by Joseph Lallo
Elisabeth smiled. “Making it so painful he couldn’t breathe through his nose really did kill his ability to project his fire breath.”
“Couldn't have done it without your help,” Cyrus said.
Elisabeth blushed. “Any ranger could have done that.”
“Would you mind,” Cyrus asked her, “helping to divide the spoils between the guilds?”
“An excellent idea,” Malpravus said. “In fact, we should go now and see what sort of hoard this dragon has left behind for us.”
Dividing the dragon’s hoard took less than an hour. The gold and other assorted treasures were split equally. The dragon had gold and baubles, armors and a variety of other items. How did he carry this? Cyrus thought.
Cy had found a small rock and was sitting on it, watching all the goings-on. Terian approached him from behind and clapped him on the back with a low whistle. “You enriched Sanctuary's guild bank by a considerable amount today.”
Cyrus smiled but didn't move or turn his gaze. “Goliath didn't take everything?”
Terian's smile faded, replaced by a dark expression. “No, they didn't, but not for lack of trying. There were a few treasures that became points of contention. Malpravus tried to claim that a solid gold statuette was worth only a few coins.” The dark elf shook his head in annoyance. “Even Tolada couldn't find it in his black little dwarven heart to agree with his Guildmaster on that.”
“I thought we were already wealthy as a guild.”
“No.” Terian snorted. “You've seen the little stipend we pay to our members on a monthly basis, maybe a little extra if we have a windfall month – like this month, thanks to you – but we haven't had a month like that in the last few years.”
Various tradespeople from the Alliance were disassembling the dragon's corpse, taking the usable scales, draining the blood for potion ingredients, and taking the meat for cooking. He saw Brevis squabbling with an elf over a vial of dragon blood and some steaming dragon meat. The dragon was skinless and stripped of all its musculature by this point – which was not a trivial undertaking with a creature so large. Cyrus watched as Brevis and the elf parted ways, the gnome now working on getting a piece of the dragon’s entrails. Shaking his head at the morbidity of picking the corpse clean, Cyrus turned back to the body of the army, talking among themselves in fellowship.
Orion sidled up to him. “That was an impressive victory,” he said, smiling at Cyrus. “You’re a natural leader.”
Cyrus chuckled. “I had a pretty good example to learn from.”
“You mean Angelique?” The ranger's eye glinted and he grinned.
“Yeah,” Cy laughed. “A fine example of what not to do.” His expression turned serious. “You should lead again.”
Orion nodded, but his smile had frozen, stuck in place and clearly fake. He turned his attention back to the crowd, as Elisabeth had stepped onto a rock and was trying to get everyone's attention. When she had silenced the crowd, she began. “Let’s all take a moment to thank Cyrus Davidon from Sanctuary for today's victory.”
Enthusiastic applause greeted her statement, and he was forced to stand up and take a bow as the army turned toward him in acknowledgment. Elisabeth waited until the applause had died down. “I have an announcement to make. The Daring have received word through sources that in two days Mortus, the God of Death, will be leaving his Realm for a week to meet with other gods. We will be sponsoring an invasion to enter Death's Realm, defeat the forces guarding it and escape with whatever spoils we can long before Mortus returns.
“The higher powered guilds do these sort of incursions every chance they get. We will begin in the evening hour, the day after tomorrow.” She looked around, expression tentative. “Can I have a show of hands to see who would be interested in attending?”
Almost every hand was in the air, some waving around like children in class, waiting to be called on. A smile broke across Elisabeth's face. “The meeting point will be the Gates of Death, on Mortus Island in the Bay of Lost Souls. We will assemble at dusk. I look forward to seeing you there.” There was an excited buzz about the crowd as she finished.
Looking back, Cyrus saw the corpse of the dragon was almost entirely picked clean, with nothing left but a pile of bones. He watched with curiosity as Terian directed Vaste and J'anda, and the three of them worked to pull some of the bones off to the side, including the skull, now stripped of flesh and scale. Niamh and Nyad worked their way over to the others, each carrying armfuls of smaller bones.
Mentally shrugging it off, he turned to find Elisabeth had broken through the crowd of well wishers and curious raiders and was only steps away. “Congratulations!” She hugged him. “That was amazing; even Endeavor couldn’t have pulled this off without a fatality.” She smiled as he blushed.
“Glad I could be useful.” He brushed aside her compliment. “Death's Realm? That should be a challenge.”
She nodded. “I’m looking forward to it. The 'big three' guilds run these incursions every chance they get – whether it’s the Realm of Darkness, or Death, even the Trials of Purgatory.” She could not hide her glee. “If we do this right, we’ll be announcing to Arkaria that the Alliance is a force to be reckoned with. We’ll be able to attract more powerful adventurers from other guilds that aren’t happy where they are but don’t want to take a step down. It’s a great growth opportunity for the Alliance.”
Cyrus nodded, but had paid particular attention to a few of her comments. “Do you think we’ll be going to the Realm of Darkness anytime soon? Or Purgatory?”
She looked a little puzzled but answered anyway. “Well, Purgatory is godless; just a number of different mystical creatures spread out as you descend through the five trials. The rewards for completing it are amazing, which is why the big three guilds – Amarath's Raiders, Endeavor and Burnt Offerings – share it among themselves and don't allow anyone else in.”
Cy frowned. “What?”
She nodded. “Those three guilds treat Purgatory like farmers harvesting their fields.” She smiled. “The Trials restart when a new group goes through, and all the enemies you face are reborn from the last time someone went through. The entity that runs it gives new rewards every time the trials are successfully completed.”
Cy shook his head. “But how do the big three guilds keep out others?”
Elisabeth blinked. “The only way to exit the Trials is through portals. And the exit portal after you complete the trials sends you into the middle of the Reikonos guildhall quarter, so everyone knows what you've done. A guild called Retrion's Honor finished the Trials successfully three years ago, and when they exited through the portal, the 'big three' slaughtered them in the streets of Reikonos.”
Cyrus's jaw dropped. “I heard about that! The Reikonos guards didn't even try to stop them.”
Elisabeth shook her head. “The Reikonos guards couldn't beat any one of them alone: together they're far too powerful. The Council of Twelve was furious, threatened to expel them all from the city, until the three guild leaders came to the Citadel and made 'restitution' with ten million gold pieces. Since then, no one's had the courage to try Purgatory.”
She took a breath. “You asked about the Realm of Darkness? I’d love to go there, but we don’t have any way of knowing whether Yartraak will be there or not, and the God of Darkness is really powerful; not someone we’d like to tangle with.”
Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’d like to face any of the gods any more than I'd like the three most powerful guilds in Arkaria attacking me.”
Elisabeth laughed. “You'd stand a better chance against the three guilds. They don't even challenge a plane when the god is actually there; gods can smash mortals into such a pulp that a resurrection spell has no effect. Taking on a god is suicide.”
Cy nodded. “So you’ve heard the tales of the mortals that faced the gods?”
A little sadness glimmering in her eyes, Elisabeth nodded in answer. “I
think everyone has. The legend of Requiem, the guild from ten thousand years ago, is the most familiar cautionary tale about tempting the wrath of the gods.” She smiled. “You should probably rejoin your guild; it looks like everyone is about to leave.”
After exchanging goodbyes, Cyrus walked back to the Sanctuary group, trying to find Niamh. Instead he found Andren. “I found out a little bit more about the Realms. Elisabeth doesn’t think we’ll be able to go to Purgatory or the Realm of Darkness anytime soon. But if I can find what I need from Death, I’ll be making progress.”
Andren grunted. “This sword of yours had better be worth it, for all the trouble it'll take to get it.”
Cyrus brushed him off. “Where’s Niamh? I need to get teleported out of here.”
“Niamh left a few minutes ago with J'anda, Vaste, Terian, and a hell of a lot of that dragon’s skeleton. I think you’re gonna need to find alternate transport.”
Cy looked at Andren. “Can I come with you when you cast your return spell?”
The elf raised an eyebrow. Every spell caster could use the 'return' spell to take them back to a point that they had chosen to attach themselves to. It was a personal teleportation spell; not nearly as wide reaching as a druid or wizard's spells. Catching a ride with a spell caster that used the return spell meant getting intimately close with them. “No. If you were a pretty woman, it might be a different story,” Andren said, fidgeting. “Or a woman at all. No. Find another way.” Before Cyrus could argue, Andren murmured an incantation and vanished in a twinkle of light.
“You bastard,” Cyrus said, watching other spell casters teleported back to their respective guildhalls. He caught a glimpse of Nyad disappearing in the burst of magic accompanying her teleportation spell. With her went a group of fighters bound for Sanctuary.
Getting frantic at the thought of being left behind, Cyrus scrambled to find a druid. He saw Brevis, with Gertan and Aina – two of the gnome's allies – and hurried over to them. “Aina, will you teleport me to the druid portal near Sanctuary?” he asked the elf.
Aina was a stately woman, tanned in a way that suggested she spent more time outdoors than inside. She wore a shawl that covered her auburn hair, and a cuirass that didn’t quite cover all her abdomen, revealing a flat and muscular stomach. She rarely showed emotion, making it difficult for Cy to get a sense of her.
Before she had a chance to answer, Brevis leapt in and answered for her. “Of course she’d be glad to teleport you! The hero of the day, the first person to lead a decent adventure in six months? We’d be honored to have you accompany us back to Sanctuary!” Something in the way he said it, the self-serving sneer in his voice, triggered a warning in Cyrus’s head. Aina nodded, affirming Brevis’s answer and allowing Cy to relax about finding his way home. Within moments, the winds were gusting around him; with a blast of air, they left the Mountains of Nartanis behind them.
Chapter 18
As the winds of the teleport faded, Aina was already casting another spell. The power of the Falcon's Essence moved through Cyrus and his feet lifted from the ground once more, floating delicately over the grasses of the Plains of Perdamun. Brevis smiled at him, a snaggle-toothed smile that had no warmth. “Why don’t we run with you to keep you company?”
Cyrus hesitated. “That’s kind of you, but it’s only five minutes back to Sanctuary and you can all cast return and save yourselves some time.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “We would consider it a great pleasure to keep you company. I’ve been meaning to talk with you, anyway, so this is a perfect chance.” Cy kept silent, knowing that whatever kindness the gnome had offered had been with this in mind; the chance to bend the warrior’s ear.
“Oh, really?” Cyrus nodded, trying to pay as little attention possible to the scheming gnome running alongside him. Aina and Gertan followed a few steps back.
“Indeed, indeed,” he continued. “It has not escaped our notice that you are involved in helping this guild.” Cy raised an eyebrow. “I believe,” heavy emphasis was placed on the I, “that we have lagged far behind Goliath because we lack in a critical area.”
“What’s that?” Cy said, keeping his voice neutral.
“Why, leadership, of course!” the gnome said, as though it were obvious. “We have experienced adventurers, have grown considerably in recent months in capabilities, equipment and experience, but we don’t have expeditions! Our General is scared to attack so much as a bandit camp!”
“In fairness to Orion, I have heard that bandits in the Plains are much stronger now than they used to be.”
Brevis waved away Cyrus’s statement. “Even that abominable assault on the Heia Pass was at least doing something! It added riches to the guild bank. We have a General, and the Council sees fit to have him do nothing. He's gone more of the time than he's here!” Brevis concluded with a flourish. “And his wife is worse still. Mark my words. I'm certain she had nothing else going on today but failed to show up nonetheless. Support the guild? Ha!” His laugh sounded like a bark. “She’s a selfish one.” His face turned serious. “Someone needs to say something.”
Cyrus could see Sanctuary as they crested a hill. “Orion is scared. He led an excursion that ended in disaster and someone lost their life, which he didn’t anticipate. He blames himself, and he won’t let it go.” Cyrus blew the air through his lips noiselessly. “That’s not something you get over immediately.” He took a breath. “I think, based on my experience today, I’m going to start leading expeditions. Maybe if I do it, and Orion sees how well it’s going, he'll get his confidence back.”
Brevis missed the point entirely. “See?” He gestured to Gertan and Aina. “This is exactly what I’m talking about! This is the sort of leadership we need: someone who’s willing to get things done. We need to be rid of Orion – you should take his place as Sanctuary's General, command our army.”
Cyrus felt his brow furrow. “I will not support removing Orion as General. I’m happy to help the guild, but I’m not going to depose the man.”
“You’re missing the point,” Brevis sai. “When you’ve got someone who has such an attitude of entitlement you have to cut that out of your guild!” The little gnome made an almost absurd chopping gesture that looked as though it would be ineffective on anything, a ridiculous counterpoint to what he was proposing.
Cyrus studied Brevis with barely disguised annoyance. “Don’t you think Alaric knows what he’s doing by keeping Orion in place?”
“No! And don’t get me started on what I think should be done with Alaric. He’s never once led a battle that I've seen; rarely does anything. I’ve never seen a Guildmaster gone as much as he is. Almost as if he vanishes into thin air…” Brevis’s words trailed off as they approached the gates of Sanctuary. “Give everything I’ve said some thought, I’m sure you’ll come to the same conclusions I have.”
“I’m sure I won’t.” Cyrus didn’t even try to lie, but Brevis seemed not to notice.
“Of course, we’ll talk again in a day or two.” He scrambled off as though late for an appointment, Gertan and Aina trailing behind, but not before she had dispelled the Falcon's Essence, returning him to the ground.
Shaking his head at the absurdity of the gnome plotting a coup, Cyrus breezed through the doors to Sanctuary. He watched Brevis walk up to a group in the foyer, greeted with great fanfare. Cyrus knew that Brevis had some influence in Sanctuary, though it was hard to imagine the odd, antisocial gnome having much support.
From the staircase on the other side of the foyer, Selene entered with an entourage of her own, Celia and Uruk behind her. Cyrus saw it only a moment before it occurred; Brevis and his group casting mutinous looks at Selene, and her completely oblivious expression as she crossed close to them, not noticing the gnome or his circle until he stepped into her path, halting her advance.
“So, I noticed you weren’t with us when we fought the dragon,” Brevis said.
“No, Brevis, I wasn’t. So
nice of you to notice.”
“I’m sorry you weren’t feeling well,” he said, voice dripping with insincerity that was lost on Selene.
“What do you mean?” She looked confused. “I feel fine.”
“Oh, then you must have been gone when they called for help.”
“No.” She still had a befuddled look. “Celia, Uruk and I were talking and planning a trip to the Emerald Coast with Orion. They have a little village on the edge of the ocean; it’s supposed to be quite marvelous.” Cyrus desperately wanted to intervene, to tell her to shut up, but he could not find words that wouldn’t cause a scene.
“Oh, I see.” Brevis seemed to relent for a moment. “It must be an important trip.”
“Yes; we’re planning to go there to relax, just the two of us couples.”
A glint of victory shone in the enchanter’s eye. “So, planning a vacation is more important to you than helping guildmates who are going into danger – what kind of person are you?!” The last part of his statement was blurted: it came out as a sort of crazed scream, an indignant accusation that caught the attention of everyone in the foyer.
Selene’s jaw dropped, skin flushed in horror at his bluntness. “I-I don’t see how it’s any of your business what I –”
Brevis didn’t wait for her to finish. “You’re a member of this guild who doesn’t seem to want to help anybody in this guild.”
Selene was staggered. “That’s not true!”
Undeterred, Brevis went on. “Why did you miss the event today? Don’t you care when your guildmates face mortal danger?”
Selene had fallen into the trap. “Of course I care, but –”
“Actions speak louder than words.” The self-satisfied smile on Brevis’s face indicated he thought he had made a profound point. There were enough nods around the foyer that Cyrus knew others felt the same.
