Heir Today, Pawn Tomorrow

The Good Guys Book 2

Eric Ugland

Air Quotes Publishing

Air Quotes Publishing

Copyright © 2018 Eric Ugland

Cover art by Katrina Chase

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of Fiction. All of the characters in this novel are fictional and any resemblance to people living, dead, or undead is purely coincidental and surprising. And, let’s not even begin to talk about the fact that it’s all in a fantastical world in some other universe. There may be mentions of real places in this book, and while these passing mentions of real locations might have passing resemblance to said real locations, that's really just incidental, and these locations are all used fictitiously. The science in this book is only accidentally accurate, and no medical or scientific value should be attached to any of the ideas espoused within.

Except that Kent is a jerk.

To Garrett.

Thanks, man. You are an inspiration.

Chapter One

“I think I’m missing something,” I said.

“Always are,” Nikolai snapped.

“Well,” Cleeve said, pulling out a piece of paper and smoothing it out on the tiny table. He pushed the two remaining beer mugs out of the way. “I’m preparing to adopt you as my heir, Montana of No House at All. That is, if you’d like to be a Duke in the near future.”

“Uh,” I said, looking at the caravan leader, “I would not. Can’t say that’s anywhere on my list of future plans.”

He blinked at me, then looked over at Nikolai and grinned. “I love this man!”

Nikolai grumbled something I couldn’t hear, but returned the smile to his boss. “Sure.”

“This attitude is why I need you,” Cleeve said. “Others might see the opportunity as a means to get ahead, to push their own agenda. But you, you will only see it as a burden.”

“Not selling it,” I said. “Kinda making me want it even less than I just did.”

“It is not something I would wish upon anyone I truly loved—”

“Great.”

“But there is a vast importance to it.”

“Then,” I replied, “and I mean no offense here, someone else should really do it.”

“Ah, but you are the one.”

“I’m really not.”

“Let me explain everything to you.”

“Is that wise?” Nikolai interrupted.

“He will need to know at some point,” Cleeve said.

“Do you think a back room in this shithole tavern in the middle of a backwater town is the place to reveal your secret?”

“Yes,” Cleeve replied with a slight smile. “The man who runs this tavern is an old friend, and this room is built for purposes such as this.”

“So,” I interrupted, “this is starting to feel a lot like you want me in like, a position of power and leadership. And those aren’t even among my weaker skills. They’re in the giant list of skills I haven’t even looked at yet.”

“They are skills you will develop. The best leaders are those who do not desire power, but instead, understand the sacrifices we must make when power is thrust upon us.”

This was going to be a giant mess. But it certainly appeared as if I had no say in the matter. I grabbed one of the mugs on the tiny table and took a great big pull. It was warm, and that made me sad.

“What I am about to tell you,” Cleeve said, apparently deciding I’d accepted his offer, “is only known by four individuals in the Empire. You will become the fifth.”

“Guys,” I said, “I—”

“Shut your mouth and listen, whelp,” Nikolai barked, his face impassive.

Cleeve just grinned.

“There are a few things the whelp should answer before you speak,” Nikolai said.

“Nikolai, we don’t have time for this,” Cleeve said. “We are running short as is.”

“He is not human.”

“I’m not what now?” I asked.

Cleeve frowned.

“He is Fallen.”

“What is that?”Cleeve asked.

“I have yet to encounter any such as him.”

A moment passed, and Nikolai looked at Cleeve. Cleeve looked at me. I looked at Cleeve.

Finally I pulled my character sheet, which is where I saw how many points I still needed to distribute.

* * *

Montana - Lvl 10 Nothing

Traits

Race: Fallen

Height: 6’3”

Weight: 280 lbs

Eye Color: Hazel

Hair Color: Blonde

Renown: 0 - No one even knows you exist.

* * *

Statistics

HP: 236

STAM: n/a

MP: 182

Armor: +23 (Chain Mail)

Active Effects: None

* * *

Attributes

Strength: 55

Agility: 17

Dexterity: 19

Constitution: 52

Wisdom: 13

Intelligence: 13

Charisma: 19

Luck: 27

* * *

Unassigned points: 36

* * *

Skills

Riding - improvised (Lvl 1): You can now ride improvised devices. +5% to handling.

Falling (Lvl 1): You can flail through the air with the best of them. Watch for the sudden stop at the end.

Animal Handling (Lvl 5): You can calm down a domesticated animal, keep a mount from getting spooked, intuit an animal’s intentions, or, if you’re really lucky, tame a wild beast.

Harvesting (Lvl 5): You can pick plants, you can grab fruit, you can cut neat things out of creatures you slaughter. That’ll save the world, right? At Level 5, you are able to harvest common elements with no penalties. +10% successful gathering chance.

Swords (Lvl 5): You can swing sharp objects and likely not hurt yourself. +7% damage. +7% skill.

Spears (Lvl 4): Remember, the pointy end goes towards the enemy. +8% damage. +8% skill.

Unarmed Combat (Lvl 9): You can strike with the fist or the foot, and must register your hands as lethal weapons. -13% stamina drain. +13% damage.

Axes (Lvl 9): You can chop down limbs of trees or men. Or monsters. +12% damage, +12% skill.

Large Weapon Throwing (Lvl 10): Take that massive weapon and throw it away! +13% accuracy, +13% damage.

Warhammers (Lvl 5): Everything IS a nail. +9% damage, -9% stamina drain.

Light Armor (Lvl 3): A little bit of leather goes a long way. +7% dmg reduction, -7% movement penalty.

Heavy Armor (Lvl 1): Metal protects better, but gets in the way a bit. +5% dmg reduction, -5% movement penalty.

Stealth (Lvl 1): Be sneaky! Move around in silence! Tip-toe up to giants and dragons. You’re totally going to start stealing stuff now, aren’t you? +10% harder to detect.

Improvised Weaponry (Lvl 1): You can make a weapon out of anything. Say, a dwarf stabbed to a chair. +5% dmg when using made up things as weapons.

Swimming (Lvl 9): You can move through water without drowning. +9% movement speed in water.

* * *

Abilities

The Sword of My Enemy is My Sword: You’ve found that, in a pinch, every weapon will do. +1% dmg for each new weapon used in a combat.

Iron Will: Stamina no longer applies to you. What a beast you are.

Make An Entrance: You really know how to enter a room! Once per day, you may use your ability to make a grand entrance such that those on the other side of the portal are stunned!

* * *

Feats

None

* * *

Boons

Powerful Build (Mister Paul) - You are bigger than you look. For all strength roles, you are counted as one size category larger than you actually are.

Regeneration (Mister Paul) - Outside of combat, your body will repair rather quickly. Given enough time, it’s possible you will heal from nearly any wound.

Gift of Gab (Mister Paul) - Should you encounter a language you do not understand, as long as you hear at least three words of it, you will understand it, and speak it, perfectly.

* * *

Indicium

None

* * *

Relationships

Rumib Pass (destroyed) - Liked

* * *

Languages

Goblin

Imperial Common

Mahrduhmese

* * *

Spells

Lifeform Identification (Lvl 1) (costs 1 mana): Identify uncommon or lower lifeforms.

Basic Object Identification (Lvl 1) (costs 1 mana): Identify any non-magical common or lower item.

Heal Other (Lvl 1) (costs 100 mana): Through the use of magic you are able to heal another through touch. Heal 50 Hp.

Humus (Lvl 1) (costs 10 mana): This spell gathers dirt and organic materials, moisture, and bacterial ingredients within one mile/level of the caster and places the mixture anywhere the caster wishes within range. This is humus, the black, enriched soil excellent for growing plants in pots or gardening. Of course, the mage may use it however he wishes, but it is usually for growing things in pots and window boxes. If no such materials are within one mile/level, the spell has no effect.

* * *

Yep. There it was, right under my stupid name. Fallen. How long had it been there? Was it something Mister Paul did? It did explain why so many people had asked me about it.

“Wait, you guys don’t know what that is?”

“I have yet to encounter one,” Cleeve said.

“Well, shit.”

Silence invaded the room.

“Yeah, so that’s me. Fallen.”

“A side effect of coming here?”

“I guess, yeah. I mean, I had a choice of races, and, I guess—”

“You chose Fallen?”

“It was chosen for me, more or less.”

“Such a strange thing.”

“Yeah,” I said, having serious reservations about saying anything about the real process. Were there rules about that?

“And you want me to mentor this idiot?” Nikolai piped up.

“I do,” Cleeve said. “And to do it well. Much depends on you—”

“Because you saddle me with a fool.”

“Love the attitude there, Nik,” I said.

He glared daggers at me.

“Since you’re going to be my mentor, why don’t you tell me how to spend my ability points?” I asked.

Nikolai sighed, long and hard, in Cleeve’s direction. Then he asked, “How many do you have?”

“Thirty-six.”

Both men blinked at me.

“How many levels did you gain today?” Cleeve asked.

“Six.”

“The agachnern,” Nikolai said with a nod.

I nodded.

“Six levels and you received 36 points?” Cleeve asked.

“Correct,” I said.

“You see why this must happen now, Nikolai?” Cleeve asked my less-than-happy mentor.

Nikolai nodded, resigned to his fate.

“Montana,” Cleeve said, “I need you to listen carefully to what I say. The Emperor will die soon—”

“I—”

“Did he not tell you to listen?” Nikolai barked.

I held up my hand, chagrined.

“In the War for Okobalt Fields,” Cleeve started, “the Emperor was mortally wounded during an attempted assassination by a traitor. Four people were in the tent when the coward struck, and it was I who slew the traitor. In that moment, the Emperor barely clung to life, his wound clearly fatal. The High Magus stood with us, and he asked if I was willing to save the Emperor. I had no choice but to agree. The Magus wove a complicated spell which nearly killed the Magus. But it tied the Emperor’s life to mine, and my life to his. My life force is used to keep the Emperor alive. But when he dies, I too, will die. For this, for my sacrifice, the Emperor gave my family a chance. I was given a dukedom in the lands.”

“If you have a family,” I asked, “why adopt me?”

“I am the last of my line,” he said with more than a bit of sadness in his voice. “The only family I thought I would have were my soldiers. I promised them a place to bring their families. A place where there will be peace to raise good people. I thought I had more time to make all of this happen, but I fear my life will end soon. The Emperor’s brush with death is known, and his enemies are circling. It is only a matter of time before—”

“I get it, but I just don’t see how I fit in.”

“May I try to explain, sir?” Nikolai asked Cleeve.

Cleeve waved his hand. He took a moment to drink his ale before offering the table to Nikolai.

“Look, fool,” Nikolai said, “there are only three things you need to understand. One, we need to get the land claimed as a dukedom claimed before Cleeve and the Emperor die. Two, there needs to be a legal heir to the dukedom before Cleeve dies, or the next onto the throne will just appoint someone else. Three, the duke must be strong. Strong enough to withstand the political ambitions of the other nobles in the realm, but also the outside world. He must be a beacon that will bring good people to his hold, be fair, and just. He must be a terrible combination of things that you most definitely are not, but that you must become. For this to be a place worth having, we must have a leader who is stronger than anyone else in the Empire.”

I frowned, tapping the table with my fingers. This didn’t feel right. Why would Cleeve and Nikolai want to do this? What would they gain? And for that matter, what was I going to gain? A title? Land? A ridiculous amount of responsibility?

“Guys,” I said, “I’ve always been more of a follower—”

“And how has that worked out for you?” Cleeve asked.

I must have looked shocked, because the man seemed to know he’d struck a nerve.

“I take it there was a reason you left your world for ours. But I feel there is a strength in you. You have already shown, more than once, that you will put others before yourself. Ultimately, I will not force you into this; it must be a choice you make. But I know you will excel and make our world a better place.”

As I mulled over everything, I took my time with a long drink, enjoying the bubbly beer. Even if it was warm, it’d been a rarity in the Empire of Glaton. I opened my mouth to say something, but there was a knock at the door.

Owen stuck his head in the door. “The mayor is here for you two.” He nodded, then ducked back out.

“The time for a decision has come, my friend. What say you?”

“I’ll do it,” I said, “but Nik has to agree to be my advisor.”

Cleeve smiled.

“And be nice about it,” I added, also smiling.

Nikolai did not smile.

Chapter Two

Cleeve went off to do whatever it was he needed in order to formally adopt me and make me his heir. Nikolai took me back out into the tavern to talk to the mayor, a gnome named Nout Deuzemann. He was busy holding court, standing on a stool, talking about the danger the town had faced and overcome. His hair fell in golden ringlets around his jolly, round face, and he wore a velvet suit in the medieval style, with frilly sleeves and plenty of accent lace. He looked like a drunk cupid, minus the wings.

“And these are our heroes of the day?” Nout asked, sweeping his slightly watery eyes over to us. “I hope so — they are delicious.”

I gave a half-hearted smile and wave. Nikolai shuffled slightly so he was hidden behind my bulk, and then shoved me forward.

“The town of Saumiers is so appreciative for the bravery shown. We have been under the heel of those bandits for months now. They have ruined our trade and violated our homes.”

Nout reached a hand out and someone who seemed like his lackey put a heavy pouch into it.

“In honor of your great deeds for the town—” Nout said.

“And because a reward was promised,” Owen interrupted.

Nout shot the barkeep a dirty look, but kept going, “A reward. Forty crowns.” He proffered the bag towards me. As soon as I took it, he grabbed my wrist and raised our arms up together. “The heroes!”

The crowd cheered halfheartedly. Apparently Nout didn’t exactly have the townsfolk behind him.

He held my hand up for what felt like a full minute. It was remarkably awkward. Finally, Nout dropped my arm, hopped off the stool, and stomped out.

I opened the bag and peeked inside.

Gold coins, as promised.

I leaned against the bar. “How much to buy a round?”

Chapter Three

Apparently just a single gold. Not too bad. I was happy to share the wealth, so I bought two rounds for everyone.

Before I could even take a sip, I was led back to Cleeve. So much for being a leader.

He had a piece of parchment on the table held down by coins at each corner. On the edge of the table, a strongly-scented candle with a blue and red ribbon tied around it burned brightly.

“Uh,” I said, “this looks an awful lot like some weird ceremony.”

“It is a ritual,” Cleeve said, “and I cannot say how bizarre it might seem to you. ’Tis quite ordinary for us.”

Cleeve had me strip down to my underwear and sit. Then he did the same, sitting opposite me. The two of us sat there, mostly nude, fully awkward. For an older dude, Cleeve had some serious muscle, and more than a few scars. He’d lived his life in the jaws of danger, and only barely survived to tell the tales.

He put his right hand on the parchment. He nodded at me, so I did the same. It felt warm. Like it was, I don’t know, alive somehow. Ew, or maybe it was skin. Discomfiting either way.

Nikolai, who stood just out of view off to the side, did something with his hands. A deep indigo light pushed out from the parchment for a heartbeat before it was sucked back in. Instinctively, I tried to pull my hand back, but it was held tight, stuck or something.

“What the—”

“Hush,” Nikolai said sharply.

I felt a prick on my palm, and knew I was bleeding. I could feel the wetness, but it got pulled away quickly. The parchment was absorbing it.

A prompt in red letters appeared in my vision:

* * *

RECOGNIZE: The Elf-lord Benedict Coggeshall (aka Cleeve Dye) has offered to formally bring you into his family and recognize you as his heir. Do you accept?

Yes/No

* * *

I selected Yes.

A noise rang out, something like a gong. But given the manner in which it sounded, I’m guessing it was only in my head. Or maybe my head plus Cleeve’s.

The parchment began to fill with red lines, intricate filigree spreading out from our hands. Letters formed as the lines met, almost like someone had pre-written everything and we were merely providing the ink. Faster and faster, the lines spread across the document until there was a bright purple flash. It was done.

Then Cleeve’s upper body seemed to fill with tattoos. Marks popped up everywhere. I was about to ask if they were Indicium, but then I recognized the Legion mark on his shoulder, what he had shown when I’d asked. So I kind of assumed they were all different Indicium.

A burning, itching pain spread over my right pec. I looked down, peering through my beard, and saw black lines spreading across me, connecting to form a symbol on my chest. It was very much like a creature, but one I wasn’t particularly familiar with. A bit like a wolverine, but with more teeth and a longer neck. Let’s just say it looked badass. Fierce. The lines were dark and clear and perfect, more so than any tattoo I’d ever seen.

* * *

BOOM. You’ve been granted the incomplete Indicium: Coggeshall Heraldic Achievement. This Indicium is only available to the direct line descendants of the Coggeshall dynasty. You are granted permission to enter family buildings, granted permission to access family funds, and granted permission to use the family name. Note: The other bonuses of this Indicium are locked until the Heraldic Achievement is complete.

* * *

RECOGNIZE: The Elf-Lord Benedict Coggeshall has formally designated Montana as his heir and a member of the Coggeshall Dynasty. Know this: you are formally known as Montana Coggeshall. Know this: you are the final link in the Coggeshall Dynasty chain. If you perish before you designate an heir, the Coggeshall line and dynasty will end with you. All assets of the dynasty and all honorifics of the dynasty will revert to the land itself.

* * *

The parchment shoved me away, and I looked at my hand. There were a few small cuts on my palm, but as I watched, they healed over.

Blue flames roiled over the parchment, melting the candle and the coins. Somehow, the ribbons stayed whole. The way the blood spread over the entire parchment, and seemed to soak into it was both amazing and disturbing. The ribbons and coins disappeared into the document for a moment before popping out the bottom, hanging on as if the parchment was a papal bull; it was as if the document had sucked the ribbons and medals and coins into itself so it could rearrange everything perfectly. It looked pretty damn cool. Everything was still for a moment. Finally, the parchment rolled itself up and sat there.

Nikolai grabbed the document, slipped it into a tube, and disappeared it onto his person.

Cleeve, or Benedict Coggeshall, extended his hand across the table. We clasped wrists.

“Welcome to the family, son,” he said with a wink and a smile on the last word.

Chapter Four

Cleeve said he had business to take care of, but I couldn’t imagine it had to do with the adoption and the parchment, because Nikolai never passed the tube over. Before he left, my new dad basically ordered me to get some sleep. We’d be heading off at dawn, westward bound. It made me wonder what kind of a boat we might take. I was hoping for a setup where I’d be able to laze about during the sunny portion of the day, and fish during the remainder.

Nikolai guided me outside through a back door, and we emerged near the stable. Darius was talking softly to the horses. We waved, he waved, then he walked away. Nikolai did a sweep of the barn and came back over to me.

“You have passed fifth level and tenth level today, yes?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“So your first Choice is upon you. In a sense, your first Choice was stolen from you, but your actual first Choice is nigh.”

“Choice,” I said.

“Right now you are a Level 10 Nothing, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“That is because you have yet to make a Choice.”

“What’s a Choice, man?”

“The Choice details who you are, in a vocational sense and in a life sense.”

“So I could be a baker.”

“I doubt your skills would allow it.”

“Dude.”

“The Gods will give you three to five options, and you must choose one. That becomes who you are for the next five levels.”

“What are you?”

“Not something you need concern yourself with. As you advance, you will find there are more specializations with greater advantages and disadvantages. Right now, I imagine they will be simple. You will likely be offered Warrior. Perhaps something else. You have mostly martial skills, but can cast magic, so that might be something that trips the Gods up, and you will have greater choices.”

“You cast magic too.”

“I do.”

“Can you—”

“No. Not now. Perhaps not ever.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“I can make a guess, and I know my answer. For the time being, do not cast any spells where anyone can see you, beyond myself. Do not call Cleeve his real name, and tell no one of the adoption. As far as the Choice goes, this first one is not crucial. Go where your heart tells you. But remember what your options were. When we speak tomorrow, tell me. We can tailor your training so that when you reach level 15, your options will better match what you need for the future. Was there anything else you needed to discuss with me, your nice mentor?”

“Ability points.”

“Yes,” he said, snapping his fingers and pointing at me. “It is odd, your ability scores are through the roof and your skills are not. You are going up very quickly, which could be very good, but I fear could wind up badly. We must tread lightly. And speaking of light treads, you move like a drunk ox. Put those points into agility.”

“All of them?”

“As much as you feel comfortable, but I would suggest most. You need speed. Anyone who sees you knows you are strong. They will try to best you with speed, and you must not let them.”

“Okay.”

“Good,” he replied. “I must get this to where it needs to go.” He held up the document tube, and twirled it around once for good measure.

I opened my mouth, and raised my hand half-way. Nikolai stopped moving, and sighed.

“What?” he asked. “Spit it out.”

“The Indicia I got—”

“The family heraldic achievement, I gather. What of it?”

“It says it’s incomplete.”

“Of course it does.”

“Okay, but why is it incomplete?”

“The Heraldic Achievement must be individual to every family member. You must do something worthy of being included in the lineage, whether good or bad, before the indicia will complete itself.”

“I thought I was included just by being, you know, his heir.”

“You are included in the family, but not yet in the lineage. To fully belong, you must do something of note for the Coggeshall dynasty. What that is, I do not know. I doubt Cleeve can tell you exactly what you need to do. But perhaps if you ask nicely, he will tell you his tale.”

Nikolai tapped the tube on his head in a mock salute, then walked off into town.

I stood there a moment, and then pulled up my ability scores. Nearby, a horse farted. Ah, the rural life.

* * *

Attributes

Strength: 55

Agility: 17

Dexterity: 19

Constitution: 52

Wisdom: 13

Intelligence: 13

Charisma: 19

Luck: 27

* * *

Unassigned points: 36

* * *

Agility. I wondered what the difference between Agility and Dexterity might be, and as I pondered that, a little window popped up and gave me the definitions.

* * *

Agility

Agility is the measure of one’s ability to move the limbs and body quickly. It has a direct effect on your movement speed and weapon speed, and, to a lesser degree, your stamina drain.

* * *

Dexterity

Dexterity is the measure of ones ability to perform tasks, especially with the hands. It has a direct effect on many skills, especially as they pertain to ranged weapons.

* * *

Neat. So yeah, agility seemed like a good place to dump some points. But everything?

I popped ten points into Agility.

One point into Charisma, just to get a nice round number.

Ten into Dexterity.

Twenty-one down, fifteen to go.

I was a bit stumped. Luck seemed like something I should try to up as much as I could. Almost nothing better than being lucky. But Intelligence was definitely lacking, and if I was supposed to be a leader, I’d need to be smart. Or did I need to be wise? Or likable? I felt like I needed everything.

Ten into wisdom. I needed to do better. Be better. And maybe wisdom would help me lead better. Finally, I put five into intelligence.

A confirmation prompt popped up, and I thought Yes. All of a sudden, I felt different. Poof. It was always a bit weird. I felt lighter on my feet, that I could move better. My feet seemed to know where to go. It was nice.

* * *

Attributes

Strength: 55

Agility: 27

Dexterity: 29

Constitution: 52

Wisdom: 23

Intelligence: 18

Charisma: 20

Luck: 27

* * *

Unassigned points: 0

* * *

I felt exhausted. It’d been a long day. I hadn’t slept, and even though it wasn’t dark out yet, all I wanted to do was pass out.

Clearly, despite the fact that stamina no longer applied to me, fatigue still did. Sure, I couldn’t see a numerical value anywhere, but I noticed a small symbol off to the side denoting a fatigue debuff. I peeked into the tavern. It was still packed. I didn’t think I’d be able to handle anyone talking to me, whether it was about me being a hero or just me being me. So I went through the back door, crept upstairs, and slipped into my little room.

I took half a minute to chuck all my pouches and bags under the bed. Then I stripped down, washed myself off as best I could with the provided pitcher of water, and dropped into the bed.

Despite barely being able to fit in said bed, it was the most comfortable I’d ever been. I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking I’d just rest a second before doing some pre-sleep stretching. But of course, I was out.

Chapter Five

It felt like I’d slept exactly one heartbeat when I woke with a start. But I wasn’t in my bed. Nor my room.

A deep blue sky had taken the place of the inn’s ceiling. I was lying on my back, in grass, and there was the soft soothing sound of water lapping nearby while leaves rustled in a gentle breeze. I looked over to my right and saw a large oak with a massive crown, its longest branch dangling perfectly over azure waters.

I sat up and saw that I was on a tiny island dominated by the singular tree. The water extended to the horizon in every direction. I saw no other signs of land. And yet, I felt calm. Everything about wherever I was felt peaceful and good. Great even.

I leaned my back against the tree, feeling the rough bark against my bare skin.

My eyes popped open again.

I was also naked.

Excellent.

At least I looked good naked now. I did a minimum (or minimum-ish) amount of flexing for myself, and wondered if this was what would happen every time I had to make the Choice.

Ripples formed in the water, and an elegant woman in a beautiful blue gown practically sashayed out. She had long brown hair, dark brown eyes, a pretty face, golden skin. She just looked, well, damn good. Gorgeous.

She smiled at me.

“Montana,” she said.

I scrambled to my feet, trying to somehow hide my dangly bits.

Her grin widened as she watched me. Then, with a wave of her hand, leather pants seemed to sprout out of my legs. Now I was half-clothed.

“Enough?” she asked. “Or do you require a shirt as well?”

“No,” I said. “I’m good. Thank you.”

She nodded.

“Can I, uh, I don’t mean to be disrespectful or nothin,’ but I have no idea who you are. Are you here to, like, give me the Choice?”

She laughed.

“Montana,” she said, stepping closer, her long blue train floating across the water. She stroked my cheek. “I am here to thank you for saving my children.”

“Uh,” I stammered, ever so eloquent. Her touch gave me chills. “I don’t mean to, uh, but I don’t know who your children are. So I’m glad I saved them, but it was, you know, incidental.”

She nodded. “I know. You saved them with no promise of reward. I am here now because I intend to reward you. And you may call me Eona.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Eona,” I said.

She laughed. It was musical, amazing. I’d never felt that great about making someone laugh before.

“There is something so refreshing about dealing with those of you who came from other worlds to ours.”

“Do you do that often?”

“Oh, not enough. Sadly, it would seem most of your kind are far too focused on themselves. This marks the first blessing I have bestowed upon one of you.”

“Like a boon?”

“Not quite,” she said with a smile. “For a boon, you would need to do more than what you have so far. I am marking you as favored in my eyes.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Ah, but it is. You have saved my children. I want people to take fewer of those I consider mine, so I reward you.”

“All right,” I said with a slight bow. “Thank you.”

She put her hand over my heart and closed her eyes. I felt a gentle warmth flowing out and spreading over my body.

* * *

RECOGNIZE: The Goddess Eona offers you an Indicium. Choose:

1) The Blessing of the Axe — You receive +10 skill levels in Axe, +7 skill levels in tracking, +5 skill levels in butchery, +10% movement speed in forests, +3 Str

2) The Blessing of the Spear — You receive +10 skill levels in Spear, +7 skill levels in swimming, +5 skill levels in fishing, +10% movement speed in water, +3 Agil

3) The Blessing of the Bow — You receive +10 skill levels in Archery, +7 skill levels in trapping, +5 skill levels in skinning, +10% movement speed in plains, +3 Dex

* * *

I saw the word fishing, and chose 2) without a second thought.

Eona pushed slightly against my chest, causing a pulse of energy. My first Indicium popped up over my heart. She looked at it for a moment, then traced her other hand over my body, eventually stopping on my stomach.

“Well, if I can’t have your heart,” she said, adding “yet,” with a wink, “perhaps I’ll need to point at it.”

An image of a spear began to form on my stomach. Lots of fancy things swirled around until it was very pretty, with filigree and color.

* * *

BE AWARE: You have received the Eona’s Blessing of the Spear. You gain +10 levels in Spear, +7 skill levels in swimming, +5 skill levels in fishing, +10% movement speed in water, +3 Agility. Some might look upon this blessing with joy, others with anger. A side has been chosen.

* * *

A side?

Eona ran her hand over her blessing, moving a decorative bit from one side of the spear to the other.

“This,” I started, then stalled trying to find the words I wanted to say, “I mean, do you have time to mind or talk or…I mean, I’m not very eloquent.”

“Ah,” she replied, the perfect smile growing, “but your awkwardness has its own particular charm. I can speak for a moment, if you like.”

“I just find this world confusing.”

“And your old home-world, was it not so?”

“No, but, I guess, like, the rules were less codified. We didn’t know what the rules were — no one got any sort of notification. It all seemed much less certain than here.”

“What is your question, Montana?”

“What am I doing here?”

“Receiving my thanks and blessing.”

“Okay, let me rework the question. Why am I picking a side by receiving your blessing?”

“Ah, I think I understand.” She walked over to the tree and touched it, then looked into its crown. The tree seemed to shiver in pleasure, but that could’ve been my imagination. Not like it would have been that weird, there were all sorts of bizarre things going on in this new world. “Montana, were there gods in your old world?”

“That’s a matter of debate.”

“So there might have been, there might not have been?”

“Yeah. That’s about it.”

“Here, there are.”

“I mean, obviously.”

“Oh, I suppose that should be obvious. There are many gods here. And I hate to admit how much we do not get along. Every one of us vies for power. Seeking worshippers and greatness. Well, most. There are some who do not, but they are few and far between.”

“So you’re seeking more worshippers?”

“I am more seeking to preserve those I already have. In the time before now, there were always alliances forming and failing, fights and threats and treachery and war. Constant conflict meant destruction became more common than creation, and our universe began to fracture. To save ourselves, here was a great gathering of all the powers, and an agreement was reached. Rules were codified, and a game began.”

“A game. Is that what I’m playing?”

“No, not exactly,” she replied, shaking her head. “You are a plaything, Montana.”

“Well shit. What the fuck am I supposed to do then?”

“That I cannot tell you. There are rules. Hence why I could not bestow a boon upon you merely because I wished to. You must earn it. And I may not disclose any more about the game than I have. And even what I have told you might be construed as a violation. But we are in relative privacy here, so I felt I might bend things ever so much.”

I looked out at the water, the tiny waves lapping against the green grass. The stillness that had calmed me minutes ago now felt stagnant. Nothing changed here, nor could it.

“So your blessing means—”

“Very little in terms of the larger game. I suppose, if anyone cared to look, it would mean I was supporting whomever brought you here.”

“Mister Paul?”

She tilted her head to the side. Her eyes seemed to glaze over, like she was reading something. Then she came back.

“I see you have received boons from him already. Interesting.”

“Is he, I mean, is he one of the good guys?”

“Regretfully, I have no knowledge of this Mister Paul.”

“How many gods are there?”

“How many stars are there in the sky? There are many layers to the hierarchy, and many levels of power. Eight Gods rule over all, sixty four under them—”

“And 512 beneath them?”

“Yes, and I am one of those 512. There are 4096 in the level below me, and—”

“I get it — it goes on.”

“It does.”

“And Mister Paul?”

“If I must hazard a guess, he could be one of the 512, or even the 4096. While it takes immense power to bring a hero over, there are—”

“I’m no hero.”

“Oh but you are, Montana. You may fight against it, but you have been brought here to be a hero. You will find the world has ways of making you what it wants you to be.”

She walked over to me and rested her arms around my neck in a delightful hug, cutely having to stand on her tiptoes to do so.

“Montana,” she said, leaning her head against my chest, “thank you. I have enjoyed our time together. Thank you, again, for helping me and mine.”

She turned her face to mine. I wondered if she was about to kiss me.

Instead, she smiled, and everything whisked out of existence.

Chapter Six

I popped upright in my bed, tangled in the scratchy wool blankets. Interestingly, I still had the leather pants on. Outside, it was still dark. Inside, the inn was quiet. The moons were high in the sky. Once again, I wished for a watch. I Just needed to know the fucking time. I wanted to curse the skies and scream to the high heavens, but one, given everything that happened to me I wasn’t sure there were high heavens, or even heavens, to scream at. And two, screaming would probably just wake everyone up. Then they’d all be pissed at me, and someone would probably push me off the boat tomorrow and ruin my fishing attempts.

Instead, I sulked. I tried to figure out what to do, wondering if I’d be able to get back to sleep.

A notification blared up, something even I couldn’t manage to ignore.

* * *

In appreciation of achieving both level five and level ten in the same day, you are hereby awarded an bonus of ten levels of skill points in any one skill of your choice.

* * *

IT IS TIME. YOU MUST CHOOSE:

For reaching level five and level ten in the same day, you are offered but one Choice. You must make a Choice. This prompt may not be minimized nor ignored.

* * *

First Choice

* * *

1) Nothing — Nothing is as it sounds. You receive no benefits, no penalties, nothing. You receive nothing. You will be nothing. Not the bravest of choices.

2) Warrior — A warrior makes war, not love. What they war is up to them. Why they war is up to them. How they war is up to them. All martial skills advance double.

3) Raider — A raider takes. Often kills. They are focused on the self above others. All martial skills, appraise, intimidation, and stealth advance double. Bonuses to interactions with evil-aligned entities, penalties to interactions with good-aligned entities.

4) Guard — A guard protects, fights for a cause (be it money or orders or something righteous), and places themselves between danger and innocents. All martial skills advance double, +10% HP. Bonuses to interactions with good- or neutral-aligned entities, penalties to interactions with evil-aligned entities, nobles.

5) Beast of Burden — A beast of burden carries things, hauls things, basically helps move things from one place to another. -10 Int, +10 Str. Bonuses to interactions dealing with beasts, penalties to dealing with sentients.

* * *

You have one minute to decide.

* * *

Helpfully, a countdown clock came up, which was a nice change. How nice to finally keep track of time. Otherwise I was somewhat underwhelmed with my choices. Obviously, choosing Nothing would be a bit funny, but Nikolai would have kittens if I did that, and I needed the guy to be on my team at some point. Similarly, Beast of Burden. Losing ten points of intelligence wouldn’t help anyone. Though I guess after I made that choice, I wouldn’t care. Raider was out, since I didn’t want to be a bad guy. So I was really left picking between Warrior and Guard. Technically, I was a guard. That fit better, but being a warrior didn’t have any specified penalties, so I figured that was the safer early choice.

I watched the timer tick down, wondering what might happen if I didn't make a choice, then realized I’d probably just remain Nothing.

10… 9… 8…

I chose Warrior.

* * *

BONG. You have made your choice. You are a Warrior. All martial skills advance double. Let us go to WAR!

* * *

Sweet.

A puff of black air suddenly swirled around my wrist for half a second, then disappeared. It left a small mark on me: two weapons crossed, a sword and a spear. Another Indicium. Neat. I’d never had tattoos before, and now I did. And these ones stayed hidden unless I wanted someone to see them.

I pulled up my character sheet, just to take a peek at things, make sure I was aware of everything going on. I needed to be a bit more cognizant of the notifications and things happening around me, if for no other reason than to keep Nikolai off my back. Naturally, there were notifications waiting I hadn’t bothered to look at. Though, for once, I had an excuse in that I’d just woken up and had to deal with the whole Choice nonsense.

* * *

Cool beans, you’ve leveled up the skill Spears (Lvl 14). You’re less likely to poke your eye out now! Not much, but less. +18% damage, +18% skill.

* * *

Cool beans, you’ve leveled up the skill Swimming (Lvl 16). You can move through water without drowning. +20% movement speed in water.

* * *

Cool Beans, you’ve learned the skill Fishing (Lvl 5). You are able to catch fish! +5% fish catching chance, +2.5% fish yield

* * *

Hey man! Because you leveled a skill past 10, you get 500 XP!

* * *

Hey man! Because you leveled a skill past 10, you get 500 XP!

* * *

A little added XP was always nice. Plus I felt like I could probably fly through the water now. I still had the ring of water-breathing, and I was really curious to see what I could do with it once we were out on the lake.

My character sheet looked rad — I felt like I was rounding out as a person in this world.

* * *

Montana - Lvl 10 Nothing

Traits

Race: Fallen

Height: 6’3”

Weight: 280 lbs

Eye Color: Hazel

Hair Color: Blonde

Renown: 0 - No one even knows you exist.

* * *

Statistics

HP: 236

STAM: n/a

MP: 182

Armor: +23 (Chain Mail)

Active Effects: None

* * *

Attributes

Strength: 55

Agility: 30

Dexterity: 29

Constitution: 52

Wisdom: 23

Intelligence: 18

Charisma: 20

Luck: 27

* * *

Unassigned points: 0

* * *

Skills

Riding - improvised (Lvl 1): You can now ride improvised devices. +5% to handling.

Falling (Lvl 1): You can flail through the air with the best of them. Watch for the sudden stop at the end.

Animal Handling (Lvl 5): You can calm down a domesticated animal, keep a mount from getting spooked, intuit an animal’s intentions, or, if you’re really lucky, tame a wild beast.

Harvesting (Lvl 5): You can pick plants, you can grab fruit, you can cut neat things out of creatures you slaughter. That’ll save the world, right? At Level 5, you are able to harvest common elements with no penalties. +10% successful gathering chance.

Swords (Lvl 5): You can swing sharp objects and likely not hurt yourself. +7% damage. +7% skill.

Spears (Lvl 14): Remember, the pointy end goes towards the enemy. +8% damage. +8% skill.

Unarmed Combat (Lvl 9): You can strike with the fist or the foot, and must register your hands as lethal weapons. -13% stamina drain. +13% damage.

Axes (Lvl 9): You can chop down limbs of trees or men. Or monsters. +12% damage, +12% skill.

Large Weapon Throwing (Lvl 10): Take that massive weapon and throw it away! +13% accuracy, +13% damage.

Warhammers (Lvl 5): Everything IS a nail. +9% damage, -9% stamina drain.

Light Armor (Lvl 3): A little bit of leather goes a long way. +7% dmg reduction, -7% movement penalty.

Heavy Armor (Lvl 1): Metal protects better, but gets in the way a bit. +5% dmg reduction, -5% movement penalty.

Stealth (Lvl 1): Be sneaky! Move around in silence! Tip-toe up to giants and dragons. You’re totally going to start stealing stuff now, aren’t you? +10% harder to detect.

Improvised Weaponry (Lvl 1): You can make a weapon out of anything. Say, a dwarf stabbed to a chair. +5% dmg when using made up things as weapons.

Swimming (Lvl 16): You can move through water without drowning. +9% movement speed in water.

Fishing (Lvl 5): You can attempt to catch things in the water.

* * *

Abilities

The Sword of My Enemy is My Sword: You’ve found that, in a pinch, every weapon will do. +1% dmg for each new weapon used in a combat.

Iron Will: Stamina no longer applies to you. What a beast you are.

Make An Entrance: You really know how to enter a room! Once per day, you may use your ability to make a grand entrance such that those on the other side of the portal are stunned!

* * *

Feats

None

* * *

Boons

Powerful Build (Mister Paul) - You are bigger than you look. For all strength roles, you are counted as one size category larger than you actually are.

Regeneration (Mister Paul) - Outside of combat, your body will repair rather quickly. Given enough time, it’s possible you will heal from nearly any wound.

Gift of Gab (Mister Paul) - Should you encounter a language you do not understand, as long as you hear at least three words of it, you will understand it, and speak it, perfectly.

* * *

Indicium

Coggeshall Heraldic Achievement (incomplete) - You are granted permission to enter family buildings, granted permission to access family funds, and granted permission to use the family name.

Eona’s Blessing of the Spear - Eona blesses you with +10 spear, +7 swimming, +5 fishing, +10% movement in water, +3 Agility

Choice, Warrior - All martial skills advance double. Let us go to WAR!

* * *

Relationships

Rumib Pass (destroyed) - Liked

Languages

Goblin

Imperial Common

Mahrduhmese

* * *

Spells

Lifeform Identification (Lvl 1) (costs 1 mana): Identify uncommon or lower lifeforms.

Basic Object Identification (Lvl 1) (costs 1 mana): Identify any non-magical common or lower item.

Heal Other (lvl 1) (costs 100 mana): Through the use of magic you are able to heal another through touch. Heal 50 Hp.

Humus (lvl 1) (costs 10 mana): This spell gathers dirt and organic materials, moisture, and bacterial ingredients within one mile/level of the caster and places the mixture anywhere the caster wishes within range. This is humus, the black, enriched soil excellent for growing plants in pots or gardening. Of course, the mage may use it however he wishes, but it is usually for growing things in pots and window boxes. If no such materials are within one mile/level, the spell has no effect.

* * *

“Looking good, Montana,” I said.

Chapter Seven

Morning came along far too quickly. I was still deep asleep when someone pounded on my door and yelled for me to get my lazy idiot ass moving. Good money it was Nikolai.

Cleeve gathered everyone in the stables, and then broke us into two groups. Group one would take two of the wagons and all of the horses, and use the Imperial roads to go down to the capital and then up and over to Osterstadt. Their trip would take them most of the fall and some of the winter, having to go all the way south to the capital city, then turn west and go through another city before heading north on roads which had yet to be completed leading to Osterstadt.

Cleeve had some time-sensitive deliveries to take care of, and the long way around simply wouldn’t make that possible. So group two would traverse the lake, hike through the wilderness, and hopefully, reach Osterstadt on schedule. We only had three weeks to reach the city, or something bad would happen. I started to ask why, but realized the meeting was not the time for questions. Cleeve wasn’t exactly a fan of interruptions.

Group two was the smaller of the two, made up of myself, Cleeve, Nikolai, Lee, the elf who was also from Earth like me, and the burly guard, Teela. Five people. I figured it’d take some time to get the goods sorted out, but apparently all of that had been taken care of while Nikolai and I were galavanting about rescuing villagers. We lucky five, the hikers, were each given the medieval equivalent of a hiking backpack: a wood and leather frame with leather wrapped bundles tied to it. Naturally, mine was the largest and heaviest. It didn’t sit particularly well on my back or hips, but once I got it on, it really didn’t feel like much at all. I suppose because it wasn’t, you know, a thousand pounds, it wasn’t too heavy for me.

“Don’t unpack this,” Hademar, one of the drivers, said. Apparently he’d been the one who did the packing, and so it made sense he was the one who didn’t want me to unpack what he’d done.

“There’s nothing I’ll need in here?” I asked.

“No. Don’t touch it. Just wear it and leave it alone.”

I just shook my head. Whatever — as soon as we got to the lake, I’d drop the pack onto the boat, kick my feet up on the side, and drop a line over. It was time to fish. It took a bit of work, but I got my other pouches tied to my main pack, and tied the Unfillable Knapsack to the very top. The Bag of Holding by another name was definitely my most valuable possession, and I didn’t want to risk it falling in the water and disappearing .

The wagons rumbled away. The five of us stood in the stable yard, watching them go for a moment longer. There was noticeable tension in the air. Which confused the heck out of me — was there something I didn’t know? About the lake, maybe?

Cleeve nodded.

“Time to move!” Nikolai barked.

Ominous clouds filled the dark sky, looming over the city. We walked all along the roads by ourselves. And either no one was awake this early, or they were all busy somewhere else.

The lake was calm and dark, the water almost glass-like. A small building stood at the edge of the lake, and a single thin dock stretched out into the water. Two things were a bit odd: One, no boats. Anywhere. Not tied to the dock, not out in the water. Two, a group of Lutra stood between us and the water.

Cleeve came to a stop as the otters stepped forward. They looked very serious, and walked right up to me, ignoring all the others. There were about twenty of them, and they ran the gamut in terms of dress and manner. But the one in front definitely looked in charge of the group. A dark metal circlet ringed her forehead, and she wore the equivalent of a Lutra gown.

“You are Montana?” the leader asked.

“I am,” I sad.

“You were the one who saved my clan?”

“I guess so, yeah.”

“Then, as a means of gratitude, I, Thorve Armodottir, Clan Mother of the Zoubaida Clan, give you two of our best warriors as hirðmen.”

Two of the largest Lutra stepped forward. They were somewhere in the neighborhood of three or four feet, and heavily muscled under their sleek fur. They each had supple leather armor and roguish smiles. With packs on their backs and spears in their hands, they were ready for travel.

“I’m not exactly sure how this works,” I started. “I’m—”

Cleeve grabbed my shoulder and pulled me behind him.

“I beg but a moment, Clan Mother,” he said.

She nodded.

Cleeve turned to face me.

“I’m missing something about how important this might be, huh?”

“You are,” Cleeve said, speaking very softly. “This is something I imagined you would deal with in the future, but not yet. Rulers, nobles, leaders, those types. They will have what is known as a hirð. Those in the hirð are hirðmen. These are individuals who tie their fate to you. In a sense, they function as an extension of you.”

“Like a party?”

“Like a party, but different. A party must be formed up, and a party can be dissolved at any time. Hirðmen are with you for life and beyond. They swear to protect you and yours until they are no longer able to do so.”

“I don’t think this a wise idea—”

“It only lacks wisdom if you do not treat them well and do not understand the full effects of hirðmen.”

“Yeah, I don’t. Do you have hirðmen?”

“No.”

“I—”

“Montana,” he said sharply, “we must be moving. Perhaps this can be a topic more fully explained on the road. Or, if we are lucky, after we are in our new home. Face Clan Mother Thorve, be very polite as there are two sentient beings giving their lives to you, accept the Lutra into your hirð, and let us get moving.”

“Is there a, like, special thing I am supposed to say?”

“You will know what to say when the time comes,” Cleeve said, stepping back to make it clear he expected me to stop stalling.

I turned, saw all the Lutra looking at me, and nodded. I didn’t exactly know how to feel about this. Frankly, I was really over the perpetual confusion in this new world of mine.

“I gratefully accept the honor you are bestowing upon me this morning,” I said, “I do not—”

“Too much,” Nikolai hissed.

Thorve seemed to smile, just a bit, then bowed slightly at me.

“Montana,” she said, “on behalf of the Zoubaida Clan, I offer you Skeld Woodingson,” the larger of the two knelt, “and Ragnar Helfdane,” the other knelt, “as hirðmen for your hirð.”

Words rose to my throat unbidden. “Do you, Skeld Woodingson, enter my hirð freely?”

“I do,” Skeld replied.

“Do you, Ragnar Helfdane, enter my hirð freely?” I asked.

“I do,” Ragnar replied.

* * *

Do you want to form a hirð? Yes/No

* * *

I chose yes.

* * *

NOTICE: You have formed a hirð. A hirð is a fundamental group, and will not be counted against any parties you may join. As the leader of a hirð, you are the only one able to release a hirðman from his or her vow to you.

* * *

I blinked a few times, and felt, well, weird. Here were two sentient beings that had tied their entire lives to me, and if what the notifications said were true, their afterlives. I was more than a little uncomfortable about the whole thing, really. It was a horrible idea for people to just do exactly what I said when I said, because I was kind of an idiot, especially in this world.

For a moment, we all stood there, unsure of what to do. Then Cleeve pushed me out of the way, bowed slightly to the Clan Mother, and walked down to the dock. The Lutra parted, watching us walk away.

The small building was something like a boathouse, except what it held weren’t boats I could see carrying people across a lake as big as the one we were about to cross. Or, at least, as big as it had been made out to be. They were really more like rafts than boats. No gunwales or seats or anything like that — just platforms. Very high boots, like we were about to do a ton of wading, lined the walls. I leaned back out the building and looked at the lake. Then I looked back at the boat thingies.

Everyone else seemed to know what was going on. They busied themselves pulling on boots and grabbing rafts. They pushed by me, left the boathouse, and started down the dock.

Nikolai shoved a pair of boots into my chest as he headed out the door.

“Am I missing something?” I asked.

“Many things,” Nikolai snorted in response. “Move faster.”

The two hirðmen already had a raft for me, and were trotting down the dock after the rest of the group.

“Boots on, sir,” Skeld called back over his furry shoulder.

“Uh, no ‘sir’ necessary,” I said, but I was just talking to myself. I was alone in the boathouse. I sat down, pulled on the massive wading boots, and then followed everyone else down the dock.

The lake was foreboding as fuck. The water looked dark and cold. Above, the clouds were about to burst with rain. I had a really unpleasant feeling about the whole mess.

The dock ended in stairs that disappeared down into the water. Everyone stood around Cleeve, watching me galumph down the dock in my stupid huge boots. It was quite clear they were all waiting on me. I gave a half-hearted wave of apology for being late, and Cleeve cleared his throat.

“The WarWater is not a lake of kindness,” Cleeve said. “It is a place of death and peculiarities. Some of you likely know a few of its quirks,” he looked at the two Lutra, who nodded back at him, “but for some of you, this place is a complete mystery. The only real rule? Do not go into the depths.”

Cleeve didn’t wait for any questions. He merely strode into the lake. He set the raft to his belt, and then started walking through the water.

Nikolai was next, then Lee, then Teela. Each put their raft in the water, tied themselves to it, and started walking.

I looked to my two little buddies. They stared back at me. So I walked into the water, set the raft down, tied it to my belt, and started walking. I looked behind. My hirðmen were riding the raft. Ragnar gave me a jaunty wave. I was forced to wonder what kind of lifelong footmen I’d just acquired.

Chapter Eight

I expected it’d be a short hike through the shallow area before we’d have to start using the rafts. But that didn’t happen. We just kept walking and wading. When the sun finally burned through the clouds in the mid-morning, I got to see what an odd place WarWaters was. Most of the lake around us was shallow, like two feet. But there were deep blue holes everywhere. So deep, in fact, that I couldn’t see the bottoms. Very quickly, the land around the lake went from the hills and forests about Saumiers to steep rocky cliffs with little vegetation. There were a few beaches, all essentially impossible to visit. You’d have to approach the beaches from the lake, as the land side was completely blocked by sheer cliffs. It was like we were in a giant canyon. A canyon with a weird hole-y lake taking up the entire bottom. And it all spread out immensely, such that I couldn’t see any end to it. It just disappeared to the horizon.

“This is a strange lake,” I said over my shoulder.

“Yes,” Ragnar said.

Skeld, for his part, was sleeping. Ragnar looked like sleep might claim him at any moment. Seemed like they were enjoying the ride. I tried to swallow the bitterness that they were getting the boat trip I’d been hoping for.

“You know why it’s called WarWater?” I asked over my shoulder.

“The lake?” Ragnar called back. “I believe there was a war fought over the lake. Legend says these pits and holes are from the war. Great magics unleashed upon the world.

The rest of the group tromped on ahead, moving in silence. There was little sediment on the base of the lake; we were basically walking on solid rock. Sometimes slick, sometimes not. Once, Lee slipped and started sliding toward one of the holes, but as soon as Lee started to fall, Nikolai was there. He grabbed him, and got him back on the path safely.

We paused there, just to let everyone reset. Lee needed to catch his breath and calm down.

“Have you guys ever done this?” I asked.

“Walk the lake?” Ragnar asked.

“Yeah.”

“No.”

I waited to see if he’d expound, but it wasn’t to be.

We resumed the hike. I saw fish in the holes, and occasionally darting through the shallows. Brown trout and rainbow trout. I saw movement down below from time to time. Bigger things were definitely down in the holes.

The day went along, well, I’d say swimmingly, but that seems a bit much. Morning passed and finally we stopped to eat. That’s when I finally understood the rafts. There were small legs tucked into the edges, and they could be screwed into the bottom of the raft, transforming into small platforms that gave us a spot to rest and be out of the water. The others were already sitting on them, catching a little bit of sun. I realized we’d most likely be sleeping on these platforms come nightfall. The cliff walls soared to well over a hundred feet, and with both walls in close proximity, there was a fair amount of wind whipping along the lake. It was colder than it had been around Saumiers, and everyone just sort of wrapped themselves up in their cloaks.

Lee broke out some rations, hard tack and dried fruits. It was filling in a disappointing sort of way, making me miss real food. Especially the potatoes from Owen’s wife.

Cleeve and Nikolai whispered for a moment, then looked around. Nikolai shrugged. Cleeve nodded, then closed his eyes.

A notification popped up.

* * *

You have been invited to join Cleeve Dye’s Party. Do you accept? Yes/No

* * *

I accepted.

* * *

NOTICE: There is a party quest. You have automatically accepted the quest.

* * *

“Really grinds my gears I can’t see the party quests,” I said.

“You cannot look at your quest list?” Teela asked.

“There’s a quest list?” I asked.

“You see what I am forced to put up with?” Nikolai snapped, pointing to me but looking at Cleeve.

“We all put up with him,” Teela said. “What makes you special?”

“I must be the baby’s mentor,” Nikolai replied.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” I said.

Teela just looked at me and shook her head. She didn’t need to say anything — I could imagine it all just fine.

“Why do you know nothing about quests?” Ragnar asked.

I opened my mouth, then closed it again, unsure how to answer the Lutra.

“Might as well tell him,” Cleeve said. “They are with you for life.”

I gave the man a smile, but really wanted to tell my adopted father to go fuck himself. I kind of wanted to find a time to talk to the hirðmen on their own so I could explain things, but I guess I was going to be forced to go into the details in front of everyone.

“I’m kinda new here,” I said, “from a different world. We didn’t have quests and sheets and stuff there.”

“Oh,” Ragnar said, nodding as if this was something he heard all the time. He went back to eating his hard tack, drinking copious amounts of water as he tried to combat the dry-mouth that came with the incredibly nutritious yet horribly disgusting biscuit-type things. Good thing there was plenty of water around.

Skeld didn’t seem to care either. He just let his feet dangle in the water and kicked a little, splashing a bit while keeping his face turned to the sun, eyes closed. He had a wry little smile on his furry little face. I wished I could relax the way he did.

I did some thinking, focusing on finding a quest menu. I was given the choice of seeing active or completed quests. I figured there might be a reason to look through completed quests at some point, but for the time being, it was better just to look at the quests I needed to complete.

* * *

You’ve accepted a QUEST!

Delivery Date

Get Cleeve Dye and his secret shipment to Osterstadt within three weeks. Or else.

Reward for success: Gold, renown, and land.

Note: quest already accepted by party leader, cannot refuse.

Penalty for failure (or refusal): Loss of title, loss of family, loss of everything except your worthless behind.

* * *

Perfect. No pressure.

Again, I wanted to talk to Cleeve, or even Nikolai, about the quest, and about this walk across the freaking lake, but it just didn’t seem like they’d warm to that at the moment.

Our break over, we resumed our hike, going deeper into the canyon.

Chapter Nine

The hours passed, and the sky darkened. Nikolai called a halt, and we transformed the rafts into platforms. Everyone was quiet. An exhaustion permeated the group. Cleeve, in particular didn’t look so great.

It took a little bit of scrounging along the cliff edges, but we managed to find some wood and a wide flat rock to get a small fire burning on Teela’s raft.

Cleeve waved me over, and so I waded through the water to go sit on his converted raft/platform. I thought he’d wanted to talk to me, but it seemed he was content to just sit with me.

Small waves lapped at the platform. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine being back with Eona. It was much more pleasant to think of the beautiful goddess flirting with me than to focus on reality. The walls of the cliff were somewhere in the realm of one- to two hundred yards away, and I could no longer see the shores of Saumiers. Nor could I see anything on the other end of the lake. I feared we’d be completely out of sight of land soon, because the walls surrounding the lake were shooting off in opposite directions. For the moment, though, I figured we could probably make a break for the cliffs should something horrific slurp out of one of the holes.

“I fear it is time we begin speaking about some of the things you need to know,” Cleeve said softly. I had to lean in to hear him.

“I was going to ask you about the heraldic achievement,” I said. “Two things, one, what’s the animal?”

“Our family charge is represented by the bandersnatch.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are unfamiliar with the animal?”

“Never heard of it.”

“It is an uncommon creature of the Empire, and likely beyond. A renowned predator, it is legendary in its fighting, said to feel no pain, and to resist death until a fight has completed.”

“A bandersnatch.”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” I said, “cool. Two, mine is incomplete.”

Cleve nodded. “Just the family portion, right? A hollow shield with our name below?”

“Yeah.”

“When you are head of the family, the leader, you will receive a crest at the top—”

“But the centerpiece? The, like, text or whatever said I needed to do something worthy of the family to get it.”

Cleeve nodded.

“What’d you do?”

“I was fighting with the Legion, and we were attacked by a rock troll. I managed to score the killing blow after it had laid out nearly all those under my command. That is when the Indicium flared. But as far as I know, defeating enemies is not the only means to completing the achievement. There are plenty of stories about what our family has done in the past. But bear in mind: there are only two members of this family remaining, so ’tis hard to know much beyond what has been written in journals or whispered down through the generations.

“There are a few different levels of the heraldic achievement. The base is what you have. It signifies you are a member of the family and offers few benefits beyond being a member of the family. Once you have earned the centerpiece, you will unlock more benefits, which have been gifted upon our dynasty by our ancestors. The next step is to unlock the wings. I unlocked the wings when I earned the dukedom, so I suppose it is done by adding something significant to the family. Supposedly there are other levels as well. If you ever have the honor to see the Emperor’s Heraldic Achievement, you will understand that compared to him, I have only unlocked the bare minimum.”

“And we’re the only two left?”

“Yes. If you die childless, my family dies with you.”

“But who were, uh we?” How did we get down to just two of us?”

Cleeve smiled, rueful. Then he laid down on his raft, looking up at the darkening sky. “To know that is to know the stories and legends of the Coggeshall family. There might be but a grain of truth amongst all this, you know…”

“A grain is better than nothing. I’d like to have some modicum of knowledge of, you know, who my family is and whatnot. You know, now that I’ve got a family again.”

“You make an excellent point, Montana,” he said, smiling. “Our family has long been in the Empire, yet only minor landed nobility at our height. We were knights in the early days, and we were given a small tract of land within a barony, something which was taken away through treachery four hundred years ago. Our family and the Legion has been tied together since time immemorial. We like to say that the day the first Empress stepped onto the battlefield, her standard was held aloft by a Coggeshall. There have been six Legion commanders who were Coggeshalls. I was determined to follow their footsteps, and I was in line to be the 54th. Until, well, until what happened happened. I was removed at that point. It was no longer safe for me to remain in the Legion.”

“Because you might die. And then the Emperor dies.”

“Exactly.”

“But then why aren’t you, I don’t know, in some chill pleasure palace near the capital?”

“Because, for a man like me, that is more dangerous than being here.”

“I don’t get it.”

“The court has become a vile place, full of scheming, corruption, and murder. If anyone knew the Emperor could be killed by killing me, they would spare nothing to arrange my death. Here, I am unknown. A lowly caravaner, trying to make a quick run across the Northlands before winter. I am not a target here. And as long as Nikolai is around, I doubt much will prove deadly.”

“Why’s that?”

“Look at him,” Cleeve said.

I looked at Nikolai, who was busy fighting with his bedroll and raft, trying to find a way to keep himself from rolling in the water during the night. It wasn’t the most impressive display of a man’s prowess.

“No,” Cleeve said. “Use the spell I know you have.”

With a little mana-fueled will, I cast life-form identification.

* * *

Nikolai

Human

Lvl 51

* * *

I blinked a few times.

“How much can you see?” Cleeve asked.

“Name, level, race.”

“Not Choice?”

“No. Would that tell me more?”

“Likely. But that ultimately depends on if you know what it means.”

“What is it?”

“Elite Thingman.”

“Thingman?”

“The Thingmen are soldiers sworn to the Emperor—”

“I thought the Legion—”

“Please do not interrupt, Montana.”

“Apologies,” I said, and I couldn’t help but add, “Father.”

He smiled. “The Legion swears to the Empire. The Thingmen swear only to the Emperor. They are usually the best soldiers of the Legion. They receive better training, better equipment, and exist only to protect the Emperor, his family, and his desires.”

“So they’re bodyguards?”

“They are a small army. They accompany the Emperor when he accompanies the Legions into battle. And they fight on the front line. They are occasionally sent into battles between lords, when the Emperor decides to take sides. The Legion is only to be used against enemies of the empire, which can include things within the Empire, but is never to be used against Imperial citizens. The Thingmen have no such rule. In fact, they have very few rules. Thingmen are regarded as heroes or monsters across the Empire, depending, I suppose, on your interactions with them. Legion are almost universally seen as heroes of the Empire. The Emperor also has bodyguards, but those are trained differently — they are not soldiers. And naturally, there is always an Imperial hirð, usually quite substantial in size.”

“And Nikolai was a Thingman?”

“Yes. He was a Legionary first, then a Thingman. The Emperor assigned him to me to protect me when I was forced to retire from the Legion.”

“And you have no hirð, right?”

“Not many do,” Cleeve said with a grin. “You are special in that regard.”

“Cleeve,” Teela called out. “Dinner.”

Cleeve patted my leg, then reached out for my arm. I helped him to his feet, and we went and ate a dinner of stewed something or other.

The Lutra bickered back and forth quietly, but when I asked what was going on, they just smiled at me, and ate their stew. I had a feeling they weren’t happy with the food they got. They did offer to take watch, seeing as they’d spent most of the day snoozing while I pulled them along.

Nikolai had them take two of the three watches, and Teela was given the third. The sky turned black, the stars came out, and the lake reflected the gorgeous sky above. It was a moment of supreme beauty. I fell asleep feeling pretty damn good about my new life.

Chapter Ten

Sleeping in the middle of a lake is odd. Not bad, per se, but odd. While there weren’t tons of waves, certainly not large ones, there was just enough movement to make sleep a real challenge. I’d be drifting off, and then a small set of waves would crash-lap against the supports. Somewhere in the middle of the night, I sat up, no longer tired enough to fight for sleep, and no longer willing to just stare up at the sky.

Skeld stood on the edge of my platform, leaning a bit on his spear.

“Morning,” he said, not taking his eyes off the water.

“Is it?” I asked.

He pointed up. “Largo is past mid-sky. So technically morning.”

I looked up to see that least one of the moons was past the midpoint of the sky.

Another set of waves lapped against the platforms.

“There,” Skeld whispered, pointing into the darkness.

A little mental push, and I got my dark-vision going. The colors of the world disappeared into a sharp, high-contrast black and white. Water rippled from one of the deep holes nearby.

“What is it?” I asked.

“No idea. But we are watched.”

“I don’t want to presume too much—”

“You cannot offend me,” Skeld said. “I am part of you. That is a burden the hirðman accepts.”

“Yeah, still, how, I mean, you guys are water creatures, right?”

“As you are people of the plains.”

“Have you explored this lake?”

“No. Never. My clan was of the rivers to the north and east of Saumiers. One winter, we went hungry. The famine continued, and we were forced to retreat towards the city and more formally join the Empire. This was when the clan was taken. Some managed to escape, but our clan was severely depleted by the slavery of the Agachnern. We did not have the chance to explore this lake before. So I apologize — I cannot say what is here.”

“Curious about it?”

“A little. But I cannot imagine this is the time for exploration.”

Bit of truth in that.

I was going to argue that there was always time for exploration, but that’s the moment something breeched the surface in the nearest deep hole. It was gentle, just a massive shape coming out of the water. A gargantuan eye opened up, and stared over at us. Something huge and curious.

“Uh, any thoughts on that?” I asked Skeld.

Skeld shook his head. I noticed his fingers were gripping much tighter around his spear.

I couldn’t help myself though. I pulled the giant boots on and stepped into the water. I moved as quietly as possible, more focused on not waking my comrades up as opposed to not scaring away the giant creature.

It seemed content to watch me approach. The giant eye focused on me.

I stopped a fair distance away. and just looked at the thing. I tossed a little identification magic towards the creature.

* * *

Unknown

Level [Unknown][Unknown]

* * *

Well, I thought, thanks a pant-load, Chet.

I decided it’d be a good idea to use the spell some more, see if I might be able to add a little oomph to it.

The eye dropped, and the water splashed about a bit.

I almost took a step closer, but watching the water, I noticed bubbles and movement. Then a tentacle shot straight up out of the water, arching up and aiming straight for me.

With no eye to see me, I easily dodged the blow.

The massive tentacle hit the water and then the stone ground hard enough that the world seemed to shake. Waves rippled out across the water.

I hopped up to my feet, soaking wet, and looked at the slimy bit of mucus-covered muscle. It pulsated, and I could tell it was just about to start reaching out to find me. Sure enough, it swung low along the surface, sweeping along just above the water. I leapt over the tentacle, and as soon as I hit the ground I sprinted away.

“LEFT!” Skeld shouted.

I dove to the left, watching as the tentacle went underneath me.

I got to my feet as fast as possible, rushing to get out of the creature’s range.

I chanced a look over my shoulder, and saw the tentacle high in the sky.

It came crashing down, and I swear the tip sliced right down my back. I ran until I hurdled the raft, sliding to a stop on the other side.

The tentacle felt around for a little while longer before giving up, sliding back down into the depths below. A moment later, the eye popped back up and looked around.

I flipped it off.

It seemed not to care, but it definitely realized we were out of reach. Finally, it too disappeared below.

I stepped on my platform, pulled off my boots, and my chainmail hauberk fell off.

There was a rip all the way down the back. The tentacle had been just as close as I’d imagined.

“What in the absolute darkened fuck did you do, bumpkin?” Nikolai barked out.

Everyone was awake.

“Just trying to, uh, win some hearts and minds.”

There was a barely suppressed chuckle that I was pretty sure came from Lee.

“Perhaps, since you appreciate watching fish so much, you should take the rest of the watch?”

“Fair enough,” I said.

Everyone grumbled at me, which was also fair. Slowly, they went back to sleep.

I sat there, a bit grumpy. And very wet. And rather unarmored. I felt foolish. Skeld sat down next to me.

“Still curious about the lake?” he asked.

Chapter Eleven

The following day was a slog. We were up and moving by daybreak, but the weather quickly turned against us. Rain fell in great sheets and the wind whistled through the canyon, whipping the shallow water into white-watered caps. We had to lean against the wind to make any forward progress.

Midway through the morning, and without talking to me, Nikolai tied Cleeve’s raft onto mine so I was pulling both. Then he lashed Cleeve’s pack onto my raft. Nikolai and I were the only ones who weren’t breathing hard as we walked into the wind. It wasn’t long before I was pulling all the rafts, as well as all the gear. Ragnar and Skeld kept themselves busy making sure I didn’t get tangled up in all the various lines streaming out behind me.

When we stopped for lunch, Cleeve looked like shit. Ashen-faced and sallow. He laid down on the raft without bothering to convert it to its platform state. Nikolai seemed worried.

I watched the raft bob up and down with Cleeve on it. A little water occasionally splashed up on it, but the thing floated well enough.

As we sat and ate, I noticed Cleeve drifted off to sleep. Nikolai was about to bark his orders out, yelling at us to get back to the slog, but I held up a hand. Naturally, he glared at me as if I had just violated his mother. But, I pointed to Cleeve and made the universal sign for sleep, then tried to suggest through sign language that we let Cleeve sleep while I pull him through the water.

“Are you suffering a fucking fit?” Nikolai hissed at me. “Just say what it is you are trying to say.”

“Let him sleep,” I said. “I can pull him.”

Nikolai looked at me, then over at Cleeve. He nodded once, curt.

“Have your men walk along side,” Nikolai said, “to keep it stable.”

A small hand wave to Lee and Teela, and we got going, heads down into the wind once more.

As the lake opened up, things got even worse. The wind picked up, and the rain seemed to be going sideways. It stung when it hit my face.

Cleeve didn’t wake for hours, sleeping fitfully on the raft until late afternoon. He groggily called for a stop, confused at what was happening. Nikolai went over to the man. They had a hushed conversation, and after a moment, Nikolai told me to keep going. The storm didn’t slack at all through the daylight hours. Somewhere in there, Cleeve fell back asleep.

We stopped at dusk, and did some eating of terrible travel food that made me long for airplane food.

Nikolai walked around to everyone and chatted with them, doing his best attempt at a little morale boost. But when he got to me, I didn’t get that.

“How is your energy level?” he asked.

“Fine,” I said, which was mostly true. The day had been long, cold, wet, and windy, but it really didn’t seem to have too much of an effect on me.

“How long do you think you can pull this all? The gear and Cleeve?”

“How about you tell me what’s going on with Cleeve?”

Nikolai looked over at the older elf, and shook his head. “He is sick.”

“With what?”

“Perhaps flux, perhaps Agno’s Fire—”

“Could a spell help? I could—”

“No,” Nikolai hissed, his hand grabbing my arm. “No magic in the open. You hide that.”

“I’m just saying, I could help—”

“If it comes to that, I will request your assistance.”

“Okay. Fine. If that’s the case, I can pull Cleeve and his gear—”

“And maybe everyone else.”

“You want to go through the night?”

“I worry about Cleeve. I believe he overestimates his health. This path is detrimental to him.”

“Yeah, I can see that. You want to get off the lake.”

“I do.”

“I mean, sure, no problem. I’ll keep going until I can’t. Hopefully the whole length of the lake, but I really don’t know how long it’ll be until I get tired.”

Ragnar hopped into the water, which came up past his waist. The Lutra had otter-like bodies, which meant short legs and long torsos, and their pants seemed much more like shorts.

“We will scout for him,” Ragnar said, planting his spear into the water. I think the move was supposed to look bold and brave, but ultimately it came off looking a bit silly.

“You can see in the night?” Nikolai asked.

“We can,” Ragnar replied.

“Once everyone has eaten, we will get on the rafts and be off.”

Nikolai went back around, and everyone got on their little boats, except for me. More crappy dried food was passed around, and I scarfed it down. Everyone seemed settled on their boats. As I hauled on the line, I definitely felt some weight this time. The rafts were primarily built to be stable platforms, so they had little in the way of hydrodynamics. But even still, it was a massive step up from pulling the damn wagon.

Skeld walked along the raft with the mostly unconscious Cleeve, while Ragnar headed out far in front, making sure I didn’t accidentally step into one of the great big holes.

I worried he’d find a tentacled beast and we’d wind up in a midnight rumble. At least I had a weapon with me now, so I could put up a fight. But even where I was, level wise, I had no idea how I’d fare against something I couldn’t even identify. I made a mental note to talk to Nikolai about level limits and identification and all that.

In the darkness, pulling a bunch of rafts through the rain, I figured I had time to do all the thinking I wanted. And I barely even thought about my previous life. Or her.

Chapter Twelve

Can’t say that I recommend walking through a lake in the rain in the middle of the night. Pretty mis, actually. Ragnar and Skeld traded off every once in a while, but for the most part, we just slogged on. We didn’t get any relief until very early in the morning, when the rain finally gave up. The sun started to mosey on up, the sky lightened, and I could see something on the horizon. A silhouette came out of the water, stretching skyward.

I whistled to Skeld, currently serving as ranger. He looked over at me.

“Let’s angle that way, see what that is,” I said.

He nodded, and slightly shifted the direction he was guiding me.

I plodded along, my head down. The sun rose, and the clouds seemed to vanish from the sky. It was brilliant behind me, light streaming across the deep blue lake and illuminating the thing in front of me: An island with a clearly manmade structure sitting squarely on top.

“Holy shit,” I said. “To the island!”

I didn’t wait for Skeld to start poking around. I just stomped along to the island. With the sun out, I figured it wouldn’t be too much of a problem to see where I was going.

The island was a rather strange geologic formation — pretty much in fitting with the rest of this weird-ass lake. There was a tiny beach, a lot of trees, and then it went mostly vertical until it ended in a small castle. At least, to me, it looked small. Very blocky, with square towers and super tall walls. Grey stone bricks and absolutely no evidence of any residents. To make things just exponentially weirder, at this point, we were far enough out in the water that I couldn’t really see any other land masses. It was just this castle sticking way up out of the water, and then, well, water.

I stopped about a hundred yards away, seeing that there was a shallow path up to the island. I wanted to get an okay from Nikolai before dragging everyone there.

He was already standing next to me.

“You thinking that might be a good place for the bossman to rest?” I asked.

“Are you referring to your de facto father?”

“Yeah. I guess. But it’s weirding me out to consider him, you know—”

“Your father?”

“Bingo.”

“Let go of that discomfort. ’Tis reality now. I say we stop on the island. We dry out, we rest up, we resume walking at night.”

“You’re planning on me walking through the night again?”

“I am. I’d prefer if we all walk through the night, but if need be, I might call upon you to be the draft horse again.”

I shrugged. Part of me wanted to say fuck no, but that was just me being selfish. I was a bit tired, but only in the ‘a nap would be nice’ sort of way. I wasn’t actually fatigued.

Most everyone got off their rafts and untied them from the convoy line. I dragged Cleeve and the gear close to the beach, then stood waiting as Nikolai stepped foot on the rocky beach first. He moved slowly, carefully, as if there might be traps everywhere. I did my best to look at the beach with a keen eye, seeing if I’d somehow pick out traps myself.

I saw nothing.

Nikolai waved at us, and we wall stepped onto the beach. Immediately, I started pulling clothes off. I’d been soaking wet since my inadvisable social call with the big eye, and I wanted a chance to be at least a little dry. Everything went into a pile on a large rock, and then I stood there, naked in the sun. It felt awesome, and for once, I didn’t care what anyone else thought.

I got my knapsack of holding, reached in, and felt a cool nothing. At first I panicked. But then I thought back to the times I’d had a bag of holding in games, and how they worked, so I figured my best course of action would just be trying what the games said. To think of the item I wanted, and reach in to grab it.

I thought of clothes, and poof. They were in my hand. I pulled them out, put them on, and was starting to wring the water out of the clothes I had been wearing when I realized that the leather pants were already dry. I shook them out and started to fold them up when I thought to look at them. I couldn’t actually remember when I’d bought the supremely supple pants.

* * *

Trousers of the Seal

Item Type: Rare

Item Class: Light

Material: Blessed Seal Leather

Armor: +10

Durability: 4990/5000

Weight: 4 pounds

Requirements: May only be worn by those with the blessing of Eona

Bonus: +25% swim speed.

Description: Made from the leather of a blessed seal who died a heroic death in view of his god. The Trousers of the Seal are among the treasured gifts given by Eona to her chosen.

* * *

Wow was I a fool. I unfolded the pants and put them right back on. Sure, they were a bit tight, but they were comfortable enough, and who didn’t like showing their ass off? I got my sword back on, thought about armor, and put my hand into the bag.

Nothing.

I suppose I was hoping for a bit much with such a generalized request out of a magic item. Kind of like when I forgot Alexa wasn’t an actual personal assistant.

Everyone else was engaged in a slightly more polite version of what I’d done —stripping down a few layers and letting the sun warm them up. But no one was quite as soaked as I’d been, so they didn’t need to be quite so thorough in disrobing.

Something thunked into my back. I turned around to see a piece of armor hitting the ground. A leather cuirass with steel pauldrons for each shoulder.

“Cover up,” Nikolai barked. “Need to make sure this island isn’t keeping any dangerous secrets.”

I pulled the armor on with some help from Skeld, who handled the hard-to-reach straps. I did a quick check.

* * *

Heavy Leather Cuirass with Steel Pauldrons

Item Type: Uncommon

Item Class: Medium

Material: Leather, steel

Armor: +24

Durability: 340/500

Weight: 30 pounds

Requirements: none

Bonus: none

Description: Made from boiled and shaped leather as well as forged steel, this armor provides adequate protection, but provides little in the way of fashion.

* * *

Not bad.

“Ready,” I said.

“With your sword on your back?” Nikolai asked, his eyebrow raised.

“Yeah?”

“Unsheathe it. Now.”

I reached back, pulled the blade, and, well, once I got to the limit of my arm’s length, the sword was still in the scabbard. At which point I had to grab the blade (carefully) and pull, working it until it was mostly out. Then there was some awkward fumbling until I finally had a hand around the sword.

“Even the lowliest goblin would have pin-cushioned you twice over during the pathetic juggling act you just performed for us,” Nikolai said. “Back scabbard is for travel only.”

He had a few words with Teela. She had her weapons out and ready, but stood near Cleeve. Cleeve started to stand, but a single look from Nikolai was enough for the old man to sit back down. Nikolai paused for a minute, then walked over to me.

“I need you to make sure this island is safe,” he said, talking low and quiet. “Can you do that?”

* * *

You have been offered a quest by Nikolai:

Safe Is Secret I

Explore the island and make sure there is nothing that will cause harm to Cleeve or his party.

Reward for success: Increased regard with Nikolai and [Unknown].

Penalty for failure (or refusal): Extreme drop in regard with Nikolai, possible death or dismemberment of Cleeve and/or his party.

Yes/No

* * *

Naturally, yes was the only acceptable answer.

“Yeah,” I replied, “I can do that.”

I nodded at my boys. Ragnar and Skeld hopped up from their lounging positions, and immediately had their spears at attention.

“Uh, Montana,” Nikolai said.

“Yeah?”

“Fix your sword.”

Chapter Thirteen

We started by getting back in the water and circling around the island, with myself in the lead and Skeld bringing up the rear. The island was quite steep, but any mildly horizontal spot was lush with vegetation. Small trees popped out of nearly every crevasse, and bushes and grasses were everywhere. It was a marked difference to any of the other shores we’d seen around the lake, which had mostly been bereft of life.

On the western side, we discovered two things: one good, one bad. Good, a small dock, a little hut, and a path leading up to the castle. Bad, most everything to the west was really deep. The shallows seemed to pretty much disappear.

“How do we walk across this?” I asked, looking to Ragnar.

He didn’t answer, too busy staring.

“Let me check this,” I said, pointing to the hut. “I don’t want anything to pop out from behind us.”

I walked over to the hut to check things out. Calling it a hut was bit unfair though — it was built better than that, and was on the larger side. Maybe thirty by thirty, made out of rough-hewn wood. A single window faced the water, with glass that was clearly hand-blown, since it was slightly bulging at the bottom with a bit of a bubble in one pane. Peeking inside showed basically nothing. There were a lot of wood crates, but little else.

I walked around, getting to a side with double doors that ran nearly the entire length of the building. I gave the doors a pull. They creaked, but didn’t open. I peered through the crack between the two doors and saw that they were chained together. With thick metal links. I pulled harder. The wood creaked and cracked a bit, but there was no real movement.

The smart move would've been to go get Nikolai and seek his advice on the matter. But I was afraid that in doing so, I might fail the quest he'd given me. Knowing Nikolai, this could very well be another one of his tests to see if I was capable of handling myself. I couldn’t just run to him at the first sign of trouble.

I figured he'd tell me not to rip the doors apart. But then I wouldn't get to see what was inside. And what if what was inside was the secret danger on the island that would get us all killed?

Clearly, I had no choice but to break in.

It took some real strength — I felt my muscles really pull — but the wood splintered apart, and the chain fell to the ground. Both doors came open, one a bit faster than other, hitting the wall with a thud.

Dust swirled out and settled around my legs while the sun shed light on the inside. Crates were stacked along all the walls, and blocked the entrance. Someone had done their damndest to keep something out of the boathouse.

The crates were heavy, but it was difficult to resist the urge to look inside. I figured there’d be more time to dig in and look later. Pulling the crates aside revealed a boat. It looked like a glorified rowboat, somewhere close to twenty feet long. It had the vague shape of a Viking longship, but nowhere near the size. Provided it was till seaworthy, it’d certainly give us a way across the remainder of the lake. At least until we hit up against the next shallow point and had to abandon it. I peeked into the boat and saw three small skeletons, all huddled down. Scraps of clothing had settled down in the bottom of the boat, but jewelry still hung on bones.

Ragnar popped up next to me and peered in.

“Ideas?” I asked.

“They are dead,” he replied.

“Yeah, got that bit. How’d you think they died?”

“Death.”

“Dead by death. Interesting theory.”

I reached in carefully and touched one of the bones. It didn’t move.

“Are skeletons a thing here?” I asked.

Ragnar gave me an are-you-really-asking-me-that look. “Yes,” he said, pointing to the skeletons.

“No, I mean, ugh,” I stammered, “like skeletons that are, uh, animated.”

“Undead? There are as many undead as there are living.”

“So these might be undead?”

“No, these are dead.”

“How do you tell the difference?”

“Undead are moving.”

I got the snarky hirðman. Lucky me.

“Okay,” I said, “good safety tip. Egon.”

“Egon?”

“Never mind. These aren’t moving, so they’re dead.”

“Probably.”

“I appreciate your confidence.”

He gave me a jaunty little salute, and then wandered out of the boathouse. I made a mental note to crack open the crates later, and followed the little guy.

Outside, Skeld stood at the end of the dock, looking westward over the water.

“Storm’s coming,” he said.

I followed his gaze, and saw an ominous bank of black clouds hanging over the far horizon, speeding towards the island.

“Fuck,” I said. “We need to be quick about this.”

“At some point,” Ragnar said, following quickly as I ran up the the path towards the castle, “you need to tell us what is going on with these quests of ours.”

“Are you on the same quests we are?”

“Everything you take, we take. As your hirðmen, we are an extension of you. Should there be a time we are offered a quest before you, you will get those as we do.”

“How does experience work?”

“What you receive, we receive. Same same.”

“That’s dope,” I said. “Next time we have downtime, we need to talk. There’s a bit too much about our world I don’t know.”

The castle loomed above. Now that I was closer, it looked more robust and much taller than it had seemed from down below. It looked to be purpose-built for war. I’d loved reading about castles as a kid. Studied the hell out of them. I memorized the names of all the parts and built a massive diorama in fourth grade for Mrs. Sperry, something that remained the highlight of my academic career. I knew most everything there was to know about castles as they related to medieval European history, and despite all that, I had no idea why there a big old castle in the middle of a lake.

Heavy doors hung off their hinges, as if they’d been blown off from something coming out of the castle. Oddly, I felt a sense of relief. Something leaving meant there was less of a chance of something left in the castle.

We passed through the barbican. I noticed the portcullis was still up.

Inside, the bailey was wrecked. Broken, weathered wood was everywhere, and decayed bits of straw cluttered the corners. We saw more skeletons here, but not a single one complete. They’d been torn apart, and bones littered the area. I noticed some rusting armor, and, always one to look for loot, knelt down to take a closer look. A thick metal cuirass covered the remains of a torso, but a hole had been punched in the lower quadrant by something with either really big claws or really big teeth. The metal was thick, but it didn’t look like anything I’d seen contemporary soldiers wear. When I tried to get an ID of the stuff, it just came back as Broken Armor.

There were some weapons scattered about, swords and axes mostly. A few spears. I chucked everything that wasn’t completely rusted out into my bag, very curious if I could find a limit to what it could hold. Currently, it seemed a little OP, but then again, why would I complain about something like that? It was one of the ultimate cheats for every RPG I’d ever played. It wasn’t, that because I couldn't see what I had with me. At at some point I’d probably get around to making a list. Provided, you know, I could figure out how to get everything out of the bag.

Instead of heading straight to the keep, I decided to first go up a set of stairs onto the battlements. But there was little to see there, mostly detritus from the nearby trees. There wasn’t any vegetation inside the castle, but everything on the outside had grown up and over. It gave me a vague notion of how long ago everything had happened. Enough for some tree growth, but not enough for nature to begin her reclamation.

Onto the keep. I hoped we’d find nothing but an empty structure. Sure, there’d be a bit of mystery as to why the place was empty, but we could certainly get over the mystery in favor moving along to Osterstadt and not missing our deadline for arrival.

The boys were not eager to go further into the castle. They both lingered close to the portcullis.

“Who wants to come with,” I began, “and who wants to stay here?”

They turned to each other and did a thing with their fists. One of them stuck a thumb out. Ragnar punched Skeld lightly in the chest, and then ran after me.

“What was that?” I asked, stepping through the busted door to the keep.

“Thumbs.”

“How’s it work?”

“Person closest to north is thumb, person closest to south is fist. You put out either a thumb or a fist. If they match, that’s a fist. If they don’t match, that’s a thumb.”

“Sounds like rock paper scissors.”

“I prefer thumbs.”

Had we been somewhere safer, I might have taken a moment to educate my hirðman on the finer points of the great game of Roshambo. But the interior of the keep gave me chills. Swaths of the wall were coated in black, and given how it was flaking, I could tell it was very old blood. Bones and organic rubble were everywhere. This castle had seen wholesale slaughter.

“Eona, keep us safe,” Ragnar whispered as we walked though the remains.

There was a large doorway and two stairwells. Through the doorway, I could see a big room, like either a banquet hall or a throne room. I poked my head in there, and it was the same story: massacre. More dead there than anywhere else so far. But now I saw the remains of things that weren’t human. Or at least weren’t of the various humanoid races. There were bones that belonged to things I couldn’t name or even begin to guess at. While I’d been content to leave all the other bones alone, these ones intrigued and confused me, so I popped them in the ol’ bag.

A large throne had been knocked over and shoved into a corner. The rest of the space was dominated by long tables and benches. There were remains of a meal — nothing food-wise, but all the serving plates, tableware, and silver candlesticks still lay there. That also went into the bag, since sooner or later there’d come a time when I’d need more money, and silver was, for better or worse, money. I couldn’t, in good conscience, leave it behind.

A single door led out of the banquet room. It led us to a kitchen, and then a storage cellar. The cellar’s contents had rotted at some point. An impressive array of mushrooms and other dark-loving plants had filled the space, and there definitely a few small creatures who scurried away into the dark corners when approached. A single small chest sat on a shelf, basically unmolested. I couldn’t help myself — I scooped it up and dropped it in the bag.

Back from the cellar, we went through the throne room, then up the stairs and into the residential areas. The second floor housed barracks. Twin rooms ran the length of the keep, with just a single hallway between them leading to a privy — basically just a seat with a hole in it. The hole led to a shaft that headed outside somewhere. There was a glint of sunlight down below, so I figured it could work as an emergency exit should things get truly bad.

Up to the third floor. This seemed to be the place where whomever was in charge lived. Large rooms, well appointed. There was a small bookshelf with a number of tomes on it (into the bag), and a massive four-poster bed with the remains of a feather mattress on top. A large copper bathtub was in a room by itself, along with a few copper pitchers, likely used to fill said tub. With a little help from Ragnar, and after I explained the magic bag, we managed to get both the tub and the pitchers into storage.

The magic elicited a slight eyebrow-raise in the Lutra, but no comment otherwise. A bit of jewelry was out on a dresser, and we found more inside. All of it went into the bag. We saw a chest I couldn’t open at the end of the bed. Inside. At that point Ragnar got a little overexcited, and basically anything that wasn’t nailed down in the master bedroom went into the bag. I had to draw the line at the chamber pots.

The fourth floor had small rooms, each with a rough-hewn bed, a small dresser, and a chamber pot. Nothing particularly interesting. There were some coins (which we took) and some personal effects (which we took), but there was nothing of real note or value.

The last staircase led to a door that was blocked. Nothing a little banging and shoving couldn’t solve. I broke the door and we got out onto the roof. Some bits of furniture had been made into a barricade, but it hadn’t seemed to have done much good. We found more skeletons up top, ones that’d been torn apart.

This must have been the last stand of the posh owners. There was a ton of jewelry, including something that was definitely a crown, as well as a big fat signet ring. Weapons, however, seemed to be in short supply. I guess the soldierly types had had their own stand somewhere else.

As soon as I grabbed the crown, a ghostly apparition swirled up. A slightly green and lightly translucent woman stood in front of me. She had a very noble bearing. She bowed her head to me, and spread her hands.

* * *

You have been offered a quest:

Justice for a Duchess

The Duchess MacDermott and her kin were killed by [unknown] and she seeks vengeance on that which slaughtered her family.

Reward for success: XP and access to the royal treasury

Penalty for failure (or refusal): None

Yes/No

* * *

It didn’t seem right to refuse, and if the unknown thing that’d done the slaughtering was still around the castle, completing one quest would mean completing the other. BOGO was always my favorite.

“Yes,” I said to the ghost. “I will bring you justice.”

The woman smiled, nodded, and disappeared.

I don’t think I need to say it, but I will: all the goods on the roof went into the bag. As did the few weapons that were there, most of which were more ornamental than useful, a fortune in jewels tacked on to already gaudy sheathes. Ridiculous.

I leaned over the edge and looked down. Skeld was standing at the edge of the bailey, glancing about.

“Everything okay?” I yelled.

It took him a moment to locate us, and then he proffered a thumbs up. Which was a little hard to see because otters have tiny thumbs.

The walls of the castle were built right up to the cliff edges. The keep was situated on the southern edge, and the entrance to the bailey was on the west. A tall tower rose on the east, right above where Cleeve and company were resting. Ragnar scratched his nose.

“You want to look through the tower?” he asked.

“I do. I think it’s pretty damn necessary.”

I eyed the storm for a moment, trying to gauge how far it had come in the time we’d taken to clear the keep. My best bet, we had somewhere in the neighborhood of an hour before the storm hit. I couldn’t see even the slightest bit of sunshine coming through. It was another monster storm.

“Do you have some way to communicate with Skeld?” I asked.

“Sure,” Ragnar replied, with a nod.

“Can you tell him to bring the group around, at least to the boathouse. There might be some—”

Ragnar leaned over the roof and shouted, “BRING THEM TO THE BOATHOUSE!”

Skeld gave another thumbs up, and darted off.

“I could have yelled at him, man,” I said.

Ragnar shrugged. “The tower?”

“The tower.”

Chapter Fourteen

You could only get to the tower from the battlements — it didn’t have a courtyard entrance. Weapon stands filled the entryway, still stacked full of spears. Looking up, the tower was pretty open, just a spiraling staircase up to the roof, which led to a broken door. I wasn’t super into the idea of climbing all those stairs. Not so much because of the exertion — I had that pretty well under control. I just wasn’t particularly keen on finding a monster up on the roof with our one exit a tight staircase down. Opposite the entryway we’d come through, there was another door. One that was open just a hint. Getting closer, I heard noise. Scratching. Moaning. Low growls. A peek inside, and I saw stairs going down.

Down or up. Time to choose.

Really, the best possible option was closing the door to the tower and forgetting about it. So I stalled the decision by loading all the weaponry into the bag. Then the weapons stands. And the side table. And everything else not nailed down in the room. That done, I had to man up.

I held a finger to my lips and indicated to Ragnar that we should be quiet.

He nodded.

I pointed up.

He shrugged, which was enough of a commitment for me.

We began climbing up the stairs. At the top, a door hung off a single hinge, and moved ever so slightly in the breeze. Outside, there was a pointy bit of roof, as well as a small walkway all the way around the tower. There were high crenellations along the walkway as well as murder holes in the floor. We stepped over some bones, ruined armor, and a few busted crossbows. Nothing worth putting in the ol’ loot bag, even by our admittedly low standards.

I looked over the edge, and saw our group had already moved from the initial beachhead. Over to the west, a curtain of rain came down, streaming from completely black clouds. It was one of the most ominous things I’d seen.

“What do you think of that storm?” Ragnar asked.

“It’s going to be a motherfucker.”

“Are we going through the door and down the stairs? Where the noise is?”

“Yes.”

He nodded once. It was clear the Lutra didn’t want to do it, and I understood his hesitation, but we had a quest. Technically, two quests.

Back down the stairs and to the door. I had my sword out and ready, and Ragnar had his spear.

“Quiet and slow,” I said edging the door open. The sounds were still going, unchanged.

Walking downstairs, the walls felt tight, like they were closing in. One flight, two flight, three flights, four.

Finally we hit another door, also shut.

I edged it open.

A strange pulsating light streamed out of the room, almost ethereal.

I peeked around the door, and sighed. Things were never easy in this world. A bunch of creepy-looking monster things were inside, gallivanting about, almost equally split between fucking and feasting on each other.

They looked like they’d crawled out of a pit of hell and spent a few generations inbreeding. Doing my best to keep it quiet, I managed to release my little identification spell on the nearest one.

* * *

Forsaken Hybrid

Lvl 8 Brawler

* * *

They were all variations on that, and roughly levels 6-10. They had sickly yellow skin, with thick wrinkles folding over every joint and limb. Their big mouths were overstuffed with jagged, twisty teeth. Wide orbs with giant pupils bulged from their eye sockets, telling me they rarely left the dark. Massive muscles rippled all over their backs and upper bodies, but it looked like they’d all skipped leg day. Lots of upper body strength, not a whole lot to work with on the lower end.

I tried a quick count, but one of them ripped the head off another who was actively engaged in coitus, causing a spray of green-black ichor and other bodily fluids. I gagged — I couldn’t help. And that was enough noise for the Forsaken Hybrids to realize they had company. A horde of vile eyes were suddenly upon me.

I shut the door.

“Up,” I snapped at Ragnar. “Keep going until you get Nikolai. I’ll hold them off at the door to the tower.”

Ragnar was running before I even finished talking.

The Forsaken didn’t even pause at the door. They slammed through it with abandon. Clearly they were enthusiastic about having new creatures to torment and eat. They crashed up the stairs, right behind us, making an enormous racket.

We burst through the door out into the sunshine. I spun around, grabbed the door, and shoved it shut.

Immediately, something slammed into it, the wood splintering. But it still held.

Ragnar didn’t wait, didn’t stop to see anything. He merely leapt from the wall, his tiny arms pinwheeling as he soared down.

The second he hit the ground he was sprinting, heading straight down the miniature mountain.

I did a quick test with my greatsword, seeing how it felt. Hellreaver was light. Easy. I wondered if I should try to go one-handed, and get a shield up in the other.

Slam.

No time to think.

Slam.

I took a step back, and glanced over to the west. The rain would be here in no time.

Fine, I thought. Let the water wash their blood off.

The door split, and a massive Forsaken squeezed through.

It squinted against the sun, and that was all the time I needed.

I roared, swinging for the fences.

Hellreaver seemed hungry, glowing as I swung the massive blade around, until it bit into the side of the creature. There was a sizzle and a pop. I saw the blade sear the flesh of the monstrosity as it tore through. He crumbled immediately, death coming quickly to the infernal beast.

The rest of the monsters clearly hadn’t fought anyone with weapons in quite some time. They just didn’t seem to understand the extra reach I had. Over and over again, the Forsaken charged, full of rage but devoid of brains.

But it wasn’t neat or skilled work; it was brutal and primal. Swing, chop, thrust, pull, cleave. Maim, kill, reset. They scrambled over their brethren, slipping in the ichor. Which covered everything, including me. A good swing, and I lopped a limb off. A great spurt of the monster’s blood came out, coating the battlements. A chop would take a head, the body still moving for a moment before it realized nothing guided it. A powerful thrust and a monster would drop to its knees, making disgusting mewling noises as green-black blood bubbled out of its mouth.

More than once, a great cleave went straight through a torso, and the monster would scrabble at the stone, trying to grab hold as it fell down into the bailey, its guts stringing out behind like Satan’s party streamers. And the motherfuckers bled like it was their passion. Fountains of the vile liquid erupted from necks and arms. Actually from any hole I put in them, to the point where the ichor was running down the wall and dripping off my armor. Heads, limbs, and other unidentifiable extremities dropped to the battlements and from the battlements in a truly macabre version of a ticker tape parade. It was a celebration of the god of Death, whoever that was in this crazy fucked up world I’d stumbled into.

The monsters kept coming, and had it not been for the beautiful bottleneck the door provided, I’d have probably been overwhelmed. But they could only come at me one at a time, and in their eagerness, they’d often start fighting amongst themselves in the stairwell, so it wasn’t unusual for an already wounded Forsaken to come through and meet their death at the end of my sword.

Nikolai, Ragnar, and Skeld came crashing through the barbican, sliding to a stop as they watched me lop the head off the last lingering Forsaken, a rather fat and slow one who’d been breathing heavily after his traipse up the stairs. Whether by luck or happenstance, the head of the fat Forsaken tumbled off the monster’s body, then rolled off the battlement, and landed with a heavy wet thud on the bricks below.

I gave a jaunty little wave to Nikolai, droplets of ichor flying off my fingers.

He frowned at me.

Chapter Fifteen

“Sorry,” I said. “Thought these guys were tougher.”

He frowned, and poked at some of the remains.

“What were they?” he asked.

“Can’t you do that—”

“Only works if they are alive,” Nikolai said. “Dead things are dead.”

“Need necromancy for that,” Ragnar added.

Nikolai nodded. “And I prefer we stay away from that breed of magic.”

“Yeah, okay, noted, necromancy bad,” I said. “My crap identification had them as Forsaken Hybrids. Brawlers mainly.”

He grunted, which likely meant he was deep in thought. Or that I’d done something stupid. Not mutually exclusive. A quick nod at the Lutra, and the three ascended the stairs.

The rain was just off the island now, maybe two hundred yards away. It made quite a loud thrumming, smashing against the water.

“The whole castle was massacred?” Nikolai asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Looked like it was a brutal encounter. That boathouse was locked from the inside, with people barricaded in.”

He shook his head, frowning.

“What?“

He kicked at the nasty remains in front of me, causing some to roll off the battlements and send a spray of ichor around the bricks below.

“These aren’t tough,” he said. “Pushovers. You just killed, what, ten, twenty?”

I did a quick perusal of my notifications.

“Forty-three,” I said.

“Worse than I thought,” he said. “Something else had to have been the cause of this.”

“Easy to check,” I replied, “I have a quest to get vengeance on—”

“You dumb sack of shit.”

“Hey—”

“You took a quest? Here?”

“Yeah, what—”

“You do not think that might fuck with our timeline? With needing to get that dying man down there to Osterstadt before you lose everything we have been working towards, you fucking assbutt babyface fuckwit? Invite me to your party and your quest, assface.”

It took me a moment to figure it out, but I sent over an invite.

* * *

Nikolai has joined your party.

* * *

His eyes unfocused, and I could tell he was reading something.

“Let us go and get your mess cleaned up,” he said, and tromped into the tower.

I looked at my hirðmen. They looked at me.

“Thoughts?” I asked.

“No,” Skeld replied.

Ragnar opened his mouth, held up a finger, then shook his head.

“All right then. Let’s go,” I said.

“Already said that,” Nikolai called out from inside the tower.

I rolled my eyes, but got moving.

The door at the bottom of the tower was closed.

I narrowed my eyes. “That’s weird,” I said, pointing to the door.

Nikolai pulled it open, just ever so slightly, then peered in. A heartbeat later, he opened the door up the whole way.

The room sat empty. Of anything moving or alive at least. It looked like it might have been a torture chamber in its previous life, before it became the sex dungeon for the Forsaken. There were still chains stuck in the walls, and racks of nasty-looking implements. Cells with iron bars lined one wall. But mostly, there was shit. Like literal shit, and tons of it. Piles of the nasty stuff, smears on the walls, everywhere.

One of the Forsaken had been in the middle of a meal of another forsaken when I’d interrupted them, and that creature was still alive. Barely. He made noises at us, seemingly unable to decide if he was going to growl at us or mewl for mercy.

I walked over and slid Hellreaver through its forehead. The creature stilled.

Then it voided its bowels. It was a hard moment, but I held my vomit in. The Lutra did not.

Nikolai, with some sort of power eluding me, just moved through the space without concern.

“Come,” he called out, standing at the far end of the room.

I had to navigate the mess on the floor, but I got over to Nikolai. There were three doors ahead of us.

Two were broken, hanging open. Nikolai pointed one way and then to himself, then the other way, and to me.

One was just a row of empty jail cells, which Nikolai took.

The other was a small office and living quarters. There were no remains inside, and very little intact furniture. I ran my hands across the walls and found a loose brick above the straw remains of something that had likely been a bed at one point.

A little shimmy using my blade as a lever, and the stone popped right out. I snatched it out of the air as it fell, and set it gently on the ground. In the little open space that remained, I found three small sacks, one jewelry box, and a funky-looking key nearly as big as my hand. The sacks and box went straight into my bag. The key, though, I kept out, sliding it into a small pouch on my belt. If any of the games I’d ever played were true, finding a key meant I’d need it soon.

Nikolai was waiting in the hall with the two Lutra, both of whom looked a little green around the collar. At least, as far as I could tell given all the fur covering them.

We approached the next closed door. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.

Nikolai peered around the door as he opened it, doing his beast to get a view of anything that might come at him.

It was a fucking hallway. Not a long one or a special one. Just a hallway with another fucking door at the end. Which was also closed.

As we headed down, I made sure I gave Nikolai enough room to swing his sword around should it be necessary.

For real this time, I braced myself for whatever we were about to encounter.

Chapter Sixteen

We made our way into an octagonal room that seemed half lab, one quarter library, and one quarter living space. But none of that was really important. The most terrifying element of the room was on the far wall. It’s hard to describe because it broke my sense of reality. Pieces of, well, reality seemed to be in tatters and hung around a, um, another? It was like something had torn the wall, and pieces of the wall hung down as if they were fabric. Looking through said hole, I saw another world: bits of sand and a reddish sky. It was difficult to keep my eyes on it. The hole flickered along the edges, kind of like static. My only guess was that it was a wormhole of sorts, though having never seen one before, I had little confidence.

“Fuck,” Nikolai breathed quietly.

“What the fuck is that?” I yelled.

“A portal to another plane of existence.”

“You’ve seen them before?”

“Once.”

“Any idea where it leads? Like, Hell?”

“Given that we faced the Forsaken, Hell would be my guess.”

“Wait — are you about to tell me there’s more than one Hell?”

“There is only one Hell.”

“But?”

“There are other, well, negative planes. Hell, The Abyss, The Darkness, The Wastes, and my personal belief as the worst, The Outside.”

Ragnar and Skeld muttered.

“And this leads to Hell?”

“Likely. I believe the Forsaken hail from Hell, but I am not completely positive.”

The other side of the portal was unpleasant to say the least. I mean, where we were was full of demon shit, carcasses, blood, guts, and a whole host of other fluids I didn’t even want to think about, but the other plane was just horrific. We looked into a valley that was completely devoid of vegetation. Clouds moved by in the sky, but far too quickly. Bold flashes of lightning were a relative constant, and thunder boomed through the air.

“Okay,” I said, “so I’m guessing we need to shut that thing down.”

“We do,” Nikolai replied. “Which means we must go through the portal and find the portal stone.”

“Cool. What’s that?”

“The thing that keeps the portal open. It will be a thing from this land, taken over there and kept. Should we manage to bring it back, the portal will close.”

I smiled. “Sounds simple enough.”

“Nothing involving portals or the lowers planes is ever simple, and to think it might be is to be a fool. So why am I surprised you think it is simple?”

I rolled my eyes. Nikolai being such a drama queen was starting to wear on me.

“I got this,” I said. I took off the knapsack and handed it over to Ragnar. “Keep this safe.”

He nodded.

“You and I will go through,” Nikolai said, his eyes still not off the portal. “Your hirð will remain behind to guard our exit. Should we perish,” he said turning to Skeld, “you shall take Cleeve on to Osterstadt.”

“Apologies,” Skeld said, then pointed at me, “but we can only take orders from him.”

“Just do what he says,” I said. “I die, get Cleeve to Osterstadt. Or if I don’t die and the portal closes, get Cleeve to Osterstadt. Okay?”

“Understood,” Skeld replied.

“Do I get to keep the bag if you die?” Ragnar asked.

“Skeld gets half,” I said.

Then, Nikolai and I stepped through.

Chapter Seventeen

The other side was, in fact, hellish.

* * *

Ah, an Explorer. You have discovered another plane of existence. Welcome to Hell.

You gain 1000 XP.

* * *

Points for discovering places! Seemed like maybe it’d be useful to bounce around. But just 1000 points, though. Unless the points increased, it seemed pointless to do in later game.

The air was hot yet fetid. Dry but stinky. Dread washed over me in waves, and I wanted to retch and run. I’d do anything to get the fuck out of dodge.

“This place sucks,” I said.

“It is literally Hell,” Nikolai said, his eyes scanning the place. “What were you expecting?”

The man had a point.

“What exactly are we looking for?”

“I have no way of knowing,” he replied. “It will be something from our world. It will retain the feeling of our world, so it will not feel as hellish as anything else you touch here.”

Nikolai started searching in front of the portal, kneeling on the ground and looking in the various cracks.

I walked around to the edge of the portal, trying to get a look at what was on the other side. It was confusing, because on one side, I saw the room in the castle and the Ragnar and Skeld standing there looking worried. On the other side, there was no sign whatsoever that the portal existed. So I just saw Nikolai fumbling around the cracks for a stone. Given other circumstances, it might have been hilarious, but at the moment, it was rather terrifying. The Forsaken had been pretty easy to dispatch of, but I had no desire to go up against anything bigger or badder.

Then I noticed a man. Or something that used to be a man. The figure knelt on the ground. His arms were outstretched, tied at each wrist to poles on either side of him. His head hung down. On his back, his skin had been removed and stretched out to form wings. Walking around, I saw that his ribs had been broken and folded out, and were resting on his ‘wings.’ Finally, his lungs had been pulled through his ribcage, and were exposed to the air.

On the far side of the man was a small hut, built out of a darker mud than any of the soil around the area.

A rattling noise came from behind me, and I turned to look at the man.

His lungs inflated, and I screamed, then backpedaled, hitting the ground with my back.

Immediately, it was clear I’d made a rather large mistake. There was a very loud gonging sound, like, I realize now, the ringing of Hell’s bells. At the same time, Hellreaver started heating up to the point that I could feel it through my armor.

“What was that?” Nikolai asked, looking around, trying to see through the portal.

“My sword,” I replied, pulling the blade from its scabbard and holding it out at arm’s length. It glowed white, heat radiating off.

Nikolai raced around the portal and glared at me.

“Any chance ’tis a holy relic of some variety?”

“I mean, it’s called Hellreaver — your guess is as good as mine.”

Nikolai stared at the weapon a moment, and I felt a tingle as he cast a spell.

“Fool,” Nikolai snapped. “It is a blessed weapon, and you touched it to the ground here?”

“By accident.”

“Accident or on purpose. Same result.”

“I take it this is bad.”

“Every devil, from the lowliest imp to the King of Hell himself, just got notice of some element of Heaven in their realm. They are all racing this way right now, slavering at the chance to kill an angel or agent of good. When they get there, they will find an open portal to our world, and they will kill themselves to get through and wreak havoc upon it.”

“Yeah, that’s bad.”

“Find the portal stone. Fast. Even I am no match for most of Hell. Find the portal stone, or we will die.”

“You think it might be this dude?” I asked.

Nikolai looked over the man.

“He’s still alive,” I said.

“It is not him.”

Curiosity swelled. How did Nikolai know? But this wasn’t the time to talk about it. There were already screams and shouts coming over the hills.

A nasty creature came around the hut. He was vaguely humanoid and had overly-tight black skin, horns sprouting from a horse-like head, weird boney protrusions all over the body, tattered wings hanging off its back, and cracked and cloven hooves at the end of his spindly legs.

I fired off a quick bit of magic to identify my opponent.

* * *

Voloth Tongue Eater

Lvl 9 Tormenter

* * *

The Voloth Tongue Eater babbled something at me I couldn’t identify or understand. Then, my boon fired off, and I got a notification:

* * *

Smashing! You’ve learned a new language, Infernal.

* * *

Nice.

I didn’t really feel like talking to him, though. Instead, I swung Hellreaver around at the creature, putting some serious strength behind it.

I hit, but it just sort of bounced off.

“Your weapon has no power here,” the Voloth rasped at me. He let his head snap back, his mouth opening wider than it should have been able, and started laughing. It was a horrid sound that really shook me, like the longest, nastiest nails scratching across a gross plate.

Nikolai said something behind me, but I wasn’t interested in what Nikolai had to say.

Instead, I dropped the sword (which sent another loud gong noise out into the world as it hit the ground), reached out, grabbed the asshole’s two horns, and started pulling.

The Voloth screamed and reached for me, but my arms were longer than his.

Something started to give in the monster’s skull, and the Voloth found a new octave for screeching, even as he got his claws into my arms. I didn’t have much in the way of protection around my arms beyond the pauldrons on my shoulders, and the devil started shredding with wild abandon.

But I wasn’t about to stop. I could feel the horns getting just a little farther apart. I closed my eyes, roared my anger at this stupid situation, and finally heard a tearing sound.

The devil’s skull came apart, revealing a mess of internals and a rush of black viscous fluid. The screaming suddenly stopped. The creature went limp, and I held it aloft by the horns. I tossed the body to the side, shook some of the devil blood from my hands, and grabbed my sword.

* * *

GG! You’ve killed a Voloth Tongue Eater (lvl 9 Tormenter).

You’ve earned 1250 XP! What a mighty hero you are.

* * *

“Help me with him,” Nikolai yelled.

I looked over my shoulder to see him kneeling in front of the bleeding figure, working to untie him. I raced over, sliding the last few feet on my knees.

The man, or what was left of him, wheezed, bloody bubbles coming from his mouth.

“Heal him,” Nikolai ordered.

I channeled some magic and laid my hands on the man. Purple tendrils seemed to leech out of me, surrounding the man for a heartbeat. They caressed his skin, then dissipating as if blown by a gentle breeze. He didn’t look a whole hell of a lot better once the spell was done, but he opened his eyes, and the bloody froth stopped coming out of his mouth.

“The portal stone,” Nikolai hissed, “where is it?”

“Hut…” the man whispered, barely audible.

“Go!” Nikolai yelled.

I ran. On the horizon, I saw dark shapes both in the sky and on the skyline. Knowing a distraction would be super useful right about now, I grabbed the sword, said thank you to Hellreaver, then hauled off and threw it as far as I possibly could.

The sword glowed white, searing the sky like a tracer bullet. It went quite the distance, and as soon as it hit, a long bong sounded out once more. The shapes on the horizon changed directions ever so slightly.

I lost traction and slid to the ground. I had to scrabble back to my feet, coming to the back side of the hut on all fours. There was small arch leading into the hut, and I ran through without a second thought.

The inside of the place stank, so bad it felt like the inside of my nose was burning out. My eyes watered. My gorge rose. It took serious effort to not vomit.

A small bunk sat to one side, with a shelf opposite and a desk in between. In the middle of the desk, there was an open book.

Screeches sounded off outside.

“Montana!” I heard Nikolai yell.

I threw everything from the hut onto the blanket on the bunk, then wrapped it in a bundle. I grabbed the bundle, and took one last look around the place. It was devoid of everything but the shitty furniture, so I booked it.

The devils were definitely coming quickly. The whole throwing-the-sword trick hadn’t fooled them for long. A quick glance in any direction revealed nightmares converging on me. The ground was straight up rumbling under a million infernal feet, or hooves, or claws, or any of the other horrific things the hellish creatures used for charging at us.

I sprinted across the shitty yellow dirt. Thank god Nikolai stood at the edge of the portal, because otherwise, I’d have no fucking clue which direction to go. He waved for me to run faster.

Behind him was a maelstrom of teeth and claws, the gap closing between him and a cavalcade of terrors and horrors screaming and roaring. I wanted to lay down and give up. I promised myself I’d put more points in Agility if I could just escape these devils.

Nikolai reached out and grabbed me, pulling me through the portal. I fell to the ground, and watched as the portal shimmered, then closed. Suddenly, everything horrific stopped.

Chapter Eighteen

It was reasonably quiet in the castle. Also it definitely felt better just being out of Hell. Who would have thought?

Ragnar and Skeld stood at the back of the room, giving us space. Nikolai picked himself off the ground, then helped me to my feet. He brushed some of the dirt off himself, and I did the same, doing my best to get the yellow dust off me. It smelled terrible.

The man we’d rescued groaned. He was mostly in the same position we’d found him in. He was having trouble moving his arms.

I sighed, and sent another healing spell his way. His body pulled itself back together a bit.

“I must thank you,” he said, very softly. “Might I give you a reward?”

“Sure,” I said. “But a quick question or two first, okay?”

He reached out for me, but I stepped back.

“You opened the portal to Hell, huh?” I asked.

“I did,” the man replied. “I simply miscalculated the portal runes.”

“So you lost control of a portal to Hell and everyone in this castle paid the price?”

“An honest mistake.”

“Dude, why were you making a portal to Hell in the first place--”

“Power,” Nikolai said. “These fools always attempt to find more power, and rarely pay the price.”

“The price?” the wizard asked, rage taking over his face. “I have been tortured beyond the limits of human endurance for what seemed like ten lifetimes. How have I not paid the price?”

I pulled my dagger from my boot and shoved it up through the man’s neck.

“Enough bullshit,” I said.

* * *

GG! You’ve killed a Human (lvl 22 Arcane Archivist).

You’ve earned 2000XP! What a mighty hero you are.

* * *

Someone who’d been willing to do what he’d done wasn’t going to be giving me an actual reward. He was definitely planning on something insidious. So I figured I’d be insidious first.

* * *

You have completed a quest:

Justice for a Duchess

The Duchess MacDermott and her kin were killed by devils unleashed by a foolish wizard and she seeks vengeance on that which slaughtered her family.

Reward for success: 3000 XP and access to the royal treasury.

* * *

The ethereal figure of Duchess MacDermott appeared. She put her glowing fingers around the man’s heart, and pulled it from his body. His own ghostly body formed, healed once again. He seemed to be saying something, but the Duchess ignored him.

More and more spirits appeared around the wizard’s ghost. They all put their hands on him. For a moment, I could barely see because the glowing was so bright. The wizard’s head went back, and his mouth opened up. It was all the more horrible to see in absolute silence, but it was very clear the wizard screamed.

They tore the wizard’s essence apart in a violent explosion. Then, the spirits disappeared, and only the duchess was left.

She pointed to me, then beckoned for me to follow. We went back up the stairs, into the keep, and to a tapestry. She indicated I should pull it down, so I did.

A door.

I opened it, and revealed a set of stairs.

I wasn’t particularly keen on following any more stairs in this castle, but, well, loot.

We went down maybe three flights, and came to small room with a single door on the far wall. The door was made of metal and looked extremely solid. Its only feature was a singular keyhole smack dab in the middle.

The apparition put her finger through my pouch, prompting me to pull out the key I’d found in the hidey-hole. She pointed to the key, then the door, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Obviously it went to the door.

The key fit perfectly, and the door opened with not a single squeak. Inside was a smaller room lined with a variety of items on shelves.

Duchess MacDermott bowed her head to me, then vanished. Wisps of her ethereal glow remained behind for a heartbeat before dissipating.

She’d paid her reward.

I stepped inside the vault and looked at her riches. Now my riches. Sacks of gold. Ingots of metals. A chest of cut gems. Jewelry. A stack of scrolls. Three books.

“Salivate later,” Nikolai said. “We are short on time.”

I nodded, knowing the man was right, and motioned to Ragnar. He held out the bag, and we swept everything from the shelves into it.

“Impressive bag,” Nikolai said.

“Sorry for keeping it a secret. It’s just—”

“I understand. Just know that you need not keep secrets from me if you intend for me to be a valuable mentor.”

“Good point. So, I’ve got a bag of holding.”

He rolled his eyes, and started up the stairs.

Chapter Nineteen

The rain had started. I stood in the downpour, thanking the Gods for the chance to wash off the demon blood. The Forsaken’s corpses were deteriorating faster than I expected, already putrid and black and collapsing in on themselves. The four of us half-ran down the hill to the boathouse.

Inside, Teela and Lee were eating, using two crates as chairs and a few more stacked strategically to make a table.

Cleeve, upright for once, was going over the boat carefully.

He looked up when we stepped out of the storm.

“Success?” he asked.

“The island is safe for now,” Nikolai replied.

* * *

Huzzah! You have completed a quest:

Safe Is Secret I

You have explored the island and made it safe for Cleeve and his party.

Reward for success: 1000 XP and increased regard with Nikolai and [Unknown].

* * *

I had a number of Unknown rewards I figured should come due in the near future. Or, I realized as I stood there and watched the rain fall, they already had come due and I just hadn’t realized it.

* * *

Huzzah! Against all odds, you have reached Level 11! You receive 6 attribute points to distribute in the next 36 hours or you lose them. Dare to believe you can survive, and achieve greatness. Or don’t.

* * *

Nice, I thought. I had more points, up a level, seemed like things were—

“We need to move,” Nikolai said, breaking me out of my reverie. “We do not have time to remain here.”

“Agreed,” Cleeve said. “Yet I fear that this boat will sink if we use it in this weather.”

Nikolai sighed, angry, impatient. Still, he realized the boss was right.

Lee polished off his last bite, and then joined Cleeve at the boat, doing some minor repairs and sealing, trying to get the craft seaworthy once again.

“One of you got a dagger?” I asked Skeld and Ragnar.

Ragnar made a show of looking for one while Skeld just pulled one off his belt and handed it to me.

I used the knife to pry open one of the crates. Inside was metal. Stacks of ingots. I pulled one out and held it up.

“Anyone know what this is?” I asked.

“Metal,” Ragnar offered.

“Helpful as always. Anyone have something more specific?”

Lee came over and took the ingot. He turned it over, scratched it with his nail, hammered it on the stone floor.

“Heavy,” he said. “I would have guessed steel, but no rust. Perhaps a bit too heavy. Tungsten?”

“Stainless steel?”

“Not shiny enough and too heavy. Stainless steel has a keen luster to it. If I had to guess, it’s an alloy of something. Or a native metal I don’t know.”

He dropped it back in the crate, and went back to the boat.

I looked at it, then at all the other crates in the boathouse. There were hundreds of them.

“Ragnar,” I said.

“Bag?”

I nodded. He held the bag open, and I started grabbing crates, opening them, and dumping the contents into the bag. I was going to find the limit to the bag’s ability to hold. Or die trying. Probably die trying when the bag finally exploded.

Chapter Twenty

The rain finally eased up as the sun set, sending a glorious array of colors all across the sky.

Nikolai rallied the group, and we pulled the boat from the boathouse. With all the crates packed away, there was plenty of room to maneuver, and we got the boat in the water without much trouble. Then it was just a matter of getting our gear, our selves, and some borrowed oars into the boat.

We set sail. Or, you know, set row, heading into the sunset.

Naturally, I got volunteered for the rowing. I was a little salty about it at first, but a girl likes to be asked, you know? I also appreciated getting the exercise. After a hundred yards or so, my shoulders and back felt nice and loose, and I really started to pull on the oars, enough so I really felt like I was working. I won’t say that I got whitewater going, but we definitely had enough of a wake so you’d be able to flip some pretty good tricks. We were making good time.

Both Lutra looked over the edge of the boat into the water, and occasionally shot worried glances towards me or each other. Whatever was in the depths below didn’t seem keen to interrupt us, though I’m totally confident we were being shadowed by more than one beastie. I’d like to believe we were left alone because of my badass rowing, but it’s also possible we were left alone because all the lake monsters were busy that night. Shampooing their hair or something.

Everyone but Skeld slept at some point, while I rowed into the night. Skeld stood on the seat right behind me, keeping an eye on the water, making sure we didn’t run into anything. I used the time to peek at my attributes.

* * *

Attributes

Strength: 55

Agility: 30

Dexterity: 29

Constitution: 52

Wisdom: 23

Intelligence: 18

Charisma: 20

Luck: 27

* * *

Unassigned points: 6

* * *

I was getting up in the attributes, and I had to wonder, if 20 was an amazing athlete, and 13 was average, what the fuck was I? And where to put the points. Intelligence seemed like a good spot to slip them, just because that was my lowest stat. And yet… I hadn’t seen any measurable difference increasing my intelligence. It’d probably be very difficult for me to boost strength through working out or anything else, maybe I should get my strength up higher. But was there a point of diminishing returns? Would a strength of 60 give me anything 55 wouldn’t? This would be an ideal time to talk to someone about it, ask someone else to help me make the decision. And yet, the only person to ask was the taciturn Skeld who was busying himself with the actual work of keeping us alive and on path.

I dropped two points into Intelligence. Up to twenty. Mensa, here I come.

Three points into luck, up to thirty, a nice round number, and then a single point into Dexterity to bring that up to 30.

I didn’t feel smarter. Oh well.

* * *

Attributes

Strength: 55

Agility: 30

Dexterity: 30

Constitution: 52

Wisdom: 23

Intelligence: 20

Charisma: 20

Luck: 30

* * *

Unassigned points: 0

* * *

“Your world,” Ragnar said, his voice quiet, “was it quite different from this?”

I looked around at the boat. Skeld was standing at the bow, keeping watch. Ragnar was stretched across my pack in front of me, keeping low so as to stay out of the wind.

“Yes,” I said,“very much so.”

“Do you miss it?”

“That’s a harder question to answer,” I replied, stalling.

I laid into the oars, and tried to come up with an answer. I’d been working hard not to think about home. It was too linked to thinking about the girl. And thinking about the girl just made me hurt with how much I wanted to be wherever she was. How much I wanted to know what had happened. Why she had died. All I knew was that, for once, I hadn’t been involved in the mess. It wasn’t me. Sure, I’d been blamed and I’d paid most of the price, but I wasn’t the cause.

I wasn’t ready to go into it.

“Do you miss your home?” I asked Ragnar.

“Only been gone a day,” the Lutra replied. “And I have been waiting to leave my whole life. Why did you come here?”

“Why did you?”

“Life in Saumiers has been hard for my kind. With most of us as slaves to the agachnern, it became difficult to survive. We were mostly young pups and a few of the older generation. I was one of the lucky ones, Skeld as well — our families were intact. Even still, we were lacking good hunters and fishers. Winters were harsh, meals were few and far between, and the community of Saumiers had not been welcoming to us for a number of years. I trained for war in the day and I cleaned a tavern at night. And I heard stories from travelers. The wide wonders of the Empire. The lands beyond. I wanted to see more than Saumiers and the WarWaters. I wanted to see some of the actual world.”

“And he wanted adventure,” Skeld piped up. “He would spin the yarns he overheard. All day as we trained, I would hear of the shifting sands of the Great Erg. I would hear of dungeons full of danger and treasure. All day. Every day. Treasure and wonder. Wonder and treasure. All the world awaits us.”

“So you’re here for treasure?” I asked.

“I’m here to keep Ragnar alive.”

“But you also had to, like, join the hirð, so, uh, doesn’t that—”

“We volunteered,” Ragnar said. “It was an honor to join you.”

Skeld looked over his shoulder at me and nodded. “Whatever other reasons we had to leave Saumiers, we joined you because you are a man of honor. We are proud to be part of you.”

I blinked a few times, because I had no idea how to answer that. I’d never been on the receiving end of a genuine display of, well, respect.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

Chapter Twenty-One

As the sun rose, I found that I’d gotten into something of a fugue state. Row. Row. Row.

Skeld tapped me, and I stopped rowing. I looked where he pointed. A cloud of mist rose into the sky, and only one thing could make that happen: an absolutely massive waterfall. I realized it was already pulling us along. I spotted a speck of shoreline before the falls, giving us a tiny target to hit that wasn’t a death sentence.

Immediately I altered course, turning the boat almost completely around. I pulled, putting everything I had into it. The boat leapt into motion, shaking a few of my passengers awake and off their seats. It wasn’t enough; we were still headed the wrong way. I could only mildly alter our path. The mist rolled over us, blocking the sun. We were much too close to death.

Nikolai stood at the bow with a rope in his hands, ready to jump to shore.

Though we were still farther than I would have risked, given the strength of the currents, he leapt.

Nikolai stumbled once, then got his bearings, and looped the rope around, tying a knot quicker than a blink.

Then it was easy — we just pulled the boat in and unloaded.

I took a moment to walk along the shore and check out the falls. It was as if some great creature had ripped out a section of the cliff wall, and that’s where the water left the lake. I peered over the edge. I couldn’t really make out the bottom. It just seemed to go on forever, the water disappearing into a chasm. The river continued on in the chasm for an interminable distance, snaking around this way and that, cutting a massive gouge into the verdant land.

It was impossible to talk where we’d stopped; the falls were just too loud. Since my secret magic bag was basically not a secret anymore, I decided to try to fit my pack of goods into it. But Nikolai grabbed my hand and shook his head, making it very clear my giant back was not to go into the bag. So I got Skeld and Ragnar to help me get the trade pack onto my back, and made Ragnar carry the magic backpack.

He promptly clambered up my back and sat on top of the trade pack. He pretended he couldn’t hear me yelling for him to get off.

Then Skeld followed Ragnar.

I tried to shake them off, but they had claws. I just looked like an idiot. It’s not like they weighed much — the difference was negligible. It was more the principle of the thing, a principle I quickly threw out as I grumbled to myself and started hiking behind Lee.

The hike was strenuous, which meant I had to help Cleeve. A lot. Which meant he was pissed at me. I was totally having a ball. It wasn’t quite full-on climbing, but there were definitely spots where we had no choice but to use our hands. It was worth it though. Once we crested the cliff, I could see the world spread out before me.

It was different than anything I’d seen before, at home or in the Empire. Large rocks and boulders were strewn about vast swaths of grasslands, with occasional massive trees that were sort of like baobabs. It was looked like a savannah, but just a bit more lush. Lots of springs fed small streams that cut through the landscape, joining each other to make up brooks until they dumped into the chasm slowly heading southwest of us. I figured it was running to the Emerald Sea.

We continued on. Now it was a nice walk, slightly downhill. It was amazing not to be wearing the waders any longer. The grass smelled fresh, and everything was just so pleasant.We stopped every once in a while, and Teela would pass out something like trail mix for us to eat. Lee would complain a bit, and then we’d continue on.

As the sun dropped below the horizon and the sky darkened, Nikolai found a cliff where we could build a small fire and stretch out some canvas to make shelter. Over our tiny fire, Teela heated up some water and soaked some dried meat, making a rather vile stew-like concoction.

My hirðmen, having spent the day relaxing on my pack and likely snoozing, took the first two watches. I volunteered for the third. I missed my nighttime training sessions.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Skeld woke me for my watch, and I crawled out of bed. The little guy immediately took the warm spot I’d left, and was snoring faster than I thought possible.

The fire was little more than glowing coals.

I found my bag, pulled out my axe, and leaned it against the cliff. A little walking about, and I managed to get some branches and small bits of burnable wood. I piled them up on the coals, and got the fire going a little more.

It was very dark out, but with a little thought, I got it to light up. Actually just a tad too bright for comfort with my dark vision. It worked better in absolute dark. Still, I could see well enough to walk around. I decided to go back up to the top of the cliff, the camp almost directly below me.

To the south, I saw animals moving, large herbivores eating the grass. Slightly to the west of them, I could see the grass moving as a predator stalked its breakfast.

The air was crisp. Especially standing above our little camp, where I was fully exposed to the elements. I didn’t feel cold, per se, but the wind bit at me. The skies were mostly clear, and the stars were unbelievable. I took a moment to really feel and experiences the place, to take in this world I’d found myself in. I ran my hands over the grass, picked a small flower, and listened to insects talking to each other.

In my old life, I never actually stopped to look at nature. I was always on the hustle in some way or another. Always a million things that needed to get done: a person to find, a bone to break, money to collect. I smiled and shook my head. It was the first time I’d felt a real warmth and affection for my new life as Montana.

I forced myself to return my attention to the world around me — gotta stay present, can’t dwell on the past. Coming up from the southeast, I caught sight of the slightest bit of light. I probably wouldn’t even have noticed if I didn’t have dark-vision; it would have been lost in the distance. But when even starlight was a bit bright, the flash of a lantern looked like a fucking beacon.

Seeing someone out in the middle of the wilderness could be nothing. It could be just a happy coincidence, and we would come upon fellow travelers. And yet, it seemed like an awfully big coincidence. A coincidence made even more unlikely given that they seemed to be headed directly for our camp. I knelt down, realizing I’d been a fool to present such a massive silhouette for anyone to see. Granted, I’d mostly thought I was on the look out for beasts and monsters, not anyone intelligent.

I scrambled down the cliff, dropping the last few feet, and tiptoed through camp until I came to Nikolai.

As soon as my hand touched him, he was awake with a dagger at my throat.

“Easy boss,” I said. “We’ve got company.”

The dagger disappeared as quickly as it had come out, and Nikolai popped up.

“Show me.”

I crouched-walked him up to the top of the cliff, and pointed in the direction of the movement.

“I see nothing,” he said.

“Do you have dark-vision?”

“Night vision.”

“It’s pretty far out there,” I said, “I’m guessing half a mile or so.”

“Tell me what you see.”

“A hooded lantern. No, two. Plus five, ten figures. Humanoid. They’re walking single file, heading our direction.”

“How direct?”

“Pretty much a straight fucking line. Now they’re pausing at a tree.”

“Point to the tree.”

I extended my arm and pointed with a finger, and he laid his head on my arm so he could sight on the tree I meant.

He watched like that for a moment until the figures appeared on the other side of the tree, continuing on. There was no lantern with them this time.

“Wake your hirð. Leave the others.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ragnar went with Nikolai, circling way around to the north so they could get behind our pursuers. Skeld and I hurried south from the camp, aiming for a small stand of trees about a hundred yards south, where we could ambush the enemy if necessary.

I knelt down, and tried to keep perfectly still.

The eastern sky was lightening. There wasn’t a whole lot of time before daybreak, a point at which we’d have to get hiking again. When Cleeve, Teela, and Lee would be up and ready to go.

But nothing happened.

I was getting bored.

Antsy even.

“It will happen or not,” Skeld whispered. “No sense getting anxious.”

“That obvious?”

“You are bouncing the leaves like there are deer rutting here.”

“Sorry.”

He shrugged.

A moment later, Nikolai and Ragnar came tearing down the rise. Nikolai slid to a stop in camp, and Ragnar ran over to us.

“Big mistake,” he hissed as he approached the trees. “But we need to go.”

“What?” I asked.

“Act normal,” Ragnar said over his shoulder as he pushed passed. “Need to go.”

Nikolai woke the others up, getting everyone to their feet and explaining that it was time to move.

It took us maybe two minutes to break camp and start westward.

I walked up next to Nikolai.

“Want to explain all this?” I asked.

“More than we can handle.”

“Are you sure they’re enemies?”

“Definitely. They wear the tabard of Duke Itvars Blaus.”

“Yeah, dude, not from here. That means nothing to me.”

Nikolai nodded. “True. Remind me to school you in the court.”

“No time like the present.”

“There are many better times than when we are being pursued by those who wish us dead.”

“Cliffs Notes version?”

“What does a cliff have to do with notes?”

“Short version.”

“How does cliff mean short?”

“It’s a publisher of — ah fuck it. Just tell me what I need to know.”

“Itvars Blaus is a lazy sack of shit and a poor excuse for a man whose holding is far to the south, near the border with the Great Erg. He sits on a fortune controlling one of the major ports of the Empire. He is content with his station and lives a life of excess and privilege.”

“Okay, so—”

“These are not his men. They wear his tabard because Blaus is unconcerned with the courts. He never plays in those games, and cares little for those who do. He has his gold and his palaces. Whomever is after us, methinks ArchDuke Valamir Glaton—”

“Wait—”

“Kin to the Emperor. His younger fool of a brother.”

“I’m not following.”

Nikolai chanced a look over his shoulder. I followed his gaze. Men crested the slight hill, and definitely saw us moving along, because they immediately ducked down from the horizon. They didn’t want to be seen.

“Many want the crown. Valamir thinks it should be his. That his brother must step down and anoint Valamir as ruler. But the Emperor has a daughter, and she is next in line. Before she is crowned, Valamir must make his move. He must kill the Emperor, kill or banish the girl, and crown himself. But, should he do that, Valamir will likely find his uncle opposing him. And there are others who oppose him. Factions sit ready to rally. It is likely the foundations of the very Empire will shake should he succeed with his treachery.”

“Okay, so, Valamir Bad. Destroys the Empire. Got it. Why is there even a question of succession? Doesn’t it just go to the Emperor’s daughter?”

“She is young and impetuous and has done foolish things.”

“Haven’t we all?”

“We are not all crown princesses. She has said she plans to abdicate, that she prefers to live in luxury and not deal with the ‘horrors’ of being the ruler of the lands. No one thinks she will be a good ruler, so everyone plans for another contingency.”

“But you think otherwise?”

“I do. There is no means of knowing what being the Emperor is until you are in that position.”

“She’ll rise to the occasion?”

“That is as I believe.”

“Okay, so all that nonsense as it is, why is Valamir after us?”

“I only guess it is Valamir who sent those men. If he did, it would be because he has found out about what Cleeve has done. Many suspect the Emperor had assistance surviving the last war, and they are correct. It would not take much to connect the dots between Cleeve and the Emperor.”

“Got that, but why are they out here? How’d they find us?”

“Only one way,” Nikolai said, grim. “We have been betrayed.”

I stopped in my tracks. Nikolai kept going. I watched our small party move along past me, Cleeve looking marginally better now that we weren’t wet and cold all the time, Teela a bit haggard, Lee exhausted but determined, and my two hirðmen at the back keeping an eye on our pursuers.

Obviously it made zero sense for Cleeve to be the traitor. Why would he betray himself?

Nikolai would just kill us all himself if it were him.

My hirð only existed for, like, a week, so it’s not like it could be either be Ragnar or Skeld. Plus neither one had any connection to the Empire.

I knew it wasn’t me.

There were the other members of the caravan, the ones who were driving the wagons around the long way, but how could they have known where we were going to get out at the other end of the lake? Possible, but unlikely.

So that meant it had to be either Lee or Teela. Lee was new to the world, and I suppose he could plan on betraying Cleeve to set himself up in his new life. But that seemed really unlike Lee.

Teela, though, she was of Vuldranni. She had the connections and the means to betray us. But Cleeve and Teela had served together, and it seemed like there was a real bond between them. Could that really be torn asunder just to get money or land or power?

Chapter Twenty-Four

The men following us hung back, intent on avoiding a direct confrontation. They were probably waiting until we were sleeping, which I could understand. Nikolai was a higher level than anything I’d encountered, so I wouldn’t want to mess with him. And that wasn’t counting Cleeve. I’d seen him in action, and he was scary. Granted, he was a bit close to the death at the moment, but he’d probably be able to rally.

To the north and the west, mountains soared into the sky, massive and terrifying. To the south, there were no mountains, but a downhill slope instead, with trees and hills in the distance. Behind us were bad guys and a big lake.

Naturally, we were going west-northwest. More fucking mountains. The high plains were slowly changing, and the grasses were giving way to trees that looked a whole lot like aspens. There were a ton of them. There was enough space that we could walk through them without too much in the way of trouble. But, I realized, we’d be harder to spot as soon as we got a little deeper into the woods. My mood lifted a little.

As soon as we hit the trees, Nikolai started moving faster. He weaved us further north, and about fifteen minutes in, he broke into a light jog, and steered us almost due north. The trees stretched out as far as I could see. Birds called out all around us, and I saw plenty of small creatures darting about, living their lives. Lots of squirrels hunting nuts and weasels hunting squirrels. It was nice to see so much that was calm while if we were being chased.

Noting that Cleeve and Teela were breathing heavily, Nikolai called a break. He told everyone to kneel down and rest for a moment.

He whispered to me that I should stand guard, then disappeared into the woods. My guess, to check on our pursuers.

I got the axe out and knelt in what I presumed to be ready position. I noticed that Skeld and Ragnar spread out, positioning us in a light combat line.

The minutes passed, and Cleeve and Teela finally started to relax, breathing more regularly. The birds stopped chirping, and a heartbeat later, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Let’s move,” Nikolai said.

We started off again, heading north, weaving uphill through the trees. The ground was tilting increasingly upward, and the hike became much more intense. The trees were also growing tighter together, and finally began to deviate from being just Aspens, or whatever the local variant might be.

Nikolai called for a halt again, and Cleeve basically just dropped to the ground. He was tapped out. If we continued running the way we were, our pursuers were going to take Cleeve down without even needing to confront us.

The rest of us gathered around Teela as she doled out some food.

I noticed my two hirðmen took the proffered food, and then surreptitiously dropped it.

I got Ragnar’s attention with a raised eyebrow, but he held up one stubby finger, indicating we should wait to talk about whatever was bothering them. Skeld did a little wag of his finger, letting me know I shouldn't eat the food either.

I turned my attention back to Nikolai, but needed a way to dispose of my own food, so I wandered a bit. I noticed a bit further up the hill that there was a particularly large tree, one with massive claw marks in it.

“I think there might be something big and nasty living around here,” I whispered, pointing at the tree.

Nikolai sprang to his feet, and before no time he had his hand on the tree in question. Then he circled the area, sniffing. He took a branch and scraped something nasty off the ground, bringing it over to me.

“Dude,” I said, “that’s disgusting.”

“Probably a wyrm of sorts,” he said, “nearby.”

He sort of played with the stuff for a minute, then tossed it to the side.

“I need you to watch Cleeve,” Nikolai said. “He should be carried. I worry he may not be able to walk much longer, but he is too proud for that. Be his crutch.”

I nodded as we walked back to where the rest of our comrades sat.

“We need to move quickly,” Nikolai said, addressing our little band. “The group that is after us is large, and they are closing in on us. I have a plan, but it requires luck and speed. Take one more moment to drink water, and then we are back on the move.”

We were off, moving uphill at a quick pace, and mostly to the west. Nikolai stayed in the lead, following some sort of trail no one else could see. Often, Cleeve would slip or stumble and I’d be there, keeping him upright, helping him over branches and logs. I could tell things were really weighing on the man — he was hurting bad, sweat coming down his face in fucking sheets — and he looked like absolute shit. This didn’t look good.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Nikolai waved us to a stop. We saw a cave ahead of us. A massive hole loomed in a cliff at the top of the slope we’d been hiking on. A cave I could have just walked right into with no problem — you know, provided I was willing and able to step over a multitude of animal remains. Just bones, but there was a wide variety to choose from, including several from creatures significantly larger than me. I made out deep footprints in the mud around the cave’s entrance, from something large and six-toed. A foul odor wafted down to us, a mixture of decay, rot, and animalism.

Nikolai weaved carefully back along the group, moving with absolute silence until he got to Cleeve. He leaned in and whispered something into the older man’s ear.

I noticed there was very little noise in the forest around us. No birds, no squirrels, no animals of any kind. It was almost deafeningly quiet.

Finally, Cleeve gave a little nod.

Nikolai had a dagger in his hand immediately. I reached for my axe, but before I could even get my fingers to it, Nikolai weaved some complex pattern.

A symbol I didn’t recognize hung in the air, and then dissipated into sparkles that wafted across the space between Nikolai and Teela.

The sparkles rushed Teela and sort of glommed onto her. Her body tensed, and then she fell over.

Nikolai grabbed her arm to keep her from hitting the ground too hard or sliding down the slope. He balanced her against a tree.

He slid the dagger back into its sheath, and then pulled out a small book from a pocket hidden somewhere. It looked like a thick version of an old-school little black book. Lots of fine writing inside. He flipped through the book, muttering to himself until he found the page. Then he searched through his pockets, coming up with a small flower. He crushed it, and dusted Teela with the remains.

A purple haze came over her, and she was weirdly iridescent for a second before turning to normal.

“I am sorry to do this, Teela,” Nikolai said, “but I need to know where the tracking device is.”

She smiled at Nikolai.

“It is sewn into my corset,” she said.

“Thank you,” Nikolai replied.

“Of course.” She had a wide and genuine smile on her face, the first one I’d seen this whole trip.

While Nikolai carefully cut the corset off the woman, I watched Cleeve drink from a small red vial. Color and vitality returned to the man immediately.

Teela just leaned against the tree, not moving and still smiling to herself. Nikolai ripped her corset apart, revealing a circular gold medallion. It was about two inches across with a red jewel in the middle, and had runic markings on both sides. Nikolai only touched the metal with gloved hands, never making contact with his skin.

“You want to drop it in the bag?” I asked, thinking back to the theory that bags of holding were just portable portals to pocket dimensions.

“Thought about it,” Nikolai said, “but I have a better plan. If we drop that in the bag, there is no guarantee we won’t be tracked, but, if we give it as a gift to a, well, new friend, our pursuers will be led in a vastly different direction. Cleeve, any questions for Teela before this wears off?”

Cleeve looked at Teela with obvious hurt in his eyes.

“Why?” he asked.

Teela looked to Nikolai who nodded at her.

“You abandoned us,” Teela said. “You chose this Thingman over the Legion. And these,” she paused, searching for the word, “outsiders. You were desperate to find an heir, but you never once looked to those who you used to call a family. I knew then all your promises were lies.”

“And what were you given for your treachery?” Cleeve asked.

Again, Teela looked to Nikolai, and he nodded.

“A barony.”

“Baroness Teela Buiseid,” Cleeve said softly, “ I wish you had come to me.”

Then Cleeve nodded at Nikolai.

So much was being left unsaid. I wondered if I’d ever understand all the ins and outs of this world. Seeing how I was never allowed to ask any damned questions, it seemed unlikely.

Nikolai pulled Teela to her feet, bringing her into a kneeling position in front of the cave.

“Poppet,” he said, “I need some gold.”

“Is that me?” I asked. “Am I Poppet today?”

“Quickly now. I would prefer not to die here today.”

Ragnar was right by my side already, holding the bag open. I reached in and thought about gold coins. I got a big handful of coins, and brought them out to Nikolai.

“Down there,” he said, pointing to the ground in front of Teela. “In a pile.”

“Is this enough?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“Better to be careful. More.”

I got a second handful, and put the pile of riches in front of the woman, starting to get more than a little concerned about what was about to happen.

“Cleeve, Lee, Ragnar, Skeld,” Nikolai said, “get moving.”

After a nod from me, my hirð started hiking parallel to the cliff face.

Nikolai leaned down and whispered something into Teela’s ear. She nodded and smiled at him. He took the medallion, and, as hard as he could, threw it into the cave. Then he grabbed me and pulled me off to the side. When we got to a very dense bit of foliage, Nikolai dropped to his knees.

I followed suit.

He pulled a small pebble from a pouch, and softly muttered at it. Blue runes glowed in the air, then settled across the surface of the pebble. The small rock split into two pieces: one pointy and the other chevron-shaped. Nikolai pushed the pointy pebble in my hand.

“Hide and watch,” he said. “Catch up when you can, and report.”

He darted off into the woods in a sort of crouched run, leaving me behind before I could ask what I was supposed to be watching out for.

Chapter Twenty-Six

It wasn’t a long wait. At least not for the first event.

Noises came from the cave.

Teela didn’t seem overly concerned. She was definitely still under the sway of whatever magic Nikolai put on her. She didn’t even flinch, completely fine with whatever was making the ruckus in the cave just a few yards away from her.

The noise got louder, then quieter, then finally stopped completely.

Slowly, large fingers curled around one edge of the cave, green in color with nasty black talons on the end, leaving scars in the rocks as the hand flexed. Another massive paw pushed into the dirt in front of Teela, followed by an absolutely massive head, about the size of a Volkswagen Beetle.

A dragon!

(It had to be a dragon.)

A sinuous neck stretched from the head back into the cave, covered in green scales that stretched taut over cords of muscle. The creature had a squared-off snout and massive yellow eyes with black vertical slits for pupils. Two black horns stuck out the back of its head, growing nearly parallel with the neck.

I thought about using my identification spell, but this wasn’t something I wanted to mess with. If the dragon-thing knew I was there, I’d likely be viewed as his next meal. With a creature that size, he probably just divided the world into Food, and Not Food.

And speaking of food, Teela just sat there, staring at the creature with a stupid smile on her face.

The creature, in response, gave Teela a big sniff. Then it sniffed the gold and moved it around with a clawed finger. It looked to the left and then to the right. I don’t know if it saw me — I can only guess it didn’t. But it did look right at the clump of bushes I was in, and I did freeze completely, even holding my breath. Whatever the case, the creature seemed content with the situation, and returned his attention to Teela.

CHOMP.

One big bite, and Teela was gone.

The creature chewed a few times, which was horrifying because I got to hear all the snaps, cracks, and pops of my former comrade in arms going down. Then the big guy, or gal, licked its lips.

One massive hand scooped up the gold, and then the monster withdrew into its cave.

Not a drop of blood left behind.

I finally let my breath out, and sort of sat on my butt, in complete shock, not only at what I’d just seen, but fully realizing what Nikolai and Cleeve had done. They had killed Teela just as surely as if they’d pulled a blade across her throat. Maybe this was a better way, more humane or something, I don’t know. I mean, in a sense, they were providing lunch to a creature of the forest, which, you know, is kind of what would have happened had they killed Teela and dumped her body. Still, the brutality of this world, my home now, was challenging even to a man like me. Death and violence and savagery were just so incredibly commonplace. I hated myself for becoming complacent about violence and savagery back home. It didn’t seem like I’d escape it here either.

Watching the creature was also a great reminder of where I was on the food chain in Vuldranni — nowhere near the top. This thing was so much bigger than me that it had eaten a human with no real thought and certainly no problem. Like me when I ate a piece of beef jerky or a potato chip. I was still struggling to break free from my Earth worldview. And as I sat in those bushes, trembling a bit, I realized that unless I shifted my thinking, it was going to get me killed. Likely, over and over again.

I was so caught up in my internal monologue that I just sat there for probably twenty minutes. I cursed myself for not starting after Nikolai and Cleeve, and started hustling to get in gear. But as soon as I stood up, I slammed back to the ground.

Our pursuers had arrived.

Slowly at first, they came into view. They stopped a fair distance from the cave and formed a loose semi-circle. The men and women all wore the same tabard, but they had unique weapons and armor. It was clear they were hard people, who’d seen plenty of action. They moved with a deadly grace, and seemed unlikely to be fazed by, well, anything.

One, an older man, pointed to the cave, and said something softly to a man with a brass sword scabbard at his hip, and a pointed lack of anything else. Everyone else had their belongings on their backs, looking like they were outfitted for long-term hiking and camping. But this guy was either important or wealthy enough to have someone else carry his crap for him.

The older man and the VIP chatted for a moment, I imagine about whether we had killed whatever was in the cave, or if whatever was in the cave had killed us. The VIP nodded.

“Leave excess gear here,” the VIP barked. “Our quarry has treed itself, and we are going to strike now. It is imperative Cleeve Dye is taken alive. Though it does not matter how alive as long as he still draws breath. All the rest are to die.”

“The girl?” the old man said.

“Especially the girl,” the VIP replied, his mouth turning down into a grimace.

The soldiers dropped all their gear, and then unsheathed their melee weapons. All the ranged weapons were left behind. The soldiers loosened their muscles and tightened their armor, then formed up ranks. They moved as a unit, quietly I might add, into the cave.

I had no idea how deep the cave might be, but I couldn’t help but notice they’d left all their gear completely unguarded.

Since Ragnar was one of the lazier creatures I’d come across, he’d left the bag of holding with me, tied to my pack. I raced across to their staging area and stuffed all their gear into the bag of holding as quickly as I could. Even if the assholes did manage to survive their tussle with the dragon, they’d have no rations, no water, or bedrolls. Or changes of clothes or first aid. Or bows and arrows for hunting. Or scabbards for their swords. God, I loved loot.

I pulled out the little arrow pebble, hoping Nikolai gave it to me for an actual reason, and not just to make me look silly. That’s when I noticed the arrow pointed in a set direction. Hopefully it wasn’t just a compass. It seemed more likely it was directionally attuned to the other half of itself. I took a deep breath, assumed that was the case, and started walking, putting my trust in the magic pebble.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Given my complete lack of timekeeping devices, I wasn’t sure how long I’d been in front of the dragon’s hole, nor was I sure how long I’d wandered on my own, following the pointy pebble with absolute trust. At some point, when the sun was setting, someone grabbed me from behind, and pulled me off my path.

“Give me the pebble,” Lee said.

He threw it into the woods, seemingly at random.

“Were you followed?” Lee asked.

“No,” I said, “I don’t think so.”

He nodded, and headed back down the slope. I followed. It wasn’t a long trip, down and around a few trees that had fallen across each other. Underneath, I saw a dry space with a few bedrolls laid out.

Cleeve and crew were huddled around a small stone that was glowing white hot.

“Report?” Cleeve asked, looking far better than he had at any point I’d known him.

“Uh, some dragon ate Teela?” I said, not exactly sure what it was I was supposed to report on.

“That was a wyrm,” Nikolai countered.

“Is there a difference?”

Laughter came from everyone but Lee. He looked as confused as I was.

“Substantial,” Cleeve said. “Dragons are the pinnacle of this land. They are incredibly intelligent, devastatingly powerful, steeped in magic, and capable of taking over the world if they would just work together for once. Wyrms, they are rather stupid compared to us. Even compared to you. They mostly like eating and collecting shiny things.”

“And have no wings,” Ragnar piped up.

“Okay, yeah, I didn’t see wings,” I mused, “but it didn’t come all the way out of the cave. And it was huge. Seriously huge.”

“Wyrms can grow,” Cleeve said. “No doubt about it. But did it speak to you? Or to Teela?”

“No. The thing came out, sniffed her, looked around, then ate her. One bite. No muss, no fuss.”

“And our pursuers — you waited for them to arrive? Did they take the bait?”

“I did,” I replied, pretending I’d known that was the reason I was waiting all along. “They came, I’d say nearly forty of them. They did a quick scan around the cave, then got ready for a fight, and went in after us. Leader seemed kind of stupid. They left everything but arms and armor outside.”

“Perhaps luck will continue to be on our side, and the wyrm will feast tonight.”

“No matter what the wyrm does,” I said, feeling like I was about to drop my ace card, “they’re out there with nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I scooped up all the gear they left. It’s in my bag. So they’ve got no food, no water, no healing, nothing.”

Cleeve looked to Nikolai with a raised eyebrow, as if he was saying, See, not so dumb.

Nikolai shook his head. “Only half-smart, Poppet. You taking everything deprives them of their belongings, but they will also know we weren’t eaten by the wyrm.”

“Knowledge they would have when they did not receive any notice of my untimely demise,” Cleeve interjected.

Nikolai grunted, clearly still wanting to be angry at me. “Give me one of their packs.”

I pulled one from the bag of holding, and gave the gear to Nikolai. Then I tossed the bag of holding to Ragnar.

“I was wondering where that had gone,” Ragnar replied. “Felt so light and free without it dragging me down.”

“You forgot you tied it onto me before you left?” I asked.

“I suppose I did.”

I rolled my eyes. “Do you need me to carry it for you?”

“Would you? That would be grand.”

I snatched the bag back from my hirðman and dropped it on my bedroll, figuring it’d make a fine enough pillow.

Nikolai started pawing through the gear, and Skeld passed over a small steaming bit of meat.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Pheasant,” Skeld replied. “I think.”

I nodded, looking forward to having actual food for once. It wasn’t anything special, but I still count it among the best ever of my meals.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

We were moving before the sun was up. And fast. While we hiked, Lee took the opportunity to fill me in on what he’d learned while I’d been watching Teela get devoured.

Nikolai and Cleeve had suspected betrayal all the way back in Arenberg. Rumors reached them there, and Owen in Saumiers confirmed their suspicions. Apparently the barkeep was a retired Thingman, so he was in the know, or at least kept in a rudimentary loop. Nikolai suspected everyone except me and Lee, ‘the outlanders.’ Once we got past the lake, if anyone pursued us, it meant Teela was the one. Then, it was just a matter of finding a good spot to confront her and lose those after us.

The only downside came when Cleeve realized Teela was poisoning him to slow the group down. Apparently it was pretty awful, and Cleeve was a little worried she’d overdo it and he’d pay the ultimate price.

Now we just needed to get through the last of the wilderness before taking Osterstadt. Then everything would be fine and dandy. At least, you know, that was my working theory at the time.

I turned my attention to the conversation going on between Nikolai and Cleeve. There was something in the gear I’d stolen that implicated the Emperor’s asshole brother. And that made me worried. I had zero desire to get into politics, but since there was a very good chance I was going to be a duke in the near-ish future, I probably couldn’t stay out of it entirely. Also, you know, I was pretty fundamentally enmeshed with the Emperor’s life and death struggles. Regardless of whether or not I wanted to, I’d need to learn all the players in the game, and the game itself, really. But that didn’t make me like it. I preferred the idea of holing up in some new land, growing slowly and building up, playing the long game. It was how I played real-time strategies in the past. Build a massive defensive base, wait for my opponent to make a mistake, then crush them with overwhelming force. But was that a viable strategy in the real world? I had no idea. I suppose if we could find a spot that was easily defensible with plenty of resources, then, sure, we could tell the rest of the Empire to fuck itself. I had a feeling that was Cleeve’s plan. Just, well, other people kept getting in the way of that.

At one of our breaks, Nikolai pulled out a map, did a little talking with all of us, then ordered Ragnar up a tree. Ragnar argued that otters weren’t weasels, and therefore shouldn’t be climbing trees. Skeld got annoyed and just clambered up the tree himself. Based on the map, at least as I saw it, we were still in the midst of the woods. But I had no idea where exactly we were or what the fuck was going on.

Skeld dropped out of the tree, and stood in front of the map again.

“Here,” Skeld said, putting one claw delicately on the map.

I looked down.

We were north and east of Osterstadt, along the mountain range that formed the current upper boundary of the Empire. The Empire, in its infinite wisdom, had claimed the whole mountain range, from one side to the other. But it hadn’t bothered to do much way of mapping any of the mountains. So no one really knew anything beyond the fact that there were indeed mountains there.

“What’s over here?” I asked, pointing to the northern edge of the mountain range.

“Plains and centaurs,” Cleeve said. “Nothing good.”

“Centaurs aren’t good?”

“Not often. They love to ride around you in circles, peppering you with arrows. They have few cities, no real culture, and run away from any real conflict. They also to herd the behemoths that roam their plains into the Empire so we deal with it for them.”

“And the mountains are teeming with orcs, ursus, goblins, kobolds, and a thousand other things that dwell in the dark caves there,” Nikolai added.

“There is that as well,” Cleeve said, considering it. “I am somewhat surprised we have not encountered any so far.”

“Any what?” I asked. “That was a long list.”

“The ursus are the most civilized of anything in this area. They tend to range around and would likely be intrigued that we are here, so far from Imperial cities.”

“Are they part of the Empire?”

Cleeve seemed to take a second and really consider the question. “From the Empire’s point of view, yes. More or less. But there has been nothing formal as of yet. There were skirmishes in the past, and there are no actual clans in the Empire. From their point of view, as far as I am aware, they have taken the matter to their council, and nothing has yet been decided.”

“What are these mountains named?”

“The Empire has yet to decide.”

“But someone has, I’m sure.”

Cleeve laughed. “This land has been populated by intelligent life for thousands of years, I am confident there have been more names for these mountains than we could ever discover. I seem to recall hearing the centaurs call them the Lower Walls and the Ursus call them The Forges.”

“There are towns south of us, right?”

“It is farmland,” Nikolai confirmed. “It is a fertile delta from here to the city and the Emerald Sea. But to call them towns is a bit overly generous.”

“So—“

“There is always a reason behind what we are doing, Montana,” Cleeve said. “The game you are about to be involved in is very complicated. You must always be ahead of your opponent, or they will crush you. For we are the target for a very crowded list of villains, knaves, and bloodthirsty power-mongers.”

“I’m just so very excited to be part of your family, knowing we’re in the crosshairs of all the assholes in the Empire.”

“I understand, but if that was not the situation, there would be no need for you to be my heir.”

“The two of you calm yourselves,” Nikolai said. “We are using this trip to scout something out. See if what we paid that scoundrel Minnie Coulston a fortune in gold and platinum for actually exists.”

“Which is?”

“A route through the mountains that does not involve the high passes that are perpetually snowed under.”

“More importantly,” Cleeve offered with a giant smile across his face, “the possibility of another access point to the Emerald Sea.”

“What’s so special about this sea?” I asked. “Is it, I mean, is the fishing good? The swimming? Beaches?”

“He does not know?” Nikolai asked.

There were knowing smiles among the rest of the group.

“He does not,” Cleeve said. “And though I have yet to make any concrete orders on this journey of ours, I make my first now: no one tells him about it. I want to see his first view of the Sea.”

“Wait, what don’t I know?” I asked.

Nikolai just smiled, a remarkably rare smile. He rolled the map up, and got back to hiking.

“Guys, come on,” I said, watching everyone walk away. “I’m not moving until you tell me.”

My strike lasted about two minutes, when I heard a loud roar from somewhere deep in the woods behind me. I sprinted to catch up with the group without even thinking.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Now that Teela was gone and our pursuers were, well, otherwise occupied, I felt like I could breathe. There was a sense of relaxation, like maybe I was just out for a hike with my friends. The landscape was incredible, and I knew in my bones that I was one of the first humans to have ever walked this countryside. The trees were huge, definitely old growth. Primeval even. There were winding game trails, tiny burbling brooks, and springs coming up out of rocks. If I stopped paying attention to the insane deadline we had — which was actually easy because no clocks — I would call it idyllic.

Something bothered me though. The roar that’d gotten me moving to catch up to the group when they’d refused to tell me about the Emerald Sea. I’d heard it several more times over the course of the day. Sometimes nearer, sometimes farther away. But the way sound traveled was disconcerting, untrustworthy. Besides the trees, there were big mounds of vegetation and piles of rocks for sounds to bounce off of. All I knew was that no one else seemed to care about the noises behind us. Or, for that matter, around us.

Ragnar and Skeld foraged while we hiked, stripping bushes clear of berries and even digging up wild onions, until they had quite the haul. They’d pass out berries here and there for us to eat as a snack on the move, and then took the opportunity to rest up on my pack.

Cleeve and Nikolai held their own conversations up front, serious talk about their upcoming plans. They weren’t being overtly secretive, but it seemed like they wanted their space, so Lee and I hung back. I was thrilled to finally have a companion who was actually willing to talk to me, so spent a lot of the time asking him questions.

Lee was a smart dude, and seemed to have an answer to every question I asked — he knew the names of rocks, trees, everything. Or at least he knew the Earth equivalents. Vuldranni didn’t seem to swerve that far afield. Oaks were still oaks. Same for aspens, pines, granite, gneiss, and schist. All of it was there. Sure, there were some things he couldn’t identify, but that was stuff I could obviously see wasn’t normal. The crazy stuff, like flowers that tracked movement, or rocks that could move, albeit slowly. Moss with dotted with tiny eye stalks. Furry faces peeking out of perfect little windows in giant trees.

As the sun started to dip, Cleeve found a spot he liked, an outcropping of dark rocks, kind of like the ones I’d seen in New York in Central Park. They seemed to sprout from the ground, and the forest chose to grow in a wide circle around them. A stream came from the center, trickling out of the rocks. There was enough space in between the bigger rocks that we could put our bedrolls down, and given how high the rocks were, we’d even be able to have a fire without being seen. It was a perfect camp site.

The stream was too small for fish, but there were some bugs in the spring, big meaty critters that seemed kind of along the lines of crawdads. Ragnar gave one look at them and told us to be very careful. They were venomous, territorial, and prone to violence. Luckily though, they were reticent to leave the water, so as long as we stayed out, we’d be fine.

“How much would it hurt?” I asked.

“If it stung you?” Ragnar asked.

“Yeah.”

“Worst pain I’ve ever experienced.”

“You got stung?”

“On the butt,” Skeld piped up happily. “Sat on one, he did.”

“I did not,” Ragnar snapped back at Skeld. “That is completely false.”

“Hilde was there! She told me.”

“Hilde told you that because she liked you and wanted you to feel like I was no competition to you.”

“You were no competition to me.”

“Boys,” I said, trying to hide my smile, happy that their personalities were continuing to come out, “let’s just agree that this was a good warning, and no one should sit in the spring.”

We cooked the onions and some greens into a soup of sorts. It was phenomenal to have something hot to eat the second night in a row. Back home, it’d been rare for me to miss a meal, certainly not during my last few years. And even more of a luxury — it’d always been hot food. More fast food than I’d care to admit, but still, hot. Salty and delicious, in its own disgusting way. And yet here, in this new land, the food was infinitely more scarce and a good deal simpler. But man it was unbelievably better tasting.

I settled down in between a rock and the fire, so I got heat from both sides. During the day, it was temperate, very pleasant to walk around, but as soon as the sun went down, the temperature plummeted. I never felt like I was in danger of dying from exposure or anything like that — it was more just a lack of comfort.

“Montana,” Cleeve called out, “first watch.”

So much for comfort.

Chapter Thirty

I clambered up the rocks until I found a good spot to sit, where I could see the camp and its surrounding area. Fireflies blipped on and off for my own private little light show. Bats swooped in and around, eating the bugs before they could get near me. The fire crackled and popped, and sparks shot up into the air.

With a sigh, I hopped down from the rock and did a loop around the clearing, picking up some wood here and there for the fire. I tossed a log on and continued around, cleaning all the dead wood off the ground until I had enough to make a stack.

Snores came from the group.

I ran through a few ideas, wondering how best to spend my down time. I didn’t feel like any more large weapon throwing. I decided to find a dagger, and while I searched in my bag, I realized something a little sad — all the fireflies had gone away. Which was a bit surprising, because I kind of thought the little buggers would go all night long.

Then I realized another small detail: the night was quiet. The bugs that had been chirping away were now silent, and I couldn’t hear any of the creatures doing their thing out in the trees. Everything was very still.

Keeping my eyes on the dark forest, I took a few tentative steps backward until I bumped a boulder.

I could feel something watching me.

My axe was in my hands nearly instantly.

I turned it around a few times until I got a grip I liked, and then pushed my eyes into dark-vision so I could see.

Nothing was there.

Well, nothing I could see, but I could definitely feel something.

The problem with our perfect camp was that the rocky outcropping blocked more than half the fucking woods. I scrambled up to the top, still gripping the axe.

I scanned the woods.

Something huge was moving through the trees, big enough that I couldn’t place what it was. But it moved with enough grace that not a single branch broke.

Then I saw its eyes staring at me.

Big, dinner-plate-sized eyes. Bright. Its eye-shine was super apparent in the dark-vision.

It blinked.

“Guys,” I said. “There’s something—”

It hit me like a fucking freight train, uncoiling and striking in a heartbeat. I had no idea how it had crossed that distance so fast. The creature’s head slammed into my body, and there were definitely pops and cracks as several somethings inside me snapped.

I flew across the clearing, shouting unintelligible curses to the party below me. I landed in a pine tree, its thick boughs doing a great job of slowing me down and keeping me from breaking my back against the trunk. They did a terrible job of catching me though, so I fell out of the tree. But the 20-foot fall wasn’t that bad. The ground was full of pine needles, so it was almost like landing on a mattress. A prickly, nice smelling mattress.

The creature used two massive claws to grip the rocky outcropping. It loomed up and over so that it was looking down on the camp. The firelight illuminated its absolutely massive head, and the ropes of saliva stretching down towards the Lutra.

My hirðmen were still waking up. Most everyone was.

I shot an identification spell over:

* * *

Forest Wyrm

Level ??? Beast

* * *

The wyrm. Great.

I glanced around for something to distract the wyrm with before it devoured my buddies. My axe was nowhere to be seen, but I spotted a large rock to my right. I scooped it up and threw it as hard as I could.

It tumbled through the air, and booped off the beast’s snoot.

The wyrm shook its head in surprise, and then glared at me.

So I grabbed another rock. And another. I threw rocks as hard and fast as I could, a cavalcade of stones raining down from the heavens, all with some measure of accuracy and hitting the worm’s face. With a target that size, it wasn’t particularly challenging to hit it. It was the size of a small barn, so I was quite literally hitting the broadside of a barn with my rock barrage. I don’t think it did any damage, but it definitely pissed the fuck out of the wyrm. He reared back and gave a mighty roar in my direction, so powerful I could feel my skin ripple from the sound-wave. My beard got plastered to my body in a sickening slime of wyrm saliva.

The distraction was enough for Nikolai to get to his feet. He shouted a challenge at the wyrm, and his blade seemed to glow for a second before erupting in brilliant flames. He swung the sword, but the wyrm pushed back, its impossibly long neck arcing way up until it was well out of Nikolai’s reach.

I ran back to the group, out of rocks and in need of a weapon.

The wyrm held himself back, out of reach, watching us.

Cleeve had his sword out, and stood ready. Both Skeld and Ragnar had their spears, and were on either side of me. Lee, for his part, was hiding under his bedroll, tucked up against a rock.

I ripped open the bag of holding, then pulled a spear I’d liberated from the castle in the lake out of the bag.

The creature let out a snort of excitement, its eyes opening wide.

“Give me the spear,” Nikolai said, sheathing his sword.

I tossed the spear to Nikolai, and he snatched it from the air. Immediately, purple tendrils rushed over the spear, disappearing inside the wood and metal. The weapon seemed to ripple, and then it changed. The wood got darker and longer. The spear head undulated, elongated, then got thicker in all dimensions. It became a completely different weapon, one that was much meaner looking.

Nikolai hauled back, and with perfect form, he launched the spear.

The weapon flew true, smashing into the wyrm’s neck. It knocked some scales off, but not much else. It certainly didn’t stick into the creature. There was no blood.

The wyrm roared, then pushed off the rock into the darkness.

“Was that it?” Lee asked.

“No,” Cleeve said. “We face a stubborn opponent.”

“He is intelligent for a beast,” Nikolai said, eyes scanning the darkness. “He will watch us, gauge our abilities. He may attack again, he may not. It is possible he determines we are too much trouble—”

“He saw the bag,” Ragnar interrupted.

“Then he will be back,” Nikolai said. “He will not leave a magic item such as that behind. The wyrm will be determined to haveWater-breathing it for his hoard.”

Silence reigned.

Nikolai and Cleeve stood with their backs to the fire. They both had swords out and ready.

“Is this a creature we can kill?” I asked.

“It will be either him or us.”

“Great.”

I put the bag securely on my person, making sure it wasn’t just going to fall off, and then I climbed to the top of the rock. I pulled out two weapons: first, the Mammoth-Greatsword.

* * *

Mammoth-Greatsword

Item Type: Uncommon

Item Class: Two-handed Melee

Material: Steel

Damage: 80-120 (Slashing)

Durability: 80/80

Weight: 52 lbs

Requirements: Str 30

Description: Built by giants, for giants, the mammoth sword is used for the hunting and killing of mammoths. Some fools use them as ostentatious decorations, but none but giants ever wield them in combat. Even among giants, they are often seen as ridiculous.

* * *

The other, the small obsidian dagger I’d liberated from the goblins.

* * *

Goblin Sacrificial Dagger

Item Type: Common

Item Class: One-handed dagger

Material: Obsidian

Damage: 21-25 (Slashing)

Durability: 8/25

Weight: 1 lb.

Requirements: none

Description: An unbelievably sharp blade used for ceremonial sacrifices to Goblin Gods, Spirits, Shades, Chiefs, Bosses, or Chefs.

* * *

I did my best to hide the dagger in my belt, and then struck a pose with the mammoth greatsword over my shoulder.

“Piddly wyrm,” I shouted into the darkness. “Hiding because he’s so scared. Why don’t you tuck your ugly tail under you and run back to your little cave?”

“What are you doing?” Cleeve hissed from below.

A bellow came from the woods, followed quickly by the cracking of wood. The wyrm pushed some trees over, and stood there for a heartbeat before roaring.

I screamed back at him. Not quite as impressive. Despite my strength, I just didn’t have the lung power.

What I had was a stupid plan that I’d seen work in a tabletop RPG I watched once.

I gave the giant sword a lazy swing around, doing my best impression of someone who wasn’t actually strong enough to wield the giant weapon. I needed to make sure the wyrm was pissed off and overconfident.

“Come and fight me, you coward!” I yelled.

The wyrm launched itself at me, his giant talons swiping across, sending the sword pinwheeling into the woods. Then, as expected, he opened his mouth wide, and came crashing down on me.

Chapter Thirty-One

I jumped right in, snaking the dagger with one hand, and grabbing a handful of flesh with the other. Immediate downside: the smell. It was fetid, hot, and disgusting in there. An unreal malodorous combination forced its way down my throat much the same way I forced my way down the wyrm’s throat.

I think he just thought I was stupid (maybe he was right), so he just swallowed, forcing me out of his mouth and into his esophagus. I was pleased to find that wyrm physiology isn’t completely alien, but I knew getting to his stomach was going to be a world of hurt. The muscles in the wyrm’s throat were strong as fuck, and they were crushing me. Also, not much in the way of air. That was something I hadn’t thought of. Another check in the stupid column for that. I still wore the Ring of Water-breathing I’d snagged back in my fight with the Agachnern, and I wondered how specific the water portion of the ring’s title was. I took a tentative breath…

Score one for magic. It was horrible tasting, but there was enough oxygen in whatever I was breathing to keep me going.

Struggling back and forth, I managed to get my hand around the dagger, and move it out ever so slightly so that it scraped along the creature’s esophageal lining. The wyrm stopped moving, and I stopped going down. With both hands, I pulled the dagger towards my face, slicing all along the way. I’d thought the wyrm’s breath smelled bad, but it was nothing compared to whatever foul things made up the creature’s viscera. I gagged and threw up. Which, you know, was great in a sort of long term killing the creature through infection way, but wasn’t going to do much in the short term. Then the dagger must’ve reached zero on its durability, because it snapped apart in my hand.

The wyrm was running, or moving at speed, going crazy as it attempted to dislodge me. I was getting really dizzy, what with being upside down and moving in pretty close to absolute darkness. Which is when I had the brilliant idea to engage dark-vision. I couldn’t see much beyond wet muscle and dark blood. But at least I was seeing something.

I got an arm into the hole, out of the esophagus and into the, well, flesh of the wyrm’s neck.

He reacted by trying to throw me back up. I figured that was a sign I was doing what I needed to. so I doubled down, grabbing onto a ligament (tendon?) with one hand, and a flap of throat muscle with the other. I held on with all my strength.

A second later, I got to experience a new level in disgusting when I got to see Teela again. Well, pieces of her. In various states of decay. Also, some other creatures of the forest. And some rocks. And wood. And something that had to be poop of some kind. Plus, you know, wyrm stomach acid.

My face burned. Excruciating pain erupted across my whole body as the wyrm’s stomach contents washed over me, around me, and, to an extent, through me. But as the last bits of bile were expunged, I was still there, arms outstretched, white knuckling my grip points.

Light came from down near my feet, and I had the sneaking suspicion the wyrm was reaching down its throat to pull me out.

I used the quick pause in throat action to reach a hand into the bag of holding. I sent a thought for a carpet. Boom, it was in my hand. I hauled it hard against the throat, which was trying to swallow again, or move or push. The carpet protected me from the taloned fingers, and sure enough, the fingers of the beast crushed around the carpet and ripped it free.

Next he started slamming his neck against something hard. I had a feeling my time inside this new friend was going to be rather limited.

Back into the bag, I got another dagger out and started cutting. I sawed away at the flesh while the wyrm flailed around, making the hole bigger and deeper until I found what I was looking for: an artery. Blood thumped along, the vessel as thick around as my leg. In a sense, it was awe-inspiring to see the massive vessel. It made me feel small, insignificant. But little ol’ me had a sharp knife, and the flesh gave way under the steel. As soon as I made a puncture, the intense pressure tore the tiny hole wide open, and blood gushed everywhere.

The wyrm started shaking, making awful noises before finally coming to a stillness after a minute or so. Even a big creature like that can’t last too long without blood going to the brain.

I tried to crawl back, but the weight of wyrm collapsed on me, and I just couldn’t get enough leverage to push any of the flesh out of my way. I had to take an alternative route out. I used the dagger to cut and saw until I finally punched through the scales from the inside. My arm felt cold air. With a little work, I slipped my other arm through to the outside, and I then I pulled the fucking wyrm’s throat wide open. The scales popped off as I tore through. Finally, I wriggled free. My hands scrambled for purchase on his scales, but I was covered in wyrm narstiness, and thus had absolutely zero traction. So I slid, unceremoniously, down the creature until I finally came to a stop in a gross pile on top of some pine needles.

Blood cascaded down the wyrm, pouring out of the hole I’d made and leaking out of his mouth.

I laid there, taking in gulping lungfuls of breath, my body steaming in the cold air. Pain was everywhere, not only from the acid burns over most of my body, but also from all my internals getting crushed by the wyrm’s muscles.

The great beast’s lifeless eyes stared at me, and I felt a hint of sadness. Dude was just doing what he was doing. Just living his life. Granted, he’d come after me — I’d never done a damn thing to him until he attacked me. I was totally justified in doing what I’d done, but I didn’t feel good about it. And then there was the notification.

* * *

GG! You’ve killed a Forest Wyrm (lvl 32 Beast).

You’ve earned 5000 XP! What a mighty hero you are.

* * *

My body was already knitting itself together. I realized I could close my eyes again, which was nice. Not so nice: realizing my eyelids had been burned away. That was pretty gross. My hair was reasonably intact, and, thank the gods, my beard was fine. Don’t know how, don’t know why, wasn’t going to question it.

I did my best to wipe the grunge and grime off, but I was pretty much a lost cause.

I was way out in the forest, with no idea where the camp might be or what direction, well, anything was. There was a muffled glow coming off the scales, which was the indication the world gave me they were useful in some capacity, so I started gathering the scales. I wasn’t going to move, guessing that the rest of the group would be able to track me a whole lot better than I could find them. After removing basically all the green scales on the massive creature, I moved onto pulling out the teeth, then gathering the other bits and bobs of the wyrm. I figured it all had to have a use in some capacity, and, more importantly, it gave me something to focus on so I could ignore the exquisite pain of my body’s repair.

Somewhere close to sunrise, I heard Nikolai shouting for me.

“MONTANA!” came the cry.

“Yo!” I shouted back.

Nikolai climbed over the body of the wyrm and looked down on me. He nodded a little, perhaps surprised, perhaps pleased. It was always impossible to tell.

“Not a good idea to run away like that,” he said, finally. “And you need a bath.”

Then he started walking away.

“A thank you or something?” I shouted back at him.

Chapter Thirty-Two

It took most of the day before we found a spot suitable for an actual bath. The armor I had was pretty well destroyed, as were all my clothes, except for the seal pants. Luckily because of my bag, that just meant I had a mostly new outfit on after my bath.

We continued on, just putting one foot in front of the other. Every once in a while, we’d come across the tracks of a big creature. Now we gave them a much wider berth.

We gratefully settled into a routine as a group. We’d have a small breakfast of grains and other rations I’d liberated from Teela’s friends, and then head out. Ragnar and Skeld (mainly Skeld) would range about collecting nuts and berries for our midday stop. Then we’d get going again, upslope, skirting the edge of the real mountains. On good days, we’d find a game trail, and the walking would be easy. Bad days were down in the valleys clogged with overgrowth, and I’d have to take the front, chopping a path through everything.

I was back to learning as much about Vuldranni as I could. It was a little awkward having to ask Cleeve what it meant to be an elf, but I did it. He pointed out that he was merely part elf, and had some human ancestry in him as well. Most of the races were pretty closely aligned with traditional fantasy notions. Dwarves had long been fully underground, and had only emerged recently, coming up from underground kingdoms and caverns to join the larger society. Elves, similarly, had been of the forests. Notably, though, they’d been on a different continent than the one we were on currently, somewhere farther east. Much farther. Enough that Cleeve had no notion of where that might be.

Across the world, there were plenty of sentient animals, as well as humanoid-animal hybrids — minotaurs, centaurs, that sort of thing. There were such a broad range of races that it was actually hard to talk about them all. There were even races that existed primarily in legend. And the unknown ones, like me. Some of the more savage ones tended to stay in racial groups, like orcs. Some, like kobolds or goblins, often sought other, more powerful beings to serve. There were kingdoms that were racist and kingdoms that were not. It was a massive world, and Cleeve was pretty honest when he said he didn’t know that much about the world overall. He’d never left the Empire.

As to the centaurs, they were well known because the Empire fought them on the regular to the north and east of Saumiers. The plains the centaurs claimed butted up against the hills and other bits of the Empire, and there were constant squabbles over where the exact property line was. And regardless, the centaurs constantly raided the border towns, moving fast because they were half fucking horses. They were quite fond of burning things down, trampling people, and racing away. Usually far enough that chasing them down would be an exercise in futility. Listening to Cleeve talk about facing the centaurs in the field, they sounded like they were the perfect Mongol Horde. Fast and mobile, skilled with the bow, happy to pillage.

The orcs were also troublesome. Savage and filled with hate for seemingly everything, they seemed only to exist for war and fighting. They were still in the mountains, but constant pressure from the Legions had driven the orc clans back into the depths from whence they came in the first place.

In terms of where we were headed, Osterstadt had been a free city for a long time. It was the only way to get what was in the Emerald Sea out to the rest of the Empire and beyond. They didn’t want to expand beyond their valley, mostly because one of the downsides of being directly on the Emerald Sea were the monsters. Nightmarish beasts would constantly crawl out of the depths and wage war on Osterstadt and its inhabitants. Well, not war per se. More like wanton destruction. So despite a steady income, the city wasn’t able to grow because it could never spare any resources. As said monsters increased in frequency — and, occasionally, ferocity — they began to overwhelm the city’s defenses.

That’s when the leaders reached out to the Empire, and the Glatonese gladly welcomed Osterstadt into the fold, sending three Legions to assist and pacify the region. This, obviously, led to conflict with some of the groups who hadn’t been party to the Imperial Acquisition. Hence the skirmishes with the Ursus, who, I suppose, were a tribe of people who just preferred to live in the mountains on their own.

But that didn’t really gel with the whole Empire state of mind, and there’d been skirmishes on and off. Things seemed to have settled down in the last few years, and there was even talk of a formal meeting between all the Ursus tribes, and maybe even joining the Empire all out.

In the evenings, when we set up camp, I’d spar with Nikolai or Cleeve while Lee and the Lutra made dinner. Then I’d spend time after dinner working with Lee. He was helping me develop non-combat skills, since pulling the dukedom out of the wilderness was going to be an all-hands-on deck sort of thing.

First, we did basic crafting. Carving wood and bone into shapes, knapping out obsidian blades, tying knots. The skills were coming onto my character sheet hot and heavy.

* * *

Cool Beans, you’ve learned the skill Carving. With a bit of work, you can take wood, bone, or stone and make it look like something else. Watch out Flea Market, here you come! +5% skill. +1% value.

* * *

Cool Beans, you’ve learned the skill Crafting. With a bit of work, you can combine wood, stone, metal, whatever you get your hands on with other objects and make useful items. Watch out Flea Market, here you come! +5% skill. +1% value.

* * *

And so on. I was carving wooden rings in no time, even getting small stones, some valuable and some not, into them. I spent two evenings making rather beautiful dream catchers, if I do say so myself. And at the start of the second week, Lee guided me through putting several skills together, carving out something that looked like a huge cricket bat, then knapping a bunch of small obsidian blades, and, finally, attaching the blades to the outside edge of the cricket bat.

* * *

Well look at that, you have crafted your first actual, non-improvised, weapon. +150 XP!

* * *

You have made a Macuahuitl

Macuahuitl

Item Type: Trash

Item Class: One-handed Melee, Two-handed Melee

Material: Wood, Obsidian

Damage: 10-20 (Slashing), 12-18 (Bludgeoning)

Durability: 1010

Weight: 6.8 lbs

Requirements: Str 9

Description: A flat wooden club with obsidian blades around the edge.

* * *

Cool Beans, you’ve learned the skill Wooden Weapon-Making. Now you can make clubs, staffs, staves, and other wooden weapons, provided you’ve got the blueprint for them, or you’ve been taught how to make them. +3% dmg, +3% durability.

* * *

Apparently, that meant I was ready for the next set of lessons, which was when we started hiking closer to more rocks. It was geology or botany, all day, every day. Granite over to the left, poison ivy to the right. Schist all over the place.

On the fourth day of the second week past the lake, we came to a river. Nikolai called a halt well before dark. We’d reached our destination.

Chapter Thirty-Three

The river cut through a cliff above us. Maybe something that had been a waterfall at one point in the past, but was now more along the lines of a whitewater tumble down a steep gradient. The mountains, otherwise, were straight and tall, soaring skyward, very cliff-like. The river had no banks as it went through the mountains, and there was nothing living there. Just rocks. Where we were, though, was thick with trees — tall pines and redwoods — with little in the way of undergrowth beyond big ferns. A lot of rock lined the riverbanks, but there were occasional sandy spots as well. In many ways, it was like a miniature version of the river that left the WarWater lake, cutting into the ground.

Nikolai told us to make camp, and also to wait. He and Cleeve walked off, and though I was curious where they were going, I was also eager to get camp set up and to take a moment or ten to relax in the daylight hours. I had no idea where they went.

The hirð boys and I did a quick scout about the immediate area, trying to pinpoint obvious dangers. We chose a camp site right above the river. At some point in the very recent past, the ground had largely collapsed, so there was a wall of rock that made a nice windbreak with decent cover. With a little work, we had a lean-to set up with a thick layer of pine boughs to lay on. It felt almost luxurious.

With little else to do, I tore off all my armor and clothes and dove right into the river.

Mild mistake — it was ridiculously cold. The river was crystal clear, a deep intense blue, and tasted fresh. At least, you know, the little bit of water I got in my mouth at that point. It moved quite quickly, and there was a singular deep spot carved out of a rock by an eddy just twenty or so yards down from where we were camping. Really, the only downside to the river was the temperature. I kept thinking I was going to get used to it, but it was continually frigid, almost painful. And yet, it was very necessary. One thing I never really saw in fantasy books, certainly the ones I read, was that on long trips through the wilderness, you stink. Day after day, wearing the same armor, all sweaty, sitting around smokey campfires. You really started to smell. And that’s not counting fighting. Add in fighting, and you’ve got random blood and mystery fluids all over you, things like piss, shit, and vomit, all things I’d seen far too much of on battlefields in this new world of mine. So I swam down to the bottom, got some handfuls of sand, and scrubbed myself.

Lee stripped down and joined me for a quick dip.

Skeld and Ragnar went crazy in the water. They shucked off their armor and clothes and swam about with wild abandon, going deep and bringing stuff up from the bottom of the river. Pretty soon, we had a small fire going with a pot of water full of crawfish. A hot lunch. A rarity in our lives, and I was going to make the best of it.

I don’t know what spices the hirð boys made the broth of, nor where they found them, but it tasted delicious. The four of us were full and happy, naked in the midday sun. I closed my eyes to relax, but elected to just have my head out on a gently sloping rock, keeping the rest of my body submerged. A bit of a personal challenge to see how long I’d be able to stay under the water.

Until I heard the not-so-subtle sound of someone clearing their throat.

I opened my eyes to see two young women and one young man standing on the other side of the river. One woman had dark auburn hair, and the other mousey brown. Auburn and the man were both very posh looking, their clothes full of finery and lace. They didn’t have a whole lot of gear with them, so I couldn’t imagine they were tramping through the wilderness. The posh ones had some similarity in their faces, so I suspected brother and sister. Brother had a small sword at his side.

He struck a manly pose.

“Ahoy,” he said, his voice the sort of grating nasal that made me immediately and irrationally angry, “you there, ruffian.”

“Me?” I asked. “Ruffian?”

“You speak the language, grand. Do be a dear and tell me what you think you are doing?”

“Here? Sunning myself after having a bit of a swim.”

“I say, swimming! How quaint.”

The guy was rankling me. I really wanted to swim over and pull the twit in.

“I suppose that is why I cannot smell you,” he continued.

“Maybe that’s why I can smell you,” I replied. “Hint, it’s not a good smell.”

“You insolent cur! You dare speak to me that way?”

“Uh, yeah, I do. I dare. Maybe you should take your sister, and, what, her lady-in-waiting, and mosey back into the woods from whence you came.”

“You know she is my sister? Either you are familiar with my family and stupid to be so insolent, or you are a magic user and must pay for your crimes.”

“Neither, dickburger. I just used my fucking eyes.”

“I do say a cur like you needs to be taught a lesson in civility.”

“Really?” I asked, looking at the man’s lithe frame, then purposefully looking down at the hardened slab of muscle I’d become. “You really want to do this?”

“Yes,” Brother said. “It needs doing.”

I shook my head, and climbed out of the water, standing on the stone, naked.

Brother’s eyes went wide, and I just smiled. I don’t think he’d taken the time to figure out how big of a dude I was. Now that he had, he didn’t seem quite as cocky. Just to show how much I didn’t consider the asswipe a threat, I turned my back to him and walked over to my bag. I pulled out some clean clothes, and got them on. Then my armor, but just the basic leather stuff. And to complete my evening look, I grabbed the big ol’ battle axe from the lean to. It wasn’t a subtle weapon, but I had a feeling the time for subtlety was over.

Walking back to the river, I gave the axe a few swings to loosen my shoulder up. The axe head made a crisp whooshing noise as it cut the air.

“My brother is backing out of this,” the sister said, stepping in front of the young man, who was trembling just a bit. “He did not realize you were a brigand.”

“Oh, I’m not a brigand,” I said. “Or a bandit. Or a highwayman or any particular synonym you want to toss out that might mean criminal.”

“You are a warrior, are you not?”

“I am.”

“Who is your master?”

“Me.”

“You fight for yourself then?”

“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it, sure.”

“Then how are you not a brigand?”

“Isn’t stealing a major part of being a brigand? I don’t steal. From anyone. Rather large distinguishing point.”

I looked behind me, realizing I hadn’t seen either of my hirðmen or Lee in a while. I started to wonder where the rest of my crew had slunk off to.

“If you will forgive my brother for being so impertinent,” Auburn said, “I would appreciate it.”

“Fine by me,” I said.

“Then I will do a favor for you in kind. Our father will control this land soon, so I will keep you in mind when he looks to staff his militia. Should you like to have an actual master.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Your name, then.”

“Yours first, if you don’t mind.”

“Lady Eliza Northwoods.”

“Montana,” I said, then immediately remembered I had a last name now. “Montana Coggeshall.”

“Coggeshall, is it?” Lady Eliza Northwoods said. “I will remember it.”

“Hope you do,” I replied.

They walked off like they all had sticks high in their asses, heading downriver. I was certainly curious where they were going.

I was about to yell for my hirðmen when they popped out of the bushes on the other side of the river, spears at the ready.

“We were waiting to see if you wanted us to scare them,” Ragnar said.

“Thanks, boys,” I replied.

The Lutra offered to take the first two watches, and Lee snagged the third. I’d actually get to sleep all night long. If I could.

Chapter Thirty-Four

I couldn’t. For everything I’d gained coming to this new land, becoming powerful, I’d also lost the ability to sleep. Something which hand’t exactly been a problem for me in the past.

Nikolai and Cleeve came back down the river sometime while Skeld was on watch. All I know is that when I woke up, everyone was there. All of them were asleep, save Lee, who was on the third watch and struggling to remain awake.

I offered to take over his watch, and Lee was more than willing to zonk out for a few extra hours. Looking out at the river, watching it go by, the fire smoldering behind me, I just absorbed the world around me. There were still a few hours to go before the sun rose, but life was already active. Bugs zipped just above the water, a few birds sang their morning songs, and, on occasion, fish burbled.

Perfection.

I pulled the bag of holding open, reached in, and thought of my fishing gear.

The rod and whatnot came to my hand, and I took a moment to look over it. I was pleasantly surprised to see it wasn’t quite as basic as I’d feared. The line wasn’t monofilament, but it was thin, and it felt strong. There was only a super basic reel, but the rod itself was made out of bamboo. Very strong, very flexible, and looking like it’d do the trick.

I dug a hole near the river bank and found a healthy variety of worms. A bit of rock stacking, and I had a seat. I was ready to go.

There’s a special sort of peace that comes over me while fishing. A particular joy in the art of it, in the singular focus and the attempt to overcome nature. The ability to feed yourself. The act and art of self-sufficiency. It was my favorite part of being a Boy Scout, the thing I’d most look forward to on the camping trips. Well, that and playing D&D with the other Scouts. I learned how to fish from one of the only people I wished I’d kept in contact with, an older Scout who took me under his wing when I’d been in Cub Scouts. He taught me how to fish. We wouldn’t really talk about anything; we’d just fish. I loved the pleasing constant of sitting by the shore with him. It was something I carried with me through my life — when everything else in the world was falling down around me, I could grab a rod, and I could sit and fish. I could have a victory, bending the smallest slice of the world to my will.

Every once in a while, I had to get up and do a walk around camp, make sure there was nothing nasty sneaking up on us. But it certainly seemed like we’d finally found a place that was more calm than calamitous.

As soon as the first bite hit on the bait and I snagged a fish, I got a notification.

* * *

Cool Beans, you’ve uncovered the innate skill Fishing (lvl 9). You can attempt to catch things in the water. -9% stamina drain. +9% value.

* * *

I wondered if an innate skill was just always 4 levels, because I knew I had the five extra levels because of Eona. Probably, but actually figuring that out right now wasn’t worth the brain time. Instead, I thought about the one bonus I hadn’t spent yet, the 10 skill levels for hitting two Choices in a single day. There hadn’t been any time limit set, so I figured I had some time. And it didn’t seem prudent to use that bonus while I had all these new skills popping up. I should save it until I wanted to progress from, like, level 90 to 100.

I was handy with the rod, and the river was generous. By the time the others woke, I’d caught eight fat trout and had them cooking over the fire.

Nikolai gave me a slightly raised eyebrow, and a nod.

Cleeve just dug in, eating voraciously.

“Find what you were looking for?” I asked, feeling a little smug that everyone was enjoying the fruits of my labor.

“We did,” Cleeve said through a full mouth. “Better than we could have hoped.”

“Montana made friends,” Lee said.

“Oh?” Cleeve asked, eyebrows going up.

“Some dandy fuck nugget was over there with his sister. He did a whole host of talking down to me, and then challenged me to a fight.”

“I see you won,” Cleeve replied, seemingly unconcerned with anything that might or might not have happened.

“No fight, actually,” I said. “The sis asked me to let it go, so I did.”

“Did you get his name?”

“Got the sister’s name. Eliza Northwoods. Only real reason to bring this up,” I said, “is that she thought her father was going to control this land, not you.”

Cleeve jumped to his feet.

“Time to move,” he said.

Nikolai barked out orders. We tore the camp apart and were across the river before the fish stopped steaming.

Once across, we sped up to a light jog, going mostly downhill.

It wasn’t particularly long until we found a large clearing that was dominated by colorful tents, lots of men-at-arms and plenty of cooking fires. It almost looked like someone was out on campaign.

The soldiers, at least the ones I saw, wore a green tabard with a white tree on it.

“Northwoods,” Cleeve hissed.

We didn’t stop moving, just zipped by through the woods. But seeing the wagons, we knew there had to be a road nearby. It only took a small amount of searching before we found it. Then we were able to nearly double our speed.

By midday, Lee had to request a break. He looked haggard and exhausted. Nikolai opened his pack, pulled out a stout green bottle, and passed it over to Cleeve. Cleeve drank a few gulps, and then passed it to Lee. Lee finished off the bottle. The color returned to his face, his breathing slowed, and he looked a million times better.

“Is that a stamina potion?” I asked.

Nikolai nodded. “It is. Do you have need of one?”

“No, I just wasn’t sure they existed. What about health potions?”

“Also mana potions.”

“Why don’t we have, like, tons of them?”

“They are very expensive,” Nikolai said, “but we have some. Do you need one?”

“No, but, I mean, why didn’t anyone tell me about them?”

“You never asked.”

I tried to think of a response, but the man had me there. No one had given me a health potion, so I just assumed they didn’t exist.

After another minute or two, we were running again, moving through the woods on the new road.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Somewhere in mid-afternoon, a few hours after we’d switched from jogging to hiking, a group of masked figures leapt from the woods, brandishing weapons.

Instantly, Cleeve and Nikolai had their swords out. Ragnar and Skeld had their spears aimed at the men behind us, and Lee and I stood like idiots in the middle.

I pulled the axe out of my bag, and I heard one of the ruffians exclaim in surprise.

“Magic!”

“Gods dammit,” Nikolai shouted, “you think you can avoid doing shit like that when someone is trying to rob us?”

“Good note,” I said. “I’ll make sure of that from now on.”

“Now,” Cleeve said, “is there something we can help you with, gentlemen?”

“I think we can help with the heavy bag that big idiot has there,” one of the masked men replied.

“Big idiot?” I asked. “Really? You barely know me.”

“Not the time for banter,” Nikolai said.

“Oh I disagree,” Cleeve said, “perfect time for banter, right gents?”

“What does banter mean?” Mask One asked.

“Means we have a little talk, and then either go our separate ways peacefully, or, ’tis your last little conversation.”

“Not sure you can count, oh mighty lord, but you are greatly outnumbered.”

I took in the situation, and did a bit of counting on my own. Five of us who were armed and one non-combatant. Twelve of them. That I could see. If they were smart, some of their number would be out of sight, either as melee backup, or even better, as ranged fighters.

“Yes,” Cleeve said, “I can understand why you might think you have an advantage. But I do not believe you know what kind of trouble we would cause.”

I did a quick bit of magic and fired off my only useful spell, seeing who I could identify.

The nearest masked figure, tall with a bit of a paunch and a sword spotted with rust came back:

* * *

Human (Lvl 12 Ruffian)

* * *

Going around the circle, I found mostly ruffians and bandits, one farmer and one hunter. The highest was level 15, the lowest a 7.

“Hey,” I said to the farmer, “what are you doing with these idiots?”

He blinked and looked at me, and then the rest of the masked bandits.

“You’re just a farmer, bro, you don’t have to do this—”

“Uh,” Nikolai said, “just because his Choice says farmer—”

“Magic user!” The farmer shouted. “Bounty!”

“Oh, you is in trouble now,” the leader said, a big smile spreading over his face below the mask. “Maybe you just hand over the magic user and his bag, and we pretend we found him defiling out here on his own.”

“I am afraid,” Cleeve said, “as much a fool as that man is, I cannot allow you to harm him. Nor turn him in.”

“We waste too much time here,” Nikolai said. “The Northwoods will be along any minute.”

Cleeve glared back at Nikolai.

“Running from Lord Northwoods, are we?” the bandit asked. “Reckon I can understand that. Suppose you got a bounty with him, too, eh? Maybe we ought to just kill the rest of you and skin your furry friends—”

Faster than I could see, Cleeve snapped his blade up and to the side. A bloody rent opened up in the masked man’s neck, and the ground was suddenly awash in crimson gore.

Nikolai, perhaps even faster, decapitated one man, and stabbed through another.

As the head plonked on the ground, mouth still working out what had just happened, the rest of the bandits looked around, leaderless. The capacity for sheer violence our party possessed began to sink in.

“He cut off Norrin’s head!” came a cry.

“Kill ‘em!” came another.

I’m sure it was my fault for pointing the man out, but it was pretty clear the farmer had something to prove now. He came at me with a vengeance.

Ragnar stepped in front of me, set his spear against the ground, and let the farmer impale himself. Then the Lutra released the spear and pulled his sword out, ready for the next comer.

Feeling like everyone else could probably keep their shit together, I pushed Lee behind me and swung for the fences with the big axe.

One of the bandits put his sword up to parry the blow, but the axe just knocked his sword out of the way as if it weren’t there. The blade went through him and thunked solidly into his neighbor, just as his neighbor was bringing a mace up to hit Skeld.

The man tottered. The axe felt stuck in his spinal column. I got my foot up and pushed the corpse off. Lee still knelt behind me, making himself as small as possible in the midst of the fray. I checked for my next target, getting the axe up and in ready position.

Nothing.

No one was left.

Two minutes max, and every one of the masked men was dead. I was both impressed and horrified. I let my axehead come to the ground, trying to ignore the gore slowly dripping off the blade.

“Montana,” Nikolai said. His face was impassive, which most definitely meant he was pissed. “I thought this could go without saying, but please do not perform magic and then tell people what you have done.”

“I was just—”

“You were trying to save someone who had already made their own decisions. And in doing so, you put the rest of us in danger.”

“But—“

“No more on this. Keep your magic to yourself. Now check the bodies.”

In video games, checking bodies is neat and simple. Usually it’s a matter of just walking over or near the body. You’re given the option of seeing what valuables are available. Reality is significantly more unpleasant because, well, dead bodies for one, and two, you’ve got to deal with all the ramifications of the recently deceased, which means lots of blood, lots of guts, and usually recently evacuated bowels. So I got the fun job of sorting through piss, shit, and blood. In this case, it netted us two rusting chain shirts, three sets of severely damaged leather armor, five sets of busted studded leather, twelve masks, six rusty swords, three iron maces, one shoddy warhammer, two hand axes with broken hafts, and a grand total of three gold, twenty-two silver, and fourteen copper. There were also three gold chains, one jeweled dagger, and a small pouch with two heavily jeweled rings and one very thin chain with a huge gem on it. Outside of the bag of jewelry, there was nothing of real value amongst the group, which, I suppose was to be expected from low-leveled bandits.

I started to lay everything out for the group.

“Into the bag,” Cleeve said. “We do not have time for this. If the bandits were here to catch us, it means they expected to catch some of the wealthy fools behind us. If they get to the Charter Office first, I can guarantee they will snatch this parcel of land out from under us.”

“Shit,” Lee said. It was the first time I’d heard him curse. “More running?”

“More running.”

And we were off.

Chapter Thirty-Six

We kept moving, even though night had fallen. When we finally took a moment to breathe, Nikolai walked along the group, and handed out a small root.

“Nightroot,” he said as he pushed it into my hand. “It’ll help you feel less sleepy.”

“Uh—”

“We have to keep going through the night if we are to stay ahead of those who move with horses.”

Lee passed out some dried meat. We all ate. The two Lutra clambered up on my pack, tying themselves onto the top.

I was going to say something, but I realized that with such short legs, all this running with us long-legged fools must have exhausted the two little guys.

And then we were back to running.

Being on the road made things easier, but there was still the occasional stone sticking out, or a low-hanging branch. Plenty of little things to trip up those who couldn’t see in the dark. For me, it was just managing the boredom more than anything else. No one could talk and run at the same time, so I was somewhat left to my own thoughts.

I decided to take that time to take a peek through the UI of this game I was living. See if there were menus or wikis or something. I constantly felt like there was too much I didn’t know, and I was tired of living in ignorance. And the running was more or less on autopilot.

A little guided thought, and I got a menu up. There were three choices at present: SELF, FAMILY, and WORLD. An additional choice, HOLDING, was currently grey and a little hard to read.

I chose SELF and got the usual breakdown of things. Character sheet at the top, and then everything little thing explained more fully in case I needed the information. The ATTRIBUTES screen listed a definition of everything, in case I needed to know what strength was, or, perhaps more important, what skills and aspects of life that particular attribute covered. There was an inventory, which I excitedly opened, but it only listed the bag of holding. Not all the things inside the bag of holding. I was a bit worried I’d never empty the bag out. SKILLS had all my skills laid out in more detail, with slightly more robust descriptions, replete with added snark. Basically, everything outlined on the character sheet had a section where I could look deeper into things. There was a button in the top right corner which simply read: JOURNAL. I punched the button.

It brought up a full list of quests, both completed and active, a list of all the individuals I’d met, and a spot where I could actually journal. I could write down my feelings and thoughts. Which, you know, was a nice touch.

FAMILY brought up the Heraldic Achievement under a banner that read Coggeshall. The Heraldic Achievement was true to what was on my body, with the missing pieces still missing. There were a few tabs: KNOWN RELATIVES, LIVING RELATIVES, FAMILY RENOWN, and other such stuff. Being that I knew very little about my new family, and there weren’t very many of us left, I had virtually nothing in that menu to read.

I thought WORLD might be interesting, but, again, because I knew next to nothing, next to nothing was available to me there.

Hoping there’d be more, I tried to think of other screens to pull up, but that just didn’t work. I only had access to what I had access to. I wondered if there were other things hidden in the system that would come along as I progressed.

I let it all go, and focused on the world around me again. We were going along a flat section now. The trees had largely given way to tranquil flatland, and there were a number of rivers I could see just from my mildly elevated position on a bit of a hill. I knew we had to be somewhere near the delta, if not within it. Ahead, the mountains loomed. They formed a massive barrier, cutting into the sky itself. Except for one point, where it was just empty, as if some god had come down and knocked down a section of the wall.

Like most of the region, perhaps even the world, the landscape was epic, bizarre, and awe-inspiring. I was more excited than I should’ve been to see the Emerald Sea. I couldn’t begin to imagine what this world’s oceans might hold.

Night bled into day as we ran, the miles disappearing beneath our feet. Chowing down on the dark root and dried meat for every meal, we managed to keep a pace that would have killed the old me. Lee wasn’t looking too hot, and frankly, neither was Cleeve. Nikolai seemed more or less unfazed, and I didn’t exactly have stamina any longer, so I was basically peachy keen. I needed to get some sleep in the following night — I seemed to only need about three hours every other night to keep the fatigued rebuff from firing off.

As the day wore on, there continued to be increasing signs of civilization. We’d see a faint wisp of smoke curling over some trees. A signpost indicating a farm’s name. Then there were planted fields. Actual farms. Cows with bells, barns full of hay, and small houses well back from the road, usually behind a few trees.

As night fell again, Cleeve finally called a halt, and we wearily stumbled to a stop in the middle of the road. There was a large tree about twenty yards from the road, its massive crown thickly laden with red fruits. It provided a bit of protection from the elements. We chose to make our camp without a fire, setting our bedrolls on the far side, hoping the wide trunk would hide us from other travelers.

The Lutra, who were well-rested, divided the watch between the two of them, and I didn’t fight them over it. I ate my ration of dried mystery meat, and fell asleep immediately.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

I woke the next morning, feeling refreshed and raring to go. I was pretty much the only one. Everyone else was rather grumpy, especially Lee. He kept going on about how his feet hurt, and how he wasn’t cut out for this, and he’d been promised a desk and a workshop. Running day and night and fighting weren’t part of the deal.

Nikolai glared at Lee, but said nothing. Cleeve steered the little elf over to the side to have a private conversation.

I took that moment to climb the tree and get a look at what was coming.

What could only be Osterstadt itself stood a mile or so distant. The walls were unbelievable, rising over a hundred feet above the ground. Towers came at regular intervals and went even higher. It was smooth stone, ranging from one cliff face on the south side all the way across to another cliff face on the north side. And the cliffs were just the beginnings of the great mountain range. The city of Osterstadt seemed to occupy the entire opening, which meant they controlled all access to the Emerald Sea.

I scurried down the tree and dropped to the ground. My hirðmen were busy harvesting the fruits from the tree while Nikolai struck the little bits of our camp.

“Osterstadt’s, like, right there,” I said.

“I know,” Nikolai replied.

“You’ve been here before.”

He nodded.

“What’s the Emerald Sea like?” I asked.

He smiled, shaking his head. Then he pushed my bedroll into my hands.

“Oh no, Cleeve made his orders clear,” Nikolai said with a wry grin.

Lee and Cleeve came back, Lee looking mostly mollified by whatever Cleeve had told him. I hoisted my pack up, then tied the bag of holding on, and let the Lutra clamber up me and take their usual positions.

We started to walk.

Not run.

“Running attracts attention,” Cleeve said. “Now we must be subtle. We must not be found out before we complete our task.”

We rounded a bend in the road, and Lee got his first sight of the city.

He gasped.

Ragnar and Skeld’s mouths dropped open. Cleeve and Nikolai kept walking as if this was old hat for them. Which, you know, it might have been.

As we got closer, the walls seemed even more impressive. I could see there was a deep trench dug all along the base, with three bridges across leading to three gates. There was a large number above each gate: one through three.

“Gate three is only for the Caravan’s Guild. Gate two is for all visitors to the city and other trade. Gate one is for the wealthy, the nobility and those on Imperial business.”

“What about the Legion?” I asked.

“Technically, they would go through Gate One, but really, the Legion uses whatever gate they want,” Cleeve said. “But remember that the city has only been in the Empire for a short time. If I recall, the city’s own military would only use gate one. Regardless, gate number two is where we are headed today.”

No one was using gate one, and there were a few wagons lined up in front of gate three. Gate two, however, was going to be a wait. The line of people waiting to get into the city went all the way back across the bridge and a distance beyond. It was primarily farmers hauling their goods to the city, but there were also a number of vagrants, travelers, and even a few wealthier types, clearly irritated to be waiting in their posh wagons. As we got in line, I noticed there were clever entrepreneurs who walked up and down the line selling food, drinks, and even trinkets and do-dads for keeping yourself entertained on the line.

The line moved in spurts. A bunch of people got into the city quickly, and then we’d sit and wait while someone got searched. Or get ejected from the line. While waiting, I saw gate three open up. A massive pseudo-wagon came out, something in the neighborhood of a hundred feet long, with a few sets of wheels on it, each one able to turn. I didn’t recognize the beasts that pulled it, but they looked incredibly strong and rather plodding. The wagon-like thing was loaded with hewn timber beams, the biggest I’d ever seen. Each one was a hundred plus feet long, and six- or eight-foot squares at the minimum. Huge amounts of wood. Something that’d be inconceivable in contemporary Earth.

Somewhere in the neighborhood of mid-afternoon, we got to the bridge, and were within ten groups of entering the city. I looked over and saw a familiar posh asshole sitting astride a beautiful horse at the head of a procession of gaudy, extravagant carriages. His sister had her own horse —white, of course — and rode a bit behind her brother. Lady Eliza Northwoods looked elegant despite the rigors of the road. The man who had to be her father, a short fat man wearing ridiculous enameled armor with the Northwoods arms on the cuirass, rode at the front of the grouping astride a beautiful black destrier. They were making great time, heading for gate one.

“Would you look at that bullshit,” I said.

All the heads in my party turned to the south and looked.

“Northwoods,” seethed Cleeve.

Nikolai took a step, but Cleeve’s hand was on the man’s arm immediately.

“We cannot afford to be spotted,” Cleeve said.

“A distraction could prove useful,” Nikolai countered.

“They will trace it quickly, and they have more allies in the city than we do. Once inside those walls, we are in more danger than at any point yet. But it is in those walls where we will beat them across the city. Or lose everything.”

“You want me to provide a delay action?” I asked.

“Perhaps. We must wait and see what happens.”

“But you just—” Nikolai started.

“You can be traced to me. He cannot,” Cleeve said. “Yet.”

The Northwoods reached their gate at roughly the same time we reached ours. I had to stop watching them in order to deal with the guards of Osterstadt. There were quite a few soldiers — some to stand on guard, some to question individuals who requested entry, and some to search farmers’ wagons.

We were taken a off to the right to speak to two guards, both women who looked like they resented being on guard duty and would rather be out kicking ass. I noticed they, as well as most of the other guards, had some pretty gnarly scars on their exposed skin, and both their armor and their weapons appeared well-used.

“Name and business,” the first one asked. She had a very square jaw and a recalcitrant curl of hair that seemed determined to remain free from her helm.

“Lord Benedict Coggeshall,” Cleeve said, using his proper name and title. “I am here on Imperial business, and seek the fastest route to the Imperial Administration House.”

Her eyebrows raised at the pronouncement of Lord. Her partner narrowed her eyes at us. They didn’t buy it.

“Why have you come to Gate two if you are a Lord and on Imperial business?” she asked.

“Do not question my choices, soldier,” Cleeve replied with a snap. “Grant me entry to the city.”

And as soldiers have done since time immemorial, they decided their best course of action was to kick it up the chain of command.

“Just a moment,” the curly-haired one said. Then she thought to add a surly, “my lord. Let me get the captain for you.”

Cleeve held a hand up in protest, wishing to get things over with as quickly as possible. But the guards were already moving.

Nikolai looked over at Cleeve, as if asking whether or not they should make a run for the city, what with the fact that there were zero guards between us and an open city gate at the moment.

Cleeve shook his head.

A moment later, the women returned with a stout man with a perfect coif of black hair and a white cape hanging off his back. It was quite the look.

“Hello,” he said, a rather officious smile on his face, “I am Captain Stans Hosmaar.”

“Captain Hosmaar,” Cleeve said, “as I told your able guards, I am Lord Coggeshall.”

“Yes, I was told who you say you are.”

“Are you implying I am not who I say I am?”

“Your name has come up on our bulletin, so I do apologize, but we are forced to impose upon you for—”

Cleeve dropped his pack.

Both guardswomen had their swords out, which meant Nikolai’s blade automatically followed.

Lee moved behind me, and I stood there like a lump, not wanting to get into a brawl with the city guards before I’d even gotten into the place.

Hosmaar held his hand up, and the two women lowered their swords. Nikolai mirrored them.

Cleeve pulled his armor off, and then opened his shirt to show off the Indicium on his chest, displaying the Coggeshall Heraldic Achievement on his chest.

Hosmaar flipped through a small book he pulled from his pocket. He held it up to compare. In the book was a perfect copy of the Coggeshall family crest and arms. A moment passed as Hosmaar checked the book against the real thing. Finally, he nodded.

“Apologies, my lord,” he said. “I do regret to have inconvenienced you so.”

“Not a problem. Just in a bit of hurry, so—:”

“Allow me to assist you in that. Where are you going?”

Cleeve looked to Nikolai, and they had another one of their shared conversations with no words.

“The Imperial House,” Cleeve said.

Hosmaar nodded, and then darted away.

The two guardswomen, looking moderately chagrined, guided us through the gate to a small waiting area on the other side.

“Just wait here a moment, my lord,” Curly said before heading back to her post.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

We stood there like idiots as the flow of farmers and people sauntered by.

“Does this smell wrong to you?” Nikolai asked.

Cleeve nodded, then said, “I think we need that diversion now.”

“And to split up.”

“Wait,” I said, “splitting the party is never a good idea.”

Cleeve pointed past Nikolai at a group of soldiers moving down the street. “Someone was ready for us.”

“Montana,” Nikolai said, “distraction. Then, you go with Lee.”

“What the—” I started to ask, but Nikolai had already pulled Lee and Cleeve in close. The Lutra were standing on either side of me, wary. I ran through a few possibilities quickly before deciding on an old classic, and pretty much the only thing I could do in such a short time frame while avoiding violence.

I pulled out a coin purse, grabbed a handful of coins, and threw them high in the air.

“Golden shower!” I shouted, making myself laugh like no one else.

Most everyone looked at me like I was crazy, but as soon as the coins started bouncing off the cobblestone streets, there was a mad scramble. Suddenly, the road went from crowded to completely blocked. I threw a second handful out, a bit farther from me.

Someone grabbed my arm, and tugged me along.

“Follow,” Lee said.

We raced along the main thoroughfare, a street wide enough for five wagons to pass by each other comfortably. But Lee pulled me onto a side street as quickly as we found one. Then we hoofed it down an alley, through a door that led into a tavern, and back out onto the street.

That’s when we stopped running and started acting casual, moseying along like we had something to do, but it wasn’t pressing.

“Dude,” I said, “you have any idea where we are going?

“Of course I do,” Cleeve said.

I blinked, shook my head, and realized that Cleeve was leading me through the streets now.

“Wait a—” I started.

“Minor illusion,” he interrupted, a smile on his face. “We had to slip past the Emperor’s brother’s soldiers.”

“How’d they know we were here?”

“Teela. As soon as she reported our position and our direction of travel, they would know this was our ultimate destination.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have used your real name.”

“Had I not, they would not have allowed us into the city.”

“How do you know?”

“As this is an Imperial City, you are only guaranteed entry should you be an Imperial Citizen. Neither you or Lee are able to prove citizenship yet, nor can Nikolai or I without our real names becoming known.”

“How do you know we wouldn’t get let in? Just because we aren’t citizens—”

Cleeve pointed back at Ragnar and Skeld. “Osterstadt does not look kindly on those of us who are non-human, and especially those they consider beast kin. In order to have the clout to bring your hirð into the city, I needed to show who I was.”

I started to see the looks our little group was getting. Initially I thought it was because I’d been looking around the place like a tourist, mouth open wide as I looked from one unreal carving to another, staring up at totem-poles a hundred feet high. Woods of all different kinds. Everything oversized. Nearly every corner was more breathtaking than the last.

But now I realized the locals were definitely giving us dirty looks, sneering at us, and making it quite clear we were engaged in something that was disgusting to them. Slowly, rage built in my heart, and I started to hate the city’s people.

A solid thirty minute trek through the city, and we came to a massive stone building, looking decidedly out of place in the rest of the city. There were plenty of guards outside, but these men and women didn’t wear the city’s markings. Instead, they had a different sigil emblazoned on their tunics: a bearded Vulture. They stood a little taller and straighter, with slightly better equipment, and there was definitely a wider variety of species on display.

From our left came the clatter of hooves, and the Northwoods party rode into view.

“Shit,” Cleeve said.

He hurried across the square, and managed to get his foot on the first step before one of the Legion guards stepped in front of him.

“Help you, sir?” the elf asked.

Cleeve didn’t bother to say anything, he just rolled up his sleeve and willed his indicium to appear, showing his Legion mark.

The elf stepped aside and saluted smartly.

“Apologies, captain,” the elf said.

“Doing your job, soldier,” Cleeve replied and ran up the stairs.

Ragnar and Skeld followed next, and I brought up the rear.

I glanced over and saw that Lord Northwoods was having trouble getting off his giant horse, and neither his family nor the Legionnaires were willing to help him. It was nice to be involved in a race when the other participants didn’t know they were participating.

The inside of the Imperial House was gorgeous. The floors were polished to a high sheen, and there were insane friezes on the walls, with plenty of space afforded should you like to bask in the magnificence of the Emperor. The entryway, like everything else I’d seen in the Empire, was massive, with a ceiling somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty feet above me. It soared to a masterful dome made of white stone and thick stained glass. Soldiers stood at attention inside, but there were plenty of unarmed people moving about. I realized I was seeing some of the bloated bureaucracy required to make an Empire this size function.

A large desk manned by four people effectively split the room in two. One was clearly the public space, and the other the private area, where you’d need to get by guards to go deeper into the building. A large staircase with deep red carpeting came out of one wall behind them.

Cleeve walked across the floor, right over the inlaid sigil of the Empire, heading straight for the desk. He stoped in front of a young woman, someone who wasn’t human, but wasn’t something I could immediately place.

“I need to see the Viceroy, please,” Cleeve said.

“I am so sorry,” the woman immediately countered, “but—“

“Tell him Lord Coggeshall is here on behalf of the Emperor.”

The blood drained from the woman’s face. She pushed back from the desk and ran up the stairs behind her.

We were there for two or three minutes before Northwoods and company arrived. And what an arrival it was. The large double doors opened, and Lord Northwoods strode in, his enameled armor looking resplendent, though not hiding his bulk. His armored boots echoed across the hall with every step. Men at arms wearing the tabard of his house flanked him, his beautiful daughter, and his dandy son.

I got a glare of recognition from the son, and a look of surprise from the daughter, but the father was far too far up his own ass to notice much of anything. Not even Cleeve.

Papa Northwoods walked to the desk, and slammed his fist down.

“I demand to be taken to the Viceroy,” he said, nasal voice reverberating around the hall. “I have come to claim my new dukedom!”

I’m not sure what kind of reaction Northwoods expected, but I don’t think it was silence.

Conveniently, the Viceroy arrived just then, coming down the large set of stairs flanked by guards with big halberds and ceremonial armor. The man was young, maybe thirty at the outside. Like every other man I’d seen in the Empire, he was clean shaven, but his cheeks were ruddy and soft. Happy face though, and his smile stretched from ear to ear when he saw Cleeve.

“Ah,” Northwoods boomed to the non-existent gallery, “I see you have been waiting for me.”

A singular eyebrow raised as the Viceroy looked over at Papa Northwoods.

“You are?” the Viceroy asked.

“I am Lord Northwoods, of course.”

“Oh, of course. Sadly, I was, in fact, waiting for someone else at the moment. I fear it is an appointment on the books for days now.” The Viceroy turned to the desk attendants, “Please see that Lord Northwoods is given refreshments while he waits.”

Northwoods opened and closed his mouth a few times, but it would seem he had enough decorum to not speak back to a viceroy.

The Viceroy embraced Cleeve in a big hug.

“It has been too long, friend,” he said.

Cleeve just smiled and gave a small bow.

“Come,” the Viceroy said, gesturing to a set of double doors. “Tell me how I might help you.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

It was a short walk from the front waiting area, up the stairs, and down a grand hallway to a giant room that the Viceroy said was his office. It could have fit at least one basketball court and one side of bleachers. And about as tall. There was a massive table in the middle, and one wall was just a map of the Empire. My jaw dropped at the level of detail, and the sheer scale of everything. The Empire was a damn big place. Despite having traversed the northern width of the nation, I’d barely covered any of it. It was much bigger north to south than east to west.

The Viceroy’s escorts stopped at the door. There was a loud noise as they slammed their polearms into the ground.

“I hate when they do that,” the Viceroy said, walking us over to his desk.

He gestured at the two chairs in front, and Cleeve sat down. I started to pull my pack off, but then Ragnar hopped up into the chair, so I stopped.

The Viceroy smiled.

“Lord Coggeshall,” the Viceroy said, “what is it that I may do for you on this fine day?”

“I come bearing something from the Emperor, Lord Viceroy.”

“Benedict, must you be so formal?”

“I take it you two know each other?” I asked.

“He was my commander in the Legion,” the Viceroy said. “Before I got this stupid job.”

“That was ages ago,” Cleeve/Benedict interjected. “And this job is a big honor.”

“If my cousin had told me that my primary responsibility would be holding the hands of desperate nobles and dealing with the uppity Osterstadt well-to-do, I would never have accepted the position.”

“Of course you would have. The Emperor asked you to do it.”

“Well, I would definitely have told him off at his next nameday. Which, and I do not want to sound rude, but do you think he will have another nameday?”

“I do not. He is not well, and I fear his end is upon us.”

“Well shit.”

“Agreed.”

“Now, business for just a moment,” the Viceroy said.

“I have a decree from his roya—”

“From my cousin,” the Viceroy interrupted. “And who are these ruffians you are with?”

“Ah, this is my heir, Montana Coggeshall, and his two hirðmen, Ragnar and Skeld.”

“Your heir?” The Viceroy asked, eyebrows going a bit high. “And he has hirð already?”

“Yes,” I said, “your honor.”

The Viceroy laughed at me, which, you know, I felt was justified. “Please, I am just a humble servant of the Empire. You may call me Léon.”

“Do not listen to him,” Cleeve/Benedict interjected. “He is Léon Glaton, member of the Imperial Family and Viceroy of Osterstadt.”

Léon waved his hand. “That is all nonsense.”

“It is not,” Cleeve/Benedict said. “Montana, to you it may seem like frippery and finery not useful anywhere but the confines of court. But there are plenty of those in this world who will judge you poorly should you not give them the respect they feel they are due. Léon, by virtue of who his cousin is, may be more relaxed with the rigid rules of conduct by which the nobility of Glaton must abide.”

While Cleeve talked, Léon walked around the desk and stood by Ragnar and Skeld.

“I apologize,” Léon said, “but I have yet to encounter ones such as you. May I know of you?”

They looked to me.

I shrugged.

“We are Lutra,” Skeld said.

“Lutra,” Léon said. “From the Empire?”

“We live in the Empire, yes,” Skeld said. “We were of the RiverMaster tribe.”

“I would very much like to visit your tribe at some point.”

“If we were of that tribe still, I would be more than honored at your visit. But now we are beholden to Master Coggeshall.”

“I hesitate to push,” Cleeve/Benedict interrupted, “but time is of the essence here.”

“Yes, well,” Léon said, walking back to the desk and dropping into the seat, “give me what you have, and let us get this nastiness out of the way.”

Cleeve nodded, and he reached deep into a pocket inside his coat. He pulled out a thick jeweled disc and set it on the desk. Léon gasped, just a little.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Yes,” Cleeve replied.

Léon pushed the ruby at the center, and the gold disc opened like a flower. There was a letter inside, as well as a small golden thimble. Léon read the letter, laughing a little bit here and there. Then he folded the letter up and slid it into his pocket.

“Perhaps congratulations are in order here,” Léon said.

“Perhaps,” Cleeve replied.

Léon got to his feet and walked over to the large table dominating the room.

“Fetch Aquinas,” Léon shouted.

One of the guards saluted, then dashed off.

Leon pulled a few rolls of parchment out of a chest under the table, and then started spreading out maps of the area.

“Over here,” Léon said.

Cleeve got out of his chair and walked over to the table. The rest of us followed.

“Duke Coggeshall, if I may be so bold,” Léon started, gesturing widely at the maps, “it is time to select your dukedom. Do you have any ideas to what you would like?”

Cleeve leaned over and started at the maps.

“As his heir,” I said, “might I ask a technical question?”

“Certainly,” Léon replied.

“Could he pick it all?”

“The short answer is no.”

“The long answer?”

“Noooooooooo.”

There were a few laughs.

“I know little of you, or of what you know of our Empire,” Léon said.

“He knows nothing,” Cleeve interjected. “He is clueless to all things Glaton.”

“Brilliant choice for an heir, Benedict.”

Benedict just shrugged. He had a small notebook out and was checking coordinates in the book against those on the map.

“So there is the Emperor, my cousin,” Léon said. “He is at the top of the pile. Under him is a list of people a mile long, all equally desperate for more power. Archdukes are in charge of regions. Below archdukes are dukes, who control multiple counties. Counts control a single county, barons a single holding, and, at the bottom, knights control a single estate. More or less. It is all a little more fluid than that, and there are plenty of odd variables which have cropped up in the thousand-odd years of the Empire’s existence. Like the marquises, who control border provinces and receive additional military support from the Emperor. They have, in a sense, a military position. Or cities like Osterstadt, who report directly to the Emperor, with no baron, count, or duke above them. Here, they report to me, and I report to the Emperor. But given the amount of time it would require to get answers back and forth, I am here as the Emperor. I function, more or less, as his voice here. Quite silly, but likely the only way to keep something this size operational over the long-term. But all that is to say that a dukedom has a maximum size, smaller than an arch-dukedom. But, your, well, father, is unique in that he will be a duke, but a duke who reports directly to the Emperor. An imperial duke or a grand duke. As far as I know, your father, and you, will be the only ones of those. There are imperial knights, soldiers of incredible bravery who are given estates and then only report to the Emperor. But those are not hereditary titles — their children either become regular knights reporting to a Baron, or the title just disappears into the ravages of time.”

“That’s a lot to take in,” I said, trying to process the info-dump he’d just laid on me.

“’Tis not even the half of it. There are other Viceroys than just me. And military orders who swear allegiance to the Emperor, and are answerable to none but him.”

“Like the Thingmen.”

“Like them, and also those different than him. They generally don’t follow orders in quite the same way or with the same severity. And they tend to focus on a single method of combat. The Order of the Lance, riding their ponies. Order of the Tooth who like to tame and breed monsters as pets.”

“Where does magic fall into this?”

“Magic? Tell me you are not of the magical bent.”

“Uh,” I started.

“Does he practice magic?” Léon asked.

Cleeve/Benedict didn’t look up from the map, but nodded slowly.

“I suspect you will be wanting an Imperial Prerogative for him.”

“I was planning on buttering you up a little before asking, but yes.”

Léon looked me up and down, and tapped at his clean-shaven chin, then smiled and slapped Cleeve lightly on the shoulder. “Of course. Though, if you are going to take so long with the map, perhaps I will do the Imperial Prerogative first.”

“Not to be rude, but what is an Imperial Prerogative?” I asked.

“Follow,” Léon said, walking back towards his desk. He reached into the top drawer, and he pulled out a small box, something like a ring box. He popped it open, and retrieved a little gold thimble. “Give me your wrist.”

I did so. He turned it over so the inside faced up to him.

“Do you swear to use your magic for the good of the Emperor?” he asked.

“I do.”

“Do you swear to never use your magic to harm the Emperor?” he asked.

“I do.”

“Lovely.”

He jammed the thimble against my wrist. I felt an excruciating pain for a moment, then Léon let go. He popped the thimble back in the box, and I looked down at my wrist.

There was a small black mark, the Imperial Bearded Vulture inside a square inside a circle inside a star.

* * *

You have received the Indicium of Imperial Prerogative: Magic.

* * *

“You can now practice magic in the Empire,” Léon said.

“Uh, great?”

“Indeed. Benedict, are you through yet?”

“Yes,” Cleeve answered. “I have the land chosen.”

“Finally,” Léon sighed, walking back to the giant table.

I rubbed at the mark, trying to get the residual pain to go away, and the two men talked over the proposed dukedom. Léon pointed out where the boundaries of claimed property were when Cleeve pointed to the area he wanted, and Cleeve agreed to certain restrictions, as well as various terms and conditions. Finally, Léon and Cleeve shook hands.

A man was escorted into the room. He had a wooden box under one arm, about the size of a tackle-box.

“Aquinas,” Léon said, “so lovely of you to join us. We have some markings to do.”

Aquinas nodded, and set his box on the table. He opened it up, revealing it was full of art supplies. Very fine brushes, bottles of inks, small nibs on polished wood.

Léon ran his finger along the map, pointing out the boundaries to Aquinas. This time I watched, realizing that this was to be my domain at some point in the near future.

Osterstadt sat at the western edge of this particular map, and then there was a great wash of green, the Emerald Sea. The lake we’d hiked across was a ways to the east. Léon marked out a ton of the mountains, butting up to the lake and going until they were reasonably near the edge of Osterstadt, from the northern edge to the southern edge. Then, there were a few bump outs as well. Like the river I swam in, there was a wide semi-circle around it, going deep into one of the forests then following the river all the way down to the Imperial road. There was also a large chunk that went into the plains area, and some small parcels in the heavy forests. Basically, it was in the shape of a key. A bulbous bit at one end, nearer Osterstadt, and the straight bit up at the top with the rough bit at the bottom. It was a huge amount land.

“That’s more than we discussed,” Cleeve said, as Aquinas finished drawing.

“As Viceroy, I am the arbiter of the land, yes?”

“Yes, though—”

“Also, you should know that your dukedom also qualifies as a march. As you abut the edge of the Empire, and that means as much land as you are able to hold, you are able to keep.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Gentlemen,” he swept his hands over the map, “I present to you, the, oh, what is the name of your dukedom?”

Without hesitation, Cleeve said, “Coggeshall.”

Chapter Forty

Léon smiled. “Good name.”

Cleeve nodded, blushing ever so slightly. It was the first time I’d seen the man embarrassed about anything. Or, really, be emotional about anything.

“Of course, now that this is official, it is time to make it more official. You are going to be a duke,” Léon said.

“I did not—”

“Kneel.”

Cleeve knelt, promptly snatching at my shirt to pull me down with him.

Léon went to his desk and pulled out a ring of keys. He sorted through them, found what he was looking for, then walked over to a painting and pulled it off the wall. It revealed a small door with a keyhole in the middle. Léon opened the door which revealed a lever. He pulled the lever, and there was a ke-thunk of gears coming together. A section of the wall came out like a drawer. Then Léon used a different key on that. As he lifted the top of the drawer up, light bloomed out. Léon turned around holding a glowing sword.

He walked over to us, and set the sword point down in front of Cleeve. Cleeve reached out and wrapped both hands around the blade. I saw a dark drop run down as the sword cut into his hands.

“Benedict Coggeshall,” Léon said, serious for the first time, “as the physical manifestation of His Imperial Highness, Thorismund Glaton, the Emperor of Glaton, I admit you to the rank of Imperial Duke, with only his Imperial Highness between you and the Gods. Rise, Benedict Coggeshall, Duke of Coggeshall.”

Cleeve stood, a big smile on his face, and he let out a sigh. His shoulders relaxed. He’d finally accomplished what we’d set out to do. Which meant that I probably got a quest completion. Which reminded me that I hadn’t taken stock of the notifications for quite some time.

Then, Léon placed the sword in front of me. Up close, the blade was a sight to behold. The entire surface roiled with tiny runes, all glowing a light blue. The metal, too, seemed different, brighter somehow. Also, no blood remained on the blade, despite what I’d seen when Cleeve grabbed it. Maybe I’d been mistaken on the whole bleeding thing.

I reached out and grabbed the blade.

Immediately, pain blossomed out from my hands, and, as expected when grabbing a very sharp thing, blood flowed down, a bit more than with Cleeve. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to grab the blade quite so hard.

“Montana Coggeshall,” Léon said, still serious, “as the physical manifestation of His Imperial Highness, Thorismund Glaton, the Emperor of Glaton, I admit you to the rank of Imperial Ducal Heir, with only your father and His Imperial Highness between you and the Gods.”

Time seemed to slow down for a moment, to where the wings of the fly across the room looked more like those of an albatross.

“Greetings,” came a voice. Or voices. It sounded like it was a multitude speaking as one.

“Uh, hi?” I replied.

“We rarely speak with those who come to us,” the voice said, “but you are the first of your kind we have tasted.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you?”

“We are the line of the Imperium.”

“Might need to run that by me one more time.”

“Right now, you see us as the sword you have your hands around, but in the most simple terms, we are the blood of the Emperors and royal family collected since the beginning of the Empire.”

“That’s really, uh,” I wanted to say weird. Because it was weird. Really weird. Instead, I said, “cool.”

“We are cold?”

“I mean, kind of.”

“We ask if you will be willing to let us drink of your blood, to add it to our memories and what we might offer the next Emperor.”

“Sure.”

There was a pause. “You do not ask anything in return?”

Shit.

“I guess not,” I said.

I felt a great suction, as if something was being pulled from my very being. And just as sudden as it had started, it stopped.

Another pause.

Bear in mind, the rest of the world seemed to have halted at this point. It was remarkably weird. The same droplet of sweat still hung off the guard’s nose, and it was killing me waiting for it to finally let go and drop.

“Fallen,” the voice said, “we have spoken, and we have decided. For your generosity, we give you Royal Blood.”

“Thanks, but—”

Intense pain wracked my body. It was as if my insides were being torn to shreds, glued back together, then ripped asunder again, only to be repaired.

One of those you-can’t-ignore-it notifications popped up.

* * *

HEAR THIS. The Imperial Line has altered your race, irrevocably. You are now ROYAL FALLEN. This will cause some to look on you with favor, and some with scorn. There are unknown benefits and penalties associated with this Racial Choice. Be warned, some of these might never be known.

You immediately receive +1 to all attributes and +10 to charisma. You gain the ability RALLYING CRY. Once per day, you may invoke Rallying Cry. Those in your party or army are given 10% more hitpoints. These hitpoints are temporary and vanish at the end of battle.

* * *

You have gained the Indicium ROYAL. Your spell Identify Object has been boosted to Level 3. You have been granted the ability STAND TALL. You can choose to hide all your wounds while in battle, though at the cost of your stamina. You have been granted the ability REGAL BEARING. Those who look upon you can feel your royal blood, and they are more likely to respect you.

* * *

“Welcome to our line,” the voice said.

Then time ripped right back up to normal speed.

“Rise, Montana Coggeshall, Heir to the Dukedom of Coggeshall.”

Chapter Forty-One

My eyes darted around the room, but everyone else was acting normal. No one realized what had happened. I was really freaked out about the whole thing.

Léon helped me to my feet, and did something I presume was congratulatory. I nodded in response to him. He didn’t seem to notice that I was totally out of it. He just turned back to Cleeve and began chatting with his friend.

I felt like garbage. When I glanced at my HP, I realized why. I was down nearly 3/4 of my health. That donation to the Royal Bloodline had really done a number on me. My red health bar filled up ever so slightly as I followed Cleeve out of the room. My heart thudded in my ears, and I was having trouble paying attention to my surroundings. I knew Léon was making small talk with Cleeve, going over the gossip, his thoughts on the succession, and Osterstadt’s problems, but I couldn’t follow the details. There was also something about the monsters coming out of the Emerald Sea, how it just seemed to be getting worse.

Finally, it was time for us to part. There were hearty handshakes all around before we were out in front of the building, the city bustling around us as if we weren’t the least bit important. Which, to these Osterstadtians, we probably weren’t.

Cleeve looked up into the sunlight, closed his eyes, and smiled. I couldn’t help but smile too, watching him take a minute to enjoy what he had accomplished.

“Where are we meeting Nikolai and Lee?” I asked.

“We have one more stop to make,” Cleeve said, shaking off his smile and clapping me on the shoulder. “Follow.”

He hopped into the flow of humanity (and, well, elfmanity, dwarfmanity, and otherwise, though pretty much only humans) and guided us deeper into the city, closer to the Emerald Sea. I longed to smell the salt in the air, let the waves run over my feet. I’d only seen the Pacific Ocean once, and it had been remarkable. Just the sheer size of it brought my sense of self into focus for a while. I was looking forward to this, thinking maybe it’d be a similar feeling, even if it was smaller and a sea instead of an ocean. Also, I wanted to get the giant pack off my back. I’d had it on for what seemed like weeks, and I was sick of it.

The city streets opened up as we got closer to the sea, but we didn’t make it all the way there. I saw lots of blue sky above the buildings, at least in one direction. On the north and south sides of the city, steep cliff faces became mountains, and then, ultimately, snow. Kind of ominous. I wondered if there were avalanche problems in the city.

We turned away from the direction of the sea and the blue skies, and instead headed south, right towards a mountain. The guards gave us the once over as we went through the gates, but decided we weren’t worth their time. As soon as we got through, I realized we were in a rich neighborhood. It was all large gated estates with very fancy homes. Snooty-looking servants and insufferable rich people every way I looked. Cleeve seemed to know exactly where he was going, which turned out to be a beautiful brick building tucked up against the massive cliff. It had four floors, lots of big columns outside, and a bevy of footmen milling about. A brass plaque sat on the front of the building, just above the big double doors, big enough that I could see it from the road, small enough that I couldn’t read it until we got closer.

‘The Explorer’s Club.’

Cleeve looked over me and at the two Lutra.

“Afraid you two better wait out here,” Cleeve said.

“Hey—” I started.

“This is purely a performance for money. If we are to start our dukedom right, we need coin. Coin is in there. And those fools have stupid prejudices. We can change their minds later. After we take their money.”

“Look, I probably should have told you this prior to, you know, now, but I have like, a ton of gold in my bag.”

“An actual ton or just a lot?” he asked.

“No idea how much, really.”

“That might be something you should pay attention to.”

“I haven’t exactly had a bunch of free time on this little trip of ours.”

“That is my fault. We have been under quite the time crunch, but that is almost at an end. We will hopefully be able to rest on our own land soon, and at that time—”

“It’s just, I don’t feel right—”

“However much money you might have, it is yours. It would not be my place to ask you to give it to me to use as I wish. Should you wish—”

“But I’m your son.”

“Yes. And so my funds are to go to you. Not yours to me.”

“But—“

“Montana,” he said. “This new land of ours will require gold and sweat to build. Blood to protect. Spirit to maintain. We will likely need more of all those things than we can possibly plan for. I appreciate that you have gold, and that you are willing to put it to use for us. But we still have things to do before we can get to that. And, should we find we have too much money, we can be frivolous with it then.”

He gave me a clap on the shoulder, and looked over at the Lutra.

Skeld shrugged, then leaned against a gas lamp.

Ragnar scowled, but did the same.

Cleeve walked up to the doorman, a rather grumpy-looking fellow with chainmail under his nice frock, and a heavy sword at his side.

“Members only, sir,” the doorman said.

Cleeve nodded, smiled, and passed over a small card.

The doorman read the card, then pulled on a ribbon that was hanging down next to his station. From the look of it, I had the feeling the other end was attached to a bell somewhere inside.

“One moment,” the doorman said.

A heartbeat later, an arm extended through a cleverly hidden hole in the door. At the end of the arm, a hand held out a silver tray. The doorman gently placed the card on the tray. Then, the tray and arm disappeared back into the hole. A moment later, and the door opened. A man dressed in finery bowed ever so slightly, then gestured for us to follow him.

I’m not sure why it didn’t register before, like when we were in the Imperial House, but here, in these posh surroundings, it hit me how disgusting we were. This place had plush carpeting over all the floors, luxurious dark wood paneling on all the walls. It was a gorgeous space holding plenty of wonders, and Cleeve and I hadn’t bathed in days. Had spent the last few days running, in fact. Wearing the same clothes for the entire time. Not to mention, I still had someone else’s blood on me. Quite a bit, actually. I think I had managed to reach as close to peak gross as possible. And now, I was in one of the most richly-appointed buildings I’d ever walked through.

Good job, me.

The footman guided us through several halls, up some stairwells, and finally brought us to a set of doors.

He knocked twice at the doors, hard taps.

“Enter,” boomed a voice on the other side.

The footman pushed the doors open, and announced, “Cleeve Dye and associate.”

Like everything else in the place, the room was opulent and amazing. Very large with a high ceiling, there were big comfy chairs, huge fireplaces, big windows, a snooker table, and a few chairs and tables set up for other games. An entire wall was covered with various hunting trophies, mounted heads of all varieties. There was one that looked an awful lot like the wyrm I’d seen, and a massive humanoid sort, which I bet had to be a giant.

Posh men and women busied themselves with, drinking, smoking, and well, leisuring.

A man in a uniform had a tray with drinks and was delivering them about the room.

As soon as we were announced, all eyes were on us. Cleeve, however, saw his target immediately, and strode over, a huge smile on his face.

The target in question was a very large man who’d spread himself all over an armchair. Multiple plates were in reach of his pudgy hands, though there were only the remains of small delicacies on each one. He held a crystal goblet in one hand, fingers delicately holding onto the bottom rim.

“Theun Bottes,” Cleeve said, striding towards the man, “I am here to fulfill your request.”

“You have it?” the large man said, sitting up. His eyes went wide with happy surprise.

“That I do.”

“And it is not rotten?”

“It is not.”

“I have been approached by plenty who claim to have done the impossible. They have all failed and paid a price. My time is valuable, Mister Dye, so gone are the days where anyone can just offer me fruit and say it is what I have asked for. I know—”

“I have what you want,” Dye said. “What none have been able to bring you. I have braved dangers and gone through deepest wilderness and darkest forest to bring you this. It is a unique moment, sir.”

“If you do not succeed, you and your man here must agree to work my contracts for thirty days.”

“Understood. But if it is as you asked—”

“You will get your reward. If it is what I have asked for.”

Cleeve gestured to me. He helped get the pack off my back. A little work, and he revealed a heavy wooden case. The case came open in two pieces, revealing a large rectangle wrapped in layers of burlap. Those came off and revealed another wooden box. Cleeve pulled the top of the box off, and the sides fell away to reveal a glowing glass box, holding another glass box, with a small potted tree inside. It was heavy with fruit.

There were gasps about the room, and Bottes was excited enough he almost got out of his chair. I wondered if he was physically able to do so. Every other person in the place came over, all circling around Bottes and Cleeve.

Carefully, Cleeve pulled the glass box up. There was a hiss as gas released. I felt cool air rush over my legs. The inner box’s glow increased, like the escaping gas had been keeping the light in somehow.

The final box came off, and the plant was revealed. The tree itself wasn’t a whole lot to look at. Somewhat spindly, with wide dark green leaves. There were three fruits, though, hanging heavy off the small branches. Each fruit was the size of a fist, and an almost iridescent blue. They didn’t glow, but they really reflected the light something special.

“I cannot believe it,” Bottes said. “It is as I have read, as I have heard, but I have never seen it myself. That is the Wishberry?”

Cleeve nodded, and plucked a berry from the tree, ever so carefully. “A ripe Wishberry.”

Bottes reached his fingers out and took the berry. The room was completely still, watching the man hold the fruit.

He took a bite, and the juices exploded around his mouth, running down his chins. Bottes closed his eyes, and a sensuous moan escaped his lips.

“Perfection,” he whispered.

In the barest of moments, Bottes had eaten the entire fruit, and went so far as to lick his hands clean before leaning back in the chair. He kept his eyes closed for a spell, silence still reigning over the rest of us.

“Thank you, Mister Dye,” Bottes said. “You have made a dream of an old man come true.”

Bottes lifted his hand and pulled a small bell from his sleeve. He rang it twice, and before the sound had finished, a footman was at his side.

“Please bring the wishberry reward chest to Mister Dye here,” Bottes said.

“At once, sir,” the footman replied, bowing and retreating with impressive swiftness.

“I notice you have another fruit there,” one of the other men in the room said.

“So I do,” Cleeve replied. “Looks to be two of them.”

“I do not suppose you could be persuaded to part with one of them.”

“I might be persuaded.”

“A hundred gold.”

I raised an eyebrow as the bidding began and the group of wealthy assholes all dipped into their pockets to overspend on fruit. Though I have to admit, the whole thing made me curious.

The bidding finished at two hundred and fifteen platinum for one of the extra wishberries. The second went for a hundred horses. Not a bad haul.

Cleeve passed the berries off to their new owners, then handed the plant, still in its tiny pot, to Bottes.

“A small gift, sir,” Cleeve said. “Perhaps there is a herbalist you know who might get another berry from it.”

Bottes bowed his head deeply. “I am moved by your generosity, Mister Dye. I shall endeavor to grow this, and I am indebted to you. A favor.” Bottes reached into his pocket, pulled out a small token, and pressed it into Cleeve’s hand.

Cleeve bowed his head, and took the token.

A moment later, the footman reappeared, pulling a chest on wheels.

“As stated,” Bottes said, Vanna White-ing the chest from his seat, “my weight in gold.”

There was some polite laughter, and one of the footmen opened the chest. It was nearly overflowing with golden coins. Cleeve went over, looked at it, and nodded at Bottes.

We put the pack back together. I noticed there was a second box that hadn’t been pulled out . I shouldered the pack, and stood waiting.

“Montana,” Cleeve said, “the chest.”

I walked over, lifted the chest off the the cart, and headed to the exit. It was heavy, which made me smile, because that meant there was plenty of money there.

There were a few surprised gasps from those in the room, but I ignored them, walking out in front of Cleeve.

Chapter Forty-Two

As soon as we stepped into the hallway, I slid the chest of gold into the bag of holding. Not that carrying it would have been that big of a deal, but it was bulky and I was worried I’d wind up leaving a giant scratch in their pristine walls. Cleeve stepped around me, and walked as if he knew where he was going. He led the two of us out of the building.

Ragnar and Skeld were still leaning against a lamppost, but there was a young man who was haranguing the duo. Amusingly, as soon as Cleeve and I walked over, the young man quieted right up, and found that he suddenly had other events to attend.

“Sorry gents,” I said.

“Just another day in the hirð,” Ragnar replied.

A deep bell rang out over the city.

“Problem?” I asked.

“Just telling us the time,” Cleeve replied. “But it means we need to move. Right now we are at risk of being late.”

Cleeve started off, and I had little recourse but to follow the man. I was completely lost. The city had no grid pattern whatsoever. Like most mediaeval cities I’d taken a gander at over the years, it had clearly grown organically so the roads were often just the most convenient path between two important things until another stupid building got in the way. There were a ton of people out and about, and as we left the posh district and headed back into the commercial area, everything got loud and boisterous.

I felt a tug at my belt, and looked down to see a small boy with a knife, trying to slice through a drawstring holding a purse. I grabbed him by the shirt, picking him all the way up until I could look into his eyes.

Eyes that were now very very wide.

“Do you mind?” I asked.

“Not very much, no,” came the boy’s tiny reply.

Gently, I deposited the lad on a bench, reached into the pouch, and pulled a gold coin from it. I flipped it towards the kid and left him there.

Cleeve hadn’t stopped, and I was barely able to keep sight of the man as he slipped through the crowd. Thankfully, I had some help from the two Lutra, who elicited plenty of dirty looks from the native Osterstadters. But we caught up to Cleeve.

He led us further west, to an inn that wasn’t particularly far from the Emerald Sea. A sea I had yet to see. Something that bothered me increasingly. I wanted to see the damn sea! I wanted to swim, and I wanted to fucking fish.

I took a breath.

The inn, the Sea’s Maid, was a more professional place than any of the various inns or taverns I’d been so far. The foyer was wide and welcoming. There was a seating area off to one side, and a desk in front of a host of mailboxes on the other. Through an archway, I could see a bar, and, further along, a restaurant.

Cleeve spoke to a young man at the desk, and got us five rooms. Then we went upstairs.

The rooms were nice, with decent-sized beds, large windows with views of the city, and a small desk opposite the bed.

Underneath the bed was a ring mounted to the floor with a length of chain attached to it. Seemed like an interesting way to make a hotel room safe.

I went to Cleeve’s room and took off the pack, figuring he’d want to keep an eye on it.

“Is it, I mean,” I stammered, “do you think there will be a time I can go see the Emerald Sea?”

“I am sure of it,” Cleeve said. “And I will make sure of it. Perhaps not this evening, however.”

“What is going on?”

He just smiled and shook his head. “You will see.”

There was a gentle knock on the door, and before I could open it, Nikolai strolled in with Lee right behind him. They looked a bit haggard, but mostly well otherwise.

“All go as hoped?” Nikolai asked.

Cleeve nodded, letting out a long breath. “We are finished.”

Nikolai nodded.

Chapter Forty-Three

We all stood around the room being awkward for a minute, no one really knowing how to feel about our accomplishment.

“Get out of here,” Nikolai said. “Cleeve and I need to talk.”

Cleeve shrugged.

The four of us left and we all went to my room.

I walked to the window as the two Lutra fought briefly over the prime spot on the bed. Skeld won, and Ragnar tumbled onto the floor.

My room looked over the city. Excited, I leaned out so I could try to get a view of the Emerald Sea, but there was a fucking building in the way. I noticed that here, closer to the sea, more of the buildings were built of brick or stone. They were robust, lacking the finery and filigree of the center city. Things were thicker, built stronger, and it looked as if there were numerous defensive points, murder holes and the like. There was a much denser military presence out here as well, with Legionaries all about, marching along the road, stationed on corners, and eating in cages. Always armored, always armed.

Lee leaned against the desk, Skeld stretched out on the bed, and Ragnar tried to get comfortable in the desk chair. Lee’s eyes were a little vacant, a look I was starting to recognize. He was reading something. The Lutra had their eyes closed, which could mean they were also going over notifications, or that they were actually sleeping. I never really knew, especially with Ragnar. I took it a sign, though, and I popped into the world of notifications. Text bubbles were everywhere, telling me all the things I’d accomplished. I’d killed some lowly farmers, and got a pittance of XP for them. I’d completed Cleeve’s big quest, getting him to Osterstadt on time. For that, I’d gotten a pretty solid amount of XP, but I assumed the other rewards would be coming later. You know, the land and the gold. I hadn’t gotten enough XP to hit level 12, but I figured I had to be close.

Now I wanted to know what Nikolai and Cleeve were up to.

“You know what they’re talking about?” I asked Lee.

The elf shrugged. “I’d only be guessing.”

“Guess away.”

“Something to do with Cleeve and the people out to get him.”

“Seems to be a long list.”

“I’d imagine you know more about than me.”

I was just about to tell Lee about the whole Imperial connection, but I stopped. Cleeve and Nikolai had known Lee longer than I had, and if there was something they’d neglected to tell him, there was probably a reason. Maybe they knew something I didn’t.

“I think he got mixed up in court politics,” I said.

“Can’t imagine anyone in the upper reaches are excited there’s a new duke running around. That makes you a target too. Kill the both of you, and the dukedom is up for grabs.”

“I figured I’m a target already,” I said, feeling a little better. Lee knew about the dukedom.

“You ever imagine this sort of life?” Lee asked.

“You mean back home?”

“Yeah. In what, Detroit?”

“That’s where I was when I left, yeah. But it’s not, like, so different than the life I was living. Too much fighting, too many life or death situations, and more politics than I ever wanted to be involved in.”

“What kind of Detroit were you in?”

“At the end, I wasn’t in any kind of Detroit. That’s just where I came from. And even that’s more of a, well, just a thing you say.”

“Oh?”

“I was raised in the burbs. They’re, like, pretty nice. Even went to this choice private school. But books and I didn’t get long very well. School and I didn’t either. Finished up with school, took the money my parents had saved for college, and moved to Philadelphia. A whole bunch of bad decisions later, I wound up as part of a motorcycle club—”

“A gang?” Lee asked.

“What’s a motorcycle?” Ragnar asked.

“It’s a bit like a horse,” I said. “And we prefer the term club, but we engaged in plenty of, uh—”

“Crime?” Lee asked.

“Illicit activities.”

“You were bandits?” Ragnar asked.

“We didn't exactly steal stuff. We ran guns — uh, weapons — and drugs. We were on the border with Canada, did a fair amount of business moving stuff from one side of the border to the other. And there was loan sharking. But I didn’t steal things.”

“Ah,” Lee said.

Immediately, I regretted telling him about my past. It sounded pretty terrible. It was pretty terrible.

“I was a pretty garbage person,” I said. “Kind of hated myself for it.”

“How’d you end up here then?”

“I got more attention on me than the club liked, so I joined up with a circus for a while to get out of town with a good excuse. Fell in love on the tour, brought the girl home. Her family wasn’t super keen on me. She, well, shit, tough to talk about this.”

“You don’t have to,” Lee said.

“But—” Ragnar started, but a swift smack upside the head from Skeld shut him up.

“I think I should. She died. They called it suicide. I suspected the parents were too hard on her — she couldn’t choose between her family and me, or something along those lines. Her parents decided I’d somehow killed her, and they had money and connections. It didn’t take long before those connections were bringing Federal heat down on me and the club.

“Of course, the club didn’t like the heat. They decided it’d be better if I got out of the way. They let a rival group know I was free game. I got into a few bad fights, and then the rival club sent a bunch of men over to my house to kill me, and my last friend gave me a ticket here. That’s the quick and dirty version, I guess.”

Silence in the room. I wished I’d just shut up about myself.

“What’s your story?” I said, desperate for someone else to talk about something.

“Long and boring,” Lee said.

“Well, I’ve let myself sound like an asshole long enough. Might as well entertain us with a boring story.”

Lee gave the smallest of smiles, and hopped up so he was sitting on the desk, leaning against the wall of the room.

“I was in the Air Force. Army Air Force originally. Started near the tail end of World War 2, flew a few combat missions before the surrender, and then I turned into a glorified delivery boy all around Europe.”

“You’re shitting me?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed you’re old enough to be in World War 2.”

“I aged well,” he said. “Anyway, I got out, went to college, studied engineering, met a girl. But then I got pulled into Korea. She waited for me, and we got married when I returned stateside. Korea ended and I got a job engineering air conditioners and heaters. HVAC. Then I lucked out and got a job with a defense contractor. Well, it was an odd deal where I was an officer with the Air Force assigned to work with the contractor. So there I was, wearing a uniform to work every day around a bunch of men in shirt sleeves, building missiles of every size and shape. Always trying to deliver bigger booms farther away. Vietnam started. And they asked me to fly again—”

“You flew in three wars?”

“It’s not quite what you think. I flew a bomber against Japan, flew in-country cargo in Korea, and flew back and forth across the Pacific in Vietnam. Mainly, I was just delivering packages from one country to another.”

“What about the girl?”

Lee smiled, and looked up at the ceiling. “Storybook romance.”

“You guys stayed married?”

“Till death did us part,” he said. “Had kids, grandkids. She died a few years ago, told me she’d wait for me again. That I needed to have plenty of adventures to tell her about when I got home again. So that’s what I’m doing here, having adventures.”

“She’s not going to believe this.”

“Not sure I believe this.”

“You were a grandpa. That’s awesome.”

His smile grew a little larger as he looked out the window. “I miss those kids, but they all had lives of their own. Kept feeling like I was more of a burden than anything else. And here, well, here I’m young again. No back pain. No pacemaker. No indigestion when I eat a steak. Couldn’t pass this chance up.”

“I get it,” I said, thinking about my body back on earth versus the beefcake I’d become here.

“What is a rocket?” Ragnar asked.

“It is like an arrow,” Lee replied slowly, clearly needing a moment to finalize his metaphor, “except it is propelled by a continuous explosion.”

“Magic?”

“Physics and chemistry.”

“I have not heard of those schools of magic. Perhaps I have skills in them.”

“You have no magic,” Skeld said.

“Always holding that over me,” Ragnar snapped back. “Just because you can do some minor magic and I cannot—”

“Wait,” I said, interrupting Ragnar, “You can do magic?”

Skeld nodded.

“I didn’t know that! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You can look at my character sheet, can you not?”

“I, uh, maybe.”

“We see yours,” Skeld said. “It is because we are a hirð.”

I looked over at Lee. “You ever feel like you just don’t know a damn thing about this stupid game?”

“Every minute of every day.”

A loud crash came from outside, in the hallway.

Both Lutra were immediately on their feet. They grabbed their spears out of the corner of the room. Lee seemed like he was about to hide under the bed.

Me, I just burst through the door.

Chapter Forty-Four

The hall was full of armored men and women, all waiting to get into Cleeve’s room.

“Wait in your room, citizen,” one of the men said to me with a gnarly sneer.

“Uh, I’ll pass, thanks,” I said. “I’ve got things to do, and you’re directly in my way.”

The man nearest shoved me. Or at least tried to — I didn’t move. I growled at the man, then head-butted him.

All eyes turned to me. Whispers spread through the group as they tried to figure out what to do with this weirdo who just assaulted one of their comrades, but was definitely not on the “to-fuck-up” list for the day.

“You will pay for that,” my victim said, his voice breaking a little. He had both hands around his nose and tears leaked from his eyes. Tough to look intimidating while you’re crying.

“Then add this to my tab,” I said, and popped him in the kisser.

Now I was still a total novice when it came to weapon-based fighting, but one thing I can bring to bear is fighting out-numbered in cramped conditions. This was Bouncing 101: hit fast, fight dirty, use the environment.

I jabbed my right fist out hard, connecting with another head. Because these idiots were so tightly packed, it had a ripple effect. All of a sudden, I had a moment of reprieve as the four dudes to my right were fighting a sudden headache.

My initial victim’s nose bled in a torrent. He tried to move away from me, no longer interested in a fight.

But I still was.

I stomped on his insole, and he instinctively picked his foot up, trying to grab at it. I gave the man a hearty shove, and got a perfect barricade going on the left as he crashed into his neighbors. Now, I had a half a second to figure out what the fuck was going on.

The hallway was small by my old standards, maybe three feet across at most. It was high, though. Like all the architecture I’d seen in Osterstadt, the ceilings were impressively tall, 12 or 14 feet. My room was left of Cleeve’s, and Cleeve’s was one away from the main stairwell. I could see there were more soldiers there. I wanted to get to Cleeve’s room, hopefully cut off the men coming up the stairs. All told, I had four to my right, six to my left, and at least three that I could see on the stairs.

I dropped my shoulder and charged. A dude with curly hair tried to take the hit, but when my shoulder met his, there was a sickening crunch as his gave way. He dropped to the floor with a cry.

Man number two tried to step out of the way, but he got caught in the feet of the man behind him, and I just ran them over.

Three down.

Four had a truncheon out, and he swung at my head.

A little duck let the truncheon sail by, leaving poor Four wide open. I lowered a bit more and picked the man up. I clipped him all the way over me, and heard him slam into the pile behind me.

Five had a dagger out, and I slid to a stop. If I plowed into the man, the dagger would bury itself deep in my gut.

With a ‘hey-ya,’ Five lunged at me.

I grabbed his wrist with both of my hands and brought it down on my knee.

He screamed. I think, mostly, because he saw his bones come out. But bonus, he dropped the dagger.

Six saw what happened to Five, gagged, and took a step back.

I chose to give Six the ol’ what-for, and kicked him straight in the nuts.

He threw up. Eyes back in the head, he toppled over backwards, and slumped against the railing.

A stillness came over the hall as my opponents tried to strategize. Seven men were down in some capacity, four were fine. My hirðmen finally came out with their spears. Clearly our opponents were very much cowards who seemed to think numbers were the only way to victory. There were more men on the stairs, and they all looked at me with a mixture of fear and anger.

Swords came out then. It was going to get a lot bloodier. Which is when I realized it would have been a much smarter idea to grab a weapon prior to leaving my room.

With a deep breath and a modicum of courage, the first man on the stairs thrust his sword at me.

I dodged to the side, the sword slicing a bit of my shirt off. I gave the man a hearty shove. He caught the railing with his hip and went ass over tea kettle, falling down the stairwell until he hit a landing with a solid thunk. Splinters of wood flew out around him.

Second Stair Man was already coming at me, and Third was doing his best to stab around his mate.

I got my forearm up, and the first thrust sliced through a bit of my arm, but also went into the wooden wall behind me. I sucked my butt in and out of the way of the next thrust, which put me in a perfect position to kick back, horse style, and catch Third’s arm. He spun and stumbled.

Second busied himself trying to free his blade, not paying enough attention to me. I popped him straight in the side of the head, and he dropped like a rock.

I stomped on Third’s arm, and it squished. The man screamed in pain.

Once again, there was stillness.

Behind me, in Cleeve’s room, I heard talking.

Below me, on the stairwell, the gathered men moved to the side as someone more important than them came up. I could tell he was important because he had a cape and a fancy helm.

He stopped several steps down, eyeing the mess I’d made of his men.

“I believe there may have been a misunderstanding,” Cape said.

“Oh?” I asked, feigning politeness.

“We are here to arrest someone.”

“Is that the case?”

“It is, and I fear my men have been overzealous in their, shall we say, defense of their cause. Have they offended you?”

“You could say that.”

“May I ask if there is a way we might rectify the problem without further violence?”

“Well,” I started, drawing it out, “I suppose, if you leave, and come back at a different time…”

The man smiled. “I cannot do that until my orders have been carried out.”

“And what are those orders?”

“As I told you, I am here to arrest a man.”

“Awful lot of you for just one man.”

“He is very dangerous. We did not want to take any chances an innocent bystander might get injured in the fracas.”

“Is he, perhaps, Benedict Coggeshall?”

Cape bristled. He must’ve been operating under the idea I was just a random dude itching for a fight.

“I think now might a good time for me to tell you that Benedict Coggeshall is my father. I don’t take kindly to you calling him dangerous. Or arresting him.”’

“Coggeshall has no children,” the Cape sneered at me. “You are a liar and—”

“Dude,” I said, holding up a hand, “I could disrobe and show you the family indicium, but that’d mean getting half-naked right here, and taking my armor off right now just doesn’t seem like the best of ideas. So how about we agree to believe me for the moment, okay?”

“If that is how you wish to be known, then that is your prerogative. I am afraid I will have to arrest you in addition.”

“You and what army?”

“What do you mean ‘what army?’”

“I mean, your men haven’t exactly been kicking ass and taking names so much as eating shit and embarrassing themselves. So if you want to arrest me, where’s the army that’s going to actually get the job done?”

He reached for his sword, starting to draw it from its scabbard.

I didn’t like where this was headed.

So I kicked him in the chest, Sparta-style. He flew straight back, hitting the wall at the far edge of the stairwell before dropping to the landing like a rag doll. I’ll say this for him: his cape fluttered nicely all the way down.

A loud bell rang somewhere outside. It was deep and loud and profoundly resonant. It rang again.

All the soldiers looked at each other.

Third bell.

Cleeve’s door opened, and another caped man walked out.

Cape Two paused, confused at what he saw. Then he barked out, “You hear the bell, you move to your positions!”

Cleeve stepped out of the room, and the new caped man turned towards him.

“This is not over, Coggeshall,” Cape Two said, sneering the same way Cape One had.

“I will be defending the city as well, Godfrey Duhamel,” Cleeve said, his voice calm and collected.

Cape Two whirled around and marched down the stairs. The soldiers gathered up their wounded comrades and followed their leaders out of the hotel.

The bell continued ringing in the background.

“Get armed and armored,” Cleeve said. “It is time for you to see the Sea.”

Chapter Forty-Five

As soon as we stepped through the doors of the inn, I could tell things were different in the city. Something bad was going down. Mainly, it was the screaming coming from people nearer the sea, but also, anyone who looked like they had something to do with fighting was heading straight for the sea. A giant group of Legionnaires marched in quickstep down the road, their heavy armor jangling and their spears held high.

“What the hell is going on here?” I asked Cleeve.

“The city calls for defense,” he replied.

“Yeah, got that part. From what?”

“Whatever has decided to crawl forth from the Emerald Sea today.”

It was only a few blocks to the sea. But just when I thought I’d finally get to see the damn thing, there was a giant wall in the way. A seawall I suppose. All the armed men and women headed up the stairs. Though there were all sorts of different uniforms and tabards, everyone seemed to be of a singular purpose.

I was the first of our group up the stairs. Up top I found a wide wall, something like fifty yards wide. Beyond it, I saw something truly magnificent.

Trees.

As far as I could see, there were trees. Well, the tops of trees. It was as if all the trees ended at the same level. So, in a sense, it was like looking at a giant sea of green. And there were all different types of trees — pines, oaks, palms — all right up next to each other. The wind whipped along the treetops. I had the feeling the storms that came through this hole in the mountains were unbelievably intense.

The Legion had formed up in a bristling square of spears, holding the center. All the rest of us were divided on either side, waiting. The wall ran the whole length, from mountain to mountain. It was probably half a mile long. There were a lot of us ready to take on whatever was coming up.

The thing was, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see more of the trees, so I kept walking, right up until the edge. Then, I looked over.

I was expecting to see some distance. Maybe a hundred or two hundred feet. But when I looked down, I only saw darkness below. It was so far down I could barely make out the ground. Five or six hundred feet at least, and sloping down. The trees were absolutely ginormous. Six hundred feet tall, maybe a hundred feet round at the base. Maybe more.

And, you know, just to make it double trouble, a giant thing was crawling up the wall. It was big. Three hundred plus feet long with a wide spade-shaped head, rather flat, with a mouth filled with rows of teeth. Kind of like a shark’s, where its teeth go all the way down the throat. It had six legs I could see, and a bundle of tentacles coming out of its butt, like it had a ton of tails. Smaller things crawled all around it, and my guess was that these creatures only looked small because they were next to such a monstrous beast.

I fired off my identification spell.

* * *

Ebony Gut Beast

Lvl 12

* * *

A Gut Beast. Of the Ebony Variety. And only level 12. No problem.

I fired off another spell, this time targeting one of the little things.

* * *

Ivory Gut Beast

Lvl 11 Beast

* * *

Uh.

I focused on the big motherfucker again, really trying to make sure there wasn’t one of the little thingies, the gut beasts, in the way.

* * *

Mammoth Gothferox

Lvl ??? Beast

* * *

Better.

Mammoth Gothferox. Sounded like a pushover.

Its great mouth opened and it let loose a mighty yell. The sheer wind alone knocked me back on my butt.

Which, you know, silver lining, meant that when the Gothferox came over the edge, I wasn’t right there to get eaten.

It did mean I had to scramble out of the way as the Legion charged, pikes all ready to stab at the beast. The gut beasts, meanwhile, swarmed off the Gothferox, charging and snarling at anything they could get their teeth around.

They were almost ant-like, with eight legs attached to the middle of their three segments, long antennae coming off the tops of their heads, and no eyes that I could see. Chitin covered their bodies like armor. They had claws on two of their front legs, and what seemed like sticky pads on the rest, because they were able to climb on any surface. Jagged mandibles came out of their spherical heads, and there was some sort of stinger coming out their end. Not one thing about the gut beasts looked appealing, and a fetid odor wafted off them in horrid waves.

Being that I was on my butt, I must have looked like an easy target. One of the Gut Beasts came at me, leaping so it landed with its legs on either side of me. Its mandibles stretched wide in front of a hole of a mouth, saliva dripping down like some vile ooze.

Smart man I that was, I had no weapon ready. I’d thought I’d have time to arm up because I had the magic bag. That I could wait and see what we were facing before I chose a weapon.

The mandibles came down at me, ready to rip my head straight off, and I did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed a mandible in each hand, and tore them apart.

I strained for a moment, and but it wasn’t as hard as I expected. I was stronger than this asshole. Instead of holding the mandibles in place, I started to push. Immediately, they hit their organic stops, the chitin armor around the gut beast’s head. The creature realized it was in trouble and started to pull away.

“Not yet, buddy,” I said, and I flexed fully, putting all the muscle I had into the task of tearing apart the gut beast. With a sharp crack, the armored head snapped open. The mandibles ripped out of their joints and came off in my hands.

A torrent of slime — I’m guessing it was whatever served as blood for the gut beast — poured out of the ruined head of the creature. It started going a bit crazy, running around at random before crashing into its brethren and finally careening off the cliff.

Meanwhile, I was left holding two mandibles, one in each hand. Each one was about two feet long, pointy at one end and full of serrations along either edge.

* * *

Gut Beast Mandible

Item Type: Improvised

Item Class: One-handed Melee, Two-handed Melee

Material: Chitin

Damage: 10-20 (Slashing)

Durability: 20/20

Weight: 4.8 lbs

Requirements: Str 8

Description: Normally used in a pincer motion by the creature, you can do what you like with them. Good luck!

* * *

The next gut beast was already charging me, but I had just enough time to get my bearings. He head-butted my stomach, and I slammed both mandibles straight down, plunging them through the gut beast’s head. It seemed to do the trick, as its legs stopped moving, and the body dropped to the ground, sliding along the rock.

I enjoyed the quick ride on the back of the dead creature, which got me a little distance from the battle. I stepped off the creature, slid my bag around to my front, and pulled out the big battle axe. Old Standby.

I looked over at the rest of the battle. The Legion had a technique for dealing with the gothferox: they’d do a bunch of poking, then split to the sides as the gothferox slammed its body down on the stone, teeth gnashing and spittle flying about. Then, as the gothferox attempted to pull itself fully onto the battlement, the Legion would charge as a phalanx, spears bristling out front, sinking the barbed points into the gothferox’s head. The behemoth would rear back, getting away from the spears but taking quite a few with him. The Legion would follow, keeping the pressure on. The next time the gothferox would try to bring his body down on the annoying pokers, the Legion would flow out to the sides, and a fresh phalanx would be ready to charge. At regular intervals, huge bolts flew from ballista, hammering into the creature with resonant thuds. It was ingenious, really. The rest of us yokels were tasked with keeping the gut beasts from interfering with the Legion.

Cleeve stood at the back, sword out and ready to fight, but seemingly happy to remain in reserve. Ragnar and Skeld stood on either side of him, spears at the ready, protecting my new old man. Nikolai, meanwhile, carved a swath of slaughter through the gut beasts, their carcasses providing a bloody map of his movements.

Far to the left, hugging the stairwell and definitely not getting into the mix, were the soldiers who’d been trying to arrest Cleeve. Their help was the absolute minimum.

I twirled the axe, and then got to work.

It was much easier facing off against the gut beasts than most of the other opponents I’d encountered. They were simple-minded, charging at the first thing they saw. A simple side-step and a chop, and their head would come off. Not for everyone, sure, but for those of us who had the strength to do it, it was almost like splitting wood.

Sidestep, chop, reset, repeat.

Over and over again, I swung the axe and killed, green blood forming puddles, then pools, then finally falling over the side in a disgusting river. Their bodies became vile obstacles to me and my attackers.

But they kept coming, so I kept fighting. Others took breaks, stepping back behind shield walls or running down the stairs to get a moment’s reprieve. Even Nikolai went to stand with Cleeve and the boys. Not me, though. I soldiered on. I used that damn earned ability, and I made sure everyone there knew I could fight as long as there was need.

There was a great and piteous sound as the gothferox fell to the ground, dead, its last spasms throwing off scores of gut beasts into the depths below.

The remaining gut beasts were quickly dispatched with, though a few managed to beat a hasty retreat, climbing down the cliff face as easily as they had run on the land.

I stood there, heart hammering, but feeling good. Like I could go for another twelve hours or so. I couldn’t really see much of anything towards the city, as there were gut beast corpses piled high all around me. It was open in the other direction though, so I walked to the edge and looked out over the Emerald Sea. It was stunning. Truly, I’d never seen anything like it. To be standing level with the tops of trees reaching out as far as I could see. I could see movement here and there. Maybe from the wind, maybe from some other behemoth down below.

A chime rang out in my head, and a notification popped up, one of those thingies that couldn’t easily be ignored.

* * *

Congratulations. Participating in the defense of Osterstadt has risen your standing in the city’s eyes. You are now considered ‘indifferent’ to the citizens as a whole. In addition, you have been rewarded 1250 XP for your actions, as well as any loot you are able to secure from the corpses. Go to.

* * *

I kind of felt like I’d done more work than that, but when I peeked at some of the other notifications, I saw I’d been rewarded XP for my individual gut beast slayings. Fair dinkum, as my Australian circus friends would say.

Off to one side, water poured out of a channel in the wall. I hadn’t noticed a river running through the city. Maybe the whole thing had been paved over in some capacity.

A bell rang out behind me. On the other side of the waterfall, there were cranes dropping elevators down to the ground, while others were lifting things up. Huge pieces of trees were brought up, and the lumberjacks returned to work.

Osterstadt was logging the Emerald Sea.

Chapter Forty-Six

“You fight well,” came a thick voice as a hand clapped me on the shoulder.

I kept axe in hand as I turned to see who was speaking.

A muscular man with a large but neat mustache stood there with a smile on his face. He wore the Legion uniform, but had the flashy helm denoting him as an officer or something important like that.

“Thank you,” I said.

“New to the city, are you?”

“I am.”

He tapped his temple. “Got a mind for faces. Have yet to catch yours around,” he said, extending his hand. “Lieutenant Darby Abington at your service.”

I clasped wrists with the man. “Montana Coggeshall.”

“Coggeshall? Any relation to Benedict Coggeshall?”

“Yeah, actually,” I said, still feeling a bit weird about the whole adoption thing. “Technically, he’s my father now.”

Darby blinked, a bit shocked, and looked me up and down. “Never in a million years would I have guessed that. Tell me, is he in Osterstadt?”

“He’s right over there,” I said, pointing towards where he’d been last.

“Capital,” Darby said, and dashed off.

I looked back out to sea, and watched a ripple heading towards Osterstadt, wondering if another Gothferox was on the way.

“Mind if’n I loot these?” came a small voice behind me.

Again, I turned to see who’d snuck up on me. A deadly foe this time: a small boy.

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” I asked.

“You caught me tryin’ to cut your purse.”

“Awesome. Yeah, sure, loot away. Just give me half.”

The kid smiled big. He whipped out a small knife and hopped to work. He jammed the knife into a wound, and used it to half-cut, half-pry the chitin apart. He stacked the pieces next to himself, and when he had access to the inside, he reached his hand in and fished around for a moment.

It was nasty work, but he came out with a handful of stones. He peered at them, a huge smile spreading across his face, and held them out to me. They were covered in blood, so I couldn’t tell what I was looking at, beyond rocks.

“What are they?” I asked.

“We call ‘em magic beans,” the boy replied. “Use ‘em for enchanting things, so the Magicians Circle pays us for ‘em. Gut beasts always have some in them.”

“Wait, really?”

He nodded.

“Okay then,” I said, “let’s loot!”

I started pulling the bodies down, chopping big rents into their abdomens. The boy followed behind and did the dirty work of reaching in and extracting the magic beans. We pushed the remains behind us, working towards the city. By himself, it’d taken nearly five minutes to get the first creature looted. With me, we were down to a minute.

As the piles of bodies lessened, I could see that virtually everyone was busy looting. Or scavenging. There were definitely plenty of people coming and taking the various fleshy bits of the gut beasts and putting them on carts. I had a sneaking suspicion there’d be plenty of Gut Beast Stew on menus in no time. I sincerely hoped it tasted better than it smelled.

The gothferox was surrounded by the Legion and it was being pulled apart by men in uniform. To the victor, it would appear, go the spoils.

Cleeve was surrounded by Legionnaires, all happily talking to him. Nikolai and the Lutra stood nearby. I noticed the arresting soldiers were busy trying to get through the crowds, heading towards my father.

There was definitely another fight about to break out.

I took a moment for one last glance out at the Emerald Sea. The ripple I’d been watching was gone.

“Done,” the kid said, standing proudly over the last corpse around me. He held out both hands, nearly overflowing with the little stones. Or magic beans. “Yours.”

I opened up a small pouch, and let the kid pour them in, then dropped it into the bag of holding, and made a mental note to learn me some enchanting.

“Thanks, kid,” I said.

“What about the armor?” he asked.

“The chitin?” I asked.

The kid looked confused.

“The stuff on the outside of the gut beasts?” I asked.

“Yes, their armor.”

“All yours, kid.”

He smiled, and darted off.

I walked over to Cleeve, getting there just as Cape Two and the rest of his assholes arrived.

“Benedict Coggeshall,” Godfrey Duhamel said, looking quite splendid in his cape, notably untouched by any of the gore around, “you are under arrest.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

The Legion turned almost at once, and there was a face-off.

“On what grounds?” Cleeve asked.

“You want to do this in again? After I already explained everything you?” Godfrey replied.

“I do. I would like to hear you explain it here, in the public forum.”

Godfrey frowned and looked at all the people watching him. He wasn’t prepared to do this out in the open.

“The Emperor has questions for you,” Godfrey said.

“No, he does not,” Cleeve responded. “I can assure I am currently engaged on a mission directly from the Emperor. Should I guess that your orders came from the Emperor’s brother?”

“While the Emperor is convalescing, his brother is in charge.”

“That is not how the Empire works, Godfrey—”

“Do not take a familiar tone with me, Coggeshall. Just because you were once with the Legion, you are no longer. Now you are a mere citizen. I will have you know that I—”

“Hey,” I shouted, but a single glare from Cleeve stopped me. I was going to point out that Cleeve was a duke, but apparently that wasn’t something Cleeve wanted to make public just yet.

“I may be but a citizen,” Cleeve replied, “but as a citizen, I am afforded certain rights, and undue arrest is one of those. I have committed no crimes, and if the Emperor, or his brother, wish to speak to me, they would need to go through the proper channels. Which, in the Imperial City of Osterstadt, is the Viceroy. So if you would kindly retrieve Léon Glaton for me, and have him tell me I am to surrender myself to you in order that I may be questioned by Valamir in his attempt to snake the crown out from under his brother, I will do so.”

“Slander!” seethed Godfrey. Cries of outrage came from his men. “Slandering the crown is an offense punishable by arrest. I demand you surrender yourself to me at once.”

“Demand away.”

Godfrey’s face turned red as impotent rage swarmed over him.

“It remains that this great city is under the power of the Viceroy, so it matters little what you demand.”

Godfrey ripped his sword out from his scabbard, which caused the rest of his men to pull out their weapons.

The Legion, in return, formed ranks. They slammed their shields to the ground, putting up a wall between Cleeve and Godfrey.

“I believe,” said the lieutenant, “we will wait for the Viceroy to adjudicate the matter.”

“We all know that dandy is too busy chasing around the footmen in the Imperial House to do anything—”

“Yo,” I shouted. “Stop maligning a good man and shut your cowardly damn mouth!”

All eyes turned towards me, and Godfrey’s eyes bulged with rage as he saw me.

“You dare speak to me like that? You a—”

“Not only do I dare,” I said, pushing through the crowd, “I relish the opportunity to put a jackbooted prima donna masquerading at being a soldier in his place. Which, judging from what we saw here, is hiding behind a bunch of real soldiers.”

He opened his mouth a time or two as his face achieved a whole new level of red, somewhere in the neighborhood of vermillion. Veins all over his neck and face looked in real danger of bursting.

“For this, I will have your head!” he shouted, spittle flying out of his mouth. “If only I could challenge you to a duel. Instead, you will suffer in the dungeons!”

“A duel? Why can’t you challenge me?”

“Because you are a low-born piece of trash, and duels are for nobles.”

His soldiers moved towards me, and, unlike for Cleeve, the Legion didn’t appear interested in interfering.

“I’m a ducal heir, assbutt,” I said.

Everyone stopped.

“You want a duel?” I continued, “Sounds peachy to me. Let’s do this right here, right now. No hiding down on the stairs while the real soldiers fight.”

I knew I was egging him on a little more than I should have, but I was trying to get him riled up and stupid. Hoping Cleeve would take the opportunity to slip away.

“A duel it is,” Godfrey said. “Right now.”

He pulled out his sword, gave two swishes through the air, and said, “I challenge you to a formal duel under Imperial Rules and the Eyes of the Gods.”

* * *

You have been challenged to a DUEL by Godfrey Duhamel (lvl 17 Noble). As you have been challenged, you are permitted to set the terms. What are the terms?

* * *

Immediately Nikolai was at my shoulder.

“What exactly have you done, whelp?” he whispered.

“Giving Cleeve time to slip out of here.”

“You are a master of being an idiot. You think he will simply walk away while his heir duels a man who does nothing but duel?”

“You know him?”

“He has spent his worthless life in the capital, dueling to steal titles and enrich himself.”

“You can take stuff—”

“What is the hold-up?” Godfrey shouted.

“I am his second,” Nikolai snapped loudly. “And as such, I am conferring with my first.”

Godfrey angrily swished his sword through the air.

“Have you set the terms yet?” Nikolai asked, back to talking quietly just to me.

“No,” I replied.

“Make them so onerous he will not accept.”

“Like what?”

“Say he must give up all his titles, all he is heir to, all his wealth, all his property, and whatever spells he has acquired.”

“Sure.”

I went into the menu, and put together the terms Nikolai specified, then added in a “not to the death but either party may surrender at any time” for good measure. Then I selected: Yes.

His eyes went a bit blank as he read over things. Then, he gave me a sickly smile.

“Acceptable,” he said.

* * *

The Duel has been accepted. It begins… now.

* * *

The man moved with lightning quickness, darting at me with his thin sword.

I dodged to the left. The blade skipped along my leather armor and sliced through my inner arm. I hissed with pain, but got my axe up and ready.

Godfrey laughed at me. “Only a savage fights with an axe.”

I hadn’t exactly planned to fight with the axe. I figured I’d have had a moment to re-arm. I was totally unprepared.

The crowd moved quickly to get out of our way and form a rough circle around us.

“Maybe,” I replied, “but only a coward hides when an entire town needs saving.”

He yelled, and attacked.

Motherfucker moved fast, I’ll give him that.

His blade feigned towards my midsection, so I brought the handle of the axe over to block it. But by the time I was set, his blade was going straight for my face.

A quick shift, and he merely grazed my scalp. But I could feel blood start to pour out.

Godfrey didn’t let up, his little sword coming at me, darting this way and that. I barely kept up with him until I managed to get a deflection off my axe head, and then I shot a quick jab out that rocked his head back. For a heartbeat, he seemed genuinely stunned that I’d hit him, but he managed to dance back a few steps before I could grab him or even get the axe moving around for a swing.

Godfrey felt at his nose, and seemed surprised to have blood come off on his hand. It was totally going to stain the lace around his sleeves.

“You insolent prick! You have bloodied me.”

“Weird,” I said, lazily leaning on the axe, “that’s what your sister said to me last night.”

Definitely got a few oohs from the audience for that one.

Again, his rage got the better of him, and he made a big attack. I had a bit of a plan going, so I made a swing, and he barely parried the blow, his blade looking as if was about to break in the attempt. But he had good steel, and so even though the blade bent, it snapped right back, and so did he. He pushed his sword, using the hand guard to rotate it around the axe handle, and sliced into my side.

I snapped my hand down and grabbed his blade, holding it tight. His eyes went wide as he struggled to pull the sword free. It should’ve been impossible, but I had just enough hand-strength to bend the blade and give myself a hand hold.

One-armed, I swung the axe around, angling down. It rang like a bell as it hit the stones.

Godfrey laughed one sharp bark, his breath garlicky and fetid.

Then, I hooked his foot with the axe head, and pulled back sharply while head-butting him.

He fell backward to the ground, leaving his sword in my hand.

I pulled it out of my body, and threw it far to the side. Then I set the axe blade at his throat, my foot on his chest.

“Do you yield?” I asked.

For a heartbeat, I thought he was going to force me to kill him, but just as I lifted the axe to cleave him in twain, he bunched his face in tight and shouted, “I YIELD.”

I heard a very clear bell ringing out in my head.

* * *

You have won your duel. All titles of Godfrey Duhamel have been transferred to their previous owners, save those who no longer exist. All owned property has been transferred to you. All known wealth has been transferred to you.

* * *

Congratulations! You are now the Count of Duhamel.

* * *

Congratulations! You are now the Count of Helgand.

* * *

Congratulations! You are now the Count of Dunnismeer.

* * *

Congratulations! You are now heir to the dukedom Old Lattimoore.

* * *

There was a heavy silence over the place, especially amongst the asshole portion of the crowd. They’d just seen their top dog get his ass handed to him.

I smiled at Nikolai.

“Guess I won,” I said.

“Guess you did,” Nikolai replied.

Cleeve walked over to me, and clapped me on the back. “Nicely done,” he said.

I gave a slight bow of my head.

Godfrey stood up, rage and embarrassment fighting for control of his face. His hands trembled. I could tell it took all his control to not kill me where I stood. Or at least try.

“Wow,” I said, “now you’re a level 17 noble with no titles. So, I guess, nothing.”

He stared at me. Then at Nikolai. Then at Cleeve.

“I may have nothing at the moment,” he said. “But that merely means I have nothing to lose.”

He lashed out with a dagger I hadn’t even seen on him. Faster than I could react, he drove it deep into Cleeve’s eye, all the way through my adopted father’s head, and out the back of his skull.

Nikolai screamed in rage, and while I was still getting my axe into motion, Nikolai sliced Godfrey in two.

* * *

Congratulations, you are now Duke of Coggeshall.

* * *

Fuck.

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DUNGEON MAULING

and continue Montana’s adventures!