Draith
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Chapter 31 - Frost Reavers
🕑 Added 2025-03-06 21:35:59 +0000 UTCAs we passed through the gates, a tension settled on my shoulders. One I hadn't felt in my entire time on Ro'an.
It's one I was familiar with though. Of being locked in a small space with a dangerous man. A man who you couldn't predict, but who could kill you with a single blow.
I hadn't missed the feeling.
The inside of the keep was full of life and warmth. There were only slivers of sky visible between the thick slats that served as roofing.
More than half the space within the walls was set up as dens for their mighty wolves. And when I saw how many wolves they kept, I had further doubts about taking them up on their hospitality. I could count over a dozen wolves other than the ones ridden by the welcoming party, and those were just the ones that were visible from where we entered.
At the center was the clear hub of human interaction, a tower of stone with windows that glowed with the familiar tint of fire-provided warmth. As soon as Calbern rolled us through the gate, two figures pulled it closed behind us, and the warmth of the courtyard seemed to increase even further.
Sarpit slid down from his wolf, patting it once before striding ahead to the tower.
One of his followers on the gray wolves waved us to follow them. We were led to an empty pen, and the rough woman instructed us in broken Elinder to leave our trophies and baggage there.
While reluctant to give up our ride, I was at least confident they wouldn't be able to steal it. Without Inertia to keep the Forge Heart compliant, it'd simply go into hibernation.
Or explode, if prodded too vigorously.
Before I joined them for the banquet, I revisited my spell loadout. Ever since encountering the serpent, I'd kept combat spells loaded into my second order slots. I currently had Create Ice and Lightning Bolt loaded. With a little bit of preparation, Create Ice could be used to create cover and Lightning Bolt… well, it spoke for itself.
My first order spell loadout remained the same as ever, with Eagle Eyes being the most valuable. Mana Draw had felt less useful the further we ventured, and before we stepped into the courtyard, I would've been tempted to swap it out for Shield. But the amount of water mana in the courtyard was refreshingly high.
It was still almost nothing compared to what Perth grew up with, but compared to the relative mana-desert we'd been traveling through the last week, it was like an oasis.
Which helped me relax. Inviting a Magus Dominus into a place thick with mana was never a good idea if you had hostile intentions. Of course, they might've been ignorant of that fact, but if they knew the previous Magus Dominus, I doubted it.
"They are a rough people, but they seem honorable enough, master Perth," Calbern said his hand resting on Fang's side as he swept his gaze around the courtyard.
"Inertia says they know the hunt. The cloaks they wear are of the fiercest predators of the eastern Peaks," Tresla said, pulling her cloak tighter around her.
"Good to know," I said while refreshing the petals on both the blasting rods before handing them to Calbern and Tresla. "We'll be good guests, and learn what we can. Hopefully, it'll be a peaceful night and we can be on our way in the morning."
Calbern inclined his head while adjusting his riding leathers and sliding the rod into a slot along his boot. Tresla just placed hers into the voluminous folds of her cloak.
And Inertia and I… well, we were our weapons. It felt nice not to have to rely on equipment to get things done.
The woman was still waiting outside, though she'd acquired a stone flagon from somewhere while we’d unpacked. She was sipping at the large container as though it were a simple mug, her eyes fixed on the central tower until she heard us.
Then she turned with a wide grin on her face, waving for us to follow.
Calbern and I did, but Inertia chose to stay with Fang. Which meant Tresla stayed with her. We were led into a long hall that ran the length of the tower. Along each side were long bays of coals over which roasted entire pigs. Not small ones either.
Strangely, the sight caused me to relax further.
"Ah, Magus Dominus Perth," Sarpit boomed out from where he sat on a stone bench near one of the cooking pits. There was a small stone table next to him, barely large enough for the slab of meat upon it. "Pull up a Lange and join me."
The unfamiliar word confused me even as I approached, before one of the red bearded men I'd seen outside set one of the small stone tables next to Sarpit, nodding to me once he'd done so.
Once I'd taken my seat the second red bearded man placed several heavy cuts of meat and a flagon of viscous blue liquid on the Lange.
"Eat, drink, speak of great deeds and terrible foes!" Sarpit cried out, gesturing to my plate as he grabbed a fistful of shredded meat from his own Lange and stuffed it into his mouth.
There wasn't so much as a spoon, so I studied the blue liquid instead. I could smell a sweetness to it, undercut by the familiar scent of alcohol.
That I could smell it without even drinking gave me a measure of its strength. I could probably use it as fuel to run a small engine. There was no way I could drink it.
Yet refusing meant possibly giving offense to our host. I started by taking a sampling of the meat for myself. While I did so, Calbern was sat down beside me at a Lange of his own. The meat was spiced with some sort of herb I'd never eaten before. It gave it a pleasant tang.
Once I had some meat in my stomach, I took a tiny sip of the blue liquid.
It was worse than I expected.
So much worse.
It wasn't enough that the initial flavor profile had a delightful berry taste. No, it also had a perfect burn. The way it sat at the back of my throat as the aftertaste shifted into something sweeter…
Oh, how I'd missed that burn.
When I caught myself taking another sip, I slammed the flagon down hard enough I almost sent it crashing to the floor.
Not again.
"A delight, is it not?"
"It's remarkable," I replied honestly, clenching my jaw as I fought not to take another sip. Not to drink it all in one go.
"It is good you appreciate it. The river valley only produces a hundred kegs of Riven wine a year. I'll have Barthin prepare one. A gift for our new neighbors!"
"This would make an excellent export. It has quite the unique flavor profile. I'm not sure I've ever had a beverage of such complexity before," Calbern said, taking another long draw. "And the alcohol content is deceptively high. I suggest you restrain yourself, master Perth."
"I'll do my best," I said, giving him a grateful smile for the way out. And the reminder I didn't need to drink to forget anymore.
"Nonsense! Can't trust a man who doesn't drink," Sarpit said, before spitting sideways into the long fire pit. "A full belly of Riven brings out the true man who hides beneath the snow!"
I didn't agree with his statement. But then, I'd gone down the hole once before. Climbing out had been hard enough the first time.
Still, it wasn't like I hadn't expected something like this eventually. There were always people like Sarpit. I’d always envied those who could drink without letting it take over their lives.
Thankfully, Access Storage combined with timely assistance from Calbern got me through the flagon without having to drink another drop, though I did spill a fair bit on my shirt.
And once Sarpit was fully into his own flagon, he was much less attentive to mine. He'd become rather insistent about hearing every last detail about our story to take down the serpent. That had then led into telling him about our entire journey from Aranor.
I'd only reached our arrival in Althon when a female hunter stormed into the hall, walking straight up to Sarpit and pushing him off the bench onto the stone floor.
Other than our area, no one in the hall even reacted. And then, Sarpit’s men only laughed as he struggled to sort himself out.
"Father! What are you doing drinking at a time like this? Has the last of your sense finally taken its leave?" the female hunter demanded, kicking him as he turned.
"Ah, Vaserra, light of my life, so good of you to join us," the large man said with a laugh, pushing to his knees. "It is late in the day, what should a hunter be doing if not drinking?"
"There are monsters hunting the sheep, father. If you will not deal with them, at least let me lead a hunting party in your place," Vaserra said, her braids rattling. She had several different bones woven in her brown hair, and her fur seemed to be of a higher quality than the others, having a lustrous sheen to it. The stitchwork was definitely nicer.
It was only as Sarpit stood that I realized how short Vaserra was. Five foot, perhaps a little taller, though not more than a couple inches. Next to the nearly seven foot Sarpit, she seemed tiny.
Yet it didn't show on her face.
"The sheep will be fine. They'll lose one or two lambs, but they're not defenceless. They have horns," Sarpit said, settling down on the bench once more.
"Tell me father, does it mean nothing to you that it is our duty to protect the sheep?" she asked, her finger prodding his chest.
I nearly took a sip of the blue beverage on instinct. I'd only ever seen family drama like this on TV or second hand, heard through motel drywall at two in the morning.
"Bah. Duty. We keep the skies clear and the vales prosperous. The sheep breed like nibblers. This is good for them. Keeps them from getting too unruly. Makes them appreciate their shepherds," Sarpit replied, waving her away. Then his eyes spun towards me. "Though perhaps the Magus Dominus might wish to test himself."
"If there are monsters nearby, they would threaten my domain," I said as Vaserra turned to look at me.
Her eyes flicked up and down, and a sneer formed on her lips. "What use have we for one so soft, father. He is an even messier drunk than you."
Despite my success at remaining sober, the remark cut deep.
"I believe you have besmeckled… besmoked… wronged, master Perth," Calbern said as he stood up behind me, swaying significantly more than I was used to. Maybe that warning hadn't been just to help me save face. "While he may have been a wastrel in his youth. A right pain the arse, really. Worse than a blight on the crotch, at times… I… what was I… ah, yes. While he used to be a complete disappointment, a bit of a blight, since he… since he accepted this most sacred of burdens on his shoulders, the young master has done nothing but pour his all into… into being the most diligump… delinquent. No, wait… uh… Best. Yes. He's worked to be the very best Magus Dominus he could be."
If I'd been the original Perth, the mixed message there might've been a bit offensive. Since I wasn't… well, I felt like absolute shit for not telling Calbern the truth.
"Another one father?" Vaserra asked, ignoring Calbern's, frankly heartwarming, outpouring of support for my character.
"Hey, question my character all you want, but Calbern is as loyal and honorable as they come," I said, standing up. "Excuse us for taking a moment to rest after a month traveling the high road."
Vaserra squinted, her eyes playing over my robes once more, lingering on my collar. A flicker of a smile played over her lips before it disappeared and she turned back to her father. "Fine. I will accept the Magus Dominus's help. But I will still lead the hunt, father."
It was Sarpit's turn to squint, though he hardly seemed to pick up on whatever his daughter had seen. His face split into a broad grin. "Excellent. You can go keep the sheep safe, then return with another fantastic tale! We shall drink to your success!"
He did exactly as he'd threatened, lifting his flagon and chugging several large gulps.
"We will talk. Outside," Vaserra said, her eyes flicking towards Calbern who was struggling to maintain his usual attentive stance before returning to me and giving me a nod.
Then she strode out of the room, with even the red bearded men stepping to the side quickly.
"My daughter!" Sarpit proclaimed with great cheer, though his voice turned somber as he continued, "More courage than wits, just like her mother. May Winter's Bite never claim her!"
"May Winter's Bite never claim her!" went up from several others within the hall.
"Well, if we're going hunting tomorrow, I think it'd be best we call it a night early," I said, attempting to support Calbern only to find the man was as dense as Inertia.
Still, I was able to steer him out as Sarpit and his companions started in on a raunchy song.
Managed to get him half way to the pen where the others were waiting before I was ambushed by Vaserra.
"You're not actually drunk, are you, outworlder?"
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Draith
Oops. Forgot to schedule. Sorry for the late release
