by Josh Powell
“WHAT’S YOUR OCCUPATION?” asked the man guarding the entrance to Arendal. He looked out at them through an opening in the wall at the entrance to the city. Through the gate the could see a spiral staircase starting at the ground and spiraling up and up towards the floating city. It disappeared into an enormous chunk of earth that the city sat upon. They’d been waiting in line for over an hour to get to this point.
“We’re adventurers,” Pellonia said.
“Adventurers, you say.” He wrote down a rather large number on a piece of parchment. “There’s a hefty tax on adventurers in the city. Where are you traveling from?”
“We come from the dragon’s cave south of the ice wall.”
“So, you’re dragon slayers then,” he exclaimed, adding a zero to the end of the number.
“No, we, uh, we didn’t kill any dragons there.”
“Have you ever killed a dragon?”
“Well, as to that…”
“Yes?”
Pellonia sighed, “Yes, we have.”
The guard put a big checkmark next to the amount on the paper.”
“And what professions do each of you have?”
“A templerager, a… hey Maximina, what’s your profession?”
“I’m a half-underelven psychic ranger. With a dash of necromantic wizardry, which is how I learned to use scrolls. And a rogue, but only for the backstabbing. Also, some samurai training, enough to use katanas, anyway.”
“That’s rather a lot of prof—” began the guard.
“Also, a smidgen of sorcery. I was once rather enamored by their ability to frequently cast the magic arrow spell.”
“I’m out of room on the form.”
“Also, sword dancer. That seemed a good idea at the time.”
The guard sighed. “Psychic, check. Ranger, check. Necromancer, check. Big tax there. Rogue, another big tax there. Samurai, check. Sorcerer, check. I’ll have to write in sword dancer under other, haven’t heard of that one,” said the guard. “Well, that’s all the boxes, no need to go on.”
“Wait,” said Ohm. “I,” Ohm drew out the syllable before continuing, “am a bard.”
The guard looked Ohm over and nodded. “I can see that. No additional taxes for a bard.”
“Because we contribute so much joy to the locals?” Ohm asked.
“Because you’re unlikely to have any money,” said the guard.
“Here’s your tax bill,” the guard said, handing the parchment to Pellonia.
“We haven’t got that much money,” Pellonia said, not bothering to take the bill before answering.
“No matter,” said the guard. “You can hand over a few of your magical items until such a time as you’re able to afford the taxes. Upon which time we shall return the items.” The guard took a pair of spectacles and put them on. “That magic axe, bracelet, and hammer ought to do it,” he said, pointing at the items the frost giants had just bestowed upon them.
Pellonia crinkled her brow and Maximina said, “That’s robbery! We earned these fair and square.”
“Everyone has to pay taxes, dear,” said the guard. “How else do you think we pay for the wonders of Arendal? It’s expensive to keep an entire city floating in the air. If you don’t want to pay, you can’t come inside. Simple as that. No harm, no foul.”
“What if we say we’re simple farmers?” Maximina asked.
“Well, then, that would be a sight cheaper, but we’d have to confiscate all of your magic items and treasures and lock you up, as you would be guilty of adventuring without a license. Which reminds me, can I please see your adventuring license so I can get the ID number and make sure the taxes are applied to the appropriate account?”
Pellonia glared at Maximina and looked back at the guard and smiled. “Funny story, we lost our adventuring license in the dragon’s cave.” Pellonia chuckled.
“No problem, what’s your ID number?”
“Four,” Maximina said. The guard wrote that down and looked back up, at which time Maximina said, “two,” and she continued to rattle off numbers every time the guard looked up. “Seven, one, five, five, six, eight, seven, nine.”
The guard took out a tome and looked up the number in the book. “Let’s see here, ah. The Lightning Brigade?” the guard asked.
“Yes, that’s us,” said Pellonia. “The Lightning Brigade.”
“Then why are all of these magic items ice weapons and not lightning weapons?”
“We, uh…” Pellonia started.
“We’re trying something new out,” said Ohm. “We’re thinking of changing our name to The Frozen Mafia. What do you think?”
The guard flipped through the book. “Sorry. The Frozen Mafia is taken.”
“Chill Squad?”
“Taken.”
“Stone Cold Killers?”
“Taken.”
“Ice Capaders?”
“There ya go, that one’s available.”
“That one’s stupid.”
“That’s why it’s available. But you can’t change your name here, you have to go the Bureau of Adventurers Guild. BAG for short. Now, if you’re going to stay in the city, please hand over your items.”
Pellonia handed Sjerkira, Narukvica, and Cekic over to the man guarding the entrance to Arendal.
“Let’s see here,” the guard said. “One mystic ice axe, one mystic ice bracelet, and one mystic ice hammer.” The guard handed them a receipt, which read, “This receipt entitles the bearers, a/an adventuring party registered as The Lightning Brigade, to receive one mystic axe, one mystic bracelet, and one mystic hammer in exchange for the sum of 193,621 pieces of gold within 30 days of the issuance of the receipt.”
“One hundred ninety three thousand pieces of gold! How are we supposed to pay that?” Maximina shouted.
“Go and see BAG,” the guard said. “You’ll have to locate a sponsor among the nobility. They can help you out and pay the bail on your items. They can also help you find quests.”
“And places that will pay for me to play?” said Ohm, hopefully.
“Meh. Mostly, bards perform for exposure in Arendal,” said the guard. “Until such a time as they can find a patron. But if you’re good, that shouldn’t take much time. A few years at most.”
“What? A few years?”
“You’ve got to pay your dues,” the guard suggested.
“That’s an atrocious point of view. What am I to do in the meantime?”
The guard shrugged. “Why do you think so many bards spend time with adventuring parties instead of taverns?”
Ohm nodded. “A fair point. Very well.”
“Also, the horse must have its feet wrapped while in the city. Can’t have it walking about damaging the roads.” The guard held up four small burlap sacks and some twine.
“I’m sorry,” said the unicorn. “You want to wrap my feet? I think not, good sir, I think not!” The unicorn stomped its hoof, chipping the rock of the road.
The guard looked at the damaged road, looked back up at the unicorn and shrugged. “Not a problem for me, but I’m afraid you can’t come into the city.”
“That suits me fine,” the unicorn said. “I never liked cities anyway. Ohm, I’ll meet you back at the cave when you’re done playing bard.”
“Next!” said the lady at the counter in the Bureau of Adventurers Guild, a bored expression on her face.
Pellonia confidently strode forward and smiled at the woman.
“How can I help you?” said the woman.
“My friends and I are a party of adventurers newly arrived in the city. They confiscated our items at the gate and and gave us an obscenely large bill. They said to come here and you could help us get them back.”
“Let me see your adventurer’s license.”
“I’m afraid we don’t have one of those.”
“I see. I’m afraid there is a fine for that.” She took out a piece of paper and began to write on it.
“But we’ve only just arrived in t
he city. We had no idea a license was needed.”
“Ignorance of the law is no excuse. You’ll have to obtain a permit,” she said, writing down a number on a piece of paper.
“Fine, fine. But we don’t even have enough money to pay for the taxes on the items, much less a license and a fine.”
“You’ll need to obtain a sponsor from the nobility. Please go look on the board on the wall.”
Pellonia, Gurken, and Maximina walked over to the wall, which had a number of parchments and scrolls tacked up advertising nobility looking for adventurers to sponsor.
“Pardon me,” said Ohm. “I do not see any parchments looking for bards. Is there another section for those? Also, do I need a license?”
“Bardic licenses are free. Here you go.”
“It doesn’t even have my name on it.”
“Not required, we don’t bother to track bards. No money in it. Would you like a beggar’s license as well while you’re here?”
“A what?”
“Bards frequently seek out a second profession so they can afford to play. Begging is quite common. Or are you with the adventurers? Adventuring is also quite common, but for the life of me, I’m not sure why adventuring parties need a bard. I only ask because a beggar’s license costs 10 pence.”
“I think I’m done talking to you now,” Ohm said, and walked over to the rest of the group in a huff.
“It’s definitely him,” Gurken said as Ohm walked up. “That’s the nobleman that gave us a ride from the village to the troll’s cave last year.”
Pellonia scrunched her eyes, looking at the drawing on the parchment. “I do believe you’re right.”
Pellonia walked over to the counter and said, “We’d like to contact this fellow, he seems like the right type to sponsor us.”
“Nevil FitzClarence? Good luck with that one. Quite wealthy but quite particular, he’s only ever sponsored one adventuring party before. They were recently lost in the dungeons, presumed dead. So maybe he’s looking for another. Worth a shot, anyway. What name are you all going by?”
“The Ice Capaders.”
“The Ice Capaders?”
“Everything else was taken.”
The woman at the counter shrugged, turned around, and shouted through the doorway behind her, “Davina! The Ice Capaders to see Nevil FitzClarence!”
The stout dwarven maiden walked into the room, looking at a sheet of paper. “The Ice Capaders? What kind of name is that?” She looked up and saw Gurken staring at her, flexing his hands in his leather gauntlets, which creaked at the pressure he was suddenly applying to them. Pellonia was crossing her arms, glaring at Davina, and Maximina was rummaging through her magic sack, looking for something.
“Gurken!” Davina said. “So happy to see you made it out alive. Thank you again for your help. We couldn’t have gotten away without you.” Davina smiled.
“Davina Bloodhammer. Nice try, wench,” Gurken growled. “You gave me a cursed sword and used me as bait to distract the dragon while you made your escape. I would have helped you anyway.”
“Yes, well— look, a dragon!” Davina pointed out the window. Gurken, Pellonia, Ohm, and Apocalypse turned to look while Davina turned and ran back through the doorway.
“Aha! Found it!” Maximina said, pulling a rope from her magic sack. She twirled it over her head, flung it towards Davina, and shouted, “Liga Illam!”
The rope stretched taut and flew towards Davina like a spear. It struck her in the middle of her back, knocking her over, and slithered around her coiling about, and holding down her legs and arms. Davina struggled to move but couldn’t.
“Yes! Oh, that was beautiful!” Maximina shouted. “Now, wench. You’re going to talk!”
“Enough with the ‘wench,’” Pellonia said.
“What are you talking about?” Gurken said. “We just got her. We’ve some torturing and interrogating to do before we’re through.”
“This is going to be fun,” Maximina said.
Davina’s eyes widened and she said “No, please. I’ll tell you anything.”
“Oh,” Gurken said. “Right then. Why did you give me the cursed sword?”
“My employer asked me to do it. He hired me to steal the Orb of Skzd from the temple of Durstin and give you the cursed sword.”
Melody and Pellonia looked at each other. “The Orb of Skzd is missing?”
“Aye, it was pretty easy to take. No one was guarding it. Seems they were out and about chasing a thief that had stolen one of the lesser artifacts.”
“Lesser!” Maximina said in a raised voice. “I’ll have you know, that in the right hands, the quiver of unending darts is a very useful artifact!”
“That was you?” Davina said. “Then Gurken and Pellonia must have been the guards.” Davina chuckled. “That’s too funny. Thanks for the distraction, made my job much simpler.”
“Where is the orb now?” Gurken asked.
“I handed it over to my employer.”
“Who’s hired you?” Pellonia asked.
Davina shrugged. “His name is Arthur, some high wizard of something.”
“Arthur Gimble?” Pellonia asked.
“One and the same.”
“What is he up to?” Pellonia asked.
“Can’t be anything good,” Gurken replied.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Pedant and the Portal
“THE WAY IS prepared, sire. All we have to do is wait for her to open the portal on the other side,” said Roofus.
Roofus, Arthur, and a mysterious cloaked figure were standing in a hollowed-out cavern in a dungeon deep in the earth below the city of Arendal. Roofus was dressed in his black burlap rags, Arthur in his blue silken wizarding robes with four orbs floating above and behind him. The cloaked figure was clothed in blood-red silk with yellow mystical symbols embroidered along the hem, face obscured by a large hood.
“Excellent,” said Arthur. “Once she is through, we close the portal and use the artifact she brings combined with the Orb of Skzd to open another portal to the Phage home world.”
“Yes, sire,” Roofus said, bouncing his head in agreement.
“You,” Arthur said, referring to the cloaked figure. “If anything comes through that portal other than Melody, I want you to kill it.”
The cloaked figure nodded.
Some time later the Orb of Skzd began to hum and vibrate. A beam shot out one side of the cube, illuminating a spot in the middle of the room with a circle of bluish light. A woman stepped through the circle and into this world. She moved with fluidity and grace, flowing as she moved, every movement deliberate.
She pivoted a few steps after coming through and turned back toward the portal. “Close it!” she shouted, but it was too late.
Vines emerged from the portal, wrapping themselves around the edges and pulling through an enormous tree beast. Its body was a massive wooden trunk, with thick branches for arms and a massive ball of roots pulling it along where its legs should be.
The woman rolled backwards in a single graceful movement, out of reach of the tree. The portal closed behind the creature as it came into the world.
“I see you brought a friend with you, Melody,” Arthur said.
“A gift from my sister, a treant,” said Melody. “Kill it!”
Arthur nodded. “With fire,” he said. “Ignis Copiosus!” Arthur incanted. A gout of flame erupted from one of the orbs, engulfing the creature. The leaves sizzled and burst into flames and the branches blackened in the heat.
The Treant stepped forward into the flame and smacked the orb from the air with one of its thick branches.
“Oh my,” Arthur said, suddenly a bit concerned.
The man in the silken robes brandished two long curved swords, running the blades along each other. Lightning sizzled along the edges of the blades, and he jumped into the air, twirling the blades in an intricate pattern, striking the branch the treant had used to knock away the orbs. The blades bit deeply into the
wood and stuck.
The lightning crackled against the thick branch, causing smoke to billow where the blades bit into the beast. The man released the blades and fell to the floor. The blades remained stuck in the treant’s arm.
He tumbled away from the treant and rolled over to the orb Arthur had lost. The man held out an arm and said “Baculo oporet me.” A staff materialized in his hands. He held the tip of the staff against the fallen orb. The orb clanked into place at the top of the staff and the man pointed it at the treant.
“Flammas,” the man in the silken robes said, and the treant was engulfed in flames emanating from the orb perched atop the staff. The man dodged the treant’s flailing branches, keeping the flames directed at the creature.
Arthur hurled streaks of lightning from another one of the orbs, and Melody leapt, tucked into a roll midair, grabbed the hilts of the swords and used the leverage of her spin to dislodge them. She landed with a tuck and roll and came up holding a sword in either hand.
The treant had had quite enough of the rough treatment and fled down a corridor, roots dragging behind.
“After it!” Arthur shouted. “Don’t let it get away!”
CHAPTER NINE
The Berserker and the Nobility
“WHO’S ARTHUR GIMBLE?” Maximina asked.
Gurken looked at Pellonia. She was silent for a time, a look of melancholy on her face. Finally, she said “He was a very good friend of ours. He was taken over by one of the Phage and now he’s trying to destroy the world. We haven’t heard from him in some time.”
Davina’s eyes grew wide. “He’s Phage? I’m sorry. I didn’t know. The Phage killed many a dwarf when they came. His assistant said something about an operative on the elven ship coming back with the ability to open a portal across long distances. They needed the Orb of Skzd for that.”
Gurken and Pellonia looked at each other again. “A Phage got on the elven ship?” Pellonia said. “That could end in disaster. The other Pellonia, Melody, Leon, they’re all in serious trouble.”
“The other Pellonia?” Maximina asked.