The Questing Game

by James Galloway

  The ship tied up and lowered its gangplank smartly at sunset. Tarrin was joined by Allia and Dar, each wearing long silk robes to conceal themselves from wandering eyes. Allia looked particularly uncomfortable in her attire. It was a bright red silk, complete with a hood-like cowl and veil common in Saranam and Yar Arak. Saranami and Arakite women favored the garments, for some mysterious reason. She was carrying his staff, which she handed to him wordlessly when she reached him.

  "You look unhappy," Tarrin remarked to her.

  "I despise being dressed like this," she growled. "But Dolanna said that we must not attract attention. She feels I would attract attention."

  "You're Selani, Allia," Dar said simply. "You'll attract attention. Trust me."

  "She'll attract attention like that anyway," Tarrin noted. "She's about a head taller than an average woman. It makes her stand out."

  "No disguise is perfect," Dar shrugged.

  Dolanna arrived, wearing a similar robe and veil. The woman's pale skin made her stand out a little from her black robe. "Tarrin," she greeted, "You need to take your cat form."

  "Why?" he asked.

  "Because you will be the one to try to find the Doomwalker," she replied. "You cannot smell it in that form. You need a form with good senses, and your natural form will give us away."

  "With that stench out there, I may not be able to smell it, Dolanna," he warned. "This is the worst city I've ever scented before. It puts Dayisè and Suld to shame. They smell like country meadows compared to that," he said with a wave towards the city.

  "We will be happy with whatever aid you can provide, my dear one," she smiled through her veil.

  "Any idea about what we do when we get to Arak?" Dar asked curiously.

  "Some. I have been talking with Phandebrass and Camara Tal. We have worked out an idea."

  "What kind of idea?" Tarrin asked.

  "The Book of Ages is an ancient tome, dear one," she replied. "And there are weaves for locating items of extreme age."

  "I--ohhhh," Dar said with a smile. "I get it. Even in a city the size of Dala Yar Arak, there can't be thousand-year-old antiques in every attic."

  "Precisely," she nodded. "Phandebrass is researching a wizard spell that will duplicate the weave, and Camara Tal has already arranged the proper spell with her goddess."

  "You didn't ask me," Sarraya fumed.

  "You already have a primary task, Faerie," Dolanna replied. "We will not usurp you from it."

  "I could be convinced."

  "True, but I will not answer to Triana for your own failing. That is an unpleasant chore that you may undergo alone."

  "Cheater," Sarraya grumbled.

  "There are bound to be a great many items that will react to the spells we have in mind, but at least it will give us a way to search in a systematic manner," Dolanna told Tarrin. "But we must do it quickly. We are not the only ones looking for the book. We must find it first."

  Faalken joined them, wearing his full armor, his magical sword belted at his side. "We're about ready to go, Dolanna," he reported. "That crazy wizard's stuffing his pockets with sand, scales, a lizard's tail, and other weird things."

  "Spell components, most likely," Dolanna replied. Tarrin looked, and saw the mage rifling through his pockets and a satchel he was carrying. The drakes were on his shoulders, looking down as he checked his inventory of goods.

  "Maybe he just wants to scare somebody," Faalken chuckled to himself as he moved towards Camara Tal. The Amazon still wouldn't get all that close to him, but for this excursion, he had already steeled himself against her presence.

  "Allia, you carry Tarrin. You are the only one that can understand him," Dolanna ordered.

  Allia nodded, and Tarrin absently shifted into his cat form. It felt a little weird doing it directly from the human shape, but the immediate easing of aching muscles and joints was a blissful relief, release, from the unnatural form. His staff disappeared with him, since it was in his hands when he changed form, riding along in that elsewhere his clothing went when he shapeshifted. It would reappear when he changed back. Allia reached down and picked him up, then cradled him to her chest gently. The horrific stench of the city assaulted him with surprising power, since they were literally in the city now, and the wind blew its foul miasma right into his face. He sneezed a few times at the horrible odor, but forced himself to test it, sift through it, rule out the stink of human waste and decaying vermin and animal droppings to search for that unnatural grave smell that accompanied the Doomwalker. There was no hint of the Doomwalker in the wind, but he'd know more when they went out into the city, as Dolanna planned. Go out and make sure it either was there or it wasn't there, and plan the rest of the night accordingly.

  "Alright, is everyone ready?" Faalken asked with a light smile.

  "Let's go, then," Camara Tal grunted.

  "I say, I'm ready to go," Phandebrass announced. "Chopstick, Turnkey, you stay here and watch the ship while we're gone. Come get me if something bad happens," he ordered the drakes, who both nodded and flew up into the rigging. "Alright, let's go about and hunt down that fell monster."

  "Sounds good to me," Sarraya said with a bright eagerness in her eyes.

  It worked rather well. Allia carried Tarrin through the city, following Dolanna and Faalken confidently, as Tarrin choked through the horrible smell of the city and searched for any scent trace of the Doomwalker. They walked along streets that were bustling with many people, dressed almost universally in robes or silks so as not to stand out. Most of them were dark-skinned, Arakites, Saranami, maybe even a few Godani or Nyrians from east of Yar Arak. A few dusky Tellurians from the southern continent were also visible on the streets. All of those people were merchants, traders, coming to Saranam to arrange trade with Yar Arak, or arrange for goods from that massive empire. Many outlander merchants preferred to deal with Arakites outside Yar Arak, because of the Arakite penchant for enslaving outlanders. More than a few slaves were former merchants who had offended their potential business associates. The late hour didn't seem to affect business in the slightest, and the few permanent structures were loud with musicians, dancers, and revelry. Those permanent buildings were either inns or festival halls, hosting open parties for anyone with the coin to pay to enter. The streets were lit by torches on tall stands, ten spans overhead, torches that spat and guttered in the moderate breeze blowing towards the sea. The minor streets were surprising, haphazard at best, packed dirt with slight ruts in them from wagon wheels, which turned and meandered around tents that were erected wherever there was enough room for them to fit. Only established large streets were kept open, streets clearly marked by shallow ditches on either side, ditches filled with human excrement and dead rats. Those major streets had been what had made the city look more orderly from a distance, for the tents lining those streets were evenly spaced and created a pattern that the eye naturally sought out. Wooden slabs were laid over the ditches to form smaller side streets, streets that rarely went straight for more than twenty spans before curving around someone's tent. It made the city a packed maze of stretched cloth and decay, where the only landmarks were the major streets and the towers of the city wall, which were visible over the tents.

  "Any sign?" Allia asked quietly.

  "Not yet," he replied in the manner of the Cat. "It's hard to smell anything over this stench, sister. I'd be surprised if I could sniff it out."

  "Just do your best, deshida," Allia replied aloud. "It's all we can ask of you."

  "Any sign?" Faalken asked back to them. Allia shook her head, and the Knight nodded to her and returned to guiding them along meandering streets bordered by colorful tents and illuminated by a thousand wandering torches.

  "I hope Renoit has the sense to keep his people close," Camara Tal grunted. "With as much ale that flows in this city, he may lose a few if he lets them run free."

  "I doubt they'd get that drunk, Camara Tal," Dar objected.

  "It's not them drinking that would be the
problem," she replied. "It would be them surviving the ones that are drinking that's tricky. Those performers are all generally small, thin people. They'd look like juicy targets to a drunken bully looking for someone to fight."

  "I learned early in life that there are three kinds of people you don't bully, Camara Tal," Faalken looked back with a grin. "Warriors, dancers, and acrobats."

  "Why is that, Faalken?" Phandebrass asked curiously.

  Faalken grinned at the mage. "All three are alot stronger than they look," he replied. "I knew a dancing girl in Ultern that could bend pewter tankards by putting them between her knees and squeezing them."

  "Ouch," Dar grunted.

  "I'd certainly not want to be married to her," Faalken chuckled. "I'd be afraid to fulfill my marital duty."

  Tarrin's ears picked up as a faint trace of a horrible earthen smell touched his nose, the unmistakable scent of something beyond the grave. The smell of it made his heart pick up and his ears lay back. It was in the wind, not on the ground, an airborne scent that came from their right. "That's it," he told Allia quickly. "It's here."

  "It's here," Allia echoed to the others.

  "Where?" Dolanna asked.

  "The scent on the wind, it could be anywhere upwind of me," he told Allia, who relayed that to Dolanna. The texture of the scent changed quickly and steadily, becoming more and more distinct.

  With a gasp, he understood the meaning of that. It was moving towards them!

  He struggled out of Allia's arms, and shapeshifted to his humanoid form immediately. His staff appeared in his paws with him as he got a bearing on the scent. Much stronger, much closer, and getting stronger and stronger! People gawked and gasped and pointed at him as he turned his nose into the wind, tuning out all other scents, concentrating solely on that one smell, and his sudden transformation made his companions put hands on their weapons. "Tarrin?" Dolanna asked nervously.

  "It's moving right towards us, Dolanna," he said in a low voice. "Fast. Very fast. It knows exactly where we are."

  "Phandebrass!" Dolanna barked. "Cast your spell now!"

  "But we don't have time--"

  "We don't have time, you fool!" Camara Tal snapped, whipping he sword out and pointing. "There it is!"

  It charged from between two tents, sword in one hand and shield strapped to the other arm. It wore different armor this time, a heavy plate armor breastplate with no greaves or armguards, and a large crested helmet with cheekguards. The gray emaciation of its face made no doubt as to what it was, as did its unnatural scent. "No stone, Were-cat!" it cackled in hideous anticipation. "I have ye now!"

  Tarrin raised his staff as it lunged right at him, ignoring everyone else, then slammed it into its shield in a broad sweep when it tried to skewer him, smashing the skeletal being to the side before it could find its mark.

  "Sarraya, now!" Dolanna screamed. "Do it now!"

  The Faerie appeared over the Doomwalker's head, and she raised her arms out to the sides. Her body began to glow with an incandescent light, but it ended with a squeaky "Eep!" when Jegojah's shield smashed into her from below, sending her careening over a tent and out of sight. The Doomwalker grabbed its sword in both hands, for it had thrown its shield to stop the Faerie from using her magic.

  "Clever," Faalken grunted in appreciation as he pushed his helmet down a bit more on his helmet and drew his sword. "Let's get `im!" he called loudly.

  Tarrin, Allia, Camara Tal, and Faalken attacked the Doomwalker literally from all four sides, but it completely ignored the others to focus on Tarrin. Its sword moved with deadly speed and precision, a shallow slice to the chest. He deflected it easily, turning the weapon away from Allia as she stabbed the Doomwalker with both her slender shortswords so it couldn't reverse its blow and attack her. Allia's weapons bounced off its armor with a metallic clang. Camara Tal stabbed it on the other side, with no more effect Allia's weapons had. But the Doomwalker staggered forward when Faalken hit it from behind with a massive overhanded blow of his magical weapon, a blow that split the back of its helmet and dug a deep gash in the back of its armored breastplate. It staggered right into Tarrin, who took a paw off his staff and hit it with a vicious, powerful sideways swipe of his claws, ripping the helmet off and ripping out a sizable chunk of the side of its face in the bargain. The strike sent it wobbling to the side, where Allia kicked it dead in the face and snapped its head back, arresting its sidways lurch. It seemed to recover immediately, kneeling and driving a fist into the ground--

  --and they were all flying through the air away from the undead warrior, struck by some magical force that emanated from that punch into the ground. Tarrin's breath whooshed out of his lungs as he sailed through the air, landing heavily on his side and rolling a few times before stopping on his back. The others weren't as resilient as he was, Faalken was laying on his back, rolling over as Camara Tal pulled herself up onto her knees. Allia was the only other one to withstand the blow, landing heavily but rolling with the momentum to come up lightly on her feet. She dashed forward with impossible speed even as the Doomwalker rose from its kneel and moved towards Tarrin.

  He sucked in precious air for a long second, recovering his wits in time to see the Doomwalker charging at him with its weapon over its head. Such an obvious move had to be a feint or trick of some kind, he was sure of it. He was so sure of it that he nearly got hit by that weapon when it tried to cut his head in half. Doing the only thing he could think up, he shapeshifted quickly, turning back into a small cat. That made the attack go high, changing literally just as it struck, making it impossible for it to adjust to hit the smaller target. He scrambled to his feet and ran between the Doomwalker's legs, then turned and shapeshifted back to his natural form, raising his staff over his head to slam the Doomwalker into the ground. He gave it everything he had, knowing it wouldn't hurt the monster but it would take it off its feet--

  --and his staff hit nothing but empty air. It smashed into the ground, raising a furrow of flying dirt. He seemed to sense the Doomwalker to his right, and he slipped forward just in time to avoid having his head chopped off. The swipe took off his braid and nipped off the tip of his left ear, sending a bite of pain through the appendage. It reversed it swing to try to slash him, but Allia was there, striking the sword and sending it high as Tarrin ducked under it. The Were-cat and the Selani paused side by side, unspoken plans passing between them, and then they turned on the Doomwalker and attacked.

  It had no idea what to do. The Were-cat and the Selani moved with blinding speed, in perfect harmony with one another, staff and slender swords jabbing, slashing, striking and worrying at the Doomwalker from every side all at once. Without its shield, it suffered innumerable nicks and slaps from the weapons, weapons that could do it no harm but succeeded in frustrating the undead creature as it tried to form a defense against the dizzying attack. With Allia there, Tarrin took one paw off his staff and wielded it like a sword, using it mainly to parry and push at the Doomwalker as his free paw and feet sought out the undead monster's flesh. His claws could do it harm, ripping chunks of gray flesh away with every swipe of them and digging gashes out of its exposed bone whenever he could. Any time Jegojah turned his attention to Tarrin, Allia would strike at its sword or knock it off balance, leaving it open for Tarrin's damaging claws. Any time it turned its attention to Allia, Tarrin would redouble if efforts to rip off the Doomwalker's head. It was caught between them, struggling to mount any defense against the deadly pair of skilled warriors.

  Seeming to tire of the assault, it reared back and stomped on the ground, sending a shockwave of energy through the ground. It hit Tarrin and Allia like a giant's fist, slamming them back and away from it, but both of them twisted in the air and landed on their feet. They didn't have to fend off the Doomwalker, however, for Camara Tal had re-engaged the monster, and the fact that her sword was glowing with a magical light said that she had prepared herself before coming back into the fight. Every blow from the weapon sent brilliant sparks of light
flying away from it, and the impact with the Doomwalker's sword seemed to shudder it back, as if Camara Tal were a full-grown woman striking at someone with a child's strength. The Amazon was cursing and chanting at the same time, something that seemed to unnerve the undead warrior, and the silver amulet around her neck was glowing with a brilliant amber radiance. She beat the Doomwalker back, beat it back with several broad, powerful blows from her sword, then knocked its weapon to the side and levelled her sword to stab it through the belly. But as she made the thrust, the Doomwalker simply disappeared, reappearing right behind her, just as it had done to Tarrin. She moved just as fast as he did, sliding to the side, but it wasn't fast enough. It tried to impale her through the back, but her move had caused the blade of the sword to cut a deep gash in her side, a minor wound that would only need stitches to mend. But the act of twisting had caused a foot to slip out from under her, spilling her to the ground right in front of the undead monster. It raised its weapon to chop her in half, but backed up when Phandebrass faced off against it.

  The wizard was also chanting, chanting in the discordant language of magic, and his body flared with a bright light. When it dimmed, he was again turned to steel, and he wasted no time going after the Doomwalker. He smacked the Doomwalker's weapon aside almost negligently, then levelled an overhanded punch that would have driven the monster through the ground. But the Doomwalker raised a hand, a hand pulsating with magical energy, then levelled it at Phandebrass. It coalesced around him quickly, then it flashed so brightly that Tarrin lost sight of the mage for a second. When it faded, Phandebrass was flesh and blood once again.

  The Doomwalker had somehow cancelled out Phandebrass' spell.

  "Oh, bother," Phandebrass snorted as he backed quickly away from the undead warrior. It hadn't been for naught, since he had given Tarrin and Allia time to get back to the Doomwalker, and had given time for Camara Tal to scoot out of the way. Tarrin bulled into it from behind, driving it to the ground under his weight, his claws immediately seeking to rip the Doomwalker to shreds. Where was Dolanna and Dar! They needed some help here! But the Doomwalker simply vanished once again, and Tarrin scrambled forward instinctively after it disappeared from underneath him, fearing it would appear behind him and try to skewer him.