How to Be an Adventurer- World of Gimmok

by Damien Hanson

  Wex nodded, but Enpeasea seemed a bit unsure.

  “I’m coming with you guys if you will let me.” The wood elf burped, the glut of food in his belly forcing it to protest.

  Jenn Eric, the bard, looked a bit disappointed.

  “I’m not heading back by myself,” he said with a shiver. “Not with all of that stuff out there.”

  “Just so you know, we are all destined to die,” Bern said with fake cheer.

  Wex smiled. “So you have a destiny, then, do you? Count me in twice then. Because I’m gonna guess that I’m already involved then, and if I try to run away, something very bad will happen.”

  “Worse than ending the world?” Carric asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Yeah, maybe. There are plenty of things worse, I guarantee it,” the cleric stated with thought.

  Yenrab looked at them all and smiled.

  “Yeah. Yeah! Ya know, ending the world might not be so bad. And, hey, look at all the friends we’ve made before the big event!”

  Tracy looked about zeself, lost in thoughts. The rest just looked at the big man, though, and themselves broke into wide and toothy happiness. The barbarian’s attitude was quite infectious.

  ***

  “Alright, guys. Back to business. It looks to me like our two new guys need to fan out in the rear, so we can keep up our three-man blitz. Arms to the ready. And let’s continue forward,” Yenrab suggested with that sort of force of personality that makes it feel like a command.

  The adventurers took their places, with Tracy and Carric fanning out back left while the new guys took to right field. Yenrab prepped high, Bern prepped low, and Svein just stood ready to stab where necessary.

  Bern crept to the door, scanning it for traps through sight and motion, then placing a thieves’ horn to its boards, its tip placed lightly but securely into his own ear.

  “I don’t hear anything,” he whispered, “but that doesn’t mean nothing is there.”

  Carric’s eye twitched as he considered the sentence. Was that a double negative?

  “Alright, guys. On the count of six,” Yenrab stated.

  “Um, why six?” Tracy countered.

  “I, well, I guess I don’t know. It just seemed less cliché than three. Though I also thought of maybe, perhaps, going on a random integer as rolled by a die.” Yenrab looked a bit confused with himself. “Sometimes things get a little crazy up there,” he noted, tapping his noggin with his forefinger.

  A light flared, and Tracy was holding a six-sided dice that glowed with a pink hue.

  “Sometimes, we need to be a little crazy.”

  Tracy rolled the die.

  “We go on five. One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five!”

  Yenrab unlatched the door, and the three burst on through—into ice and snow.

  “Whoa!” yelled Yenrab as he scrambled hard to keep his feet. Svein naturally stayed upon his own, joyously skating as if born to it. And Bern, well, charging in low, torso stretched well beyond his feet, ate snow and ice as he took a terrifying nose-bloodying dive into the hard surface before them and slid a fair amount along the long room they found themselves within. He took immediate care to keep his tongue firmly with his mouth, avoiding the possibility of getting it stuck to the icy floor.

  The barbarian, like Svein, was well-suited to such icy climes and steadied himself in just a short time and with little effort.

  “What in the name of the Bear is going on here?” he asked them all with wonder.

  Tracy looked around, speculative.

  “I’d like to suggest wild magic, but those snaps of power fade pretty quickly. Well . . . usually.” Ze smiled broadly at some hilarious and distant memory. “But, honestly, it seems more likely to be sourced by some magical item not very unlike the heating one we found previously. Carric, could you, what did you sing before, M to the D?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got this.” Clearing his throat, the bard again summoned up his magical detection spell, seeing the auras of magic that existed in the world about him.

  “That block of ice, over there against the wall. It emanates elemental magic, roughly or exactly the same to that of the heating device. It’ll be invaluable if we retrieve it. Imagine a room of snow and ice. We could store food until we needed it. This whole concept here is amazing. That hag may have been horrid, but it sure had some good ideas,” Carric said with a smirk.

  “But why is it here? That hag wasn’t keeping food fresh. This feels like a puzzle, a bit. Doesn’t it?” The newly come cleric of Mask roamed about the room, figuring out some sort of calculation in his head.

  “We found a heating device and now there is a cooling device trapped in ice. This seems pretty straightforward,” Wex added. “Fire beats ice. We need to blast that block!”

  “Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about!” Bern threw in with excitement.

  Tracy frowned, thinking through hir courses at the Mage College, that city state of magical wonder to which the magically inclined of many races often flocked. Those halls of white marble inlaid with gold filament and gem work, those exotic classrooms filled with all sorts of magical devices and rare substances. There was something about this situation here that made his mind wander back. Something bad.

  “Let’s do it,” Tracy said, grinning an evil smile. Only one way to find out!

  ***

  An excerpt from the pages of the Mage’s Arcanum, Volume XIV.

  Since the time of the others, when war was fought between the globe upon which we all reside and another whose mages had brought them here in search of pillage and glory, there have existed the higher stages of magic. Though we make talk of the nine levels of magery there do, indeed, exist higher levels in our very unique world for are we not the magic of two worlds combined? In the thaumaturgical equation icm*3+9, known as the mana equation, we must multiply by two to get the actual available mana inherently present in our world as it exists today. This actual number is as yet to be figured, but its effects are well felt throughout the land by any who cast beyond the 9th level. This can occur with magical devices as well. Especially those that, on the surface, seem diametrically opposed to one another, but in reality, share the same school and act as magnets instead of annihilators, drawing to each other and combining their energies. In this world of ours, with a possible magical ceiling of at least 12 levels and possibly even as high as 16 or even 18, the results of this, depending on the power of the objects in question, can well be catastrophic. If two godly artifacts were united in such a manner it could even result in an explosion so powerful as to set half the world on fire, to cloud the skies for a decade or more, and perhaps to wipe out most life on this planet.

  It is, for this reason, that as mages we must never delve into magic greater than the 9th level. Not in this world, not in the dimension in which the magic of the mana well has propelled and kept us in. If two magnificent objects of 9th level held kinship with one another and were to combine, and in the unlikely event that this world were, truly, one capable of a full 18 levels of focused power, it would definitely be the end of our world.

  ***

  “Well, guys, I’m not really a magic type. What, exactly, well, how do we do this? Ya know, like, is there a ray function? Can we shoot fire from it?” Yenrab scratched his head, thinking about how to use this thing against the ice block.

  “Why don’t we just put it on top of the ice block and activate it?” Wex asked, quite confident about the way forward. “It seems to be a cooking block, so I don’t think that will hurt it any.”

  Carric fired forward, “What about if the water gets on the orb? I feel like that might be a problem.”

  “Pish,” Bern said, dismissing him with a wave and a face, “that’s gotta be planned into this thing. Who hasn’t boiled over a bit while cooking potatoes?”

  “Yeah, okay, fine, but where do we put it then?” Carric asked, examining the thing.

  Yenrab laughed and grabbed up the device.

  “Righ
t on top, of course,” he said, accidentally slamming it a bit into the ice before them.

  “No, mate, it has to be more centered if we’re gonna do this right. You putting it there is just going to keep us waiting!” Bern chimed.

  Tracy watched in eager excitement from the corner with no sound.

  “I agree with Bern,” Wex noted. The assassin beamed. Carric snorted in frustration.

  “Look, just put it wherever it works, alright? It’ll do its job wherever you put it,” the bard stated.

  The barbarian, the cleric, and the assassin looked at him as if he were mad.

  “We need to do it right!” they said in unison.

  The half-elf backed off.

  “Alright, alright, just do it fast, alright? We’ve got an appointment with destiny.”

  They bickered a little bit more over what part of the block to set it on, but finally they finished. Setting the cube upon the block, this way and that way, all three of them finally agreed that it was set in the most efficient place possible. While Carric scowled over their very inefficient use of time, Tracy yelled out the command word, allowing the orb to spring to life and bathe them all in its warm and reddish light.

  The light was pretty and soothing. The orb rolled its heat out in waves, and the ice block began to melt. The process was slow, but it was also relaxing. Yenrab pulled a rolled-up stitch work of hides and laid it on the icy ground.

  “Hey, guys, ya know, we have nothing better to do,” he said in that new and commanding tone of voice. “Let’s everyone just crowd in, sit down, and just rest a bit while the magic does its work.”

  Every one of them did so, moving in with heart and feeling.

  “That device right there is wonderful,” Carric said with a sigh. “Right here, the heat is just right.”

  “I feel like it could be a little closer,” Tracy opined.

  “Women,” Bern sighed.

  “Manwomen?” Yenrab corrected in a confused voice.

  “Just call me Tracy,” the sorcerer threw in, smiling at their discomfort. “It really doesn’t matter to me. I don’t know myself.”

  They all stretched out as well as they could and relaxed.

  “I bet,” Bern said, his large muscles taut as he pulled them this way and that, savoring the minor pain effect within, “this thing could make a mean braai. Just imagine meat slung over a grill lying on top of that cube, slowly sizzling and popping as we all lie back, drinking beer or whisky or whatever really. Out in a forest clearing, with a sunny sky. Or even back in the alleys of Nemed City . . . though I suppose that wouldn’t be so good for you all since you’d all be slaves there.”

  “Even us halfies?” Yenrab asked as he thought of this awe-inspiring sight. A braai. How fantastic!

  “Yeah. My homeland isn’t a good place for anyone who can’t pass as human. The dark days of the Goblin empire really put a complex into my people, and now they are bound and determined to never again allow the other races a place in their society, for fear of some repeat of history.”

  Carric nodded and then leaned forward to add in his own piece.

  “No one could have foreseen the rise of Gharag Heartstabber nor the power that such disparate tribes of, well, nomads and primitives could wield when united. And no one now can exactly remember the horror and bloodshed that was cast by his Goblin empire. I understand their fear. Though I don’t agree with it. It was a coalition of races that defeated the goblins in the end, after centuries of slavery and serfdom. They got the wrong lesson, I think.”

  “Yes. You are right, Carric. The place could be so much more if they just let go of their caste system. And the wealth of that place is magnificent yet hoarded away from all but the top few.” The man leaned back, his hands now massaging his temples as he thought things through. “I always felt that there was something wrong with that. I guess, thinking about it, I’ve never robbed a poor man because of it.”

  “I find it ironic that they adopted a system almost the same as the one the goblins had established. Ironic and also depressing.” Carric sighed. “Working together, with the right leaders and the right system in place, the world could be so much greater.”

  Pop!

  A sound came from the ice as something within began to glow blue and shake. The heating device glowed brighter and hotter, spraying and clawing at the ice in a shaky and agitated fashion, eager to get into the core of the block.

  “Uhm, guys?” Carric took to his feet, the others following in boot-step unison.

  And Tracy slapped his head and guffawed in sudden remembrance.

  “Gah! Duh! The mana equation! Listen, icm*3+9 is the basic equation for the prime material plane, but elevated by the power of not just our world but another, we must enhance by a factor of two, giving us a new range of magical interactions and volatility!”

  “Um, what?” Yenrab asked, well confused. None of the rest seemed to know what he was going on about as well. Excepting Carric Smith.

  Carric’s eyes went wide. He wasn’t a mage, but he had minored in thaumaturgical equations at Bard College. “It means run! Now! To the other room!”

  It felt like slow motion as the party began to flee, making another five feet before the devices met and exploded. Icy-blue flames blasted outwards alongside hail balls of flaming magma, simultaneously scorching and freezing their backs as the kinetic force of the reaction lifted them up and flung them, hard, against the very door they would next have been seeking, and the wall sections above and to the sides of it. In the far distance, things squealed and moved in terror, and the elemental abomination swept through the entirety of the room, slaughtering a nest of spiders the size of dogs that had been hidden there, as well as lighting up a hatch exit upwards.

  Wex began to laugh, and the others joined in. Even Tracy felt good. For whatever reason, the majority of the blast had coned outward and away from them, slaughtering a bunch of nasties hiding on the other side and also giving them insight on where and how to proceed. Lady luck was smiling at them, and while she’d also given them a spank on the butt along the way, no one was hurt enough to complain or even see this as anything more than great fortune. Nobody, that is, except Bern.

  “My braai!” he mourned with great sorrow, shaking his head at visions that were never to come to pass.

  Chapter 32: Coming to Blows

  How to be an Adventurer—Danger, Destiny, and the Climactic Battle.

  So you’ve faced the temptations of a god and the spirit of a great hero from long ago. He exists here in this tome, a dimension all of its own, but he is resting now. You are on your own there.

  The dangers of an adventurer’s stronghold can be fierce. Expect large battles, an army of enemies, traps, and even enemy spells and magic. Be very careful and plan your strategies well for often, the first battle is just a prelude to a second harder one. Don’t use up all of your magic in the beginning when it is so sorely needed in the end.

  Stronghold adventures are an endurance match, not a strength one. Outlast the dangers and then out-brawn the final opponent.

  Accomplish this task, defeat this structure and these creatures, and know well then that you have become seasoned adventurers well worthy of the name.

  ***

  “Well,” said Yenrab, putting away the book while everyone chuckled and chatted amongst themselves. “I guess, ya know, we know the way forward.”

  Carric and Jenn Eric stopped playing their light, soothing music, closing minor cuts, and wiping away slight burns. Bern stretched this way and that.

  “Thanks, mate,” he said, with the others murmuring similar sentiments. “You too, Carric Smith,” he added with a wink to his new best friend Wex, who burst out loud with laughter.

  “Oh, man, that was great,” he threw back to the assassin. Carric grunted, half-amused and half-angry.

  Wex the cleric walked over to Yenrab and looked at him, his expression covered by the mask of his god.

  “Yenrab, we don’t just know the way forward,” his s
aid in a jovial tone. “We cleared the way forward as well! Eh?”

  The cleric gave him a light elbow to his ribs.

  “Yeah, we well did that,” the barbarian responded, looking again in awe at the burned and toasted spider corpses that littered the room. “That might have been a long fight.”

  Carric Smith frowned. “Let’s not be too confident, guys. And Tracy. I think we need to be careful. That hatch seems like it could easily become dangerous. If anything is up there waiting, we’ll be fighting up, and as the song warns, ‘It’s over Anakin. I have the high ground.’”

  “What a nerd,” Wex chuckled. Carric gave him a glare.

  “Do we really need these guys?” the bard complained to Tracy and Yenrab while Bern told Wex some private joke and Jenn Eric pantomimed juggling balls. “Heck, aren’t they traumatized? Shouldn’t they be going home?”

  “Relax, friend Carric,” Tracy replied. “I’m sure they’ll leave after this quest is over.”

  “Or after destiny kills us, and we get sent wherever to burn forever,” Yenrab chimed in.

  The bard nodded.

  “Alright. Fine. Whatever,” he said to them in frustration. “But I say we make that new guy Wex go first.”

  “Hey, Wex, you’re on point,” Yenrab called out.

  “Aye aye, chief,” the masked wood elf responded. “I’ll be your muscle, and you be the cleric.”

  Bern laughed uproariously. Yenrab chuckled a bit, despite trying to stifle it from the angry eyes of Carric, who seemed to be quite irritable.

  Everyone readied their weapons and spells, with a new order of battle agreed upon. Wex would open the hatch, which swung downward, and everyone else would stand ten feet away in a semicircle ready to wreck whatever was there, if even there was something.

  Wex began to check for traps. Bern whistled in appreciation. Wex was a cleric/thief, or a man skilled in both a variety of roguish skills and well as a magic-wielding priest of his deity Mask. Absolutely wonderful! Carric groaned.

  “We’re clear,” the masked cleric of Mask called, “or at least I am, since I’m the one risking my butt here. Let me know when you all grow a pair.”