The Questing Game f-2

by James Galloway

  "Danger?" Sarraya scoffed. "I think you underestimate me, cub."

  "A Doomwalker is nothing to take lightly, Faerie," Dolanna said seriously. "Saranam is a city with few stone buildings, and the streets are unpaved. There is little chance to trick the Doomwalker onto stone a third time, so we will have to face it when it stands upon the earth. So caution is only wise."

  "What difference does that make?" Sarraya asked.

  "Doomwalkers can draw energy from the earth," Phandebrass answered. "They use it to heal their injuries, and it increases the power of their magical attacks. I say, fighting a Doomwalker that stands on the earth is a very dangerous undertaking. And since the only way to be rid of it is to completely destroy it, that means that we have to be very careful. Very careful indeed. I say, I know a few spells that may help. I really need to go study them."

  Phandebrass turned to walk away, but Faalken grabbed him by the arm. "I think studying your spells would be a good idea after you hear what we're going to do, wizard," he remarked.

  "True, true," he said with a slightly befuddled smile. "I say, maybe I should wait a bit."

  "And get the others. This will be a team effort, so we must all be present to understand the plan," Dolanna said. "Dar, go get Allia and Camara Tal."

  "Certainly, Dolanna," the young Arkisian said, then he scurried off.

  Tarrin felt his temper rise as the Amazon approached him, but he quelled it in the interest of survival. They would need everyone to do this. Tarrin had fought the Doomwalker twice before, and it had nearly killed him both times. This time, he would be facing it on ground of its choosing, where it would be even stronger. That was something that he didn't want to face by himself. Though it would put his friends in danger, they stood a better chance of defeating Jegojah if they worked together, rather than Tarrin running off to face it alone. Allia arrived with Dar a moment later, the Selani carrying the other drake in her arms. Dar had obviously told her what was going on, and Dolanna quickly explained to Camara Tal why they were meeting, repeating Tarrin's idea of using the Faerie's powerful Druidic spell to try to destroy the Doomwalker.

  Phandebrass picked up Chopstick absently as Faalken leaned against the rail beside Tarrin. "I say, your idea to use the Faerie's decaying attack is a good idea, but it may not work," the mage announced. "When the Doomwalker stands on the earth, its magical powers are amplified by a huge degree. It may have the power to resist the magic."

  "So, you have an idea," Tarrin noted.

  "If you're facing a strong opponent, you weaken him before you go for the kill," Faalken said simply. "Simply put, we wear Jegojah out. When he's tired, then Sarraya attacks him with that spell."

  "You're talking about engaging a Doomwalker in a protracted battle, Knight," Camara Tal said bluntly. "How many of us does it have to kill before it gets tired?"

  "That is a good point," Dolanna sighed. "This Doomwalker is a powerful foe. Even together, it is still a very deadly opponent for us to face."

  "What do you suggest, Amazon?" Faalken retorted. "If Sarraya gets whacked, then it's all out the window. We have one chance, so we have to make sure it works."

  "I don't whack easily, Faalken," Sarraya objected. "I may be small, but I'm tough."

  "He's not saying you're incapable of it, he's saying that the caliber of the opponent makes such an attack a very risky proposition," Phandebrass said thoughtfully, all hints of the fuddled confusion gone from his voice. "We have to weaken the Doomwalker, but in such a way that it minimizes our own danger." Phandebrass rubbed his chin, looking down at the deck. "What we have to do is figure out how to go about this."

  "That seems pretty straightforward, mage," Camara Tal said. "Even if it can draw energy from the earth, it can't do it forever. Especially if we're giving it something else to think about."

  "Yes yes yes, but we must decide how we are going to weaken him," Phandebrass said.

  "The most effective way would be to deny it the earth," Dolanna said. "A large patch of sand would block its powers, and we could conceivably lure it to one of them."

  "You think we can lure it that far from the city?" Camara Tal asked. "From what I remember, Saranam is on grassland, not desert."

  "Yes, but there is more to the city than the grass on which it stands," Dolanna said.

  "Not quite, Dolanna," Phandebrass mused. "Camara Tal raises a valid point. There isn't any sand to use to do that, so we must ask ourselves what the best alternative is."

  "What do you mean?" Dolanna asked.

  "What is it about stone that makes the Doomwalker incapable of drawing energy through it?" he asked. "Dar, my boy, you should know the answer to this."

  "Me? Why do you think that?"

  "Remember when we talked about trees? Trees don't live just on sunshine and water, my boy. Why do they need soil?"

  "Oh, I remember!" he said. "There's organic material in soil that the trees use as food!"

  "Exactly. Doomwalkers draw energy from the earth because they're tapping into the life energy of the land. They are literally draining the land of its life energy. They can even drain living beings of their energy, if they can hold onto them long enough. They need that organic spark in the earth to provide them with a conduit to that energy source. That's why they can't draw through stone. It lacks that organic catalyst."

  "That's why the Goddess told me it had to be on stone," Tarrin said, mainly to himself. "She specifically told me that it couldn't be wood, and now I understand why."

  "Wood is organic, even if it is dead," Phandebrass answered for him. "So, if we can't lure it onto stone, we bring the stone to it."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Sarraya, my dear, you're a Druid. Do you think you can completely leech all the organic material out of a patch of clear ground?"

  Sarraya laughed. "Phandebrass, you're not half as zany as I thought you were!" she complemented. "Of course I can! We have spells to make barren ground fertile. I can just reverse that. It should suck all the life-giving qualities out of the soil. It'll be as barren as dust."

  "So, we lure it into an open area. Tarrin, my boy, you make the perfect bait for that. It's after you, so it will come after you first. If we discover it to be in the area, Tarrin finds a good place away from the city, a place where we can hide nearby but the Doomwalker can't detect us. Tarrin draws it to him, then we allow them to start a fight."

  "What?" Camara Tal said hotly. "I forbid it! You're not risking Tarrin's neck over this, mage!"

  "You didn't let me finish," he said indignantly. "I said we allow them to start a fight. The Doomwalker's already been beaten twice, so it's not going to commit unless it thinks that it's got an overwhelming advantage."

  "That's a good tactic," Faalken agreed reluctantly. "If it thinks it has the advantage, it's going to fight. We make it commit, then Sarraya destroys the soil and bars it from drawing energy. Since it will be committed, it should be a little disorganized over losing its advantage, and Tarrin can keep it pinned until we can have it surrounded. Then it'll be a matter of wearing it down to where Sarraya can decay it."

  "Carefully. Even without a link to the earth, a Doomwalker is a very dangerous foe," Dolanna said. "Just ask Tarrin."

  Tarrin nodded emphatically.

  "It won't be easy, but it'll be better than just laying waste to half of Saranam trying to destroy it," Faalken said. "Can anyone think of anything else?"

  "My brother will not face it alone," Allia said adamantly. "I will stand with him."

  "Sister-"

  "Enough!" she said. "You have dishonored me by denying my place at your side one time too many, brother," she said with steel in her voice. "We are brother and sister in all but blood. You are of the Clan, and one of the Clan does not face danger alone. We are one. You will not go alone."

  "Maybe they don't need us after all," Camara Tal snorted with a slight smile.

  "Why do you say that?" Faalken asked.

  "I've seen them fight seperately. I wouldn't fight
them together for all the money in the world." She tossed her raven tail of hair back over her shoulder. "They may have the Doomwalker down before the Faerie can get over there to destroy it."

  "Not quite," Dolanna said. "Doomwalkers can only be harmed by magical weapons. Faalken is the only one of us fortunate to own one."

  "That's no problem, Dolanna," Phandebrass said with a smile. "I know a spell that places a temporary enchantment into a weapon. It'll make it just as good as a magical weapon, but the effect only lasts about fifteen minutes."

  "I know a spell that will extend the effect of another spell," Camara Tal added. "I can stretch that fifteen minutes into nearly an hour."

  "It'll work on a wizard spell?" Phandebrass asked.

  "If it didn't, I wouldn't have mentioned it," she replied.

  "That'll give us real weapons against it," Faalken said approvingly.

  "Then that is what we will do," Dolanna said. "If we find the Doomwalker is indeed there, we will withdraw to an appropriate area. Phandebrass and Camara Tal will prepare the weapons, and we will wait for it. Once it arrives, Tarrin and Allia will commit it to battle. When they do, Sarraya cuts it off, we surround it, then we weaken it to the point where Sarraya can destroy it. She must do this on the first try. If she fails, the Doomwalker will certainly flee, and attempt to ambush us later."

  "Sounds like a plan," Faalken agreed. "A pretty hairy one, but a plan all the same."

  "Hairy? How?" Camara Tal asked.

  "You'll understand when we get there," Faalken chuckled. "I've seen that Doomwalker fight. It's not going to just lay down and die."

  "It sounds like the Knights are not as brave as their reputation."

  "The Knights are trained to avoid stupidity, Camara Tal," Faalken grinned at her. "Stupid Knights tend to die, so to prevent continual training of replacements, we train them to avoid stupidity whenever possible. Never fight a Troll without at least four Knights, because the average Troll will kill at least one Knight if they don't have four. It's a simple rule, one there to teach Knights that they're not invincible war machines. Well, we don't have a rule for Doomwalkers, but if we did, that number would be around fifty. Minimum."

  "Well said," Dolanna agreed. "There is little more that we can do about this now. Now we simply wait, and hope that the Doomwalker has not reached Saranam."

  "I'd rather face it now," Camara Tal grunted. "At least then we know it won't be following us to Dala Yar Arak. We'll have enough to worry about when we get there."

  "We'll have enough to worry about in Saranam," Faalken grunted. "Thanks to the Wikuni, I don't doubt that every port city knows who we are and what that means. We may be fighting off a horde of other Questers."

  "We'll see," Dolanna remarked, looking out over the ocean. "There is little else that we can do."

  Tarrin looked out, and they all did one by one, staring into the sea, towards Saranam. Towards dangers both possible and certain.

  GoTo: Title EoF

  Chapter 20

  It was certainly a strange city.

  Saranam loomed past the bow as Dancer glided into a shallow, open harbor. It was a strange city, a city of color. Tents dominated the city, staked in orderly rows that resembled buildings, interspersed sparsely with buildings of stone or wood, and the rare tower or other structure that rose over the colorful meadow of tent roofs. Tarrin had never seen anything quite like it bofore. Saranam was a trade city, a place where Arakite merchants came to sell their wares, since so few traders and merchants would go to Dala Yar Arak. It served as a transition for trade, and that explained the tents. A merchant who came to Saranam wasn't going to be staying longer than a couple of months, and inns were expensive, so a tent was the perfect alternative. The city was nestled against a very shallow, gentle harbor, little more than a dip in the coastline, rising only slightly from the ocean. The only thing that stood out in the city were the towers of the city's walls, and the docks. Saranam had an impressively large dock system, to handle the volume of ships that visited, complete with those strange crane devices he'd seen in Den Gauche. The harbor was full of ships, Wikuni clippers and Arakite caravels, Western galleons and smaller fishing vessels of myriad constructions. Even an Ungardt longship was docked in one corner, something Tarrin never expected to see in the Sea of Glass.

  The place smelled very bad. Even from as far out as they were, he could smell the reeking stench of the city. That only seemed to make sense, since the city looked to be lacking a sewer system. It was hard to drain water from streets that were lined with tents. From where he was, he wasn't sure if the streets were even paved. Saranam was an extremely arid place, so it probably made little sense to pave the streets. No rain meant no mud, and so long as the ruts made by wagons were raked out from time to time, a dirt street would serve the city just as well as a paved one. Saranam seemed to be a city that lacked many things he was used to seeing in a city.

  "What's the matter with you?" Dar asked curiously, staring at him. He and the Arkisian were standing at the bow to get a look at the city in the waning light of the afternoon. The sun was close to setting, and Renoit was trying to dock before the sun went down.

  "Can't you smell it?" Tarrin asked in disbelief. "It's so strong, even you should smell it!"

  "Smell what?" Dar asked. "I just smell ocean."

  Tarrin threw up his paws. "Humans!" he snorted scathingly. "That place reeks, Dar! It stinks so bad, I can smell it from here!"

  "We're a longspan out, Tarrin," Dar objected. "And the wind is to our back!"

  Tarrin gave him a flat look.

  "Oh. I guess that's why you think it smells so bad," he reasoned.

  "Exactly," Tarrin said, putting his paw over his nose so his own scent dulled the sharp stench assaulting him. "I'm starting to hope Renoit will pass this city by."

  "We need supplies," Dar said. "Renoit said we'd only be here a day. Two at the most."

  "That's two days too long for me," Tarrin grunted. "I think my nose is going to melt."

  "Go human," Dar said. "You told me once that your nose isn't as sensitive in human form."

  Tarrin snorted. "Kill my nose or kill my body. What a choice." He absently shifted into his human form, causing the nagging ache to immediately take up residence inside him, but it did blissfully cause the horrible stench to fade, and then disappear from his nose. "I think my body can take it better than my nose."

  "Sometimes your blessing is your curse," Dar said philosophically.

  "I see you shaved."

  "How many cuts do I have?" Dar asked with a chuckle.

  "A few. Nothing serious. Nothing your horde of admirers will notice."

  "Please," Dar grunted. "They drive me crazy. What do they want from me, anyway?"

  "I can tell you that, Dar," Tarrin said with a steady look. "Humans may be smart, but they're still animals. Those girls want exactly what any female in season wants."

  Dar blushed furiously. "How do you know that?"

  Tarrin touched the side of his nose meaningfully. "When a human woman's in season, her scent changes," he said calmly.

  "I wish I could smell that," he growled softly. "Talli stuck her hand on my rear yesterday, and she tried to kiss me."

  "If you want to get rid of them, bed a few of them. They'll realize that you're just using them for sex, and they'll stop bothering you."

  " Tarrin!" Dar said in a strangled tone. "That's-that's-well, that's rude!"

  "So?"

  Dar gawked at him, then he laughed helplessly. "Like you care about what people think of you," he accused with a grin. "I was raised with manners."

  Tarrin lowered his eyes, then turned and looked back over the bow. So had he, once. But a bite from Jesmind had changed all that. Now he had a new upbringing, one that was much more primitive, much less civilized. It hurt a little to think that Dar thought that what he was now was what he always was. He was human, once. He'd had a life, and friends, and family, and he wasn't violent or dangerous. But that was another life, anot
her time, a time long past. Being in human form made the Cat a bit more distant, but it was never enough to get away from it, to return to what once was. His human form was just an image, an illusion, a convenient way to hide the truth within. A painful reminder of what he once had, and what was taken from him.

  "When do you think we'll get there?" Dar asked.

  "Go away, Dar," Tarrin said calmly, quietly. Dar understood Tarrin enough to know that he wasn't being facetious or playful. Without another word, Dar quietly retreated from him, leaving him alone in the bow with his thoughts.

  "That wasn't very nice, Tarrin," Sarraya accused indignantly as she winked into view beside him. Sarraya really liked Dar, and she jumped to his defense whenever she felt him slighted.

  "Get away from me, Sarraya," he said in a deceptively calm voice, low and throaty, nearly a growl.

  Not one to be foolish, the sprite did as she was told immediately.

  He spent the time it took to dock in complete solitude and in silence. Dar's jibe stung, but he hadn't meant it as an insult. Tarrin had to admit that he didn't care what people thought of him. He was who he was, and he accepted it. That was all he needed. The approval of people he had no care for didn't concern him. It didn't hurt to think of what people thought of him, it hurt when he remembered how he used to be, how much he had changed. Changed in ways he'd never have expected, changed in ways that would make his family ashamed of him. It was a good thing they were all in Ungardt, well away from him.

  The ship tied up and lowered its gangplank smartly at sunset. Tarrin was joined by Allia and Dar, each wearing long silk robes to conceal themselves from wandering eyes. Allia looked particularly uncomfortable in her attire. It was a bright red silk, complete with a hood-like cowl and veil common in Saranam and Yar Arak. Saranami and Arakite women favored the garments, for some mysterious reason. She was carrying his staff, which she handed to him wordlessly when she reached him.