“I’m just going to nod my head and pretend I understand,” said Olaf.
“Probably for the best,” said Micaela. “I don’t think Bye-bye even completely understood. Somehow, he linked a fairy tale to creating a totem with the spirit of a dead Shaman in it being the solution to my problem.”
“Uh huh,” said Olaf, shaking his head. “If this weren’t a world of magic, I just might think we were all completely nutters.”
“We are nutters,” Micaela cheered. “All the best people are.”
Olaf chuckled.
“Anyway, we should get moving,” said Micaela. “Don’t wait up for us.”
“You know it’s almost dark, right?” Olaf asked.
“Yep,” said Micaela, nodding once.
“Okay, just be safe. And if you get into trouble, don’t be afraid to ask for help,” Olaf said, giving Micaela a brief kiss on the forehead.
“I will, I promise,” Micaela stated, looking away from her husband to a blank spot in the room where Vision reappeared.
Olaf looked like he wanted to ask how she did that but instead shook his head. “See you soon, and good luck,” with that, Olaf moved back to the Colonel to start planning his next attack.
“Find one?” Micaela asked, looking to the pup.
“I think so, it looks like a Shaman spirit to me, but it is kind of far away,” Vision answered.
“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go,” said Micaela, following Vision out of the command center. She turned back briefly to wave goodbye to Olaf.
Vision led Micaela out of Hammerton and then west.
“How far are we going?” Micaela asked, chasing after Vision. They had been moving for almost two hours and the sun had set behind the mountains. The last bit of light was just about past and soon it would be completely dark with only the moon to guide them . . . and Micaela’s ‘Labyrinthian Sight’.
Labyrinthian Sight
Level: 29
Experience: 6.77%
Skill Effect (Passive): Passed down from the first Minotaur, who was born into the darkness of the Labyrinth, you have been blessed with the ability to easily see through the darkness. See up to 29-feet in absolute darkness. See up to 58-feet in low light.
“Not sure,” Vision said, his gaze fixed on something to the west. “But it is definitely a Shaman spirit.”
Micaela followed Vision all the way west, as far as they could go, right up to the edge of a large lake. Whatever fed the lake was too far away for her to see but from what she remembered from the 3D display in the command room, there was a river to both the north and south that flowed down the mountains.
“Now where?” Micaela asked, looking around at the expansive darkness.
“We keep going,” said Vision, touching a paw to the water and jerking back with a small yelp and quickly backing away.
“Don’t like water?” Micaela asked, trying not to laugh at the pup.
Vision shook his head side to side. “Not the water . . . something in the water.”
“Well that doesn’t sound good,” Micaela said. “Do you see a boat?”
“We should go back,” Vision said.
“Vision, this is important,” Micaela said. “If there is something in the water then we’ll beat it, together.”
Vision shivered one more time, before looking around. “I see a boat,” he said, padding along to the north, staying well clear of the water.
Micaela saw a boat dock first. It looked like it had seen better days but there was no boat roped to it. Instead, about ten feet from the lake was an overturned rowboat laying in the tall grass.
Thankfully, Micaela had more than enough strength to flip the boat over. It appeared to be in good repair, a little old maybe, but whole. Thankfully there was a pair of paddles under the boat, also old. The boat appeared to have been left that way intentionally. Hopefully, whoever left it that way wouldn’t mind if Micaela borrowed it for a little while.
“Are you sure about this, Boss?” Vision questioned as Micaela pushed the rowboat into the water.
“Yes, come on,” Micaela said, waving for the pup to join her in the boat.
Vision snorted once in annoyance then made a light jump, landing in the boat.
Micaela was glad to be a Minotaur and have the bonus to stamina the class gave her. Her gratitude was highlighted when she saw just how many SP rowing a boat drained with each stroke of the worn paddles. Did she mention how much the rough wood dug into her hands? “I’m going to have blisters at this rate,” she complained, then she saw the system notifications popping up, awarding her +3-Stamina and +2-Strength.
“It’s there,” said Vision, pointing with his snout, successfully distracting Micaela from the system messages and the little bit of irritation her hands were feeling.
Micaela tried to see whatever Vision was trying to point out. Unfortunately, it was still beyond Micaela’s sight range, but she followed Vision’s directions until a small island started coming into view. As she got closer, the only thing she could see was a single tree and what looked like a stone, maybe a gravestone, under it.
“If there was a zombie, it would have risen already, right?” Micaela asked swallowing thickly, given she was looking for a dead Shaman, a grave kind of made sense to her.
“I do not know,” Vision said.
Micaela paddled a few more times until the boat ran aground on the sandy beach of the island. Now that she was close, she saw the island was kind of picturesque with slightly overgrown grass and a solitary tree . . . and the grave. Ignoring the grave, it was very nice. She made a note to maybe drag Olaf out here for some private time . . . once the war was over, that is.
Vision eagerly hopped out of the boat and ran ahead, getting away from the beach and up on the grassy area.
Micaela laughed at the uncharacteristic skittishness, hopping out of the boat and looking for a rock or something to pin the rope at the front of the boat to. Then she felt a tug on the rope.
Frowning, Micaela pulled back on the rope. Suddenly she felt a much stronger jerking on the rope. Micaela tried to dig her feet in when the boat was lifted skyward. Her eyes were drawn to the fact that nothing she could see was holding the boat aloft.
“Let go, boss, hurry!” Vision shouted, growling loudly a moment later.
Micaela let go, and it was just in time. Not a moment later, the boat was crushed by an invisible force and flung out over the water, quickly disappearing into the darkness of the night. The only sign of how far, was the soft splash of water she heard in the distance. It left Micaela gaping as she scrambled backward away from the water.
“I told you the water was not safe,” Vision pouted, lowering his head and pouting. The wolf pup sat heavily on his haunches.
“What was that?” Micaela asked, looking between Vision and the water.
“A very angry spirit,” a disembodied voice answered with a thick Dwarven brogue.
If Micaela was not a Shaman, she might have thought that was a ghost and panicked. But she was a Shaman, that just happened to be looking for the ghost of a Shaman. “Okay, mister ghostly Shaman, let’s get this show on the road,” Micaela said, closing her eyes and easily making the transition from the mortal realm to the spirit realm.
When she opened her eyes again, there was a bearded face with a large nose less than an inch from her face. That would have been fine except that with the way he had his lips puckered up and how he was leaning in, it was clear he was going in. Micaela reacted naturally. She screeched, struck out with a closed fist then shot to her feet and backed away several steps. It was a Dwarf, more importantly, it was a Dwarf in spirit form.
Class Quest Alert: Spirit of the Shaman 1 – Completed!
Your need to increase your totem capacity has led you to an unorthodox solution. Seek out a wandering Shaman Spirit and see if you can find the answers you need.
Reward: +25,000-Experience
“Damn it, I was so close,” the Dwarf cried, he was now splayed out on h
is back, one hand nursing his cheek where Micaela had struck him only moments before.
Class Quest Alert: Spirit of the Shaman 2
You have found a wandering Shaman spirit. Convince him to join you.
Reward: Experience, Double Spirit Capacity.
Do you accept this Quest?
Yes
No
“I’m married, thank you very much,” Micaela snapped, folding her arms over her chest. She was very tempted to refuse the quest on principal. But . . . doubling her spirit capacity was just too tempting.
“And I am dead. What is your husband going to do? Kill me again?” the Dwarf retorted, climbing back to his feet. “I think not. Now, be a good lass and give me a proper kiss so that I can move on from this world into the afterlife.”
Micaela quirked a single eyebrow. “Let me get this straight. A kiss, from me, will help you move onto the afterlife?”
“Aye, lass, do a poor soul, such as myself, the honor and help me see my family again. They must have missed me so very much after so long,” the Dwarf said, wiping away a tear.
“Nope, sorry, I need you in this world,” Micaela said. Not only did she need his help, she had also seen the same thing far too many times in anime. It was an overused trope, funny, but overused.
The Dwarf clicked his tongue. “Well, it was worth a shot. But, considering we have eternity together now. I’m sure I will wear you down sooner or later,” he stated, grinning lecherously at Micaela.
“Never going to happen,” said Micaela, glaring at the Dwarf. “And what do you mean eternity?”
“Well, you are trapped here, same as I was . . . am . . . hmm,” he replied, stroking his beard contemplatively.
“You might be trapped, I’m not,” Micaela replied. “If I die to . . . whatever that was, I’ll come back at the closest graveyard. Then I can get an army to bring back here and deal with it.”
“Yeah, closest graveyard,” he repeated, pointing at the little stone marker. “Given my body has not come back as a zombie, I am guessing the ground is consecrated so . . . graveyard.”
“Why? Who?” Micaela asked loudly, her eyes wide and staring at the little grave.
“The who is a bit complicated but the why is very simple. Even my killer would not want to let my body be turned into a zombie,” the Dwarf stated firmly.
“But now I really am trapped here unless I can kill that thing,” Micaela stated angrily. She didn’t need to mention that at the end of the month she would be logged out and transported to Root City. It was an option, sure. But her husband would be very angry about it.
“Do not worry. A little time here, you will come to love it,” the Dwarf said, trying and failing to reassure her.
“A little time?” Micaela question. “Just how long do you consider a little time?”
The Dwarf shrugged, then answered, “I stopped counting after the first fifty years.” Then he leered again, looking Micaela up and down. “That said, I cannot tell you how happy I am you are a woman. I do not even care that you are a Minotaur. And you are a Shaman, talk about a bonus.”
Micaela narrowed her eyes at the Dwarf. “What an old perv,” she grumbled after a moment of glaring that was wholly ineffective. “Okay, Vision, do you see any way of avoiding that thing?” she asked, motioning toward the water.
Vision shook his head. “It is circling the island . . . very fast.”
“Yeah, old Percy has been guarding the island since I got trapped here,” the Dwarf replied.
“Percy?” Micaela questioned.
“Yeah, Percy. Why? My name for the nightmare beast not good enough for you?” he asked, growling as if angry only to soften right away. “I suppose we could use one of the other names I gave him. How does Steve strike you? Or maybe Puff-puff, you know, because it is all shadows and smoke? I thought that one was clever myself,” the Dwarf rambled.
“What is it?” Micaela asked, trying to refocus the crazy Dwarf.
“I told you, it is a nightmare beast, this one has been here since I stepped onto this island. Making sure I do not leave,” he explained.
“How do we kill it?” Micaela asked.
“Hah, kill it, you are funny,” the Dwarf barked out a fake laugh. “More importantly, I am detecting way too many clothes between you and me. What do you say we shed some layers and have a little fun?” the lecher tried again.
Micaela signed. “Vision, bite him between the legs.”
“Ick, that is yucky. Make Butch do it, he likes biting things,” Vision countered.
Butch chose that moment to emerge from his ax. “I will bite you if you suggest such a thing again. Boots, double heel kick,” Butch ordered.
Boots, the horse spirit that inhabited Micaela’s boots, emerged next. “Why do I need to be the one to kick him? What if he hits me back?”
Butch sighed. “Fine, Sundance, you can burn him there, right?”
Sundance emerged from Micaela’s other ax. “I suppose I could,” he said reluctantly.
“Whoa, whoa now, no need for that. Clothes can stay on. I am fine with a little friendly petting,” the Dwarf backed away, protecting his nether region with his hands.
“Ooh, petting?” Vision asked, his tail wagging excitedly.
“Not that kind of petting,” the Dwarf said, glowering at Vision.
“Awe, but I like petting,” Vision pouted.
“Anyway, you were saying something about not being able to kill the creature,” Micaela said, feeling powerful with her totems at her side.
The Dwarf’s eye twitched. “If that is really what you want, I cannot stop you. But, before you march to your death, want to tell me what brought you to this island?”
“I need a Shaman,” Micaela answered. “A Shaman spirit actually. I need to make a totem.”
“Uh huh, so you came to enslave me?” the Dwarf asked, suddenly looking rather sinister. Then the ominous feel was gone, and the Dwarf was blushing furiously, holding his hands to his cheeks. “Very well, I will become your love slave, just promise to be gentle with me.”
Micaela’s jaw dropped slightly. She couldn’t believe he just went there. After blinking in astonishment and disbelief she looked back to her totems and Vision. “I think we can do better. You all agree with me, right?”
“Yes,” the totems all stated.
“But I did not see any others nearby,” Vision complained.
Micaela rubbed her face in irritation.
The Dwarf though just started giggling. “You got spirit, lass, but you seem to have a death wish. Trying to fight a nightmare beast. Trying to enslave the spirit of another Shaman. Ha!” he laughed. “I will just be over there . . . watching you die. Come join me when you are ready. I will be happy to be a shoulder for you to cry on when you get your totems killed.”
That comment gave Micaela pause. “Vision, can you see the nightmare beast?”
“I see . . . something. It is dark and wrapped in shadows,” Vision answered.
“Can you see its level?” Micaela asked.
“No,” Vision answered slowly.
“What do you see?” Micaela asked.
“Um . . .
Micaela narrowed her eyes and glared at the water then shifted her glare toward the Dwarf. “Suck it up, Mic,” she said to herself. Almost stomping over to the Dwarf.
“You can come closer, I promise I will only bite the fun places,” the dirty reprobate stated.
“I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. I’m Micaela Crushhammer,” she stated, ignoring the biting comment and holding out a hand to the Dwarf. It disgusted her slightly to even try to be nice, but she needed a way off this island, and she had a strong feeling she wouldn’t be able to do it by herself.
“I am Palm du Anvil, first son of the Duke of Anvilton and heir to the Dukedom,” the Dwarf introduced himself, bowing slightly, taking Micaela’s offered hand and kissing the back of it.
Micaela recoiled upon hearing the in
troduction. She hadn’t really paid attention to the Dwarf’s appearance, especially not to the fact he was a Shale Dwarf. This was the Dwarf that betrayed Mardi and got her to give up her divinity? She studied his appearance a little closer, it was only now she saw the similarities between this Dwarf and Gras, same nose, same brow. The eyes were different at least, this Dwarf’s eyes looked half-insane, maybe more so.
“Ah, I see you have heard of me. Despite any rumors you may have heard, I promise, I am a very gentle lover,” Palm said, grinning in a way that Micaela assumed the man thought was dashing or roguish. Seeing Micaela wasn’t biting, he added, “Although, seeing as I am dead, and for who knows how many years. I would guess my brother, the traitorous bastard, is Duke by now. If he offed me, I am sure he had no issues with offing our parents as well.”
“Uh oh,” said Micaela staring at the spirit wide-eyed. “Your . . . brother?”
“Aye, my own brother,” Palm said sadly.
“Your brother,” Micaela repeated. “Like, your brother, brother?”
“Yes, my brother,” Palm repeated.
“Your brother? Are you sure?” she asked one more time, on the verge of a breakdown. If Gras killed his own brother . . . then that means that Gras is an enemy. An enemy that could be leading her husband and friends into a trap.
“Yes! My brother. Shrove du Anvil. Betrayed me. Trapped me and somehow called a bloody nightmare beast down on me!” Palm was yelling by the end and breathing heavily. Taking a moment to calm he spoke again, “Sorry, it has been years, but I guess I am still hung up on it. I mean, you are supposed to be able to trust family, right? Would you not be upset if your brother trapped you on an island and left you to die then did die only to end up trapped alone as a spirit for untold years? Is it really so wrong?”
Okay, so not Gras, that was good right? “I suppose I would be upset by that,” Micaela agreed.
“Too right you would,” Palm said, snorting in anger. As if suddenly realizing he wasn’t alone, “I am sorry, that was unbecoming of me.”
The Mountain Valley War Page 49
