Beastborne- Mark of the Founder

by James T Callum

  “Well,” he said, turning to look over his shoulder at her as he rearranged his stock. “What’s this personal business then? I would appreciate getting some sleep tonight, dear.”

  Now that she was here, she didn’t know how to proceed. Mira rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. Charisma - here or back home - was never one of her strong suits. She had a forceful personality and she knew it.

  She loved it, in fact.

  Had plenty of friends who loved her as well but here things were… different. She couldn’t curse for one. She wondered how long it would take Hal to notice that he wasn’t able to swear.

  Swearing was at least half of her vocabulary and it had taken a very long time to stop. People looked at you weird when all you ever said were things like, “holy flork,” and “eat my grass.”

  With a shake of her head, realizing she was rambling in her own head to distract from what she wanted to do, Mira hopped onto the counter. A few shirts padded her bottom, shirts Rondo would undoubtedly have to refold to put on display.

  “Out with it girl, I’m not a young gnome anymore,” he said, watching her out of the corner of his eye as he went about his shop.

  Of all the people she had ever met, she trusted Rondo the most. Not enough with her secret, never that. The Worldshard was always watching and listening. Thoughts, thankfully, were safe but she didn’t want to cut her vacation short.

  “How would you like to set up the premier marketplace in a brand new Sanctum? One that’s about to be filled with adventurers of all colors and creeds? We’re not talking penny-ante stuff.” She motioned to the shop.

  Rondo, predictably, began to splutter and get very, very red. It was always adorable to watch. It didn’t start at his cheeks, nor his ears, nor his nose as it did with some people. When Rondo got really mad, it was the bald pate on top of his head that gleamed like a hot stovetop.

  “Girl, you got a pair on you that makes me doubt your fair features sometimes!” he blustered. “What do you mean, coming into my shop and disparaging my good name?”

  Noth was wandering the place, looking at this or that with her arms crossed behind her back. The picture of a perfect window shopper.

  “I don’t mean anything by it, you know my tongue wags about sometimes,” Mira said making a poo-pooing gesture by flapping her free hand Rondo’s way. “But you know you could do better. You’ve got a keen eye and a long storied history of adventuring. Who better to make an emporium?”

  He snorted, blowing out his white mustache. “Been hitting the drink a little early today?” he asked. Mira, being the proper lady made a rude gesture and stuck out her tongue at him. At least those hadn’t been replaced. “Very mature. Even if there was a new Sanctum - and there isn’t, I would have heard - I couldn’t just up and leave.”

  “Why not?” Noth asked, studying a small ruby with a black mote at its center. She turned to Rondo. “From browsing your wares I can see you have an eye for merchandise, even if much of it is in ill-repair. What could you do if you were able to direct more than just the leavings of others?”

  The gnome’s bushy eyebrows climbed high on his wrinkled forehead. That was one of the first times Mira ever saw Rondo without a quip at the ready. He was speechless.

  For good reason. Noth didn’t speak all the time, not at all like Mira. They couldn’t have been more opposite. But the way she urged him on while subtly criticizing his wares and in the same breath complimenting him was… well, it was hard enough for Mira to know how she should react! Let alone the thoughts swirling around in poor Rondo’s head.

  “You listen here,” he said, wagging a finger Noth’s way. “I’ve worked hard to get where I am. Maybe my shop doesn’t contain the best brands or the newest styles but it serves a function. One I am proud to serve. And no fool’s dream of another Sanctum - what ridiculous nonsense! - is going to change my mind.”

  Mira hopped off the counter and stood before Rondo. She crouched - though she knew he hated it - so she could look him in the eye. It wasn’t her fault she was so tall. She didn’t ask to be an elf. It just… sorta happened.

  Worldshards could be weird. Things got lost in translation from one to the other.

  “Listen, Rondo,” she said as calmly as she could manage. “I happen to know that there is a new Founder in town. And by the way your eyes just widened a little, I’ll say you’ve heard the whisperings. The Watch is looking for somebody. Somebody, I dare say you already can guess at.

  “Well, I’m here to tell you that the whispering is true. This new Founder is looking to set up shop far away from here. No, I won’t tell you where. I’m not that stupid. I know your shop is warded from prying eyes and ears but still.” She shrugged. “Can never be too careful.”

  Rondo went very still. He watched her with his characteristic intensity. Faster than even Mira could move - which was considerable - Rondo snapped his hand out and grabbed her by the ear like a wayward child.

  “You listen here, girl,” he growled. “If anybody else ever heard you say that, you would be clapped in an iron collar and sent to the Rift. Do you want that? No? Good. Then listen for once to an old gnome and shut your mouth.

  “You’ve always had a knack for stepping on toes, but these people are beyond your league. Do not get involved in any pursuits of glory. Even if you were telling the truth, and there is a new Founder… there’s no way to say he wouldn’t turn out to be just like them. And even if not, he’s going to be dead in a week.”

  When Rondo let go, Mira rose to full height and rubbed her sore ear. Elf ears were a lot more sensitive to touch than she thought. It still smarted even though Rondo wasn’t trying to hurt her.

  “I understand,” she snapped. “I’ve seen this one first-hand. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen him do! He’s already escaped Rinbast - yeah I said it, Rinbast, he doesn’t deserve the honorific - twice now. And no worse for wear.

  “Come on Rondo! Look at this place. You’re forced to sell at barely above what you make and largely because you refuse to fleece new adventurer’s but where does that leave you? How much do you pay in rent for this place?”

  His grumbling reply was answer enough.

  “Imagine being the Quartermaster to a new Founder. Heck, imagine being the premier merchant for a brand-new Sanctum. Somewhere safe that Rinbast couldn’t strike at without great cost. I’m giving you the hard sell because I know you want to come. I know you hate what Murkmire has become.

  “How many times have you told me how you miss what this place used to be? You came here because you heard the stories of its fairness and open-mindedness. Tell me, Rondo, how has that turned out for you so far? How many permits have you submitted for a shop in a better area?”

  That made the gnome grumble and grow even redder.

  “He wants to come,” Noth said. “But he will not see reason.”

  Mira nodded, folding her arms over her breasts. “You’ve worked hard to get where you are and even though I’m not a merchant, I can see that it’s not remotely where you should be. I’m giving you the option for a fresh start in a place that will value your talents. Don’t be a smidgeon mucker.”

  Mira paused at that. That was a neat little twist on her words, at least it rhymed. Clearly not remotely what she was trying to say but… what could you do?

  “I am not being a-a smidgeon mucker!” Rondo said, flailing his arms about animatedly.

  “I doubt you understand the term ‘sunk cost fallacy’ here but it really applies. Who cares how long you’ve worked here! Abandon it and come with me! Stop being so small-minded!”

  That was apparently the wrong thing to say.

  Any progress her wheedling might have earned was gone in an eyeblink. Furious, Rondo took out a rolled-up bill of sale he had in one hand and began batting at Mira’s legs. “Get out! Go! You’re lucky I don’t report you to the Watch you insolent little-”

  Mira, fast on her feet, was already quick for the door realizing she once again stuck her foo
t in her mouth. When Rondo suddenly stopped, she turned around more curious than concerned.

  There was Rondo, slumped on the ground at Noth’s feet. Her scythe poised above his head, the wicked black blade pointed - thankfully - away from the small, unconscious gnome.

  At her look of surprise, Noth shrugged her shoulders. “What?” She motioned to the man. “He wanted to come, he was being foolish. We will take him and he will thank you for the opportunity.”

  Mira put a hand to her forehead and sighed. “I’ll get the rope.”

  102

  After the trials of the past few days, the rise and fall of the hilly countryside surrounding Murkmire was a leisurely stroll to Hal. Together with Durvin at his side, the pair crossed the miles of undulating grassy land and found themselves in the dark of the forests south of the Sanctuary.

  The Dolcrest Woods

  Your Exploration has risen to Level 3.

  +10% Faster drawing speed (+30%).

  +3% Discoverable range (+9%).

  Once alone, the two leaders lapsed into a companionable silence. Each of them lost within themselves. Hal found the typically surly dwarf amazingly good company. It was nice to have some time with his own thoughts. To try and make sense of everything that happened.

  After that last use of Shifting Mask, Hal didn’t have enough MP to refresh it. Luckily the pair were well away from Murkmire by then and pushing deeper into the forest.

  Any prying eyes would more than likely be the Rangers. A thought that comforted Hal as the spell finally faded, returning him to his tattered and worn façade.

  Stepping over a rotten log, the path he had taken days before came back to him unbidden. Back then - nearly a week ago - he never would have considered himself a leader. Now the title rested upon his shoulders with a sense of familiarity. It still didn’t feel comfortable but he wasn’t sure it ever would.

  Maybe that was what being a leader meant. An ever-present sense of discomfort.

  As they climbed higher into the dolcrest woods at the foothills of the southern mountains, Hal felt the bite of the chill deep beneath the sheltering canopy of the forest. The night was coming on in full and the temperature kept dropping, the pair tapped their Guild badges to ward off the dark but the badges did little against the cold.

  “Ye look like ye could use a hit from me flask, boy.” The dwarf pulled out a battered silver hip flask that looked like it had once been used to stop an axe blow. He handed it over.

  “Thanks.” Hal unscrewed the cap and held his breath as he took a swig.

  Just as he thought, it burned the taste right out of his mouth. It was like swallowing fire, except it somehow managed to get worse even after he passed it back to Durvin.

  When Hal coughed, he expected flames to shoot out of his mouth.

  You drink [Durvin’s Brew].

  +25 Insulation.

  +20 Ice Resist.

  -10% Max HP.

  Duration: 2hrs.

  “That’s the good stuff,” Durvin said with a smile. He took a swig himself and put the flask away. “Ye tolerate the stuff better than most o’ yer weak kin.”

  Unable to find his voice amid the burning sensation that threatened to consume him, Hal merely nodded.

  The drink worked though.

  Hal was so busy worrying that he was about to combust into flames that all thought of the cold was pushed from his mind.

  A bird whistle caught Hal’s attention and he put out an arm. “They’ve found us,” Hal said. But even as he did, he drew out [Goblinbane].

  Durvin looked at him with one raised brow. But the canny dwarf understood Hal’s caution and held his hands out in front of him. A gleaming silvery axe appeared in his muscular hands. The pair slowly turned until they were back-to-back.

  “Strange friends ye got,” Durvin remarked.

  Hal shrugged, Splicing aberration and eldritch. A ruby heat haze surrounded him. “I’m not about to let my guard down this close to the finish line.”

  “Aye, that’s fair enough.”

  Another bird call answered the first. In the distance, Hal heard more calls in response and he lowered the blade’s tip to the ground just a little.

  Hal expected to be surrounded but only a lone figure came down from the trees to greet them. Hal recognized the lean man with ruby-red eyes glinting in the light of their Guild badges.

  “I was told you’d be harder to find,” Angram said jovially. He held out his arms, wrapped in form-fitting hunting leathers. “But here you were walking like two beacons, and that’s to say nothing of the racket you were making!”

  Angram chuckled and when Hal came forward to greet him, he wrapped Hal in a tight hug. Angram dropped his voice to whisper into Hal’s ear, “You are being followed. Don’t look behind, we’re going to lead them into an ambush.” Angram pulled Hal back and held him out at arm’s length, examining him. “You look like you’ve a tale to tell. Are you well?”

  Hal was surprised at the sincerity in the elf’s voice. Not to mention the fact that they were being followed. There wasn’t much room to hide in the sloping countryside. He had to wonder when they started following him.

  “It’s… been a long couple of days,” Hal said truthfully. He sheathed his sword and motioned to Durvin Bouldergut. “This is Durvin, leader of the Bouldergut Clan.”

  The lean elf put up a gloved hand to stop him. “Elora’s back at camp. She’s already told us what’s going on.” He turned to Durvin and extended a hand. “Glad to have the sturdy support of such a reputable clan from Anvil. My name’s Angram Masaeil.”

  “Masaeil?” Durvin asked, eyes bright with recognition.

  Angram waved it away. “Black sheep of the family, I’m afraid,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. He turned on his heels and began to march off.

  The pair followed and now that Hal knew somebody was following him, he could see the signs of it. Even with his relatively decent Perception at 15, it was hard for him to catch them. Whoever was leading them was accomplished in both Stealth and Survival to be able to hide so easily within the woods.

  As they walked Angram kept up a steady stream of chatter. “We had to move camp once we realized you were still gone after a day. Just in case a Manastorm swept this way – not that we’ve heard of any recently.

  “Still, precautions never hurt anybody and we took refuge in some of the larger hillside caves. I dare say your strange-talking friends have worked themselves up into quite a fuss over your absence. Altres has been working double-time to keep them distracted and entertained.”

  “Yeah?” Hal asked.

  Durvin shook his head. “Still can’t believe ye took in a goblin clan.”

  “Koblins,” Angram and Hal corrected him at once. They shared a brief laugh until the Ranger put up a hand to stop them.

  “This is good enough,” Angram said.

  “What’re ye fer?” Durvin asked suspiciously.

  Angram lifted his voice up to echo into the darkness beyond their Guild badges. The trees here were thick and wide, but the underbrush was rather minimal making any hiding spots rather obvious. “We know you’re following our friends. Might as well come out and be done with it. We’ll bring you no closer to our camp. Either turn back now or make yourself known.”

  A tense silence filled the dark forest.

  Durvin summoned his wicked silvery axe again and slapped the flat of the bladed head into his palm with a loud smack. “Shoulda told me we were bein’ followed,” he grumbled.

  Hal loosed the [Goblinbane] from its sheath and lowered his voice in reply, “Then we wouldn’t have had such a nice spot for an ambush. And you would have insisted on running off after them, or am I wrong?”

  “Alright, boy, I get yer meanin’. Don’t like bein’ kept in the dark is all.”

  “Noted,” Hal said.

  As they spoke a lean figure stepped out from behind a tree on their left, a curved sword pointed at the back of her neck. A Ranger winked back at the group behind the hosta
ge, though Hal couldn’t bring the man’s name to mind.

  One by one the Rangers flushed out their stalkers with sword, dagger, or bow. There was no battle and it was over in just a few seconds. Seven people in all, corralled into a tight knot facing Hal, Durvin, and Angram.

  Hal stepped forward, keeping his [Goblinbane] at the ready but lowered and off to the side so he didn’t seem quite so threatening. Hal caught Angram’s surprised look out of the corner of his eye.

  What anger Hal had vanished when he saw the sunken eyes and dirty faces looking back at him. They held no weapons that Hal could tell and their clothes were barely better than his.

  One person in particular, a young woman with virulent red hair at the center of the group, drew Hal’s attention. She kept her head down and did her best to keep her eyes averted. Despite that, Hal could feel something from her. A strange energy in the air that centered on her.

  Two older men with grimacing faces stepped to the side as Hal drew near. His feet moved on their own accord until he realized he was in the middle of this ragtag group of people. They were from all walks of life. Young and old, strong and weak, but all of them had a look of desperation.

  Hal was more intrigued than upset and maybe he should have been warier but he couldn’t muster the energy. There was no way such a group of rabble should have been able to sneak up on him. Even though his Perception wasn’t the best in the world he was willing to bet Durvin’s wasn’t.

  “Why were you following me?” he asked the girl with the long dirty red hair. The answers would come from her, he knew.

  She didn’t shy away from the question. Barely five-foot-five, the slight creature wore a tattered cloak so dirtied with age and use that there was no way of telling what its true color was.

  Pulling the hood back, she lifted her gaze to Hal’s. The most crystalline blue eyes Hal had ever seen looked back at him, but that wasn’t what stole his breath away. It was the strange trio of matching diamond-shaped crystals embedded in her forehead, the exact same color as her eyes. The one in the center was larger than those to either side.