by Ugland, Eric
“It’s not even clear he’s willing to take the throne.”
“I thought he orchestrated the murder of his brother—”
“That’s certainly what I thought as well, but he’s made no outward overtures for the throne yet. No calls for voting. I understand events in the capital have been tumultuous. The situation is increasingly odd.”
“I heard there have been some, uh, people in the running, though.”
“Oh, plenty. More, and less, every day.”
“Who are you voting for, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Oh, dear boy, thinking I might qualify to vote. Quaint. No, I don’t get a say.”
“Could I just vote for you?”
“Please no.”
“But I could.”
“In the first round, perhaps. But if there is no clear victor, the field will narrow to the top three candidates. Or whatever the head of the Senate decides. It’s a delightful mess, the Senate. Frankly, I’ve always thought it a holdover of times gone by. Though I suppose I also understand why it exists.”
“Bad rulers?”
“There were a string of them in the olden days,” he said. Then he threw the letter he was still holding down on the ground. “Dammit Montanagamory whatever you are going by! You were getting me to talk history again. I have things to do today, and you, as the standard bearer of the House of Northwoods, cannot be hanging around in my garden for much longer without arousing suspicion. So, anything else you have to report of note?”
“I guess not.”
“Then inform your mistress that I would be overjoyed to enjoy a dinner with her this evening.”
“I can do that.”
“Lovely. Where are you staying?”
“The Crossed Arms.”
“Oh, spending some coin are we? If the lady is going to be here for some time, perhaps we could meet for a meal or two?”
“I’m sure that can be arranged, Viceroy Glaton.”
“It is always good to see you, Duke of Coggeshall. Be safe out there.”
He closed the locket, and I heard the city noise floating in with the light snow once again.
“A good day to you,” Léon said, his tone remarkably bored and dismissive.
“Yes, Viceroy,” I said, giving a little bow.
I noticed him roll his eyes, and I stifled a smile.
Chapter Nineteen
I had a short list of other drop-offs to make, to let people know about Lady Northwoods being in town and available for social engagements. Some were posh residences in the nice part of town, some were at private clubs— though thankfully not the Explorer’s club, where I was pretty sure I’d be recognized. Well, where I might be recognized. Better be safe.
The snow stopped for a while, then started back up. It was all very dreamlike and peaceful though. Which was certainly at odds with life in the city. The more I walked around, the more I felt the tension. People were suspicious of each other, moving quickly through the streets. For whatever reason, they seemed placated by my uniform. And probably also the lack of beard. I felt like I looked nicer, more approachable. And I definitely fit in the city much better. That said, for the first time, I did see a few other men rocking beards. I liked to think that was because of me.
I dropped off my last perfumed envelope, and made my way over to the wall and the Emerald Sea. One sign of that there’d been a lot of monster attacks lately was all the street vendors selling meats. It was all dirt-cheap, and most of it smelled delicious. I chose a blackened hunk of flesh on a stick. A hint of sweetness, a heavy dose of smoke, and a bit more chewing than I was expecting, but it was good. Filling.
Just as I’d finished, literally tossing the stick into the bin next to the stall, the alarm bell clanged.
There was a momentary stillness as everyone waited to see if the bell was going to ring a second time, if an attack really was imminent, or if it was some sort of mist—
Clang.
No mistake.
The vast majority of people turned and ran the other way, scurrying to hiding spots. I took in my surroundings and tried to get a sense of what I could bring to the party.
* * *
Montana - Lvl 26 Burgmann
Traits
Race: Royal Fallen
Height: 6’5”
Weight: 410 lbs
Eye Color: Hazel
Hair Color: Blonde
Renown: 375 - Some appreciate what you have done for them.
* * *
Statistics
HP: 510
STAM: n/a
MP: 11748
Active Effects: Frightful Presence
* * *
Attributes
Strength: 101
Agility: 36
Dexterity: 39
Constitution: 70
Wisdom: 24
Intelligence: 32
Charisma: 32
Luck: 37
* * *
Unassigned points:
* * *
Skills
Riding - improvised (Lvl 1)
Falling (Lvl 3)
Animal Handling (Lvl 5)
Investigate (Lvl 1)
Harvesting (Lvl 5)
Swords (Lvl 25)
Unarmed Combat (Lvl 11)
Axes (Lvl 22)
Large Weapon Throwing (Lvl 28)
Jump (Lvl 6)
Stealth (Lvl 3)
Improvised Weaponry (Lvl 5)
Swimming (Lvl 17)
Spears (Lvl 41)
Warhammers (Lvl 25)
Light Armor (Lvl 5)
Heavy Armor (Lvl 8)
Fishing (Lvl 9)
Carving (Lvl 6)
Crafting (Lvl 5)
Wooden Weapon-Making (Lvl 1)
Skinning (Lvl 11)
Detect Traps (Lvl 45)
Lumberjack (Lvl 21)
Intimidation (Lvl 10)
Surveillance (Lvl 1)
Birding (Lvl 1)
Archery (Lvl 26)
Tracking (Lvl 24)
Fletching (Lvl 10)
Shield (Lvl 40)
Internal Monster Butchering (Lvl 1)
Politicking (Lvl 1)
Small Weapon Throwing (Lvl 9)
* * *
Abilities
Darkvision
The Sword of My Enemy is My Sword
Iron Will
Make An Entrance
Stand Tall
Regal Bearing
Rallying Cry
Art of Movement
Labyrinthine Recall
Detect Mimic
Indomitable
Swift Tracker
Veritasium
Detect Metals and Minerals
Tremorsense
Unbreakable Skeleton
Imperial Favor
House Scion
That’s not Pain
Armored Hide
Battle Frenzy
Multiple Minds
* * *
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.
Monstrous Companion (Typhon) - You have been gifted a companion from the god Typhon. Your companion is immortal, though if reduced to 0 HP, he will be forced to return in a different form, chosen at the whim of Typhon. You may absorb your companion for a temporary boost to your abilities, but the boost will only last until Typhon sends another companion your way.
* * *
Indicium
Coggeshall Heraldic Achievement (complete) - You are granted permission to use family buildings as you see fit, granted control of family
funds, granted permission to use the family name, granted permission to name an heir, granted permission to expand the family, granted permission to bestow aspects of the Coggeshall Heraldic Achievement. You gain ten levels in the skill Shield. You gain the ability Imperial Favor. You gain the ability House Scion.
Eona’s Blessing of the Spear - Eona blesses you with +10 spear, +7 swimming, +5 fishing, +10% movement in water, +3 Agility
Indicium of Imperial Prerogative: Magic - You are permitted to perform magic within the Empire of Glaton
Royal - You are identified as being of Royal Blood, and gain the abilities Stand Tall and Regal Bearing
Dungeon of the Ancients Indicium - You gain the following skills and/or abilities: Duelist, Labyrinthine Recall, Detect Mimic 20 ft, Detect Traps +45 levels, Swift Tracker, Veritasium, and Detect Metals and Minerals
Slayer: Death Bringer - As a living embodiment of death, know that you cause Frightful Presence. Your enemies now have a chance to be frightened when they are aware of you. You do an extra 10% damage to any creature below half health. Each death you cause brings you 1% of your health in return.
Slayer: Death Bearer - Congratulations on the slaughter. For each new entity you kill within the time limit, you receive an additional 5% XP. Your enemies now have a chance to be frightened even when they are not aware of you, but you are within 20 yards of them.
Typhon’s Mark of the Beast - Typhon blesses you with +10 intimidation, tremorsense, labyrinthine recall, and +5 Strength.
Zothys’ Blessing of the Protector. You gain 25 levels in shield and +3 Constitution.
Eona’s Blessing of the Hunt - You receive +20 skill levels in Archery, +15 skill levels in tracking, +10 skill levels in fletching, +10% harder to detect while moving, +3 Dex
* * *
Titles
Imperial Duke of Coggeshall
Prince of Eonneque
Fürst of Vreijuirag
Ducal heir of Old Lattimoore
Count of Duhamel.
Count of Helgand.
Count of Dunnismeer.
Count of Whitelock
Count of Michelgrove
Count of Daroonga
Count of Braewood
Count of Kingshills
Count of Wolveshire
All lesser titles minimized.
* * *
Languages
Goblin
Imperial Common
Mahrduhmese
Infernal
Hobgoblin Battle Cant
Night Goblin
Ursusian
Lutra
Northern Kobold
Carchedonian
* * *
Spells
Lifeform Identification (Lvl 1)
Heal Other (lvl 3)
Humus (lvl 1)
Basic Object Identification (Lvl 3)
Tame - Greater (Lvl 1)
ManaBomb (Lvl 1)
* * *
Yup. Seemed like a lot.
The Legion was assembling in the center, the men and women looking resplendent in their shining armor with their big spears and heavy shields. But a quick glance beyond the glimmer and shine betrayed the truth of the matter. They were tired. Ragged. Nearly everyone rested their shields on the ground, something I’d never seen before. Plenty were out of breath. It was an odd and disconcerting sight.
As was the rest of the flat fighting area on the top of the wall being empty.
Sure, there were a few loggers and lumberjacks rushing back from the lifts and cranes, but it looked like no citizens were stepping up to the plate.
Maybe I was wrong, and the bell was for something else. Maybe a parade dress, or formation work.
But no. There was definitely something coming toward the city. Something big enough to shake the trees as it came. Plus, there was the howling.
It was not a pleasant sound. A shrill ululation combined with screeching that grated against my ears. Looking around, I wasn’t alone. Nearly everyone winced against the howls echoing from the forest floor far below.
I started toward the edge of the forest, trying to get a better look at what was coming.
“Hey,” someone called out behind me.
I looked over my shoulder and saw a gruff human in leather armor and a jaunty cap with a feather sticking out of it. He was walking my way. The man was shorter than me, but had some muscle on him. A well-used sword hung at his left hip, and a flashy dagger on the right. Obviously a warrior of some kind. And given how many scars I saw on his exposed skin, I was willing to bet he was experienced with combat.
“What’s up, bub?” I asked.
He looked at my tabard, and then up to my face.
“You seem new here,” he said, “so a bit of friendly advice—”
“No offense, but you don’t seem friendly right now,” I said.
“Weird how that is,” he replied. “But the thing is, you’re not Legion. You don’t belong on the wall right now.”
“You’re on the wall, and—”
“I am keeping idiots like you off.”
“So you’re saying the Legion is stopping anyone else from helping against these attacks?”
“Not sure that’s what I’m saying, but...” He just smiled as his voice trailed off.
“Meh,” I said, glancing over at the Legion and then at the shaking tree tops. “I kind of want to see what’s coming.”
“As long as you won’t be getting involved in the fighting, sight-see away,” the guy said.
“What if I like fighting?”
“Then understand there’s going to be a lot more of that to do if you survive.”
“Can you rephrase that?”
“What?”
“What you just said. I think you were trying to, like, threaten me. But it was an awkward sentence so it’s really unclear.”
“I was being clear.”
“No, not in the least.”
“Just get the fuck off the wall.”
“Or?”
“Or don’t.”
“And?”
“What the fuck are you on about?” he asked, clearly exasperated.
“I’m just trying to understand what you’re on about.”
“I’m telling you that you aren’t allowed to be here.”
“But who’s saying that?”
“Me.”
“You’re the authority on this? Are you attached to the Legion?”
“I’m no Legion shitheel—”
“Then—”
“You can stay here and fight if you want. I’m just saying it might cause problems for you.”
“Is that a ‘you-might-get-injured-and-have-chronic-issues-with-life’ sort of a thing? Or are you saying you’re going—”
“Just shut up. Do whatever the fuck you want, but know there will be consequences.”
“Dude, you suck at this.”
“At what?”
“Whatever you’re doing here! I’m confused as fuck.”
“I— You— fuck you. You’re in trouble—”
“With who?”
“I’m going to be your nightmare—”
“Going there now? Come on, bub. Let’s keep the cliches to a minimum, because I’ve already got too many nightmares.”
“And now you have another.”
“Can you add your mother to that list too?”
He bristled.
“You don’t know who you’re messing with.”
“Dude, makes two of us.”
“I know you’re not from Osterstadt—”
“That’s, like, the bulk of the world, bub. Pretty pointless. Can we be done with the confused threatening? Maybe pick this up after the whole monster-attack thing?”
He blinked a few times. I could almost see the poor hamster in his brain getting its paw stuck in the wheel and being flung to the side. Clearly, this was a man of action, ill-suited to thinking. We can smell our own.
He nodded, and then walked back to the growing group of onlookers. W
ho apparently were all happy to not engage in the coming fight. I shook my head at them, and they, as a group, glared daggers at me.
I turned and walked up to the edge of the wall to peek over.
As always, the extreme height was overwhelming. It was a long, long way to the ground. A ground that was currently covered in black furry things rushing to the wall. I looked at the wall, and could see a whole shit-ton of the furry fuckers climbing up. They were the ones howling, and when one saw me, it paused, howled louder, and a great cry erupted from the mass.
Double-trouble: the great howl seemed to cause the thing actually shaking the trees to decide there were too many trees in the way, and it started knocking them over. There were great cracking noises as the hundred-plus foot thick trunks snapped, and massive whooshes as the giant trees crashed to the ground. They smashed the black furry things in a horrific (yet slightly pretty) bright rose paste. With black fur accents. It was going to be a gory fight.
I pulled out my sword and gave it a few swings to get used to the weight. I already missed having my unfillable knapsack, because I could’ve gotten out a shield. Or a spear. Or lots of spears. Hell, I could even start pulling out broken furniture and dropping it on the furry assholes climbing up.
Finally, the big fucker came on the scene. Huge trees s fell against the great cliff. I stood there with my mouth open, wondering just what the fuck I was up against. Or we were up against.
Because, and I think this is the most eloquent way to put it, we were fucked.
Chapter Twenty
The creature, or monster or whatever you want to call it, was so big it hard to really comprehend what the fuck I was seeing. And it’s not like I didn’t have experience with big. The wyrm matriarch was big. But this was like someone slapped two leaning towers of Pisa onto the back of the Notre Dame, painted the whole thing with a dinosaur brush, and then somehow got it to walk.
The monster had two thick necks topped with bulbous heads. They had black orbs for eyes, and kind of squished snouts, filled with short pointy teeth. (Short being a relative descriptor in this case.) I could see two legs at the front, with something between hands and paws at the ends. The beast had a rather short, fat body, stout I guess, with a bunch of small legs propelling it forward. Taken as a whole, the creature didn’t make much sense. Hell, taken in any size, it didn’t make sense. It was bizarre, grotesque, and pushing the boundaries of reality. At least to me.
