Trusting to Elora’s keen sense of direction, they backtracked to the smuggling tunnels the rest of them had used to get into Murkmire.
When they returned to the Bouldergut camp, the industrious dwarves were already packing up everything onto large wooden wagons shaped like little houses. They even had a pair of windows on each side and a sloped shingled roof.
Hal expected to find horses or oxen that would pull the carts. What he saw instead were large intelligent-looking birds with a variety of plumage from yellow to black. Their large, slightly scooped beaks gave them the appearance of a coy smile.
“What… are those?” Hal asked.
“Karaks,” Elora answered. “Though I’ve never been this close to one before.” She moved in hesitantly to a red feathered karak. It regarded her curiously at first but when she gingerly bowed to it, the bird returned the gesture and then disregarded her entirely.
Elora approached it and gently brushed her hand over its thick feathers. “They’re so soft!” She sounded like a little girl with so much wonder and joy in her voice.
I bet she would’ve been really into horses on Earth, Hal thought. There was always one person that was deeply into horses in every group.
“Aye,” Durvin said, patting one of the karaks on the leg since he couldn’t reach up to the six-foot-high rump of the bird. “Sturdy creatures. Can haul more than any other beast that don’t bite ya back. And smart as a whip too, bet they even understand what we’re talkin’ about right now!”
One of them was watching Hal, almost as if it were daring him to doubt Durvin’s claim. Hal decided to keep his mouth shut just in case the creature could understand him.
They were about to embark on a long journey with the birds. He didn’t want to get on their bad side.
“That’s amazing,” he said, looking over the creatures. “Do we really need so many wagons though?”
Durvin raised a bronze brow at him. “Ye thinkin’ about walking the whole durned way? I ain’t got yer legs, boy! A dwarf can get up to good speed once we get movin’ but there ain’t no need fer it if ye got some karaks! They’ll make the journey in half the time, even pullin’ all us along.”
Hal was beginning to understand. Not once did the financially conscientious dwarf mention anything about how much it cost to get them though. That made Hal more than a little worried.
“How much did they cost?” Hal asked, suddenly doubting the wisdom in giving Durvin their entire purse to get the list of supplies they had agreed upon.
“Well, about that,” Durvin said, looking at the birds with pride. “Think of ‘em as an investment.”
“If they survive the trip.”
“Well o’ course! A karak is twice as likely to survive the trip as a horse or a common beast. They’ll keep for years to come! Dagdamora, boy, yer as bad as Ferras with yer pursestrings! I got yer durned supplies, didn’t I? Ye wanna be ranging the wilds for months or do ye want to get this done with quick-like?”
Hal pinched the bridge of his nose. “How much were they, Durvin?”
“Sandstone! Fine, boy. Ye wanna know so bad? They were five thousand.”
“Each?”
“O’ course, each! They’re fine animals. Finest around.” Durvin’s voice dropped to a mumble but Hal could still hear it. “Always wanted a karak of me own.”
With ten wagons, each pulled by a single karak that sent them back 50,000 sparks. That was nearly half of what he gave Durvin for all of the supplies. And he didn’t mention how much the very opulent looking wagons cost either.
The only thing that gave Hal a bit of comfort was that Durvin said he did get the supplies. That was the important thing. If they didn’t have any sparks leftover that was okay.
We could always make a detour to a monster’s nest to make some more.
109
With their list of contacts, the dwarves were able to get every last item on Hal’s list. They even added a few things he didn’t even think of. Hal was right though, they hardly had two sparks to rub together when the final tally came in.
But it turned out that the Boulderguts had chipped in a considerable amount for the wagons as well.
In the end, Hal realized it didn’t matter. They had everything they set out for. All the supplies that the rebels had stockpiled were gone, but they were replaced with over five dozen sturdy dwarves and likely better tools and materials.
They were in an even better position to start a Sanctum than if they had come to Murkmire and left with the supplies immediately. Hal was much stronger after the Contract as well. And all it took was a rough week of setbacks and the loss of a new friend.
He couldn’t get the image of the photo out of his mind. Thirty-seven was Hal’s age in that image. If Giel remembered him, he would have known that Hal was the spitting image of the man. It was little wonder that he kept staring at him.
How come he never said anything? He somehow felt worse for Giel’s loss because of that photo. Did the lamora trust Hal because he looked like Thirty-seven? There were so many questions and nobody to answer them.
In typical dwarven fashion, their last meal at the Bouldergut camp was a feast. Roast beef, ribs slathered in smoky red sauce, thick cuts of flame-kissed steak with roasted potatoes and melted butter. And, of course, no feast was complete without dwarven “holy water.”
Every tankard overflowed that night.
Durvin would often laugh and nudge Hal a little too hard in the ribs, saying, “Drink up, boy! We’ll make the trek even faster if’n we lighten the load by downin’ all these kegs o’ holy water!”
And so they drank, and feasted, and had one final night of frivolity and celebration before the dangerous journey would begin the next morning.
They toasted to Giel. To Alquist. To the Rangers, the dwarves, the koblins, and of course each other. By the time they were done, there wasn’t a blade of grass for a mile around that wasn’t recognized or honored in one toast or another
Everything was a blur to Hal. He couldn’t ever remember a time he felt so free, so optimistic about the future. Surrounded by good friends, and embarking on a quest to make a home in Aldim, Hal could not have been more hopeful.
That night he slept without a care in the world. And if the morning came too soon and too loud for his taste, he suffered it all with a smile because he knew the truth of it all.
This was his family. Mingled races and different creeds but one family.
“Up we go,” Hal said as he hoisted Vorax up into the rear of their wagon. “You’ll be safe here to take a nice long nap. Won’t be much need for walking.”
The mimic imparted its trust in Hal and that it rather liked being stacked with the various crates. It felt cozy to the creature. Not too much different than a soft bed and a thick comforter was to Hal. It was so early it was still dark out. Everybody agreed it would be best to be gone before the sun rose. Just in case.
“You have befriended a mimic,” Luda said from behind him. “You are full of surprises.”
Hal’s heart skipped a beat and he turned around to regard the girl who seemed to just appear wherever she pleased.
She was dressed in clean, presentable clothes and wore a white wide-brimmed sun hat. Though the colors and designs of everything but her hat were obviously dwarven with their somber colors and geometric patterns.
Luda blushed. “I apologize. I did not mean to startle you. And I will say nothing about the mimic. He has a kind soul, and I can tell he poses no threat to us.”
Hal cocked an eyebrow at that.
It wasn’t like he didn’t already know Vorax wasn’t a typical monster but it still felt good to have another’s opinion echo his own. “It’s all right, Luda. What can I do for you? It hadn’t escaped my notice that while we’ve been preparing to leave you’ve been keeping your distance.”
“Just so,” she said with a nod. “I could sense how much this meant to you and I did not wish to be an extra burden. Now that things appear to be in motion, I wondere
d if I could trouble you with a simple request?”
Hal leaned against the back of the wagon. “Let’s hear it.”
“I would appreciate it if I could stay with your group. While we ride and during resting. I am not asking to accompany you beyond the safety of the caravan but I would… feel better if I was in the company of those you trusted most.”
“Did something happen?” Hal asked, coming away from the wagon. “Did somebody say or do something threatening or suspicious?”
“No, no,” Luda said, shaking her long red curls. “Nothing like that. I have nothing against the dwarves. It is only a personal request. And I will do my utmost to contribute and stay out of your way if that is your wish.”
Hal looked over his shoulder at their wagon. They were marvels of engineering with six metal-rimmed wagon wheels and flooring that pulled up to reveal a large cargo space.
Practically an apartment on wheels, each wagon had fold-down beds along the walls, separated into two main rooms. One for sleeping and a common area for eating with a bolted-down table.
Hal’s group wouldn’t be too badly pressed for space. The wagons were huge after all. Even crammed together in one wagon, they could ride most of the way which would still be faster than any other method. “Of course you can stay with us,” Hal answered.
Luda closed the few feet between them and practically tackled him around the middle in a tight hug. As light and small as she was, the force of her sudden impact still moved Hal a few inches along the slick dewy grass.
Hal placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “I know I’ve been busy lately but if you ever need to talk….”
Luda quickly released her grip, brushed the moisture from her bright crystalline-blue eyes, and nodded. “I’d like that. It… can be lonely sometimes.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Hal said, trying to give her a reassuring smile.
He didn’t know much about her past. Truthfully, he was too busy lately to spare a thought for the poor girl. But the way everybody treated her, like she was this holy relic that the slightest breeze might break, must be isolating. She was still just a young girl, couldn’t be older than fourteen or fifteen.
“Are we… friends?” she asked with such uncertainty that it could have broken even the hardest dwarven heart in two.
“Of course we are,” Hal said as if that was obvious. “I wouldn’t let somebody who wasn’t my friend ride with me on a road trip.”
“What’s a road trip?”
Hal chuckled. “Never mind, just an old saying from my home. Go put your things into the wagon.” He hiked a thumb over his shoulder at it. “This’ll be your home for the next month.”
As Hal went to finish packing, he imparted a request to Vorax. Watch her for me, will you? Let me know if she tries to do something suspicious or if somebody tries to hurt her.
Vorax was confused by the duality of the statement at first but eventually, the mimic understood what Hal wanted.
The rest of the packing went by in a stream of tiny problems and various last-minute issues that nobody thought of. Ten of the Bouldergut Clan were not coming along, nine of them ended up volunteering to go with Ferras back to Anvil.
Those ten would return to Murkmire and wait with more of their trusted and willing clansmen until Durvin and Hal swung back to pick them up after the Sanctum was underway. That brought the total number of the Bouldergut Clan that would be accompanying Hal to nearly six dozen.
Each wagon could comfortably sit half a dozen people, ten if they crammed people in and a dozen if a couple of people didn’t mind sleeping on the floor.
With Luda and her half dozen joining Hal’s group, there wasn’t much room to go around in all the wagons but it was manageable.
They were making their way down the hillside an hour or two before dawn. Durvin was right about one thing, the karaks were remarkably strong and sure creatures. Each of the wagons when fully loaded with people and supplies had to weigh an astronomical amount. And each was pulled by a single karak.
The birds took it all in stride. Their complicated harnesses that jingled every so often seemed more at risk to snap under all that tension than the creatures did. In the end, they had no trouble making a slow snaking path down the hill.
Once the caravan got underway, the karaks picked up speed. Sooner than Hal would have liked, the sight of Murkmire began to fade into the distance.
He felt a strange pang of loss. Not only for the koblins and Altres but also for Rondo and the somehow familiar sight of the town. For Qalmor and the Adventurer’s Guild.
And of course, for Giel.
Through Thirty-seven’s dream walking Hal had come to know Murkmire like a second home. Streets he never personally visited he could map out and walk in his mind’s eye.
So as the weathered mountain Sanctuary of Murkmire began to grow hazy and indistinct, Hal opened the rear door of the wagon and sat to watch it disappear. It felt important.
Throughout the initial hours of their journey, everybody was on high alert for something to go wrong. Whether Qalmor let something slip, or the koblins or Rondo, there were simply too many possibilities for things to go wrong.
“I guess you were right, Mira,” Hal said to the elf standing beside him as he watched the rolling hills around Murkmire fade into the distance as well. A few hours and they would put Murkmire far behind them.
“Yeah of course I was.” She nudged his hip with her ankle. “Scoot.” Mira sat down beside him and watched the dark countryside roll along with him. “Right about what though?”
“Rondo,” Hal said, motioning to the clear view of grassland with the occasional copse of trees. “If he betrayed us, I’m pretty sure we’d be followed if not outrightly attacked by now.”
“Of course I didn’t betray you!” came a muffled voice from below the floorboards.
“Pssskosh, cease tongue-flaps tiny one! The Hal-savior will hear!”
“Oh, no.” Hal looked at Mira. The elf’s eyes were far too wide and innocent not to have played a role in this. “No. No, no, no, no.” Hal lifted his voice to call to the driver up front. “Stop the wagon!”
Seeing their wagon slow then stop, the other wagons halted alongside it forming a protective ring. Hal waved them on, assuring them nothing was wrong. But they all waited and watched just to be sure.
Hal pulled up the boards to find a small cushioned nook in the cargo space between two large barrels and a crate right next to Vorax. You too? Hal imparted to the mimic.
To which Vorax replied that it had followed Hal’s instruction.
Nothing was suspicious about Luda and nobody tried to hurt her. Koblins acting… koblin-y was not such an odd thing and the mimic didn’t presume to understand the people-races so it didn’t judge Rondo’s attempt to stowaway.
Successful attempt, Hal reminded himself.
Four koblins had stowed away with the gnome and they looked up from the dark confines at him. If Hal could see their faces, he knew they would have the same sheepish grin the gnome had.
“For flork’s sake.” Hal sighed and pinched his nose.
They could turn back but what would be the point? Like as not, more koblins would find a way to sneak aboard.
“Mira?” Hal asked the gnome.
He shook his head. Hal’s brow furrowed. “Who?”
The gnome raised a shaky finger and pointed directly at the Reaper.
Noth looked anywhere but at Hal.
With one final sigh, Hal said, “All right, get out of there. Is there anybody else stowing away? No? That’s some kind of miracle then.” Hal motioned vaguely at the wagon’s cozy interior. “Might as well make yourselves at home.”
Less than ten minutes later they were on the move again with five more members. Hal couldn’t stay mad though, not with their latest stowaway, Lootlox, clinging to his arm and squealing with joy. If this was the only problem that cropped up along the journey, he’d happily accept the stowaways and count his lucky stars.
&nb
sp; The sky began to lighten as Hal took his seat once more at the rear of the wagon’s open door. This time, Ashera came to join him. She smiled at him and together they watched the sun crest the distant eastern horizon.
It was glorious. The shades of purples and blues in the sky were swept away like curtains of fog to reveal gleaming golds, riveting reds, and radiant oranges.
The band high above their heads shifted through each of the colors and took on the appearance of a slowly fading rainbow consisting of only reds, blues, oranges, and purples.
The colors were more vivid than anything he ever experienced on Earth.
“One last sunrise, huh?” Hal said with a smirk at Ashera. He couldn't help but remember thinking way back to when he was imprisoned that it wouldn't be so bad to see one last sunrise.
The Sin Keeper smiled warmly back at him. “I did say they were beautiful, did I not?”
He knew, deep in his soul, that this would be the first of many sunrises to come.
Afterword
Thank you so much for reading Beastborne: Mark of the Founder! This is the first book (of many) in the Beastborne series. As my first novel in the LitRPG genre, I’m very touched that you read all the way through.
I hope that, with your support, I’ll be able to continue writing novels like this for a very long time. If you enjoyed reading Beastborne, please leave a review and rating to let others know what you thought!
As a new indie author, it helps me immensely and is one more step along the road to becoming a full-time author.
Beastborne started its life as a web serial and as a result, the book is ridiculously long. In my eyes that just means more value for you, the reader!
I’ve adapted a lot of my most beloved inspirations to shape Beastborne into what it is. There’s a bit of Final Fantasy’s Blue Mage mixed in with Bloodborne, Dungeons & Dragons, Lovecraftian horror, and a host of other little things that I hope makes it as enjoyable to read as it was to design and write!
Hal’s adventures don’t stop here though! I’ve already written nearly another 100 chapters over on my Patreon for the second book of Beastborne.
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