Wrack and Ruin

by Dave Willmarth

  “We are grateful for your willingness to help grow and defend our city.” The dark elf bowed his head. “And thank you for reassuring us as to your intentions. Having such defensive measures available will indeed help us to encourage new settlers.”

  “And raise the real estate values!” One of the gnomes grinned at Max.

  “Ha! Let us hope so.” Max looked at all three merchants, one at a time. “Was there anything else you wished to discuss? With myself, or with Enoch, while we’re all here?”

  “No, Majesty, I do not believe there is.”

  “Then I have just one more thing for you before you go.” Max spoke as they began to rise from their chairs. All three sat back down, looking curious. “I have struck a bargain with the Mages’ Guild. In return for a property in which to establish a branch location here and in Deepcrag, they will be providing and maintaining lights for my public areas. That means the areas around your Deepcrag locations will be lit free of charge for you. Since they will have their people here already, you might reach out to them and make a deal for them to install and maintain lights in the balance of Dara Sean at a deep discount.” He waited for their response, which was mixed. To sweeten the pot, and promote goodwill, he added, “You may even tell them that I have approved the use of my portal by their people free of charge as part of your bargain. I would rather not have the smoke from torches filling the air in this cavern if we can avoid it. They can offer the mages stationed here the ability to travel home and visit family or see to business interests without paying portal fees, at least on our end.”

  The second gnome nodded. “An incentive for decent mages to accept the posting. It’s a job most of their kind consider beneath them. But if we offer sufficient wages, and they can travel freely back and forth…”

  “The information and the offer are both greatly appreciated, Majesty.” The first gnome finished for his partner.

  Spellbinder, always thinking ahead, thumped the table, surprising the merchants. “As a representative o’ King Ironhand, a friend and ally o’ King Max here, I’ll be makin’ sure yer front gates are no’ so easy to break down. We’ll put on some strengthening and magic resistance spells that’ll keep most monster hordes at bay.” He looked at the dark elf. “Assuming ye don’t object.”

  “No, of course not, Master Spellslinger. Thank you.”

  With the merchants mollified and on their way out of the sector, Enoch led Max’s group, minus Spellslinger, who went back to work, on a tour of the rest of the Stormhaven sector of the city. It turned out to be a more significant area than it had looked like on the map. There were scores of buildings along multiple streets, and Max thought it might be larger than Stormhaven City itself. He was going to need to focus even more on recruiting.

  The tour completed, and Enoch properly congratulated for his efforts, Max returned to Stormhaven, where he picked up Redmane, and the two of them stepped through the portal to Darkholm to seek an audience with Ironhand.

  *****

  Lagrass left his hole, having spent another uncomfortable night in the foul-smelling mud. Crawling out, the daylight streaming in from outside showed him something that very nearly made him vomit. The mud he’d been laying in… wasn’t mud. It was accumulated bear feces and urine, mixed with shed hair, twigs, and dirt.

  He desperately searched his map for the nearest creek or stream that he had crossed, and located one about a quarter mile back the way he’d come. Jogging through the forest, he gagged and choked, wanting to strip down right there and abandon his clothes, but he didn’t dare. Besides risking being caught in the open, he didn’t want to leave evidence of his location laying around. Also, ditching the clothes wouldn’t get him clean. He felt a desperate need to scrub himself until his skin peeled off.

  Finding the creek, he plunged right in, submerging himself in the cool water. He rubbed his hands together until they were reasonably clean of the filth, then began with his face and hair. He eventually stripped his soiled clothes off and used the sand near the bank to scrub them clean. One of the things he’d asked the shopkeeper for was soap, and he used most of the bar trying to scrub away the bear juice from himself, his clothes, and his boots over the next hour. No matter how hard he worked at it, how often he nearly drowned himself dunking his head in the water, he couldn’t seem to get the stench from his nose.

  Finally leaving the water, he stowed the wet clothes in his inventory, and removed a replacement set from his pack. Nervous that the villagers or the rangers were still hunting him, he tried to formulate a plan.

  He’d fled roughly north from the village. Which meant he couldn’t head south back toward that danger. His pursuers had followed him in a northerly direction this far, and he assumed had continued in that direction. And he’d told the shopkeeper that he planned to head west, so it definitely wasn’t safe to go that way. This left him only one option. Quickly checking his map, he turned eastward and began to walk.

  The forest remained unchanged for most of the day, and Lagrass had no real way to measure how far he’d gone. Thanks to his interface map, he could maintain a roughly eastward trajectory, and he hoped to eventually encounter another village. Or at least a road that might take him somewhere. His plan to take over a starter village was still foremost in his mind, behind not getting caught by anyone hunting him. Maybe if he walked far enough, long enough, he could find a place that was outside this kingdom, where he could start from scratch.

  As the sun began to set, dark came more quickly than Lagrass thought it should. The reason for that quickly became apparent as lightning flickered in the sky. A moment later, the sound of thunder rolled across the forest canopy. Though it was early, he began to search for a protected spot to make camp. He now had a real tent, but would prefer a cave or similar hiding spot that wouldn’t be so visible to hunters who might happen by.

  The rain burst forth in a deluge, the sounds of millions of drops hitting leaves roaring around him. The trees swayed in the sudden winds, opening holes in the canopy for the heavy raindrops to soak him to the bone.

  “I hate this world. I’m constantly wet.” He complained to himself as he trudged along. It was difficult to see more than thirty feet or so in any direction, between the rain and the deepening darkness. The creaking of tree limbs and shifting shadows from the lightning flashes had him practically jumping out of his skin. He felt like a prey animal surrounded by predators he couldn’t see.

  Eventually he spotted a rock overhang at the base of a hill. It wasn’t a cave, but it was mostly protected from the weather. He stepped in under it and immediately began gathering kindling and firewood. Ten minutes later he had a small fire burning, and had removed his wet clothes. After setting up his tent, he used several sticks to create small frames, across which hung both sets of wet clothes so that they could dry. He produced a few pieces of jerky and his bottle of licorice spirits, and saw to his next most immediate need; hunger.

  Sitting with his back to the stone wall as he ate, he pulled the shopkeeper’s cash box from his inventory. Before now, he’d been too tired and stressed to take time to go through his loot. The box contained eighteen gold, thirty silver, and fifty copper coins, as well as a single platinum coin. “I’m rich!” he whisper-shouted to himself, adding all the cash to his inventory. There was also a small stack of folded papers in the bottom of the box. Opening them he found that they were all IOUs from villagers to the shopkeeper. One of them was from Bart, for six silver and change. “What a schmuck.” Lagrass mumbled. “Giving credit to people who’ll never be able to pay it back.” He tossed the notes into the fire, then checked the box for any other contents before sliding it back into his inventory.

  His loot from the dead woman in the shop was six silver coins, a silver inlaid hairbrush, which she’d been holding in her hand when he killed her, and a silver hairpin with a small ruby stone shaped like a teardrop. “Should be able to sell these for a good bit.” He mumbled, putting it away.

  When he went back and ch
ecked his notifications, he received a shock. There was the small bit of experience gained from killing the woman in the shop, who was only level five. But there was another kill listed, with even less experience awarded. The name of the person didn’t register at first, and Lagrass did his best to think back. Did he attack someone without realizing it? He shook it off, and finished his meal before adding a few more sticks to the fire and crawling into his tent. He was just drifting off to sleep when his brain made the connection and he recognized the name. It was the boy who had discovered the blood trail. The stable boy. From the stable he’d burned down.

  Lagrass felt a bit of guilt. Had the boy been asleep in one of the stalls and Lagrass just hadn’t seen him? Or had he run inside after the fire started and choked on the smoke? There had been a few horses in the stable, but they’d obviously escaped, because he got no kill notifications for them.

  He decided it couldn’t have been his fault, that the boy must have chosen to run into the burning barn, absolving Lagrass of any responsibility. “It was his own fault.” He mumbled to himself as he lay down on his blanket. “What fool runs into a burning building? It was his own fault.” Lagrass repeated that to himself over and over until he fell asleep.

  Chapter 26

  Max and Redmane walked into the meeting room behind Max’s favorite valet. The dwarf was seriously helpful, and Max was considering trying to steal him away from Ironhand. The dwarf king was waiting for them, calling out happily to them as they entered.

  “Max! Redmane, you old battleboar, good to see ye!” He smiled and indicated for them to sit. Max noted that a chimera-sized chair had been placed for him, angled away from the table so he had plenty of leg room.

  “Thank you, highness.” Max didn’t bow his head, as he’d been coached not to do so. Still he respected this king and wanted to show it.

  “Ye requested a private meeting, and that in itself be unusual enough ta make me curious. Be there a problem? A new foe ye need help with?”

  Max grinned. “Always problems, and we beat the last new foe easily. Still have the same old foe in the orcs, but that’s not why we’re here. I actually have a secret I want to tell you, and something I want to sell you.”

  “Oh ho! A negotiation! Well, let’s save that bit fer last, so ye can tell me whatever ye have to say without cryin’ over the deal we make!”

  “Heh. Alright, I know your time is valuable, so I’ll skip right to the point. Underneath the land I’ve claimed in the abandoned gnome settlement now known as Dara Seans, there is an old Runemaster’s outpost. With a working portal from the surface, and half a dozen working giant golem sentries.” He watched Ironhand’s mouth drop open, his face turn red, and decided to mess with him. “I’ll show it to you, but I want a hundred thousand gold first.”

  “What??” the king roared, getting to his feet! “Max! That be… no! I’ll give ye fifty thousand, and no more! And yer a damned thief fer askin it! I thought ye were me friend, Max…” He trailed off as he noticed the grins on Redmane’s and Max’s faces. “Bah! Ye be messin with me!”

  “Only about the gold. Of course I wouldn’t charge you to see it. But the rest is true.” Max watched as a very suspicious Ironhand, raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Redmane.

  The chamberlain nodded. “On me own honor, it all be true.”

  The dwarf king sat down, letting out a long slow exhale as he gathered his thoughts. “Ye be a nasty trickster, damned oversized, sharp-toothed half-beastie! Nearly drove me to a conniption!” He shook his head, a slight smile escaping his control. “Well played. Now, tell me from the beginning.”

  Max and Redmane together told him the story. Max shared the two relevant quests with Ironhand, effectively recruiting him into helping protect and study the outpost.

  “Ye’ll have whatever ye need, down to me last gold coin, if necessary. Max, this be our history, our pride, and our greatest shame. If we can regain the rune magic…” Ironhand drifted off, imagining the possibilities. “Thank ye for sharing this with me.” The experienced and savvy king had instantly grasped the ramifications of Max sharing the knowledge.

  Congratulations! Reputation increase!

  Your reputation with the entire dwarven race is now: Respected!

  Your reputation with the dwarves of Darkholm is now: Revered!

  “Thank you, Ironhand.” Max tried using the king’s name, but it felt awkward. “I would appreciate you keeping this to yourself, at least for a while. You’re welcome to visit, of course. But the fewer people who know about this, the better.”

  “Ye have me solemn oath.” Ironhand put hand to heart, and golden light surrounded them both as a sound like tiny bells tinkling could be heard. An oath between kings was no small thing in the gods’ eyes. “What can I do to help?”

  “Well, to start with, building up and securing that sector of the city is expensive. So I figured you could give me a small mountain of gold!” Max winked at Redmane, who was watching Ironhand with some amusement.

  “Done!” Ironhand didn’t hesitate.

  “Wait, wait. I was kidding again, I don’t want a hand-out. Look, the other reason I came here was actually to sell you something. Something of value, worth the gold I need to complete construction around the outpost. Accept my invitation.” Max sent Ironhand a party invite, which the king accepted. Max was getting a little tired of going through this process, but it was important.

  “Can you hear me?” He sent through Party Chat.

  “O’ course I can hear ye!” Ironhand shouted out loud. “Yer right here in-”

  Ironhand’s mouth clicked shut when he heard Redmane answer without moving his lips. “Loud and clear, sire.”

  Max continued, his own lips not moving either. “This is a new spell I sort of accidently created. It allows up to twenty party members to hear each other, to speak without speaking aloud. It works for a distance of up to two miles. Go ahead, try it. Just think about answering me, but don’t speak aloud.”

  “Can ye hear me?” Ironhand’s voice was tentative. When both his guests smiled, he shouted, “Ye can hear me!” causing both of them to wince and grab their heads. Out loud, he said “Sorry.”

  “This is what I’ve come here to sell you. I am currently the only master of this ability, and can teach it to you and a few of your leaders, for a price. I’ve already sold it to the Archmagus of the Mages’ Guild, but it will take him some time to level up the ability to the point where he can teach it to others.” Max spoke aloud.

  Ironhand thumped a fist on the table. “Ye sell’d it to them wand-wavers first?!” He glowered at Max, who took it in stride. He could already tell Ironhand was just trying to get back at him.

  “No offense, but you dwarves are a bunch of shield-bashing, hammer-swinging brutes without much talent for magic. Though I hope to rectify that with the rune magic soon. In any case, it would take one of you years to level the ability up to where you could teach it!”

  Ironhand eyed him askance for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Aye, that be true enough. Mages be rare among our people. I’m glad ye came to me with this when ye did, Max. It’ll take a year or more before this spreads across the continent. Even longer for others to learn to use it effectively. By then we’ll have all our elders and commanders used to it. What did ye charge the damned elf for it?”

  “Much more than I’ll charge you, my friend.” Max smiled, getting one in return from the king. “They’ll use it to make a pile of money, so I charged them sixty thousand gold and some favors.”

  Ironhand whistled. “That be a significant amount, Max. Ye be improvin’ yer negotiation skills.”

  “Let’s test that theory.” Max leaned toward the dwarf. “I’ll teach you the spell, along with… let’s say twenty of your commanders or elders or whomever you select. In return you’ll pay me one thousand gold per head, to help me offset the costs of protecting the outpost.”

  Ironhand gave him a considering look. “Each one o’ them can speak to twenty others?”<
br />
  “Yes. Here’s how you do it. Let’s say the greys attack again. You create a party with twenty of your commanders’ seconds, who don’t need to know the spell if they’re in your party. The commanders themselves each create a party with twenty of their captains, sergeants, or quartermasters, or whomever they need to speak to. They get real-time reports from their twenty, and they relay the vital bits to their seconds, who relay it to you instantly. And not only can you hear it, but all the seconds can hear each other, so they can coordinate among themselves without your input. So you get nearly instantaneous information from nearly four hundred sources across the entire battlefront, and the ability to immediately relay detailed orders, which will help you to better wage your war.”

  “Damn.” Ironhand reviewed the math in his head for a moment, stunned by the possibilities. But he quickly recovered. “Five hundred per head!”

  Redmane snorted, and winked at Max, who quickly agreed. “Ten thousand gold it is!”

  “Bah, that’s what ye came here wantin’ ta get, ain’t it? Yer no fun, Max!” the king reached out a hand, and Max shook it.

  “I can always use more, of course. But friends don’t take advantage of each other.” Besides, I need to save my energy to talk you out of immediately sending hundreds of dwarves to Dara Seans to help with the outpost.”

  *****

  Max stopped at his favorite market square after leaving Ironhand a few hours later. The king had worked hard at pushing Max to accept a multi-clan dwarven migration into his sector of the city. In the end they’d agreed on three more mages to help with construction, a few dozen crafters, a hundred extra guards, and their families if they wanted to bring them along. None of them would be given even a hint of the outpost’s existence. Any who wanted to become citizens of Stormhaven could do so with no hard feelings. At one point, just to throw off Ironhand during one of his more excitable moments, Max actually did try to steal the old valet.