Chapter 5

Reaver's Mountain

Reaver sighed as another fool demanded a book that was vastly past the reader's skill level.

"Why are you deserving of Vigilantes of the Eastern Breeze?" Reaver asked uncaringly. The man hocked loudly and spat into a vase, which Reaver was sure was not for expectoration.

"Well, I'm a respectful citizen of Brightwall Village, and I need to do my part to defend my town from those dirty foreigners!" The man pulled up his tight yellow pants up high on his waist. Reaver assumed that was all the explanation he was going to get.

"…I'm glad to see you are so willing. Return it in a week. Sooner if possible," Reaver said, stamping the book and watching the man spit into the vase again as he left. Reaver simply shook his head.

"I suppose I'd better warn Samuel about the urn before it begins to smell…" Reaver brought his cane onto the table and tapped it to get attention. The people were still crowded around the table and ignoring him. He sighed and drew a pistol. He fired it into the door, sending most people to the ground.

"Ahem…I think the Academy will be closing early today. Go home!" The people started to shuffle towards the door. Reaver pointed the pistol into the crowd, ready to pick off someone as an example, when a glowing Guild Seal image appeared in front of the desk and Garth appeared. The people in the front library turned and ran upon the site the irritable mage. Reaver almost jumped for joy upon seeing the Hero of Will.

"Oh, thank goodness. You couldn't imagine how boring this was…" Page returned from the west wing with Samuel and his other librarians, who had ropes and rags with them.

"I found them tied up! Reaver said he was giving them a break," Page yelled. Ben returned from the east wing, smiling calmly at the group.

"Oh come now, we've taken care of all sales and checkouts. I can see you've enjoyed your time away," Reaver said suggestively. Garth grabbed his shirt collar and pulled his partially over the desk.

"Sparrow's box is gone."

"Gone? Who took Sparrow's box?" Reaver demanded, waving his pistol through group.

"If you mean Sparrow's treasure, the Queen took it to Sabine to prove that she was a hero," Samuel said, still furious at the immortal. Reaver turned to him and cocked eyebrow.

"Sabine…oh…the wonderful people of Mistpeak. It seems we'll need to go north. Dear people of Brightwall, I'm sorry to say I have to leave. Come Garth, I must take you to the Dweller Camp, I would suggest packing warmer clothes."

"You've given me back my journal. You've earned yourself some time. But I'm not going to follow you around for weeks. You have three days to prove your innocence. I'm going to kill you on the third day." Garth said in a threatening monotone. Reaver simply smiled and leaned in close to Garth.

"What a dubious challenge. I accept." Reaver stood up and went to the door. He started to open it but Page jumped in front of him, and slammed it shut with her gun drawn.

"Oh no. I'm not letting you parade around like you own this place. You are going to pay Reaver!"

"No. His life is mine to take!" Garth interjected, using a force push spell to knock her aside. Ben drew his sword and ran at Garth, but he was sent to the ground with a similar spell.

"Reaver's life depends on this. We don't have time for either of you." Garth opened the door and started out, followed by Reaver.

"Too-da-lo!" Reaver said with a wave. He smiled at the prospect. Three days or more with Garth. His life as Chief Executive of Bowerstone Industrial was becoming dreadfully boring, and he was soon to start some other endeavor, but with Garth here, he was having fun. More fun than he'd had in years.

"Garth, my friend, allow me to prepare myself. I have a small cottage out in the country here."

"Hurry. I'll be at the town square," Garth said uncaringly, folding his arms and following a path away from the Academy. Reaver went to the home and using his cane knocked on the door. A thin woman with a child answered the door.

"Reaver, sir, I sent this month's rent when your collector made his rounds…"

"You've been evicted. Leave now."

"You can't just evict me at a moment's notice!"

"Oh, I can, and it's not even an evil act. Not that I care, of course," Reaver said with a laugh. He opened the door completely with his cane then pushed the woman and her child out. He slammed the door and went into the bedroom, looking through their closet.

"Ah-ha! Dweller clothing." Reaver took his hat and cane and set it to the side, and changed into the full dweller suit. It was a brown long coat over a red wool shirt along with slacks and high furry boots.

"Excellent. Now I won't freeze in that damned place. I only wish it came in yellow, or at least white." Reaver said with a sigh, grabbing his hat and cane and leaving the house. The woman was still standing outside the house with her child.

"Alright, I need a new tenant for my fine home. Ma'm you seem to be homeless. I'd like to offer you a deal. The rent is only two hundred gold a month."

"Two hundred gold? That's almost twice what we were paying earlier! And you're wearing my husband's clothes!"

"This is a limited time offer. First payment up front, of course," The woman sighed and shuffled around her pockets and found a gold bag with the correct amount in it.

"Thank you, and welcome to Reaver Industry's Cottages."

"Damn your black heart Reaver!" The woman muttered as Reaver left the house, walking proudly in his new uniform. He found Garth at the city square, looking at the statue in the center of the town.

"Ah, Sir Edward, the first of the Old Guard to return! What a hero…"

"Reaver, Hammer had a husband. Do you know if she…"

"She had one son. But she didn't want her son to be a monk, or hero for that matter, so she gave him to a poor family from some backwater town in east Albion with three children who obviously couldn't tell the difference in a fourth. Of course, as far as I heard, every child in that family save the youngest is dead."

"And this boy is Hammer's son?"

"I assume so, but I cannot promise you this. If I'm not mistaken, we've met him already." Reaver started toward Brightwall Bridge, followed by Garth.

"Why are you wearing those silly clothes?"

"It's the clothing of the people. It gets cold on those mountains Garth. Could you imagine the riots if this face was frozen off in that blasted tundra?"

"Oh I can. The cheering. 'Reaver's dead! What a day to celebrate!'" Garth said, his face slipping into a smile. He resisted however, and returned to his non-judgmental blank frown he wore so often.

"You're no fun."

"Reaver! Garth!" They turned to see Samuel, Page, and Ben standing at the end of the bridge. Page was wearing a thick coat and a satchel on her back, and Ben had a soldiers backpack and winter uniform.

"Garth, you're a menace to society. I'm going with you to keep an eye on you," Ben said.

"Don't you have work to do in this town?"

"Saker and my men can handle it. Especially if neither of you is here." Ben Finn said. Page stepped forward, holding her pistol and a weapon which looked holy. Garth roughly recognized it as Avo's Lamentation from his studies.

"As long as you are still going to kill Reaver, I want to be around to see it. And I need to keep an eye on you. I've got to make sure you don't go back to Bowerstone."

"Of course. Assuming you don't get it my way, you are welcome to come. Shall we then?" Garth asked Reaver. The immortal smiled slyly and went across the bridge and started up a nearby mountain. Page followed him, with Ben and Garth behind them. Reaver looked back at his little caravan.

"It seems we are going on a journey. Let us begin our wonderful adventure!" Reaver declared.

Reaver couldn't see his hand in the terrible blizzard which had gripped the Mispeak summit. The snowy blasts of wind were like waves of the force push spell Reaver had become acquainted to in his time with Garth.

"Reaver! How much further?" Garth yelled. Reaver turned around and looked at the man. Behind him, Ben Finn was trying to pull Page forward, but the two were falling behind.

"It's up this curve. There's a rickety wooden bridge then a small lookout area. Then it's a straight shot to the Dweller Camp."

"And this Sabine…"

"He's is the chief of the Dwellers. The Queen left Mistpeak in his care. Why, if I had my way, this would all be a lumber factory, with carts and transports of all forms. But I digress, if Samuel is to be trusted, he has the music box and our access to the witch!" Reaver and Garth yelled back and forth as Ben Finn and Page caught up.

"This is the worst storm I've seen on Mistpeak in years!" Ben yelled, his hand held to his face as he leaned against the howling wind. Page tripped and fell into a pile of snow. The extreme whiteness of the terrain was seriously challenging their directional abilities, even in those so advanced as Reaver's.

"We have to stop Reaver! This storm is making it hard to see you!"

"No! We have to continue…" Reaver stopped yelling and turned around, staring blankly into the wind. He swore he heard something.

"What is it Reaver?" Page yelled. Garth turned around as well, and both stared into the thick blizzard, searching for the source of the sound.

"A noise…" Reaver uttered, not to anyone but himself. Page tried to stand up and drew her pistol but fell into a snow drift. Ben pushed through the snow to her side, and stood over her with his rifle.

"Reaver…is that…" Garth started, but was interrupted by a howl. Reaver immediately relaxed.

"Wolves. This I can handle." Reaver drew his pistol and pointed it into the whiteness of the blizzard, "Garth…would you be so kind as to cast an ice storm spell to give me a clear shot?" He yelled.

"My spell creates ice storms. However, I have another idea. I'll just try to gain control of the blizzard!" Garth yelled raising his hands in the air and grunting as the wind of the blizzard suddenly changed direction, swirling Garth's coat around him as his Will lines glowed brighter. With a cry of effort and defiance he thrust his hands out to his sides, the howling wind and snow dispersing in a dome of pure force that covered the area around them. The winds shifted and howled, then suddenly a wolf ran into the cover of the dome. The creature had blood and saliva dripping from his mouth. Reaver raised his pistol and shot the creature right between the eyes, killing it instantly. Another wolf entered the dome, followed by yet another.

"This is easy. Like picking off rebels," Reaver said, intentionally trying to rile Page. He saw her sneer at him as he shot the other two wolves.

"Alright Garth, I think that's it for the wolves…" Ben said, lowering his weapon. Garth put his hands down and blizzard came again with fury, almost knocking Reaver over.

"Damned storm…I ought to…" Reaver barely turned around in time to see the balvarine standing over him. Its white furred face and glowing red eyes made it appear like an apparition in this storm. The thing had large long teeth, which were like bloody stalagmites and stalactites. The creature was once a human, but had been transformed and had long arms and legs and an incredible ability to both jump and climb. It roared at Reaver as he analyzed it.

"Ahem, well, nice to meet you!" Reaver quickly loaded and raised his pistol and shot it three times in the head in a quick succession, sending the creature to the ground in a heap. He reloaded the pistol and prepared to finish off the creature (because one must always shoot it one last time to be sure) when he was knocked into the air by a red balvarine, no doubt a member of the pack of the white he had just fought. He crashed into a high pile of snow.

"By the banshees of Oakvale." Reaver pulled himself up from the snow and saw another one, a black balvarine this time, coming at him. These monsters were the weakest, and Reaver drew his pistol out of the snow pile and killed the mongrel with a shot through its eye. He stood up and swept his cane in one hand and held his pistol in the other. He started up the hill and turned around. Garth was hitting a balvarine with fireballs, his phantom blades circling his head like a halo. But he didn't see Page or Ben. It was no matter, as long as Garth didn't die, he didn't care.

"Garth!" Reaver yelled. The man looked up momentarily before catching one in a vortex, "Come quickly!" Garth blasted another balvarine with his fireball, and then ran up to where Reaver was.

"I can get them all if you give me a little cover."

"Gladly!" Reaver said, drawing his pistol again and firing at the balvarines. Two fell back into the snow, but stood up again moments later.

"Doesn't anything kill these damned things?" Reaver yelled, firing again. Garth was standing beside him, fire in one hand, the flames so bright they were blue, and a small tornado in the other. He was creating a powerful spell, whatever it was.

"I suppose," Reaver said, almost sighing, "I'll have to kill these things the hard way." Reaver holstered his pistol and grabbed his cane. As a balvarine got close to the heroes, Reaver drew a sword from the walking stick and stabbed it in its mouth, driving the weapon straight through its brain.

"Goodbye!" Reaver kicked the creature and it fell to the ground. He spun around quickly and hit another balvarine with a hilt of the cane then stabbed it in the head. The monster roared before hitting the ground.

"I made a deal with your people once. Why can't you-all be more agreeable, like you were then?" Reaver said as he sheathed the sword quickly and drew his pistol in one fluid motion, killing a balvarine with a few well-placed shots.

"Anytime now Garth…" Reaver said as he took aim at another balvarine. However, this was the white balvarine, which roared violently at the site of Reaver.

"Hur…ah!" Garth grunted. Reaver was knocked to the ground as the blizzard resisted Garth's control. It was subdued moments later and formed into a tornado which sucked all the visible balvarines into it.

"Gr…ah!" Garth charged drew back his left hand and launched with a fireball into the snowy twister. The swirling vortex burst into flames, exploding each of the flying balvarines respectively. The burning corpses were strewn across the deep snow, leaving a destructive look in the landscape. Garth turned to Reaver, who was smiling brightly.

"I've missed you magical fingers." Reaver said, not really hiding a suggestive tone.

"You've still got something to prove before you'll receive a compliment."

"Well, then, shall we be going?" One of the balvarines, partially flaming, ran towards the two. Reaver and Garth only turned around in time to hear the rifle shot. They watched the creature die a flaming death, then looked back to find Ben standing next to Page. It was Page, however, who was holding up her gun.

"I can't believe I just saved Reaver's life. First I asked the Queen to save the tyrant Logan, then accepted the Queen's stupid decision to drain the Bowerstone lake. And now I'm saving the most hated man in Albion…" Page frowned and shook her head. Reaver smiled widely and holstered his pistol.

"Page, you'll find me much more agreeable once you really get to know me. With that in mind . . . your bedroom or mine?" Reaver said. Page smacked her forehead and turned around.

"I give up! Kill him now Garth!" Page looked up the find the white balvarine, with three bloody holes in its head. It roared and threw Page aside with a slash, then ran at Reaver. The immortal drew his sword from the cane and struck the creature across its face. It fell to the side but scratched Reaver's arm in the process.

"Ah!" Reaver swung his sword masterfully and stabbed the creature in the ground. As it tried to rise it was suddenly electrified. The thing let out one last roar before it finally died. Reaver looked at Garth, smiling widely.

"Now Garth, I don't want to owe you."

"Oh, don't worry. You've got quite a bit of distance to make up before you don't owe me," Garth said with a sigh. He folded his arms and nodded to Page, who was struggling to stand, "My vortex will be evaporating soon. The storm will return in moments. We must hurry." Reaver only then noticed that the blizzard had turned into a gentle snow, and all wind was being sucked behind them.

"Indeed." Reaver went to Page and pushed Ben Finn aside. He hoisted his former mortal enemy onto his shoulder as if she was a sack of vegetables.

"What are you doing?" Ben asked. Reaver turned around and stared him down.

"I don't like to owe anyone. Especially life debts. When she comes to in the Dweller camp, you make it clear to her that I saved her, and that we're even." Reaver was deadly serious in this statement, a tone he'd not used in a long time. He started back toward the wooden bridge, which was a short distance from the Dweller camp. Reaver heard Garth and Ben behind him as the winds started to howl again.

"That man never ceases to amaze me," Ben said with wonder.

"You aren't kidding," Garth answered taciturnly.