Chapter Five Hundred And Thirty Two – 532

Chapter Five Hundred And Thirty Two – 532

Winter clung hard to the foothills of the Rimefang Mountains. Storms of ice and sleet had blanketed the southern slopes for the past three months, coating ravines and gullies until every step was treacherous. Atop the ice were layers of heavy snow, piled high atop game trails and trade roads in equal measure, blocking the path of all but the most determined of travelers.

Or the most desperate.

In the close-packed streets of a nameless village, a small figure struggled through the heavy weather. He was bundled head to toe in fur and wool, until he looked less a person than a Golem. The snow topped the figure by at least a foot in most placesmore if you considered his tall, knitted capand ice tangled in the scraggly strands of a dark beard that showed behind a thick scarf. Even his eyes were covered by dark lenses, buckled to his head with leather straps, but his thunderous expression could be read in the tilt of his bushy eyebrows.

God damned stupid bullshit legs! Archie dug a heel into the ground, but groaned when he barely chipped the thick layer of ice. Cant walk! Cant even Stoneswim when I cant touch the earth. Fuck!

Ahead, the warm lights of the only inn for miles shone like a beacon in the gathering gloom, and Archie struggled on. He tunneled through half-worn paths, digging with his leather mittens as the snow kept piling on, threatening to bury him. The flurries were so thick that he was forced to rely entirely on his passive Perception Skill instead of his eyes.

Blindsense is level 56!

Cold Resistance is level 2!

Minutes later, he clambered up the steps of the inn, where at least most of the ice and snow had been removed. A solitary lantern hung next to the door, glimmering with sigaldry on its glass panes, and above it: an ice-coated sign.

Deerwick Inn. So this is Deerwick. Thought I had gotten turned around in the storm. He stomped his feet, knocking off all but the smallest bits of snow, and tried the iron latch. It turned as easy as the thick door swung on its grease hinges, and he was blasted with a wave of sound and glorious heat. Oh, yes. This will do for now.

Close the blighted door!

Archie ducked in, pulling the latch closed behind him, and was greeted by an absolute wall of people. Humans, Goblins, Hobgoblins, and even a few of those birdfolk stood in tightly packed groups, their shouts and cries filling the space to the rafters. The majority of the crowd, however, was decidedly Dwarven, same as every town south of the Rimefangs. He spotted Goldspinners, Shieldbreakers, even a few Rockjaws wearing their dumb iron masks. All of them bore their clan glyphs proudly on their left shoulders, and in typical Dwarven fashion it was displayed with as much ornamentation as they could afford.

Middle of a snow storm, and theyre still dressed like theyre at a party. Archie had spent far too much time among the Dwarves, and he knew they would knife their own mothers if itd help them flaunt their wealth. Back in Birchstone, it had been almost a game to see how extravagant their feasts and galas could become, all while dealing in rumor and gossip and politics. Archie snorted. Hed had enough of that to last him a lifetime.

The sound was overwhelming, the smell ripe, but the heat could not be denied. He took off his cap and scarf, releasing a tumble of dark gray curls and an unkempt black beard. The goggles stayed on, by necessity. His face was red and numb, from his jaw to the tip of his stupid, bulbous nose, but just a few moments inside the inn had them all tingling painfully. He loved it.

Archie made his way to the counter, careful to keep his hands to himself as he slid through the shifting crowd. Wandering hands in a world of Tempered warriors was a good way to end up dead. The place was packed tight, owing perhaps to the strains of upbeat music at the far end of the room, but if more was going on Archie couldnt make it out. He had learned early on that his newfound height made simple things hed taken for grantedlike seeing over the heads of folks in a crowdout of his reach for good. His Blindesense helped, but it would never replace the convenience of his natural sight. Not to him.

Still, he made it to the counter in one piece and, after leveraging himself up onto a stool, flagged down a server.

Just came outta the cold, love? Whatll it be? A bit of warm supper and a room for the night? She was a matronly Dwarven woman with red hair liberally streaked with white and a bodice cut entirely too low. She smirked at Archie's wandering eyes, not bothering to cover up. Perhaps some company? A handsome Gnome like yourself wouldnt find it too hard on the purse.

The servers words were thickly accented and almost faster than he could follow, but the twinkle in her eye was unmistakable. He smiled wide. As tempting as that might bejust a meal and a room, if youve the space.

We do, though itll be bunking out here with this lot. Were about packed up, what with the storm an all.

Out here? Archie kept his smile, but it was a struggle. He had no interest in sleeping where just anyone could reach him. Focusing his Willpower, Archie ran two fingers across the bartop, gathering sticky ale, cold stew, and the gritty remains of salt. Are there really no rooms?

She leaned forward as if to support herself on an arm, but her posture suggested something far different. Weve a couple rooms, but theyre for a morediscernin sort.

Strongarm tactics, eh? Archie reached out and casually let his two fingers trail along the Dwarven womans hand, leaving a patch of salt sticking to her. Inside of him, a warmth uncoiled like a spool of thread to gather atop her knuckles, glowing an unearthly red-violet. Come now. Surely you could spare a private room for me.

Innocuous Suggestion.

A veil fell over the womans face, though not one just anyone could perceive. Archie saw it happen, but only because it was his own Skill, and even then it was barely discernible. He had used Innocuous Suggestion a great many times in the past year, and it was one of his greatest tools. It built up a filter of sorts between the servers Mind and Body, and inside that filter was a single fact: that Archie was an old friend.

Oh! Oh, its you. Howd I not notice? Of course I can get you a private room. Itll just cost an extra silver on top. Place is packed, yeah? she said, straightening her posture. Archie was tempted to press her for a discount, but he was too tired. He had the coin, at least for now. Just the one night?The debut release of this chapter happened at Ñøv€l-B1n.

As if on cue, the light of the fire seemed to thin, and shadows sprung from the corners and crevices to gather upon the small stage. As the Henaari spoke, those shadows danced, forming people that fled before monstrosities many times their sizeuntil another landed atop them in flashes of blue and red-gold, as if the fire had been caught within the dark.

The Lord, called Autarch, liberated the Territory of its threats, both mortal and monster, serving the people as did the Lords of old. All were welcome in Nagast, all were flourishing. But all was not well.

The shadows changed, turning to cheering crowds as the figure burning with an inner fire stood at their peak. Among him were others, a figure with a spear, one with a chain, many with robes and staves, even a man Archie could have sworn was a Dwarf, bearing two burning axes. Then, with a change in tempo, walls erupted around them, and the sound of drums intruded. So caught up, Archie didnt even bother trying to figure out where the drums were coming from, and could only watch as those figures were approached by armies.

The Hierocracy grew jealous of this Lords power. Afraid. They sent battalions of Inquisitors and Paladins to take back the Territory. Three large shapes rose above a sudden forestManashipsand they disgorged hundreds. Thousands. The land was beset, their Lord helping another Territory through trials of their own.

Fire spawned among the dark, burning the wall and the people atop it. Many fell as the music sped faster and faster. Though they fought with all their might, the new people of Nagast could not overcome the Hierocracy. Not when the High Guard arrived.

Rapt or not, that drew a gasp of horror from the crowd. Archie didnt know why, but when four figures head and shoulders bigger than the average soldier appeared, he soon grasped the context. Swaths of the defenders were mowed down, the walls were broken, and everything seemed to be teetering on collapse.

Yet in their moment of direst need, the very heavens themselves split asunder and smote the High Guard. The Lord had returned, and he bore with him a crown of not one but two Territories! He rode from the broken sky atop a golden Dragon, washing the field of battle clean in an instant. The Hierocracy, broken and bloody, fled.

The Autarch of Nagast was triumphant.

Gasps turned to cheers as the hated Hierocracy turned tail. Archie hadnt had much exposure to the weird zealots, but not a single person hed met had ever much liked them. Down on the stage, the Lord floated above everyone else, a crown now glowing atop his featureless head as people below reached up in adoration.

Whyre you wearing those? said a small voice. Archie started, his senses completely caught up with the Henaaris performance, and spied a small Dwarven boy standing at his table. He was chewing a finger and staring at his face. Arent they hard to see with?

Archie looked back to the Windcaller, but the man was packing away his instrument, and conversation was starting back up among the crowd. Whispering mostly, all of them talking about this Autarch guy. Archie clenched his jaw, fighting back the irrational surge of annoyance in him. He wasnt even sure why he was mad. Arent you supposed to be turning a spit or something?

Im on break.

Archie rolled his eyes, knowing the expression was hidden by his dark goggles. He stood up, making the decision to go talk with this Windcaller person. Go have a break somewhere else.

A sound like splintering wood cut through the inns noise as the thick front door ripped off its hinges. Folks fell before it and chairs skidded across the floor as men and women rose with weapons in their hands. For his part, Archie could only stare, rooted to the spot like a deer on a busy highway.

No. No no no

A shadow loomed, black upon the moonlit snow, before it entered. A giant with a full helm, nearly eleven feet tall and covered in dark plate armor that gave no hint to their gender, but Archie knew. The sheer weight of her presenceher Spiritclung around her like the phantom of a foundrys flames.

It was her.

She wore no cloak or fur to ward off the weather, and her shoulders steamed as the snow boiled away before it ever touched her. Weapons hung from her like a portable armory, swords and maces and flails, strapped to waist, arm, hip, and back. She was an engine of destruction, and everyone could feel the truth of that in their bones.

You.

Archie just about jumped out of his skin, thinking that the giant woman had finally found himbut no. With everyone taking to their feet, she would barely be able to spot him. Instead she had a broadsword pointed at the Windcaller. The Henaari was watching her with a rapt expression on his face, as if he was happy to see a bared blade. Or was it her he was happy to see?

I am seeking a Gnome that smells of salt and stone. He is wanted for crimes against the Hierocracy. The air around her began to darken and the wood beneath her feet charred. Her broadsword burst into vibrant, golden light. But first: tell me more about this Autarch.

Archie barely heard the last, because he had already fled. Servers and cooks dropped pots and crockery as he scurried through the kitchen, and a few low level Skills followed after him, but he burst from the back doors and into the night. The snowstorm still raged, but he didnt carehe would have walked through the gates of hell if it meant he could escape that woman. A little ice and cold wouldnt stop him.

He had almost made it to the treeline when the screaming started.

Archie never looked back, not even when flames lit up the night.