(a/n: New chapter already? Again? Crazy. I hope you enjoy this and let me know what you think. Big thanks to Lucius Walker for all his help!)
Ch.8: Song of the Lonely Mountain
It had been two days since the unexpected defeat of the Winter Wolves, and word of the impromptu battle had quickly spread beyond the Adventure's Guild guildhall. The few Adventurer parties that still frequented the Arven City guildhall caught wind of the tale from Meldra, and after seeing Zasin, the foul tempered leader of the Wolves, deep into his cups and mumbling something about a pale demon, the stories spread even faster.
Rumors began to circulate around the guild, and within their associates and remaining supporters in the region, questions were being asked as to how an effective and brutal team like the Winter Wolves were defeated by a band of newcomers. People tried to press Meldra for answers, but the guildhall's receptionist and sole employee was tightlipped about it, which only fueled people's curiosity some more, which was just as Meldra had hoped.
The Adventurer's Guild in Baharuth was in serious decline, and rumors of an astonishing new party immediately earning platinum rank was an easy way to drum up business and earn some positive publicity for once. This business tactic seemed to work, as the sickly, raven haired woman saw more activity in the guildhall than she's seen in prior months.
It was nice to once again see citizens from Arven, the surrounding countryside and traveling adventurers stopping in to rest, resupply, take up new jobs, and share in the latest news and gossip in droves. It finally made her job seem more meaningful, which brightened her day.
Even with her years of experience, Meldra was surprised by how quickly these rumors have spread. Then again, part of an adventurer's toolkit is rumors. When on a job that has sketchy details at best, adventurer's have to mine for information, and often have to rely on hearsay and rumors.
"I hear their leader is a prince of a foreign land," one woman whispered to her friend as Meldra passed by, carrying mugs of ale.
"I hear he's as beautiful as daydream," the woman's friend whispered back.
Meldra felt a small smile form on her face. She couldn't help but agree, but she'd prefer to stay quiet. Let the people come to their own conclusions, even if most of them are inaccurate and outlandish - as far as she knew.
"I hear that the elf in their party is a member of the Elf Kingdom's royal family," a grey haired adventurer told his friend as they searched the job board for a new quest.
"Pfft, yeah right," his friend snorted
"It's true! The Elf King is said to have many children, hoping to pass on his incredible power onto a worthy heir. From what Bal said, the elf used a strange type of magic to stop his attack and paralyze him."
Meldra slipped past a silver ranked adventurer party sharing a hot meal and laughing about some funny story one of their members was recounting. The receptionist, while grateful for the surge in business and activity, was feeling a little overwhelmed. Ordinarily, the guildhall would see small, brief bursts of activity, hosting one or two parties, and then going quiet for days, weeks on end.
But now, if things continue as it was going right now, the receptionist might have to find an extra pair of hands to help around.
The receptionist narrowly avoided getting knocked over by a large adventurer who lumbered by, not really paying attention to where he was going and finally reached her destination, a table in the corner of the crowded guildhall occupied by a small group of adventurers. As she handed the adventurers their drinks in exchange for a few copper coins, the front door to the guildhall opened and everything went unusually still. She didn't need to turn around to know who everyone was staring at.
Standing in the doorway was Gareth and his party, the Good Companions. The bard's blond, almost white hair reached past his shoulders and his flawless features seemed to glow in the bright afternoon sun. He was still clad in his emerald cloak and orange doublet and topped with a feathered cap.
All eyes in the guildhall were fixed on the new addition to the Guild. Gareth scanned the crowded guildhall interior and frowned. He raised a hand and gave a wave.
"Hello everyone!"
Almost like a spell being broken, chatter and activity returned to the guildhall, albeit at a softer and more careful volume and pace.
Kane, the assassin in black, scowled and murmured, "It's like orientation day over again."
Meldra was puzzled at the man's words but shrugged. From what little she knew about them, the party was from a far distant country that she never heard of before, so she chalked it up to something that was from there.
Being singled out was not always a good thing, especially for adventurers. It usually painted a large target on your back, and can make life hell for the poor soul, like conflict with jealous parties seeking to knock their target down a peg, and even sabotage. Not all adventurers were in it to slay monsters and help people, some were petty, greedy glory hounds. If someone gets more attention or praise, it may reflect negatively on others, making them seem incopentent and makes jobs harder to come by.
Judging from some of the looks that Gareth and his party were receiving as they entered the guildhall, it seems that they already got themselves some potential rivals and enemies.
As the Good Companions found themselves a table in the corner of the guildhall, whispers began anew in earnest.
"A dwarf…I wonder if he's the one that made their weapons. Wonder if he'll make us some too..."
"Is she a half elf?"
"He's even more handsome than you said!"
Gareth, Randor and Lydia seated but Kane remained standing. The incredibly pale man turned and spoke. His voice rough and loud enough for everyone to hear.
"You know, it's not polite to talk about someone behind their back, especially if the people you're talking about are in the same room as you. If you have something to say, say it!"
That made most people quiet down and quickly look away in an attempt to avoid the assassin's cold, dark eyes.
Meldra shivered. Although the dark haired man often seemed cordial and polite, the few times she's seen him get serious made her pity anyone who incurred his wrath.
Fearing that someone might try to start trouble, the receptionist quickly went over to their table.
"Welcome, Mr. Kane!" Meldra greeted him with a smile. "Welcome, Mr. Gareth! How may I help you today?"
"Nothing by way of food or drink this time, Meldra" Gareth said, taking off his cap. "We were hoping any jobs worthy of our skill had cropped up."
"Right."
Meldra was beginning to wonder that herself. Adventurer jobs were divided and classified according to adventurer skill levels and ranks. A high level job would require a high level adventurer or party, while a low level one can normally be taken by anyone, but was usually reserved for newcomers and the numerous low ranked parties. Arven's guildhall had slim pickings when it came to jobs, even more so when it came to high leveled jobs. The Winter Wolves had already taken care of some of them, and before them, another high level party took care of a number of risky jobs that had collected dust on the job board for sometime.
Meldra glanced at the job board and saw that there didn't seem to be anything worthy of a Platinum ranked team, let alone gold rank.
"I'm afraid not," Meldra said slowly, turning back to Gareth "But there might be something coming in today."
"Ah well." the bard shrugged with a grin. "In that case we'll take some ale."
"Coming right up," the receptionist nodded, and went off to fill the party's order.
When Meldra disappeared through the door behind the counter, Kane looked at Gareth.
"I don't see why we keep coming here," the vampire grumbled. "We got our little club membership cards, so can't we just, I don't know, go home to the Bronze Ox already?"
"We could," the bard said, "but remember why we're out here. We're here to collect information and explore this new world. What better way than to take on a real life quest and earn some money?"
"We already have money."
"Yes, but you stole it"
"From a rapey asshole who you turned insane with magic."
Gareth frowned. "Fair enough. But this is an opportunity to learn how this world works and make friends."
Kane folded his arms "I don't know. I don't think that we're doing that a good job of it. From what I can hear, half of the people in this building either want to kill you or to screw you, in the fun and not fun kind of ways."
"Do you have any better ideas?"
"Yeah, not joining a weird medieval paramilitary organization filled with members who are as emotionally stable as a group of high schoolers on steroids. Maybe we could just capitalize on your music abilities. You're a bard! I bet that you can set up on some street corner and play "Wonderwall" a hundred times and we'd be swimming in cash and chicks."
"That's your big idea? To become a busker?"
Kane shrugged. "Sure, why not? We'd be making money and we wouldn't be risking our lives."
"Hey, you!"
The vampire sighed. "Very often."
He looked up and saw an angry looking man with a scar that went from his lips to his chin, holding a sword with saw-like teeth.
"Can I help you?" Kane asked sarcastically
"You guys are the ones who defeated the Winter Wolves?" the man growled.
"Ye~p!" The vampire replied, popping the 'p.' He gave the sword wielding man a look. "You want an autograph?"
"There's no way a couple of punks like you could beat that prick Zasin."
"Well, we kind of did."
"Get up!" the man snapped, taking a few steps back and assuming a fighting stance. "Come on! Show me what you're made of!"
"Heo, don't," warned a tall, grim faced adventurer. "They're not worth it"
"Well…" Kane began to retort but was cut off by Heo.
"Shut up, there's no way that a sorry bunch of clowns like them can make platinum rank that quickly."
"I'm sorry but we did," the vampire simply said, "and I don't know what to tell you, man."
"Then stand up and fight!"
Kane rolled his eyes and looked at his brother. "Seriously, what is wrong with these people? We've been in town for only a few days, and we're already butting heads with everyone we meet. I'm afraid to take a shit, otherwise I'd soil somebody's honor or something."
He turned to the man and waved a dismissive hand. "Shoo fly, don't bother me."
Heo's face turned red. "What did you call me?"
"A fly," Kane said, his voice turning hard. "Because that's what you are to me: annoying and loud, buzzing about trying to get my attention. I am giving you an opportunity to walk away now before you embarrass yourself, or worse. If not, then you shall be treated like a bug."
Heo scowled and looked ready to attack, but as the scarred adventurer gazed into the vampire's eyes, any resolve he had to fight quickly evaporated. The man's face grew pale and his hands began to tremble. Heo mumbled a soft apology that almost went unheard, and quickly retreated from the guildhall. When the door slammed shut, Kane kicked his feet up on the table.
"Well, that was boring," Kane snorted, lacing his hands together behind his head. "Anyone else want to start unnecessary conflicts they can't finish?"
No one answered, and soon the guildhall grew at ease and was filled with activity once more.
"Seriously though," Kane said to Gareth "I'm getting a little tired of being challenged to a duel by these knuckle draggers. If I get challenged one more time, I will murder-"
"Gareth! Kane!" A familiar cheery voice cried out.
The two looked and saw Sylvia and the rest of the White Clovers enter the guildhall. The vampire spotted Leto, and when the blond swordsman scowled at him, Kane sighed deeply and began to wonder where Meldra and their ale were.
"Here you go!" As if one cue, Meldra finally arrived with their ordered ale. "Sorry for the delay. Bloody barrel got jammed."
"Thank god," Kane murmured, grabbing his drink and downing half of it.
Gareth gestured for the White Clovers to join them, and the party pulled up chairs and stools and joined their friends.
"Gareth!" Marcus greeted the bard with a smile. "How are you? We've heard about your battle with the Winter Wolves."
"You have?" the bard asked.
"Everyone in Arven has," Sylvia informed him. "It's the talk of the town!"
"Indeed," Leto nodded. "Zasin is one of the finest swordsmen in the region; one does not simply defeat a man like that and not hear of it."
"I suppose," Gareth said, feeling a little bashful. He didn't anticipate the kind of attention he was getting and was really beginning to regret it.
"So, what brings you into the guild hall?" Kane asked. "Looking for work?"
"Sort of," Marcus said, reaching into a leather pouch hanging from his belt, and pulled out a folded bit of parchment. The leader of the White Clovers unfolded the parchment and smoothed it out on the table.
Gareth, Kane, Lydia, and Randor studied the parchment. Sketched on the parchment was a mountain range with a block of text scrawled underneath. Kane didn't have a clue as to what was written on the parchment, but Gareth could make out a few words here and there.
Yggdrasil bards were jacks of all trades, having a little bit of everything, ranging from magic, to crafting. Among the numerous skills and paths a bard can follow, one such skill was writing. Bards can help craft magic scrawls, encode messages, and decode text hidden throughout the game. Fortunately for Gareth, he had poured some points into the decoding text skill and it seemed to be working. Sort of.
"An escort mission?" Gareth blinked, staring at the job description on the parchment, catching a couple of vital words here and there. "Through the Azerlisia Mountains?"
Marcus nodded. "Aye. It was a job posted for Workers over at the Black Swan Inn, however, the one who posted the job has extended it to the Guild as well, which is why we're here."
"What sort of escort mission are we talking about?" Kane asked, his interest somewhat piqued.
"Several teams of Workers and Adventurers are being hired to escort a very important man and his party into the mountains," Marcus explained.
"Why are we going into the mountains?"
"Our employer is rather...eccentric," Allen said slowly. "Apparently, he's had a lifelong ambition to hunt Frost Dragons."
Gareth and Kane shared concerned looks. Dragons were dangerous in Yggdrasil, and if the dragons here were anything like the ones on the game, this job sounded suicidal.
"Okay," Kane said slowly. "And where do we fit into all this?"
"Seeing as you are one of the few parties in the region that is above gold rank," Marcus explained, "we thought you would like to join up."
"It pays really well," Allen added, "even with all of the people that signed up already."
"Who's the employer?" Gareth asked.
"A very important man," Marcus answered with a serious tone. "General Zirdam Ginostus. He's the supreme commander of the Imperial Army and a close advisor to the Emperor."
Kane whistled, impressed by the news.
Meanwhile, Gareth raised an eyebrow. "Why would a man like that want to go hunting for Frost Dragons? Isn't that dangerous?"
"Like I said, General Zirdam is pretty eccentric." Allen shrugged. "He's a brilliant and brave commander, but he's rather strange. Then again, I can't really criticize or complain. He is a valued friend of the Guild, which is probably why the Emperor hasn't outright purged us yet."
"From what I hear, the old man's retiring soon," Marcus said grimly, "and he wants to do a few things before leaving the Emperor's service. I fear that once he's gone, the Emperor will finally do away with the Guild."
A solemn silence fell onto the assembled adventurers. It sounded like this general was the guild's only hope, and that from the sound of it, their days may be numbered. Gareth gave it some thought. The escort mission sounded simple enough, especially since they did have incredible powers to help them out, but there were a number of factors that made the bard hesitate.
Firstly, they were going up into the Azerlisia Mountains. From what they gleaned during their brief stay in Arven, the Azerlisia Mountains were cold, miserable, and was home to all manner of ferocious monsters like Frost Dragons and Frost Giants. Neither of the brothers know what they would be walking into. Anything could go wrong.
Then there was the matter of who they were escorting. General Zirdam Ginostus sounded like a very valuable person. If anything were to happen to him, the fault would probably land in the Guild's lap and could bring about their end. There was also the manner of pay. Even if they did receive a hefty paycheck, Imperial law and guild policy would suck them dry, making this trip not worth the time and effort.
Besides, this job seemed dangerous. Dragons were always bad news, even on Yggdrasil. So if they were going up against real dragons with the kind of firepower their digital counterparts had, there was a chance that they could end up dead, even if they were accompanying competent Adventurer and Worker teams. It also seemed too soon to take on a job like this.
Marcus noticed the uncertainty on Gareth's face.
"I know this seems dangerous," the leader of the White Clovers said, "but we hope that you could at least consider joining."
"It'll do the guild's rep some good if we had an impressive group of adventurers like yourselves take on the job" Allen added. "Plus we'd feel a bit safer if we had you guys watching our backs in those mountains, with all those monsters and Workers around."
"Expecting trouble from the Workers?" Kane asked with a frown.
"No, but you know how they are around adventurers," the archer said.
As Meldra arrived and handed each of the Clovers a drink, Gareth pondered the archer's words.
Workers were basically unregistered adventurers. They didn't have some of the benefits or support that the guild provides, and they were just as disliked by the Imperial government as their guild sanctioned peers, but the trade offs were tempting. Workers could take on any job they pleased, even ones posted on the guild's job board and got to keep more money than they would've if they went through the guild. Gareth and Kane had both heard some tales from Maggie, tales of conflicts between Adventurers and Workers. Workers often acted high and mighty, considering how they don't have to deal with as many restrictions as the typical Adventurer. A number of Worker groups active in Baharuth also gave the guild members in the Empire a run for their money in terms of skill. Groups like Tenmu, Heavy Masher, and Blazing Crimson each had solid reputations, and their skills could've easily earned them a high rank in the guild, but instead, they chose to be freelancers.
Despite all the variables and the possible life ending dangers, Gareth felt surprisingly calm, and felt like he knew what they should do.
"...We'll take it," Gareth finally said with a smile, causing Sylvia to cheer and Marcus, Allen, and Leto to let out sighs of relief.
"So, when do we go?" Kane asked, setting aside his now empty mug.
"First thing tomorrow," Marcus answered "We're to gather with the other Adventurers and Workers outside the city's walls."
"Who's a part of this escort mission?"
Marcus thought for a moment and answered in slowly and thoughtfully. "There are about a dozen teams going. Most I've never heard of before but I do know that the Worker group Dragon Hunt is advising the General during this mission. They've slain a green dragon once, and are knowledgeable when it comes to battling such creatures."
"There'll also be at least a dozen highly trained knights from the Imperial garrison along with the general's own personal guard," Allen added, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I also heard that the Emperor has sent one of his Four Imperial Knights to guard the general."
"Imperial what?" Kane asked.
"Imperial Knight," Sylvia chimed in. "The Four Imperial Knights are the Emperor's own bodyguards. Handpicked by the Emperor and are considered the strongest warriors in Baharuth, maybe even on the entire continent."
"Save for maybe Gazef Stronoff," Leto added.
"Which only proves how valued the general is," Marcus said. "If the Bloody Emperor spares one of his most elite and prized warriors, you know that person is important to him."
"No pressure, right?" Kane joked, and let out a loud chuckle, which drew some odd stares.
"No pressure," Gareth murmured, agreeing with his brother and taking a sip from his mug.
Although he didn't feel very nervous, the bard couldn't help but feel in the back of his mind that things are not going to go well on this trip.
Kane yawned loudly and scratched himself as he, his brother, and their NPCs made their way towards Arven's North Gate.
The city was still quiet, its streets were empty and had a faint morning mist hanging in the air. The streetlamps produced a faint orange glow as the predawn sky above began to brighten with the first light of the rising sun.
The vampire was still shaking off sleep and drowsiness while Gareth, Lydia, and Randor appeared well rested and ready to go. Kane never was much of a morning person, even outside Yggdrasil. He stretched his arms and mentally prepared himself for what may come on this journey.
They'd been gone from their safe and secure inn for close to a week, and already they've had to fight three, almost four, times. It reminded Kane of Yggdrasil in a way. Outside the various safe zones and cities that forbade PVP, players often had to watch their step or get caught in an ambush by Player Killers or rival guilds. Which was why Kane currently slept with one of his daggers close at hand and a healing potion in his pocket. In a world full of real fantasy monsters, you have to be prepared for anything.
The Good Companions arrived at the North Gate and found it wide open. A dozen guards in matching green tunics stood at attention and were very alert. When they saw Gareth and the others arrive at the gate, the guards stopped them and asked for identification.
The adventurers showed the guards their tags and told them that they were part of the escort mission. Seeing their platinum tags, they nodded and allowed them through.
Through the gate, the Good Companions were greeted by the sight of a large crowd. The crowd numbered over a hundred and wore clothing of varying quality: from clean and elegant clothes and armor, to old and worn rags with cheap armor and weapons. A short distance from the crowd were a dozen wagons and double that number in large workhorses.
A soft hum of chatter hung in the air as the Good Companions approached. Spying the White Clovers at the far edge of the crowd, Gareth and the others went to join them.
As they skirted the crowd and did their best to avoid being trampled by horses and supply wagons, Kane could sense that people were staring at them. He scanned the crowd and caught sight of some. Most seemed curious, others some seemed like they were sizing up an enemy. One made the vampire stare back in confusion.
Standing in the midst of the assembled Workers and Adventurers was a group of four that looked a little more well dressed compared to those closest to them.
Three of them were tall and looked like Adventurers but the fourth of their number, the one staring at Kane, was shorter than her comrades. If anything, she looked like someone's kid who got lost, especially with that dorky looking bowl cut.
What's that little girl doing here? Kane wondered to himself, and why is she staring at me?
Or was she staring at Gareth?
The vampire didn't know, nor did he care. He grew dismissive and annoyed with people who stared at him. Yeah, yeah, they beat up a preening prick who tried swinging his dick at someone who had the skills and the guts to chop it off. So what?
At first Kane thought that this new world would be fun, having powers and kicking ass. But now he was just getting annoyed by all the attention, the dumb questions and the slack jawed staring. The vampire was on the verge of missing home. Sure things there sucked ass through a straw, but at least he could just go home, kick back, have a cold drink and relax in privacy. But Kane decided that he just had to suck it up and keep moving. Kane sniffed at the girl, and hurried after his brother.
The Good Companions reached the White Clovers. Each member of the party was dressed in their finest armor and matching white cloaks with a silver clover stitched onto it. Lying in a pile on the ground were five large packs that looked ready to burst. Leto and Sylvia looked fresh and ready to go, while Allen looked hungover.
"Hey guys!" Gareth greeted with a toothy smile.
"Gareth!" Sylvia chirped, and ran up and hugged the bard. She released him after a few awkward seconds that felt like minutes.
"Glad you guys could make it," Marcus said, sounding pleased.
"So, now what?" Kane asked, sounding annoyed and bored "We hold hands and sing a song or do we grab each other's junk until something happens?"
Gareth elbowed his brother and gave him a look that said, "Be polite"
"Now, we just wait until our employer arrives," Marcus answered, not catching what the vampire meant.
"Goody!" Kane complained and he plopped on the ground and began tearing out blades of grass.
"He shouldn't be long now." Allen yawned. "The general is a man of his word. He'll be here soon."
The archer's words did little to comfort the vampire, who just sat in the grass and kept plucking them out of the ground. Randor followed the vampire's lead and sat down beside him and watched Kane intently.
Gareth sighed and looked out at the crowd of chattering people.
"See anybody familiar?" the bard asked.
"A few," Marcus nodded. He gestured to a quartet of plain looking adventurers. They were dressed in clean and well maintained breastplates and dark green tunics. "Over there is Screaming Whip, a gold ranked party. Not very flashy or famous, but they're dependable."
Marcus gestured to a few other groups who were also gold ranked, most seemed clean and presentable, but there were a few that they just crawled out of a gutter. Weather worn and beaten, these Adventurers wore ratty clothing that had been repaired numerous times and carried cheap looking weapons. Gareth was concerned about those groups, and worried about their safety and their ability to contribute to the group, but Marcus assured the bard that though they looked worse for wear, those parties were capable of handling themselves.
"What about Workers?" Kane asked suddenly, not looking up from his grass destroying activity. "Does one of them have a little girl in their group?"
Marcus blinked and thought for a moment.
"That sounds like Foresight," the leader of the White Clovers said. "They're the only ones that I'm aware of who have someone that young in their party."
"How good are they?" the vampire asked.
"Pretty good," Allen answered. "They fought in the Grand Arena in Arwintar, and I heard that they killed an Elder Lich and his army. Apparently she's a genius."
"She's smart, so what," Kane scoffed.
Leto snorted but Marcus spoke up to prevent Kane from hearing it.
"She's a genius, as in she has an innate magic talent. On top of that, she is a talented magic caster."
"Oh?"
Marcus nodded. "That girl Arche has a rare ability, even for geniuses. 'The All-Seeing Eyes.'"
"The All-Seeing Eyes? What's that?" Gareth asked him. Allen gave him a funny look, before he shrugged.
"It's an ability that allows the magic caster to be able to see the magic power and tier of magic users. Depending on how strong the user is, either they glow like a dying candle, or they can supposedly shine bright like a star."
Gareth and Kane unconsciously rubbed their magic items that masked their powers. Kane was suddenly very conscious of the ring on his finger, which, like his brother's silver amulet, served to conceal their true power level.
"...By any chance," Kane asked a little nervously, "what happens if they meet a very powerful magic user? I mean, perhaps godlike level?"
"Godlike? Psh." Allen scoffed at the idea. "That's unlikely"
"For the sake of argument, what would happen?" Gareth asked.
Allen shrugged "If you're asking whether or not they'd go blind, no. At most, maybe they'd pass out or vomit. All I know is that the more powerful the person or monster, the more visibly overwhelmed they'll get." The archer looked at Sylvia. "Right?"
"More or less." the mage with the dark red hair nodded. "I'm not familiar with the All-Seeing Eyes, but I do know that a powerful magical being can seriously overwhelm their senses, maybe even make them sick."
Sort of like a flashbang grenade, Kane thought.
"The only other mage that I can think of who has that sort of power is Fluder Paradyne"
"Who?" Kane frowned
"The Imperial Court Wizard and head of the Imperial Magic Academy. He's the strongest wizard in the Empire, probably in the entire world." Sylvia said solemnly "Some say that his powers are equal to that of the Thirteen Heroes."
The vampire nodded slowly and made a mental note to write this stuff down later. He was slowly compiling a list of people to avoid, which currently included a supposedly all powerful wizard and magic mega nerd who can see a person's power level.
A soft rumble could be heard and all eyes turned toward the sound. Allen straightened up, all sense of fatigue immediately evaporated. "He's here," the archer announced to the two parties.
Kane jumped to his feet with Randor, and the Good Companions and the White Clovers watched as a column of riders galloped toward the crowd. Leading the column was a pair of riders clad in violet plate armor that shined in the growing light of morning. Behind them was at least a dozen other armored men in ordinary silver armor. In the middle was a shaggy looking man with an eye patch and flowing grey hair that billowed behind him like a banner as he rode.
Riding beside the one-eyed man was a handsome blond man in dark, almost brown looking armor with a crimson and gold trim. The man had short yellow hair, blue eyes and a confident face. The riders circled the crowd and came to a stop at the head of them, with the mountains to their right and the city to their left.
The riders dismounted, and one of them helped the one-eyed man down from his steed. Gareth and Kane looked at the eldest member of the group, and immediately knew that this was.
General Zirdam who, despite his age, radiated strength and experience. The older man was dressed in a dark brown breastplate and had a long scarlet cloak draped around his shoulders.
Randor, meanwhile, raised his eyebrow at the sight of a fellow dwarf, who looked just as old as the general, who dismounted his shaggy looking pony and pushed through the press of finely dressed knights, who circled around the general.
Once he dismounted, the old man waved away the knights that surrounded him, grumbling under his breath. He smoothed out his cloak and stepped forward to address the crowd.
"Gentlemen, ladies," the old man said loudly and clearly, his hoarse voice like sandpaper. "Welcome. I'm glad that so many of you have chosen to accompany me on this little excursion, even if you're doing it for the money."
He paused, and allowed an awkward silence to settle on the crowd. A cool breeze swept through the group, and made the grizzled general's cloak to flap lazily. After a moment, the general gave the crowd a wolfish grin.
"Now that pleasantries are out of the way, let's get to the details of our little journey, shall we?"
The adventurers and workers straightened up and grew more attentive as the blond knight in the dark brown armor and the ancient looking dwarf stepped to the general's side.
"I'm sure some of you were wondering as to why Grolir of the Dwarven Embassy and Sir Nimble Arc Dale Anoch are here. Well it's quite simple really, Grolir is my guest of honor and our guide. Without him, we'd be lost and would probably freeze to death. As to why Sir Anoch is here, well isn't it obvious? I'm important and you're not. If anything were to happen to me, either the Fierce Gale of the Four Imperial Knights or the Bloody Emperor himself would exact terrible vengeance upon the culprit."
Gareth cocked an eyebrow. Jeez, tell us what you really think, the bard thought.
Kane smiled and whispered to his brother. "I like this guy."
"So let that be a warning," General Zirdam said solemnly. "But I don't think that will be much of a problem, considering what we're hunting. One wrong move and you're dragon food."
A brief wave of chatter swept through the crowd.
"Indeed," the general said, his grin widened, "You heard right, we're hunting Frost Dragons. Cold, vicious, unpleasant, can turn a man into a block of ice in a single blast of their ice breath. From what our scouts have reported, they've grown fairly numerous and may one day pose a threat to those who live close to the mountains, Arven included. The Emperor has sanctioned this little expedition, not because I'm his favorite uncle nor is it because of my boyhood dream of slaying one of those scaly bastards, but for the safety of his subjects. How magnanimous of him."
The grey general placed his arms behind his back and began to pace back and forth. "Which is why I have made this an official job for adventurers and workers, to anyone who is courageous or greedy enough to brave the harsh cold and help me slay some dragons. Be warned: Dragons are not easy prey. They're powerful and arrogant. Though not as clever as their lordly kinsmen, the average dragon is smarter than ogres and goblins and are twice as cruel. Watch yourselves out there, follow orders, and you may survive this long enough to earn your coin."
General Zirdam stopped and gestured to some men who stood before him, at the head of the crowd. "A you may already know, I have hired the worker group, Dragon Hunt, to serve as our dragon slaying advisors. You have a question about killing dragons, ask them."
Gareth and Kane followed the gaze of the crowd and saw this Dragon Hunt group. They looked fairly average and could've easily blended in with the crowd of adventurers and workers. Leading the group was an old bald man who looked far older than the general. The old man had wrinkly, leathery skin and wore green samurai like armor. He leaned against a tall spear with a red shaft. Judging from the way the general pointed at the old man as he spoke, the old spear wielder was probably the leader.
"Now then," the general said, stopping and turning to face the small army. "Any questions?"
Nobody said a word. Kane had a mischievous smile on his face, and was raising his hand but was stopped by Gareth. The bard knew well that his brother was going to ask something stupid that would've gotten them in trouble.
After a length of silence, the general clapped his gauntleted hands together, causing them to clack loudly. "Very good! Now, gather the supplies and be ready, we march in an hour. Anyone not ready will be left behind."
The adventurers and workers jumped into action as the clock began ticking for this important mission. Some of the weaker adventurers/workers began to talk amongst themselves nervously, suddenly doubting their own strengths and abilities. Others began to laugh and talk, as if they were going out for beer, either flexing their confidence or trying to hide their own nervousness.
Meanwhile, Gareth and Kane were still unsure on which side of the spectrum of confidence they lied on. On one hand, it's true that they are indeed powerful, being level 100. On the other hand, for all they knew, the Frost Dragons could either be on par with the dragons back in Yggdrasil, or could even be stronger for all they know. Besides, even if they could defeat and slay the dragons, the same most likely can't be the same for the rest of these people, especially the White Clovers, who they have grown somewhat fond of. On top of that, should they fail to defend the Empire's favorite group of people, it could mean the end of the Adventurer's Guild, and they would be partially at fault.
Horse pulled wagons were loaded and the adventurers/workers made sure that they had everything needed for the long road ahead. Soon, the Imperial Knight, Nimble, went through with the leader of Dragon Hunt, Parpatra, and divided the various groups into sections and teams, each with a responsibility. The Good Companions and White Clovers were paired up and assigned as rear guard, along with overseeing some of the lower ranked workers and adventurers. Leto took umbrage with the task but Kane was ecstatic.
"We got the easy job," The vampire told the furious young swordsman. "We just got to hang back and watch the luggage. Meanwhile, Nipple Knight and Old Man Paprika can lead the suicidal charge against the dragons, should we find any."
"This is an insult to my honor as a swordsman!" Leto fumed. "It is beneath me to be guarding a bunch of wagons. I should be at the front aiding Sir Nimble and Parpatra!"
"Are you saying that you wish to fight a pissed off Frost Dragon head on?" Kane asked. "And you do know that Sir Stumbles's primary duty is to guard the general? I mean, you heard him. If you get into trouble, you're on your own."
Leto opened his mouth to retort, but slowly closed it, realizing the truth in the vampire's words.
Kane put an arm around the young swordsman. "Take it from me kid, we got the best job in this whole circus. While everyone else is off sweating and bleeding, we're being paid to mind the luggage."
The hour of preparation came and went and General Zirdam, now back on his steed, directed them onward.
The general and his entourage started off, followed by the adventurers and workers with the supply wagons bringing up the rear as the sun began to rise over the horizon.
The dragon hunting expedition entered the forests north of Arven and continued onward, followed the road. Pale sunlight filtered through the dark woods. Scattered about the column of adventurers and workers, snippets of laughter and conversations could be heard. Gareth could tell that, despite some underlying tensions and hostilities between the various parties, everyone was in good spirits.
The lower ranked and shabbier Adventurers took turns driving, riding, and guarding the wagons. Every few miles the parties would rotate and switch from wagons to walking and making sure there were no bandits or monsters about.
The Good Companions and The White Clovers eventually got their turn on the wagons, getting to rest their feet for a bit and catch a few winks of sleep. Seeing as how Kane wasn't feeling tired at all and was currently chatting with the others, Gareth decided to close his eyes and rest.
When Gareth opened his eyes, the sun was high in the sky and the air had grown considerably warmer. The expedition had ventured from the main road and began traveling westward, following a narrow, crooked path through the forest. Judging from the overgrown state of the path, it looked like hardly anybody used or maintained it.
Occasionally, they fought a few wild beasts/monsters that dared to challenge them, or they had to cut down some bushes and trees that grew in the way. Aside from that, though, their numbers guaranteed their safety and privacy, and thus, not much happened on their way up the mountains.
The expedition eventually paused to rest and feed. The White Clovers were tending to the supply wagons and eating with some of the adventurers they were in charge of. The Good Companions sat not too far from their group. They gathered in the shade of a moss covered tree. Randor and Lydia had left Gareth and Kane to fetch some lunch from the supply wagon as the two relaxed.
As the two waited for their companions to return, Gareth studied the expedition members. Scattered about along the path, clustered into groups, the adventurers and workers ate, drank, and rested. Further up ahead, Gareth spied Grolir the dwarf speaking to the general, who was surrounded by his violet armored personal guards and the silver cladded imperial soldiers. The general was drinking from a waterskin, seemingly unaffected by the journey or the heat. The dwarf said something and the general didn't seem to acknowledge or react to what the old dwarf said.
Among those close to the general was the old man from Dragon Hunt, Parpatra, who appeared concerned.
"Wonder what they're talking about," Gareth said aloud and looked sideways to his brother.
"Something about the weather up on the mountains," Kane answered softly. The vampire was lying on his back with his hands behind his head. A pair of black lensed pince nez sunglasses was positioned over his eyes to keep out the brilliant sunlight that streamed through the canopy of branches above and landed on his face. "The old guy doesn't like the look of things and is suggesting caution, maybe even postponing this little venture."
The bard glanced back at where the general and his men were. The general lowered his water skin and said something. The dwarf's face turned grim, but he said nothing in return.
"I take it that going home now is out of the question?" Gareth asked.
"Got it in one." Kane acknowledged with a smile.
The bard snorted, before he noticed a young looking blond girl with very short hair staring at him. She was further up the way, closer to the front and with the more notable Worker groups. She sat there, her light blue eyes fixed on him. Judging from her appearance, Gareth assumed that this was that Arche girl Allen talked about. The bard felt weirded out by the staring. He worried that she could see right into his soul and see who he really was, but decided that he was getting worked up over nothing. If she did see something unusual about him, like his power, Arche probably would've done something about it.
Gareth waved at the girl and she just stared at him.
"Sheesh," the bard murmured.
"Is it the girl?" Kane asked, who was still lying there on the ground.
"Yeah"
"Creepy, huh?"
Gareth nodded. He looked at the other people she was sitting with, her team probably. One of them was a violet haired elf woman who was glaring at him. He didn't need any super senses to get that her look was a hostile one. The other two, a pair of blond men, studied them like a soldier would study a target.
"They don't seem very friendly, do they?"
"None of them do." Gareth agreed.
"Want me to beat them up for you?"
"Nah. We'll leave them. Sticks and stones and all that."
Kane nodded and sat up as Randor and Lydia returned from the supply wagons, bearing armfuls of apples, bread slices, and salted meat.
"Here you go, my lords" the silver haired elf said, placing the food on a bit of cloth they had laid out earlier. "Lunch."
"Thank you, Lydia," Gareth said, picking up an apple. He studied it carefully and cleaned it with his sleeve, before taking a bite out of it.
Kane grabbed one of the salted meat slices and procured a vial of blood from the folds of his black cloak, and covertly lathered it on as if he were buttering toast.
As the Good Companions were eating in silence, Kane turned to Randor.
"Hey Randor?"
"Yes sir?" the dwarf blinked, looking at the vampire.
"What did that Grolir guy say to you?"
"What's this?" Gareth asked, interested.
"Apparently Grolir and Randor had a little chat while you were out."
"Oh?" Gareth looked at the raven haired dwarf.
Randor shrugged. "He asked where I was from and why I traveled with two humans and an elf."
"And what did you say?" Gareth asked, genuinely interested and worried. While staying at the Green Dragon, Gareth and Kane discussed the possibility of using a cover story for them and their group. They already lied to the White Clovers and it was very likely that other people are going to try and get information about their past, so it would be beneficial to keep their stories consistent. They shared this idea with Randor and Lydia and, obviously, they accepted it wholeheartedly.
Randor stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I told him that I was from a far distant kingdom of dwarves that few have heard of, and that the people I am traveling with are good friends of mine who saved my life."
Gareth felt slightly relieved. He used the cover story as planned. Good.
"And what did Grolir say?"
"He just nodded."
The bard blinked. "That's it?"
Randor nodded. Gareth let out a small frustrated sigh. That wasn't helpful. While it could simply mean that Grolir was a dwarf of few words but it could also mean that they're fishing for information. They had to do something about this.
"Did I do something wrong, sir?" Randor asked.
"No, no, you were splendid," Gareth reassured him. "For now, we just continue as normal. If Grolir approaches you again, continue to act friendly and try to get to know him."
"Sir?"
"We're new in this world and we need friends," the bard explained. "It might help us if you befriended Grolir. Maybe we can learn more about the dwarves in this world."
Randor nodded, understanding. "Anything else sir?"
"You could try seducing him," Kane added with a smile.
"Kane!"
"Shall I?" Randor asked with all seriousness. "I can do so if that is what you wish?"
"No!" Gareth blushed. "Just-just be his friend. We don't want to cause an incident."
Randor nodded while Kane cackled madly, and continued to do so even though people were looking their way, including Arche and her team.
Gareth lowered his cap in an attempt to hide his face just as a familiar, electronic chime sounded softly in his ear.
The bard blinked in surprise. Someone was trying to reach him via [Message].
Looking about and making sure that no one was looking, Gareth raised his hand to his ear and tapped it, answering the call.
["Hello?"] Gareth spoke in his mind.
["My lord!"] Caroline cried in the bard's head, sounding incredibly relieved. ["Are you and Lord Kane well? Has something happened to Lydia and Randor? Shall we send a rescue party after you? We haven't heard from you in days, and we feared that the worst had happened."]
The bard cursed himself silently for forgetting to check in on Caroline and the others. The thought had been on the edge of his mind but with all the excitement they'd been having these past few days, Gareth kept putting it off until he forgot about it.
["No, no we're fine, Caroline, we're just busy."] Gareth assured the worried angel. ["We've been making great strides in our exploration efforts and lost track of time."]
["Thank goodness"] Caroline said, sounding relieved, though there was still a hint of worry in her voice. ["I'm glad that you are alright, but my lord, I am afraid that there's a...situation here at the inn."]
Gareth frowned, and felt a twinge of fear.
["What kind of situation?"]
Before Caroline could answer, one of General Zirdam's men marched down the line of adventurers and workers, bellowing, "Alright you lot, gather your belongings, we're moving out in two minutes!"
The bard scowled at the back of the man's head and tried asking Caroline to repeat what she had just said. For a moment there was nothing. All around Gareth, the knots of adventurers and workers collected their things and began to stir from their rest. Feeling a bit rushed and not wanting to raise a bunch of awkward questions by standing around with his fingers in his ears, Gareth spoke quickly and urgently to his NPC.
["Caroline, I know that you are fully capable of handling any 'situation', which is why we put you in charge. Take care of this situation in whatever way you see fit. I wish we can help or give you further instruction, but we are in the middle of a situation ourselves. We will return as soon as possible via a Gate. Please be careful."]
Gareth severed the link right there and helped his brother and their NPCs prepare for the journey onward.
A few minutes later, the expedition was on the move once more.
It was around sunset that the expedition stopped to camp for the night. Following their brief respite in the woods, the expedition carried on up the wild, unkempt forest road. They traversed the forest until they came to the start of their ascent into the mountains: a narrow pass that led up and through the mountains. The journey up the mountains was slow going. Everyone on the expedition had to keep silent and move as silently as possible in an attempt to keep their presence hidden from the various goblin and ogre tribes that dwelt within this part. The goblins were only somewhat dangerous, but from what Marcus and other more experienced Adventurers were saying, the goblins were the least of their worries.
The higher one went up the Azerlisia Mountains, the more dangerous the monsters got. Above the ogres and goblins, who kept to the caves and areas closer to the foothills and base of the mountains, were direwolves, manticores, and kobolds. Above them all were the Frost Giants and Frost Dragons.
The wagons bounced and shuddered on the rough, rocky path, and one wagon nearly went over the edge due to a sudden rockslide, but the White Clovers, aided by Kane, managed to pull the wagon back to safety.
Eventually, as the sky turned orange and gold, the expedition came to a spacious clearing that offered shelter from the cold winds that swept down from the snow capped peaks while also providing a breathtaking view of the land below.
The wagons were drawn into a circle, and the combined mages set up protective wards and shields against any possible night attacks. Once everything was secured and accounted for, the expedition's members made camp within the parameter.
Scattered campfires were formed for every adventurer and worker team huddled around each dancing flame, cooking and socializing as the night deepened.
The Good Companions and the White Clovers sat around their own fire with Screaming Whip, sharing a hot stew of meat and potatoes. As Gareth toyed with his bowl of steaming broth, the bard's attention was focused on the mountains that rose above them in the distance.
In the dark, the shadows of the mountains reminded him of dragon teeth, and made him shiver a little.
Gareth was by no means an outdoorsy type, very few were back home, but he always imagined what it'd be like to go camping out in nature like people did long ago. Well, he got his wish, only instead of bears and skunks, Gareth has to worry about dragons, goblins, and giants.
"Psst, hey. Hey!"
The bard blinked and looked and saw Kane. The vampire was staring at him.
"What?"
Kane nodded at his brother's untouched dinner. "You gonna eat that?"
Gareth moved the bowl away from the vampire. "Yeah, I am"
"Just checking."
"Sir Gareth," a new voice spoke.
Gareth and Kane looked, and saw that the voice belonged to one of the members of Screaming Whip, which came as a bit of a surprise for the duo. For the length of the journey, neither of them had heard any of the gold ranked adventurers speak, except for maybe a few brief words or questions relating to only the expedition.
"Yes?" the bard answered.
"Is it true that you and your party defeated Zasin and the Winter Wolves?"
Gareth nodded.
Looks of surprise and astonishment appeared on each of their faces.
"Why do people keep asking us this?" Kane grumbled in annoyance. "Yes, we kicked their asses, and we barely broke a sweat. Why is it so hard to believe?"
"S-sorry! I-I didn't mean to offend you, Sir Kane," the plain looking adventurer apologized hastily. "It's just...the Winter Wolves have an impressive record of victories."
"Had," the vampire corrected. "they had an impressive record, until they decided to pick a fight with us."
"And please don't call us Sir," Gareth added gently. "We're not knights. We're just Gareth and Kane of the Good Companions, two honest adventurers. Besides, our friends Lydia and Randor had a hand in dealing with their defeat as well."
The raven haired dwarf puffed up his chest and Lydia lowered her head bashfully.
"Another question," another member of Screaming Whip piped up. "Is it true that you're from a far away land?"
"That's right!" Sylvia chimed in, cutting Gareth off. "A land which none of us has ever heard of!"
"Sylvia," Marcus scowled. "Manners."
"Oh, right. Sorry."
"That's quite alright," Gareth chuckled good naturedly. "Someone's bound to ask us these questions eventually. But yes, we're from a far distant land."
"What brought you to the Baharuth Empire?"
The bard shrugged. "No reason really. My comrades and I simply wandered into these lands and, being a bard, I thought it'd be beneficial to stay and learn of these lands. We hoped to join the Adventurers Guild to see what adventurers in these lands do, how they lived, and maybe earn some money and do some good."
His explanation drew some nods and pensive looks. However, one of the Screaming Whips appeared awed.
"You're a bard?" the man asked.
"Of course, why else would I dress in this fashion?" Gareth asked.
Kane smirked. "I can think of three good reasons." The vampire received an elbow to the ribs.
"Can you play us a song?" the adventurer asked, setting aside his empty bowl.
Gareth blinked and hesitated. "I don't know…"
"Oh please!" Sylvia pleaded "We could all use a good song. This journey has been sooo boring!"
"Well, I don't know any songs that any of you may be familiar with."
Allen shrugged. "Doesn't really matter, we'll settle for anything, as long as it's good."
Gareth didn't feel like singing very much. He was full of anxiety, and his mind kept drifting back to Caroline. He worried about her wellbeing and of the others back at the inn. For all he knew, they were all dead now and he and his brother were stuck on some mountain and they were probably going to get eaten by dragons. Maybe they shouldn't have taken this job. Maybe he should've gone for that Wizard class when he first started Yggdrasil all those years ago. It was a sort of running joke among his old guild that the bard was in charge of the tunes. Occasionally, he'd pipe in some music from his playlist during a battle or dungeon raid over voice chat, silly songs or songs that got the guild pumped up, but nothing beyond that.
The occasional strumming and singing that he had done in the past were just practice and roleplaying. He only really knew how to play a few classic songs from a bunch of instructional videos online and countless hours of practice. Beyond that, Gareth wasn't at all confident of his musical abilities.
Before he could really protest further or offer a proper excuse, a new voice spoke up from behind him.
"Are you going to sing?"
Gareth turned his head and nearly jumped in surprise. Standing there was General Zirdam, Grolir, Nimble, and a quartet of the general's personal guard, the knights in violet.
"Y-Yes, yes I was!" Gareth laughed nervously. "Got any requests, general?"
The grizzled one-eyed man shrugged. "Can be anything really, just so long as it's none of that sappy, sentimental drivel that bards usually screech at feasts and festivals, you know? Of 'glorious battles' and bold heroes rescuing fair maidens. I've heard them all and honestly, I'm over them. Those songs sort of lose their appeal once you've been in a real battle and seen your friend have his guts ripped out in front of you."
The bard swallowed and took a deep breath. "Of course" he said with a smile. He gestured to some vacant spots in the circle around the campfire. "Sit general, please. Rest your feet and relax by our fire."
Zirdam smiled. "Don't mind if I do."
The grey haired general walked around the group and plopped down across from Gareth. Nimble, Grolir, and Zirdam's guards squeezed in around him, pushing aside the White Clovers and Screaming Whip.
Sylvia pouted, having wanted to hear a lovely, cheerful song but didn't want to argue with the man who was going to pay her at the end of this job.
One of Screaming Whip's members offered the general his bowl of stew and his cup of wine, which the grey haired man accepted graciously, despite Nimble's feeble attempt at protest.
"Well?" Zirdam asked, after sipping from his cup of wine. "I'm waiting."
Gareth frowned and wracked his brain for a song he could sing. He took the general's criteria into account, no sappy or sentimental songs. Of course not, a grizzled old general like him probably wanted something to match his mood or desires. But what was the old man feeling? What did he want?
The bard activated his angelic senses and reached out and felt the old man's emotions.
Loneliness, sorrow, anger, guilt and remorse. Lots and lots of remorse.
To put it simply, General Zirdam seemed to be going through some depressing issues and should probably seek help. However, this oddly gave Gareth an idea. The moment he read the old warrior's emotions, a specific song came to mind, clear as day. He remembered hearing this song during a rather depressing weekend, but despite having heard it only once, Gareth could see the notes and the lyrics perfectly in his mind.
"I have a song for you, General," Gareth said at last. "It's not sappy or sentimental. I'm...I'm not particularly sure what it is."
The general raised a bushy eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Songs can be anything to anyone. A single song can have so many meanings to so many people that it is difficult to say for certain. But I can assure you that this is better than some trite ballad of knights and gallantry."
Zirdam raised his cup and belched. "Play on, then."
Gareth unslung his lute from his back and began to play. The tune was slow and sounded melancholy. The bard sighed and sang softly, "I want God to come and take me home, 'cause I'm all alone in this world. Who are you to me? Who am I supposed to be? Not exactly sure anymore…"
Everyone was silent as the music washed over them. For Gareth, the world seemed to fade into the background as he continued the song.
"Does anyone ever get this right? I feel no love...To be vulnerable is needed most of all, If you intend to truly fall apart…"
The song flowed by like a river. The bard felt at peace, relaxed. It was as if a piece of the built up stress and energy within him flowed forth with the words, carrying away some of the pressure and anxiety. Before he knew it, Gareth came to the end and he finished with a small flourish.
Silence filled the void that the bard's music left, leaving space for only the crackling and popping of the firewood.
The bard looked up at his audience and saw a mixture of reactions. Slyvia, along with some of Screaming Whip, looking said and on the verge of tears. Marcus, Allen, Bruno, and Leto were silent and unreadable. Nimble didn't seem phased, but General Zirdam looked surprised.
Gareth looked to Kane, who was off to his left, swishing around his cup of blood infused wine. The vampire gave his brother a thumbs up.
Following the length of silence, Zirdam cleared his throat.
"Well…" the grizzled old warrior sniffed and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "That was a surprise. Never thought a dandy little cream puff like you could sing a song like that."
Cream puff? Gareth thought, not sure what to make of the nickname.
"Well, that settles it!" Zirdam declared, rising to his feet "You'll be riding in front with my entourage."
"I'm sorry?" Gareth blinked.
"You see, I heard all sorts of talk about this...bard and his pals showing up that little pissant Zasin," the general explained "And I thought, 'pfft, there's no way. Probably just a fluke,' but apparently you're the real deal."
"How can you tell?" Kane asked, equally confused as his brother.
"Finding a good bard is rare these days," Zirdam continued "It's not just the instrument or even the songs they sing. It's the power behind their music. When a bard sings, in battle or at an ordinary gathering, an astute observer can tell how strong a bard is by the power they put behind their singing. You sir, are the real deal."
Gareth frowned. He sort of grasped what the old general was getting at but there were parts that still eluded him.
"T-thank you, general," the bard stammered. "But it wouldn't be right to split up with my crew, since we work better as a unified team."
"They can come too," the general said, waving a dismissive hand. "I'll rotate those putzes from Black Chalice to the rear guard. They're such an annoyance and I'm going to need every competent and powerful person I can get up front if I want at least half of us to get out of this alive. I already got Dragon Hunt and that little magical child prodigy, Arche. Might do us some good to have a bard of your level with us. Besides" the general gave the bard a humorous smile "we could always use some traveling music."
Gareth smiled lamely, but said nothing.
"Well, I'm off to see the rest of the men and collect what the elf girl owes me from our little...wager."
"What elf girl?"
"The one from Foresight." The general pointed towards Foresight's campfire "She swore up and down that you were just some pretty boy who got in on luck or money and we, Grolir and I, said otherwise. So, we made a small wager to see if I can prove if you were real and you are! Congratulations, you made me five coppers richer!"
Both Gareth and Kane were unsure how to feel about this, other than that they were starting to dislike this Foresight group. Zirdam bid the assembled adventurers goodnight as he departed, moving on to another crowded campfire.
Kane's head snapped over to where Foresight had set up camp, and saw the party inquisition eating quietly and talking in hushed tones.
As the White Clovers and Screaming Whip resumed their dinner and conversations, Kane and Gareth stared at Foresight.
The vampire scowled at Workers and growled. "What's their problem?"
"I don't know and I don't care," Gareth murmured "The sooner we get through this, the sooner we get back to the inn."
"Why?"
The bard explained to his brother the call he received from Caroline, and the vampire snorted.
"What?"
"I wouldn't be too concerned for Caroline, oh brother of mine," Kane explained as he gazed into his cup of blood wine. "I'd be more concerned for whoever gets in her way."
The bard felt a measure of comfort and concern in his brother's words. Caroline was strong, but he was concerned with what may be happening in their absence. He prayed that whatever was happening back at the Bronze Ox was settled without much bloodshed and chaos.
Morning came and went. The hunting expedition got up and resumed their journey, following the narrow mountain road southward for a considerable amount of time. Despite catching a glimpse of the occasional kobold or direwolf, the sizable band of warriors went unhindered. The sky grew dark grey and the temperature gradually plummeted as they climbed higher into the mountains.
Gareth and the rest of the Good Companions rode with General Zirdam's entourage. The bard rode beside Arche behind the general, Grolir, and Nimble. The general's personal guards and the imperial soldiers surrounded them, keeping an eye out for any dangers from the woods and the sky, although they did occasionally glance at them, eying them with disdain.
Bored and uncertain about what he's supposed to be doing, Gareth tried making small talk with Arche, but failed. The blonde youth was silent, and purposefully turned away and ignored him whenever he tried to speak directly to her.
Kane scowled, and murmured something vulgar about her.
As the path zigzagged through a narrow pass that took them between high rock walls, General Zirdam turned back at Gareth, Arche, and the other adventurers and workers close to him.
"Keep a sharp eye out," he warned."Grolir says we're getting close. Lots of Frost Giants and Dragons in the area."
Everyone nodded solemnly, and passed the word along down to the others toward the rear of the column.
Through the zigzagged pass, the rocks and sparse trees slowly gave way to a seemingly endless expanse of snow and ice, dotted by boulders and frozen, twisted corpses of trees. The wind whistled and shrieked through the air, chilling them to their bones. As the expedition pressed on through the howling wind and flurry of snowflakes, Nimble of the Four Imperial Knights pulled up beside Zirdam and spoke in a low tone. Gareth leaned in and managed to catch snippets that were carried down wind.
"General, I don't like this," the blond knight said, his voice filled with unease. "We should turn back...could storm soon…"
"Not until we get what we came for…" The general growled.
"Sir, this is madness…"
The conversation continued as such for a short distance before Grolir raised a fist, and the general bellowed a command for everyone to stop. The column immediately obeyed.
The dwarf dismounted his pony and trudged forth from behind the wall of knights. He trudged a short distance ahead through the snow until he came to a stop.
"Oh no…" Kane murmured.
"What is it?" Gareth asked.
The vampire looked at his brother and with all seriousness, said, "We need to go."
"What is it, Grolir?!" The general asked loudly over the wind.
The dwarf knelt and began brushing away the snow, revealing something large. General Zirdam urged his horse forward and motioned for Nimble and the rest of his entourage to follow. As they drew closer, Gareth felt a pit grow in his stomach. He felt as if he knew that something bad was coming but didn't know what.
When they reach Grolir, Zirdam and a few of his men dismounted and helped the ancient looking dwarf brush away snow until they uncovered the savaged remains of a white-blue dragon.
Arche jumped back in surprise while Kane whistled in appreciation.
The dragon was big. It's head was big enough to gulp a rider and his mount in one bite. The scales of the dragon were a dark blue, which contrasted with its pearly white under belly.
The scariest part wasn't the fact that this dragon was killed by something. The wounds were pretty gut wrenching alone: its bat-like wings were tattered ribbons and huge chunks of its scaly body were missing, and the edges of these gaps were charred and blackened. The terrifying part was the fact that when Grolir urged the general to touch the body, Zirdam did so, peeling off his gauntlet and placing his calloused hand onto the dragon's unmoving neck. The old warrior's eye widened as he scrambled backwards.
"It's still warm," he said aloud, which made everyone immediately become alert and uneasy.
"A recent kill," Parpatra of Dragon Hunt murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Possibly a Frost Giant or an enemy dragon."
"Not like this," Grolir rumbled, his voice was like gravel. "This was...something else." He sniffed the air, and scowled. "There was fire...a lot of it. Burnt this dragon something fierce. Frost Dragons are weak to fire."
Gareth noticed Kane looking about, his head stopping on a single point among the blizzard of grey snowflakes. The vampire drew his swords and the bard did the same.
Arche stared at the two, curiosity and suspicion written on her face.
"But what could've killed the dragon like this?" Zirdam wondered aloud. "A mage? Perhaps another party?"
"General," Gareth called to the old warrior. "I think we should-"
Before he could finish, a loud, bone chilling roar sounded, followed by another. Zirdam's guards formed up around the general and Grolir. Nimble drew his sword and down the way, the other adventurers and workers drew their weapons.
From out of the flurry of snow and low hanging, grey clouds came a horde of gigantic, monstrous blue skinned men in shabby furs, wielding clubs and swords made of ice, stone, and metal.
"Frost Giants!" Arche cried out in alarm.
"Now we're talking!" Kane said with a savage grin, twirling one of his black bladed short swords.
Gareth stood in awe of the sight. Ordinarily he would be terrified, but he was strangely calm, and looked at these creatures not as monsters, but as curiosities from another world.
The Frost Giants were what he had pictured: gigantic, blue humanoids that exuded ice-cold brutality. Their clothes were plain, and their demeanor befitted a group of magical beings who lived in one of the harshest extremes in a medieval fantasy world.
The bard shook his head and snapped out of his fascination. There was a battle to be won, and lives were on the line.
Zirdam's guards held their ground and leveled their weapons for the approaching onslaught. However, Arche leveled a staff wrapped in bandages at the charging giants and cried loudly, "[Acid Arrow]!"
A lime-green glowing magical circle appeared at the end of her staff, and a green energy bolt shot forth and struck the lead giant square in the chest. The spell sizzled and ate away at the giant's fur clothing, and began to burn the creature's chest. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to do anything other than to piss it off even more.
Nimble stepped up beside her and aimed his sword at the giants. "[Whirlwind Lance]!" the knight cried, and a cone of spiraling winter air shot from the tip of the blade. The cone spun like a power drill and tore through the wounded Frost Giant's chest.
The giant staggered back, clutching the gaping wound it had just received and fell over. This didn't slow the other giants. Instead, they seemed to be spurred on by the death of their comrade.
Nimble launched another [Whirlwind Lance] while Arche tried to slow the giants with a volley of [Magic Arrows].
As Kane, Gareth and the other adventurers attempted to join the frey, more monstrous roars sounded from behind. They turned and saw more Frost Giants emerging from the snow and clouds, roaring angrily and brandishing their weapons.
"More of them?" Parpatra exclaimed.
"Oh this just gets better and better!" Kane hooted.
Gareth tried to get a handle on what's going on. Arche, Nimble, Grolir, and the rest of Zirdam's escorts were trying to deal with a dozen enraged Frost Giants on one side, while at the same time, this new wave was currently barreling toward the supply wagons and their fellow adventurers.
"Kane!" the bard yelled to his brother. "Go help the others! We can't afford to lose those wagons or the others!"
"On it!" Kane gave a small salute and was gone, leaving whirling snow behind in his wake.
"Lydia, Randor, go protect the general!"
The elf and the dwarf nodded and they rushed off to lend Nimble and Arche a hand.
Very quickly there were screams filling the air. Briefly, Gareth could tell that they were human screams, pained, dying screams. But just as quickly as those screams arose, deep, bartone screams joined the chaos.
Down by the wagons and the column of adventurers and workers, a black shape zipped around among the Frost Giants, slicing and cutting their exposed legs. The giants roared angrily and swiped at the shape with their weapons, hitting only snow.
Gareth cringed at the wounds and deaths that were dealt, but he told himself that it was necessary. Soon the situation turned from an ambush to a slaughter as more Frost Giants fell than humans, mostly thanks to the Good Companions and Nimble. But just as soon as life seemed to have given the people a break, an enormous Frost Giant lumbered into view. This giant was big, even for a Frost Giant. He was twice the size of the ones who were currently attacking them, only he sported a full beard, a cloak made from the hide and pelts of various animals, and had a dragon skull on each shoulder, using them as pauldrons.
"Who in blue blazes is that?" Kane asked aloud, appearing at his brother's side.
"The King of the Frost Giants!?" Grolir cried hoarsely. The ancient dwarf was covered in sweat and dark Frost Giant blood.
"Ah, thank you." Kane grinned.
The King of the Frost Giants scanned the battlefield with cold, analytical eyes. He noted his dead subordinates lying in the snow. A deep, angry scowl formed on the king's face and he let out a deep, powerful roar that made the ground rumble. The great Frost Giant raised aloft a wooden staff the size of a telephone pole, topped by another dragon's skull and moved it in a circle, as if he were trying to stir a cauldron. The eyeless sockets of the dragon's skull glowed bright white, and the clouds swirled around the king's staff.
Snow began to fall in earnest, completely filling the world with white fragments. The wind screamed like a banshee, hurling the falling snow in their faces. Gareth shielded his face. More human screams joined the wind's own, making it difficult to discern how many more of their comrades were falling. Closeby, he heard Randor bellow angrily in dwarvish and he saw a radiant burst of orange flames burn a hole in this raging blizzard. Despite this defiance, the blizzard continued to bombard the beleaguered adventurers, threatening to bury them.
The angelic bard gritted his teeth and unslung his lute. He already had a spell in mind that could blow this so-called king out of the water. But before he could use it, something odd happened.
FWOOM! BOOM!
Whatever spell the King was about to finish conjuring stopped dead in its tracks as something flew at its chest. The unexpected missile exploded on contact, sending the King flying backwards as it roared in pain and surprise.
"HA HA, got you~!" a feminine voice cheered. Everyone turned towards their unexpected savior - with most of them dropping their jaw.
Perched atop a towering slab of rock that overlooked the scene was a pale girl, who was severely underdressed for this weather. Wearing a skimpy, leather top that looked more like a bra, she also wore an almost equally skimpy purple shorts. The only thing that looked even remotely appropriate for this terrain and weather was her boots, which was covered in mud and snow.
What made her stand out even more, however, was her electric-blue hair, which was long and tied into two braids that dangled down to her waist, as well as her red eyes, which almost seemed to glow in the dim atmosphere.
The King of the Frost Giants let out a pained roar, which snapped everyone out of their shock of the surprise attack. Its roar of anger and pain sent shivers down most of their spines, but the new girl just scoffed.
"Seriously, screaming helps...not at all." Her face then turned into an eerie grin as she lifted her weapon.
Gareth's eyes widened as he recognized what it was moments before she squeezed the trigger.
FWOOM! BOOM!
The giant roared as it was hit by another rocket, courtesy of the girl's odd-looking rocket launcher.
"Ptchoo~" the girl breathed as she hopped down from the slab of rock. She skipped towards the giant monster as if she was having a lovely stroll down the park.
As she got closer, the ground rumbled as the King of the Frost Giants pushed himself up off the ground, hatred and rage filling his blue face. He cradled his chest with one hand. Steam and the smell of burnt flesh slipped between his fingers.
"Aw, you're so cute when you're mad!" she giggled, and directed her weapon at the wounded giant. "Any last words?"
Oddly enough, the giant gave the girl a nasty, crooked smile, displaying its yellowed and rotten teeth. The air suddenly became filled with a deep thumping that grew louder and closer in a matter of seconds. The girl paused and turned and saw a gigantic blue-white dragon burst through the murky grey clouds.
Gareth's eyes widened. This dragon was easily twice the size of the dead one they found, with a wingspan that could sweep aside villages and a head that could crush a house.
The dragon bared its claws and swooped down, grabbing the giant by the arms and hoisted him off the ground in one swift move. The giant and the dragon hastily ascended into the sky, carried aloft by the dragon's massive wings, hoping to lose their attackers in the clouds.
The blue haired girl grinned. "Oh no you don't!" she leveled her weapon and took aim, but frowned. "Too far...Time to bring out the big one!"
She pushed a button on her shark-like rocket launcher, before she took aim again.
The blue haired girl squeezed the trigger, and strands of crackling blue-green energy bounced around her deadly weapon, and quickly joined to form a glowing orb of raw magical energy.
"Oh shit" Gareth breathed in recognition. He turned and bellowed, "Everybody down!"
The bard, Kane, and half of the expedition dived for cover in the snow as the girl released the trigger.
"CATCH!"
FWOOM!
An even larger missile suddenly fired from her launcher, and for a second, Gareth thought that this missile had a smiley face painted on it.
The large, red missile flew towards the two creatures, with the King screeching in fear as it grew closer to the dragon.
BOOM!
Somewhere on the other side of the mountains, another team of adventurers were doing their own escort mission. The group was considerably smaller, and were tasked with guarding a less prominent figure. The adventurers were currently following a dirt road heading towards a remote and tiny village named Carne. The employer of the adventurers was a skinny young man in ragged work clothes with a blond bowl cut that covered half of his face.
His name was Nfirea Bareare, grandson of the famous pharmacist, Lizzie Bareare.
Escorting him was a young, skilled and fairly optimistic team of Adventurers known as the Swords of Darkness. Among this group were two peculiar and noticeable new additions: two new copper-ranked adventurers who hoped to keep a low profile and gather information of this strange new land they were in. One was a towering giant of a man clad in obsidian colored armor with a gold trim. He carried two large black swords on his back and kept the visor of his helmet down, masking his features to all. Meanwhile the other was a beautiful raven haired woman who was half his size. She had a cool, steely glare and spoke only when necessary. Though she hoped to keep a low profile like her companion, the raven haired woman quickly earned the attention of a lovesick, tenacious young man who happened to be traveling with them at this very moment.
So far they had come across a band of ogres and goblins, and collected a substantial amount of their ears to trade in as proof of their deeds for gold. After that, it was just bland, uneventful walking and escorting.
As the group skirted the edge of the Azerlisia Mountain range, the large, armored man paused, before he turned his gaze toward the mountains.
"Something wrong?" asked Peter, the leader of the Swords of Darkness, who paused beside the armored giant.
"...I thought I heard something coming from the mountains." the man murmured.
"Oh, that's probably just thunder. Those mountains get all kinds of storms during this time of year," Nfirea explained. "It's nothing to worry about, Sir Momon."
The black knight nodded, although he couldn't help but stare back at the mountains one last time.
I could've sworn that I detected a surge of magical energy for a moment, he thought to himself.
"Does anything live up in those mountains?"
"All kinds of monsters," Ninya supplied, "like Frost Giants and Frost Dragons but other than that..." the young caster shrugged.
The one called Momon hummed, intrigued and cast a cautionary glance back toward the mountains. His prior experience with dragons was costly. If the dragons here were as dangerous as the ones back in Yggdrasil, then he had to keep a wary eye out. There was also that brief surge of energy.
Perhaps Nfirea was right, maybe it was just a summer storm. Momon nodded to himself, though he didn't seem to convince himself as something at the back of his mind bothered him, and will continue to do so for the remainder of the journey.
(a/n: so? what do you think? Been a while but we get a brief appearance by Ainz and Narberal. Don't worry, we'll be seeing more of them in time. I guess I should've marked this a OC centric story in the description. The song lyrics featured here are from The Vampyre of Time and Memory by Queens of the Stone Age. Anyway, until next time.)