A/N: The wonderful world of Exile (Avernum) remains the property of Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software. I promise to return to the game unharmed the following people: Della, Kellia, Kev, Harg, Crisper, Tess, Anford, Cheryl, and the bandits; and places: Fort Draco, the base under the Fort, and northeastern Avernum. Readers—I know you're out there, please, let me know what you think.
It seemed strange, leaving Fort Ganrick with no particular orders, as Jenneke and his platoon settled up gambling debts, said their farewells to the soldiers remaining in the fort, and shouldered their packs. To look at things here, war seemed so far away, and the peaceful farms with their rows of swollen mushrooms, carefully tended, cavewood fences to protect the crops from the occasional loose lizard. Down in the Great Cave, there was room for lizard ranching, but here, there were the sickly cave cows, and close farm upon farm.
Fort Draco could be smelled before it could be seen. For years, Fort Draco had stood at one of the northernmost points of Avernum, soldiers stationed here fending off assaults by the ever-hostile nephilim, the occasional ravenous spider, and the ever-present bandit raids. Fort Draco, however, had an even more important purpose for the nation of Avernum: for here, in the tunnels nearest Fort Draco, were rich veins of iron ore, and to Fort Draco, the iron came to be smelted. Some went as bars of metal, historically to Formello and the Abyss. Shipments to the Abyss had halted with the war, however, for the Empire's first attacks had come to that region, and they held the territory in a firm grasp. Still, Fort Draco continued smelting iron, and everything was covered with a thick layer of soot.
The guards, nodded at the platoon as they entered the fort. While some of the regular forces did not care for the extraordinaries, those on the fringes of the nation were more accustomed to cooperation with the extraordinaries, and the rivalry was lessened. Within the fort, the people walking by looked worried, and the snippets of overheard conversation seemed to be centered on the sole topic of the huge magical barriers which had divided this sector from the rest of Avernum.
The Fort Draco foundry was a hot, small, and very busy place. Against one wall, there was a broad, shallow pool of molten metal, running off into thin troughs, where the metal solidified into ingots. How the metal was kept so hot was unclear, though it was almost certainly magic. A tall thin woman was heaving sacks of ore over to the smelter, muscles like steel cable visible through her typically pale skin.
She gave them a nod, not stopping her work, and said, "Welcome, strangers. I'm Della."
"What's that you're doing?" asked Feodoric.
"I help keep the foundry going," said Della. "While I can."
"What's wrong with the foundry?" said Jenneke, wondering if they'd found a task to do.
"Those cursed nephilim have cut us off from our best ore, but we've got plenty stored up, so we'll be making steel for awhile."
"Where are these nephilim?" asked Jenneke.
"Up north. They took all our mines from us," said Della. "Hope we get back at 'em soon. Avernum needs Draco weapons."
"Can we buy any ore or metal?" said Brother Michael.
"Sorry. As long as those barriers outdoors are up, we can't spare an ounce of precious metals or supplies," replied Della. She continued pouring ore into the smelter.
"I understand," said Jenneke.
A short, stout woman, taking notes on lichen parchment, slapped Jenneke on the shoulder, leaving a heavy soot handmark, though it probably would soon be lost if they stayed around Draco long.
"Hello, I'm Kellia," she said.
"Erm, hello," said Jenneke, rotating his shoulder to check for injury. "What are you up to?"
"I'm forewoman here," replied Kellia. "We can't talk long. We have a load of ingots due in Formello. Our next load of steel has to go there anyway, what with the barrier and all, but there's a large barracks there."
"Barrier?" said Jenneke. "We've only heard a little about that."
"Yeah, the barrier just appeared," said Kellia. "Blocks the roads and passages. We can't send stuff anywhere far away. It's a bad, bad thing for Avernum. Lots of fortresses count on us for weapons."
"Ssso, any shortagesss?" said Thissa. "What with the war and the barrier and all?"
"The barriers have been a disaster, simply a disaster. We can't get much ore, with that, and the nephilim. That means we can't fill our orders," said Kellia, and she thought for a moment. "You know something? You could help. If you find any iron bars, bring them here. I'll pay well. We really need the metal."
"Great," said Jenneke, "we took some out of this kitty fort on our last assignment."
In the center of the fort, they could see the fort warehouse, choking dust filling the air. Ore from surrounding mines was stored in neat, labeled piles, waiting to be weighed, sold, and smelted. In the warehouse, there was a very young man, just starting to get fuzz on his upper lip, moving piles of dirt with a large broom.
"Hi! I'm Kev!" he said, seeming excited to meet strangers, or perhaps just a chance to stop the rather futile work of trying to clean the floor in Fort Draco.
"What are you doing in here?" said Jenneke.
"Sweeping up the warehouse," said Kev.
"Must be a bit tedious," said Nigel.
"Ya, it's nice to see someone, though," said Kev. "This place makes me nervous. I keep hearing noises."
"What sort of noises? Where are they coming from?" said Jenneke.
"From the storeroom with all the barrels. I hear scraping in there all the time. I try not to go back there," said Kev. "It sure doesn't sound like rats."
"Have you seen any rats around?" asked Feodoric.
"Have I! Big as me! And sometimes, they blow this foul, nasty gas at you!" said Kev. "I run when I see 'em. You should do the same."
"We're a little better equipped to deal with ratsss," said Thissa, with a pointed look from Kev's broom to his own spear.
"Still," said Kev, looking a little nervous at actually seeing a slith up close, "I run when I see 'em."
"It's best you do," said Jenneke, motioning to the rest of the platoon. "I'm in the mood for a drink. C'mon. Keep up the good work, Kev."
Kev looked quite pleased to have the adventurers remember his name, and then the group left the warehouse, crossed the street, and came into the inn named "House of Crisper."
At the bar, an unsurprisingly filthy man was sitting by the bar, swilling mushroom ale. Taking seats at the bar, Jenneke said, "Lo. I'm Jenneke. And you?"
"Harg," grunted the man.
"You seem to be in a very bad mood," said Jenneke. "Ale no good?"
Harg belched, and said, "You would be, too. I am thwarted in love. The picture of all feminine beauty? Her name is Rose. She lives in Formello. Wish I had the nerve to propose to her. But I don't. So, I drink." He took another swig.
The rather deranged-seeming, though still handsome bartender, was constantly—and futilely—trying to clean the bar's counter, and he said, "Welcome to my inn! My name's Crisper."
"So, what's on the menu today?" said Jenneke, ignoring the morose Harg who didn't want to talk any more.
"All drinks are a gold. It don't matter what you order because it all tastes the same. The soot you know," said Crisper, laughing. "you can sleep in the common room for five gold, and I even got yer traveling food for sale. Feel free to stay and rest for a while. Just never mind me. Takes all my time keeping this place clean."
"We'll take some ale," said Jenneke.
"Here's some of what would be our finest ale if it weren't for all the darn soot," said Crisper, serving up several mugs of mushroom ale, spiced with flecks of soot floating on top.
"So, what makes cleaning so tough here?" said Feodoric, who had settled in Mertis before the war.
Crisper twitched. "Let me tell you all about the ashes! I never knew when I bought this place there would be so many ashes! A ton a day, piles and piles of them, all over. And smoke, too! And it isn't just that!" The nervous tic affecting his face became even more pronounced, almost frightening. "It's the spiders! I have to clear away their webs! The noises they make! All of them!"
"What'sss ssso difficult about a bunch of ssspidersss?" said Thissa.
The nervous tic got even worse. "They're what did this to me! It was the happy spiders! I can't get them out of my brain! I hear them speaking to me sometimes! A whole bunch of them live in a cave to the west. Some of them came around, not that long ago, looking for someone to help them. I've always hated spiders!" said Crisper. "And ... when they hit on me ... it only makes it worse. Do you know what it's like, having a whole nest of spiders hit on you? Do you have any idea?" He was near to frothing at the mouth.
"Err, no," said Jenneke. "I think we'll avoid them. Thank you for the ale and the warning."
Jenneke downed the ale quickly, and started for the door. Out in the street again, he said, "That man is nutters."
"I've heard about those spiders," said Feodoric, "but I didn't think they could actually drive a man mad like that."
"Wonder how much a boat goes for?" said Nigel. "Might be nice to go on the water, instead of by the road."
"We can ask," said Jenneke.
They strolled into the boatworks, and there, an energetic, long-haired woman, lightly covered in sawdust, was busily working, and she looked up at them. "I'm Tess, the shipwright of Fort Draco. Pleased ta meetcha."
"How much are the boats?" asked Jenneke.
"Three hundred gold," replied Tess.
"Ouch," said Jenneke. "Guys, we're going to have to pass on the boat, unless we pick up a pile more stuff to sell."
"All right," said Tess. "You know, boats are the safest way to travel. Empire don't got many boats down here. Don't have the know how."
"That's true," said Jenneke, "and folk like you and us, that's our advantage. But we don't got the money right now. Maybe later."
"All right, have a good day, then," said Tess, turning her full attention back to the boat-making tasks.
As they walked along, they saw what seemed an almost incongruous sight—a middle-aged man in apprentice mage robes, reclining against a statue, looking over the water.
"Hello, travelers," he said, getting to his feet. "I'm Anford. Commander of Fort Draco."
"And you're an apprentice mage?" said Feodoric.
"Yes and no. I am the commander of Fort Draco. I'm also a mage, but that isn't as important," replied Anford. "My duty is to this fort, first and foremost. I've been an apprentice mage for five years. In the slith wars, I got assigned to this fort, and they found I had a knack for tactics, so I never returned to the Tower of Magi."
"Why are you out here?" said Jenneke.
"This is where I do my thinking about the fort. My office, so to speak. Normally, I'd be planning tactics, defenses, that sort of thing. But not lately. We fought off a bunch of Empire assaults, and they've left us alone lately, so that's not on my mind," said Anford. "We have a different threat now. I'm mainly thinking about the barriers."
"So, what do you know about the barriers?" asked Jenneke. "We haven't actually seen them."
"The barriers appeared a week ago. Magic barriers, outdoors, huge, of a sort we've never seen before, cutting off this area from the rest of Avernum. We can't break them down, we can't touch them. It's a disaster! They cut Avernum into pieces," said Anford. "They've completely cut off this corner of Avernum. Who made them? We have no idea? How can they be brought down? Again, no idea. Perhaps they may have a better idea of what to do about them in Formello. There are mages in Formello, and powerful priests, too. If anyone wanted to do something about the barriers, Formello is the place to begin to search for answers."
"Well, we seem to be at liberty these days," said Jenneke. "You wouldn't have any odd jobs for us, would you?"
"Hmm, well, I'm glad you asked. There have been some brigands ambushing caravans near the fort. Very near. I think they're based very close to the fort, but I can't spare the men to go searching them out. You find them, and eliminate their leader, I would appreciate it."
"We'll see what we can do," said Jenneke. "It's still been going on?"
"Yes, just yesterday there was another caravan ambushed," replied Anford.
"Well, it wouldn't be the brigands we already cleared out, then," said Jenneke. "We'll go hunting for them."
Moving along, Jenneke said, "Might be better to go out of the fort, have a look-see."
They started out of the fort, when Nigel said, "Why would someone set up shop outside the fort?"
"Good question," said Jenneke. "Let's check it out."
The shop was tiny, and behind a counter was a small woman with curly hair, watching them silently.
"Good day to you," said Jenneke. "What's your name?"
"I'm Cheryl," she replied quietly.
"What are you doing out here?" asked Jenneke.
"Just sitting. Maybe with some things you could buy. But things that are perfectly legal to sell!" replied Cheryl, getting increasingly nervous. "And you can sell me things, too. Nothing wrong with that. Nothing illegal going on here."
Nigel looked at her slyly, and said, "So, I can't buy anything illegal from you, then?"
"There's nothing illegal here. Nope!" said Cheryl, positively shaking now. "And the ore piles back there? They're my property. I can prove it! So stay away."
Not having even seen the ore piles behind the small shop yet, Nigel realized they were definitely onto something, as he glance from Cheryl to Jenneke, and back to Cheryl. "Can't I take just a little peek at your entirely legal pile of ore?" said Nigel.
"Just stay away from them," said Cheryl, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Don't go behind my shop. Please? OK?"
"Well, maybe," said Nigel. "Let me take a look at what you got to sell here."
"Here, I got candles and torches, see, perfectly legal. And first aid kits, and some dice. People get bored, need some entertainment, nothing wrong with that," said Cheryl.
"And lockpicks?" said Jenneke.
"I could use some," said Nigel. "How much?"
"Thirty-seven gold," she replied.
"Thirty-seven? I might have to go look through the ore pile to scrounge up some loose change," said Nigel.
"Thirty-two?" said Cheryl.
"Make it thirty-one," said Nigel.
"Deal," said Cheryl. "Just, please don't go back there. Don't make trouble for me."
"Wouldn't dream of making trouble for you," said Nigel, as Jenneke counted out the coins.
"All right, then," said Jenneke. "Have a good day, and don't worry, we'll stay far away from your ore piles."
As soon as they had walked out of the shop, Jenneke turned to his companions and said, "I lied. Let's go."
"That's the way, sarge," said Nigel, laughing. "Wouldn't it be something if them bandits Anford's worried about were popping up through there?"
"Sure would," said Jenneke. "And I'd lay odds that they will."
They went into the back of the shop, finding a poorly concealed trap door amidst the ore piles, and descending the ladder, they met a few guards, dispatched them, and continued on, finding their way to some sort of meeting room. A crude wooden table—of a quality not that unusual for Avernum—ran the length of the room, and there was a pervasive odor of sweat and bad mushroom ale.
As they fought, they saw one of the men was wearing the armor of an active soldier of Avernum. Undoubtedly, his position in the army had enabled the bandits to evade capture before, but with the death of such a treasonous individual, the crime ring would end ... even if some of them did escape the onslaught of Jenneke and his platoon.
Searching through one box, they found several thick sheaves of paper. There were records, notes, and contracts signed with bloody thumbprints.
"Appears this is the headquarters of the 'Black Saber'," said Jenneke with a definite note of disgust. "They're stealing ore and supplies from the surrounding area."
"No doubt, using the chaos that comes with war," said Michael. "How could they stay undetected so long down here?"
"Seems that one of the Fort Draco guard was actually their leader," said Jenneke, spitting. "Disinformation."
"Then we sssolved the problem," said Thissa.
"I'd guess so," said Jenneke, rolling the papers up and stuffing them in his pack. "Anford probably will want to see this."
After ensuring that they had cleared the lair, they went back up to where Anford was still staring over the river, planning in the green fungal light.
"Sir," said Jenneke, handing over the papers they found. "We found and killed the brigands. They were based underneath the fort."
"How embarrassing. Brigands, right under my very nose," said Alford with a sigh. "Humiliating. Still, I greatly appreciate your assistance, and I'd like to pay you for it." He took a pouch from a fold in his robes. "Here's some coinage. Always useful for adventurers such as yourselves. Thanks again for your help. And, if you could keep this between us ... I'd appreciate it."
"No problem," said Jennee. "Anything else we can do for you?"
"Apart from eliminate the entire Empire army?" said Anford with a bitter chuckle. "Not really."
"Very well, then," said Jenneke. "Thank you, sir."
Leaving Fort Draco, Jenneke said, "Now, I want to go see them barriers myself. What do you guys think?"
"Seems like a good idea," said Feodoric. "I'd like to get a look at them myself."
They crossed the rickety wooden bridge to the tunnels west of Fort Draco. The grim tunnels were festooned with spiderwebs, patrolled by fist-sized spiders.
"Just watch out for those damned talking type," said Jenneke. "I like being in my right mind."
"You're in the army of Avernum," said Nigel, "you're a lost cause, sarge."
"Well, I can always feed you to an aranea, Nig," said Jenneke.
"Thanks but I ..." said Nigel, dropping off as they came in sight of the barrier.
"Holy shit," said Jenneke.
Michael stepped closer, studying it. "Nothing they said really did justice to this."
The barrier was enormous, blocking the entire gallery with a thin, impenetrable sheet of energy. When nothing was nearby, it seemed almost insignificant, barely shimmering, obscuring the view beyond only slightly. But as the platoon drew near, the barrier sprang to life, a hot, angry green, daring them to step forward to be seared.
"Fuck," said Jenneke. "If it's like this, carving up all Avernum, we're fucking doomed."
"Your Empire makesss thessse?" said Thissa.
"They must have," said Feodoric. "Who else has that kind of power?"
"We've got to do something," said Jenneke, "or the war's over, and we're just waiting to be picked off."
They continued, finding a mummified body suspended from one of the webs, long since sucked dry.
"At least that's normal," said Nigel. "I think there might be something worthwhile. There usually is." He climbed up, and saw a slender foot-long object concealed under the webbing, and took a knife to cut away the webs.
Within the webs, the body was a humanoid of a race that none of the platoon had ever before seen. Very tall, impossibly thin, pure white hair, quite probably here for months by the amount of dessication. In a pouch at its side, there were several gold disks and a slender wand.
Nigel began pocketing the loot.
"Cut it out, Nig," said Jenneke. "We got company."
Killing the spiders that had come to attack, they then took the time to examine the loot, and Feodoric took the wand.
"OK, shall we go down to Formello, then?" said Jenneke.
"Everyone seems to think that's the place to go," said Feodoric. "Might as well."
They continued south, and found that the fort across the way, long since abandoned, was guarded by undead creature, wandering back and forth randomly, until they crossed paths with the platoon, and it became clear that their orders were to kill anything alive.
Continuing eastward, they came around a bend, finding that they had caught up to a band of mixed undead—zombies and skeletons—which appeared to have been sent to cause trouble for Formello. They killed these, saving trouble for Formello, and continued the eastern trek.
As they neared Formello, they had a welcome sighting of human soldiers, though it was worrisome that the small band of soldiers was so exhausted.
After an exchange of greetings, the leader, dressed in the traditional garb of one of the good priesthoods, said, "You better watch yourself. Those western tunnels are pretty dangerous. There's a band of kitties in that fort, keep creating undead and sending them our way."
"We met some," said Jenneke. "Killed them before they got here." He tilted his head, and said, "At least, if it counts as killing when they're already dead."
"I know what you mean," said the priest. "If it weren't for me, this band would've been torn apart weeks ago. It's not any one group, just the sheer numbers that wear you down."
Her troops nodded in agreement, and the two groups said their farewells, moving on in the directions they had been traveling. Rounding the last bend, they came into the huge cavern with a high arching ceiling with a higher concentration of glowing fungus on the roof than many other places. The light revealed small farms with grazing lizards and neat rows of edible mushrooms. Formello was straight ahead.