Remembering how it felt to mold the ivory band on Ashera’s neck, Hal tried the same thing on the lock. With more mana at his disposal, he hoped it wouldn’t kill him.
To his surprise, the metal shaped and molded with surprising ease. There was only the slightest resistance as it tried to resume the shape it once was but it was nothing like the migraine-inducing struggle against the ivory band.
There was a soft metallic scraping as Hal opened the door, the deadbolt cleanly cut through and still half-embedded in the door jamb.
Your Mana Investiture has risen to Tier II.
+5% Mana Investiture speed (+5%).
Altres looked at him, then at the door. “It would seem I hitched my karak to the right cart.”
“I don’t follow,” Hal said.
“Just an expression. Lead on, my friend.”
The door opened into a dank cave, the smell of rot, water, and damp earth filled his nose. Against his better judgment, Hal left the torches where they burned. He could barely see in the dark but if somebody was after them, a torch would lead them straight to the pair.
Altres shut the door behind him and they crept through the dark cave. Hal could hardly see his own hand waving in front of his face.
Altres’ gently grasped Hal’s wrist and without a word began to guide him forward. The sound of running water echoed off the rough stony wall that Hal ran his hand across to steady himself.
They wandered through the twisting darkness for a while. Hal felt the presence of something else in the dark with them. From the way Altres’ grip tightened, Hal knew he felt it too. He was so keyed up that even the simple text notification nearly gave him a heart attack.
You have unlocked Darkvision (Level 0).
Through time spent in the dark, lightless depths, you have adapted your sight to be able to peel back the veil of darkness.
You have unlocked Stealth (Level 0).
Slow, measured movements and a preference for shadowy nooks have helped you take the first steps along the path of a true sneak. By moving with purpose and focusing on staying out of sight you can dramatically reduce the ability for others to detect your presence. Sneaking reduces your speed and drains Stamina.
Your Stealth has risen to Level 1.
+1% Stealth success (+1%).
+1% Stealth speed (+1%).
-1% SP drain (-1%).
Altres led them out, somehow avoiding whatever was in the dark with them. A thick line of tangled brush greeted them with the remains of the watery morning daylight.
Looking at the dark cavern behind, a trickling stream emptied out and to their right. The cave was set in a high wall of rock beneath the tall Sanctum walls above them and hidden by thick underbrush ahead.
Together, they parted the green border of leaves and left the dark cavern a world behind. The going was slow and filled with vines, brambles, and tangles that pulled at their dirty clothing every inch of the way.
Hal sighed in relief as they spilled out into a small clearing at the edge of a large forest, glad to be out of the tangling undergrowth. His surprise was complete when he looked up and realized that they had just crossed paths with half a dozen patrolling Sanctum guards.
As soon as the snapping of branches echoed in the clearing, the guards turned to them as one unit. The rasp of steel being drawn from their scabbards filled the green space.
It was a bitter twist of irony that he managed to escape the dungeon, the castle, and the Sanctum as a whole but still failed to get away.
Hal’s fingers tightened on the falchion in his hand. The chain fell free from the folds in his cloak he had been using to keep it silenced in the cave.
He had no idea how to use the things together, but he was going to try.
“I don’t plan on going back to a cell,” Hal said to Altres at his side, surprised at how even his voice was.
The lilac-eyed man drew his rusted and bent blade beside him. “I’m with you.”
Hal stood a little straighter. “Let’s get this over with.”
A man with a white sash across his green armor smiled thinly at him, obviously overhearing Hal. The leader, he guessed. “Good. Because I have no intention of putting any more of you back in your cages. You die here.”
9
Hal raised his falchion high with one hand and tightened his grip on the chains with the other. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight. With any luck, he’d take at least one of them to the grave with him.
The leader raised his gleaming sword in answer, ready to give the order for the guards to attack when he suddenly jerked in place.
His arm fell slack, followed shortly by the rest of his body, revealing half a dozen arrows that had sprouted from his back.
From the tree line behind the guards another volley arced through the air, cutting the Sanctum guards down before they had the time to realize what had happened.
Hal stood there, rooted to the spot. Running wouldn’t matter. Not from archer’s that could do that. A quick glance at the ground showed not a single stray arrow.
Instead, Hal lowered his falchion point-first into the grass and rested his hand atop the plain pommel. If they were going to kill him, they’d have done it already.
At his side, Altres followed suit by tossing his battered weapon to the grass. His lilac eyes were already set on the lead guard’s fine sword.
A grin lit up Hal’s face as he recognized the shapely figure in hunting leathers that stalked out of the forest and into the clearing of dead bodies. She said nothing to Hal as she examined the bodies, making sure they were truly dead.
One of the guards twitched. Elora straddled his fallen form, grabbed a fistful of his hair, and took out a wicked hunting knife that was closer to a shortsword. She slit his throat from ear to ear in one smooth, emotionless motion.
He gurgled a moment, then went silent. Hal felt a stab of sympathy that he quickly tamped down. That man would have gleefully gutted him just a moment ago.
“Friends of yours?” Altres whispered.
“Hopefully,” Hal replied.
Having found the rest of the guards quite dead, Elora stuck two fingers into her mouth and let out a shrill blast of a whistle. Three long notes, and one short.
Ten hunters, all with similar outfits to Elora stepped out, bows unslung but held casually in their clearly capable hands. Hal looked at them with a little bit of longing.
He was reminded of the Skyrim joke, no matter what you start as you always ended up as a stealth archer. It was just too good, too alluring. From seeing their efficacy firsthand, he could feel that familiar call to be a sneaky, subtle Thief.
As far as he still knew, it was the only Class he had gained any affinity with.
Hal was about to say something when the hunters at Elora’s back stepped aside and Ashera walked into the clearing. Her eyes glanced at the hunters, Elora, the bodies, and finally, they settled on Hal with a look of obvious relief.
The same look mirrored on Elora’s face.
She hurried towards Hal. “I’m so glad we got here in time! Are you hurt? How did you get out? We were coming to rescue you!” Ashera was breathless by the time she put her arms around Hal and crushed him against her.
Elora cleared her throat.
“Oh don’t be so glum, Elora!” Ashera let go of Hal and nudged the woman. “You were so worried about him you wouldn’t sit still for even a few Rangers to answer the call.” Ashera turned back to Hal. “News has already spread that there’s a massive riot from the prison, was that you?”
Hal rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “Yeah, kinda.”
“A few Rangers snuck in to the prison grounds and were trying to set a diversion,” Elora explained. “But by the time the guards were scrambling about enough that we could slip in to find you, we heard about the riot and thought it better to lend our support to maximize the chaos. Angram said he saw you run into the castle with your friend there.”
With a nod, Hal motioned to Altres. “T
his is Altres, we broke out together.”
The lean man extended his hand to Elora, who merely looked at it. Without missing a beat, he pivoted to offer it to Ashera, who shook it with a smile. “Altres… the songwriter?” she asked, recognition dawning on her fair features.
Sweeping into an elegant bow fit for a courtroom, Altres said, “One and the same. I take it you have heard of me?”
“Only that your works were banned for inciting treasonous activities against the Founder,” Ashera said with a smirk. “I thought you were run out of Sanctum-Fallwreath?”
“Yes,” Altres said, a grimace twisting his handsome features despite the dirt and grime. “It would seem that was the plan. I was thrown in a dungeon and without dear Hal here, I would have likely wasted away without any of my legions of dying fans knowing any better!” He struck a dramatic pose, flinging a forearm over his face.
Elora quirked a brow at him. She looked to Hal questioningly.
“I trust him,” Hal said, answering the unspoken question.
“Good enough for me,” Elora said. “We leave immediately, there will be more guards coming.”
“I always thought there was a secret way into the castle,” Ashera said. “I had seen some of the Founder’s personal guards simply disappear and come back without ever seeing them enter the main hall.”
Elora made a motion with her hand and the Rangers came forward, dragging each of the bodies away into the trees. When she caught Hal watching, she smirked. “Nobody will find them and the Rangers will add their armaments to the stockpile.”
“What stockpile?” Hal asked.
“You’ll see,” Ashera said with a grin.
“Might I procure that measly little trinket the talkative one had?” Altres said, downplaying the hunger in his lilac eyes. “I have some small skill with the more refined blades such as that.”
Elora looked at it, then at him. “We’ll find you something suitable.”
“Oh very well,” Altres said with a dramatic sigh. He flung his forearm over his eyes. “I suppose my bent and battered sword is more fitting for a disgraced Bard. Woe is me!”
When nobody said anything in reply, he peeked out from under his arm. Only then did he notice that nobody but Hal was paying him any attention. He met Hal’s grin with a look that said “what can you do?” and shook his head.
“Now that we’re out of the Sanctum, there’s a lot to tell you but we need to get out of here and find somewhere safe,” Ashera said.
Elora looked to the sky. It was leaden gray and overcast. “I think we’ll be safe from any Manastorms tonight, we’re still quite close to the Sanctum. Let’s go.”
Hal looked up with her. To him, it looked like it was about to rain in the next minute but he kept his mouth shut and followed behind her.
* * *
Elora and Ashera flanked Hal through the darkness of the forest, as much to talk to him as to make sure he didn’t fall and break his neck. It was a real concern since he seemed to be the only person with poor Darkvision.
Up ahead, Altres was introducing himself to the various Rangers that flitted in and out of the dark green maze that spread before them. Every time Hal looked up, Altres was talking to a different leather-clad man or woman.
It didn’t take long for another prompt to materialize.
Your Darkvision has risen to Level 1.
+2% Visual range in dim light (+2%).
+1% Visual range in no light (+1%).
Roots and coiled vines materialized in shades of gray against a velvety black backdrop of deep forest gloom. It was still pathetically short, hardly more than a few feet but he had to admit it was still a large improvement.
“You realize how crazy that sounds, right?” Hal asked. It hadn’t been the first time he’d said that and it would certainly not be the last.
“Look at what you’ve done when you were pressed into a corner,” Ashera pointed out. “You caused a riot, broke out of an impenetrable fortress, and fled a Sanctum under lockdown. Like it or not, people are going to start following you whether you want them to or not. Wouldn’t you rather have a place that was warm and safe for them?”
It was a constant refrain from her the last couple of hours.
Where was the meek, quiet girl that had visited him in his cell? She was nearly as bad as Elora with all her talk about Hal’s duty to the people.
This wasn’t his home, and these people were not his. He wasn’t in Seattle with air conditioning, electricity, and all the modern conveniences he had grown used to.
He wanted a return to normalcy. Hal wanted to go home.
Unfortunately, both Elora and Ashera seemed to selectively ignore his desires to return home and instead bulled ahead with a ridiculous plan to prop him up as some sort of figurehead.
Something he wanted no part in. Not that they listened to his objections. Though the not dying part of being a Founder with a Manatree did have a nice ring to it.
After hours of stumbling about in the dark, Elora called for a break. Hal couldn’t tell how far they’d walked but the trees had grown oppressively close and every ten feet they had to swerve around one trunk or another.
At least Hal did. Everybody else walked as easily as if they were strolling down the street. For Hal, everything reared up out of the dark suddenly. Without Ashera and Elora guiding him, he would have walked right into every tree for the last mile.
The ground was littered with thick stony cables of roots that tried to trip him with every step. “We’ll break here for the night,” Elora said. She pointed to something beyond his Darkvision - Rangers probably. “Yesel and Eindor, take first watch. Myla, help me set up camp.”
Hal sat down on a particularly large root away from the group. He finally went through the impressive backlog of notifications since he had been given no task and didn’t have the first idea how to help.
So he did what came naturally to him. He stayed out of everybody’s way and reviewed the notifications he received so far.
It was amazing that such a thing existed. Such a wealth of information at his fingertips.
Hal looked over his stats, wondering how long it would take him to get them all up to 5. Having a firm foundation, at least enough to equal a normal functioning adult, was his first priority.
He definitely did not want to sound like the village idiot ever again. Just remembering the way he struggled with the most simplistic of sentence structures made him cringe.
Good thing that was before I met anybody that I’m with now. Elora doesn’t count, she couldn’t understand me when I talked like an idiot at her. My conversation with Ashera would have had a lot less impact if I instead said, “Cow girl sad why?” Or worse, “Moo!”
Another shudder crawled up his spine. At least he could do something about it. How many years of speech therapy would it take to overcome that back home?
He was, by his own estimation, already stronger and more dexterous than he was before coming to this place.
When playing MMORPGs, he used to scrutinize every little decision he made. Every point spent was planned out ahead of time.
Faced with the reality of being that character, Hal had no idea what he wanted to do.
He had barely gotten a taste for combat and the very real threat of death stopped it from being a carefree romp murdering weak little rats or whatever low-level monsters most gamers cut their teeth on.
And for once, Hal didn’t delight in the idea of being a full-blown murderhobo.
Being a Fighter or Paladin of some kind had always appealed to Hal but he had no idea how the mechanics worked in this world.
What if he pumped VIT to get a huge pool of HP, only to realize armor would be far more effective and he should have balanced himself out more?
It was easy when he could reload a previous save and alter his stat points or when everybody worked together on the forums and-
“What’re you doing all by yourself?” Ashera asked, interrupting his thoughts and sitting down ne
xt to him. She gave him a shy smile. Her interruption came at the most opportune moment.
He had always used guilds, friends, forums, discussion chats, and in-game theory crafting to get detailed information for obscure game mechanics.
Why was he suddenly doing away with that and taking this “game” at face value? There were several people he could ask about stats and how things worked right in front of him.
The truth was, he thought of them a bit like NPCs sometimes and he had no idea if that was the right way of things or not. Was he just another player or were they somehow lesser?
Let’s unpack that tangled knot of morality another time, shall we?
“This might be a stupid question, but do you… understand the stats?” he asked.
There was no telling how Ashera might react. The world might not treat everybody equally. Maybe it was only Hal, as an outsider, that had stats and the game-like interface. If she had no idea what he was talking about, he’d let it go before he started to sound insane.
I’d definitely avoid some guy who sat down next to me on a bus bench and started rambling about his strength and dexterity scores.
Ashera watched him a moment before answering. “Everybody does,” she confirmed. Hal breathed a sigh of relief. “Do you not have them where you come from?”
He shook his head. “Not really, no. Most people walk around without ever being able to quantify their fitness or their intelligence. Whole business empires are built on the faint capacity to judge and rank people in a way that is discernible. Everybody kind of wants what you guys have here, even if they won’t admit it.”
Ashera’s brow crumpled. “How horribly sad.”
“Tell me about it.”
10
He was finally getting somewhere productive. “Ashera, could you give me a real brief run-down on the main attributes? I think I have a grasp on everything but I want to be sure.”
Beastborne- Mark of the Founder Page 10
