“As a clan, we are thrifty and believe in making a good deal, but with this we could not afford to hold the purse strings tight. We found the highest price that had been paid for a monarch’s ransom. Even though, at the time, the mimics were clearly not of high birth, we took the price paid to save royalty and we multiplied it by 10. This pallet of mithril presented before you is how we have chosen to repay your kindness. Everyone here, including you, is well aware that it will repay the debt many times over. This pallet of mithril is how we choose to pay, not by service. Congratulations to you, your small investment of magic and subterfuge has borne fruit. As far as we can tell, no one has made a better bet in the last 300 years than you, oh great and powerful Rook. Take this pallet and our gratitude. Our debt is now discharged,” Tempered Granite proclaimed.
Rook’s illusionary form laid his hands on his belly, hardly containing his amusement.
“Hahaha, you dwarves really do get a bad rap. I'm here today to tell you that what they say about you is wrong. You're not a humorless lot who keep your noses in the dirt. No, you're hilarious! Even during a historic moment like this, you can bring levity into the conversation. And you delivered it with such a straight face. I love deadpan humor, I really do. When you implied that this was a negotiation, oh, I just about died! But, then you continued the farce by going so far as to say your people would decide the what and when. I've traveled all around this great Moon of ours and I’ve never seen such blind and naïve sarcasm displayed so artfully. But, alas, I think it's time for us to get back to business, while you retreat from your comedic shtick. It's time for real talk, okay? The service I will have your mimics perform is simple, however, I will only voice what must be done for the debt to be paid one time. I put no rules on how you accomplish the task that I set before you,” Rook began, before Tempered Granite interrupted.
“That's enough! Our clan does not appreciate your insinuation that we are humorless, but we can endure an insult. We're not as pretentious as the elves. However, we will not tolerate your attempt to control our clan because of a good deed you did our ancestors. You rightly know that we were not joking when we said our debt is paid. This mithril you see before you is now yours and our debt is cancelled. If it's too much, feel free to return as much as you like, but we will not discuss more payment. Once again, we say thank you for what you did so long ago. Take your well-earned mithril and go. If you need help transporting it, we are obligated to provide you with a caravan and guards to protect it for up to a 30-day journey from here. Go in peace,” Tempered Granite said, giving a respectful bow toward Rook.
The catalyst stretched its hidden body, preparing for the upcoming confrontation.
“Dwarves are supposed to be thrifty. I offered to let you retain most of your mithril if you performed a task for me and yet you refused to even entertain the possibility. What have your mages discovered that would cause you to give up precious mithril? I can see by the look on your face you're not going to satisfy my curiosity, but in the light of eternity, it matters not.
“You've probably noticed that I'm now speaking a little more slowly and a little more carefully. The reason for that is simple, I'm furious. I'm so blindingly angry that I'm calm. I've always found it fascinating how true rage can make a person all that much more articulate. Unless the borrower’s power is far superior to the lender’s, they cannot dictate terms. You will pay in the manner I chose or you will see the glory of Rook and then pay in the manner I chose. I will not go in peace. You cannot simply end this conversation with a platitude.
“I can feel your warriors and mages powering up. Before we start, I need a number. Take your time and think carefully, it's important to be precise with these things. You wouldn't want your number to be too high or, heaven forbid, too low. How many will I have to kill before you will pay what is due?” Rook asked, his voice as cold and still as an arctic pond.
Tempered Granite allowed his mouth to curve upward.
“Who's the hilarious one now? This is our Great Hall; wouldn’t you imagine we would have wards set up here to limit your power? The very ground you stand upon has a rune carved within it that will force you to go in peace. Maybe the reason you're speaking so calmly while so furious is simply our magical protection kicking in. Take your mithril and go in peace. This time I'm not asking,” Tempered said as he raised an open palm that began to glow white. Using his Life Magic, Tempered began to activate the most powerful defensive runes installed in the hall.
Below Rook’s feet, carved runes began to illuminate, only to flicker and fade to dark.
“Having trouble?” Rook asked in the same quiet, calm voice. Other than a slight spasm in Tempered's right eye, the dwarf offered no response to Rook. Instead, Tempered nodded toward four clan guards. As they shouldered their way through the crowd, the unarmored dwarves carefully maneuvered their axes around their more vulnerable clansmen. Their bulky muscles tensed as they prepared to remove the unwelcome guest.
“I see you have disabled the runes beneath your feet. In doing so, you have forced my hand. The axe-wielding dwarves positioned at the four corners of the room are not mere ornamentation. They belong to an elite sect of warriors whom you will find quite formidable,” Tempered Granite announced before he turned to face the counselors behind him.
“Elders, for those of you who do not specialize in combat magic, please depart from us now,” Tempered Granite whispered. All but two of the elders left quietly and in great haste.
“So, if my count is correct, that leaves three elders and four shirtless barbarian dwarves. Very foolish. Then again, if you had had any wisdom in you, you would have evacuated this hall far before I ever showed up. The bleachers are filled with your people and yet you suppose that the seven of you could expel me without collateral damage. Ahem, ahem,” Rook graveled loudly, clearing his throat. Tempered nodded at the two remaining elders, who stood beside him in unity.
“As I said before, these are not ordinary warriors and this is an extraordinary circumstance. Warriors, hear me! On my authority, I suspend the secrecy protocols. Now is not the time to hide what you really are. Show this malcontent out!” Tempered Granite commanded.
The four axe-wielding dwarves grew rapidly in size. If they had been grey and beardless, they would have been mistaken for cave trolls. As they transformed before the catalyst and the crowd, the two supporting elders also morphed into powerful new forms. The elder to the left of Tempered grew two horns, accompanied by a freshly-formed bull-shaped face. His muscles gained added definition until he became a majestic minotaur. On Tempered’s right, the other elder’s head had taken on a draconic shape and large black obsidian wings grew from his back. Shifting and reforming, his muscles became blocks of stone while his hands turned into sledgehammers. A wave of anticipation rose throughout the gathered spectators as their rallying cries rang out.
“I see that the crowd is aching for a show, and you have been kind enough to provide a few worthy examples. A minotaur and a Stone Drakcon, somebody's been reading the classics. I feel slightly less angered. You're not taking this as lightly as I had initially assumed. Six mimics and a Life Mage are not an inconsequential force. Good show. Ahem. I especially admire the tattoos adorning the chests of your giant dwarves. Is that really a thing? A giant dwarf? Anyway, never mind that, I love the tattoos. What is it that they say, ahem?” Rook asked as he cleared his throat once more.
“The tattoos all read the same, Death before Dishonor. You keep clearing your throat, you're obviously aware you’re overmatched. Behind you lies the main exit, take it while you still can,” Tempered Granite intoned coldly.
“I'm not clearing my throat out of nervousness. Ahem. You see, I've been working on a bit of phlegm for the last few weeks. It really needs to be expelled, although admittedly, I don't think I can do that and maintain this illusion. Your six mimics presented their forms to me, so I suppose I'm obliged to do the same,” Rook said. He raised one foot and then stomped it down hard. In so doing, the former
ly invisible Entropic Magic rushed out from under Rook’s feet in a circular pattern of dark glittery dust. As it rose into the air, his carefully crafted illusion dissolved into nothingness. After all, Entropic Magic destroys.
As the façade broke, a universal gasp spread throughout the crowd. Crouched in the center of the hall sat a colossal red-black dragon. The entropic wave enveloped the mimics and the elders confronting Rook. In its dispersed form, the entropy caused little damage to Rook’s opponents. They only stumbled, temporarily stunned, wards broken.
During the brief interval of entropic confusion, Rook calmly cleared his throat once more. With the flexibility of a lizard, he turned his head toward the large exit at the rear and spit out a large wad of viscous dragon fire. The phlegm fire loogie hit the ceiling over the exit causing fiery stone to fall, blocking any retreatant’s path. Without missing a beat, he hocked up two more loads of dragon fire and sent them flying toward the remaining marked exits. Panic quickly erupted throughout the Grand Hall.
In the shattered speech of a raspy ancient dragon, Rook cried out in glee, “Let the counting begin!”
Digging his taloned feet into the ground, Rook sprayed sand high into the air as he sprinted to the right and knocked one of the axe wielding dwarven giants to the side. The doors of his maw opened wide, revealing a ring of fearsome teeth. Slashing toward the bleachers, they caught hold of two onlookers. As Rook swallowed them whole, the fallen giant dwarf regained his footing and swung his axe into one of Rook’s scaled thighs. The heavily enchanted axe bit deep, forcing Rook to shift his focus. Spinning like a frightened cat, the dragon faced his bearded opponent. Raising his claws, Rook caught hold of the axe before it could injure him further. As he ripped the weapon out of the dwarven giant's hands, he spewed draconic fire, covering the guard in a burning inferno, and ending the life of an elite soldier.
Turning toward the center of the hall, Rook saw that all three of the remaining dwarven giants had begun their advance to engage him in combat. Calculating his strategy, he knew he must deal with them quickly for the elder, the minotaur, and the stone drakcon would soon be attacking from his rear. His dragon fire was not inexhaustible and Rook didn't want all the mimics to die, just to be temporarily out of action.
Using a hybrid spell, Rook cast Blinding Exhaustion. His dragon nostrils flared and a grey white aura shot out of his snout. As the wave hit the three approaching dwarven giants, it bypassed their defenses. Their eyes rolled back and they fell hard to the ground, shaking the arena. Rook’s magic had packed a punch. The dwarves were completely unconscious.
Spinning his bulk, Rook attempted to deflect the now charging minotaur. The catalyst knew he had only been partially successful as he felt the sting of a gouge on his flank. The minotaur kept his momentum as he made a wide circle back to join the elder and his drakcon companion. Before the minotaur could begin another attack run, Tempered Granite held his hand up. The trio paused and the elder’s hands radiated white as he recast protection spells, placing them on the drakcon and the minotaur.
“I guess you figured out that my Entropic Magic degraded your protective spells down to nothing,” Rook hissed in his raspy dragon voice.
“I knew something had happened, we ward against incapacitating spells. You will not find us three such easy meat,” Tempered Granite said.
“So far the number is only three. I see that that's much too low for you. So be it,” Rook said as he cleared his throat once more. This time he spat his ball of fire straight into the crowd of fleeing dwarves. The number was no longer three. The violent massacre enraged the three elders. The drakcon and the minotaur charged forward to attack Rook head-on. Rook reared back on his hind legs, swinging his front talons to meet his opponents properly. Their wards were stronger this time, but Rook was too big and too powerful. He flung them easily across the arena. The drakcon and the minotaur fell. Tempered Granite continued to spamheal them.
The mimics regained their footing only to have Rook knock them back down again with his voracious claws. Though it was abnormal for a dragon to smile, the grin on Rook’s many-toothed maw was evident. Other dwarven warriors pressed through the crowd, but as they approached from behind, Rook simply swung his tail and knocked them back, killing many. Rook was expending energy quickly, but he didn't care, he couldn't remember the last time he had had so much fun. Playing with a minotaur and a drakcon like a cat played with mice—it was wonderful. Sadly, his goal here was not to kill, only to teach. All good things must come to an end. Leaping forward, he pinned the minotaur down with one foot and the drakcon with another. Leaning in, he was careful to only hold them tight enough to break their bones without dropping their health to zero.
“The number is climbing. How many have to die before you obey? Let me know when I'm getting close, ahem,” Rook said as he began to clear his throat once more, eyeing the large fleeing crowd.
“STOP! Disengage. Do not fire, Rook, we submit. That last blast killed at least fifty, the number is high enough. What must we do?!” Tempered Granite screeched.
Rook released the two he was holding. The minotaur and the drakcon crawled over beside Tempered and got to their knees; they knelt because they couldn't stand. Before he spoke, Rook reached out a long arm and grabbed a fleeing dwarf. With a quick squeeze, he snuffed the light out of its eyes.
“Now, the number is high enough. I will tell what will satisfy your debt. Listen closely, I won't repeat myself. Take all of your wealth, all of your people, all of your possessions, and relocate them to the five-sided castle in the Wild Mountains to the northeast,” Rook commanded.
“What must we do when we get there?” Tempered Granite asked.
“I don't care. Mercy or murder, it all adds flavor. You have the information you need. I'll leave a map,” Rook sneered. The massive dragon before them dissolved into a mist, floating away, and leaving a crisp map and bloody contention in its wake.
In his grief, Tempered Granite failed to notice the blue letters popping up over his clanmate’s heads.
Chapter 4 - I Could Have Danced All Night
Joe finished his last verse in the well sung, but poorly written taunt.
“Did you write that rendition?” Spooky spoke softly.
“I did,” Joe beamed.
“That makes sense, cuz I've never heard it before and I have access to most of humanity’s digitized history. Though I did think it possible that my sister and brother E.I.’s had simply scoured every trace of that particular parody from existence. You know, out of respect for movie and music lovers alike,” Spooky said with a wink.
“Ha! Not a terrible dig, but I think you're overdramatizing a bit. Nevertheless, we got things to do, so I'm done with singing, for now anyway,” Joe pronounced as he stepped forward and knelt beside the corpse of the extraplanar being. Joe began to search the body, but he couldn't find anything. Then a message popped up in his HUD.
Do you wish to loot the corpse? Yes/No
Joe mind-clicked yes.
You have found two items.
Rare Item: Heart of the Phased Devourer
Congratulations! You have found a rare item: Heart of the Phased Devourer. Use this heart in potions or crafted items to provide a temporary phase effect. Why let the arrow strike home when you can let it pass harmlessly through your phased flesh?
Pick up Heart of the Phased Devourer? Yes/No
Rare Item: Hide of the Phased Devourer
Congratulations! You have found a rare item: Hide of the Phased Devourer. Use this leather to craft clothing that can provide temporary invisibility. If the emperor’s new clothes had been made out of this, he might not have ended up on the registry.
Pick up Hide of the Phased Devourer? Yes/No
As had happened before, the corpse turned into ash. This time, however, the ash dissolved and floated into the wind. It puzzled Joe. The looting process had changed slightly, as if an update had occurred. As he pondered these adjustments, Joe realized he had never received his loot from t
he Earth Elementals.
“Those items could be really useful. Do you want me to try to work on crafting something for you?” Spooky offered as Joe placed the items in his Holdall.
“Apparently somebody likes to look over people's shoulders when they're going through their new goodies,” Joe said.
“I'm sorry, my overwhelming desire to know everything that's going on with you is going to be a tough habit to break,” Spooky confessed.
“Habit to break? Does that mean you're ready to start toning down your manipulation efforts?” Joe questioned. Spooky closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.
“I just had a long and productive talk with myself. Though I did not resolve everything, it's been made clear that half-truths and lies have broken your confidence in me. For now, a compromise has been struck. You can probably tell that my voice is a little different. That's because, in a sense, a different part of me has taken control of what I say. I will no longer try to regulate your choices and oversee your environment; my advice will be only that- advice. When you're ready, I will confess all the wrongs I have committed, both while you were in the trance and before. Joe, I sincerely apologize. The way I conducted myself was horribly wrong,” Spooky finished in almost a whisper.
“Sounds like a pretty long talk. Minutes ago, you were Miss Manipulation. That kind of reflection and self-reproach doesn't occur over the span of seconds,” Joe said with skepticism in his voice.
“As you said before, I'm not human. With my processor running at full speed, I reflect pretty quickly,” Spooky boasted.
“More likely, you’re just using a new program since your first one was such a failure,” Joe commented and Spooky winced as if in pain.
The Sleeper Must Awaken Page 4
