by G. R. Cooper
“Second,” he raised a mate to his first finger, “even learning what you did is more than we knew at the start. We know now that we can’t just walk in and hope to find some elves and start talking. We just have to figure out how we can go about finding them.”
“I think I can help with that,” said a voice from the door.
For the second time in as many minutes, Wulfgar turned and looked to the doorway. Rather than a nearly two meter tall ranger, the door framed a much smaller personage.
Wulfgar rose and turned, smiling broadly.
“Bael!”
Wulfgar offered the faerie prince his chair, but Bael flitted, seeming to float, up to the table and sat cross legged on the corner next to the chair. Wulfgar took his seat again and looked at him. The prince was, there was no other way to say it, beautiful. His delicate features seemed enhanced by the constant serious gaze he gave everything. He had a gravitas well out of proportion to his size. Wulfgar thought of Bael’s brother, Tane, killed in their quest against the Lich. His heart swelled in affection and respect for the little people. There had been absolutely no condemnation of the humans by the faerie in losing one of their princes in defense of the big people.
“Welcome, Bael,” he began, then introduced the prince to the rest of the table. Snorri and Lauren greeted him warmly, the rest with a little awe. Wulfgar noticed that RaNay’s tiger, Schwartz, finally took an interest in something besides grooming and looked at Bael with great interest. He caught RaNay’s eyes and looked toward the big cat.
Shannon looked to the tiger then back at Wulfgar, shaking her head and smiling. Wulfgar took that to mean that Schwartz wouldn’t attack anything without her command.
“What brings your happy visit?” asked Wulfgar, turning back down to the prince.
“We got word of what was happening. I thought I’d come to see for myself.”
Thank you, Rat King of Light! thought Wulfgar, happy that the message had been delivered so quickly. He glanced toward the door, still standing open to the day outside. There was no sign of any other faerie, though Wulfgar acknowledged that was not a real indication that Bael came alone - the faerie were masters at moving silently and invisibly. He wondered idly what their Stealth skill translated to in terms of his own; no doubt, he concluded, that theirs was in many ways superior.
Not to mention their travel speed, mused Wulfgar, amazed at the rapidity at which Bael had arrived. He had only asked the rats to send word the day before; the faerie must have the ability to plane travel. He’d have to remember to ask about that, and whether Bael could assist Catcher.
“We’re ecstatic that you have chosen to do so,” smiled Wulfgar.
“Thank you. In any case, I can help with your problem. The elves will not reveal themselves to someone merely moving through their forests. At least,” he smiled, “as long as they don’t feel you a threat. If they do, they will reveal themselves to your corpse after they’ve killed you.”
“How, then,” asked Wulfgar, “do we meet with them.”
Bael thought for a moment, “You could probably walk through the forest, shouting that you want to talk. But that’s as likely to get you an arrow through the throat as not.” He smiled up at the humans, “Or you could accompany someone who they see as a cousin.”
“You?” Wulfgar smiled.
Bael nodded, “The folk have a long history with the elven kind. We are more alike than the rest of you. More alike than you are to dwarves, for example.” He scratched his head, “In any case, I would be happy to accompany you on your trip,” he looked up at Wulfgar.
“Me?” If he could send just Bael, that would help him out a great deal in working through his to-do list.
The faerie nodded, “The elven folk are as prickly as my own people. They take offense easily. Were you to send a ranger,” he looked up at Connor, “no offense, to treat with their king, they would undoubtedly take that as an insult. The only way that you can possibly hope to succeed in coming to terms with the elven folk is for your king to speak with their king.”
“As equals,” nodded Wulfgar.
Bael fell backward onto the table, convulsing in laughter. After a moment, he sat back up and wiped tears from his eyes, “The elven folk will never see anyone else as equals. No, they will merely accept that sending your king is the best that an inferior race can do.”
“Inferior?” asked Snorri.
“They see everyone else as inferior. And not just by a small margin. Even the faerie. We are all little better than the animals of the wood, and,” he tilted his head, “in some ways even inferior to them.”
Wulfgar nodded in thought. If he needed to go to the elves, then he needed to leave as soon as possible. Today. He looked around the table. Snorri was needed here, to train the NPCs for the coming fight. Lauren was needed to equip them. He paused.
“Lauren, while I’m thinking of it, can you send a dozen bows and a few hundred arrows to the keep? The building party has been warned about the coming incursion and needs to be ready to defend themselves.”
“For sure,” nodded Lauren, then looked up at Wulfgar. “Incursion?”
Shit, thought Wulfgar, cursing himself for his forgetfulness, I need to be more organized than this.
He brought everyone up to speed. About how Tim the sorcerer was the general of King Clive’s army, and that he was immune from the resurrection ban. That Tim was planning on a suicide mission; a reconnaissance of Marchstone to take place before res was turned off. He told them everything - except that Rydra was working both sides in favor of their own. That was need to know information that he didn’t think would do any good to be spread and could, indeed, cause a great deal of harm.
“Fuck,” groaned Snorri. “Tim. That asshole.”
“Yeah,” agreed Wulfgar, “so I need you to keep training the folks. Prepare for that attack in the next few days. Come up with a plan for defending the town. As I said, the dwarf crew is already aware and they’re going to run into the keep as soon as they see anything. They’ll use the bows that Lauren sends to do as much damage as they can without putting themselves in any danger.”
He looked around the table, “Has everyone bound at the local church?” He smiled at the player nods from around the table. Bael, as all NPCs did when players spoke of player specific information, seemed to be lost in thought and not following that part of the conversation.
“Lauren, you just keep making weapons and armor. Has Snorri given you his list of needs?” He smiled at her nod. “Good. I imagine that the only defensible place in town right now is the keep behind the inn.” He looked at Snorri, “That’s probably the logical place to retreat to when you get word. Catcher will try to send notice when she hears of the probe, if she can. But don’t count on it.”
Snorri nodded, “Not a problem. We should also move all of our supplies and weapons there now. Hell, anything of value needs to be put in there until the wall is built.”
Wulfgar nodded, taking another drink from the mug. He put it down, empty, and was pleased to see that another took its place. He looked up at the barmaid and smiled, “What’s your name?”
“Rosie, your highness,” she bowed and backed away, to continue running food and drink from the kitchen.
Is every barmaid in this world named Rosie? thought Wulfgar, laughing inwardly. He hoped Rosie would be OK through the coming conflict. He hated that he had brought this on people who were happily living their previous, albeit AI, lives a week ago. Can’t be helped. But at least we can do everything to prepare and protect them.
“Good,” said Wulfgar, looking back at Snorri, “I think we should probably focus on archery now. Maybe work on training defending walls after this week. I think there are already hundreds if not thousands of arrows and a bunch of bows in the keep,” he thumbed his hand over his left shoulder toward the rear of the inn. He remembered the circular barracks and weapons store room in the tower, that he’d explored before going into the catacombs and taking the march stone from th
e giant snake, giving him control of the town.
Shit, I forgot about the snake. How the hell is that going to play into what was coming? Another item added itself to Wulfgar’s growing list of concerns.
“Connor and Corwin. Can you accompany me and Bael on a trip to visit the elves?”
The ranger nodded and the dark man at the end of the table said, “Sure, but I’m not sure how much help I can be.” He scratched his chin, “Unless having a high level of luck will help make the elves like us.”
Wulfgar smiled, reaching into his inventory once again, “I’m sorry, I almost forgot you.” He pulled out the large format deck of cards and passed it down the table to Corwin. “I have no idea what help this will be, if any, but this is what Rydra and I got for you from the treasure room.”
Corwin turned over the deck and began spreading the cards on the table, “Neither do I. Never even heard of a tarot deck, at least,” he smiled, “not in this world. I’ll play around with it and see what I can see.”
“Play carefully,” added Bael, standing and walking lightly to the other end of the table. “I don’t know what these can do, but one must always take portents and signs warily.”
Corwin looked down at the faerie and nodded.
Everyone’s eyes were suddenly drawn as a figure burst through the doorway.
Wulfgar looked up in surprise as Catcher ran breathless to the table.
“Holy shit, Wulfgar, I was right. And it is incredible!”
Chairs screeched as the entire group rose as one to follow Catcher outside of the inn. Even the animals seemed curious, and Bael dropped onto Bear’s back, scratching the dog behind an ear. Schwartz took the lead, and the rest followed him through the door.
Catcher was about five meters from the door, near the fountain in the middle of the town square. She was smiling broadly, hands on hips, as she stood on the far side of her carpet. The sun glinted off of the silver threads as she knelt to wipe away some dust. She looked up at Wulfgar.
“I know you said that prepping plane travel was my top priority, but I just had to see if I was right.” She stood again and walked to the other side of the carpet, standing just in front of Wulfgar, “And I was. Oh, man, I was.”
“About what?” asked Lauren, moving toward the side.
“Well,” Catcher began, “Wulfgar picked me up a Levitation spell in town and I thought I might be able to,” she paused, turning toward the group, “well, maybe it’s easier just to show you.”
She stepped forward onto the carpet and sat, cross legged, about one-third the way back from the fountain side. She turned and motioned to Wulfgar, “Just you, sit about halfway between me and the edge.”
Wulfgar moved to the the location Catcher pointed out and sat, mimicking her position. He smiled up at the crowd, “I think I know what she’s doing.”
“We all do,” laughed Snorri. “Get on with it!”
Catcher smiled and turned her head facing forward. After a moment, the rug began to raise, moved vertically by Catcher’s Levitation spell. It began to move, slowly at first, toward the other end of the town while it gained altitude. At about five meters, it leveled off and gained speed, until it was moving at about thirty kilometers per hour. It rapidly reached and crossed the little stream then turned toward the north. Wulfgar kept very still, knowing that any shift in weight could throw off their balance and cause very bad things to happen. After several seconds of slowly rotating as they moved forward, they were now heading due north.
“I’ll assume that you are meditating and can’t speak,” he began as his realm flew by beneath him, “so let me guess what’s happening. You are levitating the carpet and, thus, the two of us. The spell is draining your mana, so you are meditating to try to counteract that. The carpet is adding to your meditation regeneration rate, which is why you’re using it, not out of some devotion to a Thousand and One Nights,” he laughed, referring to the ancient tale of Prince Husain, the eldest son of the Sultan of the Indies who traveled to Bisnagar in India to buy a magic carpet.
“If I’m correct so far, do absolutely nothing and keep perfectly still.”
Her back began to shake, then she laughed loudly, “Jerk! Now I have to wait for my Meditation cool-down!” She looked over her shoulder and smiled, “Yes. You have it right. We have a magic flying carpet.”
The carpet began to lose airspeed and altitude and came to rest just to the south of the great northern lake. They had followed the coastline for several kilometers - the lake, better viewed from the air, traced a line to the northwest from near the town toward the elven forest in the distance.
“Great idea, Catcher. I’m impressed.” Wulfgar stood and walked to the shore, then bent and cupped some water in his hand. He turned back to Catcher after drinking, “I can only imagine how helpful this is going to be for all of us.”
“Thanks,” she smiled, “but I can’t really take full credit for the idea.”
“Arabian Nights?”
She shook her head, “Nope, not really. It’s from a book series I read.”
“Which one?”
“Do you recognize my name?” Soulcatcher asked coyly. She smiled as Wulfgar shook his head, “Then you wouldn’t know the books.” She looked down at the carpet, “Anyway, I flew around a little before I came to the inn, and it felt like I could almost counteract the mana drain from Levitation through my Meditation skill and this rug,” she held up one hand, finger extended, “and this ring. I also noticed that if I got any faster than about what we were doing, the wind resistance moved me too much to keep meditating. I assume there will be similar problems going very high due to shivering from the cold or high winds aloft. But I could cover a great deal of distance pretty quickly by myself.”
“However,” she continued, “when flying with you, the mana drain was noticeably heavier. I could probably keep it up with two people for an hour or two. We’ll have to do some test flights.”
He nodded, “We can do a quick one now. I’d like to get a fast look at this valley. I need to know exactly what I’m working with here.”
“Take a seat and return your tray table to the full and upright position. My cool-down period is over and Soulcatcher Airways is ready for service.”
They crossed the lake to the north as quickly as Catcher dared. She had explained to Wulfgar that even being nudged out of her meditative state wasn’t an immediate disaster, it simply meant that her mana would drain at a higher rate. A much higher rate, but still manageable. With the two of them aboard, she thought she still had between five and ten minutes of flight time; flying by herself probably a half an hour or more. And without having to be still, she could fly much faster. Though flying faster would, of course, drain her mana more quickly. There seemed to be no best option, but at least if she lost her concentration over the lake, they could make it to the nearest shore before she had to put the rug down.
She turned the carpet to the east once they reached the northern boundary of the lake, probably twenty or thirty kilometers north of the town. The lake had a small island, probably a few acres, in the middle, but was otherwise nothing but water. The mountain chain to the north fronted the lake-shore and rose precipitously from the water’s edge all the way to the west where the mountains curved away from the lake as the shoreline ended and the elven wood began. The pass through to the forests looked a kilometer or more wide, then the mountains rose again to the south to run unbroken to the pass where Wulfgar’s wall was being built. To the east, the mountains slowly curved around toward the south, hemming in the huge lake, until they passed the village and nearly met the other chain at the narrow pass that was the only southern route into his kingdom.
So, apart from the pass he was fortifying, there was only one way into his realm - through the elven wood. As they flew to the east, however, he had to amend his view. A high waterfall slowly revealed itself on the northernmost edge of the chain. It fell from a height of probably one hundred meters into the lake below.
Wi
thout having to be asked, Catcher increased the altitude of the carpet and made their way over the falls. Wulfgar saw a river valley that had cut its way through the endless mountains to the north. On either side of the river, a small swath of grassland framed the water from the mountains above. Catcher pitched the carpet toward one of the verges and landed.
“Probably a good idea,” she said, stretching, “to go ahead and refuel. Let my mana rise up.”
“How low were you?”
“About twenty five percent or so. I likely could have made it all the way back to town, as the crow flies, but best be safe.”
Wulfgar nodded. They had been flying for around forty minutes. That gave Catcher a time of flight of around an hour with two people on the carpet. He looked to the south over the roaring mist of the falls that dropped from sight. The land on the other side of the lake was just visible as a faint, green line. The buildings of Marchstone village were much too far away to make out. The lake seemed to take up from between a half to two-thirds of his kingdom. He’d have to explore it; see what it offered.
He stretched. Once he had finished this business with Clive, he thought he should establish a fishing village on the southern side of the lake. Build some stone row houses on the shore. That would attract players to join his kingdom. Maybe build a nice big castle on the island. The more he thought of it, the more he liked it. Turn the entire island into his personal royal estate.
He shook his head. Those kind of plans were for later. What could the lake offer him now? For the fight to come. He couldn’t think of anything off-hand, though he was gratified to see that the mountains ringed his entire kingdom - at least he didn’t have to worry about an amphibious assault from the north. The valley was secure, or would be once he finished that damn wall.
He turned to the north. To the river valley that fed the lake. His lake. The river was something else he would have to explore. He decided he would send Connor through to see what was up there after the war. He turned back to Catcher, smiled, and sat on the carpet.