by Chris Fox
“Whatever the reason…he succeeded.” The old man shivered. “White pacified the trolls. Got them to toe the line. I’ve heard talk he’s trying to weaponize them, but I don’t have any details.”
“Is okay.” Bert raised a hand. “Bert will meet with spymaster to get details. Can use shop as base of operations?”
“Of course! I’d be proud to be part of the resistance.” The old man straightened, and wore a certain sort of dignity.
“Yay! Now Bert take friends to meet spymaster. Be back soon.” Bert moved to the door, and she realized he’d become their leader. Her trope made her intelligent, but Bert’s made him practically a god.
Would it be enough? They had to try.
26
A Hasty Plan
After Bert had walked Boberton around to the rear of the stable he returned to the front of the building where Kit and his new gnome buddy were waiting. Their cloaks were pulled tight about them to combat the chill, which deepened as night grew.
“Okay, this way.” Bert retraced his steps, and realized it had been a very, very long time since he’d had to walk this great a distance unaided. Normally he had Boberton, or a wagon. Bert had become spoiled!
He didn’t even have to carry a pack, which he’d left inside the wagon. That made walking easy, and it was mostly downhill anyway. He brought them all the way back to the bridge, then down a set of stairs on the side that led them to the moat underneath.
Bert relaxed when he saw that his people had already gathered. Six owls, twelve ravens, eleven squirrels, and one slug with the finger of the king pinned to his…slime. Everyone with a limb snapped a salute as Bert approached.
“Ah, your lordship.” The slug gave a slug-like bow. “We knew you would return. We’ve gathered each evening, as you requested, and have prepared a detailed report on White’s comings and goings. He doesn’t really come or go, so much as he stays in his keep. Mostly it’s the ogre coming and going.”
“Hmm.” Bert frowned and began to pace. Behind him Kit and the gnome sat down against the wall, but he focused on thinking. “White scary. White built scary defenses. White expect adventurers. White also know about Bert, and Kit, and gnome-who-punch-nuts. Must get White to leave keep, and come to us. How get White to leave?”
Bert looked up at Kit, and then to the gnome. They’d traveled with White, so they had the best chance of understanding how and why he did things.
“It won’t be easy.” The gnome shook his head. “White is all about self-preservation, and he knows he’s safe if he doesn’t leave that keep. It would take something he wanted badly to get him out.”
“What about sky rock?” Bert rubbed his hands together, and looked a proper dark lord for once. “Rock make everyone who see it want it. Only one in whole world. We send gnome-buddy to tell White that he see rock, and rock very powerful. You tell necromancer need help to get rock. If he greedy he come out of castle, to come get rock.”
“That’s where I see a major problem.” Kit folded her hands in her lap, and enjoyed the shop’s fireplace, which roared merrily, a contrast to the chill night. “White and Crushstuff excel at kicking in dungeons. I saw the monsters at your disposal. Those poor creatures won’t stand a chance. White will easily get past them.”
“Ah!” Bert raised a single instructive finger. “Bert want White to get through dungeon. Everyone who touch rock go POOF. White strong. Really strong. Not sure we can kill. White can probably block spells.”
“Almost certainly.” Kit nodded along. “He’ll have that and many other defenses. There’s a good chance this rock won’t even affect him.”
“Maybe.” Bert gave a heavy sigh. She was right. It might not work. But they had to try. “Bert willing to try. Bert think rock will kill White. If not…then we get White into Bert’s territory. Bert can look at character sheet, and maybe find way to stop White.”
“He’s right.” Nutpuncher folded his arms, which caused him to flex his tiny gnome muscles. “We need to try. I can tell White the truth about the stone so I don’t need to lie, and then he can cast a scrying spell to confirm it. I’d recommend getting back to the dungeon quickly, because White has that flying carpet, and he can carry an entire army on it. He’ll be dropping off several crack legions right on your doorstep.”
“Bert will tell monsters to hide.” Bert rubbed his hands together, and adopted a vengeful look. Or what he hoped was a vengeful look. Maybe he should puff out his cheeks. “White will get to sky rock, and sky rock will work. Has to work.”
If it did not, Bert didn’t know what to do. Even if he set up a kingdom somewhere else White would eventually find it. There had to be a way to stop him, even if doing so meant that Bert might…die.
Who would take care of Boberton?
“I don’t know why, but…there’s something about the sky rock.” Kit tapped her lip and adopted that dreamy far off look that Bert rather liked. “I think there’s something from the real world, but I don’t know what it is. I…I worry about giving it to White. What if it doesn’t destroy him? What if he’s able to use it somehow?”
“Bert don’t even know what rock do.” Bert gave a tiny shrug. All his shrugs were tiny. “Eye of Soreness don’t know. Dark lords don’t know. No one ever seen before. White might be powerful, but Bert think he no different than elves. Poof.”
“I hope you’re right.”
So did Bert. If he was wrong, stopping White fell upon his tiny shoulders, and he didn’t know what he was going to do.
27
Deal with Him
The Dark Lord White sat atop the highest throne in the highest tower of his newly upgraded Keep of Deadly Death. He could now manufacture eleven hundred wights an hour, and because undead troops did not eat there was no upkeep. He could have an infinite army…for free.
That army needed a general of course, but he had that. Crushstuff loved the role, and the ogre had proven surprisingly able. He had trolled the trolls so effectively that they’d flipped, and had begun working for White.
The undead ogre stood on the far side of the room, pestering Sir Patrick with questions. White usually tuned their conversations out, but he’d been supremely bored for days now, and any distraction was welcome.
“How exactly,” Crushstuff was asking, “do I become a death knight? I want the red eyes. Mine are just sort of…dead. It ain’t very intimidating.”
“You have to go to Raven’s Loft.” Sir Patrick folded his arms and eyed the ogre judgily. “It’s a small bookstore down on fourth. There you will learn the awful price of becoming a death knight.”
“And what is this awful cost?” White demanded, interested in spite of himself.
Sir Patrick rose to his full height, and planted his great sword against the stone. His voice came low and somber as he related the answer. “Seventy-nine ninety-five. You don’t even get a kit. It’s just a PDF explaining that you have to die tragically after an incredibly evil act. I could have just Googled it.”
White should have known better than to get involved in the conversation. He was saved from having to chastise the knight yet again when one of the last people he expected to see came striding through the throne room doors.
That was possible because White had made no move to secure his keep. Why should he? He’d become twelfth level in a class that even he admitted shouldn’t exist. White had the best spells and abilities from every class in the game, and a few that he’d made up entirely.
If any adventurers wanted to unseat him they were welcome to try.
The diminutive figure who strode through the door wasn’t hostile, though, which saved his life.
“Nutpuncher,” White spat the word at his former friend. “The traitor returns. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill and animate you right now?”
“What kind of bonuses will that give me?” Nutpuncher sidled up to the lowest step at the base of his plastic throne.
“Dude, you should totally do it!” Crushstuff rushed over, and the ogre offer
ed the gnome a fist bump. “We could be dead buddies. Roll around and wreck stuff, like we used to. I just beat down these trolls, and they kept respawning, and I kept wrecking them, and eventually they gave up. They work for us now.”
“Where did you send them?” The gnome perked up, and appeared to be his old self, which raised White’s suspicions. He trusted no one.
“I sent them to mess with the dwarves.” Crushstuff gave a rotting grin. “They’re infesting the whole kingdom. It’s pretty hilarious stuff.”
“Nutpuncher.” White leaned forward, looming over the gnome. “Crushstuff may have accepted your return, but I have not. You’ve spent a great deal of time in the company of Kit, who did not return, I see. Where is she, and why have you returned?”
The gnome’s shoulders slumped. “She hates you and won’t come back. We headed into Keeble Forest to find a sky rock, and turns out that Bert had it. The goblin built a dungeon, and is hiding the magic rock. I wanted to steal the rock, but as you can imagine Kit—”
“Wanted to work with Bert.” White leaned back on his plastic throne, and laughed uproariously as he reveled in being right. “You thought she’d be a fun adventuring partner, but she betrayed you to work with an NPC critter. Is that how it went?”
“Yeah.” Nutpuncher kicked at the stone dejectedly. “Listen. I haven’t forgiven you. You’re a real prick, White, and you expend party members like you get a volume discount or something. But Kit has gone native, and I want XP. You’re twelfth level! Even after working with Kit I’m barely halfway through ninth. I don’t want to be the weakest one.”
Crushstuff began to snicker. “I’m already tenth. Guess that makes you the weakest one.”
“See?” The gnome balled his fists. “I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have rocked the boat. But you need to be less of a prick, White. This needs to be fun like it used to.”
White considered the gnome. He appeared sincere, and didn’t possess many ranks in the bluff skill, so it was unlikely he’d be able to lie convincingly.
“I might agree to do that.” To his own immense surprise White meant it. Ruling over everything had grown rather boring, and while there were still plenty of lands left to conquer, it lost its luster when you knew ahead of time you were definitely going to win. He’d gotten lonely. And bored. “I’ll be nicer, and take your needs into account. I will even share more power, if you will come back to the White side.”
Nutpuncher gave a resolved nod. “Then I want back in. I’ll tell you all about Bert, and how to get to the dungeon. You still got that carpet?”
“Of course.” White rose from his throne with a stretch, and strode over to the window. Rain slicked the keep and the cobblestone streets below. Not a single figure moved. “I have animated every last citizen, save shopkeepers, and they are ready. We can take them all. Nine crack legions of wights.”
“Wow.” Nutpuncher hopped up on the window sill to get a look. “Looks like I definitely joined the right side. All right, here’s the deal. The sky rock is inside Mount Dhuuum, in the lowest level, past the maze.”
The moment the gnome gave him the location White sucked in a deep breath and intoned the words to a potent scrying spell. “Tumultus Secretum!”
A shimmering window in the air appeared that revealed a rocky room bathed in a volcanic glow. That glow paled compared to the green fire of the blazing sky rock. White approached the scrying spell, and extended a hand even though he knew he couldn’t touch the strange rock. “I must have it….”
Beside him he realized both Crushstuff and Nutpuncher had also risen and were facing the scrying spell. Their covetous eyes had fixed upon the sky rock, which had been emblazoned with numbers on each of its twenty sides.
The object tickled something in the back of his mind. It was maddeningly familiar, and he sensed that obtaining it, and obtaining it quickly, was of paramount importance.
White stroked his goatee and considered his options. The Dark Lord Bert would have a small but capable army of monsters. White’s legions would crush them, and even were that not the case he himself could destroy anything Bert had arrayed against him.
“I believe,” White decided aloud, “that based on your reaction neither of you can be trusted to retrieve the sky rock. I will set out with my legions, and bring it back here for further study.” White hesitated, and then forced himself to consider his companions. “We will examine it together, and can decide what to do with it as a group.”
The anger faded in both their gazes, but the lust and greed remained. It was a good thing White had no intention of keeping his word.
“Oh, and one more thing.” White turned back to Nutpuncher. He narrowed his eyes, which activated a spell-like ability. An aura of truth burst out around him, compelling everyone but him to speak no false word. “Nutpuncher, are you still working with Kit?”
“Yes.” The gnome blinked down at himself in surprise. “Oh, crap.”
“Ah, so you plan to betray me.” White turned to the ogre. “Deal with him, Crushstuff. I will fetch the sky rock, and when I return we will share it.”
The ogre smiled cruelly down at the little gnome as he eased his axe from its leather sheathe. “Sure, White. I don’t much like traitors. I’ll take care of the gnome.”
White turned from the fight, and assumed Crushstuff had the situation well in hand. There was no way the gnome could win. Not after the upgrades he’d given the ogre.
But if the gnome somehow prevailed? Well, then White would deal with the traitor upon his return. For now he had a sky rock to obtain.
White didn’t know what that rock did, but he knew it was meant for him, and him alone. That rock was his destiny, and he would have it, along with Bert’s head.
28
Player Kill
Crushstuff turned toward the tiny gnome, and raised his axe in a defensive position. He didn’t hesitate because Nutpuncher was his friend. Quite the opposite. He hesitated because he knew his friend, and knew him well. The gnome would be agile, and nearly impossible to hit. But if Crushstuff managed it the gnome would likely die in one shot.
The logical thing for the gnome to do would be overwhelming offense, as he’d have to whittle down the ogre’s hit points. All of the gnome’s attacks would land, but Crushstuff’s damage reduction would blunt the gnome’s already weak punches
So why hadn’t he attacked?
“Are we really going to do this?” Nutpuncher backed slowly away, though the monk did dance on the balls of his feet, ready to defend himself if needed. “We’ve been friends a long time. And White will turn on you sooner or later.”
“Why do you think that?” Crushstuff lunged and attempted a low slash, but the gnome hopped over the blade, and danced nimbly out of reach. “He’s only turning on you because you betrayed him.”
“Because he turned me to stone, remember?” Nutpuncher circled the edge of the room. He still hadn’t attacked. Was he trying to lull Crushstuff into a mistake? “He wants to win, and he doesn’t share. You’re only around as long as you’re useful.”
The ogre roared and charged, maybe because the gnome was right. His axe slammed into the stone between the gnome’s legs, as the monk flipped out of the way at the last moment.
“Can’t dodge forever.” Crushstuff interposed himself between the monk and the wider portion of the room. He needed to limit his opponent’s mobility. “And all I have to do is connect once. If I get sixteen plus to hit you’re done, scrub.”
“And then what?” The gnome rolled away from another slash. “Let’s say you kill me.”
“Then what?” Crushstuff blinked in confusion, and hesitated. “Then I get tenth level from killing you, and I level up. What do you mean ‘then what?’”
“You saw the sky rock.” Nutpuncher flipped atop the axe blade, then kicked off to land on a bookshelf against the far rock. “White won’t share it. He won’t let you have it, or a say in what happens to it. At best you get scraps of power. You’re a pet. Nothing more. I was
content to be a pet, but when your ‘master’ is cruel…it’s not a lot of fun. Trust me, sooner or later White will expend you too. Besides…we’re friends man. I don’t want to hurt you.”
The gnome eyed him searchingly, and Crushstuff lowered his axe. Nutpuncher smiled and they shared a moment.
“See, here’s the thing, man,” the ogre explained as he approached the bookshelf. “What you really need to understand about me—”
Crushstuff poured all his strength into his next swing, and brought his axe down on the gnome. This time the monk was too slow to dodge, and the weapon smashed the tiny gnome through the bookshelf, and into the stone. His friend did not rise. He’d never rise again, unless White animated him.
“I just want to hit stuff, man.” He shook his head at the remains of his friend. “You used to be the same way. I hope your next character is more fun.”
The gnome’s words haunted him, though. Would White really betray him? Nah, couldn’t happen. Crushstuff trusted the necromancer. White had always done right by him.
Hadn’t he?
29
Cautious Advance
White stepped atop his flying carpet, and surveyed the legions of undead at his command. Row after row of barrow wights stood waiting, each cradling an ancestral weapon, and wearing their rusted chainmail. They were tough, lethal, and anyone they killed would rise as a wight themselves.
“Come!” White bellowed.
His minions began stepping onto the carpet, which automatically expanded to fit. Because of the way the carpet had been worded in the rules it had no maximum size, and within a half hour he’d loaded all nine legions of undead soldiers.
White ordered the carpet into the air, and they soared over his new kingdom. It was the first time he’d had such a magnificent aerial view since he’d taken over, and was able to survey the changes he’d wrought.
