by Eric Ugland
“I have never done it.”
“Sure, but you must know how.”
“No. I have no experience with bags of holding. This is only the second I have seen and the first I have been able to examine.”
“Do you wizards—”
“Mancers.”
“Right, mancers, do you guys have some sort of power that lets you see the, like, instruction manual on magical items?”
“Perchance, if the enchanter enchanted the item with a manual of some sort, I suppose it might be possible for me to read some sort of magical manual. Might I look at the bag again?”
I held it out to him, and he took it reverently. He set the knapsack on the ground and kneeled in front of it. Eyes closed, he extended his left hand to the knapsack and pulled a little something from a pouch on his waist with his right hand. He dropped some dust in the air while saying something under his breath, and I saw glowing runes flit out of his hands and around the bag.
“I can read the full description,” he said. “It is a most impressive piece. However, there are no more guidelines that I can see that you cannot. Or have not. Perhaps you can recall what was said to you when you purchased this bag?”
“It was a gift.”
“Can we speak to the gifter? I would be most happy to know the name of whomever was capable of such an item.”
“Kinda secret,” I said. “I promised.”
“Ah,” Tarryn said. “In that case, I have little to offer you, my lord.”
“I have heard of a few methods,” Nikolai said. “None of which are exactly perfect.”
“Any involve destroying the bag?” I asked.
“Most.”
“How about we try the one where we don’t break the most valuable thing we, as a dukedom, own?”
“You turn it upside down, open it up, and order it to empty.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “There’s no way that any wizard—”
“Mancer,” Tarryn corrected with just a hint of irritation.
“Sure, that anyone would make that how you empty a bag of holding.”
“Are you unwilling to try?” Nikolai asked. “It is not like it will be the first time you have done something and looked ridiculous. Your highness.”
“Keep this up, and you’re going to be the next court jester for Coggeshall Hall.”
He frowned at me. I think he was trying to come up with a retort, but I didn’t want to let him. So I turned the bag over, opened it up, and gave it a little shake for good measure.
“Empty,” I said.
And it did.
Chapter 44
Shit poured out of the bag. As I held onto the strap of the bag, and more and more shit poured out, I started to go up. The pile of stuff I’d shoved into the bag got bigger and bigger until it was more than a little startling.
And then, just as quickly as it had started, it was done. The great pile of stuff was below me, I was standing on boxes and crates and wood, my arm stretched out, holding the strap of the bag.
I stumbled and fell down until I got to ground level, and stepped away from the treasure hoard. It looked very much the picture I had in my head of a dragon’s hoard. Gold coins spilling out of chests, gems sparkling in the sunlight, glittering armor, glowing swords and maces, it was truly breathtaking. A gamers’ dream. And then there were all the other things, the actually important things, crates and barrels of food, literal tons of wood and metal for construction purposes. All this stuff that we needed buried under gold. Well, gold and treasure.
Ragnar shrieked with glee and ran to the pile, grabbing handfuls of gold and shoving it into his pouches.
“Hey,” I said, “that’s not, uh, that’s the duke’s treasury.”
“I have yet to be paid—” Ragnar started.
Nikolai cuffed the lutra, and Ragnar looked suitably chagrined. “Being in the hirð is a position of honor, not gold.”
“I’ve heard it both ways,” Ragnar said.
Nikolai shot Ragnar the glare he normally reserved for me. I laughed.
Ragnar glared at me.
“Let’s all relax a moment,” I said, “there’s plenty of gold to go around.”
“This is barely a drop in the bucket,” Nikolai replied. “All those people over there, eating a shitty lunch because you couldn’t be bothered remembering what was in this damn bag, they are expecting to be paid. All the other souls coming here will require gold. Soldiers to man the walls, farmers to till the fields, all the workers who are going to make this a safehold, they need gold. This is a pittance. And,” he walked over and picked up a coin, looking it over, “this is not even of the realm. You will need to find collectors to buy this. Or we must melt it down, sell it as ingots.”
“Yeah, there is a lot of, what, ancient treasure.”
I pulled a heavy chest off the pile and popped it open. Bright white metal coins were filled to the brim. Platinum. But, like the gold, it was from another place and another time. And it wasn’t anything local merchants would likely take. Though, it made me curious. Why not? Was a gold coin from Mahrduhm fundamentally different than a gold coin from the Empire? Had the Empire pushed beyond the traditional gold standard? But then again, who was I to upset the economic modality of the Empire? Especially if I was going to be a member of the aristocracy, I would need to keep the status quo at least for a little while.
“I think,” I said, looking at the various coins I could see, “we don’t exactly have much in the way of imperial currency.”
“That seems to be the case,” Nikolai said. “Which presents a rather serious problem, as we will need to be buying quite a bit of food in the very near future. Or we will face starvation.”
“So let’s find some in the pile. Construction shit off to one side, gold in that pile there, weapons in a third, armor in a fourth—”
Ragnar held up a half-eaten mostly rotten steak. “And this?”
“Uh, the fifth pile, other?”
It was a long and arduous process, at no point of which did I enjoy. It was the collecting and the finding that was fun, but the sorting? That forced me come to terms with the fact that my loot-taking tended more towards hoarding and not quite as strongly towards gathering actual useful items. We had plenty of rusted swords, enough to outfit a garrison of skeletons. More chainmail that had fallen apart or been broken apart than any that was whole. Again, perfect for my army of the undead. Broken pieces of wood, torn curtains, a mattress leaking feathers — all of this stuff that would have been perfect for a junkyard dump was now my mess to deal with.
But there was also a ton of treasure. Likely more than a ton, if we’re speaking literally. The Dungeon of the Ancients had trunks and chests and barrels full of gold and platinum. Huge piles of gems and jewels. Rings galore.
Tarryn, for his part, was frantically casting identification spells over nearly everything he could find. Or that we would bring to him. We had a small, but growing, pile of magical items. Some useful, like a ring of protection +10, and some not, like a stone of level checking.
I let Nikolai and Tarryn handle the loot, while the otters and I started hauling all the lumber, wagon parts, and useful items back through the woods over to the main camp.
Essie had apparently woken for a short time and taken a bit of food. Lee had been sketching things out in the dirt — places to put homes. Buildings. A mill near the river, a road from the tunnel to the mill. Spots for guard towers and walls. He was basically drawing the entire city, in life size, in the dirt.
I walked the ‘streets’ and tried to visualize what he had planned.
The battenti and the dwarves had taken the lead on the first and most important structure: a long house for everyone to sleep in. We needed shelter and protection before anything else.
Mercy was standing in the area where Lee had planned the structure, and she was pulling water out of the ground. Someone brought her an empty barrel, and she just transferred the water from the ground and into it. I grabbed a ha
ndful and, after looking at her and getting a nod, I brought it to my mouth. Distilled water. Pure and clean. Having a hydromancer was useful.
“Can you, I mean, is this free from—” I started.
She smiled at me, confident for the first time. “It is pure. It is a basic spell we learn very early, how to purify water. To remove contaminants of all kinds.”
“What happens to the contaminants?” I asked.
She frowned, and looked at the ground. “I suppose they stay in the ground.”
“What if you pull water from a river? Do you think you could purify the river and just, like, pull the ‘contaminants’ out?”
“It might work. I have never heard of it being done, but we could experiment.”
I smiled at her. “Let’s do that. I mean, not now. Plenty to do at the moment, but it could become useful later.”
She nodded, and went back to work.
As did I. The beast of burden.
The main loot pile was shrinking while the other piles were growing. But there was still quite a bit to go through. Eventually, though, just as night was coming close, it was done. It was all sorted out. And it was quite the haul. Thousands and thousands and thousands of gold pieces. Thousands of platinum. The silver was uncountable. Diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, black gems and multi-colored stones, all by the dozens. And yet, a paltry 228 gold in imperial coinage.
There were seventeen magical swords, twenty magical axes, one magical mace, five magical hammers, and twelve magical spears. Nothing really that impressive. Mostly it was just a slight bonus to damage or durability. One of the spears did double damage against goblinoids, so that was pretty cool. We had enough jewelry to not only open a store but keep it stocked for generations. There were tons of minor magical rings, necklaces, amulets, bracelets, crowns, cloaks, and armor. Again, nothing grand or fantastic.
But, there were a few really impressive items.
A suit of full plate that provided almost total immunity to heat and fire, though it did have a weakness to cold and ice. It was also currently sized for someone along the lines of a dwarf.
A small booklet called Efeus’s Guide to Follicular Perfection which had a number of drawings indicating mustaches and beards. It could, according to Tarryn at least, make that facial hair sprout from the face of anyone willing once per day. Pretty cool, to me at least.
A quiver full of arrows of slaying. 16 arrows, each one for a different creature, and each one offering a substantial damage bonus towards that creature.
The Brazier of Infinite Imps, which, when lit, spawned some imps. And apparently, more were spawned every morning. Not sure the use of that, but it was pretty cool.
The Blaze of Glory, a platinum torch that had a rather impressive effect. If someone willingly sacrifices themselves to the torch, it explodes outward doing one point of damage for every two points of XP. Certainly a way to go.
The Book of Monster Recipes, which had a ton of recipes detailing how to cook up bits of monsters and other magical creatures and make foods that provided a host of magical effects, some good, some bad.
Spider Climbing boots which allowed you to walk up walls.
Seventeen magic beans said to grow giant plants in practically no time.
A magic quill requiring no ink to write with.
The Ring of MonaHan, a ring that allows you to see what’s on the side of any solid object.
And while it was all so cool, and I could already see all my hirð members angling for who got to take what, there was definitely a major problem.
We needed money.
Chapter 45
I let my hirðmen take what they wanted from the pile of magic gear. Nothing really struck me as super useful as of yet. Except the Blaze of Glory. That might be something to use in the future, if everything else was falling apart. It made me wonder how it would affect me. Would I lose all my hitpoints or would I just respawn as normal? If the latter, that made the torch a nearly game-breaking weapon. Something to think about.
After the gear had been apportioned out, I hurriedly scooped all the non-Empire gold and treasure into the bag. We needed to put together a treasury of sorts to hold the wealth, but until then, the best spot was still the bag of holding.
Then we all pitched in with the building, following the advice of the elder battenti who stood on a rock with his pipe and directed us. Apparently, he was a mid-level architect with several applicable skills and an ability called Visualize that would let him project a blueprint of sorts for up to ten people at a time, so we could see exactly where we needed to put the next piece of, well, whatever. We could see exactly where the nail or screw needed to go, how to hang the hinge so it would be perfect. It was a very interesting way of building things, and made the building go together exceptionally quick. It wasn’t the prettiest dwelling, but just as it was getting dark, we put the door onto the first home. Everyone got inside and claimed a sleeping spot, then promptly headed back outside to stand around the fire and await food.
I stood back from the group, not bothering to take a sleeping spot. I didn’t really sleep, so it’s not like I needed one. Also, I still got looks from everyone, and I just didn’t feel comfortable being so close. I knew they were still afraid of me, and though Fritz had some measure of welcome amongst the group, it appeared that the opening of arms to him hadn’t extended to me. I watched the interactions happen, and I took stock of the people and who they were.
The main crew, my council, were moving around and talking to everyone. Except Tarryn. He was on the opposite side of the large fire than myself, also standing apart. Essie was leaning against a log, half-awake. She’d barely been able to move after whatever it was she’d done with the tunnel. A tunnel, mind you, that wasn’t yet there. So far it was, at least to anyone looking, merely a marking on either side of a mountain.
The dwarven families were large, which meant that dwarves were everywhere. And they seemed to be pretty happy about things. Amongst that group, we had three miners, a blacksmith, a metallurgist, two cooks, and a butcher. Plus, several kids ranging from infant to, uh, still small. I wasn’t exactly great guessing the age of kids. Especially dwarven ones.
The battenti were almost as numerous as the dwarves, and seemed to be subsuming everyone into their clan. They also had cooks, and it seemed a friendly rivalry was starting between the battenti and the dwarves over who would make the best meals. Lanfrank, our architect, was busy talking with Lee, eating while they walked the layout of the town, pointing out various issues. There was a tinkerer, whatever that might be, among the Nightdelvers clan, as well as two miners, one jeweler, a baker, and a rope-maker.
And, smiling and making small talk amongst the group, the woch. The rock man sort of thing, Conall, had some levels in carpentry and some in masonry. We had the legendary carpenter, Guy Gambrill, who was slowly warming to the fact that other races were people too. His wife and kids were charming though, and mostly made up for his assholic behavior.
Rebecca was a cook and Isaac was a barman, but he had a whole host of skills geared towards farming and animal husbandry. He was our only farmer at present.
Zoey was an accomplished blacksmith, and it made me rage that she’d been forced to live in such abject poverty. Her frame was filling out with regular meals, as was Mouse and her daughter, Lily. Mouse had a few, uh, questionable skills, but he was taking delight in the outside world, so I figured we could push him towards rangering. Lily was just happy running around with all the other kids.
Standing back, I liked what I saw. I immediately worried what was going to befall this group of people, considering what this world liked to throw around.
Chapter 46
The following day, I woke before anyone else, and I ran through all the various fighting forms I could think of. I wanted to limber my body up and start working out again. I needed to get better at fighting and to stop relying so hard on my strength to overpower opponents. As the sun came over the mountains, it lit up the world aro
und me, and I was struck once more by how beautiful everything was, minus the eyesore that was our long house. It was a ramshackle sort of structure built out of a wide variety of materials, none of which went together particularly well.
I got the lutra out of bed, set them up as watch outside the house, and then I grabbed an axe and headed into the woods. We needed trees. Lots of them.
As I moved away from the river, heading west into the valley, the trees were bigger and thicker. I hiked about twenty minutes and found a copse of trees on relative flat land, and then I started in.
I unleashed the rage inside me and directed all of it towards the trees. The axe whistled through the air and slammed into the tree, going nearly halfway in.
Slam.
Slam.
Slam.
Slam.
Trees were falling every third or forth swing, and I was just moving my way through the forest, creating something akin to a path of stumps. I wasn’t clearcutting, though I could have. We needed it for farmland, unless we wanted to make the farms on the other side of the lake in the grasslands there. But that seemed like quite the trek, at least at this stage of the game. I wanted everyone to be close enough to the central camp to be protected.
And that thought reminded me that protection was necessary here, and I got angry all over again, and I took it out on the poor trees.
They fell with heavy booms, crashing to the ground and sending up showers of needles and dirt. I just kept going and going, falling into a something along the lines of a zen state along the way. Which was a problem, because I could easily lose track of time doing such activities, since I didn’t get tired.
So, when I finally blinked and looked around, I had climbed to the crest of a ridge, and I saw another river heading to the west out of another, smaller lake. It was all a bit lower down than where we were, almost as if there’d been a fault-line at one point, and the ground had broken along it, one side dropping down a good hundred-plus feet. But that barrier prevented the water from flowing in the same direction which resulted in two rivers so close together. Hell, two lakes. But the bigger surprise was what I saw as I looked along the river. Sure, there was the telltale mist of another large waterfall, but beyond it was the verdant and endless green of the Emerald Sea.
