The Good Guys Chronicles Box Set

by Eric Ugland

  Blood cascaded down the wyrm, pouring out of the hole I’d made and leaking out of his mouth.

  I laid there, taking in gulping lungfuls of breath, my body steaming in the cold air. Pain was everywhere, not only from the acid burns over most of my body, but also from all my internals getting crushed by the wyrm’s muscles.

  The great beast’s lifeless eyes stared at me, and I felt a hint of sadness. Dude was just doing what he was doing. Just living his life. Granted, he’d come after me — I’d never done a damn thing to him until he attacked me. I was totally justified in doing what I’d done, but I didn’t feel good about it. And then there was the notification.

  GG! You’ve killed a Forest Wyrm (lvl 32 Beast).

  You’ve earned 5000 XP! What a mighty hero you are.

  My body was already knitting itself together. I realized I could close my eyes again, which was nice. Not so nice: realizing my eyelids had been burned away. That was pretty gross. My hair was reasonably intact, and, thank the gods, my beard was fine. Don’t know how, don’t know why, wasn’t going to question it.

  I did my best to wipe the grunge and grime off, but I was pretty much a lost cause.

  I was way out in the forest, with no idea where the camp might be or what direction, well, anything was. There was a muffled glow coming off the scales, which was the indication the world gave me they were useful in some capacity, so I started gathering the scales. I wasn’t going to move, guessing that the rest of the group would be able to track me a whole lot better than I could find them. After removing basically all the green scales on the massive creature, I moved onto pulling out the teeth, then gathering the other bits and bobs of the wyrm. I figured it all had to have a use in some capacity, and, more importantly, it gave me something to focus on so I could ignore the exquisite pain of my body’s repair.

  Somewhere close to sunrise, I heard Nikolai shouting for me.

  “MONTANA!” came the cry.

  “Yo!” I shouted back.

  Nikolai climbed over the body of the wyrm and looked down on me. He nodded a little, perhaps surprised, perhaps pleased. It was always impossible to tell.

  “Not a good idea to run away like that,” he said, finally. “And you need a bath.”

  Then he started walking away.

  “A thank you or something?” I shouted back at him.

  Chapter 83

  It took most of the day before we found a spot suitable for an actual bath. The armor I had was pretty well destroyed, as were all my clothes, except for the seal pants. Luckily because of my bag, that just meant I had a mostly new outfit on after my bath.

  We continued on, just putting one foot in front of the other. Every once in a while, we’d come across the tracks of a big creature. Now we gave them a much wider berth.

  We gratefully settled into a routine as a group. We’d have a small breakfast of grains and other rations I’d liberated from Teela’s friends, and then head out. Ragnar and Skeld (mainly Skeld) would range about collecting nuts and berries for our midday stop. Then we’d get going again, upslope, skirting the edge of the real mountains. On good days, we’d find a game trail, and the walking would be easy. Bad days were down in the valleys clogged with overgrowth, and I’d have to take the front, chopping a path through everything.

  I was back to learning as much about Vuldranni as I could. It was a little awkward having to ask Cleeve what it meant to be an elf, but I did it. He pointed out that he was merely part elf, and had some human ancestry in him as well. Most of the races were pretty closely aligned with traditional fantasy notions. Dwarves had long been fully underground, and had only emerged recently, coming up from underground kingdoms and caverns to join the larger society. Elves, similarly, had been of the forests. Notably, though, they’d been on a different continent than the one we were on currently, somewhere farther east. Much farther. Enough that Cleeve had no notion of where that might be.

  Across the world, there were plenty of sentient animals, as well as humanoid-animal hybrids — minotaurs, centaurs, that sort of thing. There were such a broad range of races that it was actually hard to talk about them all. There were even races that existed primarily in legend. And the unknown ones, like me. Some of the more savage ones tended to stay in racial groups, like orcs. Some, like kobolds or goblins, often sought other, more powerful beings to serve. There were kingdoms that were racist and kingdoms that were not. It was a massive world, and Cleeve was pretty honest when he said he didn’t know that much about the world overall. He’d never left the Empire.

  As to the centaurs, they were well known because the Empire fought them on the regular to the north and east of Saumiers. The plains the centaurs claimed butted up against the hills and other bits of the Empire, and there were constant squabbles over where the exact property line was. And regardless, the centaurs constantly raided the border towns, moving fast because they were half fucking horses. They were quite fond of burning things down, trampling people, and racing away. Usually far enough that chasing them down would be an exercise in futility. Listening to Cleeve talk about facing the centaurs in the field, they sounded like they were the perfect Mongol Horde. Fast and mobile, skilled with the bow, happy to pillage.

  The orcs were also troublesome. Savage and filled with hate for seemingly everything, they seemed only to exist for war and fighting. They were still in the mountains, but constant pressure from the Legions had driven the orc clans back into the depths from whence they came in the first place.

  In terms of where we were headed, Osterstadt had been a free city for a long time. It was the only way to get what was in the Emerald Sea out to the rest of the Empire and beyond. They didn’t want to expand beyond their valley, mostly because one of the downsides of being directly on the Emerald Sea were the monsters. Nightmarish beasts would constantly crawl out of the depths and wage war on Osterstadt and its inhabitants. Well, not war per se. More like wanton destruction. So despite a steady income, the city wasn’t able to grow because it could never spare any resources. As said monsters increased in frequency — and, occasionally, ferocity — they began to overwhelm the city’s defenses.

  That’s when the leaders reached out to the Empire, and the Glatonese gladly welcomed Osterstadt into the fold, sending three Legions to assist and pacify the region. This, obviously, led to conflict with some of the groups who hadn’t been party to the Imperial Acquisition. Hence the skirmishes with the Ursus, who, I suppose, were a tribe of people who just preferred to live in the mountains on their own.

  But that didn’t really gel with the whole Empire state of mind, and there’d been skirmishes on and off. Things seemed to have settled down in the last few years, and there was even talk of a formal meeting between all the Ursus tribes, and maybe even joining the Empire all out.

  In the evenings, when we set up camp, I’d spar with Nikolai or Cleeve while Lee and the Lutra made dinner. Then I’d spend time after dinner working with Lee. He was helping me develop non-combat skills, since pulling the dukedom out of the wilderness was going to be an all-hands-on deck sort of thing.

  First, we did basic crafting. Carving wood and bone into shapes, knapping out obsidian blades, tying knots. The skills were coming onto my character sheet hot and heavy.

  Cool Beans, you’ve learned the skill Carving. With a bit of work, you can take wood, bone, or stone and make it look like something else. Watch out Flea Market, here you come! +5% skill. +1% value.

  Cool Beans, you’ve learned the skill Crafting. With a bit of work, you can combine wood, stone, metal, whatever you get your hands on with other objects and make useful items. Watch out Flea Market, here you come! +5% skill. +1% value.

  And so on. I was carving wooden rings in no time, even getting small stones, some valuable and some not, into them. I spent two evenings making rather beautiful dream catchers, if I do say so myself. And at the start of the second week, Lee guided me through putting several skills together, carving out something that looked like a huge cricket bat, t
hen knapping a bunch of small obsidian blades, and, finally, attaching the blades to the outside edge of the cricket bat.

  Well look at that, you have crafted your first actual, non-improvised, weapon. +150 XP!

  You have made a Macuahuitl

  Macuahuitl

  Item Type: Trash

  Item Class: One-handed Melee, Two-handed Melee

  Material: Wood, Obsidian

  Damage: 10-20 (Slashing), 12-18 (Bludgeoning)

  Durability: 1010

  Weight: 6.8 lbs

  Requirements: Str 9

  Description: A flat wooden club with obsidian blades around the edge.

  Cool Beans, you’ve learned the skill Wooden Weapon-Making. Now you can make clubs, staffs, staves, and other wooden weapons, provided you’ve got the blueprint for them, or you’ve been taught how to make them. +3% dmg, +3% durability.

  Apparently, that meant I was ready for the next set of lessons, which was when we started hiking closer to more rocks. It was geology or botany, all day, every day. Granite over to the left, poison ivy to the right. Schist all over the place.

  On the fourth day of the second week past the lake, we came to a river. Nikolai called a halt well before dark. We’d reached our destination.

  Chapter 84

  The river cut through a cliff above us. Maybe something that had been a waterfall at one point in the past, but was now more along the lines of a whitewater tumble down a steep gradient. The mountains, otherwise, were straight and tall, soaring skyward, very cliff-like. The river had no banks as it went through the mountains, and there was nothing living there. Just rocks. Where we were, though, was thick with trees — tall pines and redwoods — with little in the way of undergrowth beyond big ferns. A lot of rock lined the riverbanks, but there were occasional sandy spots as well. In many ways, it was like a miniature version of the river that left the WarWater lake, cutting into the ground.

  Nikolai told us to make camp, and also to wait. He and Cleeve walked off, and though I was curious where they were going, I was also eager to get camp set up and to take a moment or ten to relax in the daylight hours. I had no idea where they went.

  The hirð boys and I did a quick scout about the immediate area, trying to pinpoint obvious dangers. We chose a camp site right above the river. At some point in the very recent past, the ground had largely collapsed, so there was a wall of rock that made a nice windbreak with decent cover. With a little work, we had a lean-to set up with a thick layer of pine boughs to lay on. It felt almost luxurious.

  With little else to do, I tore off all my armor and clothes and dove right into the river.

  Mild mistake — it was ridiculously cold. The river was crystal clear, a deep intense blue, and tasted fresh. At least, you know, the little bit of water I got in my mouth at that point. It moved quite quickly, and there was a singular deep spot carved out of a rock by an eddy just twenty or so yards down from where we were camping. Really, the only downside to the river was the temperature. I kept thinking I was going to get used to it, but it was continually frigid, almost painful. And yet, it was very necessary. One thing I never really saw in fantasy books, certainly the ones I read, was that on long trips through the wilderness, you stink. Day after day, wearing the same armor, all sweaty, sitting around smokey campfires. You really started to smell. And that’s not counting fighting. Add in fighting, and you’ve got random blood and mystery fluids all over you, things like piss, shit, and vomit, all things I’d seen far too much of on battlefields in this new world of mine. So I swam down to the bottom, got some handfuls of sand, and scrubbed myself.

  Lee stripped down and joined me for a quick dip.

  Skeld and Ragnar went crazy in the water. They shucked off their armor and clothes and swam about with wild abandon, going deep and bringing stuff up from the bottom of the river. Pretty soon, we had a small fire going with a pot of water full of crawfish. A hot lunch. A rarity in our lives, and I was going to make the best of it.

  I don’t know what spices the hirð boys made the broth of, nor where they found them, but it tasted delicious. The four of us were full and happy, naked in the midday sun. I closed my eyes to relax, but elected to just have my head out on a gently sloping rock, keeping the rest of my body submerged. A bit of a personal challenge to see how long I’d be able to stay under the water.

  Until I heard the not-so-subtle sound of someone clearing their throat.

  I opened my eyes to see two young women and one young man standing on the other side of the river. One woman had dark auburn hair, and the other mousey brown. Auburn and the man were both very posh looking, their clothes full of finery and lace. They didn’t have a whole lot of gear with them, so I couldn’t imagine they were tramping through the wilderness. The posh ones had some similarity in their faces, so I suspected brother and sister. Brother had a small sword at his side.

  He struck a manly pose.

  “Ahoy,” he said, his voice the sort of grating nasal that made me immediately and irrationally angry, “you there, ruffian.”

  “Me?” I asked. “Ruffian?”

  “You speak the language, grand. Do be a dear and tell me what you think you are doing?”

  “Here? Sunning myself after having a bit of a swim.”

  “I say, swimming! How quaint.”

  The guy was rankling me. I really wanted to swim over and pull the twit in.

  “I suppose that is why I cannot smell you,” he continued.

  “Maybe that’s why I can smell you,” I replied. “Hint, it’s not a good smell.”

  “You insolent cur! You dare speak to me that way?”

  “Uh, yeah, I do. I dare. Maybe you should take your sister, and, what, her lady-in-waiting, and mosey back into the woods from whence you came.”

  “You know she is my sister? Either you are familiar with my family and stupid to be so insolent, or you are a magic user and must pay for your crimes.”

  “Neither, dickburger. I just used my fucking eyes.”

  “I do say a cur like you needs to be taught a lesson in civility.”

  “Really?” I asked, looking at the man’s lithe frame, then purposefully looking down at the hardened slab of muscle I’d become. “You really want to do this?”

  “Yes,” Brother said. “It needs doing.”

  I shook my head, and climbed out of the water, standing on the stone, naked.

  Brother’s eyes went wide, and I just smiled. I don’t think he’d taken the time to figure out how big of a dude I was. Now that he had, he didn’t seem quite as cocky. Just to show how much I didn’t consider the asswipe a threat, I turned my back to him and walked over to my bag. I pulled out some clean clothes, and got them on. Then my armor, but just the basic leather stuff. And to complete my evening look, I grabbed the big ol’ battle axe from the lean to. It wasn’t a subtle weapon, but I had a feeling the time for subtlety was over.

  Walking back to the river, I gave the axe a few swings to loosen my shoulder up. The axe head made a crisp whooshing noise as it cut the air.

  “My brother is backing out of this,” the sister said, stepping in front of the young man, who was trembling just a bit. “He did not realize you were a brigand.”

  “Oh, I’m not a brigand,” I said. “Or a bandit. Or a highwayman or any particular synonym you want to toss out that might mean criminal.”

  “You are a warrior, are you not?”

  “I am.”

  “Who is your master?”

  “Me.”

  “You fight for yourself then?”

  “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it, sure.”

  “Then how are you not a brigand?”

  “Isn’t stealing a major part of being a brigand? I don’t steal. From anyone. Rather large distinguishing point.”

  I looked behind me, realizing I hadn’t seen either of my hirðmen or Lee in a while. I started to wonder where the rest of my crew had slunk off to.

  “If you will forgive my brother for being so imper
tinent,” Auburn said, “I would appreciate it.”

  “Fine by me,” I said.

  “Then I will do a favor for you in kind. Our father will control this land soon, so I will keep you in mind when he looks to staff his militia. Should you like to have an actual master.”

  “I’ll consider it.”

  “Your name, then.”

  “Yours first, if you don’t mind.”

  “Lady Eliza Northwoods.”

  “Montana,” I said, then immediately remembered I had a last name now. “Montana Coggeshall.”

  “Coggeshall, is it?” Lady Eliza Northwoods said. “I will remember it.”

  “Hope you do,” I replied.

  They walked off like they all had sticks high in their asses, heading downriver. I was certainly curious where they were going.

  I was about to yell for my hirðmen when they popped out of the bushes on the other side of the river, spears at the ready.

  “We were waiting to see if you wanted us to scare them,” Ragnar said.

  “Thanks, boys,” I replied.

  The Lutra offered to take the first two watches, and Lee snagged the third. I’d actually get to sleep all night long. If I could.

  Chapter 85

  I couldn’t. For everything I’d gained coming to this new land, becoming powerful, I’d also lost the ability to sleep. Something which hand’t exactly been a problem for me in the past.

  Nikolai and Cleeve came back down the river sometime while Skeld was on watch. All I know is that when I woke up, everyone was there. All of them were asleep, save Lee, who was on the third watch and struggling to remain awake.