Death Knight Box Set

by Michael Chatfield

  Then came the statements from the guards who had plotted the riot—their actions against the population, their actions against Wemtic.

  She looked at the gnome who stood there with his wrists showing a purple braid. His head hung as silent tears fell down his face.

  The hammer fell on the last defendant.

  “Wemtic.” Anthony’s voice tore through the marketplace, heavy disappointment in his tone. He stood and looked to the crowds.

  “You have heard of the actions taken against Wemtic. You have heard of what he has gone through. While he has suffered, two wrongs do not make a right. All are equal before judgement. Wemtic destroyed the Brilliant Tower of Dark Clouds and his actions would have led to greater animosity between the people of Laisa. His hatred toward the guards turned into a hatred toward humanity.” Anthony shook his head, as people bowed their heads, feeling shame and embarrassment.

  “We, all of us, are people of Dena. To judge a group due to the actions of a few, to respond to injustice with injustice? It will only create issues. When Wemtic was having issues, he didn’t turn to others, but turned to hatred. To create change, we must start with the individual and then a group. Do not listen to what the majority is saying; make your own educated judgement. For his actions, Wemtic will be punished: as well as restoring the Brilliant Tower of Dark Clouds, he will become a guide to Laisa and those who visit it. Laisa is a city of gnomes, goblins, and humans, sometimes even the occasional elf,” Anthony said. A hint of a smile in his voice made people brighten up and look up at him.

  “Work together—become people of Laisa. If you hold onto your anger, if you say that it is a great place, but then those people, you are only hurting your city. Laisa, you have a clean slate—don’t mess it up.”

  As the last hammer fell, the judges stood and bowed to the knight before looking over the people of Laisa. People trembled at those ancient beings. They seemed like the gods of judgement.

  Aila felt the elf judge lock onto her, feeling a resonance with her blood.

  This? Bloodline resonance and so strong? He must be an ancient forefather of the elven race! Just who is Anthony really?

  Aila was burning with questions as the mist forms fell apart, covering the square and hiding Anthony. When it cleared, there were no judges, there was no Anthony—only those who had been judged and the people of Laisa.

  The people started to disperse as those who were judged ran off to carry out their punishments.

  Aila heard a yell as she was about to head back to the tavern. Someone made to strike one of the guards.

  The guard raised his hands, fear on his face as his purple bands glowed. New bands shot out from his wrists and wrapped around the attacker’s wrist.

  They let out a confused yell as they dropped to their knees.

  “Judgement.” A voice sounded out in the air as the voice recorded their crimes and their punishments.

  A self-replicating spell?

  Aila could see how the judgement would spread through the city. Instead of needing to track down all of those who were connected, this way would trace through the nefarious groups of people easily.

  Chapter: To the Deepwood

  Anthony moved through the shadows, literally walking out of one.

  He checked that the coast was clear and he tapped his armor, checking it was all in place.

  The shadow moved, creating a face that would give someone a lifetime of nightmare fuel.

  “What are you laughing for? I might have lost most of my memories but I know all about you and your pranks! I was trying to look badass in front of my troops and you took my pants! Perverted shadow!”

  Solomon’s face distorted more as it looked as though he was there to suck souls and party with corpses. He turned into smoke and flew into Anthony’s armor.

  “Ugh, that was a lot of power. I guess just waking up, you guys haven’t been able to get much Mana recently.” Anthony sounded apologetic as he tapped his arm, as if petting a puppy.

  “One more thing and then get a bit of sleep.” Anthony cleared his nonexistent throat—must have been magic. He headed toward a familiar hut, the hut of the goblin alchemist and her tribe.

  He walked up to the door and knocked on it.

  A leery goblin looked up at him. His snarl turned into an excited expression as he jumped up and started to unlock the door.

  “It’s good to see you, too. Is the head alchemist in? I need to talk to her about something,” Anthony said in Gob.

  The goblin turned and yelled, screeching down the corridor. A tired-looking goblin yelled back as they were half yawning and wiping away the drool and snot left from their nap.

  “Head boomer, metal tree-man here!”

  “I go! I go! Wasted nap time!”

  The goblin seemed annoyed at their lost sleep but turned and power-waddled into the main area.

  The goblins heard about their new guest and started looking out of their rooms.

  The guard was practically skipping down the hall at being so important.

  Anthony was greeted by a hobgoblin, who was spanking an errant goblin.

  “No more pranking your sisters!” the hobgoblin said.

  They squealed in indignation, tears in their little eyes as the hobgoblin put them down.

  “We are tribe, work together. Small pranks are okay, not big pranks that hurt and make people angry. Say sorrys!” the hobgoblin said.

  The goblin looked at the two other goblins and lowered their head, saying sorry. The two sister goblins looked at each other before they went over to their brother goblin and hugged him, chastising him and pulling his ear, but clearly making amends for everything that had happened, softening the blow on the little goblin.

  “Metal tree-man! Hob Grur!” a goblin said.

  The hobgoblin stood up, seeing Anthony there, looking embarrassed.

  “We’re all of the same tribe,” Anthony said.

  The hobgoblin stopped and then grunted and nodded. It was normal for the hobgoblins to punish and look after the little goblins. But with humans and gnomes, they didn’t do that in public; it was seen as embarrassing and forced their rules on the hobgoblins.

  The head alchemist appeared with the goblin who had run ahead, leading them by the hand, much like a child would lead a reluctant parent.

  “Metal tree-man, there issue?” The head alchemist glanced back to her office and her projects there.

  “Head boomer Gixai, you will be all of Laisa’s tribe leader,” Anthony said.

  “Laisa tribe? I already leader of goblin tribes,” Gixai said, looking confused.

  “Tribe of human, goblin, and gnome,” Anthony said.

  “Tribe tribe of Laisa?” Hob Grur said, shocked.

  “Yes,” Anthony said.

  “Too many goblins. Don’t want bigger tribe.” Gixai shook her head.

  “Gnomes and humans need goblin tribes. They have been apart for so long, fighting each other. They have no concept or idea of the tribes. Making Laisa tribe will bind all together,” Anthony said.

  “Gnomes and humans look down on goblins,” Gixai said in a depressed tone. The other goblins and Grur looked down and away.

  Anthony wasn’t blind. He could see their living conditions; he had heard plenty of crimes against them. From the merchants treating them little better than slaves and their own personal property and the guards looking down on them, hurting goblins and imprisoning key hobs so that the rest of the tribe was forced to listen to them.

  “It is time that the people of Laisa knew about the goblins. Show them the way,” Anthony said. “Goblins, humans, gnomes, beast kin, and elves: we are all the same. Raise your heads—you are people of Dena.”

  Anthony’s words were soft but the hobgoblins that had arrived and the head alchemist all looked at Anthony with pleased smiles. Life was never easy on goblins. Many lived in the woods, with everyone looking down on them. If the hobgoblins of a tribe were killed, then the other goblins, enraged at the loss of their parents a
nd leaders, would turn feral and attack others unless another hobgoblin could accept them into their tribe, or they died.

  The little goblins, with their child-like glowing eyes, looked at Anthony. They might not be good-looking, but their hearts were pure.

  We will not look away from the world, whether it’s darkness or it’s light.

  “Have you heard of fireworks, whizz booms?” Anthony looked at the goblins.

  “Whizz booms? New boom?”

  The goblins all seemed to lean in as Anthony laughed.

  “Scratch pad?”

  A waxy tablet and a sharp piece of metal were located. The goblins spent their time and funds on making explosives when they weren’t working as laborers in the city. Goblins were seen as little more than slaves. Although their home was clean, that was due to the hobgoblins putting them to work. But it was very humble; things like paper and writing charcoal were expensive and couldn’t be reused.

  Anthony started to draw.

  “Whizz booms are special booms used to celebrate different events. They can light up the sky and use different kind of booms to work. Only the most advanced boomers know how to make them work and can make them as beautiful as possible.”

  “Powerful whizz booms?”

  “They can fly through the air and show off your booms to everyone,” Anthony said.

  Gixai was practically leaning on him as she looked at the simple drawing he was making.

  ***

  Aila returned to the tavern to find Tommie drinking in the bar, a complicated expression on his face.

  She had seen the goblins leaving their hovels and homes, moving to the city lord’s buildings. The people looked at them with apprehension in their eyes. They had looked down on the goblins and hobs for so long, but now they were the new leaders of the city.

  What will happen when word gets to the higher powers that be?

  The tavern’s darker secret conversations had been broken apart. People were talking in groups, shaking their heads at what they had seen or what they had learned about the people in their city.

  They’re responding to it, like a community now. There were groups sitting together. Although they weren’t mixed in together, they didn’t send furtive or dark glances at other groups and try to make sure others couldn’t listen in.

  It wasn’t much, but it was a large change from just the day before.

  Aila went up to the room she had rented, opening the door to see a set of tree-backed armor face-first on the floor.

  Her brain stopped functioning for a second before she quickly looked around and closed the door. “What are you doing on the floor?” she hissed as she locked the door.

  “Sleep. Mana tired,” Anthony said in caveman-stilted language.

  She sighed and extended her Mana out to him. The strong aura from before had dissipated completely.

  If he were an elf, she would think he had exhausted a part of his life-force in order to gain a higher Mana capacity.

  “Wait, you have Mana?” Aila asked suddenly, shaking her head. “Humans can have Mana? Maybe he’s not a human? But then those familiars—well, I am assuming that those tattoos are familiars.”

  Anthony refrained from talking as Aila grabbed him to turn him over to find out his face was literally planted in the floor.

  “I am so not paying for damages.” She moved to the chair in the room. She looked outside to see whether there were people coming for them. With Anthony’s display, there had to be people looking for him, with either good or bad intentions.

  The sun set not long afterward, with no groups heading for the tavern.

  She relaxed a bit and looked over to Anthony. “Just how do you have Mana? How could you call down that spell?” She took a few minutes before curiosity overtook her.

  She used Mana on her eyes, changing her sight of the world around her, seeing the flow of Mana through all objects as if it lay like a mist over the land, being attracted to different objects. Her movements stilled as she looked at Anthony. The Mana wasn’t pooling toward him; power seeped into his body. His entire body glowed; the power flowed in through the tattoos that were on his very bones.

  “He cast the spell but he was relying on his familiars’ power. Is this the human’s rituals?” Aila muttered. “Familiars are essentially beings of power. Once they make a contract with someone, they’re bound to them, drawing on their Mana pool and the strength of their body and soul in order to act in the world. In time, they will grow in strength, both the familiar and the user becoming stronger. They’re beings of power, so while they don’t have the power of an elven elder, even ten or so basic soldiers with simple familiars with a high Mana ability can be combined into a ritual, transforming that raw power into what the ritual wants. Runes and other magical interfacing technology can do the same. Dave is a powerful familiar, but the others—just who or what are they? To power a ceremony to bring ancient thinking apparitions into reality and create soul binding chains against a person’s will?”

  Aila sunk into thought.

  ***

  Aila woke up to a knock at her door. She looked over and grabbed her dagger.

  “Who is it?” She kept her voice light as she cast a simple Life Detect spell.

  One person and they’re short. They must be a goblin or a gnome. Don’t have any Mana, so must be a gnome.

  “It’s Tommie. We need to go. The traders are about to leave,” Tommie said through the door.

  Aila took a closer look before she opened the door with a dagger in her hand.

  “Are you ready to go?” Tommie asked.

  “Well.” Aila opened the door, showing Anthony face-first in the floor. “Kind of?”

  Tommie stood there in silence for some time before Aila sighed.

  “You get the head. I’ll get the legs. We can roll him up in the carpet.”

  Tommie grabbed his shoulders and started pulling, trying to dislodge Anthony’s face from the floor. He heaved and pulled but his face didn’t come out. Tommie stood up, panting.

  Aila coughed and kicked backward, hitting Anthony’s head.

  “Hey!” Tommie started.

  “Don’t worry. There aren’t any brain cells in there to damage,” Aila said.

  Tommie raised a finger to argue and then closed his mouth as Aila kicked a few more times, dislodging Anthony’s head from the floor.

  They rolled him up in a carpet, leaving his feet dangling out of the end. They went down a set of stairs used by the staff. Todd was in the back of the bar, having some breakfast as the bar wasn’t open and people weren’t awake yet.

  “Is he dead?” Todd asked as he saw the carpet-rolled body.

  “Uh, well, no,” Tommie said.

  “It’s a long story,” Aila muttered.

  Todd nodded and opened the back door for them and checked the coast was clear before he waved them forward to the carriage Tommie had pulled up behind the tavern.

  They stuffed him into the back with the goods, hiding Anthony’s feet.

  As Tommie went over to his dad to say his last good-byes, Aila realized that Anthony’s head was backward.

  “Crap.” She looked around, making sure the others didn’t see her. She dropped down quickly out of sight and then put Anthony’s head around the right way and bounced up again, checking out her nails as Tommie and Todd were hugging it out.

  She finished up her finger inspection and got out of the carriage and climbed into the front seat.

  Tommie moved to the carriage, using the smaller ladder to get up into his seat, and grabbed the reins.

  “Look after him,” Todd said as Tommie snapped his reins. The two beasts pulled with a heave and the carriage rolled forward.

  “I will,” Aila said.

  “See you in two weeks, Dad!” Tommie waved.

  “Stay safe! I’ll keep your room open! You still owe me rent!” Todd yelled as they were turning away from the back of the tavern.

  Tommie smirked, smiling as he got settled into his seat and
they continued toward the gate. They met up with the rest of the trading group that was heading to Thelsedorei.

  “You guys are the third carriage in the convoy. We’ll be moving in five minutes,” the convoy’s leader said.

  “Got it, boss Miggs,” Tommie said.

  The human let out a grunt and then headed back to the rest of the convoy.

  It wasn’t long before the rest of the carriages were moving and they headed out of Laisa.

  They had only been there for two days.

  She saw the group of adventurers walking out of the gate as well with the early morning convoy.

  “Did you hear about the tree knight who judged the city?”

  “Who hasn’t, Gunnar?” Sofie asked.

  “Do you think it is the same as that other knight? Anthony?” Katrine asked.

  “Him? I doubt he could swing a sword in the right direction, let alone be some kind of Guardian judge thing that can take over an entire city with his little hammer,” Sofie said.

  “Bit passionate about it?” Gunnar asked.

  There was a sound of metal on metal.

  “Ow! What was that for?” Gunnar complained.

  “That feels better. All right, let’s get those bunny pelts!”

  “What is with the bunny pelts? Couldn’t we go and get wolves?” Katrine asked.

  “No, because someone killed off all the damn wolves so now there is a damn bunny plague that arrives every spring,” Sofie said.

  The conversation drifted off as the group devolved into the rights and wrongs of the impending bunny genocide. Even while they argued, they didn’t slow their pace in leaving the city.

  Aila pulled on her hood again and got comfortable in her seat.

  There was a bump in the road and she nearly went flying out of her chair as she was adjusting her cushion. She was tilting over as Tommie grabbed her belt and pulled her back. Aila let out a shriek as her butt hit the seat again.

  “Got to watch out you don’t fall off!” Tommie said helpfully.

  Aila nodded with watery eyes.