At Large

by Andrew Seiple

  Thomasi’s voice was a whisper. “What?”

  “The logs. They have faces. Goblin faces, I guess.”

  “Totem poles. They put them around settlements to warn people away,” Thomasi said, coming closer. He stayed well away from the gory mess, though. “These are new, which means this tribe was new.”

  “I wonder…” Renny mused and headed toward the cave.

  “Hey!” Chase snapped, ignoring the pain from her throbbing skull. “Be careful.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” Renny said. “Adventurer, remember?”

  “That isn’t necessarily reassuring,” Thomasi said, following the little fox. “I’ve known too many adventurers.”

  “Just give me a second,” Renny said.

  And then he disappeared.

  Chase wasn’t too worried. Renny was a Sensate, someone who focused on illusions and manipulating the five senses. He could disappear. That was a thing he did, sometimes.

  Except wait, he hadn’t said the skill he was using. He had to speak in order to use his Sensate illusions! Chase started forward, worried, but just as she was about to take her first shuddering step into a big clotted puddle, Renny reappeared.

  “Ah,” Thomasi said. “It’s a dungeon.”

  And it took every bit of self-control that Chase had not to bolt down the hillside. Her ears strained to stand upright in alarm under her headscarf, and she shook, realizing just how close danger was. “Let’s go,” she whispered. “Let’s go!” she said again, risking the shout.

  Thomasi considered her. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “We could explore it,” Renny offered. “If this is a new settlement then it’s not that big, probably.”

  “No, and I’ll tell you why when we’re out of here,” Thomasi said. “Come now and mind your feet.”

  “Paws,” Renny corrected. “At least let me search the bodies. There may be something useful.”

  “Can you find us down the path?” Thomasi asked.

  “Yes. Once I’m away from all this blood. It’s kind of overpowering.”

  “We’ll go slowly. Catch up fast.”

  Thomasi went slowly. Chase didn’t. All her grogginess had just been replaced by fear.

  A fear that seemed to puzzle her human companion. “Slow down,” he commanded as she started to outpace him. “And tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

  “It’s a dungeon,” Chase said. “Those things are full of wicked monsters that eat people!”

  “Well you’re not wrong,” he said, tugging on his goatee. “As reasons go that’s a pretty good one to be afraid. But still, it’s only goblins.”

  “Goblins are bad enough. But it’s a dungeon. They spit out monsters over and over, and they draw in horrible people who raid them! People who do stuff like break into your house, and rob your chests, and try to sell the stuff back to you as if they hadn’t nicked it not five minutes ago—” she broke off. Thomasi was trying to restrain laughter. “What’s so funny?”

  “Ah, well. You’re not wrong about the impact dungeons have on nearby towns. But you no longer have a house, or really much to steal at all. We don’t have to live around here, either. So what’s to be afraid of?”

  “Well…” she paused. “Well.” No, she didn’t have a house anymore, did she? This was adventuring. Even if she wasn’t an adventurer, not in the bad sense of the word, anyhow. “I’m certainly not going to raid the dungeon. Or break into anyone’s house and take their things.”

  “You might change your mind, given the right house,” Thomasi said. Then he half turned. Chase heard it a minute later and turned as well, as brush crackled behind them… but it was just Renny. She slowed her pace, as did Thomasi.

  The pause gave her time to consider. Her perspective on dungeons, the almost primal fear they inspired, all that had come from Bothernot. It had been taught by halvens who were happy and comfy and didn’t want their home to change or to have to deal with anything risky or exciting in the slightest.

  But now Chase wasn’t a part of that anymore. She had gotten her wish. She was adventuring, now. The old reactions might not be the best ones. Although, Thomasi had insisted that they leave. So maybe her instincts were good after all.

  It was all very confusing, and another reminder that her hometown had left its mark on her. Though now that she saw this particular string, she knew she could fight it, perhaps eventually snap it, if she had to.

  “Did you find anything useful?” Thomasi asked.

  “No,” Renny said, and he had a small frown on his face, wrinkling his muzzle up adorably. “Somebody else had already searched them.”

  “Oh, so adventurers killed them,” Chase said, relaxing.

  “Maybe. But I didn’t smell humans or anything else except wolves.”

  “You’re certain of that?” Thomasi asked.

  “Very.”

  “Did you smell them inside the dungeon when you went in?”

  “Um… let me think.” Fortunately, Renny was very intelligent. His memory wasn’t perfect, but it did the trick this time. “No. No I didn’t.”

  Thomasi nodded. “Then we need to keep moving, on the off chance the killers are still in the dungeon. We don’t want to be anywhere near here when they come out.”

  “Wait,” Chase asked, confused. “Why should we worry? He just said he didn’t smell any wolves in the dungeon.”

  “And if that were a normal cave you’d be right: we wouldn’t have to worry. But it’s a dungeon.” Thomasi rapped his walking stick on the ground as he moved, glancing down at her now and again to make sure she paid attention. “It was possible that the goblins had wolves. Some goblins are wolfriders, after all. If that was the case, then there would be wolf smell in the dungeon… it would have been their lair. But if there was no wolf-smell in the dungeon, it means that the wolf-things likely killed the goblins outside, then went inside to run through the dungeon. Which means that they’re in one instance of the dungeon.”

  “Instance?” Chase frowned.

  “That’s an odd word for it,” Renny added. “But I know what you’re talking about. When a group goes into a dungeon together, it creates a unique pocket dimension. If another group goes in more than a few minutes later, then the dungeon creates a new pocket dimension for them. The two groups can never actually meet or interact in the same dungeon.”

  “Pocket dimensions. Yes, it would seem like…” Thomasi cleared his throat. “That’s a good explanation. It also makes dungeons a good way of ditching pursuit. Vaffanculo hid out in one for a long time once the purges started.”

  Chase winced. “Please just call him the Necromancer. His name is just rude.”

  “Hid out in one?” Renny looked up to Thomasi.

  “Yes. He went into a dungeon and stayed in there, knowing that nobody could come in after him, not while he was in his own private, ah, pocket dimension. Would have worked if he hadn’t run out of food. Undead-themed dungeons are bad for that sort of thing and unless you go through some seriously hard quests first, it’s difficult to make cannibalism work.”

  He said that last horrific sentence so matter-so-factly, and it made Chase look at him from the side of her eye. He probably didn’t mean anything by it. Still, he’d said it awfully cavalierly.

  “Why didn’t they just seal the dungeon? His enemies, I mean?” Renny asked.

  “What do you mean?” Thomasi asked.

  “Why didn’t they run through it and take the core out?”

  Thomasi stopped, so abruptly that the pair of smaller friends turned to stare at him. They watched him open and close his mouth. Then his eyes narrowed and he moved his hand up to his lips… then hesitated and lowered it again. “I’ve honestly never heard of a thing like that.”

  “I haven’t either,” Chase confessed, and that seemed to set him at ease. She shifted to catch Renny’s eyes. “What’s all this about seals and cores?”

  “Maybe it’s not common knowledge here. Come to think of it I learned it from my gu
ild school. Basically, every dungeon has a place in it where you can get access to a special place called a core chamber. It’s usually behind the boss. It’s full of… energy pylons. One of them holds a crystal that’s the core. If you take it out the dungeon closes shortly afterward, and everything left in the dungeon is either destroyed or ejected outside, all at once.”

  “Really?” Thomasi asked. “That sounds like poor design, to me.”

  “Well, it’s the only way to shut down dungeons permanently,” Renny said. “Although you can take the core and start up a dungeon somewhere else with it. Then you can sit in the pylons and copies of you go out into the dungeon and fight adventurers and stuff. If you want to, I guess. I’m not sure how exactly that part works, we weren’t taught that.”

  “So there is a way to get rid of dungeons? That’s good,” Chase said. Her head hurt less now. Still, she knew she’d need plenty of rest tonight. All this excitement and fear was bad for her nerves.

  “Yeah,” Renny said. “It’s dangerous to leave dungeons alone for too long. They just get more powerful. But the treasure’s good, so usually adventurers come through and keep them from getting too tough too quickly. And our Council has specialized troops that can move in and seal dungeons if the need arises. How do people handle it here?”

  “I’m not sure,” Chase said. “We’re taught to run if we find anything that even looks like a dungeon and report it to the capital. I guess they maybe have people that do the same thing. We’ve never had one, so it’s never been an issue, really.”

  Renny nodded. “If there weren’t wolf-things around, I could go back and show you how to seal one. I think so, anyway. If it’s just goblins in there it probably wouldn’t be too hard. But doing that would kick the killers out of the dungeon and us with them, so that’s probably a bad idea.”

  “Wolf-things?” Chase blinked.

  “That’s what Thomasi called them.”

  She shot the human a quizzical look. “Not wolves?”

  Thomasi hesitated, then his face smoothed, as he seemed to reach a decision. “No. Definitely not wolves. Do you know why I’m certain of that?”

  “Not really.”

  “There’s a few things. The first being that the bodies were searched. Wolves don’t do that. Then there’s the fact that this was within four hours of our campsite and the deaths were recent… I’m no Scout but that blood was relatively fresh, I think. But we didn’t hear any howling last night. I don’t know any wolves that wouldn’t howl at a moon like that.”

  “Well, you’re the Tamer, you’d know,” Chase said.

  “Just a little bit of a Tamer, but my zoology is pretty good.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. All those factors I mentioned, they tell a different story. One that tells me we want to be as far as possible from this place before the moon rises tonight.”

  “The moon?” Chase asked. There was something she wasn’t getting, something at the tip of her mind.

  “Yes. The moon’s almost full, isn’t it?”

  And then it clicked. “Oh my gods!” she shrieked. “Why are we walking? We need to run!”

  “What?” Renny asked, looking from her to Thomasi.

  “Werewolves!” Chase said and picked up the pace… only to slow it again, when Thomasi refused to hurry. “Come on!”

  “Ohh… werewolves,” Renny said.

  “Mmm-hm,” Thomasi grunted. “But there’s no point in running now.”

  “There’s every point in staying far, far away from werewolves!”

  “True. But consider. Our campsite was within a few hours of the site of the massacre last night. The smoke would have been easily visible. So either they got wrapped up in the dungeon, or they’re gone from this place. If they’re in the dungeon, then while we would benefit from hurrying, we’ve still got a scent trail from the massacre site to us. We’re better off hitting the road and blending in with the other travelers, in which case we don’t want to show up exhausted and panicked. If instead they are gone from here, then they can’t be far and we’re better off making as little noise as possible and just strolling normally, to avoid drawing their attention to us.”

  It made a fair amount of sense, when Chase considered it. “What’s your intelligence again? That’s remarkably well thought out.”

  “I’m not telling. Not everything is about numbers,” Thomasi said.

  “That’s the sort of answer you hear when somebody’s actually pretty low,” Chase said. “But you’re right, it is your business. Sorry.” Thomasi had a way about him, that made one feel like a friend, like she’d known him for years. She had to watch herself around him, avoid being too casual. And questions about attributes weren’t something you normally tossed around lightly.

  “No offense taken.” Thomasi tugged at his cowl. “Figure we’ll stop for an early lunch in a bit, then push on to the main road. And hope like hell no werewolves come barking up our back trail.”

  No werewolves did. Though they DID hear barking at one point, but it was from a farmer’s dogs, while they were skirting his property. After a couple of more remote farms they found their way to the road, and gladly fell in, treading over the ancient stones, and passing mile markers that still held carvings in the ancient script. They passed travelers as they went, most in groups, wagons moving with farmers and tradesmen keeping hard eyes on them… eyes that invariably relaxed whenever Thomasi gave a hearty hello and fell in next to them to chat merrily about the weather and their journeys and life in general.

  By this time Renny was firmly in Chase’s pack, and Chase had her headscarf tightly wrapped around her ears. With those concealed she looked like a very young child, and she reinforced the image by keeping her mouth shut, clinging to Thomasi’s legs whenever someone tried to talk to her, and generally acting shy.

  Chase ended up with a double handful of treats and sweets for her troubles, and Thomasi’s explanation of how he was taking his daughter to see the city was accepted without any visible disbelief.

  Their plan, hatched days ago, seemed to be working.

  Thomasi and Chase had expected trouble from the authorities, if said authorities had survived the little incident in Pandora Prison. So they’d left the roads days ago, traveled in the backwoods, even though it took more time. When the terrain got too rough Thomasi had shrunk the wagon and they’d walked. When it was nice and flat, the wagon came out and they rolled.

  But the fact of the matter was that the authorities would probably be looking for the Ringmaster of a circus, a toy fox golem, and a halven girl. Some traveling storyteller and his daughter, on the other hand… well, that was nothing to fuss about.

  And for the first few hours, the plan seemed to be working…

  …up until the point they hit the line. The city’s walls lay in the distance ahead and houses and shops rose to either side along the outskirts, but a solid mile of stopped carts, grumbling pedestrians, and people on shuffling horses sat between Chase and the gates. Her stomach sank. There was no way this wasn’t trouble.

  “What’s all this then?” Thomasi asked the teamster in front of him.

  The stout man turned, and eyed Thomasi over a cartful of turnips. “There’s Scouts and Wizards with the guards at the gate. They’re checking people.”

  “For what?” Thomasi’s face radiated innocent concern.

  “No idea. But it was like this yesterday, too, from what Jocomo says.” The Teamster jerked a thumb at an elderly man currently in the process of moving up and down the line, selling some kind of fresh bread. The smell made Chase’s mouth water. Lunch had been hours ago, after all. And she hadn’t even had brunch, or mid-dinner, let alone dinner yet…

  She tugged on Thomasi’s cloak and muttered, “Hungry, poppa.”

  “Well,” Thomasi said, and turned around to look behind him. There were a few travelers, most of them a convoy from some brewery or the other, with wagons full of casks and kegs. “If it’s going to take this long we might as well get
something to eat. Firenzi, do you mind letting us cut back in if we finish up in time?”

  “Not at all!” said the thin man that Thomasi had spent a half-hour chatting with for the last leg of the trip. “Go, make sure your daughter’s fed! Doesn’t look like she’s too used to missing meals, it’d be a shame to start.”

  That made Chase’s ears burn. Why do some of them comment on my weight? It’s not my fault most humans are too thin. But she restrained herself, as Thomasi patted her shoulder and the two of them left the line and headed out into the muddy paths of the outskirts.

  Once they were in a relatively clear spot, Chase tugged on his cloak again, and whispered “Now what?”

  “Now?” Thomasi said, rubbing his goatee. “Now we improvise.” He pointed to the collection of buildings and streets off to the side. “Have you ever been in the outskirts, the parts of a city that lie outside the walls?”

  “Er, no, I can’t say I have.”

  “Come along then. And keep your mouth shut. This is probably going to be a bit of a culture shock...”

  CHAPTER 3: A HIVE OF SCUM AND VILLAINY

  The wooden sign above the door showed many faded carvings of wheat, in various stages of growth. The name above those carvings read,

  TAVERNA SEME

  “Perfect!” Thomasi declared, as he took one last look around the street, that was made up mostly of dark alley entrances, mud, and a single patch of cobblestones stained brown about ten feet from the Taverna’s door.

  “Um,” Chase said, drawing nearer to him so she could speak without being overheard. That seemed like a difficult task, given the number of eyes she could feel watching the pair from every alley. “I think your definition of perfect and mine are pretty different.”

  No sooner had she finished the statement, then the door of the tavern slammed open, and a man hurtled screaming through the air, landing with a thud on the cobblestones, cracking his nose so hard that blood spurted to join the stains already in evidence.

  The door slammed shut again.

  Chase realized her mouth was open. “That poor man!” she said, regaining her composure. “Lesser— ow!”