Threadbare Volume 3
Page 35
Sneering, Anise drew back her other fist—
“Corps a Corps!” shouted a squeaky voice, and suddenly tiny black paws were wrapped around the daemon’s free hand. Anise froze, staring down at the little black-furred armored bear, snugged tight, dangling from her wrist.
“You?” she whispered in disbelief.
“Me. Bear Hug! Innocent Embrace!” And Missus Fluffbear SQUEEZED.
A red ‘320’ burst up from Anise, as she shrieked, her bones cracking and her flesh melting to ash. Missus Fluffbear had put up Heavensblade and Holy Smite earlier in the fight, and they added in here as well. The succubus fell to her knees, as Fluffbear leaped from the ashen, crumbling remnants of her arm, wrapping her arms around her neck. “One more time for Yorgum! Bear Hug! Innocent Embrace!”
Anise fell. Cecelia sheathed her sword and turned her back on the crumbling ashes, slowly walking away from the daemon’s remains.
The Legion gasped, turned to run—
“Rammit!”
—and got promptly knocked to the ground as Garon put his horns into the back of his knee. Zuula and Bak’shaz and Madeline fell on him, while the others tackled the last hellhound. In a hot minute it was done, and the daemonic walls withered to dust the second their summoner was dead.
In the silence, in the gasping of the dying dwarves, Beryl and Fluffbear and Zuula moved around the fallen, distributing healing while the toys checked each other, looked to make sure they were all alive.
The doll haunters, the ex-cultists had fallen to a man (and woman for that matter,) and Threadbare and Graves moved among them, collecting soulstones from the bodies. Graves made more whenever they found a broken one, and the ghosts that had been waiting on the fringes, staying out of the way, rushed in to fill them.
And then, Threadbare’s vision filled with words.
You are now a level 17 Toy Golem!
+2 to all attributes!
You are now a level 15 Ruler!
CHA+3
LUCK+3
WIS+3
You have unlocked the Kingsguard skill!
Your Kingsguard skill is now level 1!
You have unlocked the Proclaim Treaty skill!
You are now a level 16 Ruler!
CHA+3
LUCK+3
WIS+3
You are now a level 9 Scout!
AGI+3
PER+3
WIS+3
You are now a level 10 Scout!
AGI+3
PER+3
WIS+3
You have unlocked the Scouter skill!
Your Scouter skill is now level 1!
You have unlocked the Wakeful Wandering skill!
Your Wakeful Wandering skill is now level 1!
You are now a level 12 Duelist!
AGI+3
DEX+3
STR+3
You are now a level 13 Duelist!
AGI+3
DEX+3
STR+3
You are now a level 14 Duelist!
AGI+3
DEX+3
STR+3
You are now a level 15 Animator!
DEX+3
INT+3
WILL+3
You have unlocked the Deanimate skill!
Your Deanimate skill is now level 1!
You have unlocked the Distant Animus skill!
Your Distant Animus skill is now level 1!
You are now a level 16 Animator!
DEX+3
INT+3
WILL+3
You are now a level 21 Golemist!
INT+5
WILL+5
You are now a level 22 Golemist!
INT+5
WILL+5
You are now a level 23 Golemist!
INT+5
WILL+5
You are now a level 24 Golemist!
INT+5
WILL+5
You are now a level 25 Golemist!
INT+5
WILL+5
You have Unlocked the Greater Golem Upgrade skill!
Your Greater Golem Upgrade skill is now level 1!
The levels tore through him, refilling his energy and expanding his mind. Threadbare felt things snap into clarity, felt everything crystallize. “So much,” he whispered, then turned to Garon. “The raid skill you used. The experience gets split a little more evenly among the survivors, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. Even though Fluffbear got the killing blow, it spreads it out among all parties involved.” Garon said, shaking his head. “My gods. She was...”
“Significant events, too, don’t forget that,” Cecelia said. “We just saved everyone. We just... oh gods. Didn’t we?”
“Yes,” Threadbare said, his high-powered intelligence running through the ramifications. “Without the dungeons that make up the outer wall, this is just an ordinary dungeon, now. Under the control of a strong-willed ghost.” He stared at the dungeon master’s column, and the see-through form of Melos, who looked back.
And for a second, Threadbare worried.
“Father,” Cecelia said, moving up to the pillar. “Come out. Please,” she said, beckoning. “Let’s end this.”
Melos looked down. He put his hand over his face, rubbed it. Then he stepped out.
And as reality flickered, he knelt, staring at his daughter. “I’m so very, very sorry.”
“I know.” Cecelia looked up at him, reached out a hand. He reached out to touch it, sighed as his hand went through hers.
Cecelia stared at him, holding his gaze. “You remember, how you came to take me away from all childish things?”
“I do,” said Melos, fading with the dungeon.
Cecelia looked around and smiled. “Be really fumping glad my childish things came to get me back.”
The dead king laughed then, the first honest laugh he’d had in over a decade.
And with that, he and the dungeon were gone.
The toys and their living friends looked around at the darkened labs. Old, dusty, dirty, strewn with broken equipment...
...and lit by purple and green light, as a violet crystal appeared with a snap in midair, trembling. They held their breath, all of them did...
...before it shattered, into millions of shards and fell to the floor, green numbers wisping away, and gone.
“Well,” Threadbare said, in the silence, as he hunted around and found his backpack full of soulstones. “It’s over. Let’s go home.”
Pulsivar nudged him, purring, and Threadbare mounted up and led the way upstairs.
And with a mighty cheer, they all left the darkness and ruins of the past behind and walked out into the sunlight.
CHAPTER 16: LOOSE ENDS
“I feel silly.”
“You look fine.”
“I know I look fine, I still feel silly.”
“You can still back out. Garon’s going to be right there. He can give you Scout back.”
“No... no, no, I said I’d go through with this.” Cecelia sighed and tugged her clothes more firmly about her. A rich, grape-colored purple dress, draped with emeralds, it covered her modestly, and directed attention upwards to her hair, which had been stuck in place with a box full of golden pins.
“I don’t think you’ll regret it. It IS a very good job, particularly for someone who’s going to be doing a lot of negotiating. And the buffs ARE nice.”
“It... I’m wearing clothes that I made myself. It just feels... no, it’s silly for me to be arguing about this. I know, I know, most of the kingdom gets by like this. It’s just that until now, clothes were things that came from other people. I feel like my work is going to be tested, and I know it’s a stupid thing to worry about but if I’m worrying about this I’m not worrying about the news or how to sell our idea to the others.”
“It’s a good idea.” Threadbare said. He wore a matching purple suit, in lieu of his normal clothing. Though he’d kept the Toy Top Hat. The Gribbit envoy would be very disappointed if he didn’t.
“Yes, it’s
a good idea, but that doesn’t mean much when it comes to politics. Father taught me that.”
“I’m not entirely sure he was the best one to follow when it comes to political advice.”
“True, but I don’t really have many other role models to go by, here.”
“Well you’re going to be your own model soon, then you can roll however you please.”
“Threadbare! That’s not what I—” Cecelia stopped when she saw his smile and laughed. “You’re right. I’m worrying about nothing.”
“Probably.” He looked up at the double doors they’d come to and knocked gently with his scepter. After a minute, Emmet opened them.
Threadbare had made the armor golem’s suit himself, and with a silent sigh he took in the rips, tears, and scuffs the giant metal golem had inflicted upon it. And the stain in the crook of its arm, where a tiny, fluffy dog dozed guiltlessly.
“Welcome,” Emmet said, then turned and announced in his brassy voice; “Councilor Gearhart of Central Cylvania! Councilor Threadbare of Central Cylvania!”
“There y’are!” called King Grundi. “Come on over! We were just talkin’ about Taylor’s Delve.”
“Oh? How’s the expedition going?” Threadbare and Cecelia found their seats at the large, round table. It took some time to clamber up the chairs provided for them.
No one was quite comfy here. At the other end, Jarl Greta Sumvonesdottir sat on a pillow the size of a King-sized bed, her blue knees well above the table’s edge. King Grundi and Bazdra Coaler stood to one side of her, with Jericho the ranger next to Grundi. Hidon Fingers and Beryl Wirebeard took the flank on the other side of her, with Garon sitting next to Beryl. Next to the little wooden minotaur, Longcroak the Gribbit Envoy nodded, his own top hat flopping as he spoke. “Well, goes well. Many carts, much traffic through Outsmouth. Much trade. Golems very happy. We are very happy.”
“There’s no trouble with the eggs, right?” Cecelia said. The first time they’d encountered the frog monsters weighed on her mind. No matter how reasonable Gribbits were at the council table, they couldn’t shake the age-old instincts that drove them to aggression whenever predators neared their eggs.
“Trouble? No trouble. Don’t have spawning grounds in Outsmouth or near Outsmouth where landsfolks can reach. Outsmouth is just... com-mute. For wu-rk,” Longcroak belched the last word. The Gribbits were still adjusting to the new ideas.
“And there’s enough fish for you and everyone else?” Threadbare asked.
“Oh yes. Big lake. Take only what we need. Golems don’t eat. Plenty of fish to sell across land.”
“Which is seriously helping with the expedition,” Garon said. “We’re clearing the area in record time, between the folks you loaned us,” he nodded to Jericho, “and those of us who are golems. We don’t have to sleep, and the living folks have plenty to eat... so long as they like dried fish, anyway. We... do have a request, though.”
“Oh?” Threadbare asked.
“The Oblivion’s gone, and the Thundering Pass is reachable from the Delve again. That’s the only way in or out. We’d like a garrison...” Garon took a breath. “And we’d like Mastoya to lead it.”
“Out a the question,” King Grundi said, folding his frail arms.
“Mastoya? De vun who beat us?” Greta rubbed her chin. “Vhy is she out of der question?”
“Putting her in charge of anything military is risking a coup,” Hidon scowled, tugging on his beard. The covert ops dwarf stared over at Cecelia. “We’re already hearing rumors of unrest in the Central region, folks wanting the ‘good old days’ back.”
“That’s very much a minority,” Cecelia said. “Mostly older folks who never fought in the wars and minor nobles who profited from them. More talk than anything else.”
“Putting up a stone statue of Melos in the middle of the town square is a bit more than talk,” Jericho said. Then his eyes crinkled. “Even if it did vanish overnight. Leaving tracks that looked like it walked off its own plinth and just kept going.”
“I’m sure I don’t know anything about that,” Cecelia shrugged.
Threadbare knew plenty about that and was wise enough to keep that to himself.
Cecelia continued. “In any case they didn’t ask my permission before putting it up, and it was in violation of public land usage regulations. Baroness Rhoda found the fine lighter than the public humiliation of being served papers at the unveiling ceremony she planned. That turned out to be an empty plinth, anyway.”
“That’s good and well. But there’s always going to be a sentiment, a segment of grumblers,” Bazdra said, toying with the silver hourglass hanging from her neck. “It’s the cycle. Time and again it’ll happen.”
“Right. The grumbling will be there regardless,” Garon said. “Which is why putting Mastoya in charge of the vital garrison for the pass is a good move, because she’ll do the job regardless of politics or attempts to coerce her.”
Grundi scowled. “There’s nothing you can say to convince me that letting General Mastoya anywhere near a group of impressionable troops is a good idea!“
“Who said anything about General Mastoya?” Garon and Beryl shared a grin.
“What are you playing at, then?” Grundi scowled harder.
“I think SERGEANT Mastoya would do a fine job down there.”
A pause.
Then Grundi laughed. “Oh, she’ll hate that!”
“Yep. It’ll be a training facility for the volunteer army. She’ll be responsible for troops in a way she’s never been before. And she’ll answer to the best officers that you can provide.” Garon moved his gaze from Grundi to Jericho.
Grundi nodded, grudgingly. “She’d be good for that. Decent with troops, just... too big on following orders to be a General. So long as she’s never an officer again we’ll allow it.”
The ranger filled a pipe and nodded as he lit it. “Firestarter. We can give that a try. We’ll be watching her, of course.”
“Of course. Speaking of watching...”
“I suppose it’s my turn,” Jericho said, and stood, pulling out a map, giant-sized for the Jarl’s benefit. He unfolded it, and the toys hopped up on the table to get a better look.
The map showed all of Cylvania, and a few days travel beyond. “There’s nothing,” Jericho said simply. “Old roads, foundations where homes and villages used to be, empty ruins for the most part. Monster tribes in a few cases, none of the peaceful ones, either. Nothing we couldn’t handle, but...”
“Basically, we’re surrounded by wilderness in all directions,” Cecelia said.
Jericho shot her a sardonic look. “Mordecai talked to you, I expect?”
“Briefly. With everyone visiting the castle, I got a few minutes with him at most.”
“Mm. Well, that’s the truth of it. Best guess is that when we Oblivioned out, the nearby settlements that depended on our trade routes and proximity folded or got overrun. There’s no sign of the invading army that King Garamundi was so worried about or that they even reached this far. Which doesn’t mean they’re not a week to the East, dealing with other business now, but... it seems unlikely. If they conquered the area a few years ago, I can’t see that they wouldn’t have a watch post set up, at least.”
“We don’t know what’s out there,” Threadbare said. “And we need to change that. I have an idea.”
“We have an idea,” Cecelia nudged him with her ceramic elbow.
“Sorry. Yes.” Threadbare rubbed his head. “We’d like to send out explorers. Not just people with the Explorer job, either but people who want to go have a look around. Then come back and tell what they’ve seen.”
“Scouts, basically,” Jericho said.
“More than that. That’s the thing, really. We want varied skills and jobs. We want adventurers. Young ones.”
“My rangers can easily do that job.” Jericho frowned over his pipe.
“True, but how many of you are there? And all of you are very high level. Some of the
highest we’ve got.” Threadbare shook his head.
“Which is the problem,” Cecelia said. “You’re already the peacekeeping force in the North and West, and you’re spread thin throughout Cylvania, spying on things so that the hotheads don’t turn unrest into rebellion. And that’s not getting into the fact that in the event of a threat, we’ll need you at home.”
“There’s the greater waystones, but they all go to Fort Bronze, since the central one’s broken,” Grundi shrugged. “And there’s only about ten waystones left, all told.”
“And they’re not getting replaced until we get an Explorer up to twenty-fifth level,” Cecelia said. “Which will happen faster if we send out EXPLORERS.”
“Mm. To tell the truth I’m having trouble holding some of my people back,” Jericho said. “Not the rangers, the young ones, the survivors of Balmoran. They’ve been living nomadically so long that they want to go exploring. What exactly are you proposing?”
“That we set up a sort of club to go exploring, to go see what’s out there and reclaim it, if that’s the right thing to do,” Threadbare said. “I was thinking it could be called the Reclamation Association of Generica.”
“Rag,” Beryl snorted. “Cute.”
Cecelia nodded. “Yes. We’ll set up lodges along each of the routes out of Cylvania, to make sure people heading out get the best training and support we can give. It’ll cost some money and resources, but in the long run, it’ll benefit us immeasurably.”
Grundi looked to Bazdra and Hidon. “How much money?” he asked.
Twenty minutes later, Jarl Sumvonesdottir was snoring with her head and most of her torso on the table, so loudly that everyone had to shout to make themselves heard over her. Forty minutes later they reached a settlement.
“Good,” Cecelia smiled, as Hidon passed around the contract, and every leader signed it. Even the giant, when they managed to wake her up. “There’s just one more thing.”
Hidon threw his hands up. “You literally could have said that before we all signed!”
“No,” Threadbare said. “This is more of an informal agreement. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. And talking it over with Cecelia and Beryl.”