The next morning, the Lance exited the tents with such a quick intensity that Brin was sure most of them had already been awake before the trumpets.
This time, there was no fumbling around looking for supplies and no worrying about who would do what. Meredydd had agreed to do the armor for the three members of the Lance who''d been called out on doing a bad job, and Cowl had been convinced to relent and let the Lance use his sharpening stones as needed, without supervision, with Brin promising to fund a replacement if they ruined his nice one. He in turn was able to give his full attention to packing up the tents, and while he still was a bit more of a micromanager than Brin would''ve liked, he wasn''t near as much of an impediment as he''d been the day before.
Govannon and Anwir had been chosen to sleep in their armor, so after sharpening their swords they left directly to start on Cid and Hedrek''s horses. Then they''d prepare their own, and then help with anyone else who was late to arrive.
For Brin''s part, he mostly shouted at everyone. He''d decided to split his mind, keeping only a quarter for himself, and use the rest of his mental space to assign a watcher to each of the men.
The last touch was a Directed Thread running a Mouth Manager, so that each of his split minds could get a chance to give directions. The result made Brin feel kind of cool.
"Govannon, sharpen first! We need you at those horses. Anwir, slow down and do it right! Hedrek, that buckle is wrong. Undo it and try again! Rhun, help Hedrek. Cowl, leave it, Aeron knows what he''s doing! Aeron, not like that! For the love of Solia, I just told Cowl that you know what you''re doing! Cid, sir, if you don''t mind, Rhun and Hedrek need help."
The result was something even more chaotic than yesterday, but it was also faster. Everyone was in the right place, and they were all working at the same time instead of being bottlenecked by Cowl. When the last of the men set off towards the corrals to get the horses, they were among the first instead of the last.
They lost some time against the other teams while the men were preparing the horses, but even this was a positive sign; they were actually taking the time to be thorough and he knew the judges were looking for that.
When Brin rode with the rest of the men and found their place in line, they found that they were faster than nearly half of the other Lances instead of being among the last. That was better than it sounded, because the other Lances had also all improved from their performance yesterday. The competitive spirit was infecting more than just their Lance.
They didn''t need to wait nearly as long this time for things to get started, and they didn''t practice a [Charge] this time, either. A [Knight] named sir Crost rode in front of them and announced that he was their Hundred Man Commander before riding on to say the same thing to the next Lance. He told them that he''d be directing them with hand signs, which Brin didn''t understand, but apparently Cid did.
Soon after, Crost signalled them, and Cid shouted, "Ok, he wants two rows of five. Hierarchical rank. Follow me."
Cid started forward, and the Lance rushed to join him. Hierarchical order actually meant that the highest ranked person would be the front middle, which left Brin on Cid''s right and Hedrek on his left, while Aeron headed up the second row.
The Lance seemed to have a good sense for how much space should be between each horse from the training that Derec put them through, because when Cid led them to join up with a few other Lances riding the same direction, they all seemed to fit together perfectly.
The High Commanders gave orders to their Lieutenants, who gave orders to their Hundred Man Commanders, who in turn gave orders to their Primes; the entire thing a huge complex web of communication. At the same time, it was simple, for Brin at least. He only needed to follow Cid. Cid in turn, also didn''t need to do much thinking, since Crost''s orders were quick and clear.
Brin only had to follow along, and if he didn''t understand the point of this maneuver in particular, it didn''t really matter. He only needed to follow orders.
He realized that this training wasn''t actually for the knights, or at least it wasn''t mainly for them. The point of this exercise was for the leadership to get used to working together and to learn how to coordinate. With that perspective, Brin kept Invisible Eyes high up above and watched, learning what he could.
Any time one of his Invisible Eyes drew too near one of the commanders, some kind of anti-illusion enchantment would knock it out. It was frustrating, but also good to see that the people on his side weren¡¯t totally defenseless to spies, and there was still plenty Brin could learn just from hearing the shouts and the trumpets, and watching the hand signs.
The first part of the day was slow and easy, with simple movements and drills. They broke for a midday meal and then in the afternoon things got more complex and interesting. Right before sundown they started using Skills.
Brin himself got hit with a few, and it was an odd experience. Out of nowhere, he suddenly knew that he was supposed to shift to the side. He leaned to the left, and at the same time his horse stepped to the side. Brin had never seen that kind of lateral movement out of a horse except for in the horse competitions in his old life, and here they were all doing it in perfect harmony.
Later, his Lance was galloping across the field, when suddenly they stopped. They didn''t slow down, they didn''t come to a screeching halt; their momentum just ended.
Another hundred knights crossed their path, galloping through the space they would''ve just run into without a Skill stopping them, and then Brin''s group was running again. The starting motion was as abrupt as the stop had been, as if someone had just stopped them in time and then let them go again.
That night, a [Watchful Knight] came by to drop off another note giving them their rankings.
They were ninety-fifth out of two hundred. The rest of the Lance gave out a cheer when they heard the news, clearly gratified to be on the better half of all the knights here, especially since they were so new, but Brin thought they could still do better.
The biggest ding in their score had come due to an "indecorous air of panic". That had only come because they''d been trying something for the first time. They''d be a lot smoother tomorrow.
The men needed no encouragement to swap ideas about what they could do better. Brin had even meekly offered to stop shouting at them so much. Govannon and Hedrek looked like they might want that, but they were cut off by Aeron and Rhun who insisted that his shouting was a necessity.
The next day the Lance moved a lot smoother. Brin kept up his shouting just to help everyone remember their roles, but didn''t need to correct anyone nearly as much.
One minor spot of drama happened when Hedrek decided to help with the tents even though Brin did his best to guide him away from that chore and folded it completely wrong.
Govannon tried to push him away and do it for him, saying, "You''re such an idiot, Hedrek. Why can''t you just do something right for once? We''ve seen Cowl do this six times and--"
Hedrek shoved Govannon out of the way, knocking him to the ground. "It''s a dark day when a runny-nose bedwetter with a Class for children calls a true [Knight] an idiot."
Then he bundled up the tent in a ball and shoved it into the locker. Cowl meekly came along after to refold it, and Hedrek pretended not to notice.
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Fetching the horses went smoothly, and when they lined up on the field there were only sixty teams faster than them.
The formation exercises only lasted an hour, with the leaders firing their Skills right away.
When they got back to their camp, Brin was pleasantly surprised to find that he wouldn''t have to spend an hour wandering around trying to figure out what was going on. A page was waiting for them with instructions.
"I''m to pass on your instructions from sir Galan. Sir Gurthcid, you''re wanted in the command tents. Sir Brin and sir Rhun, you''ll learn counter-fencing, east of the corrals. Sir Hedrek, you may join sir Gurthcid or sirs Brin and Rhun. The rest of you will be attending a lecture on laws and standards. Sir Galan reminds you to pay attention, as there will be an assessment in the form of oral debate."
They all sounded pretty interesting to Brin, so it was nice that he could go to all of them. He returned all his split minds and threads, and sent out directed threads to watch the two other groups.
He walked side by side with Rhun, and they quickly found the spot the page had directed them to. Around two dozen knights were hanging around inside an impromptu practice circle. From first glance, none of them were actually [Knights], they were all near level 30, and most were around Rhun''s age. There were weapon stands with all different kinds of martial instruments. Swords and spears, warhammers, maces, and axes, and several different kinds of polearms. None of them looked to be especially high quality, just regular steel.
Sir Crost, their Hundred Man Commander was the most senior knight there, and he looked like he was to be their instructor. Sure enough, after Brin and the others waited for a few more knights to arrive, he cleared his throat and said. "Now then. I bet you''re all wondering what counter-fencing is. Probably never heard of it before? That''s fair, because the counter to fencing is more fencing. We''ll get into that in a bit, but first I want to establish a baseline. If you''re here it''s because you''ve demonstrated a solid foundation, but most of you weren''t formally trained so you might be lacking some vocabulary. Let''s get into it."
Crost talked, and another senior knight demonstrated, going through different cuts and jabs with a slim fencing saber. He showed them the right way to lunge, the difference between a feint and a beat, three different ways to guard, and how to advance without crossing the legs.
It was all things that Brin kind of knew, but his melee training with Hogg had been the "learn by doing" variety. Crost went more in depth, talking about which moves were the best counters to which. "If your enemy has [Blade Mastery] then he''ll pull off each move perfectly. But a perfectly executed lunge still has many openings. It''s all about choosing what to do, and when."
Brin had directed threads start turning this into a practice plan; he needed to try all of this out himself. Intentionally, instead of just doing the moves on the fly when he got into that situation.
Crost also spoke about distance, something Brin thought he understood, but apparently he was wrong.
"At melee long distance, you should be able to hit your opponent with a full lunge and a preparatory half-step. You need to know exactly how far that is for yourself and your weapon of choice. Everyone get into the guard position at long distance from a practice dummy. We don''t have enough for everyone, so it''s fine if more than one of you are aiming at the same one," said Crost. "I think you''ll notice that the distance is a lot longer than you think it is."
Brin measured it in reverse, by tapping the dummy at a full lunge and then stepping back half a step and into the guard. Crost was right. It was nearly eight feet away; it felt like it was a safe distance away, but it really wasn¡¯t.
"This is the amount of space you need to take advantage of an opening. If someone is this far away from you, then don''t take your eyes off them. They only need half a wink to put a blade at your throat. On the other hand, if you are paying attention, then any attack from this range will put them in danger of a counterstrike."
The other obvious thing Brin noticed was that Long Distance with the spear was much longer than with the swords most of the other men were using.
He showed them short distance, and close distance. "At short distance, an opponent can hit you without moving their feet. If you''re at short distance with someone, expect to get hit. The best fencer in the world might still get tagged by a rookie; you can¡¯t count on avoiding anything at this range. That''s a bad deal if you get suckered into an unarmored duel. So don''t do that! You''re knights! Keep your armor on. I''d say that short distance is the best place for a man in armor, but you''ve got to be careful, because if short distance is the best, close distance is the worst."
Crost demonstrated by moving just six inches closer to the other senior knight, and then reached out and grabbed his armor. He twisted and threw him to the ground. "At close distance, your opponent is in grappling range, and that''s our biggest weakness. Getting us to the ground is the one reliable way of dealing with a [Knight]. A lot of the work of a [Knight] in combat is managing distance. Too far and you''re just wasting time. Too close and you''re putting yourself in danger. Next time you''re training with your Lance, I recommend practicing just that. Have two of your Lancemates try to get into grappling range while you hold them off. You don''t want your first time in that situation to be on the battlefield."
Brin added that to the mental list of things to practice. He could totally make some Mirror Men and have them practice this. It didn''t matter that they weren''t all that strong or fast, they could at least help him work on estimating distances and practice standard blows and counters.
"Alright, for this next part, I''ll take a volunteer. You, sir Brin, step forward please," said Crost. He asked Brin to perform a standard lunge. Spear fully extended, with the weight of his body on his lead foot.
Crost shook Brin''s shoulder. "Now, this is pretty sturdy from the front. But what happens if I come from the side?"
He pushed lightly against Brin''s chest, and Brin staggered backwards to keep from falling.
"Completely off balance, no matter how strong you are, right?"
"Right." Brin nodded.
"Wrong," said Crost. "Try me."
Crost made the same lunge pose, and Brin pushed him lightly in the same place, but he didn''t budge. Brin pushed harder, and Crost still held firm. It wasn''t until Brin really put his back into it that he managed to make Crost move, but Crost slid rather than losing his footing.
"Now, how''d I do that?" asked Crost. When no one answered, he said, "It''s not that complicated. I have high Strength and high Dexterity.¡±
¡°What? No!¡± said Brin. ¡°It¡¯s not about strength, it¡¯s about leverage! You¡¯re¡ you¡¯re leaning your body in a way I didn¡¯t notice or something.¡±
Crost tilted his head to the side, raising his eyebrows in a mildly patronizing way. ¡°A little bit, maybe. But are you sure? Let me ask you something young sir. When you learned to fight, were you much weaker than you are now?"
"Yes," Brin said.
Crost nodded. "And when you learned to walk, you were weaker still. When you learned to run and jump and climb trees and all the other things people can do with their bodies, you were a pre-System child. You learned your limitations like that. Some of those limitations are still in place, but some aren''t. Are you sure you know which is which?"
Brin smiled. "Show me."
Crost took the entire group through some of the strangest exercises he''d ever done in his life. It was less like combat training, and more like lessons in interpretive dance. They practiced abruptly shifting their momentum in ways that would snap a normal person''s ankles. They launched straight to their feet from flat on their faces by pushing against the floor. They practiced blocks that should be impossible because they were at angles that shouldn''t have a lot of power.
A lot of it felt like Crost was teaching them wrong on purpose, and when Brin suggested that, he told them it was sort of true. "A lot of this won''t work against someone at your own level of Strength, but I never ran into much of that. Usually it''s someone weak who thinks they can surprise you by being tricky."
They also practiced more edge cases, like stepping off a fence onto open air and then stopping and pulling themselves back with their back foot. It was a move that didn¡¯t look like it should be possible, and the force made Brin¡¯s calf muscles feel like they were going to tear, but somehow he managed it.
The last thing that Crost made them think about was friction, or rather the lack thereof. When two men with high levels in Strength clashed blades, there was a strong force pushing them both back. Crost insisted that rather than try to find a way to plant yourself on the ground, you were better off just expecting that you¡¯d be sliding around a little bit with every strike. He had them practice pushing each other and sliding across the ground rather than tripping or trying to stay firm.
It all came down to footwork, which seemed obvious in retrospect but wasn¡¯t something Brin had spent a lot of time thinking about. Fighting was something he did with his arms, and his legs just sort of took care of themselves.
Through training, you have earned the following attributes:
Dexterity +2
When they were done, Brin couldn''t have been more excited because he had a hundred more things he wanted to practice. He already had ideas on making the perfect glass dolls to work on this stuff; he could have them practice while he and the rest of the Lance were doing conditioning.
When their scores from the joint training came in, he saw that the [Watchful Knights] had noticed Hedrek and Govannon¡¯s little spat, and that Hedrek had also attached his pauldrons incorrectly. Even so, the Lance had once again jumped up in the rankings, now in fortieth place, a ranking that had a lot of other Lances turning their heads and taking notice. Who¡¯s the loser squad now?
Cid also had extra news for them. Apparently Brin wouldn''t get a chance to work on trying out all the new tricks he''d learned today.
"The joint exercises are ending now. Get a good night''s sleep tonight. Tomorrow we''ll be setting off on our first patrol."
Book 4 - Chapter 30
The group was pretty ripe when they returned to their bunk room one last time to wash and change for dinner. The smell only got worse as they stripped out of their armor, unleashing smells that had been hiding in wait for three days. The servants couldn''t all hide the disgust on their faces as they gathered the clothes to be laundered. It would only get worse from here. This time they''d basically been camping in their front yard, but soon they''d be on the road for weeks or months. He''d need to talk to Cowl about doing something about their hygiene situation.
When Brin was dressed, and feeling the hunger of a quickly growing body, he was interrupted at the door by a man he''d never seen before. He wore the official uniform of a [Messenger], which Brin verified with [Inspect].
The [Messenger] eyed Brin''s scars and said, "Whoa. She wasn''t kidding. You''re Brin the Mistaken?"
"That''s right."
He pulled a letter from his bag and handed it to Brin. It was from Lumina. "I was paid to deposit this into your hands directly. I bid you a good day."
Brin returned to the bunkroom, opening the letter.
"Oh, it''s a woman''s handwriting. Is that from your mommy?" sneered Govannon.
Brin said, "Yeah."
Govannon started laughing and elbowed Brych. The [Rogue] gave an uncomfortable smile and backed away from Govannon. No one else joined in. Brin stared at his Dectant with no expression until the laughter died down.
"Why don''t you guys go on ahead? I''ll catch up," said Brin.
"Y-yes. Very well. Sir," said Govannon, and then marched towards the door, frowning.
Hedrek burst out laughing when Govannon was out of the door, and the rest of the men joined in.
"If only he''d taken it a little bit farther, we would''ve seen something good," said Hedrek, as they all filed out.
Knights were stereotypically very defensive when it came to their mothers, so there was no way any wannabe [Knights] would''ve been happy to see someone make fun of one. Thankfully Govannon hadn''t taken it that far.
As for his own feelings, well, he couldn''t honestly say he loved Lumina like a normal son loved his mother, but he liked her and he respected her.
The letter began.
My dear Brin,
It was with acute gladness that I received your last letter. Knowing that you are safe with Galan has set my heart at such ease as you can scarcely imagine. The plots and treachery present in the Tower are worse even than I had imagined, and it''s been all that Hogg and I can do to stay abreast of them. Oh, but please worry not on our account. I am not in danger of direct attack and Hogg is positively thriving here. For a man who claims to have such contempt for schemes and machinations, Hogg has taken to this world like a duck to water.
As for your own safety, I think it was correct to send you to the Order of the Long Sleep in more ways than one. It is seen that by joining an Ollandish Order you have tied yourself to their nation, and now are in no position to help me in realizing whatever pretentions they imagine I have. Worry not over these matters. All will be settled by the time you are ready to enter the Tower.
Hogg sends his best, and reminds you be circumspect in your associations and prudent in the care of your own safety, though not in those words exactly.
Brin snorted in amusement. He could imagine exactly which words Hogg would use to remind him to stay safe and not make a fool of himself.
As for your questions, I must say that I find this matter of Galan and Lyssa to be deliciously scandalous. She is the sister of a man that Galan slew, and she doesn''t know that he knows. What fun! Were she the one with a secret, that would give her advantage over him. To what end? I know not. But now he knows her secret and has advantage over her. He will be able to reveal this knowledge to great effect, but this is a card that can only be played once. If I were him, I would act in all ways as if I had no idea, waiting for the perfect moment to spring my trap.
Brin paused. He had the feeling that this wasn''t actually about Galan. She was telling him not to do anything about Lothar yet. She probably had some way to exploit the fact that he was a spy for Arcaena, and he couldn''t expose him until the moment was right.
As for [Riding], I must say that I have never regretted taking [Riding] as a Skill. Finding the best beast that money can procure and elevating it further with my own Skill is simply the fastest way to travel. That you also have the chance to train this Skill with true experts makes this a nearly perfect choice. However, I would be remiss if I did not tell Hogg''s side and point out the magical conveyances that he is able to conjure for himself, some of which are quite intriguing. Perhaps something could be created with glass to the same effect? I would also point out that you will greatly benefit bringing at least one free General Skill point with you to the Tower, as there is an upgrade to [Meditation] that I consider essential to any young [Mage]. You might also consider keeping your Skill point free for [Inspect]. I have little doubt that the System will soon offer you some sort of upgrade to that, if it hasn''t already.
As for the question of how to deal with [Knights], I have several options. I can drown them, bake them in their armor, electrocute them, or simply shatter their armor directly. Blinding or deafening them are both possible, but between their vitality and the protections of their armor, I cannot say whether this will be easier than simply destroying them. I understand that you hope there is some trick of Language that will give you an easy way to undermine their defenses, but I must disappoint you. I did not hold back when I taught you last year, though our time was short. Instead of seeking out new words, have you meditated on the words I''ve already taught you? Greater comprehension of each word will increase the effects, so if striking power is your aim, then I advise you to expand your understanding of , , , and of course, .
Starting with , have you noticed that letters that make it up are Une and Dow, instead of Astra? When combined with Ka, Kam, and Sek there is a mathematical symmetry that is quite pleasing, especially when you consider how it relates to and . I¡¯ll explain. When we divide the base of a natural logarithm by the¡
What followed was several pages of magical theory complete with mathematical proofs around the four words that Lumina had asked him to concentrate on. It was the most Lumina thing possible, and just reading it gave Brin a notification.
Through training you have received the following attribute:
Magic +1
The magical theory section was three times as long as the rest of the letter put together, but she got back on topic at the end.
The funds for purchasing armor should arrive soon. I have also arranged a certain artifact to come into your possession. If my plans come to fruition, you will get it exactly when you need it. When you get it, you will know what to do with it. That is all I can tell you for now.
The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Be safe, my darling boy.
With love,
Lumina
What artifact? Was that the Lightmind enchanted into glass that Hogg had told him they¡¯d be getting him? That would explain why she wasn¡¯t talking about it directly. It would be a danger to let anyone know about an artifact that would have direct access to his thoughts.
He realized he¡¯d been reading for nearly ten minutes now, and his stomach had advanced from hunger to piercing, gnawing pain. He tucked the letter in his pocket so that he could study the magical section again later, and dashed down the hall towards the mess.
Inside he found the Lance already sitting together at a table, so he quickly got his food and joined them.
¡°You know, I¡¯m going to miss this place,¡± said Brych. ¡°The food is bland and the company is worse, but¡ you know I forgot what I was going to say. I¡¯ll still miss it, though.¡±
¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with the food,¡± said Cowl.
¡°Maybe not to you, but some of us are used to eating meals with actual flavor. Cid and Hedrek know what I mean,¡± said Meredydd.
Hedrek shrugged. ¡°Food is food. As long as there¡¯s a lot of it, that¡¯s good enough for me.¡± He glanced around with an uncharacteristic look of sheepishness. ¡°You know? When I was little¨C¡±
¡°You were never little,¡± objected Cid.
Hedrek grinned. From the looks of it, this was a familiar back and forth. ¡°I was! I was a little!¡±
¡°You were a giant even as a baby!¡± said Cid.
¡°No, I was baby sized,¡± said Hedrek.
¡°Not compared to other babies!¡± said Cid.
¡°Well, ok then. When I was smaller than I am now¡¡± Hedrek looked to see if Cid would interrupt again, but Cid seemed satisfied by that phrasing. ¡°When I was a child, a somewhat large child¨C¡±
¡°A giant child,¡± muttered Cid.
¡°Oh, would you let him finish!¡± said Brych.
Cid waved an apology and Hedrek started over.
¡°When I was little I used to dream about the food I¡¯d be able to eat when I was a man and I had my own money. I promised myself that I¡¯d make myself a house out of bread and there¡¯d be no door so I¡¯d have to eat my way out.¡±
Brin laughed. ¡°Bread, Hedrek? I used to dream about the same thing, but my house was made of cake. Candy and cake, Hedrek! With chocolate doorknobs and frosting instead of plaster.¡±
To be fair, that dream had been pulled wholesale from a storybook, but he really had daydreamed about it.
Hedrek sniffed in amusement. ¡°Well, little Brin had a better imagination than little Hedrek.¡±
Cid looked like he was about to open his mouth, but Hedrek said, ¡°Oh don''t even.¡±
¡°It is strange,¡± said Rhun. It was rare for him to chime in when they were together in a big group. ¡°I have a hard time imagining Brin as a child, with parents.¡±
¡°He''s still a child,¡± said Brych.
¡°Why did [Archmage] Lumina call you Scar the Mistaken? Or was it your foster father who named you this?¡± asked Rhun.
¡°Hm? You don''t know? I''m certain I told you and Sion the story,¡± said Brin.
¡°Perhaps you told Sion.¡±
¡°Well there''s not much to tell. After a head injury I forgot my name and started telling people I was Brin.¡±
Hedrek burst out laughing then paused after a moment. ¡°Wait, you''re serious.¡±
Brin shrugged and turned back to his dinner.
¡°That can''t be true. There''s no way that''s true,¡± he heard Govannon mutter.
¡°So you truly don''t know your real name?¡± Cid asked, studying Brin''s face intently.
¡°I know my old name, but there''s a reason I haven''t gone back to that,¡± said Brin. Man, telling people even his surface-level history was a minefield. There was a reason he normally kept quiet about this stuff; if he said much more he was at risk for breaking his Oath.
He refused to speak any more on the subject no matter how much they pressed. Eventually they gave up and moved the conversation back to the upcoming patrols. The Lance was divided on whether or not they were looking forward to it. The three men that Brin was calling ¡°Team Lazy¡± were complaining about the comforts that they''d miss. That was Anwir, Govannon, and Meredydd. The other guys were ¡°Team hothead¡± who just wanted to get out there and kill something. Rhun, Aeron, and Brych were the team captains. Somehow, Hedrek was on both teams.
¡°What you''re really going to miss,¡± said Govannon, pointing an accusing finger at Hedrek, ¡°is having someone dress you every day. You can''t do anything right unless someone does it for you.¡±
¡°What you''re really going to miss is having someone change your diapers and wipe your bottom,¡± said Hedrek.
Govannon''s comment didn''t elicit much of a reaction, but everyone broke into uproarious laughter at Hedrek''s.
They were still laughing when Brin noticed Galan and Lyssa leaving the food line with their trays. Galan was watching them, so Brin called out, ¡°Sir Galan! Come dine with us!¡±
In a panic, Cid whispered, ¡°Shush, Brin. He won''t want to¡¡±
¡°If I''m not intruding too much. I would not wish to dampen your boisterous laughter, especially as I myself have no taste for humor.¡±
Despite his feigned objections, Galan wasted no time in taking the empty space across from Brin, and Lyssa sat next to him.
The other members of the Lance looked anywhere from nervous to terrified, and Cid managed to choke out, "We''d be delighted to have you join us, of course. And if humor isn''t to your taste, then we''ll talk about something else."
"We could talk about Brin," Hedrek chimed in. "He was just telling us how he got his name. He said he got a head injury and just started calling himself Scar."
"Well, yes, that''s true. I was there. And good for you on confiding in your friends, Brin. I know how difficult it is for you to speak of these things," said Galan.
"What? Then what''s his real name?"
"His name previous to his injury was Aberthol Beynon, though he has joined the Order under the name sir Brin the Mistaken and I have chosen to accept that."
"Then... then he was telling the truth. You''ve got to be joking," said Hedrek.
"No, indeed, as I''ve said, I have little patience for jokes," said Galan.
"Yeah, see I don''t get that," said Brin. "Everyone likes humor. Saying you don''t like humor is like saying you don''t like music."
"I don''t care for music," said Lyssa. "I care not for the warbling of the [Bards]. Give me instead a tavern full of fine folk, raising their mugs and their voices to a drinking song."
Brin thought it was odd that [Bards] had so completely captured the culture that even the people who didn''t like them still ceded the idea that the music [Bards] played was "real" music.
"See, that''s actually making my point. People who say they don''t like music just haven''t found the music they like yet."
"What are you suggesting?" Galan asked.
"Well, let me make some assumptions, and you tell me if I''m completely off base. You don''t like physical humor. Pranks, ear twisting, or hitting people in the balls, because someone who''s seen as much real violence as you will never enjoy the imitation of it. You don''t care for sexual humor or innuendo, and you don''t like humor at someone else''s expense."
"You have captured my feelings very nicely," said Galan.
Those were the main types of things that guys in a competitive environment like a Lance would laugh about, so it was no wonder that Galan thought he didn''t like to laugh.
"I''d also wager that you don''t like subtle irony. You favor direct communication, so you have no patience for people who say something other than what they mean," said Brin.
"I don''t know if I''d go that far. You make me sound--" Galan started.
"No, no, he''s completely right," said Lyssa.
"In that case, you can see that I''m at an impasse," said Galan.
"No, I don''t think so," said Brin.
This was a familiar problem back in his old world. Some men who prided themselves on being funny their whole lives suddenly found that they had to adjust their sense of humor to their children. They didn''t want to say anything that would set a bad example, and they also didn''t want their jokes to go over their kids heads. The natural result even had a name: Dad jokes.
"What do you call a fish wearing a bowtie? Sofishticated."
Lyssa groaned, while Cid gasped in shock that someone could say something like that to the Acting Commander of the Order of the Long Sleep.
Galan tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I did not hate that. Tell another."
"I have a chocolate music box," Brin said. "You could say it sounds pretty sweet."
Aeron gasped out a quick laugh, probably more at the ridiculousness of what Brin was trying than actual appreciation of the joke, and Galan crinkled a smile.
"You know, I taught the guys how to do a split squat. It was a big step forward."
Several of the men laughed, and Galan chuckled a little bit as well.
"I''m going to get rid of my calendar; its days are numbered. What did the [Cleaner] say when he jumped out of the closet? Supplies! I asked my horse what''s two minus two; he said nothing."
The last joke elicited a full bellied laugh from Galan. He laughed like a drain that had been plugged up for years finally opened free, and the rest of the men joined in, mostly because of how funny it was to see Galan laugh like that.
"Stop it!" Lyssa said, but even she looked pleased to see Galan so happy.
When dinner was winding down, and the jokes were all spent, Galan announced, "Now, I''m told you''re all going on your first patrol as a Lance tomorrow, is that correct? Unfortunately our quick influx of new members means that I''m unable to see you all in appropriate armor before you leave. You''ll need to make do with what you have now for the time being. But I think I might be able to do something about your weapons. Would you all care to join me in the armory?''
Cid''s Lance was rarely unified on anything, but no one found the need to complain about that idea.
Book 4 - Chapter 31
The guards didn¡¯t challenge Galan at the door, or any of the Lance when they followed him in, though one of the guards gave Marksi a hard look before shaking his head, probably deciding that if Galan didn¡¯t care then he didn¡¯t either. Inside, the high level [Blacksmith] in charge just bowed his head and said, ¡°Sir Galan.¡± It wasn¡¯t Meaty; apparently they had one guy for armor and another for weapons. This was Kartof, a level 50 [Weaponsmith].
Galan nodded to him and indicated that the Lance should line up. Brin couldn¡¯t help joining the rest of the Lance as they goggled at all the weapons in the room. Even the lowest-quality weapons were masterworks according to [Inspect], and some of the weapons were named. ¡°Blood Angel¡± was a beautiful scimitar in a glass case, a mace in the corner was called ¡°Crusher¡±, and a shovel leaning casually to the side was named ¡°Legacy of Gaia¡±.
Value Sense told Brin that armory was almost a misnomer. They should call this place a treasury. The awed expressions of his Lancemates showed that they felt the same. Even Cid and Hedrek were affected, and they¡¯d most likely been in here before.
Marksi focused in on a single weapon immediately. He tapped Brin¡¯s leg with his tail and then pointed a claw at an expensive-looking spear in the corner. Lion¡¯s Bane.
¡°What? No. Shush!¡± Brin whispered down at him.
Galan tapped his chin, considering, while Lyssa tapped her foot, looking bored.
¡°Well, I suppose we can do this in order. Sir Gurthcid, I trust that you¡¯re satisfied with your current weapon?¡± asked Galan.
¡°I am,¡± said Cid, putting his hand on the pommel of his sword. It was a standard arming sword, though Brin realized that he¡¯d never actually seen Cid draw it. If he ever drew a sword at the base it was one of the practice weapons. Brin [Inspected] Cid¡¯s sword.
Legacy of the Trevorrow
Now he really wanted to see it.
¡°I¡¯m satisfied as well, sir,¡± said Hedrek. He also carried an arming sword, and his was a regular masterwork, if a masterwork could ever be called regular.
¡°No. You can keep your current weapon as a sidearm, but I think¡ yes. This one,¡± said Galan.
He stepped over to an enormous greatsword, so long and heavy looking that Brin thought it looked more at place as a cosplay prop. Was Hedrek actually supposed to carry that thing?
Hedrek winced. ¡°With my apologies, sir, I can barely control a regular weapon with my current Skills. Something like that¡¡±
¡°Will be excellent practice for you,¡± Galan finished.
¡°Yes sir. Of course sir,¡± said Hedrek. He looked like he was already warming up to the idea. After all, as the Prinnashians would probably say, what true man didn¡¯t want a big awesome sword?
¡°I had in mind to give Hedrek our lance,¡± said Cid.
¡°Then it will need to pass to someone else. This is out of order, but since you brought it up.¡±
Galan selected a lance from a row of identical lances making up half the wall. It was eight feet long, and made of a metal that gleamed like silver. He handed it to Meredydd.
It was the best choice; Meredydd¡¯s [Armsman] gave him a certain amount of proficiency with any weapon, and if he didn¡¯t want to help them by maintaining their equipment, he could help them by carrying their lance.
It must¡¯ve been heavier than it looked, because when Galan let go, Meredydd gasped in surprise and nearly dropped it.
¡°Now back up to you,¡± said Galan, looking at Brin. ¡°Kartof, I don¡¯t suppose you have something ready for him?¡±
¡°I couldn¡¯t make anything better than that spear in the time I had, but I¡¯ve made some pieces as practice. It was interesting to work with a new element; I do stone now and again, but I¡¯ve never tried my hand at glass. I think you¡¯ll be pleased with the result.¡±
¡°You can make glass?¡± Brin asked. If there had been a glassworks in this keep this whole time and he didn¡¯t know, he would scream.
¡°No,¡± said Kartof. ¡°I requisitioned the parts and then improved them myself. See here.¡±
He drew a wooden case and opened it. Inside were three glass javelins, and now that the case was open Brin could feel that they were brimming with glass magic. He could sense what they were for; these things would destroy whatever he threw them at with extreme prejudice. They were single use, but extremely powerful.
¡°They¡¯re perfect!¡± said Brin. ¡°I figured you wouldn¡¯t be able to work with glass. Is there something you can do with my Bog Standard spear?¡±
Apparently [Weaponsmith] meant any weapon, not just metal.
¡°Leave it here overnight, I¡¯ll see what a little polish and some elbow grease can do.¡±
Next, Galan turned to Rhun. ¡°I believe Cid has informed you of the standard path for a [Knight] in the Order of the Long Sleep? That we take [Blade Mastery] in place of [Iron Body].¡±
¡°He has, sir,¡± said Rhun.
¡°I am told that you still wish to pursue the [Knight] Class,¡± said Galan.
¡°This is so, sir,¡± said Rhun.
Galan nodded. ¡°Very well. Then we must find for you a new path. Other Orders have different Skills, other ways of combining and upgrading the [Warrior] base into Rare or Epic Skills. No one has ever gone so far as to divulge their secrets to me, but you can¡¯t help but pick things up when you fight alongside them. The Order of the Broken Stone, for example, always start their [Squires] off¡ with this.¡±
Galan hefted a tower shield from a rack. It was only half a foot shorter than Rhun¡¯s full height. Galan demonstrated grasping it, using both hands. ¡°Notice that there are two handles on the back. For now, I want you to give up your sword completely and become a pure defender. The path of a shieldbearer isn¡¯t a glamorous one, and you will rarely deal the killing blow. But you can keep your friends alive, and that is worth more than all the gold in Theranor.¡±
Rhun accepted the shield, looking confused, but resolute.
Aeron got a mace, and Anwir was given a bow, though both were told not to neglect mastery of their sidearms.
Brych had his sword replaced with a really cool-looking red messer. The back was serrated and it had a hook on the end. The [Weaponsmith], Kartof, seemed almost apologetic about it. ¡°It¡¯s a real sword. Good steel, I promise. Never mind how it looks.¡±
¡°It looks amazing!¡± Brych said, with stars in his eyes.
Cowl was given a warhammer, though he was told that he should mainly keep to his sidearm until he learned how to use it. [Porter] didn¡¯t have [Blade Mastery] or any weapon training Skills.
Govannon was handed a war axe; it had an axe on one side and a spike on the other for piercing armor. While Cowl accepted his weapon with little interest, Govannon was visibly disgusted with his axe, though thankfully he kept his mouth shut.
It seemed that everyone had a weapon. Cid clapped his hands and said, ¡°Sir Galan, Sir Kartof, let me express my humblest gratitude. I¨C¡±
There was a sudden hiss. Everyone looked down to see Marksi. He¡¯d coiled up around himself, something he rarely did since his snake days, and glared at Galan.
Lyssa hiccuped and then used her hand to cover a smile. Galan folded his arms, looking in concern between Brin and Kartof. ¡°I don¡¯t know if¡ if we should arm him.¡±
Marksi hissed again.
¡°You,¡± Galan corrected. ¡°I assumed dragons favored natural weapons.¡±
Kartof perked up. ¡°No, no, no, he¡¯s right. Let me find him something. Maybe¡ yes! This should work.¡±
The [Weaponsmith] dove behind a desk and pulled out an exotic looking weapon that Brin didn¡¯t know the name for. It was a half-circle band of spikes with a handle completing the other side. Kartof flexed and pulled the handle off with a clink. Then by hand, he bent the solid steel strip of spikes around until it was a complete circle.
He bent down and put the ring over Marksi¡¯s head. It slid down his neck and stopped at his shoulders. A spiked collar.
It didn¡¯t look good on the dragonling at all, but Marksi immediately started purring and uncoiled himself to strut around. He even rubbed against Kartof¡¯s leg and snagged his new spikes on the man¡¯s pant leg.
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Brin made a mental note to get rid of that thing as soon as possible. He was not about to let Marksi jump up on his shoulders wearing that.
¡°Never armed a dragon before!¡± Kartof said, looking pleased. ¡°I didn¡¯t get a level for it, but I bet it was far better experience than arming you greenies.¡±
Cid thanked Galan and Kartof again, and then they went back to their bunkroom, clutching their new weapons like Christmas presents.
The Lance took a long time to get to sleep. Everyone was buzzing with excitement as they retread their dinnertime conversation, talking about things they would miss and things they were looking forward to.
Brin thought it was a little silly, since it¡¯s not like they wouldn¡¯t be back here, but he could understand the excitement. He was ready to get out and have an adventure, too.
Marksi sensed change and decided to sleep on Brin¡¯s bed that night, so Brin made him take off the collar first. Then he hid it under the bed, hoping that Marksi would forget it in the morning.
It didn¡¯t work; Marksi was already wearing it when he woke the next day.
The morning felt surprisingly normal. Servants came to help them don their armor. Cowl packed up his huge backpack like he did every day. Brin made a quick trip to the armory to fetch his spear. They prepared their equipment, keeping the habits they¡¯d gained during the exercises, though this time Meredydd refused to sharpen anyone else¡¯s swords. They ate breakfast and then went out to get their horses; all of that could¡¯ve been like any other day.
But then, instead of riding in a circle around the keep, Cid led them north. They rode straight from the keep and across the flat plains and parallel to the mountains, further than they¡¯d ever been, until the keep was just a tiny speck in the distance.
They rode at a quick trot, just under what could be called a gallop, and the horses never made any sign that the pace made them the least bit tired. The sun rose in the sky, they paused for lunch, and the sun started climbing back down.
Brin began to hope that the excitement and shared purpose of being on a patrol might get the men to stop bickering, but at dinnertime he was proven wrong.
Cowl decided to make stew, something warm and hearty for their first day out in the wilderness. He set up the fire himself, added the ingredients, and then slowly stirred, waiting for it to be done.
Soon the succulent smell filled the campsite, and Brin¡¯s stomach growled. He wasn¡¯t the only one. Many anxious glances were cast in Cowl''s direction, but he ignored them all and continued to stir.
The stew started to boil in places. Surely it was hot enough now? But still Cowl ignored everyone¡¯s desperate starvation and kept lazily stirring.
Govannon stood and marched over to Cowl¡¯s bag. He grabbed a bowl and went to the pot, aiming to ignore Cowl¡¯s stirring spoon and scoop some stew out with the bowl.
Cowl grabbed Govannon¡¯s hand. ¡°No.¡±
Govannon smiled greasily. ¡°Come on. I¡¯m just going to¨C¡±
¡°It¡¯s not done.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t care how it tastes, I just want to¨C,¡± Govannon leaned into it, trying to push his way past Cowl, but Cowl held him in place. The meek [Porter] was a lot stronger than he let on.
Govannon took a step back, and then jumped forward to bash into Cowl, but Cowl stepped forward and pushed Govannon back.
Govannon was off balance, and didn¡¯t even see the right hook coming, which clanged against his helmet and knocked him to the ground.
Honestly, Brin was impressed. He didn¡¯t think Cowl had it in him.
Govannon was on his feet in an instant, but Aeron and Anwir grabbed both of his arms, pulling him back and putting an end to the fight.
Govannon struggled. ¡°Let me¨C!¡±
¡°No!¡± Cid said sharply. ¡°Stand down. Go cool off.¡±
¡°Sorry, sir,¡± said Cowl.
¡°You, too. Take a seat. I¡¯ll finish supper.¡±
¡°It¡¯s not done!¡±
¡°You can let me know when it¡¯s done, but I¡¯m finishing it,¡± said Cid.
Govannon kept struggling against Aeron and Anwir. ¡°He¡ he¡¡±
¡°Stop!¡± Brin barked, remembering that he was the Second. ¡°You will not ignore your Prime¡¯s orders. You will leave this camp immediately. You will not return until you have calmed down!¡±
Govannon dropped his arms, turned, and stomped away from camp.
Brin met Cid¡¯s eyes with a wince of apology. Cid shouldn¡¯t have had to step in there, that was Brin¡¯s job. Cid¡¯s eyes stayed stern for a moment, then they turned questioning. Brin pointed at himself, and Cid nodded. One of them should go talk to Govannon, and it should be Brin. This was probably a strict drill master conversation.
He didn¡¯t go right away. Instead, he waited for dinner to be ready, and ate his stew, sharing it liberally with Marksi. Marksi often ate what he hunted or foraged, but the empty fields didn¡¯t have much for him and he didn¡¯t care for rodents.
Govannon didn¡¯t return during dinner, and Cowl set a bowl out for him on a tall stone where no one would accidentally step on it.
After dinner, Brin walked out and found Govannon. He found the [Page] a few dozen yards away, thumbing his axe and staring hard at Cowl.
Brin chose not to believe that Govannon was plotting Cowl¡¯s murder. His illusions were great for spying, but they didn¡¯t have the ability to suss out someone¡¯s inner thoughts.
He said, ¡°What¡¯s wrong with a war axe, anyway?¡±
Govannon startled at the sound. Brin hadn¡¯t been invisible, but after Hogg¡¯s training he was always in the habit of walking quietly.
¡°It¡¯s stupid,¡± said Govannon.
¡°No. Is good weapon!¡± said Brin, leaning a little more heavily into his accent.
¡°It¡¯s a weapon for stupid people. It¡¯s easy to use,¡± said Govannon.
¡°Spears are easy to use, too,¡± said Brin.
¡°I know,¡± said Govannon with a sneer.
¡°Someone told me once: The sword you learn in a year and master in two years. The spear you learn in a week and master in a lifetime. Maybe axes are the same.¡± Brin couldn¡¯t actually remember where he¡¯d heard that. Was it something he¡¯d heard as Mark? He definitely hadn¡¯t heard it from Hogg. He would probably laugh himself hoarse if he heard Brin say something like that.
¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ll never get ahead. If I wanted to be popular I¡¯d be a mean, angry idiot like Hedrek. Nice guys¨C¡±
¡°Nice guys!¡± Brin spat. He didn¡¯t have to pretend to be the drill sergeant this time; Govannon was really starting to get on his nerves. ¡°Nice guys? Who is nice guy? You? Tell me, please. Please tell me, Gov, who are you nice to? You think you are nice guy. Pfaw! You are not nice. You are mean, you are angry, and you are idiot. At least Hedrek is strong. Are you strong? You are not. You are four things. Mean, angry, idiot, and weak.¡±
Brin took a breath. He hadn¡¯t meant to go that far, and if anything he wanted to go further. ¡°Now I will take my Prime''s advice and leave until I calm down.¡± He couldn¡¯t resist one last sarcastic ¡°Nice guy¡± putting so much derision into the words that they were palpable.
He stomped away and when he got back to camp, face still flushed with anger, he saw Govannon¡¯s bowl of stew, now cold.
The anger drained away from his face, replaced by guilt. He¡¯d handled that horribly.
He watched Govannon with an Invisible Eye. The teenager seemed to be struggling with himself, but eventually he calmed, set his face in determination, and walked back to camp.
When he got back, he saw the bowl that had been left for him, and his features softened. Whatever recriminations he¡¯d been saving up died on his lips and when he spoke his voice was mild. ¡°Hey, listen guys, I¨C¡±
Hedrek stood, shaking with fury. ¡°WHAT¡¯S WRONG WITH YOU? YOU THINK YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE THAT WAS HUNGRY? WE WERE ALL HUNGRY! AND YOU, YOU THINK¨C¡±
¡°Stand down, Hedrek!¡± Brin shouted.
¡°He¨C!¡±
¡°I said stand down!¡±
Hedrek sat in a huff.
Govannon thankfully didn¡¯t respond. He sat on the ground and grabbed his bowl. Eating angrily and glaring at everyone. Whatever chance at healing they might¡¯ve had was gone.
Brin looked at Cid and mouthed the words, ¡°Talk to him.¡±
Cid sighed, then stood and said. ¡°We¡¯ll only have two watches tonight. Brin and Govannon take first watch. Hedrek and I will take second watch.
¡°Yes, sir,¡± said Brin, and Hedrek and Govannon grunted their agreement.
That night, Brin made several attempts to draw Govannon into a conversation, whispering observations about the weather, comments about weapons, and then even a few jokes.
Govannon ignored all of it, staying completely silent throughout their shift. Brin almost told the [Page] to go to bed early. After all, with his Invisible Eyes and darkvision, there was no chance of anything sneaking up on them. But they didn¡¯t know that, and keeping watch was good experience for when they didn¡¯t have a resident [Illusionist].
He eventually gave up and stayed in his own head, tinkering with his illusions until their shift ended.
On the next shift, Cid and Hedrek walked a space off and then Cid activated the enchantment on his helm to have a private conversation. Brin didn¡¯t bother trying to circumvent it; Hogg said that the best way to pretend to not know something was to actually not know it. He didn¡¯t need to know the exact details of this conversation. Also, he really doubted that anything Cid could say would actually help.
The next morning, they went through their routine. They set up camp, ate hard biscuits for breakfast, and those not on watch donned their armor.
Govannon immediately started in on Hedrek when the big [Knight] tied the straps on his boots. ¡°That¡¯s wrong, you know! You¡¯re such an idiot. You can¡¯t even tie your shoes!¡±
To everyone¡¯s surprise, Hedrek didn¡¯t take the bait. ¡°If you say so, sir Govannon, then it must be true.¡±
Later, they were back riding and Cid called back, ¡°We¡¯ll pass Fortmouth tomorrow morning.¡±
Govannon shouted back, ¡°We know that! We aren¡¯t all dumb as Hedrek.¡±
Hedrek calmly responded, ¡°Sir Govannon, how can you repeat only this one when I have so many other faults to choose from?¡±
That line sounded like something straight out of Cid¡¯s mouth. By Solia, he¡¯d talked to Hedrek, and it had actually worked.
Perhaps sensing that Hedrek wouldn¡¯t rise to his provocation, Govannon switched strategies. He rode up next to Aeron, and started talking about how an honorable [Warrior] like him would never be able to fully trust a [Rogue] like Brych.
When Aeron disagreed, Govannon slowed his horse until he was next to Brych and started talking about how a bow was a coward''s weapon. Brych complained that the sun glinting off Govannon¡¯s armor was getting in his eyes, and trotted his horse ahead.
Brin knew what Govannon was trying to do. He was desperately trying to get one of the knights to side with him against someone else in a desperate bid to make someone else the most unpopular person in the Lance.
In another life, Brin might¡¯ve figured that sometimes the guys that get bullied the worst were the ones who wanted to be bullies but couldn¡¯t because they just weren¡¯t cool enough. Actually, he had thought that about someone, a kid named Rudolph Hansen, and Mark had goaded him into punching him in the face and getting him expelled. He had deserved it, sure, but that didn¡¯t mean that there wasn¡¯t another way.
Govannon needed a friend. As soon as the guys saw someone regularly talking to Govannon and not hating the experience, they¡¯d find it easier to be around him. Brin didn¡¯t want that person to have to be him, though. Maybe Brych? Or maybe Cid could convince Hedrek to do it?
He wasn¡¯t any closer to a solution when they went to bed that night. If they¡¯d pressed, they probably could¡¯ve made it to Llanifer and stayed the night in an inn with their horses in a stable, but Cid didn¡¯t want to reward the Lance with a trip to town right now.
They stayed a few miles away, with the city lantern lights glittering in the distance. Brin wasn¡¯t given the watch that night, but he kept some directed threads running to keep watch.
Those were touch and go. Sometimes they could keep watch the whole night while he slept, but sometimes they returned for no reason, and he didn¡¯t know why.
In the morning, Brin woke to shouts of alarm. He figured that his directed threads had all returned, because there was real worry in the men¡¯s voices. Then he realized that was wrong. His threads were still running; he could still pull up screens to watch through their eyes.
He forced the threads to all return so he could see their memories, and sure enough, they¡¯d followed his orders and not let anything approach the camp. They had no orders for what to do is someone left the camp.
¡°He¡¯s gone!¡± he heard someone say.
They were right; being around exactly ten guys for so long gave him an instinct for when one was missing. There were nine.
When he got his hands on Govannon, he¡¯d¡ but no. Govannon was right there. Someone else was missing.
Meredydd had snuck away during the night.
Book 4 - Chapter 32
Meredydd¡¯s beautiful enchanted lance was still leaning against Cowl¡¯s oversized backpack on the ground with the other weapons. Brin could only assume that whatever reason he had to leave was something about money, so why wouldn¡¯t he take his most valuable possession?
Cid clinked his fingernails against the steel of his helmet, the sign of someone stressed who wanted to run his fingers through his hair and couldn¡¯t. He dropped his hand and said, ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll go fetch him. Anwir, do you think you can track him?¡±
¡°Uh¡¡± said Anwir.
¡°He can¡¯t, not if he went to the city,¡± said Brin. He knew that from the [Hunters] in Hammon¡¯s Bog. Unless you were Lurilan, [Tracking] completely failed in a busy street.
¡°I know my way around Fortmouth. I¡¯m from here, too,¡± said Brych. ¡°And Meredydd told me he¡¯s from Sickside. If he went home, I can find him.¡±
Brin kept forgetting that most of these guys were locals here in Prinnash. He hadn¡¯t actually asked any of them where they were from more specifically, mostly because none of the names would mean anything to him.
¡°What¡¯s Sickside?¡± asked Cid.
¡°It¡¯s the neighborhood closest to the river bordering Arcaena. Everyone gets sick there more often,¡± said Brych.
Cid sniffed, like he was already suffering from a runny nose in anticipation. ¡°Very well. You and I will enter Fortmouth. The rest of you will find a suitable place to make camp.¡±
Brin agreed with that decision, because bringing all of these wildcards into the city right now felt like a recipe for disaster, but there also wasn¡¯t a good place to make camp. The smartest thing would be to ride closer to the city and camp out under one of the small copses that direction. Looking the other way, there was one outcropping of rock that was high enough to maybe provide some shade. It would have to do.
¡°Take Marksi with you. He¡¯s good at finding people,¡± said Brin. Marksi had a nose much better than a human¡¯s, but he wasn¡¯t exactly a bloodhound. More important was the fact that he could follow them with illusions and then use Silent Voice to tell Marksi if he saw anything.
¡°Very well. Come along, then,¡± said Cid. He looked uncomfortable talking directly to the dragonling, probably wondering how much Marksi understood. He patted his thigh, the way you would to call a dog over.
Marksi chirped in happiness on getting to join the adventure and scampered over. He bobbed up and down like he wanted to jump up on Cid¡¯s horse with him, but didn¡¯t know if that was allowed.
¡°Um¡ I¡ um¡¡± said Cid.
¡°Oh, hop up here!¡± said Brych. ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to do this!¡±
Marksi switched targets and easily leapt up onto the back of Brych¡¯s horse, careful to grab the leather of the saddle and not scratch Faith¡¯s hide. He didn¡¯t stop there, and kept climbing up until he was perched on Brych¡¯s shoulders. He looked a little odd up there; Brych was shorter than even Brin, though he was a bit stockier, and Marksi was about like a mid-sized dog with a long tail. Honestly, Brin probably looked a little strange with Marksi on his shoulders these days as well, but with high Strength the weight wasn¡¯t really an issue. He felt a little nostalgia for the days when Marksi had fit easily into the hood of his jacket.
Cid and Brych rode towards the city, and Brin led the rest of them back towards the stone outcropping. Surprisingly, there were no complaints. In the shadow of Meredydd¡¯s desertion, no one else wanted to stick their heads up as being insubordinate.
They stopped, watered the horses with skins from Cowl¡¯s backpack, but Brin didn¡¯t order them to make camp yet, not until he had a better idea of whether or not they¡¯d really be here all day.
He sat down under a boulder in the shade, and then pulled his Fire Jelly Core from a pocket in his coat; one nice thing about not being entirely encased in steel was that he could still use pockets.
¡°I¡¯m going to tinker with this artifact,¡± Brin called to the men. ¡°If I tell you that you can all do as you wish today, so long as you do not wander too far from camp, can I trust that no one will do anything idiotic? No one else, I mean.¡±
¡°Yes, sir,¡± said Hedrek.
¡°You can, sir,¡± said Govannon.
Brin narrowed his eyes. ¡°Good.¡±
He created a small army of directed threads running Invisible Eyes and sent them all in the direction of Fortmouth.
The Fire Jelly Core was mostly an excuse for why he¡¯d be sitting here doing nothing for hours, but that didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t do anything with it. It seemed to be able to suck up endless amounts of Light magic; he hadn¡¯t found the limit. How strong would the laser attack be if he charged it for a whole day, or two days? It had quite a bit of Mana in it already from other odd times that he¡¯d thought to charge it.
He started feeding it Mana and then focused on his Invisible Eyes. In addition to being able to pull up a screen for him to watch, his Task Manager now made audio feeds so he could listen instead of reading transcribed text.
The beginning part of Cid and Brych¡¯s journey wasn¡¯t very exciting. Brych asked, ¡°So what do you think he¡¯s doing?¡±
¡°I fear I could not hazard a guess,¡± said Cid.
¡°What will you do when you find him?¡±
¡°I¡¯ll need to decide that when I know why he left, and not before.¡±
Perhaps sensing that Cid wasn¡¯t in the mood to talk, Brych turned his attention to Marksi. ¡°You know, Brin talks to you like you understand him, but I¡¯m not so sure,¡± said Brych.
Marksi didn¡¯t respond.
¡°Do you understand what I¡¯m saying?¡±
Marksi shook his head.
Brin snorted a laugh. Marksi understood, he just thought that talking was a waste of time so he¡¯d prefer to go without. You didn¡¯t need speech to hunt forest creatures, lie in sunbeams coming through the window, or snatch the best bite of meat off someone''s plate. So what good really was it? Marksi could communicate when he was in need of scritches perfectly well without it.
¡°Does¡ does that mean he does understand me?¡± Brych asked, looking at Cid.
Cid said, ¡°I doubt it. I¡¯ve heard that only very ancient dragons understand human speech.¡±
Marksi nodded in agreement.
¡°But see? See what he did there?¡± asked Brych.
¡°It¡¯s like the horses at the carnivals. You know when [Beast Masters] bring them out and claim they have human intelligence? The horses are really only good at picking up on their master¡¯s emotions, so they know to nod or shake their head when their master wants them to.¡±
¡°The smart horses are fake, too?¡± Brych asked, appalled. ¡°Is everything a lie?¡±
Marksi patted him on the shoulder, consolingly.
¡°Hey, what is that thing?¡± Cowl asked Brin, bringing Brin¡¯s focus back to his body.
If it was anyone else, Brin would ignore them, but Cowl was cool. Also it was rare for the [Porter] to take the initiative to start a conversation with someone, so Brin should probably encourage this.
¡°Want to see?¡± Brin put the core inside the laser frame, opening and sealing it with glass magic.
He noticed the other men in the Lance crowding around, and sensed that they might have put Cowl up to this in the first place. Well, too late.
¡°I need a target,¡± said Brin.
Cowl¡¯s eyebrows rose. ¡°That¡¯s a weapon?¡±
They looked around for something worth shooting, but the empty plains didn¡¯t offer much in the way of shootables. Anwir found a good-sized tumbleweed and they decided that would be good enough.
Brin moved ten feet away from it, close enough that he was sure he¡¯d be able to hit it on the first try.
He lifted his weapon like a phaser from Star Trek, pointed, and just to give it that extra bit of oomph, said, ¡°.¡±
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He shot one quick pulse, then stopped it again. The laser was nearly silent, just a soft puff sound and a beam of red light, none too bright in the daylight. A bit of smoke rose from the tumbleweed was the only sign it had been impacted.
¡°Whoa,¡± said Hedrek.
¡°What happened?¡± asked Cowl.
¡°Look,¡± said Anwir.
They stepped up to the tumbleweed, and on closer inspection could see that a golf ball sized hole had burned straight through the brush.
¡°That¡¯s a fire beam wand?¡± Cowl asked.
¡°Close enough,¡± Brin said with a grin. He couldn¡¯t help adding, ¡°My own invention. I can charge it with magic, then let it all out at once.¡±
¡°Then that¡¯s how much power you get for charging it for a half hour?¡± asked Hedrek. ¡°Then how strong would it be if you charged it all day?¡± asked Hedrek.
¡°That¡¯s what I want to know. I¡¯m thinking, if I have to sit around all day waiting anyway¡¡±
That was enough to convince the men that what Brin was doing was very important and shouldn¡¯t be disturbed.
Soon, Cid and Brych reached the city. There was a long line leading to the city gates, and Brych mentioned that it was only like that because of the war. Usually the gates were wide open, but now only one door large enough to get a cart through was open and guards questioned everyone who came through.
Brych moved to get in line, but Cid simply rode to the front and they were let through without question.
¡°Should we find a place for our horses?¡± suggested Brych.
¡°Let us travel to Sickside first, and then find something,¡± said Cid.
¡°Sickside isn¡¯t really a great place for horses,¡± said Brych.
Cid raised an eyebrow, and Brych waved with his hands. ¡°No, it¡¯s not as bad as all that, it¡¯s only¡ animals can get sick, too.¡±
Cid nodded. ¡°Then we¡¯ll stable them here.¡±
They found a reputable-looking inn who took the horses into their stable and promised that for [Knights] it was free of charge. Then the two of them made their way across the city.
Brin¡¯s Invisible Eyes cast a wide net around the two knights, and he eventually noticed something strange. There were five men that always seemed to be somewhere nearby. They didn¡¯t have unusual Classes for this country, a [Fist-fighting Baker], a [Spear-wielding Fisherman] and the like, but their casual walk through the city always seemed to match where Cid and Brych were going.
¡°You¡¯re being followed,¡± Brin told Marksi. ¡°To your right.¡±
Marksi leapt off Brych¡¯s shoulders.
¡°Hey wait!¡±
Marksi ignored Brych¡¯s shouts and darted down the street. Brin pointed out three of the five men to him, and when he was sure Marksi knew their faces, let Marksi return to the knights.
Marksi jumped up and tapped Brych¡¯s shoulders, pointing towards the followers with his tail.
¡°I know! Shush!¡± Brych whispered back.
Well, if Brych knew they were being followed, it was probably fine, right? Brin had a hard time believing that, but he couldn¡¯t keep going around suspecting all of his Lancemates as traitors, could he? No, just the [Rogue]. And he didn¡¯t have to be a traitor to be up to no good.
¡°Tell Cid,¡± Brin said to Marksi.
Marksi tried the same with Cid, tapping his leg and pointing towards the side-street with his tail.
¡°Hm? What¡¯s he doing?¡±
¡°I think he saw something that spooked him in that direction. We should probably avoid it,¡± said Brych.
¡°Let¡¯s go check it out,¡± said Cid.
They did, but of course, the men following them left before they got there. Marksi tried pointing them in the direction they¡¯d gone, urging them to run this time. ¡°He¡¯s leading us in circles,¡± Brych complained.
Cid sighed. ¡°You¡¯re right. Lead on towards Sickside.¡±
Brin growled in frustration. Should he head over there? Then what would he tell the Lance? For now he¡¯d wait and see. If Brych really was leading Cid into some kind of trap, well, Cid wasn¡¯t exactly a weakling. And if all else failed, Brin could reveal his illusions and turn Cid invisible to get him out of there.
Eventually, they reached Sickside. It wasn¡¯t what Brin expected, and yet he knew it immediately when he saw it. The area wasn¡¯t richer or poorer than the neighborhoods around it. Prinnashian¡¯s liked to build with stone, and that was the case here as well.
The difference was how clean everything was. The streets and even the gutters were pristine, as if they¡¯d been swept five times a day. Doorknobs, windows, walls, he couldn¡¯t see a speck of grime on anything. Even the people looked cleaner. Normal people in this world washed themselves with a cloth and basin once a week, and did laundry once a month, but there was a freshness to the look of the people on the streets that made Brin think their hygiene habits were more like what he was used to from Earth.
Cid had the same observation, and Brych explained. ¡°They¡¯re afraid of getting sick. The [Physicians], [Herbalists], [Nurses], and such all say that disease comes from uncleanliness, so they¡¯re really strict about it.¡±
¡°I often hear that the worst diseases spring up from the water,¡± said Cid.
¡°They¡¯re real strict with their wells and fountains here, sir. They sanitize them once a day, and then boil the water again whenever they can. Lots of soup and tea here in Sickside,¡± said Brych.
Brin sent his Invisible Eyes scouring the neighborhood in every direction, though neighborhood was the wrong word for it. This district alone was larger than Hammon¡¯s Bog, both in population and size. He could add more Invisible Eyes, but it might still take him days to find Meredydd in this mess.
¡°Wait. I think I hear his voice!¡± said Brych. ¡°I do!¡±
The [Rogue] dashed ahead, with Cid and Marksi trailing him. He turned a corner and kept running, scanning the names of the businesses with his eyes. That was suspicious. Why was he searching so closely if he was following his ears.
Brych stopped in front of a building with a large embellished sign reading, ¡°Botts Foundry and Craft.¡±
¡°I think he¡¯s in here,¡± said Brych. ¡°Botts Foundry and Craft¡ come to think of it, Meredydd mentioned this place. I think his family works for these guys?¡±
Brin was certain that Brych had known this was their destination the whole time, and wanted to make it look like he found it by accident. He was beginning to think that Meredydd had told him where he was going in case he didn¡¯t return. After all, how could an [Armsman] really sneak away from anyplace that was being guarded by a [Rogue]?
Cid nodded. ¡°Then let us enter.¡±
Brin sent an Invisible Eye ahead into the building. Inside, there were only seven men, and one of them was Meredydd. Their [Armsman] was stripped of his armor and tied to a chair. Two [Warriors] stood next to him, guarding him, but the rest of the men were [Merchants]. A well-fed [Merchant] in fine robes seemed to be the leader, and [Inspected] as Cenydd Botts.
The door banged open and Cid entered. The men reeled in shock, and Brin let out a mental sigh of relief; this wasn¡¯t an ambush. The [Merchants] hadn¡¯t been expecting him.
¡°What is the meaning of this?¡± Cid shouted.
¡°Ein! Mab!¡± Botts shouted the name of the two [Warriors], but neither of them seemed keen on confronting the threat.
Marksi darted forward and immediately began cutting away Meredydd¡¯s restraints with his claws. One of the [Warriors] tried to grab him, but the dragonling evaded his grasping hands so easily it was as if he barely noticed the attempt.
¡°Brych, mind the door. See that no one leaves,¡± said Cid.
Botts stepped back and then tripped onto his bottom. ¡°W-w-wait! This isn¡¯t our whole company! Even without those of us here, this man¡¯s family¡¡±
Cid folded his arms. ¡°Continue.¡±
Botts opened his mouth, but no words came out, pinned in place by Cid¡¯s glare.
¡°Go on, please. You were about to threaten the family of one of my knights-at-arms, correct? While he is out protecting your realm, you were talking about how you were going to misuse and abuse his family, is this not so?¡±
¡°No! Not at all! I¨C¡±
¡°Is a [Knight] of the Order of the Long Sleep to be addressed in such a way?¡± asked Cid.
¡°Of course not, sir. My apologies, sir. I only thought to say that if you were to resort to violence, then¨C¡±
¡°Have I been violent? I am here to speak as a man among men, regarding my subordinate knight¡¯s current situation. Is this not my right?¡±
¡°Then, he truly is a knight,¡± said Botts. The other [Merchants] were pale-faced, and the two [Warriors] looked like they were going to be sick.
¡°I told you that!¡± said Meredydd, then hushed at a glare from Cid.
¡°That was our mistake, sir, and I apologize, but he wears plain steel. That¡¯s not the armor of a knight¨C¡±
¡°Yes, I see. While you [Merchants] hoard your wealth, the true men who defend you are left to work with subpar equipment. Please, tell me more. After you¡¯re done threatening my man¡¯s family, I¡¯d like to hear more about that.¡±
Botts licked his lips. ¡°We can work this out peacefully.¡±
¡°That¡¯s what I was trying to do! Cid, sir, please understand I thought I¡¯d be back before morning. I had enough to pay my family¡¯s debt, but when I got here they said it wasn¡¯t enough any more and took my sword and armor.¡±
¡°Let me see the contract,¡± said Cid.
¡°The contract is between me and the head of the household,¡± said Botts.
¡°If you can hold Meredydd in your custody for a debt, then he has a right to see the contract,¡± Cid said.
Botts pretended to moan and groan as he went over to his desk to find the contract, but Brin thought he looked like he was gaining confidence. Now that it didn¡¯t look like there was going to be a fight he probably thought he had the upper hand.
He laid it on a table in front of Cid, and said, ¡°Now, sir, as you can see, we clearly have the right to¨C¡±
Cid raised a finger to silence him and stared at the contract. After a moment he said, ¡°This contract is unfair and probably illegal. I¡¯ll have you strike this section, and this one here. Yes, I think that would be best.¡±
Botts licked his lips. ¡°I assure you that this was approved with city hall and looked over by the finest solicitors. If I were to remove the restitution clause¨C¡±
Cid slapped the table. ¡°Master [Merchant], please understand. I am being reasonable, but I have no intention on negotiating with you, and I find you repugnant and your presence is detestable. You will make the alterations and sign immediately. If this is to be a drawn out process, if I am required to involve solicitors and city hall, then I assure you that you will end up with terms that are much more unfavorable.¡±
Sion had warned Brin that [Knights] and [Warriors] could just bowl straight through [Merchants] here in Prinnash, but for once he was happy to see it happen. The contract was signed, and Cid extracted promises that Meredydd¡¯s family would be extremely well treated going forward. He offered silver to pay off any debt the family owed, but the [Merchant] assured him that no such debt remained.
Meredydd donned his armor and took back his sword, and walked sheepishly out of the building, a free man.
Cid sent Brych ahead, ostensibly to prepare the horses, but really because he wanted to speak to Meredydd alone.
¡°I¡¯m so, so sorry, sir,¡± said Meredydd.
¡°Save it,¡± Cid snapped.
¡°You didn¡¯t have to do that for me. You shouldn¡¯t have had to,¡± said Meredydd.
¡°Incorrect. It¡¯s my responsibility as Prime to look after my men.¡±
¡°It¡¯s not really your job to fix our personal problems,¡± said Meredydd.
¡°It¡¯s not my job? That¡¯s the excuse of a [Merchant], it¡¯s not the philosophy of a [Knight]. When I took this command, I took up the call to do all I can in every respect. I do not seek out ways to avoid my duty, I seek means to accomplish it more fully.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll sharpen everyone¡¯s weapons,¡± said Meredydd. ¡°Every day.¡±
¡°Oh you will, will you? How generous!¡± Cid said. Then he sighed. ¡°Well, thank you for the offer, but no thank you. That¡¯s not what I want.¡±
¡°It¡¯s not? But I¡¯m an [Armsman],¡± said Meredydd.
¡°Each member of the Lance should be capable of maintaining his own equipment, I see no issue in having them stay in practice. No, what I want is more than that. I want someone to take responsibility for our arms, to¨C¡±
Unfortunately, Brin didn¡¯t get to hear the rest of the speech. He was interrupted, very rudely, by his Death Sense.
Unless he found a way to avoid it, something was going to kill him. He looked down with his regular eyes to the Fire Jelly core in his hands. It was pulsing an ominous red. He¡¯d overfilled it.
¡°Crap.¡±
He flung the core away and was instantly deafened and blinded by the explosion. His consciousness fled only a moment later.
Book 4 - Chapter 33
Lucidity came back to Brin slowly, along with pain. His face was aching and throbbing with burns and he couldn''t hear or see anything. Without his two primary senses it would be hard to tell that he was even conscious if not for the fact that his magic still responded to his call.
He summoned two Invisible Eyes right on top of his regular eyes, and the world snapped back into focus.
"--you alright?" Cowl was looking down at him.
"Mmf. I''m fine," said Brin. Taking stock, the parts of his body covered by the armor were fine, which included his hands. He touched his face, and saw that Cowl had placed a damp cloth on them. He wasn''t sure if it was soaked with water or something else; all he could smell was smoke.
"What was that?" asked Hedrek, pushing Cowl aside.
"I... I wanted to see if there was a limit to how much Mana it could hold."
"You sure you''re ok?" asked Hedrek.
"Yeah. No problem. I''m fine," said Brin.
"Good! Then we can skip straight to giving you a hard time! What in the world were you thinking?"
Brin groaned.
"Hey guys. Guys. Do you remember our orders? Somebody said something about how the only rule was that we shouldn¡¯t do something stupid. Do you remember that?¡±
¡°I seem to remember something like that,¡± said Aeron.
¡°Who was it that gave that order? Does anyone remember?¡± asked Hedrek.
They all laughed.
"I don¡¯t recall," said Brin. "Hey, do you think there''s any chance you guys are going to forget to mention this to Cid?"
"Oh no," said Hedrek, laughing. "No there most certainly is not."
Brin groaned again. He tried to be good-natured about the ribbing, but he wasn''t quite as ''fine'' as he kept saying. His natural hearing and vision weren''t coming back, and his face really hurt.
"Did anyone see... is anything left of the Core?"
Anwir stepped forward, holding the Core, broken into two pieces. The two jagged ends of the broken core were blackened and melted. "It was a fairly clean break, all things considered. Popped straight in half."
He tried filling them with Mana again, and it took to it much less cleanly, like he was pushing it through a plugged filter. At least they still accepted it. Maybe he''d be able to get a [Gemsmith] to recombine them. That, or make two smaller ones.
Brin sighed.
"Was it very valuable?" asked Anwir.
"Kind of. It was a gift from my... father. It was really hard to find," said Brin.
"Alright, leave him alone. He needs rest," said Cowl.
Physically, Brin could probably stand and walk without trouble, but he was glad for the excuse, because he wanted to check back in with Cid, Meredydd, and Brych. Part of it was worry for them, but mostly he needed to distract himself away from his own body. There was a rising panic starting in his chest and climbing up his throat and he needed to think about something else before he starting screaming or blubbering or both.
His eyes¡ Sure, he could make do with illusion magic, but what if¡? No. He needed to think about something else.
All the directed threads he''d made earlier had returned with his sudden injury so he had to make new ones with new Invisible Eyes. By the time they reached the city, Meredydd and Cid had crossed half the town.
"Oh wow!" Meredydd suddenly said. "I can''t... I can''t believe it!"
Cid looked for the danger, his eyes darting everywhere. "What is it?"
"A notification. My [Knightly] Achievement just upgraded. And my Class. I can upgrade it! It''s offering me [Squire of Arms]!" Meredydd gazed at his status screen, invisible to everyone else, in a state of ecstatic shock.
Cid put a hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations."
Is that all that was missing? The men were already acting as knights, so the [Squire] Class should be a shoe-in. If Meredydd was any indication, all they were missing was true dedication to the Lance and the Order, rather than just taking the job out of convenience.
Brin decided to check on Brych. Cid had told him to go prepare the horses, but now that his threads had returned he saw that one of them had seen the direction Brych was heading in before the explosion, and it hadn''t been towards the horses.
Brin sent a small army of Invisible Eyes to scour the area. Looking in the direction he¡¯d seen the [Rogue] leave, he searched the poorest, seediest sections of town first.
He found the [Rogue] winding his way through a back alley. The four men Brin had seen following their group earlier were with him, two in front and two behind.
¡°You¡¯re sure Mab just wants to talk?¡± asked Brych.
¡°Like I said, just a quick little chat,¡± said the [Spear-wielding Fisherman].
¡°Then can¡¯t we go straight there? I¡¯ll need to get back to my Prime before he gets suspicious,¡± said Brych.
¡°If you¡¯re so worried about that, then you never should¡¯ve come back here,¡± said the thug.
¡°Or you never should¡¯ve left in the first place,¡± said the [Fist-Fighting Baker] from behind Brych.
It looked like Meredydd wasn¡¯t the only person with a troublesome past in this city. Brin didn¡¯t like where this was going. He mentally checked back in with the Invisible Eye watching Marksi, and said using Silent Voice, ¡°Hey, Brych is in trouble. You need to get them to follow you. I can guide you.¡±
Marksi nodded and scampered in front of the two knights motioning for them to stop. He started squeaking furiously and pointing.
¡°What? What¡¯s he want?¡± asked Meredydd.
¡°He probably smells something he wants to eat,¡± said Cid.
Marksi hissed and turned in a circle, furious, and then crossed his arms, pouting.
¡°That¡¯s not it? What do you want, Marksi?¡± Meredydd asked.
Marksi pointed at Cid, then Meredydd, and then down in the direction of Brych.
¡°Are you looking for something? Food?¡± asked Meredydd.
Marksi nodded to the first question, and then shook his head to the second.
¡°Maybe he really does understand us. Then you¡¯re looking for something? Brych?¡±
Marksi nodded furiously and then pointed again.
¡°No,¡± said Cid. ¡°Brych went to get the horses.¡±
Marksi hissed. Brin could sense that this was about the end of how far Marksi was willing to go for this. As a rule, he hated trying to communicate with stupid humans.
Brin tried to copy Brych¡¯s voice and make a sound like ¡°help!¡± just barely loud enough for Meredydd and Cid to hear. It didn¡¯t come out very well, but it struck Cid like a lightning bolt.
Cid¡¯s eyes firmed. ¡°You can find him?¡±
Rather than answer, Marksi took off down the street. The knights followed.
Brin guided Marksi with vocal direction. ¡°Left. Right. Straight here. Keep going. Left, and then you¡¯ll see him.¡±
Meanwhile, Brin saw that the thugs that Brych was with were leading him to a group of twenty more men. He figured they¡¯d been leading the [Rogue] around in circles while they called all their guys together. This was a trap.
A trap for a [Rogue], though? How would that work? Brych could hear the heartbeat of a fieldmouse in its den if he was anything like Zilly. He looked closer at the men hiding in wait, and listened. He really listened and heard¡ nothing. That many guys together were never that silent. He bet some kind of Skill was obscuring them.
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One older man with an open shirt and a belt made of daggers seemed to be the leader. [Inspect] told Brin he was a [Field Hand] which just meant he had a really good [Hide Status].
Marksi, Cid, and Meredydd were about to catch up, and he could see the gang leader watching them, even though he was two blocks away and there were three buildings in the way. He had [Rogue] senses, too. Brin had them go the long way around, making it look like they were running towards something else.
Then he used illusion magic to silence the three of them and have them wrap back around. Hopefully in all the excitement they wouldn¡¯t notice how quiet their footsteps were all of a sudden.
It worked perfectly. The gang leader turned his attention back to the approaching Brych.
¡°Well, well, well. The lost lamb finally returns.¡±
¡°Mab, I can explain,¡± said Brych. ¡°If this is about the artifact, I can replace it. Even better, I¡¯m in a Lance now! I can¨C¡±
Mab tsked. ¡°No, my boy, you know me well enough by now to know that¡¯s not how I operate. I don¡¯t take gold or barter for this kind of debt. Only blood will do.¡±
¡°How interesting,¡± said Cid.
Several of the gang audibly gasped as a [Knight] in shining armor seemingly materialized out of thin air. Unlike Brych, his armor wasn¡¯t simple steel. Unlike Brych, he didn¡¯t look like a boy playing at being a [Knight]. He looked like an angel of death.
Brin might¡¯ve been using his illusion magic to give him an extra bit of gleam, to make his eyes just a tad colder, and make his voice pierce the surroundings like the sun pierces the cloud.
¡°Gurthcid, sir, I¡¯m so sor¨C¡±
¡°Oh, shut up,¡± said Cid. ¡°How many times am I going to go through this today? I¡¯m beginning to think that a scarred little fourteen-year-old is the only member of my Lance with any sense.¡±
Brin winced. How fast would [Scarred, but Healing] work on burns? Was there any chance his face wouldn¡¯t be red and blistered when Cid got back?
¡°We¡¯ve got you outnumbered, sir [Knight],¡± said Mab, even though from all appearances he had the advantage here. Brin figured he could get them all to safety when they started running, and he hoped that would be soon. ¡°So just¨C¡±
¡°And you,¡± Cid said, looking at Mab. ¡°How dare you? Every able bodied man of fighting age in this city has already been called upon to join the war and defend your nation. How dare you all be here, instead of there?¡±
¡°You¡¯re not in any position to¨C¡±
Cid slowly moved his hand and let it rest on the hilt of his sword. He moved into a fighting stance. ¡°You¡¯ve offended me, and you¡¯ve offended the law. Now face justice.¡±
Brin had never seen Cid use that sword. He really wanted to. But at the same time, he hoped this was a fakeout and that Cid would start running soon.
Cid didn¡¯t run. He blurred, and Brin recognized the telltale speed of a [Knight¡¯s Charge]. Unlike Hedrek¡¯s wild brutality, Cid¡¯s movements were utter perfection. One long, fluid motion that crossed the entire backstreet.
A sound like the chiming of a bell. A streak of gold and silver. Then Cid was on the other side, with his back to Mab.
Mab¡¯s head slid slowly to the ground.
The gang hadn¡¯t had enough time to work themselves into a fighting frenzy. Instead, they stared at their fallen leader in shock, and then at Cid.
Now that he¡¯d seen him in action, Brin¡¯s [Inspect] had a new detail for Cid.
[Path of the Blade] Cid has reached the third step on the path to true mastery. This Skill decreases a blade¡¯s striking power in exchange for absolutely perfect control. Imbue the blade with mana to increase speed and precision further.
Eventually, one greasy-looking man with a long nose said, ¡°I suddenly find myself overcome with patriotic pride. The army, that¡¯s the life for me.¡±
¡°Excellent choice,¡± said Cid. He did an admirable job of pretending he wasn¡¯t exhausted after using that Skill, but Brin noticed the sweat on his brow and the slight tremble in his fist as he sheathed his sword again.
The adventure bought Brin a lot more time. Cid and company took the gang to the nearest army outpost and saw them all be recruited, and then Cid split off to have a long conversation with his wayward [Rogue].
When he was done, Brych was fully devoted to the Lance, and the System recognized it, giving him the [Watchful Squire] Class.
That was two.
Unfortunately, his face didn¡¯t heal. He created a mirror for himself and studied himself for a long minute before realizing that he could¡¯ve just had an Invisible Eye look at him at literally any time.
It didn¡¯t look good. His skin was beet red in the healthiest spots. Most of his face was covered with thick white blisters. The worst were his eyes. When he pulled the bandages Cowl had placed there down, he saw foggy grayish blue irises, no pupils visible, and red where white should be.
He was blind. He was blind.
It wasn¡¯t as bad as it looked, he tried to tell himself. High Vitality made people bounce back from all kinds of damage that should be permanent, and he had [Scarred, but Healing] on top of that. He¡¯d be fine. Hogg always talked about using light to blind people as if it weren¡¯t all that effective. He wouldn¡¯t discount it like that unless people really did recover easily from this type of thing.
He¡¯d be fine. But no matter how many times he told himself that, it was impossible to really believe it.
Eventually he tied the bandage back around his eyes like a blindfold and tried to get some rest before his Prime got back.
It took forever, but it was still too quick. Mid-afternoon, a triumphant Cid, Meredydd, and Brych rode into camp. Cid could tell something was up right away by the silly grins the men all wore.
¡°Eridu protect me, now what?¡±
¡°You should ask your Second,¡± said Hedrek. ¡°That¡¯s what you leader types do, right? Reconvene, recalibrate. Reconnoiter.¡±
Brin stood and turned his back, pretending to examine the afternoon sun. He raised a hand to block the light he couldn¡¯t really see. ¡°Seems like we have some daylight left, sir. Should we hit the road?¡±
It was Marksi who gave him away. The little guy noticed Brin¡¯s wounds and immediately started making a pained, whimpering sound, and jumped up to lick his face.
¡°There, there, it¡¯s not as bad as it looks,¡± said Brin.
Cid walked around and got a good look at Brin''s appearance. "So it''s true. I''m completely surrounded by fools. How did this happen?"
Brin had no choice but to stand at attention and weather the storm. "An artifact I was tinkering with exploded, sir."
"Do you carry very many artifacts that are so unstable they are liable to explode and remove one of my men?"
"I''m not removed, sir. I can still ride, and I can still fight," said Brin.
Cid shook his head in disbelief. "How many fingers am I holding up.
Brin remembered to lift his blindfold at the last second. "Three, sir."
"Lucky guess. But you haven''t answered my question. What other artifacts are you carrying that can explode out of nowhere?"
"None, sir. Even this one was safe enough. I just wasn''t paying attention to what I was doing," said Brin.
"And what, pray tell, so captured your attention that you couldn''t focus on a dangerous artifact in your hands?" Cid pantomimed looking around at the barren and empty plains.
"I have no excuse, sir," said Brin. "We can still ride out. I promise I won''t slow you down."
Cid sighed. "We''re not riding out on patrol when our Second looks like that. Prepare the horses, boys. Looks like you''re getting your night on the town after all."
The men erupted into cheers.
"Not you, and not you either," Cid said, looking at Meredydd and Brych. "If I gave you a night of drinking and dancing after the stunts you pulled, I would be the worst Prime in the Order. The two of you can keep watch on our wayward Second."
The two of them barely looked disappointed; by all accounts they were getting off easy.
They rode back into town, and Cid took them to a hospital built into the side of a temple. The temple of the gods in Fortmouth was much larger than the one in Hammon''s Bog. It was positively massive, and wooden frames on the roof told that it was still under construction. Brin was glad he didn''t have to go inside. The sure knowledge that the gods were real and watching was hard to ignore in a place like that.
The hospital barely deserved the name. There were rooms, and beds, and very little else. Some of the rooms had locks on the outside to shut in the visitors who were sick with mental afflictions. By watching Cid make the arrangements, he learned that the beds were free, but you had to hire a healer separately. Those who couldn''t afford to hire someone took the beds and waited for days or weeks for a healer to treat them as an act of charity.
He also didn''t see anyone with a [Healer] Class. He saw [Physicians] and even [Doctors], as well as [Healing Herbalists] and [Nurses], but if [Healer] was a real Class it wasn''t represented here.
Brin was guided to a small room with a lumpy straw bed. He removed his armor, grateful for his Iron Man program, and laid down. Eventually a [Tincturist] came by and applied some kind of paste to his ears and then his eyes, a process that wasn''t exactly painful but terribly uncomfortable. The man claimed that his vision would return soon, but it was hard to feel any relief at that news. He''d feel better when he could see and hear again.
He kept Invisible Eyes on the men as they found a tavern and had fun without him, but watching that made him feel bad enough that he let directed threads take care of it. Brych and Meredydd were surprisingly gracious, and didn''t complain once that they''d been tasked with watching over him. They brought him a pitcher of water and supper in the evening, and found rooms nearby for the night, keeping an alternating watch even though nothing would happen here in town.
Marksi was in even more distress than Brin, and kept licking his face even though it kind of stung every time he did. He rarely slept on Brin''s bed anymore, but tonight he wouldn''t be moved even though the small bed barely had room for Brin himself.
He eventually created a bunch of conscious threads just to make time feel like it was moving faster and waited until he was tired enough to be claimed by sleep.
He woke again after only four hours, but with [Dreamguard] that was plenty. He rose, donned his armor, and looked into the mirror, still using Invisible Eyes.
The reddened parts of his face had mostly returned to its normal color and the blisters had shrunken quite a bit, but his eyes were still puffy and clouded.
He experimented with using illusions to make them look like they''d recovered during the night, but he couldn''t separate little pieces off of Mirror Image yet, so the only solution would be to cast an entire Mirror Image over his entire body just to fix the eyes. He wasn''t sure he would be able to sync his movements perfectly, not all the time, so he sighed and left it how it was.
Maybe the System felt sorry for him, because it gave him something for the attempt.
[Call light through Glass] has leveled up! +1
Brin turned to the door, and hesitated. He knelt on the floor and said a prayer to Solia, one of the memorized ones that Ellion had taught him.
He''d been lax with his prayers, but now they suddenly seemed important. It was more than the injuries; it was the fact that he was exposed now. There was no Hogg here to bail him out of his worst ideas, and he wasn''t protected by Galan and an Order of experienced [Knights]. It was him and his little Lance, and that was it.
Brin had to argue Cid into it, but they left town that day to resume their patrol. He kept his distance from the rest of the men, in no mood to weather their jokes.
Around noon, his ears popped. Something fell out of them, and he could hear again. He mostly heard a horrible ringing, but he also heard the wind and the conversation of the men behind him. It was the most beautiful sound he''d ever heard.
The day passed uneventfully, and the next was shaping up to be about the same, until Brin spotted something with his Invisible Eyes. Two miles east of the Lance, he saw a group of twelve hairy, brutish, ugly humanoid creatures.
He was wondering how he''d draw the Lance''s attention to them when Brych raised his nose to the air. "I... I smell something. There are goblins nearby!"
Cid whooped, showing an uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Then looking embarrassed, he cleared his throat. "Look alive, men. It''s time for us to earn our pay."
Book 4 - Chapter 34
Cid had them dismount and walk their horses in the hopes that the shorter height and the lack of dust kicked up from the hooves would mean that they''d see the band of goblins before the goblins saw them. They approached slowly with Brych guiding the way. He followed his nose at first, then his other senses as they drew closer to the monsters.
Brin saw them all with his Invisible Eyes from the beginning, of course, but he couldn''t tell anyone that, and besides, approaching slowly was the right decision.
They were short and ape-like, with thick arms and shoulders, and while they were bipedal, it seemed that they''d have little problem bending over just a little more to walk on their hands. They were furry, somewhere between humans and monkeys, and colored a muddy beige that let them blend in with the landscape.
All of them bore weapons, but most were simple clubs. A few had actually managed to tie a rock to the end with strips of leather, and one carried a simple spear.
The strangest part of them was the variety of shapes and sizes. Some had longer arms, some had longer legs, one was the size of a child while another was as big as Hedrek.
They didn''t speak as they walked along; Brin had heard that they didn''t have language or if they did it was very crude. They seemed to follow a leader as he led them along, eyes darting everywhere as he scouted the path or perhaps looked for prey. Strangely, the leader wasn''t the biggest one, but he was the highest level, a whopping 28. Most of the rest were around level 20. Not terribly high, but a decent threat to the low levels of the Lance.
It was strange to know they were so close but be unable to see them with his eyes. Well, Brin couldn''t currently see anything with his eyes, but he also couldn''t see them with the Invisible Eyes he''d positioned at his eye level. The plains looked flat when he was looking across them, but they rolled gradually in a way that often obscured wide swaths of land.
There was also nowhere to hide. When the Lance crept forward near enough to start being able to see them around the slow bend of the earth, there was nothing to block their view and the goblins saw them right back.
They were three quarters of a mile away. The goblins didn''t look particularly alarmed by Brin''s group, but they turned and started moving the other direction.
"Goblins are cowards," Cid said. "They will never take an engagement where they don''t have an overwhelming advantage in numbers."
"We could run them down from our horses," said Brin.
"We could," said Cid. "But it''ll be harder than it sounds. They''re wicked quick when motivated. I''d rather not risk twisting an ankle over a band this small."
Brin looked at Hedrek who smirked and said nothing, clearly already knowing the answer.
"I could take them at range," said Anwir. "I and whoever else can handle a bow."
"You might hit one or two, but then the rest will flee and we''ll be back to running them down again," said Cid.
Brin didn''t make another suggestion, and neither did anyone else. Sensing his moment, Hedrek said, "Send me."
Cid crooked an eyebrow, but something made Brin think he was expecting that answer. "Just you?"
"They won''t flee from one man. They''re cowards, but they''re also stupid. They''ll think they can win if I go alone," said Hedrek.
Cid nodded. "A good thought, but one is too few. I''ll send three. Also, I don''t imagine enemies at this level will be beneficial to someone with your experience. Better give someone else a chance. I''ll send Meredydd, Aeron, and Rhun."
The three that Cid had called out looked eager and excited. Govannon scowled and stared at the ground, while Brych looked to be trying to hide his disappointment.
Cid continued, "Anwir, be ready with your arrows if any of them try to break away. Brin as well. Hit them with your glass if... if you can." He stuttered as he glanced at Brin¡¯s face and remembered the state of his eyes.
"I can," Brin said simply.
Under the cover of Self-Invisibility and a Mirror Image, he passed the care of his horse Nobility to a glass clone, and then started moving silently towards the goblins. He could probably hit the goblins if he lobbed glass like artillery shells, but he didn''t have great precision from this range. Instead, he would sneak up and then shoot them from up close while making it look like he was still far away. This would also let him be in the right position in case the other three ran into trouble.
It was a bit tricky to pull it off right under Brych''s nose. He had to make the soft, mostly inaudible sound of a heartbeat in the glass copy''s chest to make it seem like the real Brin was still over there, and he had to imitate the sound of breathing. He accomplished that by making a cone of silence around his real body while projecting the quiet sounds he made to his fake body. Even then, Brych''s eye flicked in confusion towards where the real Brin was standing, perhaps sensing his body''s electricity or the pressure differences in the air. [Rogues] could be annoying like that. Hopefully when things really got moving, he''d be too distracted to notice small signs like that.
Meredydd, Aeron and Rhun left their horses with the others and started to approach the goblins.
Cid led the rest of them away. The goblins noticed their group split apart. They watched the approaching knights carefully, and when it became clear that the larger group really was moving away, stopped their retreat.
The goblins watched the approach with interest, and then with eagerness. They started to hoot, some slamming their fists on the ground, some screeching.
The men walked boldly. Rhun kept both hands on his greatshield, apparently meaning to take Galan''s words to heart and serve as a pure protector. Meredydd had left his lance behind of course, and unsheathed his sword. Aeron carried his mace in both hands, ready to start swinging. Brin hung far off to the side. He didn''t want to bump into anyone by accident, and honestly didn''t want to do anything at all unless they needed him.
The goblins'' yells and screeches grew more and more agitated as the knights approached. Now they were yelling things that sounded more like words. Brin heard words like, "Caro!", ¡°Visne?¡± and "Puer bonus!" but the way they repeated it made it sound more like they were parroting sounds rather than actually communicating.
Brin didn''t know if they''d charge or flee. He didn''t think the goblins knew either; they seemed to be riding the line between anger and panic. Some of the smaller ones ran back a few steps, only to come back around when they noticed that no one was following them.
Soon their cries reached a fever pitch, and the leader stepped forward. The big goblin followed and the rest charged forward with guttural yells, eager to swarm the three knights at once.
Rhun took the lead, charging with the tower shield in both hands. He bashed the shield in every direction, knocking weapons away and opening up the goblins for Meredydd to lay into them with his sword. He was a flurry of quick, light slashes that cut into each of the goblins like a living blender. He cut necks and arteries, wounds that would be fatal if given time, but didn''t stop the goblins in their berserker rage. He took a lot of stabs and cuts to his armor, but nothing broke through. Aeron followed up, bashing the wildest goblins with his mace. He took three of them down with strikes to the head, and then followed up with a jumping overhand that struck the seven-foot-tall goblin in the forehead.
Brin expected the goblin to fall. Instead it roared. It swung its fist, knocking Aeron to the ground.
Meredydd cut him, but his sword caught in the goblin''s forearm. It kicked him and Meredydd miraculously kept his feet but he lost his sword and took two steps back, dazed.
The big goblin jumped forward and punched toward Meredydd''s head. Rhun got into place just in time, blocking. The punch put a huge dent into the tower shield, but it must''ve hurt the goblin''s hand more, because his roars of anger started to take on a pained tone.
A group of five little goblins all mobbed Rhun at once, tackling him to the ground. It was almost funny, except that getting pulled to the ground was death for a knight. Aeron had his own problems; he''d engaged the leader who was proving to be a proficient fighter. His stone spear clanged against Aeron''s armor over and over, and the [Warrior''s] mace never seemed to find purchase.
Brin stepped forward to save Rhun even though that would expose him, but Meredydd got there first. He plucked his sword from the ground and hacked wildly at the goblins on top of Rhun with wild abandon. The occasional crack of sword striking armor showed that he didn''t care about accidentally hitting Rhun, and also that he didn''t need to.
The big goblin picked up his club and swung at Meredydd from behind, but the [Armsman] ducked just in time and the swing took out an unfortunate small one.
Before the big one could recover, Meredydd stabbed his sword to the hilt in its chest and then turned around to pull the rest of the goblins off Rhun with his hands.
Rhun got to his feet, abandoned his shield, and warded the goblins off with his sidearm.
Aeron''s duel with the leader still didn''t have a resolution. The little monster was a talented fighter, and Aeron seemed to be much worse than normal. He was fighting like he still had a sword instead of a mace, Brin decided. [Blade Master] wasn''t helping him adjust his form for the fact that there was a bit more weight on the end of his weapon than he was used to. Only his armor was really saving him, as the goblin scored hit upon hit against the metal.
The goblin leader seemed to realize that he wasn¡¯t going to break through the steel, and with a howl of frustration, broke off and started to run. Three goblins had survived the fight with Rhun and Meredydd, and started running the other direction.
"Take down the strays," ordered Cid.
"I have the leader. Anwir, try for the others," Brin said through his mirror image who''d stayed behind.
He had his mirror mime summoning a glass javelin. The real him summoned a real one while invisible. He empowered it with language, and then both real and fake Brins threw their javelins. They struck at the same time, nailing the leader in the back.
You have defeated: Plains Goblin [28]
Anwir got one of the strays with his arrows, but there were two left.
"Hedrek," said Cid.
"Got it."
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
The big [Knight] spurred his horse forwards, galloping towards the last two goblins, intent on running them down. He made up ground quickly, and then when he sensed he was in range, activated [Knight''s Charge] to make up the last of the distance. One goblin died under his horse''s hooves, and the other from one swing of his longsword.
The fight was over.
In Brin''s opinion, it was kind of a disaster, but at least no one had died. The three knights seemed elated as they gathered themselves and headed back to where the rest of the Lance was waiting, though Rhun had a limp and Meredydd favored his left arm.
Brin quickly ran back and put his real body where the fake one was so that he could undo the illusion.
"What a load of garbage!" Brin shouted, because that was his job. "What were you thinking, running straight into them? If you''re going to run into the mob, then burst straight through! Don''t stop in place while they have you surrounded. And Aeron, you need--"
"Now, now, Brin," said Cid. "I think they did quite well. Rhun, you did especially well when you caught that blow meant for Meredydd. Meredydd, you had a very nice economy of movement in the beginning."
"I didn''t get the spear fighter," said Aeron.
"You engaged an enemy with twice your levels on you and drove it away," said Cid.
"He could still use some practice with that mace," said Brin.
"We can''t hold that against him. I''ve deliberately avoided combat practice until more of the Lance attains [Squire]."
Thinking about it now, a lot of his complaints about the way they handled themselves came from [Battle Sense] telling him that their strategy and positioning wasn¡¯t ideal, but that wouldn¡¯t be obvious to everyone. "I guess. I guess you did ok. But we''ll be having a discussion on tactics tonight, so that you''re ready for the next one."
At the mention of a "next one" Govannon and Brych visibly perked up. Cowl seemed calm and placid as always. He probably wasn''t expecting that he''d be in the next group of three. That was a problem. Did Cowl think of himself as a knight, or did he just think he was here to carry their stuff?
The Lance met up with Hedrek again, who did an admirable job pretending not to be exhausted from his [Knight''s Charge]. They spent a little time examining the corpses of the goblins. Cid said they never kept money, but sometimes they kept prizes, so anything they carried could be a clue to what villages they''d been attacking. They didn''t find anything like that, but Brin found their weapons interesting. Despite being made of wood, hide, and stone, the edges of some of the blades were quite sharp, and none of it was below journeyman quality. They were primitive, but they had at least some access to System-improved crafting.
There wasn''t loot, but that didn''t mean there were no rewards. Aeron and Meredydd both got a level, and Rhun got what he''d really been waiting for. [Squire].
Rhun was normally a bit stoic and reserved, but not today. When they returned to their patrols he rode out of order, right between Meredydd and Brych, and reveled in his new Class. He read out the Skills and descriptions, speculated on the ways he could improve them, and boasted about all the things that made him a "true man." When those two had enough he rode up next to Hedrek to do the same thing. Hedrek took it all in good humor and didn¡¯t seem to grow tired of congratulating him.
Brin spent the day riding with Cid, and they plotted about how they were going to get the rest of the Lance to [Squire]. Brin brought up his concerns about Cowl, and Cid agreed.
They spotted a small group of five goblins just before sunset. This time, Cid sent Cowl and Govannon, and only those two.
"I can do it alone!" Govannon said, while Cowl said, "Are you sure, sir? I can think of a number of men here who would rather go in my place."
Cid ignored Govannon and said to Cowl, "I would have you go, and if I sent someone alone it would be you. I do not see you inferior to any man here, and I would have you receive the [Squire] Class tonight if possible."
"If I stay at [Porter], I can serve in ways that others cannot," said Cowl.
"I''ll set bags on the saddles of our other horses if need be, and I already had in mind to set up a rotation for meals. No, I''ll have a [Knight] out of you, Cowl Candle."
Cowl''s face stayed expressionless as always, but he gulped three times before he said, "Very well, sir."
Cowl kept his warhammer on his back as Galan had advised him, and surprised Brin by asking for his spear. "It seems like the right tool for the job," he explained simply.
The fight itself was much smoother than the one earlier in the day. The goblins showed no hesitation engaging them five versus two, and Cowl and Govannon didn''t rush in. Cowl expertly used the spear to keep the goblins at a distance and prevent them from surrounding him. This left Govannon free to pick the goblins off one at a time. Their brutal strength meant nothing when they couldn''t land a single strike on the [Page]. He flowed through their movements like it was a dance he''d practiced a hundred times.
For the last one, Cowl dropped the spear and stepped forward with his sword. His movements were a lot more awkward than Govannon. Honestly, he was worse than anyone else in the Lance, but against one goblin he was good enough. Govannon didn''t interfere, and stood back to watch as Cowl took down his first monster.
Cowl had a small smile on his lips when he marched back to the men, one of the few smiles that Brin had ever seen there, and it didn¡¯t leave his mouth for the rest of the night.
He didn¡¯t get [Squire] that night, but Brin thought he was close.
The next morning, Cid gave them more time to pack up camp and prepare for the day than usual. Meredydd got to work repairing everyone''s armor without needing to be asked, showing each of the men what he was doing so that they''d be able to do it in the future.
Cid reorganized the list of chores, giving the men more of the tasks that Cowl usually did without being asked. Everyone was horrified when they found out Cid was serious about having the others cook meals. When Hedrek went first and made a burnt mess of bacon and eggs, their anxiety only increased. But then Cid did a passable job with lunch and Brin had dinner. He made stew, copying every step from his recorded memories of seeing Cowl do it, and ended up with a result that was every bit as good.
Meals were hit or miss after that, but Cid''s strategy bore fruit. Two days later, while Cowl was biting his fingernails and trying not to object to Govannon''s misguided attempts to make a roast over the open camp fire, he suddenly shouted with joy and jumped to his feet.
"I did it! [Squire]!"
With [Inspect], Brin saw that Cowl''s actual Class was [Squire of Burdens], a hybrid [Porter]-[Squire].
The patrol went on. Four days after setting out, Brin felt a sudden uncontrollable itchiness on his eyes. He gave in and rubbed them furiously and felt dead skin fall away in clumps.
Suddenly, he could see again. It was blurry and painful in the bright sunlight, but he could see. He wept openly in relief, though he used his magic to silence himself when he couldn''t stop the big, gasping sobs.
He could see. He spoke a prayer of thanks to Solia. After that, he prayed every day and never forgot.
As the patrol went on, the Lance spotted small groups of goblins here and there, and Cid continued to send two or three men at a time to take care of them. Even Brin got his turn, fighting side by side with Govannon. Marksi had insisted on participating, and had left some impressively large gouges on a smaller goblin with his claws.
It confused Brin that there always seemed to be between five and ten of the monsters, and that they never saw females or juveniles. Cid figured that the goblins were doing what they were; these were scouts or patrols.
The overall mood was better than ever. Four of the men had earned [Squire] and the other three who still wanted it seemed close behind. Cid spent a lot of time each night taking the men aside one at a time and talking to them about their lives, their pasts, and trying to ferret out exactly what was keeping them from reaching [Squire]. Aeron and Anwir were both tough to figure out; they seemed to have come from happy home lives and didn''t have any particular hold-ups. He also approached Hedrek, trying to get the big [Knight] to take more care with the way he did things, but that was trying to talk to a wall. Hedrek deflected with jokes, excuses, complaints, and then just flat out refused to speak on it.
Govannon was Govannon. Most of the men ignored him, all of them too excited to need to blow off steam by abusing the black sheep, but that wouldn''t last forever. When Cid tried to speak to him, he saw every question as an attack and every comment as an insult.
He treated Brin the same, though one night when Brin caught him alone watering the horses and managed to draw him into conversation.
"I''ve always wondered. Why [Page]? People say it''s because you weren''t offered [Warrior], but I don''t think I believe that. I think [Page] is better," said Brin.
Govannon grinned. "You know? None of the other guys get it, but you''re right."
"Why, though?"
Govannon had the same fluid grace working with horses as he did while fighting. He led them in an orderly line, and when he snapped and pointed at the water, all ten horses ducked their heads and drank at once. "For the same reason that you take [Squire] before [Knight]. Each time you get a new Class you get between two and four Skills right out the gate. So if you go straight to [Knight] you start with three Skills, but someone who went [Page], [Squire], and then [Knight] has between six and nine," said Govannon.
"But if you went [Warrior], [Squire], and then [Knight], isn''t it the same?" Brin wasn''t expecting a thorough answer; most people were cagey about sharing this kind of thing.
To his surprise, Govannon answered without resistance. "No, because a [Warrior''s] base Skills are flat. [Blade Mastery] and some kind of intimidation or encouragement Skill. Usually a shout. They''re both as good on day one as they''ll ever be, unless you find a way to evolve them. [Page] gave me the [Speedy Messenger] Title and then [Knightly Training] and [Child''s Imitation], which are both growth Skills."
"What?" Brin was stunned. [Child''s Imitation] was the one reason to be tempted by the [Child] Class. With it, you could copy any Skill as long as you had someone willing to teach it to you. "You could go from [Page] to [Mage]!"
Govannon shrugged. "I want to be a [Knight], though."
"What a waste," Brin moaned.
"Is it? Because I used [Child''s Imitation] to copy [Blade Mastery]. And [Knightly Training] helps me learn everything that a [Knight] can do. Riding, fighting, anything. So I already have two fighting Skills. Now think what''ll happen when I get to [Squire]."
"[Squire] gives [Knightly Training], too," said Brin.
"Yep, and since I already have it, the Class will upgrade it instead. [Knightly Discipline] gives real stat bonuses and it''s still upgradeable. Then when I get [Knight], it''ll upgrade again. I''ll be unstoppable."
"And [Child''s Imitation] goes to [Blade Mastery]?"
"Or [Sword Mastery]. I don''t actually care which," said Govannon.
"Or even [Axe Mastery]?" said Brin.
Govannon looked at his war axe glumly. "I guess."
"What can you expect at [Knight]?" asked Brin.
"Well, that''s a little different for everyone, but..."
Govannon talked about all the possible paths his Class might take for a solid half-hour. When they finished watering the horses and went back to camp, the [Page] clammed up again, not wanting to be seen talking to the Second. Baby steps.
They were on the road for two weeks before they made their first rest stop. Cid had been informed that they could station at the headquarters of the Order of the Broken Stone.
The Order of the Broken Stone had a massive castle to the southwest of Gonwy, with a quaint little village that Brin supposed had the sole purpose of serving the Order. The walls of the keep were plastered white, and the symbol of their order was painted on both sides of the front gate. A sword, with two half circles on the sides, maybe the broken stone they were named after.
The keep was built into the side of a tall mountain, and a jagged canyon defended the other side. It was accessible by only a single, long stone bridge that Brin was certain would have collapsed under its own weight without the liberal use of enchantments and Skills.
They were welcomed in and shown to a bunk room that was much more luxurious than their quarters in the Order of the Long Sleep, if only because this keep wasn''t falling apart.
Servants took their things for cleaning and laundry, and saw the men were bathed, clothed and fed, though no one invited them to the dining hall. Instead, food was brought to their room. They were being shown hospitality, but Cid made sure everyone knew that this Order didn''t want them wandering around through their halls.
That didn''t matter to anyone. The men were just happy to sleep in beds for a change, and Brin didn''t mind either. He could snoop just as easily without leaving his rooms.
It didn''t take long for the men to settle in and for the sounds of snoring to fill the room. Once he was sure no one was going to bother him, Brin sent out his Invisible Eyes.
Brin found the armories first, and decided not to try to pry into them. They were warded in the Order of the Long Sleep, and if they were protected here, too, then trying to look inside might set off an alarm. He found the practice grounds. These knights relied much more heavily on shields than Brin was used to; every single man carried one even if he didn''t have a weapon. Value Sense told him that the average shield was much more expensive than the weapons. Maybe he could convince someone here to show Rhun a thing or two?
Continuing on, he found food stores and servants quarters. He found the leadership rooms by accident when he ran straight into a room that totally rejected his illusions. Fortunately, there didn''t seem to be any alarms at the attempt.
He soared up and out, along the walls, and got a glimpse of silver and gold up on a high tower.
To his surprise, Lothar of the Order of the Golden Ivory was up there, speaking to a [Knight Commander] who probably led the Order of the Broken Stone.
Brin rushed in to hear what they were talking about.
"...a terrible mistake. We shouldn''t rush in where... where..." Lothar trailed off, looking distracted.
"Where?" the [Knight Commander] prompted.
"I apologize. As you well know, I am not a man of secrets. I live my life clearly and openly, so that if any man seeks to know my mind he has only to ask," said Lothar.
"This I know well."
"That is why I find it completely intolerable to be spied on," said Lothar. He turned and Brin expected him to match the trick of staring at his Invisible Eye. Instead, he looked down.
At first Brin wasn''t sure what Lothar was looking at. There didn''t seem to be anything there. He was staring at the ground of the tower. Then Brin thought about what direction Lothar was facing.
Lothar wasn''t staring at Brin''s Invisible Eye. He was staring through several walls of stone directly towards Brin''s real body.
Book 4 - Chapter 35
Brin darted out of bed and ran. He moved more out of panic than any real plan, but still thankfully had the presence of mind to leave a glass copy in his bed, just in case any of the men woke up in the commotion. As soon as he hit the doorway he turned himself invisible and sent three mirror images running in all different directions.
The Lance might get in trouble because Brin was seen running around the fortress, but he''d be in much worse trouble if Lothar caught up with him. He ran, silently and invisible, and watched Lothar with his Invisible Eye.
Lothar casually hopped down from the tower. He fell a dozen stories and landed on the ground with a crash that cracked the stones of the floor. Then he strode forward as if he''d done nothing more than skip the last two stairs on a staircase.
Brin sent his Mirror Images even further away in the hope that Lothar would follow one of them. No such luck. He marched straight towards the real Brin, who was currently invisible.
This was crazy! If nothing else, this only confirmed in his mind that Lothar really was a [Paladin]. No one should have a Skill this broken!
He reached a corridor and ran one direction, before switching tracks and going the other way, wasting time in a panic. Should he go deeper into the fortress, towards the servants quarters, or try to get out? He stopped, paralyzed by panic and indecision.
No. Think. He''d been in tougher spots than this. What did he know? Lothar had some kind of Skill that let him see through walls and let him see through illusions, even invisibility. But just because he hadn''t found its limits yet didn''t mean there weren''t any. He needed to try something else.
He put a Mirror Image on top of himself, overlaying his real body with an illusory one. Then he created five more Mirror Images and split them all off in different directions.
Lothar paused. For the first time, he looked a bit unsure. When he started moving again, it was at a quick trot instead of a casual stroll and... yes! He was heading towards one of the doubles.
Brin could do this. He sent his Mirror Images in every direction, and with his real body ran out of the keep. The knights keeping guard shouted after him in question, but they didn''t stop him.
Back in the keep, Lothar reached the first Mirror Image and Brin simply dismissed it. Lothar grunted in annoyance and changed direction. This time he simply rammed through a stone wall to reach another of Brin''s distractions, which he also promptly dismissed.
Brin reached the small town near outside the keep; it wasn''t big enough to really hide in. He''d need to get outside. Once he was out, he could spread out his Mirror Images and hope that Lothar got bored of the chase.
And then... and then what? Lothar knew his face and that he was an [Illusionist]. He''d seen that Brin had started with his Lance. But if he got away there was a chance that Lothar would be fooled by the glass Brin in his bed and he might be persuaded that Brin had been set up or... or something. It wasn''t much of a chance, but it was a chance.
Lothar picked a stone up from the ground and threw it at Brin''s Invisible Eye, dispelling it. Brin decided not to create another one. He didn''t really need to see where Lothar was, he just needed to get away.
He ran down the street of the small village. Only a few people were on the streets, and they didn''t see anything too odd with a knight running somewhere in a hurry. Maybe they''d be more concerned if he was going in the other direction. Thankfully, he''d volunteered to be one of the two who slept in his armor, so he wasn''t running around in his pajamas.
He was nearing the bridge, so he sent a Mirror Image ahead of him to run across first, just in case there was some trap or obstacle that he was missing.
The bridge was one long arch, and fashioned from white stone to look like it was all carved from one piece of marble. His mirror reached the top of the arc and then started going down the other side. Lothar wasn''t in sight. He might actually make it.
There was a crash, and Brin''s Mirror Image disappeared in a blur of silver and gold.
Lothar had appeared from nowhere. Had he jumped?
Either way, the jig was up. Lothar was cutting off the only means of escape. He also wasn''t being careful not to use too much force when he dispelled Brin''s Mirror Images. Brin hurriedly dismissed the one he''d put on top of himself and held his hands out to show he was real and unarmed.
Lothar walked towards him again, and this time Brin stepped forward to meet him in the middle.
The bridge was pretty narrow, only enough room for one cart, and the canyon underneath was so deep that Brin couldn''t see the bottom, even with his darkvision.
"Brin isu Yambul. I might have known. Galan informed me somewhat concerning you," Lothar said. His voice was deep and resonant. His features were just a tad on the pretty side of manly, and he had blonde hair with just a tint of red¨Calmost pinkish. Those were not Prinnashian features. They might have been Arcaenean features, but Brin thought he saw the Wyrd written all over his face. A mother who would do to Lothar what Aberfa tried to do to Brin wouldn''t have any qualms about altering his features to make him look the part.
Brin had one last card to play. He folded his arms, and used illusion magic to project his voice instead of talking naturally. "If so, then you must know why I''d be so curious about you."
Success. Brin''s illusion magic clashed with Lothar truth magic in the Wyrd, and he felt the arguments. Brin''s argument was that he didn¡¯t have any deception in mind when he used his magic to project his voice; he was just communicating. Lothar''s magic didn''t like that, but it also had little to argue with. More importantly, feeling the magic personally in the Wyrd was enough to update Brin''s [Inspect].
Lothar of the Order of the Golden Ivory
Paladin (Legendary)
Description: Blessed of heaven, son of light, let nothing stain thy sight! Walk forward in godliness, blessed one, and cleanse the world of all unrighteousness!
Skills: Light of Truth - Lothar has the power to see through deception and strip away lies, even lies of omission.
That was the most insane Class description he''d ever seen. Legendary was a whole other level. Also, it had only showed him one Skill, which was the one he''d already figured out. The Wyrd had actually told him more than [Inspect].
[Light of Truth] could do a lot to counter lies, but it couldn''t read minds. It wouldn''t be able to see omissions if the other person didn''t say anything--it would only tell the lie of statements that concealed more than they revealed.
It wasn''t great, but Brin could work with that.
His [Illusionist] Class was already outed; that was past saving. Now Brin only had one goal: he absolutely couldn¡¯t let slip that he knew that Lothar was a [Broken Doll]. Lumina had a plan for that secret, so they had to hide it until the right time. Everything else was negotiable.
"I can, but you should have approached me directly. I find spying unbearable," said Lothar.
Brin very carefully didn''t say anything; there wasn''t a single safe response to that, since Lothar was the worst kind of spy. He was a spy who didn¡¯t know he was a spy.
"Why not just ask me what you wish to know?" Lothar asked.
"Because I''m afraid of you, obviously. And I suspect you. Many of the people I trust the most trust you completely, but you spend all your time arguing in favor of Arcaena," said Brin.
"I am not in favor of Arcaena. See here, it is the opposite! This war will favor her more than us. I could give you a hundred reasons why this war is a mistake, and have done so with a dozen men and women, but I think this would be a waste of breath in your case. I think you are more curious about our shared pasts, and fear me for another reason," said Lothar.
"This is so," said Brin. "I wanted to know where you came from. But I was afraid that if I asked you questions, you''d ask the same ones back to me. I don''t want to answer those questions. One, because I swore an Oath not to speak of it, and for other reasons that I don''t want to talk about."
Brin was relieved to feel through the Wyrd that Lothar''s magic was satisfied. He hadn''t hidden anything; he''d flat out said there were things he didn''t want to talk about.
At the same time, was this enough? If Lothar told his handler about this conversation, all she would learn is that Brin knew more about his past than he wanted to admit. It wouldn¡¯t be a big jump to assume that Brin knew the entire secret.
Lothar nodded and said, "Never fear. If you will not speak, I will not press you. As for my story, I have no reason to hide. Eleven years ago, I awoke near the eastern border of Theranor, confused and with few memories.¡±
Eleven years ago? Aberfa had talked about her plans for Aberthol as if it were something groundbreaking, but of course she would. It would be just like Aberfa to pretend she was some huge innovator when the pinnacle of her life¡¯s work was to copy something a sister [Witch] had already done a decade ago.
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Lothar continued, ¡°I was inside the ruined remains of a merchant caravan, dead to a man except for me. The area was also scattered with broken black shells of the Easterlings. It was thought at the time that a band of Easterling raiders destroyed the caravan, wounded me, and left me for dead. We assumed that I distinguished myself well enough during the fighting to be awarded a Class with a self-healing ability, which eventually saved my life. I know not if this is true, but I have faith that my Class was given to me for a reason. I remember very little of my life before. Faint images. Smells. But I did remember my name.¡± Lothar gave Brin a pointed look at that last statement.
"I... thought I remembered my name, but I was Mistaken," said Brin.
Lothar completely ignored the double meaning. "Hm, that''s not quite right. More like you gave your true name, but mispronounced it. You really think that you never were Aberthol. Interesting."
Brin suppressed a wince. He could get all that from a lame attempt at a joke? [Light of Truth] was insane. This conversation was way too dangerous.
No. Wait. Had Lothar just given Brin the key to all of this. If Brin just told Lothar that he was from another world, it would prove to Lothar¡¯s handlers that Lothar actually wasn¡¯t like Brin. That could only work to his advantage. It would also maybe make Lothar think that he might be from another world, which was much more comforting than the truth.
¡°I¡ I can tell a little more. I visited the temple of the gods in Hammon¡¯s Bog with my questions, and I was shown a vision of the goddess Solia. She told me that I was brought here from another world, and that I should think of myself as having my body¡¯s age instead of how old I was before, advice which I only mostly ignored.¡±
¡°Astonishing,¡± Lothar said in awe. Anyone else would¡¯ve listened to that story and been a bit skeptical, but of all people, Lothar couldn¡¯t doubt him. ¡°What was she like?¡±
¡°Indescribable,¡± said Brin. ¡°The vision was short, because if it had lasted any longer just standing in her presence would¡¯ve unraveled my mind. But she¡¯s good. She¡¯s worthy of worship.¡±
Lothar took a deep shuddering breath, and the two of them stood in silence for a moment while Lothar processed it.
¡°I haven¡¯t even told Galan about this, Lothar,¡± Brin said finally.
¡°I understand,¡± said Lothar. ¡°I do not keep secrets, but I do keep some things sacred. I will be careful in how I speak of this.¡±
Again, Lothar said something Brin couldn¡¯t possibly respond to. Instead, he changed the subject back to Lothar¡¯s history. "Did you ever find out anything about the caravan? Where they came from?"
"No. Never. It''s as if they never existed," said Lothar. He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s a pity. It¡¯s such a true pity. We are so similar. Both of us with clouded pasts, and both of us touched by the gods. It saddens me to see you in this state, walking such a different life path. Galan told me your story mirrors mine and indeed it is true: looking at you is like looking in a twisted mirror that reverses my light for darkness."
"What?" Brin gasped and staggered back, as if struck. He¡¯d bared his soul to the man, and then Lothar said something like that. But when he looked in Lothar¡¯s eyes he didn¡¯t see any scorn or contempt. He saw pity. That made it even worse.
"We shared similar challenges and similar opportunities, but I became Lothar of the Order of the Golden Ivory. And you became an [Illusionist]. A Class for cheap entertainment and rank deception. Worse, you hide yourself among better men, pretending to be an honest crafter," said Lothar. Even with those outrageous words, all Brin felt from his was a heart full of honest empathy.
Brin could barely breathe. "Are you really judging me for hiding my Class? You, of all people?"
Lothar flinched. "I never took [Hide Status]. King Fromost interfered with my status using a Skill of his own, and bid me not to tell. Even so, I refuse to lie. If any man asks me for my Class, I tell him true."
"What''s your Class, Lothar?" Brin asked.
"I am a [Paladin]," Lothar said, meeting Brin''s eyes with full confidence. Brin didn¡¯t think someone could hold [Light of Truth] and still lie. He really didn¡¯t know he was a [Broken Doll]. "And you?"
"I''m a [Glassbound Illusionist]," Brin said with as much pride as he could muster.
"And what am I to do with you?" Lothar asked.
Brin bit off a hundred angry remarks, because everything he could think of to attack Lothar with had to do with the secret he absolutely couldn¡¯t share. He looked away, but the only thing to look at was the gaping black void underneath the bridge. "I never thought of [Illusionist] as a Class for telling lies. Light and sound, to me, are about communication. I want to make a world where it''s easier for people to talk to each other. In the short term, though, I need to hide what I am to stay alive."
"I will not promise to lie on your behalf,¡± said Lothar. Then his expression softened, again full of pity. ¡°But I can do at least this much: I''ll climb to the peak of the mountains above this fortress and meditate for a time in solitude. I assume you''ll continue your patrol?"
"That''s the plan. Assuming that I haven''t been ousted from my Lance," said Brin.
"I have no reason to speak to them before I depart; that''s all I can promise. You''ll head south then, towards Dusting?"
"We''ll probably be there tomorrow afternoon, if it''s as near as Cid thinks it is," said Brin.
"On a [Knight''s] horse, you''ll be there for lunch. The roast lamb stew at their public house is especially delectable," said Lothar.
"I''ll give it a try," said Brin.
"Farewell, sir Brin."
"Sir Lothar," Brin said with a nod.
Brin stepped to the side for Lothar to move past. Lothar walked down the bridge and across the town, never deviating from his course.
Brin watched him go, and tried to hang onto his righteous indignation, but it faded in favor of a cold pit in his stomach. He could pretend to be above it all, but at the end of the day when you met a man like Lothar you wanted him to like you.
It didn¡¯t help that Lothar was wrong about himself, because that wasn¡¯t even his fault. He really should¡¯ve been the man he thought he was.
Brin left the bridge. No one stopped him in town. At the gates to the castle, one of the guards said, "I bet you''re going straight back to your room, right?"
Brin said, "That''s right," and they made no attempt to bar his way.
Back at the room, everyone was still asleep; they hadn''t bothered to set a watch here in friendly territory. He slipped back into bed, and only had to figure out what to do with the glass copy he''d left there. Since the glass was hollow it shrank down very well into a softball-sized ball of glass that he set on the floor.
Marksi woke when he tried to get back into bed, and bounced around trying to get him to explain where he''d gone. Brin silenced a ball around him and told Marksi all about it. When the little guy was satisfied, he curled back into bed, giving Brin a look that told him he''d better wake him up if he decided to go on any more nighttime adventures.
The next morning, his cover still wasn''t blown. The servants who brought them breakfast and helped them dress were very free with gossip. They told them all about how Lothar had knocked down a couple walls for no reason and then disappeared without explanation. None of them seemed all that bothered by it, either, just another eccentricity of the world''s strongest [Knight].
The Lance left the Order of the Broken Stone''s fortress, and even when it was hardly a speck in the distance, Brin still felt like the other shoe was going to drop. He couldn''t have actually gotten away with it, right? Lothar was going to fall down out of the sky and denounce him. Any second now.
The village of Dustrim wasn''t much to look at. It was about the size of Travin''s Bog, and from a couple miles away they could see the public house. It stood out as much larger and nicer than any of the other homes or businesses. Brin guessed it served merchants and travelers rather than being supported by the people in the town.
Cid asked Brin if he thought they should skip the town completely, but when Brin mentioned that he heard it was a great place for lunch, Cid decided that they could drop in.
From a distance, it was kind of strange; Brin didn''t see anyone on the streets. Was it deserted? He sent Invisible Eyes ahead and was relieved to find that wasn''t the case. There was a little girl playing on a doorstep there, and two men chatting at the well there, and lots of people were in their houses. A quiet town, not a deserted one.
Even so, as they got closer Brin couldn''t shake the feeling that there was something wrong with this place. From a half mile away, he was certain. That wrongness wasn''t just coming from his anxiety after the conversation with Lothar last night. It was coming from his senses, one of his new ones. [Monster Sense] or... [Know What''s Wyrd].
They rode on, and Brin strained his sense, trying to detect any [Witch] traps before the Lance stumbled into them.
The town didn''t have much of a wall, just a short pile of stones that wrapped around the village to mark its borders. As they approached the wall, Brin was certain. A [Witch] considered this entire town her territory.
Marksi noticed at the same time as him and started gagging in disgust.
"Halt!" Brin said, and the Lance stopped.
"What is it?" Cid asked.
Brin looked down at Marksi. He had no problem giving the little guy full credit. "Are you sure?"
Marksi nodded seriously.
¡°I need a private conversation,¡± said Brin.
Cid activated the enchantment on his helm, blocking sound to the rest of the Lance.
"I don''t know if it''s all dragons or just Marksi, but he can sense the Wyrd," said Brin.
Cid paled. ¡°What are you saying?"
"[Witches]," said Brin. "There''s a [Witch] operating in Dustrim."
¡°What do we do?¡± asked Cid.
Brin had Cid cancel the enchantment. ¡°Brych, come up here.¡±
When Brych came forward, Brin told him, ¡°Look at this town. Does anything stand out? Is anything strange?¡±
At the same time, he scoured the village with his Invisible Eyes again. Yes, most of the people were in their houses, and many of them were still in bed, this late in the morning. They were sick.
None were very thin, and the morale wasn¡¯t exactly bad. It looked like a sudden fever had hit many people in town at once.
Any thought that this might be a ¡°good¡± [Witch] like Davi¡¯s mom fled Brin¡¯s mind. Bruna was more careful with the Wyrd; she protected her home and her family. She didn¡¯t put lines of Wyrd to surround the entire town, and she certainly never made dozens of people sick.
This [Witch] was bad news, and probably a recent arrival.
¡°I don¡¯t see anything strange,¡± said Brych. ¡°I guess there¡¯s not as much activity as I¡¯d normally expect? Could be a local holiday, or maybe a lot of illness.¡±
¡°Thank you,¡± said Cid. ¡°Your thoughts, sir Brin?¡±
He needed to find the [Witch]. She¡¯d be in the public house, right? If she was new to town, then¡
While he was searching, another thought occurred to him. A [Witch] might make a lot of people sick to gain experience, but it wouldn¡¯t be worth much to a high level [Witch]. A [Witch] like that might still do this as a way to gather a lot of power very quickly, power that could then be used to throw a powerful curse at a hapless band of traveling knights.
What were the chances of this? A [Witch] was waiting for him in the first town he came to after meeting Arcaena¡¯s best spy. He¡¯d told Lothar he was coming here, and then Lothar had decided to go off by himself for no reason. Aberfa had told Brin that Lothar¡¯s mother was a [Great Witch]. He trusted his chances against an ordinary [Witch], but if this was someone as powerful as Awnadil had been, they were all dead.
Brin sent another band of Invisible Eyes looking in other directions, and sure enough, he found goblins. To the south a band of a hundred was dashing at full speed towards Dustrim. Then to the west, a group of five hundred was on track to merge with another group of two hundred. A group of fifty had already cut off their route to the fortress of the Order of the Broken Stone.
¡°I need more, Brych. Look in every direction, not just at the town. Is there something you can tell me?¡±
¡°No! I don¡¯t see anything!¡± Brych cast his eyes around anyway, looking everywhere. ¡°I guess there¡¯s some dust in the air to the south. Could be a merchant caravan.¡±
Brin summoned some glass and then formed it into a spyglass.
Cid held it to his eye. It didn¡¯t work too well, so Brin blocked light and just projected the image of the goblins on the back lens when Cid was pointing it in the approximately correct direction. He swore and handed it back.
¡°It seems we¡¯ve stepped into a trap.¡±
Book 4 - Chapter 36
"Gather round, men. We have a situation," said Cid.
While everyone moved their horses to huddle up, Brin made a show of looking in every direction with the mostly-fake spyglass. Then he put it away.
"There''s a [Witch] in Dustrim, of unknown ability and power. In addition, at least three bands of goblins are converging on this position. We must assume that the [Witch] and goblins are somehow working in concert with the aim of destroying our Lance." Brin looked around to make sure the men understood the seriousness of the situation. "The group between us and the Broken Stone fortress is the smallest. If we move quick we should be able to break through. Then we can rally their knights there and ride to save Dustrim."
Cid shook his head. "We can''t get there and back in time. That group to the south will go straight through the town on their way to us."
Had Brin unconsciously traded the lives of the people in that town for the lives of his men? Maybe he had, but now that Cid pointed it out he knew they couldn''t leave the town to rot.
"We can ride to the southest. The goblins following us will change their course away from the town," said Brin.
"And if they aren''t after us they will continue on to destroy the town regardless," said Cid. "No. Our duty is clear. We will enter the town and defend it against the goblins. The only part I''m not sure of is the [Witch]. Brin, you''ve faced [Witches] before. Tell us how to subdue her."
"Let me make one thing clear; there is no way to subdue a [Witch]. If we enter that town, we will have to kill her. She will not look like a [Witch]. She will likely look young and beautiful. She will definitely appear to be innocent. There will only be one chance to strike her down: before she opens her mouth for the first time. [Inspect] will not call her a [Witch]. You will not see her commit any crimes. Marksi will detect her, I will point my finger, and then every single weapon in this Lance will aim for her neck. If there is a single member of this Lance who thinks that he cannot strike down an unarmed woman in broad daylight, then please raise your hand now."
No one raised their hand, and Brin wished that someone would. He could use that to say that the Lance wasn''t determined enough and convince Cid to stay out of Dustrim. He eyed them one by one, pleading with his eyes, hoping that someone would give him the excuse, but no one did. Even Cowl met his eyes, looking calm and placid as always.
Brin resigned himself. "Alright. Let''s move. I want Anwir, and I want Brych. The rest of you act natural."
The two he''d called out rode up next to him, but the rest of the men followed along silent as the grave. That was fine for now.
"Anwir, your arrows fly faster than anyone else can move. I''ll be depending on you to hit first," said Brin.
Anwir nodded.
"Brych, you can move faster than anyone else in the Lance, except for Hedrek and Cid when they use [Knight''s Charge], but I need them to save their strength for the goblins. You''ll need to get there first and use that new sword the Order gave you to take off her head. Don''t stab her in the heart; it might not be where it should be. Take the head. Can you do it?"
Brych nodded.
"Let me see if I can even the odds," said Brin.
He pulled a spare bottle of water from his satchel, and then used [Celebrated Creativity] to change its status. He''d created this, after all, by pouring water into a bottle, and that was enough for the Skill.
Potion of Invisibility
Brin handed it to Brych, whose eyes popped when he took it. "Wait, is this seriously...? Where''d you get it?"
"Doesn''t matter. When I say, drink it and then roll off your horse the second it takes effect," said Brin.
He needed three spells to get this right. He cast Copy Image to get the picture of what Brych looked like sitting on his horse, then he needed to cast Invisibility on Brych, and then he cast the Mirror Man spell he''d made himself in order to recreate a glass version of Brych sitting on his horse. It needed to be done all in one long chained spell, because Brin didn''t currently have a way to store images. He could remember things very well with [Memories in Glass], but he couldn''t copy images from his memories yet, only the words of the spells he''d used.
He prepared the spells and said, "Now."
Brych gulped down the potion and said, "It tastes like water."
Brin cast Copy Image, then Self-Invisibility. When he started on the Mirror Man spell, he started chanting the words of Language out loud, hoping Brych would get the picture. Brych noticed himself starting to fade and yelped, then rolled off the horse, just in time to avoid the glass bubble Brych forming in his place.
If the [Witch] had an [Illusionist] watching them, then they were probably screwed. But anything less than that and all they would''ve seen was Brych bobbing down in his saddle for a second only to come back up again.
"Good enough." Brin looked at the glass Brych when he spoke. "Keep up. I know it''ll suck to run beside the horses for the next couple miles, but try to do so quietly."
"Yes, sir," the real Brych said in a whisper.
Cid peered at glass Brych curiously. "How long will that last?"
"As long as it needs to," said Brin.
The potion excuse was paper thin, but at least it was something. He toyed with the idea of just giving up and telling everyone his secret, but he didn''t think it would actually be beneficial here. They''d be too distracted about his Class that they wouldn''t be focusing on the [Witches] and the goblins. He needed them focused.
He was sure that Brych and Cid had suspicions, though. Brych because he undoubtedly had Value Sense to inform him that Brin''s "potion" was only worth the glass it came in, and Cid because he was smart.
He heard Meredydd mutter to Aeron, "He could''ve outfitted the entire Lance for the price of that potion."
Aeron responded, "If it saves us from a [Witch], it was worth it."
Brin ignored him and focused on what else he could do. He split his mind in half. Half of him would stay here with the Lance and focus on killing the [Witch]. The other half would do... everything else. He needed to send an Invisible Eye back to the Order of the Broken Stone. Once there, it could transform into a Mirror Image of Brin and he could tell them about the goblin horde and beg for aid.
He also sent other Invisible Eyes to the other groups of goblins. The aim for them would be to distract them and slow them down. If he could get one of the groups to follow an illusory Lance a completely different direction, then all the better. At the very least he could make sure that the groups all arrived at different times so that the Lance wouldn''t have to face them all at once.
He left his copy to the work and focused back on the present. Was there any more preparation he could make against the [Witch]? Possibly, but he didn''t want to do too much. Too many illusions and he might accidentally give himself away before they even saw her.
The single Invisible Eye he sent ahead reached the Public House and went inside. His eyes were immediately drawn to a woman in the center of the room. She was sitting on a table with her feet on a chair, and sang a song while looking down at a crowd of admirers. There was a stage near the back of the room where [Bards] would perform, but it was empty and all eyes were on her.
She was beautiful. Golden hair ran down her back like a river of honey. Her blue eyes were so deep they were nearly violet, and the red dress that tightly hugged her figure had no business in a small town like this. He used [Inspect].
Beautifica Delicatessa
Level 15
Weaver
Of course she was a [Weaver]. [Know What''s Wyrd] didn''t work quite as well through his illusions as [Know What''s Real], but both Skills told Brin that something was off about her, as if he didn''t know already.
He''d found the [Witch]. He thought about sending a lance of glass straight through the wall to take her out, but no, he couldn''t risk that. He needed to be sure, and [Know What''s Wyrd] wouldn''t give him the whole picture until he was standing in the room.
Also the fact that it was so obvious that this woman was a [Witch] was starting to make him think that she actually wasn''t. He wouldn''t know for sure until he saw her in person.
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"Alright, we''re getting close. Everyone act natural," said Brin.
The men stayed cold and silent, scanning every inch of the terrain as if they expected a monster to be hiding under every stone.
"I mean it! Act natural! If the [Witch] suspects we know she''s there, we''ll have bleeding diarrhea before we step foot into town. Idle chatter, please!"
They all started talking at once, nervous and loud. "Not like that!" Brin said. "Like normal. Hedrek, tell us a funny story or something."
Hedrek pulled on the metal collar of his breastplate, for once not acting like he was above it all. "Oh, um... have I ever told you about the time I charged a troll from the back of a goat?"
Despite his initial nervousness, Hedrek quickly lost himself in his story and was soon chatting as happily as ever. The men picked up on his energy and started chatting as well, and if they still overcompensated a little, it''s not something anyone would realize unless they knew them.
They approached the short, useless walls of piled stone and the barrier of Wyrd that ringed the town. As soon as they crossed them, they''d be under the [Witch''s] power to some degree. That didn''t mean they''d be cursed right away, just that crossing into town gave the [Witch] some kind of claim on them. Still, he really wished there was some other way.
Marksi growled and then jumped down from Brin''s horse. He scampered ahead and went straight to the stone fence. Marksi made a groan of effort as he pulled one of the stones down and away. He grew his arms longer and pulled on another, needing to rock it back and forth to get it to fall away. This job would be simple for any of the men, but for Marksi who was moving stone larger than his head, it was extremely difficult. As he worked, his arms continued to transform, growing thicker and stronger.
"What''s he doing? Should we help him?" asked Hedrek, pausing his story.
"No," said Brin. He didn''t know what Marksi was doing, but he saw that the Wyrd along the fenceline wasn''t affecting him. Brin had a hard time telling the difference between the sympathetic link between the two of them and his own imagination, but he had a strong impression. Marksi was thinking something like, A dragon cares not for the arbitrary borders of man or witch. He goes where he wishes!
Brin and the Lance were near the line of Wyrd right as Marksi pulled away the last stone. Then he shortened his claws and dug down into the earth and soon burrowed out of sight.
Moments later, the boundary of Wyrd fractured and split into several streams, as if it were a beam of light and Marksi were a prism. He had no idea how the little dragon was doing it, but whatever it was, it was working. The Lance hopped their horses over the stone barrier and continued on across clean, Wyrd-free ground. Once they were passed, Marksi came up again and the line of Wyrd resumed its place behind them.
Brin made a mental check to make sure Brych was still with them, still invisible. Good.
He realized Hedrek had stopped talking. He forced himself to relax the frown on his face and said, "And then what happened?"
Hedrek blinked a couple times. "Oh. Right. Well, I thought that my [Knight] Skills were working on the goat because it went right where I wanted it to. Only then when we passed a blackberry bush..."
The town was quiet, and the cheerful sounds of the Lance seemed to bounce off all the walls, ringing hollow.
Brin felt a familiar sort of jitters. How screwed up was his life that he was getting used to this? Time seemed to stretch into infinity so that every footstep of his horse felt like an eternity. At the same time, the short walk happened too fast and before he was ready they were already there, in front of the public house.
A couple of pre-System boys stood nearby to take their horses, and the Lance let them go with barely a glance in their direction.
Brin whispered to everyone with the Silent Voice. "I''ll go in first. Brych, slip in behind me. The rest of you find a reason to wait a few moments before going in. Anwir next, then Hedrek. Brych, we''re counting on you to take her out before she casts her first hex. Everyone else is backup."
Then he took a breath and stepped inside.
In person, he could trace the lines of Wyrd and it was immediately obvious that "Beautifica", if that was even her real name, was not the [Witch]. Streams of power were flowing into her, not from her. The first thing Brin noticed was that staring at her for too long would be considered rude, so he quickly tore his eyes away.
The real [Witch] sat heavy in the Wyrd, shining like a beacon to Brin''s senses, though to everyone else she probably looked ordinary. A plain woman in her late thirties sitting alone at a table wearing a gray dress. She [Inspected] as Sadie Lovelock, a [Caravan Laborer].
Brin whispered to the team with Silent Voice, not moving his lips. "Don''t look at the woman in the red dress. The [Witch] is the woman in gray. Sadie Lovelock. Brych, take her out."
Brin waited, and again, the moment stretched into infinity. Nothing really happened. The distraction continued to sing, her admirers firmly entangled in Wyrd. The woman in gray didn''t move, and Brin didn''t watch her directly. They waited, each second thundering in time as if Brin''s heartbeat were as loud and slow as a gong.
He waited, and Brych didn''t strike.
He felt the [Witch''s] power start to creep over him. He''d been standing there a long time, blocking the doorway. Wasn''t that rude?
The door opened behind him, Anwir and then Hedrek. Hedrek had a hand on his hilt, while Anwir tried to look casual while holding his bow and an arrow.
The two of them looked at him with a question in their eyes. Brin nodded. The three of them moved as one.
Brin didn''t get a single step forward when the [Witch] unleashed a hex. The room filled with Wyrd, violent and vast, as if they''d just stepped onto an active volcano. He pushed his magic into a beam of light to press it back and give him an argument in the Wyrd.
The [Witch''s] curse was strong. It was as strong as Siphani''s had been, after she''d spent months setting up an array and building power. This was a [Great Witch] at least, which meant that they were screwed.
Brin switched from trying to resist the power to funneling it away from the other men and into himself, and then his entire world was erased in pain. The only reason he didn''t come apart at the cellular level was because despite her power, the [Great Witch''s] argument was incredibly weak. He hadn''t crossed any of her lines, this wasn''t actually her home, and she''d attacked him first. The Wyrd was siding almost entirely with him. Even so, her power might have been enough to undo him except for the fact that she was the type to want to control rather than destroy. She wanted a slave, but she didn''t have enough of an argument to make him one. The Wyrd swam inside him, doing nothing except filling him with pain and fear. Brin could do nothing but stand and watch with uncomprehending eyes.
Anwir¡¯s arrow struck her in the chest. At the same instant, the window behind the [Witch] exploded and Govannon came through. In one fell movement he spun and put his sword into the woman''s neck. The sword slowed as it hit her skin, hitting something much tougher than human flesh should be, but he put his back into it and pushed forward, cutting straight through.
The [Witch''s] head tilted forward, falling to the floor, but then black strands grew from her neck and caught it, pulling it back into place.
Govannon reacted quickly, swinging his sword, but it hit empty air as the [Witch] exploded into darkness and black, flapping wings. She flew through the window and out of sight.
Brin felt the Wyrd in his body receive a command. Return! Return to me and heal me! Help me escape.
The Wyrd obeyed. The pain fled, leaving lingering traces of poison and Brin fell to his knees. He barely had enough strength in his arms to pull his helmet off, and then he puked, covering the floor with something black and acidic.
He pushed himself away from it and collapsed onto his back. There were still traces of Wyrd in his body, and without the resistances that [Know What''s Wyrd] gave him, even this much would be enough to kill him.
People were starting to react to the sudden violence, yelling in alarm and backing away from the center of the room. He ignored them.
Heal me, he commanded the Wyrd left in his body.
No, it answered. It wasn''t exactly conscious, but it knew that it''s purpose was to harm not to help. He wouldn''t be able to turn it around completely.
Leave, he told it. Hurt only my skin on the way out.
"Agh!" It hurt more than he expected when the Wyrd exploded out of him, tearing his skin as it went, but then it was done. He was still slightly feverish, but already he could feel his strength returning to him.
The rest of the Lance was in the room now, and Cid knelt down by his side. "Oh, Maze of Sezorat, you look a mess. Stay right there, I''ll find a healer. But I need to know. Will she return?"
"[Witches] don''t survive long enough to get that powerful..." Brin''s mouth moved slower than he wanted it to. What was he talking about again? Oh, right. "They don''t live that long unless they''re cowards. She may send a familiar, but she will not return."
Cid nodded. "I''ll find a healer."
"I''m fine," Brin slurred.
He could stand. Maybe in a minute. For now, he needed to collect his thoughts. The [Witch] was nowhere in sight. Brych was in the corner of the room, holding his fancy new sword and spinning in a circle as if a monster might leap out at him from any direction. That meant that Brin had dropped his invisibility.
Right, the second the spell had struck him, he''d reflexively had all his illusions and minds return, which meant that he had a full accounting of what they''d been doing.
The Mirror Image he''d sent to the Order of the Broken Stone had found the commander and pleaded his case, but his pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Lothar had probably poisoned the well there. The Commander had agreed to send out scouts, but Brin had decided that would take too much time and created an illusory band of goblins within sight of the men on the walls. At that, they''d immediately sent out twelve Lances. Brin could string them along all the way to Dustrim, but they were still five or six hours away.
He''d also sent distractions to the other goblin forces, sending copies of the Lance to distract the goblins, and he''d led all three groups away pretty well. Except the closest group had quickly grown weary of the chase and decided to head towards the easier prey of Dustrim regardless. He figured all three groups were still going to hit the town no matter what he did, but now they would be staggered rather than all hitting at the same time.
This was the best he could really hope for.
He was starting to feel better. Why, though? His recovery wasn''t this good. Then he noticed that [Battle Fury] was fully charged. Yeah, that was it. Doubling his stats had been pretty effective back when he was still just a [Glasser]. During the Battle of Hammon''s Bog, it had changed him from a talented kid to stronger than most adults. Now it was changing stats in the 200s to the 400s. No wonder it was Legendary.
He stood, feeling surprisingly light on his feet.
"Are you alright? Lay back down, man!" said Cid. "Healer! Is there a healer in the town?"
"I''m good. I can fight," said Brin. He rolled his neck and tested his arms. Yeah, he could move just fine. He couldn''t hide the blood leaking from the joints of his armor, though.
"Not without--"
They were interrupted by the loud clanking of metal. Govannon grabbed Brych and slammed him against the wall.
"Where were you? We were counting on you! You could''ve ruined everything!"
"I... I..." Brych''s eyes darted around every direction.
"Stop!" said Cid, and Govannon turned to Cid with fury in his eyes.
"You did well," Cid told him. "I will find a way to recognize your merit, but I have more urgent matters now."
Govannon blinked in surprise and started to say something, but before he could, Brin said to Brych. "You did poorly."
"I hesitated. I should have--" Brych started.
"Now hold on. I don''t think it speaks poorly of you that you hesitated to strike down an unarmed woman," said Cid.
"You failed," Brin insisted, staring Brych down. He wanted to know why the man had hesitated; but Cid was right that now wasn¡¯t the time. "You have a chance to redeem yourself. I don''t think you will hesitate against the goblins."
"I won''t," Brych promised.
Cid said, "Good. Then enough of this; we have no time to waste. We must prepare to defend this town."
Book 4 - Chapter 37
"Lance, spread out and warn everyone! I want every man, woman, and child gathered outside the public house in ten minutes! Also, someone find me the town''s best healer, and your Reeve," said Cid.
"It''s the same man, with your forgiveness, sir," said the barkeeper. "We haven''t got a Reeve, but the [Cunning Man] speaks for the town. I can take you to him."
"Then lead on," said Cid.
Brin grabbed his arm. "While the villagers take their time to gather up, we should ride out and harry the approaching goblins."
"You''re not going anywhere in that condition," said Cid.
"I need to. I have a Skill boosting my stats, and that''s the only thing keeping me going right now, but it''ll lapse if I leave combat for a half hour. Here." Brin mentally altered [Hide Status] to briefly show his [Battle Fury] Skill.
Cid''s eyes widened. "How..? No, explain later. We''ll ride out, but not before you see a healer." He looked at the bartender. "You! Lead on!"
Cid left, and Brin took the opportunity to sit down. No one else was sitting; a panic was beginning to grow in the town.
The artist formerly known as Beautifica Delicatessa was still sitting at the table running her hands along her face and arms in growing horror, and Brin realized with a sinking feeling that she probably hadn''t been quite this beautiful when she woke up this morning. The [Witch] had probably altered her when she noticed the Lance approaching the town, just to serve as a distraction.
She now showed to [Inspect] as Eneuaw Pairs, and she wasn''t even a [Weaver]. She was a level 15 [Shepherd''s Apprentice].
Brin couldn''t help her now, and he turned attention away from her toward the panicked townsfolk. They ran in every direction, men shouting, children crying, dogs barking, and cats yowling. Cats didn''t usually yowl like that. Cats...
"Marksi!" Brin shouted. "Put that down!"
Marksi let go of the poor cat he''d pounced on, and the lightly injured creature sprinted away.
Brin frowned and leaned back into his chair. It felt nice to sit, but he soon started to feel like he''d fall asleep if he relaxed too long. To distract himself, he brought out one of the broken halves of the fire jelly core.
He started pumping in magic, filling it. He pushed it in quickly, until his Mana pool was completely drained. Then he took out the backup Mana potion he kept in his ring and drank it down. With his Mana pool filled again, he started putting Mana in again, but more slowly this time.
Even though he was watching closely this time, he still couldn''t tell how close the core was to being full. He hadn''t been imagining it; the core didn''t give any kind of indication it was near its breaking point, and it wouldn''t until it was starting to crack. He sort of wanted to use it as a backup grenade, but was it too dangerous for that.
He set it on the table while he thought. It had to be getting close, and the last thing he wanted was to set it off in here.
Suddenly there was a blur of movement, a flash of rainbow scales, and then his core was gone.
"Marksi, no! Give that back!"
He stood to chase Marksi, but got dizzy when he stood up too quickly. He saw Marksi take his prize and hide behind the bar. "Bad Marksi! Don''t eat that!"
By the time Brin got there, the little dragon was already sleeping on a shelf next to the till.
"Unbelievable," said Brin. How many weird, dangerous things could a little dragon eat? People kept telling him that dragons knew what was good for them, but Brin still shuddered to think about all that explosive power resting in Marksi''s stomach.
Well, he still had the other half of the core, and once he got it into the right shape again, being half the size wouldn¡¯t actually affect how well it worked as a laser medium, only the amount of magic he could store in it, which he was beginning to realize wasn¡¯t the best idea.
He also felt a guilty twinge of excitement. Did this mean Marksi was going to be able to do something really cool when he woke up? Brin had been worried when Marksi had eaten that Wyrd-enchanted spell focus, but it had given him his shapeshifting power.
"Hey, Cowl, do you mind keeping an eye on him? He''s fine sleeping for now, but make sure we don''t leave without him," said Brin.
"Yes, sir. But don''t you think you should sit down?"
Brin tried to think of something else he could do to prepare. Looking at his stats, he realized he had enough points to bring Mental Control up to the next threshold. He didn''t have anything in the sixth threshold yet. He added the points.
Alert! You have upgraded an achievement.
Controlled (Epic)
You have reached 273 Mental Control
+50% -> +60% focus and concentration. +50% -> +60% Mental Control attribute growth
In the past, Brin hadn''t felt much of a difference with the attribute Achievements, but now that he had [Multithreading], the effect was a lot more measurable. He portioned off a quarter of his mind to go try to distract the goblins again, and watched the other him work. He could now use six directed threads for the cost of five, and each of them cast their Invisible Eyes and Mirror Images much quicker now. The effect was small for each one, but dramatic when he added it all together.
Cid soon returned with the village leader. The [Cunning Man] was bald and wrinkled, and wore a black robe, and was covered with talismans of every sort. Animal skulls and diadems with mystical symbols hung from necklaces and from string around his wrists, as well as from the top of his crooked walking stick. He gestured vaguely at Brin. "Armor off."
"We don''t have time," said Brin.
"For anyone else, maybe, but it doesn''t take you long, does it?" said Cid.
Brin scowled and used his Iron Man program to fly his armor off in glass magic, then stripped down to his undershorts. His pants and shirt were wet with blood, and the skin underneath was sporting a bunch of interesting new patterns. The seeping wounds were circular with jagged cracks running through them, like police sketches of broken dinner plates.
The [Cunning Man], who identified as Omhar, narrowed his eyes at Brin''s older scars. "Some of these look... recreational. Did you do this one yourself?" He tapped the spiral shaped scar around Brin''s forearm with his staff.
"Nope. Tortured by a [Witch''s] familiar," said Brin.
"So this type of thing happens to you a lot, does it?" said Omhar. He pulled an amulet, a copper-gilded owl skull, off from around his neck and started muttering to it. The skull began to emit a blue smoke from its mouth. Omhar waved the smoke near Brin''s wounds and blew softly into it. The smoke followed his breath and landed on Brin, sticking to him. It quickly hardened all the blood it landed on, effectively sealing his wounds.
There was also a strong Wyrd element to it, though nothing that suggested Omhar was a [Witch]. Instead, Brin could feel Omhar''s magic persuade the magic of [Scarred, but Healing] in a surprisingly deft way. I''m helping you heal, so don''t resist my magic. Work on the blood vessels first, yes, that''s the way. Without [Know What¡¯s Wyrd], this could only be the result of years of practice and training.
"So? Not your first time?" Omar asked.
Brin needed a moment to remember what Omhar was talking about. "First time facing a [Witch]? No. They seem to be drawn to me, for some reason."
"Or you''re drawn to them," said Omhar.
"I don''t think that''s it."
"Good man, I''ll not have you impugn my Second as overly reckless. He advised caution when we noticed the [Witch] in your town, and only approached her on my orders," said Cid.
"Of course, sirs, I apologize."
"We should discuss the evacuation of the town," said Cid.
"I can give you thirty strong men to aid in the defense. The rest of us can hole up in the public house," said Omhar.
"How many goblins will we face, Brin. A thousand?" asked Cid.
Brin didn''t miss that Cid was assuming he would have an up-to-date estimate. He no doubt already suspected. Well, that didn''t matter as long as they got through this.
"About that many, but it separates groups. The fifty between us and the Order of the Broken Stone have taken on another twenty, but we can assume the Order will take care of them. There''s a hundred to the south that will reach us first. Then another 700, but there''s a chance that this group will split apart again. If so, we''ll face the 200 first, then the rest."
Brin had a quarter of his mind working to make sure that group split apart by showing them enemies in two directions. He didn''t think he could turn the goblins away completely, but making sure they didn''t all get here at once could give the Lance a chance.
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Cid looked at Omhar. "You''ll need to evacuate. If--"
"Sir, if we mean to harry the first group from horseback before they get here, we''ll need to go now."
Cid saw some of the urgency in Brin''s eyes and said, "Then go. Take the men. I''ll stay and coordinate the evacuation."
Omhar sighed. "There can be no evacuation..."
Brin didn''t wait to listen to the rest of the conversation. He hurried to don his still-bloody clothes and then used Iron Man to put his armor back on. Then he dashed outside, shouting to rally the men.
Moments later he and his Lance were on horseback, leaving the town behind. Behind them, Cid worked with Omhar to answer the age-old question: fight or flee. Cid wanted Omhar to leave. Then the Lance could stay in Dustrim and fight without needing to worry about protecting civilians, and it would also give them the freedom to flee themselves if they were about to get overwhelmed.
Omhar insisted that there were too many sick people. The public house was solid stone with wooden slats for windows. They could shore up the windows and use their strongest healthy people to make a worthwhile defense. If the Lance were fighting out in the open, they''d be able to hold out indefinitely.
In the end, Omhar won out even though his idea put the Lance in more danger, but only because he convinced Cid that there was no chance of evacuation that didn''t leave half of the sick behind.
Brin was more interested in the goblin band ahead of him and his rapidly dwindling [Battle Fury] timer. He had twelve minutes left, and riding at a full gallop, they''d only barely reach the goblins in time.
Once they were in sight, Brin started shouting orders at the men, using illusion magic to make sure they heard him. [Battle Sense] gave him the ideal formation, but really it was just standard cavalry tactics. Meredydd would lead with his lance and Rhun would protect him. Hedrek would follow behind, sewing chaos, with the rest of the men in a single file line behind, with Anwir hanging off to the side loosing arrows.
The goblins saw them coming and clearly assumed that their greater numbers would give them an advantage, because they ran towards the knights, shouting energetic war cries.
They were the perfect target. An armed cavalry might struggle against a tightly packed formation of foot soldiers, but the goblins couldn''t have been less organized. Some of them clumped together in a mass, but others formed smaller bands and edged off towards the sides.
Brin saw that his countdown would run out before they reached them, so he summoned a javelin of glass. He didn''t want to use one of the nice ones that Kartof had given them here, not if he didn''t know if he''d be able to retrieve it. Then he threw it high and long like artillery. It landed in the mass of goblins, and though he didn''t see any of them go down, it must''ve hit something because his timer reset. He had [Battle Fury] for another half hour.
Now he could relax and kill some goblins.
Meredydd chose a spot between a group of ten and the rest of the mass and charged. He rammed the biggest, baddest-looking goblin with his lance straight through, then let it drop. Rhun beside him didn''t have to do a single thing with his shield; the goblins weren''t ready for the speed of the horses.
Hedrek behind them chose the smaller group and cut through another goblin on that side, but didn''t slow to hit any more. Brin got another with his spear, and the men behind him took down one or two more. Then they were through. The goblins behind them roared in a confused mass as they tried to counter attack, but the Lance was already out of range.
They circled back around and struck again, this time Hedrek leading with Rhun. The goblins were more ready this time, but they still left a huge gap in their formation to exploit. Rhun batted away several clubs and spears, while Hedrek laid into them with wild abandon, taking down another three before he was passed. The rest of them men followed, each scoring a hit or two as they passed through.
On the third circle, Brin saw the goblins were starting to rally by the time the last member of the Lance was heading through, so it should be Rhun there. He ordered Rhun to the rear and had Brych head the charge with Hedrek.
If there was any cowardice in Brych when facing a [Witch], he displayed none of it against goblins. Leading the charge, he took a goblin¡¯s head off as he swept past, despite the fact that his shorter messer wasn''t as optimized for horseback combat as Hedrek''s weapon.
When they circled back around again, [Battle Sense] told Brin it was time for a shift in tactics. The goblins were shaky and scared; they''d seen a dozen of their number go down, and not a single knight. One big push, and he could send them running.
Brin ordered the Lance to form one single line, with all of them running side-by-side. They charged, and Brin yelled a battle cry which the other men took up. He amplified it with sound magic, making the sound truly terrifying.
The smaller goblins broke first, with the ones in the front scrambling over themselves to get away from the front. Larger goblins and leaders stood their ground, snapping and swatting at the cowards, until the cowards were all gone and they saw themselves standing alone. Then they turned and fled as well. When Brin''s group rode into the mass of goblins, all they had to do was stab at unprotected, fleeing backs. They rode straight through, and the goblins, now seeing their enemy in front of them, broke and fled in every direction.
Brin called the men back. There was no point in chasing down every single goblin, and they needed to get to the town before the second group arrived. They retrieved Meredydd''s lance, and he also had each of the men who didn''t have a weapon with a good range for horseback pick up one of the goblins spears. Despite being made of stone and wood bound with animal hide, they were surprisingly good quality, and reach was most important here.
They rode back to town, and when they got there found the place completely transformed. Many of the smaller homes had been torn down, the stones used to reinforce the public house which now looked like a small fort. The wooden slat windows had been filled in with stone, leaving only small slits for murder holes. They''d dug a pit in front of the front door with some planks to serve as a bridge, and even had battlements along the roof. They must''ve had several people with stone building Classes to get all of this done so fast.
Cid came out to meet them with Omhar, who quickly worked with Cowl to patch up the scratches and scrapes the horses had received.
Meredydd demanded everyone hand over their weapons and then squatted down in the shade of a half-torn down house to put a better edge on the stone spears. Several of the men with nothing better to do went over to assist them.
Brin kept his eyes to the west, where the group of two hundred was quickly approaching. This group moved in a chaotic mass just like the others, but there were a few small differences that made Brin nervous. One was that this group was led by a very strange goblin. He was completely covered in white mud and held a staff decorated by several sharpened bones jutting from the side. It wasn''t a club, though; something about the way he carried it made Brin sure it was a staff.
Goblin Chieftain
Level: 35
There was an unmistakable intelligence in the way the [Chieftain] carried himself and the way he watched the more animalistic goblins surrounding him. This was a threat.
His Invisible Eyes also got glimpses of something dark and flickering moving among the remnants of the group they''d destroyed. It moved too quickly and wildly for Brin to get an [Inspect] on it; he''d call it a shadow if he''d only spotted it once.
It was a slight darkness on the ground, a flickering wing in the sky, a soft touch on a fleeing goblin''s neck, and every goblin it touched changed its course slightly, and eased its fear. Slowly, delicately, whatever it was herded the disparate goblins back towards the town and the Lance.
"Shall we ride out and harry the next group?" Brin asked Cid.
"The Order didn''t really give us these horses to charge into battle. I''m really only supposed to use them to carry us from place to place. Otherwise, they''d have armor and we''d all have lances," said Cid.
"They''re a key advantage," said Brin.
"Of course, you''re right. As soon as Cowl and Omhar are done, then," said Cid.
Omhar worked quickly, and it was honestly the fastest healing Brin had ever seen. If anyone ever wondered why a town in martial-minded Prinnash would ever have a non-combatant as a leader, watching Omhar work would definitely persuade them.
They finished the work quickly, and then the entire Lance was riding out again. Cid rode in the lead, holding the goblin spear they''d fetched for him with visible disgust.
Ahead of them, the goblins approached, eager and hungry. They were already working themselves up into a fighting frenzy, but instead of charging ahead, they stopped. The [Chieftain] shouted and slapped the other leaders nearby him, and they called their goblins back, until they were one tight mass.
Brin couldn''t operate the same as last time. There were no small groups to pick off, and trying to charge all the way through would be suicide.
"Two lines of five! Harrying action. Hit them quick, then get out!"
Brin and Cid led one line, leaving Meredydd and Hedrek for the other. The two groups would separate, kill as many goblins as they could near the edges of the mob, and then retreat.
The horde shouted the four words they knew over and over as the Lance rode down on them, but still none of them broke discipline to either run ahead or retreat. Anwir shot from horseback as soon as he was in range, taking down one then another, but still the goblins didn''t budge.
Now that they were closer, Brin was struck with the incredible variety of these creatures. Most were furry, tan-colored, and ape-like, resembling the small groups the Lance had faced before now, but he saw a few that were dark red, and much taller and thinner, as well as five or six that were hairless and a pale blue. Different species, all banded together?
Even within the Plains Goblins they were all different sizes. Some were barely more than two and a half feet, and one awful creature was approaching nine feet.
They drew close, and the Lance lowered their weapons. All at once, the goblins let loose with a volley of stones. From his Invisible Eye, he saw Meredydd veer wildly to avoid a particularly large boulder aimed at his head. The smaller stones bounced harmlessly off all of their armor, but there was nothing they could do to protect the horses. Still, it was too late to pull off the attack. They could do nothing but commit. He winced every time a stone struck Nobility beneath him, but he needed to focus on the attack.
Brin and Cid slammed into the goblins in their path, each of them striking goblins down with their spears. They kept stabbing, quick as prison shivs, and then pulled out again, leaving the men behind them to deepen the wound.
On the other side, Meredydd was still wobbly from dodging the boulder and his lance was pointed a bit too far down when he hit the goblin line. A large goblin pushed it into the ground. That pushed Meredydd back in his saddle, nearly unseating him, and his horse ran further into the horde and then reared up and did the one thing a cavalry knight absolutely should never do: it stopped moving.
Hedreck turned his mount on a dime and rode straight in after Meredydd. In a stunning display of athleticism, he danced his horse around the goblins in his path, while using both arms to keep his longsword spinning, striking down every monster within reach.
He reached Meredydd, calmed his horse, and guided him out of danger. The men behind them opened a path, and then all five of them were out, riding away from the horde.
None of the horses were doing well, and Meredydd''s horse especially was bleeding from several weeping wounds. Still, they couldn''t stop here. Stones were already pelting their backs, and Nobility didn''t need any encouragement to leave the scene as fast as he could gallop.
When they were out of range, Brin didn''t consider turning around again for another pass. This wasn''t a group they could wear down with hit and run tactics, not with that [Chieftain] guiding them. They had no choice but to return to town and make a stand there.
With his Invisible Eye, Brin saw that flickering black shadow. He saw the [Chieftain] stop shouting at the goblins and start speaking in a way that sounded way too much like chanting. There was a rhythmic quality to his words now, almost a song. His staff started to vibrate, the sharpened bones bobbing up and down to the beat.
He lifted it in the air, and the bones split; they weren''t bones at all, they were beaks. They opened their mouths and screamed.
Caro!
The goblins picked up the word, screaming it all together. The strange black shadow flick between groups, spreading and magnifying the power.
They charged. Thrumming with the power of the [Chieftain''s] spell, they ran like an angry mob. Brin saw some of the little goblins near the front trip only to be trampled by the horde behind them.
Propelled by the power of the spell, they gained speed. The Lance wouldn''t have much time in town to prepare if they could keep up this pace.
Worse, the goblins were still accelerating. They ran faster. Too fast. Insanely fast. The goblins were going to catch up.