Winds of Fate

by Andrey Vasilyev

  “Flosy!” I barked.

  “He says he would be happy to serve under such a renowned and genius jarl,” mumbled Flosy.

  Alex finished his speech, or, rather, was unable to do so due to the fact that his beard was covering his mouth completely, and came over to give me a hug.

  I screeched wildly and made a desperate leap for the stone. That red-haired beast and his ungodly fecal reek coming toward me with arms spread wide was one of the scariest sights I’ve ever seen.

  “Gunther, do you have a portal scroll with you?” I yelled at the knight.

  He nodded, the blue portal swooshed open, and I kicked the muttering Alex into it, spitting in disgust.

  “Let’s send this one in, too.” Gunther’s iron-clad hand pointed at Flosy.

  “Ah, he can stay.” The portal closed.

  I spent the next few minutes giving Flosy an earful, and he heard me out stoically with just a groan or scratch here or there to interrupt me.

  “Where’s the könig?” Having let off steam, I got down to business.

  “In the house with his war council,” Gunther answered. “They didn’t wait for us.”

  “Why would they? We don’t really matter,” I replied in surprise. “I’m just happy they’re letting us sit in on the war council.”

  Gunther clearly disagreed with me, but he decided the point wasn’t worth arguing. “Okay, we found each other, but we can’t get through the main entrance. There is a side gate, however, that nobody knows about.”

  It was true; not far away was a small door that let us into the garden and the rix’s back door.

  “That path takes you down to the sea,” explained Flosy, pointing to a narrow trail.

  “Okay. Wait here and don’t let anyone in,” I ordered him as Gunther and I walked in.

  The war council was in the house’s largest room. It was made up of the könig; Hrolf Short-legged, apparently representing all the Sea Kings; Sven, though I wasn’t sure how he got in; der Bottom, who grimaced when he saw me; a gray-bearded old man who I assumed was the mage Valyaev had mentioned; and a few other Northerners. Probably the könig’s commanders.

  In front of them, was a skillfully drawn map, and the könig was pushing an apple around it to show the disposition of his forces.

  “And then we’ll throw in the reserves. And where will I be?” he asked one of the Northerners threateningly.

  “On the front lines?” the latter replied.

  “Never!” The könig looked at him mockingly. “You think I’m going to stick my head out there in front of an ax? No, that’s where you’ll be.”

  “So, where will you be?” asked der Bottom.

  “I’ll sail with Hrolf. My job is to lop off Fomor’s head, so you’ll deal with everyone else. You certainly have enough loafers hanging around,” the könig said before looking in my direction. “Ah, Jarl, there you are. Where the jotunns have you been?”

  “I’ve had things to do. So, you decided to sail straight to the Ice Wall?”

  “That’s the plan. My best warriors will be on two ships, and they’ll have the kings there with them as well. We’ll land near the palace and head it.”

  “An assault team,” I said thoughtfully.

  “I like that.” The könig nodded. “Exactly.”

  “I think I’ll go with you,” I continued, glancing at the könig. “Okay?”

  “Me, too,” Gunther chimed in, “der Bottom is a much better commander than I am.”

  “We just have to make sure that we get there before you land,” noted der Bottom. “Otherwise, you won’t make it halfway to the palace.”

  “Aidus, send up a fireball when you get there,” the könig said to the gray-bearded old man. Yup, that’s the mage, all right.

  “And one more thing, Aidus. Once we get inside, you’ll need to cast Impassable Threshold on the entrance,” I told him seriously.

  “Why is that?” the könig asked dubiously.

  “To make sure Fomor doesn’t escape,” I quickly lied. “He’s the kind of guy who might make a run for it.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  “If that’s everything, let’s get this show on the road.” I clapped. “Where are the drakkars?”

  “That way, down the path behind the house. It leads to a passage between the cliffs, and there’s a pier at the end of the passage. That’s where my drakkar is.” Hrolf pointed, still looking at the map.

  We left the house to see a shocked Flosy looking upward and waving his arms.

  “This isn’t good,” I said to Gunther. “I think it’s starting.”

  “What?” Gunther wasn’t familiar with the hallucinations people sometimes get when they drink too much.

  “That. Flosy, what are you looking at?”

  “I was just sitting here thinking about life, and suddenly something flew out of that pipe and took off in that direction.” Flosy acted out what he’d seen.

  “With horns?” I asked.

  “No, it was fat and had wings. It was even wearing colorful pants.”

  That’s not good. It’s definitely time to start worrying about your health when you see things like that.

  “Were the wings small and transparent?” Gunther asked. “And did it have a nasty-looking face?”

  “Yes,” Flosy replied with a nod.

  “He’s fine,” Gunther said to me. “But what was a pixie doing here?”

  From the fifth edition of the Fayroll Times:

  From the editor.

  …our publication has already become a trusted guide to all the adventures you can have in the beautiful, mysterious land of Fayroll.

  Advanced Magic.

  The Funibund clan recently found a rare scroll in a dungeon that suddenly opened in the Eastern lands. The scroll features Reflection of Glory, a spell that summons up to 15 NPC warriors around Levels 80-85. The clan plans to hold an auction open to anyone who would like to purchase the scroll. A starting price has not been named.

  Excerpts from the Fayroll Chronicle.

  The Eyes of the Beast clan set out for Ouk Cave in one more attempt to kill Klatornakh, the same epic monster they’ve taken on a number of times now. The entire clan entered the cave, but, yet again, none of them made it out alive. Stubbornness or stupidity?

  Daughters of Twilight, a clan only for women, declared war on the Daggers of Light. Nobody knows the reasons behind the conflict.

  The White Hats will be throwing their yearly pie-eating contest in Minkos, a city in the West. As always, they will offer prizes to see who can eat pies the fastest, who can eat the most pies, and so on. Gourmets, this one’s for you. This paper has even prepared a prize for the best cook: a white chef’s hat with rare attributes created by Raidion just for this competition.

  The game admin announced that Holmstag, the capital of the North, will see an Ice Age Park opened the night of October 31 near the south gate. The developers claim the exact digital copies of prehistoric plants and animals to be featured in Fayroll will be nothing but friendly. You can visit the park to ride sleighs drawn by three enormous northern reindeer, compete to see if you can toss rings on the horn of a giant furry rhinoceros, have your picture taken with a cave lion near the entrance to where he lives, get a friendly cartoon drawn by a mammoth especially for you, and much more. Discounts are being offered for parties of ten players or more, as well as clan trips.

  A report from the Rattermark shipyards.

  Who will rule the seas?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  In which battle is joined.

  “What’s a pixie?” Flosy asked a question I thought a bit strange.

  “Well, pixies,” I said, taken aback, “are little bastards with wings. You’ve never seen one?”

  “Of course he hasn’t.” Gunther laughed. “You can’t find them up here in the North. Pixies say they can’t live where it’s this cold, but I suspect there’s a different reason; the city guard and judges don’t rule on who’s right and wrong up here. Inst
ead, they bash your head in first and ask questions later. The pixies may just not be fans of that system, which is why I was surprised to hear of one in this area.”

  “Oh, that’s good,” Flosy exhaled. “I thought I was going crazy.”

  “You still may be,” I replied sternly. “You’d have to be off your rocker to bring along someone like that bearded devil.”

  “Leave him alone,” Gunther said amiably. “He gets the picture. Let’s head down the pier. The könig will be coming along soon. Wait, do you hear that?”

  There was a noise of trampling, running feet, as the city apparently broke into motion. We walked out into the house’s courtyard to see the NPCs forming up into columns, with the colorful assortment of players chaotically falling over themselves to sprint off in the direction of the Ice Wall. Crowned with a light haze, it was visible off in the distance even from where we were. I wonder what it looks like up close. It was a good four hours away by foot, so by midnight, I figured the battle would start. Soon, I’d know if I got lucky or… Or I don’t know what, since I won’t be able to get the könig to do all this again, that’s for sure.

  “Let’s go,” Gunther said to me. “We don’t want the drakkar to leave without us.”

  “It won’t, not before the könig gives his speech in the courtyard,” I countered. “Although, we can make sure we get the best spot on board.”

  “We won’t be able to keep it,” Flosy said, jumping in. “The könig will show up and just kick us out if he likes our spot.”

  None of us had any more contradictions for another, and so we ambled down the path leading to the pier.

  The path took us between some small cliffs that let out to reveal a small bay, a tidy pier, and a drakkar with its bored crew tied up to the latter.

  “Hagen!” I heard a familiar voice call. “Hi, I need to talk to you!”

  I sighed deeply, remembering the beautiful days when nobody knew me, nobody had anything to talk to me about, and the only person who recognized me was Euiikh, someone I’d realized by that point was more or less harmless. I could deal with him once a week. But now, if it’s not one person, it’s another…Wanderer.

  “Hey.” I nodded.

  Wanderer was lounging on a rock, dressed as always in a hooded cloak pulled down over his forehead. Next to him, sat two NPCs with serious expressions on their faces. One’s name was Gorrdy, the other’s Grim Gram, and they were both fairly high-level warriors. They also had unusual weapons. Gorrdy had an ornately carved crossbow slung over his shoulder; Grim Gram held a metal-tipped battle fork with runes flickering lightly on the handle.

  “Can we talk?” Wanderer’s hood lifted slightly.

  “Why not? Here, or should we step aside?”

  “Yes, let’s go over there.” Wanderer got up, and we walked away from our respective companions, leaving them to look each other over. Gunther, in particular, was intrigued by Grim Gram’s battle fork. The knight completely and openly ignored Wanderer save for one quick glance at the cloaked figure. I couldn’t help but notice that he’d also jumped when he heard Wanderer’s voice.

  “You’re on your way to the Ice Wall, to see Fomor, right?” Wanderer got right to the point.

  “You know, I’m getting the feeling that you’re Big Brother in the flesh,” I replied with a note of annoyance.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you’re always keeping track of me. Wherever I’m going, you always seem to know ahead of time!”

  Wanderer laughed. “Oh, come on, it’s just a coincidence. A coincidence, I said,” he added with more force when he saw the skeptical look on my face.

  “Coincidences happen once, maybe twice. But how did you know about Fomor, and that I’d be taking a ship? Why are you waiting for me here? Everyone’s walking there, so why didn’t you think I was going with them?”

  “Why would you be going with them when you’re standing right here?” Wanderer was obviously having fun toying with me.

  “Okay, whatever, I have a long day ahead of me. Either you tell me what’s going on, or we’ll just go our separate ways. I’ll take the ship, and you’ll…go wherever you’re going.”

  “No,” Wanderer replied, his voice turning serious. “I need to get on the ship with you.”

  “There aren’t any tickets; it’s not like a bus.”

  “I know,” Wanderer said peacefully. “But you can bring an old friend on board with you.”

  I shook my head. “What old friend? I helped you once; you helped me once. We’re even, no?”

  Wanderer went quiet for a second before responding. “Okay, we got off on the wrong foot. And we’re continuing on the wrong foot, too. There’s nothing between us here.”

  “That’s debatable,” I said stubbornly. “Just be honest with me. Why do you need to get to the Ice Wall? What’s over there for you?”

  “I need Gedran, and, from what I’ve heard, she’s with Fomor,” Wanderer said smoothly. “I don’t care about Fomor; I just need her.”

  That surprised me. To be honest, I was less worried about the ice lord than I was about my upcoming date with that dastardly old hag.

  “Christ’s blood, what do you want with her? Believe me, she’s a nasty beast.”

  Wanderer grinned under his hood. “If you knew her a third as well as I do, you’d have picked a different word there. And about why, well, I want to kill her. To be more precise, I can’t kill her for good, which is a shame, but I need to buy myself the time killing her will give me.”

  I thought to myself. On the one hand, I didn’t trust him; on the other, I could use the help of a good player, and he was at least much better than I was. Plus, I’d get those two with him in the bargain…

  “Who are they?” I nodded toward his companions, who were chatting about something with Gunther.

  “Hired swords. There are NPCs out there you can hire long-term.” Wanderer patted his pocket, and I heard something clink. “It’s expensive, but it works. They don’t talk, they don’t stick their nose in where it doesn’t belong, and we’ve been around the block together a few times, so you can trust them.”

  Sure, you trust them, I trust you, we’re all a happy family.

  “Okay, let’s say I have them take you on board. What’s in it for me?”

  “You need more? We’re going to keep the witch away from the rest of you—or did you think she’d just stand there watching while you take out Fomor? Maybe clap for you when you’re done?”

  “We’ll have a few more than the three of us there, to be fair.”

  “I’m aware, but how many of you will make it to the throne room? The ice guard, you may know, is a powerful force.”

  “Have you even seen them?” I asked, letting frustration creep into my voice.

  “I have.” The way he answered left no doubt in my mind.

  “Okay,” I said, making up my mind. “Let’s do it. But I have two conditions.”

  Wanderer’s hood cocked to the left, apparently letting me know that he was all ears.

  “First, Fomor is mine. Well, more, he’s theirs,” I corrected myself, pointing to the NPCs. “And tell your guys not to lay a finger on him without me asking them to.”

  Wanderer nodded.

  “Second, how did you find out that I would be here? I’m not going to let that go.”

  “What are you badgering him for?” a squeaky voice overhead asked. It was followed by a shout from Flosy.

  “It’s him! There he is! Praise Hravan, I’m not going nuts. I can keep drinking!”

  “A pixie!” I snarled. “Here boy, come on over here, you dirty little trickster.”

  “Hey, what’s that about?” The fat pixie with his mocking face and colorful pants didn’t like the way I was looking at him. “I didn’t do anything to you!”

  “You didn’t have to. All it took was one of you for me to hate your kind.”

  “Who was that?” he asked, flying a bit higher just in case. “I’m just interested.”

/>   “His name was Locket. Heard of him?”

  “No,” the pixie replied. “But he must have been good if you’re that mad at him.”

  “I certainly am. He almost had me thrown in jail.”

  Wanderer laughed. “They can do that, the little buggers. But this one’s more or less okay—I know him. His name is Tristan.”

  “And hey, beanpole, if you ask me where my Isolde[9] is, I’ll spit on you,” the pixie warned me.

  “You’re a strange guy,” I said to Wanderer. “And you keep strange company.”

  “No stranger than yours,” he retorted. “You tell me; my pixie and two mercenaries against your temple knight with his head knocked a kilter and the one who smells. What even is that stink?”

  “It’s a social protest,” I responded, not wishing to get into the details.

  I couldn’t help but wonder how he knew about the knight.

  A group of warriors walked past on their way to the ship, and the könig was right behind them. It looked like it was time to go.

  “König,” I called. “I have three warriors who want to join us. They’re good people, I know them. Mind if they come?”

  The könig stopped. He looked over the three, stopped when he got to Grim Gram’s fork, nodded, and kept walking.

  “Okay, let’s load up. Except for that one,” I said, jabbing a finger at the pixie. “We’re not taking him. I don’t trust him.”

  “I won’t be flying along with you either,” he replied, thumbing his nose at me. “I’d like to live a little longer.”

  The drakkar, loaded to the straps with people, sat lower in the water and moved slower than the last time. Some of the könig’s people who were supposed to come with us to Fomor’s palace didn’t fit, and the rest of the assault group piled into a second drakkar.

  “And you said it’s not like a bus,” grunted Wanderer. “Doesn’t look much different to me.”

  We made ourselves comfortable in the stern, not far from the steering oar. Gunther took a spot a little farther away and looked to fall asleep.

  “Hrolf!” I called over to the jarl as he walked past. “Where are the rest of the ships?”