by Aleron Kong
Beyan looked at Richter like he was an ignoramus and Richter’s fingers involuntarily curled into a fist. Reading the vibe, Beyan fixed his face and said, “A siphon is a creature that can adopt the body parts of other creatures. They can become the most dangerous monsters in a given area. Most other creatures kill them on sight because of this.”
“What do you mean ‘adopt’?” Richter asked.
After they have slain something else, they have the ability to incorporate the physical body parts of whatever they kill into their own body. For instance, it could add the stinger from a scorpion, or the claws of a hunting cat, or the nose of a bloodhound.”
“If these things are as dangerous as all that, why isn’t The Land overrun with them? What could possibly stand against them?” Richter asked.
“As far as I know, they are only found in void planes. They must be summoned to The Land. That’s why it is so rare to find the bones of one! My grandfather would have spent almost anything to find something like that. It could make an extremely powerful guardian for any caster.”
Richter nodded. He could see why Beyan was excited. It did raise the question, though, “Why didn’t you tell me about this when you found the bones? And why did you just look so hesitant to tell me about the siphon?”
Beyan ran his hand over his bald pate before answering, “I did not share that I found the bones at the time because I didn’t want that shrew of a Life mage to object. I was hesitant to tell you…” Beyan paused again. “The truth is that I have never used the spell to animate the bones before. It is from one of the spell books that I never learned. In the last fight, though, I reached skill level ten in Death magic. I only need another three levels before I can learn the spell. I am sure that I can master it, though!”
Richter frowned, “Is there a possibility that you might not master it?”
Beyan nodded, albeit reluctantly, “There is always a possibility that the magic you try to use might be more powerful than your will. It is one of the main reasons that there are magical colleges. Not just for the spread of knowledge, but also to increase the mental strength of casters.” Beyan’s face firmed, “I know that I am strong enough to control the spell and what it summons, my lord. I am still at an affinity of 97%. I will be a master Death mage!”
Richter looked down at the fierce gnome, “What is the spell?”
“Create Skeletal Familiar. It only creates a level five familiar, but whatever bones you use can retain abilities from life. That is why I wanted the skin from the rock giant. If the siphon keeps its ability to incorporate the dead, the giant’s skin could make it truly formidable!”
Richter thought about it some more, “I have two conditions. One, when you cast this spell, you will do it with me and several others present. If this familiar starts acting savage, I want enough of us around to break it into bits.”
Beyan looked pained by the possible outcome, but he nodded. Richter continued, “I need you to give me your books. Just for a short time. I want to see if the scribes can copy them. If they can’t, then I’ll return them. If you have a level one spell that I can learn to start training in Death magic, I would like to buy it from you.”
Beyan’s face had grown pensive as soon as Richter mentioned the books. Richter had anticipated that, though, “I know those books are precious to you. I have not forgotten what you have gone through to protect them for decades, but you need to remember something. You are not that same scared refugee anymore. You are a man standing on your own feet and a mage exploring your magic. I will do what I can to protect you while you do so, including helping you to create a powerful guardian, but you need to invest in me and this village.” Richter fixed him with a steady gaze, “Either you’re really in, or you’re not.”
Beyan stood quietly for several minutes, lost in thought. Richter did not rush him. From what Beyan had said before, the chaos seed understood that the books were not only valuable, they were also the gnome’s only tie to his past and his murdered family. Richter hadn’t wanted to push this issue, but every villager would be called on to make sacrifices for the future. Beyan had a treasure trove of spells, and he couldn’t just risk those spell books being lost to time. It was way too hard, and definitely too expensive, to find new spells in The Land. Everyone else continued speaking nearby.
Finally, the Death mage said, “Do you promise me that you will not risk the books or do anything irrevocable before you speak with me?” Richter nodded, and Beyan asked further, “And I will get all of the books back when you are done?” Richter nodded again. After a few more seconds, Beyan stuck out his hand. The two men clasped wrists. “I will trust you, my lord. Please do not let anyone else see these.”
Richter looked at him, confused, “You have the books with you?”
Beyan smiled and reached down to his belt. He took an overlarge pouch off of his waist. Un-cinching the drawstring, he opened the top of the brown leather wallet. It opened... and opened... and opened! What Richter was seeing didn’t seem possible, but the top of the coin purse-sized pouch stretched until the opening was the size of a dinner plate. Suddenly, Richter knew what he was looking at: Beyan had a Pouch of Holding!
Beyan saw Richter’s surprise and said, “After my family had to run the first time, we understood the importance of protecting our valuables. As I said, the alchemy shop we ran became prosperous. We spent a small fortune on this pouch, but it was worth every copper. When I told you that I was able to grab a bag with all of our belongings,” he hefted the pouch, “now you know what I meant.”
The gnome turned his body so the others wouldn’t see and started taking items out of the pouch. When the first book was removed, Richter took it and started to read the cover, but after some vigorous head shaking by Beyan, he just put the book into his own Bag of Holding. Book after book came out of the small pouch and went directly into Richter’s Bag. Moving like that, they were able to transfer twelve books in no time. Beyan cinched his pouch closed again and retied it to his waist. He looked at Richter again and said, “I am trusting you, Lord Richter. To show you that I am ‘in,’ as you said, I gift to you the level one spell book in the collection you just received to do with as you will.”
Richter smiled and thanked the gnome, “Let’s go back to everyone else and tell Krom to leave some of that skin for you.” Magic belt or not, after a long day, the chaos seed was looking forward to some sleep.
CHAPTER 13 -- Day 112 -- Kuborn 2, 15368 EBG
“Lord Richter,” came the deadpan but very loud call about a foot in front of his sleeping face.
“What? What’s happening?” Richter shot to his feet, his head barely missing the remnant that sped to the side. He grabbed his elementum short sword from the hook it hung on by his bed and unsheathed it, looking around his room for the danger. The guard stationed outside of his door also rushed in, sword drawn.
Not seeing anything, Richter listened intently to check if the sounds of screams or battle could be heard. Not hearing anything besides his own wildly beating heart, he looked at the confused guard and then at the remnant, “What’s happening, Futen? Are we being attacked?”
“No, my lord,” came the monotone reply. Nothing else was forthcoming.
Not wasting time glaring at the orb, mainly because it never seemed to work, Richter said, as calmly as he could, “Then why did you wake me up? Wait, scratch that question. Why the hell did you wake me up so loudly?”
“You told me that you wished for me to take the initiative and inform you of any relevant information. I was just notified of a village-spawned quest. I assumed you would want to know, my lord.”
Richter’s heart started beating faster again, “I’m sorry, Futen. You did the right thing. What’s happening?” For the village to give him a quest, it must be something vital. The last two had involved him unlocking two of the Basic Elements that comprised his Place of Power.
The light at the center of the grey orb flared, and a prompt appeared in Richter’s vision.
Once again, there didn’t seem to be a real choice. Richter selected ‘Yes’ and then looked at Futen. “Where are these ‘Notable Locations’? Are these ruins?”
“I do not know, my lord.” The grey sphere just hovered there, the light in his center throbbing slowly.
Richter glared at the remnant before he could stop himself, “You don’t know? You woke me up to tell me about a quest that deals with three places somewhere within the roughly three hundred square miles that comprise the boundaries of the village lands, and you don’t know where I’m supposed to go?” Richter’s voice rose in consternation. The guard showed prudence in backing out of the room and leaving his lord to yell at the weirdly glowing ball. Richter didn’t even notice as he continued his tirade, “You said you were told about this quest!”
“I said I was notified,” Futen answered, not in the least bit perturbed by his master’s ire.
“What’s the difference between being ‘told’ and ‘notified’?” Richter railed, waving his green blade above his head. Alma had been trying to go back to sleep, but now she hissed loudly. It wasn’t clear, even to her, if she was pissed at Richter or Futen.
The remnant was quiet for a moment, “I suppose there is not a meaningful difference, my lord.”
Richter could literally feel the vein on his forehead throbbing. “You’re fucking with me aren’t you? Just tell me the truth, once and for all, are you doing this on purpose?”
Futen was quiet for several seconds and then succinctly said, “No.”
There was silence.
“No? No what?” Richter shouted. “No, you aren’t fucking with me or no you’re not doing it on purpose?”
Futen was quiet for almost half a minute before succinctly saying, “Yes.”
“Motherfucker!”
The guard on the other side of the door then heard a litany of profanity that he would not have thought possible even moments before. Though the thick door muffled much sound, he was fairly certain his lord was swearing in multiple languages as apparently common-speak alone was not sufficient for the task. The man stood still and simply accepted the experience as a learning opportunity. Several days later, he used his memories of that night to swear at another guard in orcish.
Richter calmed down after several minutes. He even checked his stamina, expecting to find it greatly diminished after his verbal exertions, but the green bar remained full. Taking a series of deep calming breaths, he asked, “Who told you about the quest, Futen?”
“I was notified by the Powers of the village, my lord.”
Richter’s anger and irritation subsided somewhat in the face of this unexpected pronouncement, “The Powers spoke to you?”
“Not in the way that you mean, Lord Richter. The Powers are no more alive than the Sun or Time itself, which is to say they are completely alive in a way that makes them unable to converse with you or share their thoughts, which would most likely be beyond your comprehension.”
Richter blinked. He wasn’t sure if he had just been insulted or been given a glimpse of some cosmic truth. He decided probably both, but after his abrupt awakening and the emotional drain of yelling at Futen for a solid five minutes, he was in no mood for existential questions in either case, “So you were notified by the Powers, but they didn’t speak to you?”
“No, my lord. I suddenly had the knowledge that there was a danger. I know that this knowledge came from my connection with the Powers. I cannot explain further.”
Richter nodded absently, lost in thought. He hadn’t really considered the Powers as being alive, but he supposed it was entirely possible that ancient, immortal influences might have a consciousness in some fashion. Apparently, he wouldn’t be having a chat with his Life ley line, but it was comforting to know that he might get some advance warning in case of attack.
Richter checked his clock. It was four-twelve in the morning. He hadn’t been sleeping for more than three hours, yet surprisingly, he felt completely refreshed. The lord of the Mist Village gave a long-suffering sigh and cinched up his Sustenance Belt. The extra strength he had received from his previous belt had been nice, but for a leader, what he was wearing now was the definite right choice.
He also changed his mana regeneration. Before going to sleep earlier, he had allocated 100% of his regen to unlocking level two of his sonic damage enchantment. His blue mana bar was still full, but he was happy to see that more than fifty-eight hundred mana points had been earned while he slept.
With that done, Richter pulled up his Traveler’s Map, overlaying it across his vision. The three-dimensional picture always made him marvel. It was a study of colors, everything from black-and-white, to greyscale, to rich red and brilliant blues. Everywhere he had personally been was depicted in color, as were the locations Sion had been now that the sprite was wearing the Mapping Ring. Those places either of them had been most recently had the most vivid hues.
The map also showed what had been seen by the Traveler that had made it, but those sections were depicted in greyscale. Experience had shown him that if he traveled over those lands, they would become colored and adjust to reflect the latest information. Rivers would alter course slightly on the map and trees would grow in height. Any areas that had not been explored at all were an impenetrable black.
Much of Richter’s lands were still either greyscale or black. On the grey areas, he could see several different areas that could qualify as ruins. Two of the largest were to the south, and one was in the mountains to the north. What he needed was someone to scout those ruins. Someone he could trust to do the job right. A person who could move quickly and with stealth… There really was only one man for the job. A broad smile crossed his face.
*Are you ready to do some hunting, my love? Just you and me?*
Alma stood on all fours and stretched languorously with her tail extended, *It has been too long, master. It has been entirely too long.*
Richter quickly donned his armor and cloak. The guards on duty each asked if they should follow him, but he left them at their posts. He had a few stops to make before he could leave the village. Once he was out of the catacombs, with Alma on his shoulders, he sent out a mental call to the adder. The snake was nearby and was soon sliding along beside him.
The first thing he did was to go to the Forge of Heavens. He placed a bundle of High Steel Heavy Arrows into his bag and went over to the green chest. At his willed command, the lid rose, and Richter looked inside. A smile crossed his face when he saw that Krom was as good as his word. His new sword lay within. Krom had affixed a thin crossbar hilt to the clear blade. It offered protection for Richter’s hands, but also did not weigh the blade down. The smith had apparently also decided to use another small amount of elementum to create a ball at the end of the pommel. Slamming the weighted end of the sword into someone’s face would cause major damage. It also balanced the weapon nicely. Richter was pleased. As he held the blade, he felt the slightest amount of vibration. It was time to put the weapon to good use.
The giant’s heart and crown pieces were also in the large chest. The skin sat over to the side, drying near the banked furnace. One other item was in the chest.
You have found: Moonstone Dagger of +3 Damage. Damage 17-23. Durability 114/114. Item Class: Uncommon. Quality: Superb. Weight: 0.9 kg.
Richter picked the dagger up, appreciating the beautiful simplicity of the dwarf’s work. There weren’t any fancy enchantments, but the extra damage made for a formidable weapon nonetheless. He was actually missing a good dagger among his armaments. Krom must have recognized the lack and made it for
him. Richter happily tied it to his belt.
He closed the chest and moved on. His next stop was the Cauldron. Richter cast Weak Haste and ran up the hill to the meadow. The guard posted at the top saluted him. Richter nodded back as he ran past and entered the glass building. Unsurprisingly, despite the early hour, Tabia stood working nearby.
“I need health, mana and stamina potions,” he said without preamble
“Greetings, my Lord Richter. I have several prepared,” she said with a slight bow.
The cocoa-skinned elf quickly moved over to a cabinet and removed five of each potion. Richter checked them and saw that each had a potion level of solution and a strength of processed. They all restored 200-300 points over 10-15 seconds. He smiled and turned to leave, but he remembered a question that had occurred to him previously.
“You’ve reached level fourteen, and you’re a journeyman in Alchemy. Why don’t you have a Profession?”
Her face grew very still. She looked down and said, “I was planning to tell you this at a later date, but I have not always been a peaceful person, Lord Richter. I have been a mercenary for more than a decade. I was valued for both my sword arm and my Alchemy skill. That is why my level is as high as it is. The truth is that I have never been in a safe place long enough to go for my trial. Because of the new king’s laws, I was forced to leave the Kingdom of Yves and bring my wife with me. If this proves to be a safe place for the both of us, I do plan to pursue my Profession soon.”
Richter stared at the woman, almost sure that he was not receiving the whole story. He decided to have her take the oath in front of Sumiko as soon as possible. If she was found to be loyal, he would let her keep her secrets. If she wasn’t loyal… well, then Beyan might end up being in charge of the Cauldron after all and something would have to be done about her.
The last thing he did before leaving was to have her grab a large, empty barrel. He upended his Bag of Holding and poured out the fragile, assengai eggs he had collected in the spiders’ cave. They had properties to slow decay or cure poison. She said that she would preserve them until they could be rendered into a potion. Nodding, Richter took his leave. While he walked, he remembered to load his Ring of Spell Holding. The clear stone on the ring turned green.
