The Emissary Bard (World Of Chains Book 3)

by Lars M.

  Silence fell over the square as the villagers tried to wrap their minds around how that fit with my earlier words about perseverance. "I will not claim that I have any answers, or try to sell our task as one of vengeance to heat the blood. For all we know, the attackers may decide that the cost is too steep and avoid you forever. However, I do know that this is the first time we have had a chance to find and dismantle this villainous group forever. Should you want to be a part of that, please come talk with me afterwards. The Council will help outfit you, but we will only accept those who are trained in combat."

  With those words, I jumped from the stage. There was no applause this time, but everybody started talking among themselves as one. I walked back to Darya, who met me with a smile.

  "Sooo?" I inquired.

  "You did good." She kissed me, thoroughly, right there in the middle of everybody, and catcalls and whistles surrounded us. Darya held my face in her hand, looking down at me intently. "I mean it. You reminded them why they, as a group, are amazing. You gave them hope." The gleam in her eyes betrayed her teasing as she continued. "You may want to practice your dismount, though. If you were planning to convince everybody to join us, you failed horribly."

  "You already know that wasn't my plan. I want them to go into this with open eyes. If that means we're not as many when we go, so be it. Rather have that and fail than having a bunch of people killed because I talked them into something they weren't prepared for."

  She punched my shoulder. "See? That's how I know you weren't the self-centered ass I first thought you were. Let's get something to eat."

  It seemed the system agreed with Darya. My performing skill had increased to hit the Apprentice level.

  Congratulations. You have reached the apprentice level with your skill:

  Performing

  You have reached a basic level of understanding of the art of performing. From now on, any skill checks related to your performances will be made with a +3 modifier.

  The notification felt off. Quaint, somehow. I should have been pleased with it, but in the current situation, it just felt like it belonged to a more peaceful time. The quest update was equally unsurprising.

  Congratulations. You have completed the quest:

  How the Crossing Came to Be (Chronicler Quest)

  You have gathered the stories of all four founders of Grant’s Crossing and shared them with the village on Reveler’s Moon.

  Reward:

  +2 Chronicler skill

  I shook my head and got to work.

  Even with my warnings, though, plenty of people wanted to join us in our attack. They came trickling in by ones or twos, asking to form part of our group. Some wanted justice and to help in securing the future of Grant's Crossing. Others wanted revenge. Some simply wanted to be a part of the moment. That last group we turned down, but the rest of them we vetted for combat experience before telling them to approach Autoria for equipment. Anybody with too low levels and no combat skills, we instead asked to help by crafting supplies for our trip, rebuilding the palisade, and just general busywork.

  The rest of the day was busy, although my level of actual physical exertion was non-existent. I mostly sat at a table and talked. We had so many decisions to make, and I was not the right person to make most of them. To my relief, there was no limit to those who offered their help, and we ended up delegating a significant portion of the tasks to more capable people. Autoria arranged for the equipment of the citizens who were joining us and made sure we would have ample provisions. Darya insisted upon handling the preparations and necessities for staying in the forest. Lyle took it upon himself to gather and repair all equipment for anybody who wanted to join, burying himself in work. Atlas... enjoyed the sun.

  Chapter 36 – World Of Chains? Mo’ Like World Of Trekking

  The party that left for the woods early the following day was a diverse one. Some of them were no surprise. Lyle's dad joining in, in an attempt to protect his kid on a dangerous outing, for instance. Or Hagren, the half-orc who handled the raft crossing the Jagged Rush, who wanted revenge for almost dying in the fire in the Harbormaster's house. Others, I would never have seen coming. Kiff, for instance. While he claimed he just wanted to help the city, I suspected that he was just looking for a decent scrap and some loot - but I didn't complain. His stats were better than Lyle's, even if his equipment was lacking. Heh… or Lyle's mom. His dad had been hogging the spotlight in my knowledge of their home so much, I'd never even learned that she was a hunter, and a talented one at that. Darya managed to talk Naevys into joining, and Benneth invited himself. The trio of troublemakers from the kobolds, Morak and his goons, also joined to avenge themselves for their dead. One final volunteer caused a bit of trouble, however.

  "You're not going, and that's final."

  "I ain’t staying, Da. It's my decision. We're takin’ 'em down."

  I stared down on Gillem, who was glaring into the acne-infected face of a defiant Jebediah. Both wore matching postures, arms crossed and faces set into stubborn grimaces.

  Exasperated, Gillem turned to me. "Back me up here, Arcangelo. You're not going to take my kid into war."

  I closed Jebediah's character sheet, uncertain. "Gillem... let's have a chat."

  I dragged the halfling to the other side of the tavern. His face was like thunder, but he didn't say anything.

  I put my hand on his shoulder. "Okay, my friend. Do you want my honest opinion?"

  He brushed off the hand. "No. I want you to go over there and tell my son that he can't go out and risk his life for nothing."

  "I'm not doing that." I spoke over his stunned look. "Gillem, you're my friend and I love you. But the kid's an adult now. Not only that, he's become a summoner and is not entirely unskilled. I don't know how that happened, but it's true." His 19 years of age surprised me, but not as much as realizing he was a level 3 summoner with decent magic skills.

  Gillem looked unsure of himself. "I knew he was spending time with Autoria, but I didn't know he was that set on it."

  "I get it. And honestly, Gillem, if you insist on it, I will turn him down. But you're going to listen to me first." I waited for his grudging nod before continuing, "There are a couple of things to this. First, he has heard stories all his life about how his dad went adventuring at a young age - and now you're going to deny him the same possibility?"

  "That's not the same! Not at-"

  "Let me finish. Please. Second, you and I both know that he's never shown any interest in any profession, and now that he does, you want to say he can't use it? That sounds like a good way to make him despise you. Finally, we could use his help. This isn't something I say to talk you into anything, but he's a summoner, and we're woefully short on spellcasters. Besides, with his summons, we can keep him as far away from danger as possible."

  Gillem hung his head. "You're really making me approve of this?"

  I put my hand back on his shoulder and smiled at him. "No. I am going to keep it up until you think it through, however."

  He kicked a chair and watched it clatter across the floor. "Give us a minute."

  Gillem walked over to his kid and I watched from the other side of the room. Soon, Jebediah's defensive posture opened up, and he gestured, more animated than I had ever seen him. Soon, he embraced his father, and I enjoyed watching the surprised look on Gillem's face turning to joy.

  When he approached me again, I might have seen a tiny bit of liquid in the corner of his eyes, but I sure wasn't going to mention anything. "Arcangelo, I... keep him safe. That's all I ask."

  "You could come along? Keep an eye out for him? I'm sure The Law could assure his safety." I nodded at the massive club hanging on the wall.

  "I want to... I really do. They need me here, though... and I believe the kid - Jebediah - needs to do this for himself, too. Just protect him, please."

  You have been offered a quest:

  Bring Him Back

  Gillem Drizzlefog has requested that you keep his son
safe during the attack and bring him back unharmed.

  Reward:

  Unknown

  Penalty for failure:

  -5000 reputation with Gillem

  Accept/Decline?

  Inwardly, I groaned. Now I had to take care of two teenagers. This was starting to feel more and more like an advanced escort quest. At least they could defend themselves.

  All told, we ended up with a group of 14 people, all eager to leave. The only spellcasters were myself, Jebediah and Naevys, but we were very well covered when it came to hunting expertise and close combat.

  The day that followed summoned memories of the exhausting march from High Hold. We had received excellent trail rations from Gillem, granting a +3 to Endurance and Autoria had volunteered a handful of long-lasting vials of Stamina regeneration. They should prove enough to last the entire trip and keep us at a good pace. Of course, this only meant that we increased the speed to match our newfound limits. Yet again, Arack and I found ourselves as the ones to lag behind. Jebediah, to my surprise, had invested in both Agility and Endurance. Though he was flagging at the end of the day, he was nowhere near as exhausted as the tiny kobold and myself.

  We pushed ourselves hard and wasted no time on anything extraneous. Food was cold trail rations, and our downtime was limited to short breaks and the time it took to spread our bed rolls on the ground. Fortunately, Darya's Scout buffs did provide better rest than we could otherwise have expected, or we would have been the walking dead. I insisted on spending time on one thing, however.

  "One hour a day? That's just stupid. You a traitor? Want to let them get away?" Benneth was in my face, growling. By now, I knew that he was all growl and no bite, but his breath was still a horrible experience up close. Everybody else was observing our exchange, taking their break in silence.

  "Calling me a traitor, Benneth? Really? Remember who got you out of trouble... Besides, I'm not asking. I'm telling you. We need to train how to work together. If we arrive and are flung into battle, we need to at least know who does what, and who calls the shots. We've got maybe five days until we get there. An hour a day is a minimum, or we'll get ourselves slaughtered."

  The brawny catfolk didn't back down, however. "Pfah. Shows how much you know. We all know how to fight here, except for the tiny squirt there, and he gets to keep his distance while the grownups handle matters."

  A mocking laughter arose next to us. "Gods, you're full of it, Benneth." Lyle's mother, Claire, rose to stare imperiously at the large catfolk. Her small, wiry figure, coupled with her long, frizzled red-blond hair ought to have made it hard to look imperious, but she pulled it off.

  "What do you know, woman?"

  "I know that Arcangelo is right here. I know that we'll need to, at the very least, divide into different groups. Two, maybe three. We'll also need to have leaders for each group. Each single person making a decision for themselves without control and an overall plan is a recipe for disaster. Finally, I know that you would make a horrible leader, and I would prefer to take Jebediah into battle over you; at least he is likely to obey my orders." I was relieved to not find myself at the other end of that steely glare.

  Turns out Claire had a past as a leader of one of the caravan guards. She'd seen her share of encounters and knew how to handle herself. Together, we were able to browbeat the unruly hunter into agreement. That night, we divided into three groups.

  Lyle, Lyle’s father, Kiff, Morak, and Hagren formed a close combat group. Morak would lead them, since his years of handling a small crew in Nerit had given him a bit of experience. Claire would direct Darya, Benneth, and the other two kobold rogues as ranged damage, hit-and-run tactics, and scouting. I would lead the final group of Arack, Atlas, Naevys, and Jebediah, handling crowd control and assisting the other groups.

  That evening, after arranging our groups, we were drilling past twilight, trying to reach some semblance of control and rapport.

  "All right, take a break," I shouted.

  Breathing hard from exertion, Arack and Jebediah dropped to the ground. "What is this nonsense, Uncle? You're just making us run back and forth and, like, act."

  "Wrong. I'm making us all run back and forth with a purpose. And you should be familiar with this, Arack; Videk is the one who taught me this approach. We don't have much time, but we need to know how to react to different scenarios as a group." I took a drink of water before sharing it around. "Now, Arack, you are still too eager. If you take the lead when we advance toward a melee enemy, you will be an easy target and get in the way of my area spells. As for you, Naevys. Your buffs are really something. If only you could make these last longer, we would be sprinting through the forest."

  The elf grinned. "Such is nature for you. Proceedings are either very slow or very quick."

  "Sounds about right. Hey, in combat, how fast would you be able to guide your vipers around our flank to protect us from any incoming attackers?

  "Like this." A moment later, the scaled monstrosities slithered through the grass, to stand in front of an imaginary enemy.

  "That's not half bad. Add that to Jebediah's pet joining us from the other side, and we should have sufficient protection to slow enemies down while we pour damage into them."

  Arack sat up. "But, I mean, we haven't even practiced attacking somebody yet? Who does what?"

  I put on my best grin. "Aah. Complaining. That means you must have regained your stamina. Up! We're being attacked by an overwhelming force. Get moving!"

  We spent an hour total, reacting to different simple scenarios and correcting the worst errors. When we fell asleep that night, sleep came within moments.

  The second day started off easy enough. I could really get used to the benefits from Darya's scout class. I actually felt well-rested and awoke with a smile on my face. Not a common occurrence. The hike was exactly what I expected, though. Monotonous, neverending, and arduous. We did get an unexpected break when Benneth mentioned seeing fresh griffin tracks. Griffins were rare in this part of the woods, and, from what I understood, very much out of our league. We waited within a copse of trees as Benneth and Claire scouted to see if the monster was nearby, and I used the chance to chat with Darya while I wasn't gasping for breath.

  "Sooo… you never told me. Did you pass the test?"

  Darya, who was in the middle of carving something tiny, frowned and laughed. "I didn't? My God." She bowed from where she sat. "You're looking at a fully-fledged Journeyman Hunter. Please prostrate yourself before me."

  "I'm not worthy. I'm not worthy?"

  She snorted. "Nerd."

  "You love it! Now, tell me about it. Was Benneth as mean as expected?"

  She rolled her eyes. "You have no idea. At first, I figured he was going easy on me. We crossed the Jagged Rush and traveled for two days. Then he took all my weapons and items, except for my knife, and told me that he would pick me up a week later."

  I blinked. "That’s going easy on you? Geez. I would die!"

  "I know. You're also a helpless, ignorant city dweller." She smirked. "But you have a nice voice, so I can excuse a few flaws. Hah. No. Want to know why he left? Because he went deeper into the woods to spend the next week luring increasingly difficult monsters toward me."

  "He did what?" A couple of violent thoughts went through my head before her grin calmed me down a bit.

  "Yeah, I had the same reaction at first. Well, after I took down that enraged Feral Badger, that is. I might have peed myself a little at that surprise. At first I chalked it up to a coincidence, but then I noticed a cloth with some smelly substance on it behind me... he was luring them in with pheromones or something." She shrugged. "That's when I knew what game he was playing."

  "Game? You guys have some crazy ideas about entertainment. Ever heard about dice?"

  She slapped my hand. "Imbecile." Smiling, she then grabbed my hand. "Don't you see? This was exactly what he'd been preparing me for. All those moronic tasks! Prepare a trap from scratch. Show me which weapons you can cr
eate without tools. How do you protect yourself from cold if you're caught outside? It was all in order to ensure I could handle myself." The tall half-orc sat straight, smiling fondly. "And I did. First, I handled the fundamentals - found myself a place where I could only be attacked from one side and was still able to climb a tree if something arrived that I couldn't handle. Then it was on to prepwork. A handful of sharpened sticks for basic defense. Then finding fibers for creating basic rope for traps. And then the real work started."

  I stared at her. "That's... you actually enjoyed it, didn't you?"

  She nodded with a gleam in her eyes. "I've never felt so alive in my life. Every nerve was buzzing, and I worked with an intensity I did not know I possessed. When that scrawny grey wolf tried to jump me, I heard it from all the way across the clearing, I was that alert." She shook her head in amazement. "By the time night fell, I already had a defensive perimeter, a healthy fire, and fire-hardened sticks. Heh. And unseasoned wolf steaks. Do not recommend. I won't bore you with the details-"

  "Bore me? I'm stressed out just listening to what you had to go through."

  She laughed. "I must admit, watching a bear charge me is not an experience I want to repeat."

  "I hear ya." I shuddered at the thought of Othell's demonic monster. "So... was that the worst of it?"