Ash. The Legends of the Nameless World. Progression Gamelit Story

by Kirill Klevanski

  “All right, people,” she said when they found themselves among the three-story houses of the human quarter. “Blackbeard, you take Ash and go shopping, you know what we need,” she instructed and tossed him a heavy leather purse. Blackbeard caught it on the fly and put it in his shirt. Most people wore their purses on their belts, but this was quite risky as pickpockets would simply cut them off without you noticing and run away with your coin. So, it was better to hang it around your neck or hide it in some secret pocket.

  “If you need us, we’ll be at the Bent Horseshoe.”

  “Try not to drink all the ale this time, all right?” Blackbeard was a shrewd and efficient man, but he haggled like a miserly dwarf.

  “We make no promises. But we’ll save you some bread.”

  “Good luck!” Alice waved her hand and the four of them disappeared around the corner, leaving Blackbeard and Ash in the middle of the avenue. The shield bearer looked at the young mage, who was struggling to untangle his fingers.

  “It could’ve been worse... I could’ve been stuck with Lari,” Blackbeard thought and turned to Ash. “Let’s go. It’s time to make the life of Zadastra’s merchants a living hell.”

  “Think they can help me untangle my fingers?” Ash asked, still struggling. He was getting red in the face from all the tugging, but he wasn’t getting anywhere despite his best efforts.

  Blackbeard chuckled and headed to the elven quarter as theirs was the closest. It was also the most expensive, but the coin was worth their quality goods.

  Chapter 28

  B y the time they had reached their destination, Ash had managed to fix his little problem. Had his fingers not been red and trembling, one wouldn’t be able to guess that anything had gone wrong. But what worried the young mage more than his pained knuckles was the presence of lovely ladies dressed in even lovelier skirts. He had an urge to take a peek under them, but taking into account that the hems reached the ground and that he was mounted on Guido’s back, such a task seemed impossible.

  “Blackbeard, psst! Blackbeard, psst!” he uttered in what he thought was a whisper but was actually a loud shout.

  “What is it?” the shield bearer turned. “I’m trying to find the shop we need...”

  “Look, look!” Ash insisted and struck the cobblestone with his staff, making several ladies cry out in surprise and horror as they tried to tame their suddenly animated skirts. Despite their efforts, the colorful cloths rose to their hips, revealing slender legs and puffy undergarments.

  Blackbeard, blushing a deep red, noisily swallowed a lump that had gotten stuck in his throat. He wanted to look away, he knew that he should, but he couldn’t. In all the thirteen kingdoms, there was no one who could come close to the charm of the elven ladies.

  “You sure know some useful Words,” he drawled.

  “I can make the tops move, too! Look!”

  Blackbeard, eyes bulging, almost broke his horse’s neck in an attempt to turn it around and stop the mage. Luckily for the lovely ladies of Zadastra’s elven quarter, he managed to reach him in time and stop him from hitting the ground with his staff again.

  “Do you want to get us both killed?!” he whined; wiping sweat off his forehead. “They’ll turn us into frogs!”

  “Really? There are warlocks here then?” Ash whispered, leaning closer to Blackbeard and looking around as if seeking out conspirators.

  Glad that Lari wasn’t here to stick a bread bun into his mouth, Blackbeard cursed so hard that he’d make even the seasoned sailors blush. “No! But the guards just might shoot us where we stand!”

  The young mage cast a glance at the guards walking around the place and nodded, admitting that he was wrong. But by the Heavens, how badly he wanted to take a peek under the skirt of the lady standing by the temple’s door. Her white skin and rosy cheeks were simply driving him mad.

  “A shame,” he sighed, pouting like a child who had his toy taken away. “First they ban me from the Crystal Forest, and now you threaten me with the guards.”

  “Banned from the Crystal Forest, you say?” Blackbeard burst out laughing. “I like a good story, lad, but don’t be so obvious about your lies.”

  “I’m not lying!”

  “Of course, of course. Let’s go, greatest mage that the Continent has ever seen.”

  “Damn right I am!”

  Blackbeard didn’t say anything. He knew that the Crystal Forest, which was hidden deep among the mountain ranges, was a closed-off area. Those who could find their way to it and live to tell the tale would have songs sang about them and festivals held in their honor. Ash, who had no nickname nor any special achievements tied to his name, could never have gone there.

  Behind one of the residential buildings, whose windows were lost in the dense, dark green canopy, was the door of the shop they needed. Grown from a magical oak tree, it attracted the attention of all the passersby. A sign with a scroll and a flask was swaying in the wind, as inviting as that hanging above an inn.

  They dismounted and went inside. The bell above the door chimed merrily, and the red-eyed, albino crow perched in the far corner croaked in greeting. Behind the counter, heaving under the weight of many books, scrolls, vials, and flasks, was a tall, green-haired elf with eyes that spoke of hundreds of years of experience in his trade.

  “Aheo,” Ash greeted, making the man wince.

  “By the Forest, never speak our language again,” he said in a raspy voice. So much about the rumors that all elves spoke with the elegance of the wind. “Such horrid pronunciation is worthy of a comedy act.”

  “Maybe you could teach me how to speak it better?” Ash said, beaming with enthusiasm.

  Blackbeard kicked him in the shin and approached the counter.

  “What’re you up to, Rhea?” he asked.

  “Attending the queen’s royal tea party. Are you blind, Black? I’m running a business!”

  “All right, all right...” Blackbeard raised his hands and smirked. “How’s Ogre?”

  The three of them turned to the raven. The bird croaked and sank its beak into a chunk of bloody meat.

  “And that’s—”

  “—beef,” Rhea snapped.

  “Just beef,” Ash mumbled to himself but still took a couple of steps back.

  “What do you need, you bearded nuisance?”

  “Same as always, you pointy-eared twat.” Taking out a long list, Blackbeard ran his gaze over the crossed-out items and stopped at those that they didn’t dare buy in any human kingdom. “I need... Two ounces of the standard solution, four boxes of twenty vials of Living Water, one and a half-ounce each... Six standards, three-ounce vials of the Traveler’s Potion... And one set of mage potions...” He looked at Ash who was making faces in the mirror. “...make those half an ounce.”

  Rhea was swiftly taking the needed items off the shelves and from the storage, packing them neatly into marked boxes and placing them on the counter. The vials he’d summon from the further corners of the shop would annoy Ogre whenever they passed by him, making him flutter his wings.

  “Anything else?” Rhea asked, writing down the numbers.

  “That’d be all.”

  “Five times more than usual... Going far, are you?”

  Blackbeard waved his hand.

  “You know Mary... Always scheming something...”

  “Yeah, yeah... Anything else?”

  “Eerm... That’s all for potions... I also need... A detailed map of the Lurka Marshes and the Rezaliks mountain chain. And scrolls with spells against poison... I need... Thirty of those.”

  “The little Alice still hasn’t mastered these spells?”

  “Never had the time,” Blackbeard replied. “It’d be best to send her to a temple to learn, but Mary is against it.”

  “Sounds like her,” Rhea responded with a nod. “I’ll sell you the maps at the regular price, but the scrolls will be one silver a piece.”

  “By the Gods! Who says such awful things to their friends? Knock it
down twenty coppers and we have a deal.”

  “How about twenty-one?” Rhea asked with a sly grin.

  “Oh, you little weasel, you know that one silver is twenty-one copper. So, no discount?”

  “You have to understand that the roads have eroded and that the supply is limited. Demand is growing, but the supply can’t keep up.”

  “Fine fine... A silver each.”

  Rhea nodded contentedly, moving the beads on the abacus. “Anything else?”

  “Enchanted arrows.”

  “You’re still with that blind man you call an archer? One who wouldn’t be able to hit a target even if it was in front of him?” the elf asked with a note of poison in his voice. “He’ll ruin you!”

  Blackbeard grinned. “What? Do I detect jealousy in your voice? Still haven’t forgiven him from beating you at the tournament?”

  “Ha! He got lucky! Our rangers had too much ale that day!”

  “Ha! Like it’s our problem that you ninnies can’t handle booze! Now, we need fifty adamantium-tipped arrows.”

  The silence that ensued made Ash turn his head to see if the two were alive. The elf’s ears quivered slightly, a sign of surprise among their kin.

  “Are you going after demons? Maybe you could spike their tea, too... Fifty adamantium arrows... I’ll give you a bigger discount than usual since I’m sure that you don’t have enough coin to cover all this...”

  Staring at the elf, Blackbeard tossed the purse that Mary had given him onto the counter. Golden coins spilled from the loosely tied strings. Rhea had never seen that many gold coins on his counter before. Such a sum belonged in a bank!

  “All right... I’ll give you a discount, as I said. Five gold for the arrows. If you pay now then... Let’s see... Another gold for the potions... Thirty gold here... Seven silver there... Twelve copper...”

  “Slow down, you pointy-eared maniac...Do you want to bargain? I’ll show you how to bargain!”

  Mimicking the father of the bride-to-be haggling for her dowry, Blackbeard spent almost half an hour bargaining with Rhea. The elf responded with figures and words that Ash didn’t understand, but none of that frightened his friend. In the end, Blackbeard managed to reduce the price by one and half gold. The two sealed the deal with a handshake.

  With a wave of his staff, Rhea sent the goods flying to the door and out into the street, whishing the two a smooth road. Blackbeard responded with a traditional elven parting phrase that didn’t have a literal translation, making the elf grimace. In his opinion, the way other people pronounced their language sounded worse than the scream of a dying magpie.

  Chapter 29

  “H ow are we going to carry all this?” Ash asked, looking at the heavy boxes and long tubes, paying special attention to the iron chest with a big lock in which the arrows were stored. Enchanted arrows with adamantium tips were the dream of any hunter and archer. They could break through heavy armor and demon scales. It was probably the best thing to have on your travel. If you could afford such a luxury, that is. Rare were units, let alone individuals, who could brag about owning such a thing.

  “You’re a mage,” Blackbeard responded and mounted his horse. “Think a little.”

  Ash stroked his imaginary beard, considered the situation, and struck the cobblestone with his staff. The boxes rose into the air and floated to Blackbeard, stopping a foot away from him.

  The shield-bearer, although obviously surprised, said nothing. Even the most experienced mages had issues with such spells and Ash had done it like it was nothing! Blackbeard had lived long enough to know when people were keeping secrets away from him, but also when it was for the best not to poke your nose where it didn’t belong. People were right, ignorance was bliss sometimes.

  The two rode out of the elven quarter, leaving behind the lovely ladies and their magical homes. Their next stop was the butcher’s. Food could be bought from the trolls, too. Their stuff was better but it was also more expensive, so they had to choose between good grub or good arrows. The Stumps had made their choice without consulting Ash, who had a different opinion. That was probably why they had “forgotten” to ask him.

  “Sit here,” Blackbeard instructed, tying his horse to the rack. “Keep an eye on our stuff.”

  Ash gave him a mock salute and plopped down on the bench. Rolling his eyes, he focused on the boxes, tubes, and chest floating in the air.

  Blackbeard, hoping that the mage would stay put, entered the store. Ash became bored as soon as the shield-bearer left his sight. He wondered what Blackbeard would buy, and what kind of person would be dumb enough to try to steal things floating in the air that clearly belonged to an experienced mage. No one wanted to mess with them.

  “We got you, Ash! Surrender!”

  Three people appeared next to him, two girls and one plump boy with rosy cheeks and a kind smile. The kids were probably seven or six years old.

  “I give up!” Ash exclaimed.

  The children smiled and the boy tossed his head back in triumph. But before he could say anything, Ash grabbed him and began tickling him. “The great and terrible Ash shall eat the little hero!”

  “Noooo!” the boy cried, dropping his wooden sword. “A terrible beast is torturing me! Save me, oh, faithful companions!”

  The girl with pigtails grabbed the sword that had fallen to the ground and smacked Ash’s knee. The mage yelped and dropped the still-laughing boy. The little one stepped on his foot and ran away with his friends. Once they were far enough, the three heroes turned around and stuck out their tongues at him.

  “You’ll never catch us alive!” they shouted and started running, laughing as they maneuvered between the adults, who looked rather annoyed by both theirs and Ash’s behavior. But the young mage didn’t care. He was having fun.

  “Oh, I will get you!” he shouted back and started running.

  Sometimes, he’d catch up to one of them and start tickling them. The other two, seeing that their friend had been captured by the evil monster would rush to Ash and start kicking him in the shins, making him drop his prey and begin the chase anew.

  The children were laughing. His eyes, for the first time in a long while, shone with genuine happiness and joy. Running through the streets without a care in the world... What could be better than that? Well, he wouldn’t complain if he had a lovely lady running after him... A man could dream.

  Catching the girl with the pigtails, Ash froze. On the corner of the street sat a woman, wrapped head to toe in a tattered cloak. By her feet was a tin can with a couple of coppers in it. It was a pitiful sight, but something kept him from looking away. He kept staring at her, unsure of what was happening. For a brief moment, he caught a glimpse of the woman’s face in the puddle before it was disturbed by someone’s boot.

  He knew that face.

  Ash remembered the beautiful girl who turned into a decrepit old woman over the course of ten years. Through the wrinkles and rotten skin, he could still see the outline of the scar left by a gauntlet.

  His chest was aching and he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. Long ago, that face had been hidden by a hood. He remembered children running away and a merchant standing still and watching.

  “Hey!” someone shouted, snapping him out of it.

  “Sorry!” Ash said, noticing the disgruntled Blackbeard tying several bundles to his saddle. Guido walked over to his friend and sniffed him nervously.

  “I know you’re still a kid, but you need to stop playing games while we’re on a mission.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ash repeated, mounting his horse.

  “By the Heavens,” the shield-bearer muttered and turned his horse around. “Let’s go to the tavern before those bastards drink all of the ale.”

  Ash kept looking behind him until the beggar’s figure was out of his sight.

  Chapter 30

  25th day of Tamir, 311 A.D., Kingdom of Arabist, the walls of Zadastra

  A sh watched as his men rode through the gates and into th
e field, heavy armor glittering in the moonlight. Mingled among them were magicians whose staffs glowed with magical lights. The battle would begin soon. The battle would be the culmination of their entire military campaign. Victory would mean freedom for his men and defeat death. All the cards had been laid on the table and all bets closed. It was the turn to see did the house always win or not.

  A month ago, when they had reached the impenetrable fortress, victory seemed but a wishful dream. Little did the Foul Legion know that their general had the ability to make dreams come true.

  They had been ordered to build two catapults. No one knew what the general needed them for but he got what he had asked for in a day and a half. He then ordered them to dismember the corpses of the defeated and bombard Zadastra with the bodies of their own. Heads, arms, legs, and torsos filled the air, leaving bloody prints on the walls of the fortress and fear in the hearts of its defenders.

  Day and night, the soldiers of Zadastra took turns trying to stop the legion’s march. Ash, going against the laws of war, poisoned the local wells and rivers, leaving the city without water. He also hired necromancers and warlocks to send plagues and diseases at his enemies and sent scouts to catch those who had failed to hide in the fortress. Unfortunately for them, they’d oftentimes meet a fate worse than death. Laughing manically, the soldiers raped and tortured, leaving their victims to die in agony. They showed no mercy.

  Ash had released all possible horrors on Zadastra. He used everything he could come up with. His soldiers looked at him with both awe and horror, but also with respect. To them, Ash was the most daring and ruthless leader to have ever walked the roads of the thirteen kingdoms.