The Orb of Wrath (The Merchant's Destiny Book 1)

by Nic Weissman

  Fortunately, Phoroz had a valuable ring of teleportation, allowing him to go almost anywhere in the Kingdom in a blink of an eye; although he could only use it once a day. So he had reached Knocas, a small town on the edge of the Mark of Calen, near the border with the kingdom of orcs and the Mark of Golsou, when that same afternoon he had been doing some errands for Vargarr in the capital.

  Having no time to lose, he came in and went straight to the bartender who was working behind the bar.

  “I'm looking for a gnome. He calls himself Kurbus,” he said directly.

  “And who is looking for him, if I may know?” the man asked.

  “No. You can't know,” the elf unceremoniously snapped.

  The innkeeper was embarrassed. He didn't expect such a response. This guy gave him chills with his red eyes and dark skin. Some would have labeled the dark elf, even, as unnatural. He had seen some of them in the past, but fortunately hadn't had to deal with them often. The hairs on his neck stood on end. The man decided not to tempt fate and, looking down without saying a word, pointed to a room at the back of the tavern.

  Phoroz said nothing and just headed there. He could hear a huge uproar. He didn't know if a group of men was having fun or if they were fighting. Peering into the room, he saw a group of about eight people, all with large drinks before them. Four of them were badly singing a song; or at least it seemed that they tried. The other four appeared to be engaged in a heated argument. Phoroz soon realized that they were all pretty drunk.

  In the group of the arguing men, there was a gnome of about a step high that seemed to fight with everybody else at once. He reproached them while the veins of his neck were swollen, red with anger. The others retorted, with no less intensity, and seemed to be all against him. The dark elf could not understand the details of the discussion, but it appeared to be related to determining who the best jousting knight champion in the Kingdom was.

  Then one of the men who had argued for a moment lost control of his bowels, because a fart sound echoed through the room. All the people arguing stopped and suddenly began to look at one another very serious. Then, to Phoroz's surprise, the gnome burst into a loud laughter and moments later everyone in the room accompanied him. They all laughed and laughed. Given the precarious state in which they were in, one of the men fell from his chair with laughter, and kept laughing on the floor, making no attempt to get up. Several of them had tears running down their faces, because of their decided and convulsive laughter. Phoroz didn't know if the gnome was redder now because he was laughing, or moments ago when he was pierced with anger.

  The elf had to wait a while for the tempers to calm down, it did not seem appropriate to interrupt this moment of fraternization. Furthermore, he feared the reaction he might receive if he did. When he saw that he had stopped laughing, like asking for a truce, Phoroz approached Kurbus and addressed him with great respect, presented himself and asked for a moment to talk to him. The gnome then tried to persuade him to sit with them and drink a large jug of beer, since they all were welcome there. The elf had to politely refuse four times before Kurbus stopped and agreed to sit down with him a few minutes away from the room.

  With a relaxed mood, Phoroz said that he had heard of Kurbus' good qualities and his good knowledge of a part of the territory beyond the border, within the realm of Fugor. Mentioning this, the gnome's face became very serious. It was as if the level of alcohol had descended suddenly, because from that moment his tongue stopped jamming as he talked and sounded sober.

  Phoroz described the details of the mission they had for him and the reward he'd receive. Also, that they had little time and that they should leave together in the morning. The elf gave the gnome a gold bag with the advancement of his fees. Kurbus hefted the bag, assessing whether it was worth the risk and, after a moment's hesitation, left the bag on the table, right in the middle.

  “I need to know more. I want to understand why I need to do this. Not every day people ask me to enter alone in orc territory. What is the real purpose of this mission? What are you going to get if I'm successful?” asked the gnome seriously.

  Phoroz was thoughtful. Kurbus's request was fair, but put him in a bind. He had been asked to keep all the details limited to a minimum. After hesitating for a moment, he decided to tell the gnome the truth.

  CHAPTER 3: THE CAVE

  The opening of the cave must have been about four steps high and six wide. From their position at the bottom of the depression, the group couldn't see anything of its interior, not even the elf. It was very dark. Erion approached the opening slow and introduced the arm that was carrying the torch. Then he quickly retreated as he heard some unpleasant squeaks. They were a lot of small bats flying out of the cave at high speed. Probably they lay near the entrance, and the young man had bothered them. They seemed really scared.

  They were excited by the prospect of the adventure that they were about to face and understood that the real difficulties were yet to begin.

  “We must prepare before entering,” Mithir said.

  “Yes,” Ithelas agreed, “we don't know what we will find.”

  Mithir began making strange gestures. He seemed to be casting a spell... to himself. Ithelas then began a prayer and some of his gestures seemed to point to his father. Then they saw a ray of red light that united them both for a moment and then vanished.

  “How long will the effects last?” asked the knight.

  “Several hours. Until the middle of the afternoon, more or less,” said the cleric.

  “What's that spell?” asked the curious magician.

  “It's a protection spell. My father earns a defensive advantage and also half of his injuries won't affect him. They will be transferred to me. Which has certain advantages because I can heal more easily than the others in the midst of combat,” Ithelas said.

  “Interesting. I have also protected myself with an armor spell, but this only works for me,” Mithir said.

  The magician began releasing another spell, this time on his cane, and watched as the top of it began to emit an intense light. It shone more than Erion's torch. They all thought that with those two lights it would be sufficient. Possibly with Mithir's it would suffice if they advanced close together; but they decided to keep the torch lit just in case. The magician then took several arrows from his backpack. The tip was painted with white chalk.

  “What I promised,” he said, as he handed them to Samar.

  They all left their backpacks on the floor and adjusted their clothes and armor. Erion and Samar wore studded leather armor and Thost and his son wore chain mail armor under their doublet. Mithir only wore ordinary clothes. Samar prepared and carefully placed her quiver to access it without bothering her backpack. Then she took her bow and prepared an arrow. Thost drew his bastard sword and picked up a small shield with the other hand. Ithelas prepared his mace, but left his shield hanging from his back for now. Erion had his big crossbow in his arms with an arrow ready. He handed Ithelas the torch to be ready to shoot at any moment. The cleric agreed as he could use his free hand.

  Ithelas went it first, followed by Samar, Mithir, Erion and Thost. The cave was really dark. The torch lit about seven or eight steps in front of them, but farther than that they could not see a thing. As they were entering the roof of the cavern seemed increasingly high. They were going down slightly. The cave was wide and the floor alternated rocks and earth, though it was quite regular. Still, they tried to be careful of where they walked.

  Some parts of the wall of the cave were covered with green moss. It seemed to be a cave with a lot of moisture. The air was stale, heavy, as if it had no ventilation, but was perfectly breathable; or so they thought.

  After walking for a while they came to a sort of fork. The cave was divided into two paths; one continued to descend slightly to the right; the other seemed to go up, toward the left. Erion took the map that the dark elf had given them and reviewed it again. They found no useful information to know which path to choose. Th
e map only contained information to help them locate the entrance to the cave, but didn't give any detail of what was inside; and Phoroz hadn't told them anything about it. After some discussion they decided to take the road to the left, with the hope that, because it ascended, it would be the way out.

  They went on the road with the same order they had had so far. The cave began to narrow and the roof was again visible to them. After advancing for a while, they began to hear a sound. It was like a very faint beep. Then they reached another fork. This time the road was divided into three.

  “This is more complicated than I expected,” Erion said.

  “Listen. The sound seems to come from the left,” Samar said.

  “It's true,” confirmed Ithelas.

  They decided to continue in that direction. Perhaps the sound came from the surface, though none could identify what produced it. Suddenly they stopped ascending and a few steps ahead the path began to descend again. Soon they came to a place where the cave widened into a large cavern that seemed less dark than anything they had encountered so far. In the cave there were multiple giant orange mushrooms. Some also had white spots. They must be more than a step height and there were hundreds of them. All of them spaced out covered the entire surface of the cavern and were distributed almost symmetrically. There were several steps of separation between them, so it wouldn't be a problem crossing the whole room without touching them.

  Samar then pointed up to a corner at the back of the room. It was natural light. There seemed to be an exit there, but it would be complicated. They would have to climb the wall of the cave, perhaps a height of about fifteen steps. They'd need the climbing equipment.

  They began to cross the huge cavern towards the opening, being careful not to approach any of the giant mushrooms. They had the opportunity to see them up close. They were very nice, with lively colors in the midst of the dark. They were also quite strange. They appeared to be of two different types. The ones with the white spots had a more conventional shape, while the others also had strange, long, slender green branches hanging from their cap, almost reaching the ground. They also had, at the bottom of the base, a lot of short vertical rods that reached the floor. It looked like the base of the mushroom was really leaning on those rods.

  When they had crossed half the cavern, Ithelas stopped and asked them to do the same. Erion could see the cleric's face of anguish and preoccupation; he looked back to the way they had come with bewildered eyes. Suddenly they saw him open his eyes wide and said:

  “They're moving!”

  “What? Who?” Thost asked.

  “The mushrooms, the orange ones! Look, there's almost no clear path for us to return,” Ithelas said, pointing backwards.

  “Look. They are moving ahead also,” Samar said uneasily. “They're surrounding us!”

  The group began to look in all directions. Indeed, it seemed like all the orange mushrooms had shifted slightly toward the center of the cave, where the group was and could not see any clear path in any direction. They saw, then, as the rods of the base of the mushroom seemed to move slowly, as if they were a thousand little feet.

  “They're raising their arms... or whatever those are!” Erion said.

  The strange, thin green branches now stood in all directions, undulating as if they were the tentacles of an octopus of the plant kingdom. All the mushrooms had raised their tentacles at once in a surprisingly coordinated movement. The mushrooms with the white spots, however, remained motionless in the same place. Everyone in the group prepared their weapons, but no one was quite sure what to do.

  “Let's try to breach their formation in that direction,” Thost said, pointing the way by which they'd come. “Shoot those two mushrooms!”

  Samar shot first and hit one of the giant mushrooms in its head. The arrow hit and a viscous liquid began to flow from the wound. Then Erion fired his crossbow, hitting the second white mushroom, also getting a clear and similar result to that of the elf. Nevertheless, both mushrooms continued to move toward them and where closing in. Ithelas made one of his magical prayers and immediately said loudly that the tentacles of the mushrooms were poisonous; but that the other mushrooms that were still were not.

  Mithir was ready to cast a spell but stopped to evaluate what to do and finally decided to wait. The resources of a magician were powerful but very limited in number and a key to differentiate a good magician from a bad one was the ability to use these resources wisely. While Erion was engaged in the laborious task of reloading his crossbow, Samar could carry with agility and speed her bow and launched a new shot that hit the first mushroom. This second arrow caused the fungus to stop and then collapse on the ground.

  Thost reassessed the situation and gave further instructions. The mushrooms were not as strong. But one blow was not enough. They knew that, at least in the head, they had some vulnerability. They could spot about three rows of closely spaced fungi, which they would have to overcome to open the gap. This meant they would have to finish off at least six mushrooms to have enough space to get away. They had to finish off five more, pointing in the same direction. The poisonous tentacles were quite long, about a step and a half, so it was better to stick with ranged attacks as long as they could.

  Mithir decided to launch his orange shell spell. The first three balls hit the second fungus that was coming right behind the one that Samar has struck. The third impact made the mushroom collapse. The fourth and final projectile was facing the oncoming fungus that Erion had struck with his arrow. Although, as always, the ball did hit its target, the mushroom kept going towards them.

  Finally, Erion had loaded his crossbow and fired again at the same fungus, but this time he rushed and barely missed the shot. Samar fired an instant later, finishing the mushroom off. Three more now lay on the floor of the cave marking an opening in the closed line of enemies, but it was still not enough to have a way out. The siege continued, narrowing on them, and their time was running out. The fungi were almost upon them.

  Mithir understood they would not have enough time to finish opening a path before the mushrooms reached them. He also understood that a combat against many enemies around them, would pose serious consequences for the group; possibly even fatal ones. So he decided to use more drastic measures. He prepared a spell that he had used in the previous days and a crackling fire ball out of his hands at high speed against their enemies. It crashed into one of the mushrooms from the second line, in the area where they had concentrated their attacks. The blast of the impact reached ten fungi. The air was filled suddenly with a stinking smell of fried mushrooms. Almost all that were directly hit felt dead on the ground. Finally they had wide enough room to escape.

  The group started running back to the cave they had entered. They crossed the enemy front stepping over the dead fungi. They had to step on some of them, but everyone tried to avoid any contact with the tentacles lying inert on the ground. They had managed to cross beyond the fence when Samar, running up the group, noticed a puncture in her right ankle. One of the defeated mushrooms was not dead and had managed to lift one of its tentacles, grabbing her just as the elf was about to be out of reach. Thost immediately appeared and struck the tentacle with his sword; it was severed instantly. Samar continued walking, with a strong limp, with the help of the knight. The group was safe in the cave. The cave was located at a slightly lower level, about a step down. They were definitely out of the reach of the fungi.

  Samar suddenly felt very weak and dizzy. Ithelas removed the remains of the tentacle using a knife, being careful not to touch it. The cleric examined his friend and reported to the group that Samar was poisoned. The poison did not seem threatening, but it did have a great weakening effect and that weakness was likely to be increased during the next hour. Ithelas took a bag of herbs from his backpack and, after selecting a few, the crushed and mixed them with a little water. Then he gave it to the elf for her to drink.

  “This will stop the spread of the poison, although it may not cure yo
ur symptoms. In a little while we'll examine you again and decide whether to use more powerful medicines,” said the cleric.

  “I feel a little weak, but I think I'm fine. I'd rather not have to use one of the antidote potions. They are extremely expensive. Can't you give me some more of that concoction later?” Samar asked.

  “Sure we can. But it probably won't help you improve. The symptoms should go away naturally in one or two days. We can decide a little later what to do depending on how you feel. Can you walk?” asked Ithelas

  “I think so,” said the elf.

  The group resumed the march. Erion and Thost were in the front, Ithelas closed the formation and Samar that walked leaning on Mithir was in the middle. She still limped but at least could move forward. They retraced their steps to the junction. There they took another trail of the fork. Not long after they returned to the same crossing. The two paths they hadn't explored are connected to each other. They had two options. They could return to the cave of the giant mushrooms, break through them and then climb the steep wall to the skylight, hoping that it communicated with the outside. At least this time the mushrooms would not catch them by surprise. The other option was to return to the main cave where there was another downward path that they had not explored yet. After some discussion they decided that the mushrooms would be a difficult choice for sure and they were not even sure that after all the effort of climbing to the skylight they could access the castle’s valley. So, they agreed to try the other option.

  They walked slowly and with caution, alert to any sound or sign of danger. But all seemed quiet. A while later, they were again at the fork and decided to stop there.