by Pirateaba
Yvlon took a few steps and stumbled. Instantly, Ksmvr and Ceria grabbed her shoulder before she could fall. The taller woman smiled gratefully at them. Pisces heaved himself up with a groan and picked up the smallest pack.
“If we must persist, let us do so with dignity. Onwards, then.”
He lurched forwards, ignoring the look the other three gave him. But he was right, and soon enough Ceria and Yvlon and Ksmvr were stumbling up, out of the tunnels, out of Albez. They had seen the dungeon and retrieved the treasure.
But none of them were smiling.
—-
“Cold.”
Ceria gritted her teeth as she walked through the snow. Pisces sneezed; Yvlon made a face.
“How’re your arms, Yvlon?”
“Just the same as when you last asked, Ceria.”
“Sorry.”
“No—I apologize.”
“Got another spell in you, Springwalker?”
Pisces chattered as he stumbled forwards in the freezing drifts. Ceria grimaced, but made a flame in her palm, feeding it as much mana as possible. Yvlon and Pisces crowded around, warming their hands.
Somehow, after all their battles in the dungeon under Albez, the Horns of Hammerad had forgotten that it was, in fact, the middle of winter above. It had been a nasty surprise to all of them to emerge into a light snow shower, but at least it hadn’t been a blizzard.
Pisces sighed as his hands grew warmer, and Yvlon grunted. She was trying to warm the metal stuck to her arms, and Ceria knew she had to be coldest since the metal lost its warmth faster than bare skin.
“Sure we’re going the right way?”
“I think so. The mountains are that way—we’ve got to be close. Maybe it’s over that incline over there?”
“Damn snow makes everything invisible. I can’t even see the forests—just white.”
Yvlon grumbled, swearing out loud for one of the first times in Ceria’s hearing. Pisces grunted. He glanced over his shoulder and called out.
“Ksmvr! Are you okay?”
“I am…well…thank you…Comrade Pisces.”
The puffing, slightly out-of-breath reply was at odds with the way Ksmvr diligently kept his steady, unfaltering pace. He slowly trudged forwards, dragging the bulk of their goods along the ground. The one good thing the weather had given the Horns of Hammerad was that they’d been able to make a makeshift sled for Ksmvr to drag along.
“You sure you don’t need help?”
Ceria and Yvlon eyed the Antinium with some concern. He shook his head, although his voice was no less strained.
“I am…designed for heavy labor. I will not…let the team down.”
“You won’t. Just let us know, okay?”
“Affirmative.”
Ksmvr walked past the others, gaining a few feet before they stopped huddling around the fire and kept walking. He didn’t stop. He was like a machine, like any other member of his kind, Ceria supposed. But it was different with Ksmvr. He was working for the sake of his team, not the other Antinium. Somehow, that made him feel that much more valuable to the others.
“Let’s keep moving.”
Ceria let the flame fade from her hands and Pisces and Yvlon dropped their arms with a sigh. All three staggered slightly before the momentum kept them going. Ahead, Ksmvr slipped on a patch of snow but regained his footing and took another step forwards.
They were all reaching the end of their physical endurance. Ceria had already passed around the hard biscuit and dried meat in their packs—the only rations they had left—and now the only thing keeping the adventurers going was the thought of food and rest.
No one was smiling. No one really talked, except for Ceria, and only then to make sure no one else was freezing. The Horns of Hammerad moved in…if not depression, something reminiscent of it.
Yes, they had found treasure in Albez, among the ruins. Yes, they had gone through traps and against all odds survived. But what had they for their trouble?
One burned spellbook, some damaged magical artifacts practically leaking magic, a backpack full of dead adventurer’s gear, and a small bag that was almost definitely trapped with magic way above their ability to dispel. Oh, and nearly eighty pounds of gold and fused gemstones.
It was a win, and it would have been cause for celebration for over a week in the old Horns of Hammerad. But in Ceria’s weary mind, there was more than a bit of regret and failure she couldn’t shake.
She remembered the glimmering staff and the personal arms and equipment of a powerful mage of the past, one capable of creating magical traps and a summoned construct that could last for hundreds or thousands of years.
“But we’re alive.”
“What was that, Ceria?”
“Nothing.”
They weren’t a proper Silver-rank team, not yet. Individually they were all better than average, but together they still had their differences. But they’d come through their first adventure, their first dungeon alive and in once piece.
That had to count for something. It did count.
“There’s the city.”
Pisces called out as he crested the incline. Ceria raised her head and smiled in relief.
“Remendia?”
“It’s got walls and a gate. That’s all I want.”
“Okay, let’s get in there.”
“Should we plan out where we go once we get in the city? In case we get separated?”
Confused, Ceria looked at Yvlon.
“What? Why?”
The woman gave Ceria a weary grin.
“We’re entering the city with a fortune in gold and treasure, Ceria. If we don’t get this stuff under guard quick, it’ll be gone before we get to the market.”
Ceria muttered a half-Elven curse word involving flowers.
“I forgot that. You’re right. Ksmvr, Pisces, we’ve got to get the treasure to the Adventurer’s Guild the instant we get through the gates.”
“Will it be safe there?”
“Should be. And if it’s not, the Adventurer’s Guild has to compensate us. Just don’t stop, don’t drop the bags—Ksmvr, spread it out so we can all carry it—and don’t promise anyone anything, okay?”
Pisces nodded as Ksmvr began dividing the treasure. He grunted as he lifted his pack, but there was a smile on his face. The Antinium nodded.
“Got it.”
“We will heed your instructions.”
“Okay.”
Ceria took a breath. She didn’t know what to say. Here they were, at the end of their quest and—well, what should she tell them? She was their Captain, even if they’d elected her in a second. But hadn’t it been that way with Calruz? He’d always made his team feel like they were a success, even after the hardest of missions. What had he said?
She couldn’t remember the words, but Ceria remembered the feeling. She called on that now, and looked the other Horns of Hammerad in the eye.
“Heads held high, everyone. It’s been a long journey, but we did it. We found treasure in Albez—probably the biggest haul in over a decade! If that’s not worth a bit of pride, I don’t know what is.”
She saw three pairs of eyes on her, and three people smiled. One, a young woman, grinned and grimaced in pain, but her eyes were steady. The young man with haunted eyes and an expression more used to sneering than honest emotion gave her a true smile now that reminded her of the past. And the Antinium opened his mandibles, his face foreign and to some, a face of nightmares. But he was smiling too.
Ceria pointed towards the walls of the city. The guards at the wall hadn’t spotted them yet; there was a bit of foot traffic navigating the frozen road into the city, but she was sure they would stand out the moment they got close. Gold had its own glitter.
“It’s going to be Humans crawling all over us when we get in, so let’s stick together. If you get lost, shout and we’ll be along. Don’t drop anything and remember, we’re adventurers. We stick together.”
She led them down the hill
, towards the gates. Her legs were exhausted, but Ceria put more energy into them. They were here, safe! She smiled up at the guards on the walls, never happier to see a Human in her life. She heard a shout as they spotted the armed warriors approaching—not too warily—adventurers were a common sight. She raised a hand to wave up at them, waiting for them to notice the gold—
“Antinium at the gates! We’re under attack!”
“What?”
Ceria heard the panicked shout and with a shock, realized the guards were raising their bows and calling the alarm. She shouted desperately and waved at them—it was just Ksmvr! How could they not tell he was alone and with them? But then she saw the arrows at the strings and screamed.
“Ksmvr! Watch out!”
The Antinium had been waving up at the wall, copying Ceria. As soon as he saw the bows he dropped his pack and tried to take cover in the snow. He dove out of the way as a rain of arrows thudded into the ground next to him. The Antinium stood back up and staggered as an arrow sprouted from his right shoulder.
“Stop! Stop, damn you!”
Ceria shouted up at the wall, but no one was listening. The [Guardsmen] were preparing another volley. She saw someone run past her and then saw Yvlon. The woman threw herself in front of Ksmvr, holding the remnant of her plate armor and her pack filled with the gold. She crouched in front of the Antinium as arrows rained down on them again. Her protection wasn’t perfect, but the hail of arrows mostly bounced off her pack and armor. Ksmvr hissed as an arrow struck his leg and another glanced off his lower back, but he didn’t move.
“Cease fire!”
This time Pisces took up the call. He raised his voice and then Ceria remembered she had magic. She touched her throat and then bellowed.
“Stop shooting you damn Humans! We’re adventurers!”
Her voice bounced off the walls and she heard confused shouting. The Humans lowered their bows for a second, and then someone who looked like an officer was running, pointing at them. Ceria and Pisces ran over to Yvlon, watching the [Guardsmen] warily. No more arrows flew down from the walls, and after a second, Ceria saw people rushing down the battlements.
Yvlon crouched beside Ksmvr, still shielding him. The Antinium was trying to get up and she was holding him down.
“Don’t move. They might loose another volley. Ksmvr, are you okay?”
“I am fine. Captain, permission to return fire?”
“Do you have a bow?”
“…Permission to throw things?”
“No. Just hold on.”
Ceria watched as the people on the wall shouted. Then, one of them stood up and raised a flag. It was white. Pisces snorted at it.
“Is that supposed to mean they surrender? Or that they’re not going to try and kill us?”
“Either one works for me. Oh look, now they’ve noticed the gold. They’re sending a delegation.”
Yvlon just sighed. She helped Ksmvr up. The Antinium grunted as he snapped the shaft of the arrow in his leg. The one in his shoulder he left alone as he hefted his pack.
“Adventurers! The [Guardsmen] are standing down! The gates are open!”
Someone was shouting from the walls. Ceria looked up and growled.
“That’s all they can say?”
She raised her skeletal hand and gave the [Guardsmen] on the wall an unmistakable gesture. Then she looked around. Pisces was giving the people clustered at the gates an evil eye. Yvlon was helping Ksmvr walk forwards, and the Antinium was dragging his pack. Everyone had the same grim expression on their face. She nodded.
“New plan. We go in and if anyone gets in our way, you have my full permission to hit them. Stick together, and until we get to the Adventurer’s Guild and log our claim, no one slows us down.”
There was indeed a group of anxious-looking people forming at the gates. Ceria scowled. Pisces rubbed at his face and spoke to no one in particular.
“I really hate this continent.”
“Humans.”
“I would like to not have this arrow in my leg.”
“Adventurer’s Guild and bed. And I will kick anyone who gets in our way.”
For once it looked like they all had something they could agree on.
—-
What happened when adventurers came back from a dungeon? For all that the stories of adventurers returning with fame and fortune were told to every child, it was rare enough that no one had any structure to what came next.
But there was a certain rhythm to things. Assuming the adventurers were not being pursued by monsters or grievously injured—and assuming they came back successfully bearing treasure, not laden down with failure and regret—there was inevitably a lot of fuss.
It began at the walls. The [Guardsmen] on duty would always be the first to notice adventurers coming in, and there was a certain walk the triumphant had. Not to mention the glitter of gold. They would be the first to shout the news, and then it was just a matter of who was standing closest to the gates.
Everyone loved treasure. True, Drakes and Humans were known to love it most of all, but there wasn’t an adult or child who wouldn’t drop whatever they were doing and rush to see what wonders had been unearthed by the brave souls who had found some ancient tomb or lair.
Next would come the procession, as the adventurers made their way through a crowd only too willing to take their burdens off their shoulders—and run away with it. Depending on the efficiency of the local City Watch, the streets would be kept clear for the adventurers to make their way to their Guild. In the worst case scenario, the party of weary warriors would have to fight their way through a mob, fending off [Pickpockets] and even attacks with blade and spell.
And then would come the moment they arrived at their Guild, where the doors would be thrown open and the treasure displayed and sorted, and the adventurers would be able to rest, knowing their hard-won earnings were safely stored away and guarded by spell and lock. They would then either drink until they were unconscious, eat half a roasted pig, do both, or simply fall asleep there and then.
That was the way an adventurers’ return went. Events almost always transpired according to this formula, mainly because there was only a finite number of ways people bearing treasure and wealth beyond imagining were greeted. Shooting arrows at them was a first, and so the Horns of Hammerad entered the city in a rather different way than the standard.
“Move it!”
Ceria fired an [Ice Spike] spell over the heads of the first fawning delegation that came to greet them. The people screamed and ducked, which made progressing far easier. She and the other Horns of Hammerad marched through the streets, ignoring the voices that pressed around them.
“Honored adventurers, please excuse—”
“Is that an Antinium? Are they attacking?”
“You’re injured! Let us help—”
There were all too many hands reaching for the gold poking out of the bags the adventurers carried. Pisces snarled as a boy reached out for his pack.
“Touch my bag child, and I will reanimate your corpse just so I can beat it to death again.”
The boy fled, but there were many more to take his place. Yvlon shouldered people aside, face set.
“Make way! We’ve got wounded! Where’s the Adventurer’s Guild?”
Fortunately it wasn’t too far down the street. Ceria ignored the crowds and the questions. She threw fire on the ground and people scattered—Pisces blew cold air at people, making them retreat. Ksmvr had his own bubble of space.
“If anyone touches me, I will be forced to defend myself with non-lethal but exceptionally painful force.”
No one went near him, and through shouting, pushing, and mainly the last dregs of their strength, the Horns of Hammerad burst through the doors of the Adventurer’s Guild. Men and women in armor, mages sitting at tables, a [Rogue] dicing with an [Archer], even an armored Minotaur all stopped and stared at the crowd. And then at the Horns of Hammerad.
Ceria lifted her pack
, hearing the fabric ripping and praying it wouldn’t give out at this last moment. She staggered towards the desk, and looked into the eyes of a startled male [Receptionist]. He gaped down at her, and at her three companions, all holding gold, magical swords—
“Hey.”
The half-Elf croaked the words out loud and then realized there was silence. Suddenly, the shouting had gone still, and she realized that everyone was looking at her. She looked up, and saw the man staring at her, transfixed. What? Was there something on her face?
Was it her burnt hair, her travel-stained garments? The fortune in gold in her pack, the way Yvlon’s armor had melted onto her arms? Ksmvr, the arrows sticking out from his body? Pisces, covered in grime and dust but with magic glimmering at his fingertips? Or was it her, Ceria, a half-Elf with one skeletal hand who looked like she’d dug herself out of the ground?
“—I want…”
Ceria croaked the words in the silence. The [Receptionist], the adventurers—the people crowding around the doorway—everyone’s eyes were on her. She took a breath, coughed.
“—I want a full receipt for everything we drop off. And then I want a bed in an inn, but before that my companion needs your best [Healer] and potions, immediately.”
The man just stared at her. His lip was trembling, Ceria noticed. Was he that afraid? That stunned? What should she say? But then she felt people stepping up next to her, three of them. Pisces glared at the man at the desk.
“And we want food.”
Yvlon nodded, exhausted.
“And a bed. Did you mention that, Ceria?”
Pisces pulled at his robes, vomit-stained, bloody, burnt.
“And I would like a change of clothes. A new robe.”
Ksmvr raised a hand and pointed with another hand to his shoulder.
“I would like someone to pull the arrow out of my side.”
The spell broke. The man quavered, stepped back, stared at Ceria.
“C-certainly. We can do all that. But ah, who are you? An adventuring team no doubt?”
“Who are we?”
Ceria stared at him blankly, but then realized she hadn’t introduced herself. It was customary for any new team to do so immediately, but she’d been so used to Selys knowing them on sight she hadn’t bothered. She gestured at her teammates and herself.
