(a/n: Hope you enjoy this chapter. Please leave a review and all that. Big thanks to Lucius Walker for his help.)
Ch.9: Upward Over the Mountain
The sky gradually became a dark, endless field of grey as Gareth, Kane, and the rest of General Zirdam's dragon hunting expedition trudged behind Jinx. The blue haired, scantily dressed woman led them to what they hoped was safety. The trail snaked upwards through a narrow rocky pass. The blue haired young woman skipped onward, unfazed by the frigid temperature, by the deep snow surrounding them, or by the potential dangers that could be lurking atop the high rock walls that surrounded them.
General Zirdam and the rest of the expedition kept their eyes peeled for any further possible ambushes or unfriendly eyes lurking in the shadows of rocks, and in nearly unnoticeable crevices in the cliffs rising around them.
Occasionally, Jinx stopped to shout back words of encouragement to the weary expedition, though Gareth could sense that she was making light of their state and situation. The blond bard turned in his saddle glanced at the ragged adventurers and workers. In the fading light, the weary remnants of the expedition hiked up the trail behind him at a sluggish pace. Cold but alert, the adventurers and workers kept their weapons in hand and did what they could to keep warm.
Though their numbers were still relatively high, with only a few deaths and some serious injuries, the enthusiastic and optimistic atmosphere seemed to have been sucked dry in the course of a single day. It was probably for the best though, Gareth concluded. They were in a dangerous mountain range filled with all sorts of monsters that could rip an experienced Adventurer to pieces if he was careless. Had it not for Jinx and Kane, the fatalities and injuries could've been far worse and more numerous.
The few remaining supply wagons trundled closely behind, with mages and adventures clearing a path through the snow with magic and shovels, allowing easier passage, though the rocky terrain and gradual incline made it increasingly more arduous and difficult.
In the silent grey twilight, Gareth could hear moans and whimpering coming from the wounded that were loaded into the back of one of the wagons they had emptied earlier to help carry their injured.
The bard sighed deeply, and silently promised to help alleviate the injuries of the suffering adventurers.
It had been only a few hours since the Frost Giant attack, and the expedition was still reeling. The bard thought back to what had occurred.
(A Few Hours Ago)
Once the blinding, thunderous explosion had stopped, Gareth and Kane picked themselves up and watched as the smoke and wintry clouds faded, revealing nothing but the cold, grey skies. The King of the Frost Giants and his enormous dragon pet were gone.
A length of silence passed by, which was interrupted by raucous, joyous laughter. The blue haired woman pumped her fist and did a little victory dance. "Bullseye!" she chortled.
The adventurers and workers raised their heads from the snowy ground and stared in amazement and shock at their scantily clad savior. Judging from their expressions and from the suspicious and frightened chatter that arose in the new silence, Gareth concluded that none of them had seen a rocket launcher before. A bit shocking, to say the least, for a bunch of people from a world that was rather medieval. This was going to take some explaining and some serious adjustments. This trip just keeps getting better and better.
Slowly, the expedition snapped out of their daze, and picked themselves up from the snow. The Frost Giants that they were battling were gone, having fled when they saw their fearless leader and his pet go up in a gigantic fireball. The few who didn't heed the bard's warning about taking cover were still rattled by the force and brilliance of the explosion. A dozen or so individuals remained lying on their backs, eyes and jaws wide open with shock. Their comrades helped them to their wobbly feet and brought them out of their daze.
General Zirdam, Grolir, Sir Nimble, and the rest general's entourage got to work gathering what they could from the dead Frost Giants, and took a head count to see how many were still alive and present.
The blonde girl Arche stood a short distance away from Gareth, staring in wonder at the gigantic bodies littering the snow, now stained with scattered pools of dark blood and gore.
As the expedition slowly regrouped and collected itself, Gareth's attention focused on the blue haired maniac. The expedition's savior was a short distance away, chattering incessantly to herself about how she scored a winning shot, and how the force of the explosion nearly knocked her socks off. In the corner of his eye, a familiar dark shape appeared.
"Dude, you're seeing this, right?" Kane asked his brother in a whisper.
"Yeah," the bard replied, glancing at his brother. "I'm seeing what you're seeing."
"But how is she here?"
Gareth shrugged. "I don't know."
"Does this mean that there could be others? From Yggdrasil, I mean. D-do you think that Wilhelm or maybe Alice might be here as well? Maybe some NPCs and items? Aw shit, you don't think that damn 'world devouring' snake thing is here, do you?"
"I don't know!" Gareth snapped. He took a moment to calm himself down, before he spoke softly. "I don't know. There's a lot that we don't know for sure, but now's not the time. First things first, we get off this mountain, and then we can figure this out."
"Figure what out?" asked a cheerful voice.
Gareth spun around, and saw the blue haired woman's face inches away from his own. The bard stumbled backward and instinctively leveled his weapon. The woman giggled.
Randor and Lydia rushed to the bard's side, weapons drawn and ready for a fight, but the blue haired woman raised her hands in surrender.
"Relax~" she laughed, and flashed the dwarf and the elf a wide grin, revealing a set of pearly white teeth. Gareth noted how her canines were slightly longer and sharper than a regular human's. "I'm friendly. I won't bite...much."
"Hey, that's my line!" Kane said in an exaggerated whiny tone.
"Jinx?" Gareth said, which caught the scantily dressed woman's attention.
"That's my name, don't wear it out" she chirped and gave the bard a salute.
"How...why are you here?"
Jinx tapped her chin thoughtfully as a ponderous look crossed her pale grey features. "Hmm, that's the question, isn't it? Why are we all here?"
Gareth exhaled. "I mean here, on this mountain, in this world?"
The blue haired woman shrugged. "I dunno. All I know is that boss man sent me out on patrol to take care of any frosty hobos who might pose a threat, and return to base with anything interesting or valuable."
"Boss man?" Gareth frowned. Realization appeared on his face. "Wait, you mean Damien's here too? How many more of you are there, and what do you mean, base?"
"Uh huh," Jinx confirmed, folding her arms. "The boss-man himself and Daedalus's Forge are here. It's just us, D-man, myself, my dorky, hot sisters, and all of the boss man's tinker toys."
"It seems that we might not be the only losers to have logged into Yggdrasil in its final moments," Kane whispered to his brother.
Gareth nodded, and felt a smile form on his lips. Another old face from Yggdrasil. What are the odds of that happening?
As soon as the smile formed, however, it began to falter.
If they weren't the only ones to have shown up during Yggdrasil's final moments, how many others were also stuck in this new world? Were they frightened and alone, or were they with friends and family members? According to the bard's knowledge, it's been roughly a week and a half since he and Kane ended up here. The bard hoped that those other people, whoever and wherever they were, were alright, and had not died or had been imprisoned, or gone all Colonel Kurtz on everyone, and were now collecting severed heads.
The bard's thoughts were interrupted by a sharp jab from Kane. Gareth looked at him, and then he saw General Zirdam and his men approaching.
"General!" Gareth greeted the grizzled old man with a smile. "How are things looking?"
"Well, we're not looking too bad," General Zirdam grunted. "At least a dozen injuries, several dead, and two missing. We lost two of the wagons and some of the horses ran off. But overall, not the worst thing that's happened under my watch."
The general and his men came to a halt before the Good Companions and Jinx. The grey haired old warrior studied Jinx with a mix of fascination and uncertainty, particularly the rocket launcher strapped to her back.
After a moment, the general dipped his head to Jinx.
"Thank you for the rescue," Zirdam said sincerely. "We might've been dragon feed if you didn't show up, Ms…?"
"Jinx!" the blue haired woman in question replied cheerfully
Nimble frowned. "Jinx what?"
"Just Jinx."
"What manner of weapon is that?" Grolir asked, nodding to the missile launcher on her back.
"Oh, this little guy?" Jinx unslung her weapon, and hoisted it over her left shoulder. She began to move its metal jaw up and down, mimicking the act of talking. "Hey guys, my name's Fishbones, Jinx's favorite weapon. I blow stuff up by shooting rockets outta ma mouth, even though I don't want her too."
"...You do know that I can replace you, right?" Jinx huffed, before she shrugged. "Anyways, like my friend here just said, he blows shit up, whether he wants to or not. Ha!"
"...Er, right." Grolir said, suddenly beginning to question the woman's sanity. "Did you make this fine...weapon, by any chance?"
"Sure did!" She said cheerfully, before she frowned. "...Well, okay, my boss designed the basic outline of it, but I'm the one that completed it! ...And gave it more life. At least, that's what my backstory says."
An awkward silence fell upon the general and his companions. Kane facepalmed, and Gareth decided to step in before things got even weirder.
"Anyway, Miss Jinx here has graciously invited us to join her boss, who is willing to lend us safe shelter until we can recover our wounds. Right?"
"I have?" Jinx blinked.
Gareth gave her a look, to which she stared at him blankly, until she snapped her fingers.
"Oh, righhht. Yep, uh huh, that's exactly what I did. Ha ha!"
For the love of god, Gareth groaned in his head.
Fortunately, at the mention of possible safe haven and aid, Zirdam, Grolir, and the others grew more attentive and responsive.
"Is your...boss close?" Zirdam asked.
"Uh, yeah. Pretty close."
"Good enough," the general nodded, turning his back to the blue haired woman and the bard. "We need to find shelter before dark. If you think that ambush was bad, spending a night out in these mountains is even worse."
"That sounds cool! Can we camp out? Ooh, maybe we can cook some s'mores!" Jinx chattered, and Gareth quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.
Zirdam gave the blue haired woman one last look, before he marched off to give out orders to gather any salvageable items from the smashed remains of the ruined supply wagons and the fallen Frost Giants.
Grolir and Nimble remained for a few moments before following the general, the two were visibly unsure of what to make of Jinx, and the violet armored knights followed suit. Gareth noticed Arche staring at the two of them, and trudged off toward the gathering adventurers and workers.
When they were gone and at a safe distance, Gareth removed his hand from Jinx's mouth, and wiped off her saliva, courtesy of her licking his palm.
"Jinx, just how far is Damien and his base?" the bard asked.
"Not far," she shrugged. "Don't worry blondie, we'll be with boss-man in no time. We just gotta go up and up, and I'll leave you and your sausage party be."
Kane let out a snicker, which he poorly hid behind his hand.
After a long half hour of gathering their supplies and burying their dead in makeshift graves, the expedition was on the move once more, this time led by a blue haired lunatic named Jinx.
(Back to the Present)
"Come on, shoot faster! Just a little bit of energy, yeah!
I wanna try something fun right now. I guess some people are gonna die right now!
Let's blow this city to ashes, and see what Pow-Pow thinks!"
Most of the adventurers were keeping a good distance away from the mad woman, who was currently singing a rather demented song about what they assumed was her favorite hobby. Nimble in particular was glaring at the back of her head, his hand always close to his weapon in case she suddenly turned on them.
Zirdam and Grolir were stone faced and silent as they trotted a short distance behind the singing lunatic. Gareth silently hoped that Jinx would stop singing. If there weren't any Frost Giants or any other monster close by, there's bound to be now, drawn by her loud, energetic singing which echoed through off the cliffs around them, cutting the grim silence of earlier to ribbons.
Jinx suddenly stopped midsong and mid step. Nimble raised a fist and the general and the rest of the expedition froze, wondering what was going on.
"..."
"..."
"No way for me, a lady stuck in waiting,
I'd rather battle fire-breathing dragons.
I knew I could prove that a girl could be a Knight,
Though my friends all laughed at me,
But…
I wouldn't be discouraged and trained in secret.
Then a dragon pinched the Royal Prince
And everyone was freaking.
So I went alone to the dragon's home,
To slay the dragon~"
Gareth had to stop a massive facepalm as Jinx suddenly began to sing another song, which he found rather ironic and insensitive, given the situation. The blue haired lunatic continued to skip onward, belting out bar after bar of whatever song came to mind, and Nimble motioned the expedition forward. The knights, adventurers, and workers proceeded slowly, keeping a bit of distance between them and Jinx, in case her singing attracted any monsters.
As the bard began pondering what lay at the end of the trail Jinx was leading them, he noticed a golden haired shape appear in the corner of his vision.
"Miss Arche," Gareth greeted without looking at the young blond worker. "What can I do for you?"
"First of all, don't call me 'Miss,'" the young worker told him, sounding almost offended. "Second, I wanted to ask you how you know that strange woman."
He turned his head towards Arche. This was probably the closest he's gotten to the young Worker, and looking at her, the bard's mind sort of wandered.
The girl looked to be in her teens, though Gareth wasn't sure what age she was specifically. For a Worker, she looked cleaner and healthier than some of the others within the expedition. She wore loose maroon robes over a light red tunic and skirt. She held the reins to her horse in one gloved hand and her magic staff in the other. The young mage gave the bard a steely look with her icy blue eyes, which seem to possess a sense of maturity and knowledge that exceeded her age.
The bard couldn't help but wonder what occurred in her life to make her want to be a Worker. Being an Adventurer was rough, but from what he's heard, being a Worker was just as difficult, if not more so at times.
"Well?" Arche asked.
"Right, sorry" Gareth chuckled nervously. "Well, it's a long story, but suffice to say that my brother and I have encountered Jinx and her boss before."
The young worker cocked an eyebrow. "Really? What was she like?"
Gareth considered his words carefully, and replied, "More or less the same as she is now."
"Do you think she's going to kill us?"
"No, not unless she's provoked, and believe me, you don't want to provoke this one."
Arche smiled grimly. "I have no intention of doing so."
Not wanting to waste the opportunity to placate his boredom and speak to the otherwise cold and aloof young mage, Gareth fired a question her way.
"What brings you all the way out to the Azerlisia Mountains?"
"Money," Arche answered plainly.
"No way, me too!" Gareth said ecstatically, which caused the young mage to scowl at him. "Well, that, and I wanted to help some friends of mine." That caused the young mage to blink.
After a brief pause, Arche asked, "Who are your friends?"
"The White Clovers," the bard answered, jabbing a thumb back over his shoulder.
The young mage glanced back and nodded slowly. "They're a good party. I heard good things about them."
"Indeed they are. We would've declined the job, but, needing money and worrying about the wellbeing of our friends, my brother and I decided to tag along."
"You were?"
"Yep. I mean, I know that we're Platinum ranked, but we're still rather new to the whole Adventurer business. I felt that we needed time, but I couldn't bear the thought of leaving our friends to possibly die on some cold unforgiving mountain full of dragons and other monsters."
Arche gave the bard a funny look. "How...sentimental."
Gareth smiled. "What can I say, I'm a sentimental guy."
"Well, I hate to tell you this, but you've picked the wrong line of employment. Adventurers and Workers can't afford to be sentimental or let emotions dictate their actions. It could get you killed."
The bard shrugged. "If I die, I die. So long as I did my best and left the world a better place, I'll be happy."
Again, the young mage gave Gareth a funny look. "You are the strangest bard that I've met. At first the members of my party, myself included, thought you were just some rich boy who paid for that platinum rank or some lowly minstrel who just got lucky. But now..."
Gareth remembered the looks that Arche and her friends were giving him and Kane the previous night and the little wager they had going with the general. "Have you met many bards?"
"No," she admitted, "but I have heard that a majority of them aren't really good for any serious Adventurer jobs, save for maybe Freivalds of Silver Thread Bird. "
"Rumors are hardly credible sources of information," Gareth told her. "Besides, while those bards are questionable, I am the real deal."
Arche raised an eyebrow at him.
Gareth wagged a finger at her. "Never judge a book by its cover"
"Huh?"
"It's a saying from my country, which essentially means 'looks can be deceiving.' Underneath this stunningly handsome facade that was hand sculpted by the angels, lies a force to be reckoned with, a force that will cause the giants and dragons of these mountains to quake in fear!"
A smile tugged at the young mage's lips and her body began to tremble with suppressed laughter. It wasn't Gareth's intention, his words were sincere, but he simply smiled and let her have her fun. From how serious and grim she was, the bard sensed that deep down, Arche could use a good laugh once in a while.
That brief moment of cheer and laughter vanished as Jinx began belting out a new song, loudly and offkey.
"...You sure we can trust her?" Arche asked Gareth nervously, wincing at how loud the woman was singing. "I mean, I'm not a physician, but I'm pretty sure she's insane."
"That insane lady has ears, you know!" Jinx suddenly shouted, turning her head towards the magic caster, their eyes meeting, making her jump in surprise, "And yeah, I'm crazy - got a doctor's note."
She let out another giggle, before she continued leading them.
"Oh, and by the way, trust me or not...I really don't give a shit. This is just an order from the boss to take in any asshole that finds themself on this cold-ass mountain. Brr, I can use some hot chocolate right now!"
After that, everyone made sure to avoid talking about the blue-haired maniac any more, fearing a confrontation like that to happen. Thankfully, everyone seemed to get this unspoken rule, since nothing else happened, and Jinx eventually grew tired of singing.
As night drew closer and as the air grew colder, Gareth reflected on the one who they were on their way to meet, and, hopefully, gain shelter from.
Damien was a close friend of Gareth. The two of them met long ago, following an arduous and intense dungeon raid in Niflheim that the Emerald Legion had undertaken. Damien was in the area, gathering materials for a special item when he bumped into the exhausted but victorious guild. The two struck up a conversation and became fast friends. One of the things that endeared the bard to Damien was how he played Yggdrasil.
While the game was chock full of kill happy players, item hunters and extremely competitive dungeon raiders, Damien was one of the few who took a more constructive approach to Yggdrasil. He was a researcher of no small reputation, belonging to a guild devoted to ingenuity and innovation, known to all as the Artificer's Guild.
The Artificer's Guild was filled with talented creative types who had no desire for soul crushingly difficult dungeons or being frequently targeted by aggressive PKers. It was one of the few guilds in the game that welcomed all within their ranks. It was also one of the few guilds that was devoted to something other than dungeon raids and battle, like the guild World Searcher, who devoted themselves to exploring the vast, uncharted territories of the game, discovering every secret the game hid within its vast programming, and made the unknown known to all players for free.
Damien and his group started off as a small group of tinkerers, craftsmen, and blacksmiths, operating out of a small shop in Valhalla, one of the few areas in Yggdrasil where players of all stripes could interact on neutral grounds. Within the span of a few years, their numbers swelled, and they moved into a heavily fortified base in Muspelheim, from which they experimented and crafted all sorts of items. These items would be sold or bartered for gold or for materials of equal value. It was a fairly lucrative business, and there were some who tried to raid their base, but those typically ended in disaster. Not a smart idea, trying to rob or invade the mountain fortress of a bunch of magical eggheads who invented all sorts of dangerous items and traps. It's an especially unwise idea to try robbing a guild that was said to have dabbled in modding, and, allegedly, had one of Yggdrasil's programmers in their roster.
Gareth and various members of the Emerald Legion were beneficiaries of the Artificers creations, which was how he and Damien met for the second time. The two had a lengthy discussion on weapons and possible items that could be crafted from certain materials. One thing led to another and the two ended up working together on crafting a very potent suit of armor for one of Damien's friends, which he used in the tournament on Midgard. He didn't win, but it certainly helped him last longer than his opponent.
The bard remembered seeing Jinx lurking about in the cavernous guild halls. She'd spout off some randomly generated voice clips and lines, and do some crazy stuff after the manner of the classic video game character she was based on, but not much else. Gareth did see her in action once during an ambush on the guild, and he wasn't lying to Arche when he warned her not to antagonize her. Jinx was fast, and packed some heavy firepower.
Although the two players were close friends, the two gradually drifted apart. They grew busy with their respective guilds, and with the bard's falling out with his former comrades, the two lost touch.
Until now.
Jinx and the expedition emerged from the pass and found themselves in a box canyon. The way ahead and all around them were nothing but solid walls of rock and ice. A frozen stream of silvery ice scared the towering grey cliff before them. In the growing darkness, the rock face looked eerily like a face.
Jinx stopped and twirled about to face the general and the expedition.
"Here we are!" the blue haired lunatic announced.
"Here where?" Nimble asked, his voice heavy with suspicion and unease.
CHINK! CHINK! CHINK!
Almost as if on cue, large beams of light shined onto the group, blinding those unfortunate enough to have stared in the direction of the piercing, bright lights. Gareth blinked the spots out of his eyes as he tried to figure out what was going on.
["HALT!"] A loud voice boomed from the direction of the lights. ["WHO GOES THERE?!"]
"It's them, boss-man!" Jinx cheerfully waved. "It's those poor saps that I was talking about!"
Through the blinding light, shapes moved and sounds echoed until the expedition was ringed by humanoid silhouettes, leveling something at them.
Gasps erupted from their group as they realized that they were surrounded.
"What in the name of the gods are those things?" some of the workers gasped. "Golems?"
Gareth and Kane looked around them. Gareth shielded his eyes with one hand and focused on one of the silhouettes. He immediately recognized the beings that surrounded them. Clockwork men - or more appropriately, Clockwork Sentinels, - had surrounded their large group. Made of metal and porcelain armor, they were just as he remembered them - tall, imposing, and creepy as hell. While these models of the clockwork men had been upgraded since he had last seen them, he saw that they still had the large glass lense that served as their singular eye, with their creepy, never changing smile made of porcelain lying just below the mechanical camera.
All of them had four arms, with some of them having almost just blades for arms. The others had hands, which either carried blades, or they carried guns.
Yes, guns. As it would turn out, the Artificer's Guild was the reason why Yggdrasil eventually allowed firearms into their game, despite it basically breaking the whole fantasy genre vibe the game initially prided itself into having. After a month of trials and errors, they eventually "created" gunpowder and other magic based variants, which quickly escalated into the first firearm.
The developers of Yggdrasil made a big deal out of this, since again, this pretty much disrupted the whole fantasy theme Yggdrasil was all about. However, the players were pretty interested in the idea of firearms potentially becoming a part of the game, so they reluctantly let it slide. In a matter of weeks, the developers changed their tune, praising player ingenuity and attributing the weapon's inclusion into the game to Yggdrasil's customizability and versatility.
Firearms quickly became a hotly sought after item. However, developing firearms in a fantasy-themed video game turned out to be much more difficult than expected, so people eventually lost interest in it. As quickly as it gained popularity, guns lost it. Before long, only the most dedicated players even bothered to try and craft such weapons.
"What is this?!" General Zirdam demanded Jinx, a dangerous scowl on his face.
"Treachery!" Nimble cried, drawing his blade. "We must retreat!"
BANG!
Before the Imperial Knight could react, a bullet zipped past his cheek, grazing him and crashing into the snow, causing the snow to hiss and produce a thin strand of steam. Nimble froze, and touched his cheek where the bullet had left a noticeable bleeding cut.
["THAT WAS A WARNING!"] the voice warned, sounding like thunder. ["NEXT ONE WILL BE FATAL! IDENTIFY YOURSELVES, NOW!"]
Beside Gareth, Arche grew very pale and was trying in vain to think of a way to escape, but nothing came. They were trapped.
"I am General Zirdam Ginostus, High Commander of the armies of the Baharuth Empire," the general declared solemnly and without a trace of fear. "We've come seeking shelter from the cold and monsters that dwell in these mountains. Your...subordinate promised that you could help us."
There was a pause.
["I DON'T RECALL MAKING SUCH A PROMISE."] the voice boomed. ["FOR ALL I KNOW, YOU COULD BE SPIES OR ASSASSINS THAT HAVE BEEN SENT TO KILL ME!']
"Oh yeah, come to think of it, I actually don't remember promising them safety." Jinx scratched her head sheepishly.
Nimble gritted his teeth and looked ready to explode, but the Imperial Knight could do nothing but wait and hope for an opening.
"Oh come on!" Kane complained loudly "Who would ever want to kill you, you friggin' mega nerd!"
A stillness fell on everyone at that moment as the blinding lights shifted slightly and landed on the vampire. Those closest to him scattered and gave him room, hoping to not get struck down by the voice and his strange weapon.
["...WHAT DID YOU SAY!?"] the voice demanded, sounding both surprised and a little offended.
"I said who would ever want to kill you?" Kane repeated. "I mean, I can provide a list of people who'd want to off Gareth and myself, but you? Unless Honeybee is here as well, there just isn't anybody else in this godforsaken world who would want to kill you. You're just a shut-in NEET with a fixation for tinker toys and tomboys. Come on, D. Drop the act and let us in before I rip a hole in something!"
There was silence for a long moment. Arche gripped her staff tightly and the rest of the Adventurers and Workers stood at the ready in case a battle started. Finally, the voice spoke.
["HOLD ON A SECOND."]
More silence followed as the besieged expedition waited, sweating from the intense heat of the lights and the growing tension. The soft crunch of snow could be heard growing louder as two shapes appeared before them.
One was a tall, pale woman with long blue-black hair, clad in a black and purple dress, which generously displayed her curves and smooth skin. Atop her head was a dark purple top hat. Cradled in her arms was a bronze steampunk looking sniper rifle. The woman studied the ragged Adventurers and Workers that stood before her like a wolf and her prey.
The second was a raven haired man wearing a heavy fur cloak, leather gloves, and dark goggles with a dozen or so different lenses attached to it with tiny strands of brass, making him look like a steampunk explorer or scientist. The two paused a short distance away from Zirdam's expedition.
Nimble and the rest of Zirdam's entourage kept close to the general, but neither the unknown man or woman were interested in them. The attention was focused on Kane, who stepped forward from among the freezing crowd. Gareth hopped off his horse and followed his brother.
The two brothers approached the strangers, stopping when they were only a few feet from them.
Gareth and Kane stood side by side before the raven haired man and his companion. Kane looked annoyed while Gareth was rather nervous. He wasn't certain how things were going to play out. He tried his other senses to get an idea of what this guy was feeling or thinking but it was all murky and hard to read. The bard kept his hand at his side and hoped he was quick on the draw should things go sideways.
After a tense, silent moment, the raven haired man lifted his goggles to his brow and stared at the brothers with wide, curious green orbs.
"Gareth?" the man breathed. He looked at Kane. "Kane? H-how...how are you guys here?"
"You tell us." the vampire grunted.
"Is...is this a trick?" Panic entered the man's voice. "Are you reading my mind? Are you shapeshifters using my memories against me?"
"It's us, dipstick. The real deal."
"How do I know that you are what you say you are?"
"You don't," Kane admitted. "We could be imposters and you could probably kill us. But then again, we might be real. We could try and convince you but, in the end, I don't think there's really anything we could say that would possibly convince you."
The raven haired man frowned. "Good point."
"We're real, Damien," the bard spoke up. "Look, all that we know is this: We logged into Yggdrasil on the night of the shut down to say goodbye to the old game and then...here we are."
Damien stared at the bard, his face not betraying anything.
"That was a week and a half ago," Gareth continued "Ever since then, we've been hiding out at the Bronze Ox, you remember it? The little inn Kane and I won on that quest? Anyway, we decided to go exploring and gathered some information on this new world. As you can see, we've been having some success so far."
The raven haired Artificer nodded slowly, seemingly accepting the bard's words. After a length of silence, Damien raised a hand and made a gesture.
A loud click sounded and the lights went out, plunging the canyon in darkness. The Adventurers and Workers behind them chattered nervously but remained still, still seeing spots from the sudden and blinding they received from the lights.
Gareth's eyes recovered instantly and he saw a trio of enormous bronze searchlights positioned above them on the cliff, partially hidden by a snowbank.
"We better get inside," Damien said, adjusting the goggles on his forehead. "Direwolves are very active at this time of night."
The bard nodded and gestured to the general, indicating that everything was good now.
Damien snapped his fingers and a dark seam appeared in the cliff behind him, causing clumps of ice and snow to fall. The seam split open, swinging outward like a door, revealing a wide, round opening. A cloud of steam and a gust of warm air rolled forth from the dark interior, washing over the freezing travelers and the three players.
"Caitlyn, show them inside please" Damien said to the rifle wielding woman beside him.
The woman in purple and black nodded and sauntered toward the newly revealed entrance. After some convincing, Kane led the cold and tired force after the sniper.
"Aw," Jinx pouted as the Adventurers and Workers trudged by. "But I wanted to blow their brains out!"
"Ooh, kinky," Kane quipped as he passed her by.
Jinx scowled. "Hey, that's my line!"
Gareth exhaled and followed Damien and the others inside.
Daedalus's Forge was just as Gareth remembered it. The spacious, vaulted entrance hall was as it was all those years ago. Thick stone pillars lined the hall, leading toward an immense set of doors of wood and metal. On either side of the bard were doors that lead to different areas within the Forge: blacksmith shops, alchemy labs, training grounds, and dungeons.
The Adventurers and Workers murmured in awe at the size of the chamber, some theorizing that they were in a dwarven outpost of sorts. Gareth noticed Grolir's awe and puzzlement as he inspected the bare pillars and walls, as if he were trying to ascertain who or what may have shaped this hall.
A deep rumble echoed through the hall as the immense stone gates closed behind Damien, Jinx, and Caitlyn. The raven haired Artificer shed his fur cloak and handed it off to a nearby Clockwork Sentinel, which scuttled off and vanished through a nearby hole in the wall.
Without warning, the walls began to open up, countless hexagonal holes appearing out of nowhere. Out poured out more Clockwork Sentinels like a swarm of mechanical bees, all holding either weapons, boxes, or other supplies.
"They shall take you to the infirmary or to the dining hall, depending on whatever you need." Damien explained. "Please make yourselves at home. Fair warning: Steal anything, and we'll know. We have eyes everywhere. If you need anything, just ask one of the Sentinels, and help will be on the way."
Some of the seedier looking Workers gulped at this, looking at the mechanical men, who looked at them with suspicion with their singular, unblinking eyes. Despite the eerie grin that was frozen onto their porcelain faces, they seemed to be glaring at them, daring them to violate the sanctity of their creator's home.
"You two, come with." Damien beckoned at Gareth and Kane. "We have...much to discuss."
"Do you need us to escort you, sir?" An armored woman walked up to the group, another one of the Artificer's Guild's guardian NPCs.
Both of the brothers recognized that this woman was the NPC named Vi. The pink haired woman was the muscle of the guild hall's security. The most notable thing about this woman was not the fact that she was the only one that wore armor that almost covered her entire body, nor was it the fact that it looked like she wore a tutu under all that armor.
No, it was her large, metal gauntlets, the eight knuckles glowing hot red. Its hands were large enough to envelope and crush a human head, it was wider than her body, and looked heavy to lift individually with both arms, and yet, this lady wore it on her like it was an ordinary pair of gloves.
"No, it'll be alright, Vi. These are...old colleagues, if I must say so. Surely you must remember them, yes?"
The woman nodded, examining the two brothers' faces.
"I do," Vi said, bowing slightly, "Welcome back to Daedalus's Forge, sirs."
Gareth tipped his feathered cap and Kane gave a nod.
"This way," Damien said, gesturing toward a door at the distant corner of the entrance hall.
As they made their way toward the door, General Zirdam, Nimble, Grolir, Randor, and Lydia moved to follow, but the Sentinels blocked their paths. Their glassy eyes glinting as they brandished their bladed weapons.
Nimble attempted to draw his sword, but felt something hard and heavy land on his shoulder. Turning around, his eyes widened as he realized that it was the woman Vi. Her mighty gauntlet was resting on his shoulder, and he knew that if she so wished, a single pinch from that gauntlet would be all it took to crush it beyond repair, even with his armor.
"Gareth!" The general growled.
"Get out of my way you blasted contraptions!" Randor snarled as he brandished his axe. "Or I shall reduce you to scrap!"
The bard blinked and suddenly felt like an idiot. If he was trying to keep a low profile, this was no way to do it. After all, this whole exchange looked incredibly suspicious, with Damien seemingly turning from a stranger to an old colleague being odd without context. There was also the matter of his companions. Although they claimed to be unbothered by the fatigue and cold, he had to make sure that they were rested, and prepared for what tomorrow may bring. He also needed to nip any uncomfortable questions in the bud before they evolve into a serious problem.
"General, Randor, Lydia, everyone, please go with them," Gareth told the general calmly, using his bardic voice. "Eat, rest, and regain your strength. I assure you that everything will be alright. We will return soon. When everyone is rested, you will join in on the conversation. You have my word."
The general scowled at the bard for an uncomfortable length. Gradually, the old man's craggy features softened and he nodded, acquiescing. Randor lowered his axe and sniffed. Lydia frowned, but nodded. Satisfied, Zirdam, Nimble and the rest fell in with the rest of the ragged expedition as they were herded out of the entrance hall by Vi and her group of Sentinels.
"Shall we?" Damien asked patiently.
"Lets," Kane nodded.
The three players left the entrance hall, escorted by a trio of Sentinels.
The three players walked in awkward silence. They passed by more mechanical guards patrolling the corridors and a series of identical doors leading deeper into the guild base. Gareth expected Damien to open one of them, but they just passed by them all.
After what seemed like forever, he finally stopped at a large, ornate door that read, "Atelier 12 - Damien Walker."
The three Sentinels took up positions within the hall, with their backs toward the players and the door, as if they were expecting a threat to come racing after them down the corridor.
Damien turned his head back to smirk at them.
"You know, you guys should feel blessed. You guys are going to be the first ones that's not a part of this guild to witness this."
Before the two could ask what 'this' was, the genius inventor took out a ring of keys. There were many golden and silver keys in the ring, but he plucked out one of the dozen, before unlocking the door. Stepping inside, it revealed what looked to be a small museum, filled with beautiful pottery, paintings, sculptures, and other types of work that were neatly presented.
"Amazing," Gareth breathed. He noticed how some of the artworks were pieces of the mechanical men. Lifeless, and yet perfectly made, it felt like if he could learn how to put the glassed pieces together, maybe he would be able to make his own Clockwork Sentinel.
"Thank you," Damien smiled. "But that's not the best part."
He then walked up to a painting of a bowl full of peach seeds. Digging his fingers behind the painting and its frame, it swung open like a door, revealing a set of switches. His fingers traveled over one of them, and pulled it down.
Suddenly, the room began to shake a little. Before the two could ask what was going on, the room began to disassemble. Walls, floors, art works, they all began to move away, and they realized that it was all attached to machinery.
As bits of the floor began to move away, he realized that there were certain sections of the floor that remained unchanged, to which he quickly moved towards those particular spots. Watching the machines behind the walls change the area around him, he was vaguely reminded of a certain classic horror movie series, noting how the entire room seemed to transform by itself like the film's iconic puzzle box, the Lament Configuration.
These thoughts were interrupted when the floor began to descend, hydraulics humming as they went down into darkness. Looking above him, he realized that a floor had just replaced the one above them, and he realized that this complex machinery had just replaced the room that it took them away from.
The floor finally stopped descending, and the lights turned on. He blinked, and he realized that he must be looking at Damien's work room - or rather, his atelier.
"Welcome to my atelier," Damien smiled, even as the room continued to assemble itself. "It's where miracles are made."
In contrast to the museum that they had just witnessed, this room was much simpler, cozier even. A work table was placed near the center of the room, with an elaborate throne-like chair sitting behind it. The walls were decorated with only a few paintings, and occasionally miscellaneous items like weapons and a mirror.
Strewn about the work table were old books and rough sketches of various items and contraptions that were planned to be made at some undisclosed time. Behind the throne-like chair and work table were a couple of tall, fully stocked bookshelves, bearing tomes of various sizes, ages and makes.
Off to one side was a wide fireplace, in which crackled a warm golden flame, though the room's primary source of illumination were a dozen or so crystal globes that glowed brightly. Over the fireplace sat an ornate clock, which ticked away softly and rhythmically.
Kane whistled appreciatively. "Nice man cave" the vampire complimented.
"Thanks," Damien said bashfully. "It's my home away from home… literally, now that I think about it." He shook his head and gestured to some cushioned stools closeby. "Pull up a seat and let's talk."
Gareth and Kane each pulled up a stool toward the central work table as Damien plopped into the throne-like chair. Once everyone was seated and comfortable, the three spoke freely and openly.
An unknown amount of time drifted by as the three shared tales of what they've been up to in the last few years. Last time Damien and Gareth had spoken, Damien was still guildmaster and was overseeing some major commissioned projects for some clients that were locked in the midst of a big guild war. The bard also remembered that the chief Artificer of the guild was also starting a new engineering job IRL. Fortunately, it seemed that Damien had some successes at his job IRL, and that the Artificer's Guild had continued to rake in the gold, and even endured another raid attempt.
What had happened to everyone else on Yggdrasil happened to Damien's guild. People gradually moved on from the guild and from the game as well. Some of the senior members and the old faithful continued to show up, but even they eventually stopped coming, due to personal reasons or because they had already said their goodbyes. The numbers dwindled until eventually, Damien was all that remained. The chief Artificer nearly gave up on Yggdrasil for good weeks before the shutdown. Life was going good for him, and there was a new game that tickled his fancy. However, due to how much love and effort he poured into the old game, Damien decided to pay Yggdrasil one last visit before it was gone forever.
The raven-haired artificer visited various spots in the old guild base, cleaning up and making some last minute adjustments before the end came. For some reason, Damien wanted his old virtual home to meet its end looking its best. The end finally came...but not really. Damien was just as freaked out by the change as Gareth and Kane, though curiosity and wonder quickly overtook that fear and discomfort. He began tinkering with his now real automatons, and playing around with his now real weaponry. Eventually, he got bored and decided to go exploring.
"And that was when I ran into the locals," Damien explained, drumming his fingers on his chair's armrest. "The Frost Giants."
"Oh, and how did that go?" Kane asked, leaning forward with anticipation.
Damien winced. "About as well as your encounter with them."
"That bad, huh?" Gareth asked with a smile.
"Worse, actually. I introduced myself to them and tried communicating with them, but they smashed up my Sentinels and chased me around and tried to kill me!"
"Yeesh," the bard grimaced. "Then what happened?"
"Caitlyn took care of them."
"Which one's Caitlyn?" Kane asked with a frown.
"The one with the sniper rifle and the top hat," Gareth provided.
The vampire thought for a moment and then he eventually got it. "Oh yeah. She's hot."
"Indeed she is," Damien said wistfully.
The raven haired artificer sighed and tapped his armrest. "So, what about you two? You said you went exploring?"
"Saved a girl and some adventurers from some bandits, then we met some rapey soldiers and Gareth drove their leader insane," Kane explained, counting off their adventures on one hand "Fought some assholes and joined the Adventurers Guild, joined this little Frost Dragon hunt and got ambushed by Frost Giants. Jinx dropped in, and here we are."
Damien blinked, and then smiled. "I missed your way with words, Kane."
"Back at you, buddy." Kane smiled. "God, it's good to find a familiar face."
Gareth snorted. A thought then occurred to him.
"Damien, do you know if anyone else signed on to Yggdrasil before or during the shut down?"
The former guildmaster's brow furrowed. He pondered the bard's words for a few long moments before answering. "I...don't think so. I honestly thought that I was the only one. Muspelheim was completely dead when I arrived, and I mean dead. There was no one in sight. Voice chat and everything else was empty. Even Surtur's dungeon was barren, and that place usually has somebody lurking around."
Gareth stroked his chin thoughtfully. Damien was right. Yggdrasil was vast, but one could always find other players or hear of something going on, but when the bard had signed on for the shut down, everything was dead silent. It was almost as if he were stepping into a world where all intelligent life had moved on. It was very eerie.
"And do you think…" the bard began but trailed off.
"And do I think that we weren't the only ones to have signed on?" Damien finished Gareth's question.
The bard nodded.
The former guildmaster shrugged. "I can't say for sure, but in my personal opinion...no. I don't think we were the only ones on Yggdrasil when it went down."
"Seriously?" Kane asked.
"I mean, think about. Yggdrasil was one of the biggest video games in modern history. It's genre defying. The customizability, the technology, the challenges, everything about it was unparalleled. Besides, Yggdrasil was much better than the shitty reality that we went back to when we logged out, even if everything was just numbers and code. We made friends, had fun with family, and some of us even found love online. To some it was just a game, but to a lot of people it became our second life. Hell, it was better than real life. People were really upset when the game's termination was announced. You should've seen the threads and message boards. I mean, surely we couldn't have been the only ones that stuck around in that sinking ship."
The two brothers couldn't help but agree with his logic. Sure, Yggdrasil was losing popularity, but it couldn't have been that bad to where it was time for them to pull the plug. And besides, there were still some loyal players left in the game, as evident by how there was even a petition even started to try to keep the game alive, albeit to no avail.
Kane exhaled slowly. "So, what do we do?" he asked.
"What?" Damien asked, raising an eyebrow.
'What do we do now? If we're not the only ones here, shouldn't we, I don't know, try and see if any other players showed up when the game went offline?"
"How do you suppose we do that?"
"I don't know, you're the genius, genius! You figure it out."
Damien scratched his head "I-I don't even know where to begin! It's not like we can set off an emergency flare or do smoke signals."
"Have you tried [Message]?"
The artificer nodded "Yes, I tried everyone on my friends list. I tried the admins, the mods, even those Swedish guys from the Vanaheim raid. I tried literally everyone I could think of and got squat."
"Have you tried us?" Gareth asked.
Damien paused. His eyes widened. "Yes...Yes I did try you, and got nothing."
"Are we still on your friends list?"
"Of course!"
Damien flicked his wrist, and a holographic menu appeared in front of him, and the two brothers circled the work desk and peered over Damien's shoulder. Right in the middle of a lengthy list of usernames were Gareth and Kane's names.
The brothers both frowned.
"Weird," Kane murmured. "Try calling us."
Damien tried each of the brothers, and got nothing. The artificer tried a couple more times, and got the same result. The vampire and the angel both tried calling Damien, but both ended up with nothing.
"Curiouser and curiouser," Gareth murmured.
"You think our signal's getting blocked?" Kane asked.
Damien gave him a funny look. "Our signal? What do you think we are, radios?
"I don't know, but we should be able to connect with one another."
The raven haired artificer rubbed his eyes. "Great, another thing to add to the growing list of weird things to sort out."
"We'll worry about that later," Gareth said, leaning against the work table. "There's still so much we don't know. It'll take time, but I'm certain that if we put our heads together, we can deal with this stuff, one problem at a time."
Kane and Damien nodded in agreement.
"For now, I think we should focus on the biggest problem we're currently facing: the Frost Giants and the gaggle of Adventurers and Workers who are currently licking their wounds."
"Oh yeah," Kane said slowly, having almost forgotten about them.
"Alright," Damien nodded "Where do we begin? What problems are we dealing with here?"
"For starters, I don't think the good general is being entirely honest with everyone," Gareth said.
Kane nodded in agreement "Yeah, I've been getting that vibe for a while. I mean, I don't think he's lying to us when he said that he's here to kill dragons, but it kinda felt like there was something he left out."
"Right, which means that if we want to get these guys home alive and in one piece, we need to know what the general's true objective is and, hopefully, fulfill it. The sooner we get it done, the sooner everyone goes home."
Damien sat up as his expression began to fill with wonder and excitement. "Does that mean that you'll be using your [Command] ability? Now that you're a real bard, you should be able to command people to do your bidding."
Gareth nodded hesitantly. "Yes but I don't feel all too comfortable forcing people to do things. However, I think I can get him to loosen up enough to talk."
A few minutes after their private meeting, Gareth, Kane and Damien arrived at the dining hall. The dining hall was a long, spacious chamber with a vaulted ceiling. The hall was filled with long wooden tables and benches. Scattered among the numerous tables and benches were the weary Adventurers and Workers of Zirdam's expedition. Some were eating and talking in hushed tones, others were resting their heads on the tables, trying to sleep and recuperate. Gareth spied Arche, who was sharing a distant corner table with the rest of her party, talking in low tones. The young mage noticed the bard and the other two players entered the dining hall and grew silent, worry flickered across her features.
Despite how filled the large dining hall was, a grim silence mostly filled the air, save for the hums of electricity, the ticks and tocks of the large clock that loomed above them (which also served as their main light source), the occasional, small chatter the expedition tried to start up time to time, and the hums and clicks of the Clockwork Sentinels, which served to watch over the men and women, occasionally getting them whatever they needed.
The bard looked away, and quickly located the general. The grizzled old warrior sat in a far corner, surrounded by his closest knights and soldiers, studying a yellowed old map that was laid out on the table before him. On either side of the general were Grolir and Nimble, who were studying a map and talking to their leader.
As the trio approached, Zirdam looked up and Nimble rose to his feet. Randor and Lydia appeared closeby, ready and waiting for whatever might happen.
Damien nodded at the general. "General, I believe it is time that we have a chat."
The old man's lips tightened into a line, but he nodded.
Damien and his Clockwork Sentinels lead the brothers, the general, Nimble, Grolir, Randor and Lydia to a sparsely furnished meeting room that has a large, round wooden table and a dozen ordinary looking chairs in the middle. Lining the walls of the room were bookshelves holding all manner of ancient looking books.
After some hesitation and some coaxing from Gareth, General Zirdam, Grolir and Nimble pulled up a seat at the table, as did the others. Once everyone was seated, the Clockwork Sentinels withdrew and took up positions around the room, and remained as still as statues.
Silence filled the meeting room as everyone waited for someone to begin speaking. Damien spoke first.
"General Zirdam," the raven haired artificer began, "I wish to extend a sincere apology to you and your men, for my subordinate's actions and for the misunderstanding that occurred outside."
"I accept," the general said "and to be honest, I can now see why you acted the way you did. These...golems and this place would attract all sorts of unwanted attention."
"Indeed. In the past, my comrades, my subordinates and myself have repelled all manner of attacks on our home by various unsavory people, all driven by greed. However, after talking things out with Mr. Gareth and Mr. Kane, I believe your intentions to be only… somewhat honest."
"What do you mean, 'only somewhat honest?'" Sir Nimble sniffed, almost offended.
"Not many people would venture this far or this high into a purportedly dangerous mountain range to simply hunt dragons" Damien replied in an even tone, "While it is true that there are dragons in this region, my scouts have reported that they are far more numerous in the more northern regions, many miles from here."
As Nimble seemed ready to argue against Damien, General Zirdam cut him off.
"And you would be right," the old warrior admitted with a mirthless smile "How astute of you, Mr…?"
"Damien," the artificer answered. "Just Damien."
Damien leaned forward and propped himself up with his elbows on the table, his chin resting on his interlaced fingers. "Let's get to the heart of the matter, shall we? What are you looking for, General?"
General Zirdam seemed very reluctant to answer but, unbeknownst to him and to his two companions, Gareth was subtly affecting his emotions via one of his bardic abilities: [Soothe Emotions], which allowed the bard to soothe and ease the tense emotions of his or her selected target. In this case, the bard focused on the general and his companions.
Grolir stroked his beard and glanced at the general, who glanced at his dwarven companion. The general's craggy features, while still composed, seemed to grow more relaxed and at ease. Eventually, Zirdam sighed and answered slowly.
"We are here to hunt dragons, that much is true. However, there are...additional goals to this mission."
"Which are, sir?" Kane asked, genuinely interested.
"One is to lend military aid to the dwarven clans of the Azerlisia Mountains," Grolir added, gruffly. The general looked at his friend in slight surprise, but nodded in agreement.
"Military aid?" Gareth asked. "Forgive me for asking but my brother and I, as well as the members of my party, are new to these lands."
"As am I," Damien added.
Grolir nodded "Aye, it's no problem lad. It's no secret neither, the sad state my people are in." A grim, sorrowful look formed on the ancient dwarf's bearded face. He took a long, shaky breath and elaborated.
"Centuries ago, the dwarves of the Azerlisia Mountains dwelt in peace. Our kingdom stretched from the northernmost reaches, into the Argland Council State, down past the Great Forest of Tob, near where E-Rantel currently lies. Presided over by the Runesmith King, going back countless generations to the founding of our kingdom and our kind, it was a golden age of prosperity and progress. Until, they came…"
Grolir began to tremble with anger and sorrow. He clenched a meaty fist and managed to regain control of himself, otherwise the old dwarf would've attacked something or began shedding tears.
"The Evil Deities," General Zirdam said, helping his friend, "otherwise known as the Demon Gods. Beings of unspeakable evil and power, they ravaged these lands for gods know how long. Countless nations and kingdoms fell before them, human and demi-human. No one was spared their wrath."
"Which is why one would be hard pressed to find a nation with a history dating back further than two hundered years." Sir Nimble added grimly.
Gareth frowned, and couldn't help but feel sympathy for Grolir. He could feel the rage, the anguish and sorrow radiating from the ancient dwarf like heat from the sun at noonday. The bard felt his eyes well up, tears threatening to fall like rain. He quickly rubbed his eyes with his sleeve.
"The Thirteen Heroes rose up against them and fought to end their senseless mayhem" Grolir continued, his voice tight. "Warriors, mages, and even craftsmen flocked to their banner, tired of being the prey of these...monsters and hoping to lend their skills to these legendary figures. Among them was one of our greatest runesmiths, the preeminent craftsman of the age, our king: Farbrek Irontooth. Armed with his faithful war hammer, forged by the greatest dwarven smiths of legend and empowered by mighty runes, our king helped in ending the lives of some of the worst among the Demon Gods."
"Sounds like a great king" Kane remarked sincerely.
"Aye, that he was…" Grolir smiled wanly. "But, the legend of Farbrek Irontooth is not a happy one, though many wish it were."
Grolir took a deep breath and continued his tale. "You see, though the Thirteen Heroes were the greatest of their age, defeating the Demon Gods was no small feat. They were numerous and very powerful. It took time and great pains to hunt down each of those bastards and to slay them. Once the fearsome heads of that awful hydra were severed, their followers and their minions would scatter and be easier to deal with. After most of the major Demon Gods were vanquished, there came a period of peace and healing."
"Most believed at the time that the Demon Gods were done for." Zirdam chimed in. "Most of the big shots were dead or sealed away, and their armies were on the run. For months, despite constant vigilance and thorough searches, there was no sign or clue that may have led to the remaining Demon Gods. After about a year or so, people began to believe that the war was won."
Grolir nodded. "Indeed. Homesick and weary of battle, Farbrek parted ways with the Thirteen Heroes and returned to Feo Berkana, his home and the seat of power for his kingdom. He was given a hero's welcome and it was well deserved."
"I'm sensing a 'but' coming," Kane murmured, though the ancient dwarf heard him, and acknowledged the vampire's word with another nod.
"Aye. He returned home victorious, a hero to all. But, Farbrek's joy and his respite didn't last. A week after returning home...the Demon Gods attacked."
A grim silence filled the meeting chamber as Grolir's expression darkened. The old dwarf forced the remainder of his tale from his mouth as if he were spitting out a begrudged compliment to an enemy.
"Our people didn't stand a chance. They breached the capital's outer defenses and barriers and quickly overwhelmed the garrison guarding Feo Berkana. They tortured Farbrek and forced him to watch as they slaughtered his family and his people. Those bastards destroyed the royal archives and butchered the Runesmith's college, leaving nothing behind but corpses and ashes - a message to Farbrek's former companions, who arrived too late, that they were still there, and that the war was far from over."
Gareth winced. Grolir's story reminded the bard of a handful of different stories that he had read back home, stuff from classic fantasy tales. While he had been a fan of these tragic and epic sagas, hearing it with such genuine emotions in a world where magic and monsters were real, it struck Gareth deeply.
"It was because of those bastards that our kingdom fractured, and why the ancient art of Runecraft was nearly lost to history!" Grolir growled. "Though we lost our king and much of our former strength and glory, it was we who had the last laugh when the Thirteen Heroes, aided by the few surviving warriors and craftsmen of Feo Berkana, hunted the monsters responsible and avenged their fallen comrade."
The ancient dwarf was breathing heavily when he concluded the tale. His eyes shone with emotion as Grolir managed to calm himself. A moody silence filled the room and resided there, until Gareth spoke up.
"That was a very...moving story, but I must ask: what does this have to do with the expedition?"
"Everything," Grolir rumbled.
"Even though the Demon Gods have finally been defeated," General Zirdam explained, reclining in his chair, "the misfortunes of the Dwarf Kingdom had only just begun. With no royal family or king and with the royal capital a smoldering ruin, the kingdom limped on and tried to pick up the pieces. They tried to resettle and rebuild Feo Berkana but ran into a large, furry problem: the Quagoa."
"Quagoa?" Kane asked.
"Large, nasty mole-like beastmen. They live in the underground caverns and tunnels in these mountains. For eons they've kept to themselves and waged endless wars with the goblins, kobolds, and each other, at least until recently. They've begun to organize and rally under one leader."
Grolir nodded. "Aye. No longer bound by their ancient grudges and hatred of each other, they've turned their fury onto my people, and we have been fighting ever since, wrestling for control over these mountains. They took Feo Berkana and several of our other cities and strongholds. All that remains of our kingdom and our people is confined to a scattered handful of cities and forts here in the south."
"Damn," Kane murmured under his breath.
"To make matters worse," General Zirdam said, a deep scowl forming on his face. "There's the Frost Dragons. Though they're busy killing the Frost Giants, they're more than happy to go out of their way to kill dwarves. The Quagoa have a...let's say an agreement with the dragons."
"What sort of an agreement?" Damien asked, who was currently engrossed by the information that he was receiving. "Like a treaty?"
"Perhaps," General Zirdam shrugged "But what is known that the Quagoa Clan Lords have a little arraignment with the dragons to work together and share a living space, in exchange for gold."
Grolir snorted derisively "I wouldn't call it an arrangement, more like servitude. The Quagoa are fierce and strong, but they are nothing compared to Olasird'arc Haylilyal. They would never dare incur his wrath. As long as they pay tribute to him, they'll continue occupying Feo Berkana."
"And who is this...Olsen person?" Kane asked.
"Olasird'arc Haylilyal," Zirdam corrected the vampire. "He is the White Dragon Lord, at least that's what he calls himself. He's the biggest and meanest dragon that you can find in these mountains."
"He currently resides in what was once the royal palace in Feo Berkana," Grolir said bitterly, "lording himself over Frost Dragon and Quagoa alike, collecting his tribute in gold from his 'subjects.'"
"Right, so mole-people and dragons are bad, and you want us to kill them for you." Kane said, trying to sum up the dwarf and the general's lengthy tale.
Grolir's bushy eyebrows rose, before he let out a deep, wheezing laugh.
"If only it were that easy," General Zirdam sighed. "But I'm afraid that this dragon is far beyond even your skills. The Quagoa also have a natural ability that makes it damn difficult to kill them with swords and other normal weapons. Besides, they're far more numerous than our little band to deal with alone."
"Then why are you here?" Damien asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "You said you wished to lend the dwarves military assistance?"
The general nodded. "The overall task of this expedition was to hunt dragons, hopefully reduce their numbers, as advertised. You see, reports have been coming in about a massive Quagoa built up near the Fortress at the Great Rift, with dragons supposedly providing support. Our hope was to take some of the pressure off of the Dwarven Army."
"But what of your Empire?" Damien questioned "From what I've heard, the Dwarf Kingdom and your Empire are allies? A man of your position could easily raise a larger, more well equipped force to crush these invaders."
"Correct, though there a number of difficulties with that approach," Zirdam explained. "Firstly, the Azerlisia Mountains is the borderline between the Empire and the Re-Estize kingdom. Should we move a significant portion of our forces this far south and this close to Re-Estize, we'd risk open war. Secondly, most of our resources are currently tasked with maintaining the peace within our own borders and with aiding the Dragon Kingdom with their own beastmen problem. And thirdly, well, we can't move nearly as quickly with a force of that size. It'd be cheaper and quicker to use a force of Adventurers and Workers."
Damien nodded thoughtfully. "I see. You never hoped to fully crush the enemy, you hoped to be a buffer, a distraction even."
"But that's suicide," Gareth said, realizing the general's intention.
"Not if we're quick and careful," Zirdam grinned.
The bard stared at the general with awe.
"As to our secondary goal," Grolir said. "We had hoped that, well, fantasized really...we hoped to recover the war hammer of Farbrek Irontooth."
Gareth blinked and Damien cocked an eyebrow.
"Why? How?" Kane asked, trying to understand what the dwarf meant.
"The hammer of the Runesmith King is an ancient and powerful artifact," Grolir explained solemnly. "It is an heirloom of my people, and a priceless treasure of Runecraft. It was lost to us when Feo Berkana fell to the Demon Gods, but over the years, we have been able to piece together its resting place. It is where it always has been."
"Oh no…" the vampire groaned, realizing what was coming.
"In the royal treasure vault, located under the palace in Feo Berkana."
"What?" Sir Nimble exclaimed.
"He said it," Kane murmured under his breath.
"Oh boy," Damien said in surprise.
"I never knew this," the Imperial Knight said "Why was I never told!"
"If we did, you would've never come with us," Zirdam said plainly. "Even if his highness had ordered you, you would've thought up some excuse to get out of this trip - not that I'd blame you."
"I-I would never!" Nimble sputtered. "I'll gladly execute my emperor's orders to the letter, even unto death!"
"Right, of course you would," the general murmured, rolling his eyes.
Gareth was trying to process all that they had been told. While the expedition was to kill dragons, it seems that they were going to be used as cannon fodder and as a distraction for a bunch of violent mole creatures and Frost Dragons. There was also a missing treasure that was being guarded by an incredibly dangerous dragon that was feared by said murderous mole creatures and man eating dragons.
Despite this, the bard was still sort of glad that he came on this trip. There was a very likely chance that the White Clovers and the others would've been torn apart very quickly. On the other hand, Gareth was beginning to think that maybe they should've said no to this job.
"I know this is a lot to take in," Grolir said, "but our situation is dire. We have been losing ground and are on the brink of giving up. Although it was a desperate hope, recovering that war hammer would raise our spirits. Not only does it contain great power, but it is a symbol of what we had lost. With it, we might be able to hold on to hope for just a bit longer, and show that maybe we can regain all that we've lost."
General Zirdam nodded in agreement. "Indeed. I had hoped that with this expedition, we would be able to lend a hand, thus reinforcing the bonds between our two nations. We don't always get along, but we will stand shoulder to shoulder against monstrous threats, like in the days of the Demon Gods."
Gareth nodded. He saw the reasoning behind their aims, but he couldn't see how they could accomplish it with so small a force. The odds seemed to be against them, if anything. But maybe they could even the odds a little. He glanced at Damien and tilted his head.
The raven haired artificer noticed this and nodded. Damien looked at the general and at Grolir.
"Gentlemen, I can now see the reason and intentions behind your actions. They are noble, but badly miscalculated and doomed to fail."
Nimble scowled, but said nothing. The Imperial Knight secretly agreed that the intent was good, but they were ill equipped to see this through to the end.
"However," Damien continued, "I believe that you have a chance, with my help."
This caught their attention. General Zirdam sat up and Grolir's expression brightened.
"What?" the general asked, surprised.
"I believe that you may be able to succeed but only with my help" Damien said, a grin forming on his face. "If you wish to kill dragons, I believe that I have some toys that could help with that."
"Did someone say toys?" a woman's voice suddenly chirped. The general and the dwarf spun around, and saw that it was Jinx, who was laying on a bookshelf on her stomach like a cat.
"By the gods!" The dwarf yelped, putting his hand over his heart. "When did you get here?!"
"I've been here for a while, hun." Jinx giggled, falling off the bookshelf. She landed on her face, making the two of them wince, but she shot straight up, looking evidently unharmed. "If you're here to blow stuff up, count me in!"
"So, what do you say?" Damien asked.
The general and Grolir shared uncertain looks but eventually they nodded.
"Excellent!" the raven haired artificer smiled, rubbing his hands together.
"But if we hope to reinforce the Great Rift, we must hurry" Grolir warned. "Last I heard, the Quagoa may launch an attack in a week, but knowing them, it'll more likely be in three days."
"Let's get started then! Plenty to do and very little time."
General Zirdam and Grolir both quickly laid out large and detailed maps of the mountains on the table. With that, Damien, Gareth, Kane and the others got to work planning their next move.
(a/n: Well, there you go. Don't worry, next chapter is going to be pretty action packed and will end this little arc in the mountains. I'm also going to provide a list of references at the end of these chapters to show the different little tidbits and song lyrics that have been used. Anyway, until next time. See you later!)
(List of References)
(Chapter title): song by Iron & Wine
Apocalypse Now!: Mention of Colonel Kurtz
Hellraiser: Mention of the Lament Configuration
Community: Jinx's surprise appearance on the bookshelf.
Danmachi: Lydia was based off of Syr.
Dishonored: Clockwork Sentinels, (the entire guild itself = Jindosh's mansion)
League of Legends: Jinx (and her song), Vi, Caitlyn
Jane and the Dragon: (the 2nd song sung by Jinx)