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Chapter 130 - Faded Light
🕑 Added 2022-06-30 00:00:08 +0000 UTCThey’d paid in advance for their rooms at the inn, so returned there first to put away their gear. Bud grinned like a donkey as they overly friendly barmaid welcomed him back, pointedly uninterested in the rest of them.
“Oh, before I forget, milord,” she said, battering her eyelids, “a letter arrived for you while you were away. From another knight I think.”
“Another knight?” He frowned, taking the letter from her. His frown deepened as he read. “Gods, my cousin is here in support of Sheercliff to represent House Blackthorne, along with others from my temple.”
“That’s good news, no?” Hump said. “Maybe we can work with them.”
“Maybe…” Bud said. “My father’s now happy.”
“You must have already guessed that.”
Bud nodded. “And apparently my fiancée is also in the city.” He groaned. “This is too much.”
Hump bit his lip, forcing himself not to laugh.
“You have a fiancée?” she asked, her face turning flat.
Bud sighed. “Indeed, I do.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders deflated. “I see. Well, all the best to you all. It’s good to see you back.”
She disappeared into the kitchens without looking back.
Bud stared after her in confusion. “Did I say something?”
Hump just rolled his eyes at the blonde giant. “No, you’ve just got something gross on your face.”
“I do?” Bud asked, leaning over the bar to see his reflection in a pewter plate, wiping at his face with his glove.
“Other side,” Dylan added, then sighed. “Well now you’ve just made it worse!”
Hump barely suppressed a laugh as he headed to his room. Vivienne was unfortunately out, which left them to head to the Daston estate without her. He’d hoped to get her thoughts on the artifact he’d found first, but that would have to wait.
Something about the city had changed since they were away. People seemed to walk more quickly, sticking closer together and keeping an eye on alleys as they went. There were more guards on patrol, marching through the streets with an aggression to them that made Hump think they were looking for a fight. Six guards rushed past at one point, armour clanking as they shouted “Make way!” through the streets.
They passed a group of brown skinned Nileshi—a man and wife, and their three sons. They’d been sat on the stone ground, their backs against the wall, wrists shackled in chains as a squad of temple guards kept watch. Further down the alley, Hump spotted four more tearing apart a shop with no regard for their belongings. The man was begging for their livelihood, the woman barely holding back tears as she tried to keep her sons calm.
“Excuse me,” Bud said approaching the squad. “I’m a Robert of Blackthorne, sworn Knight of Kelisia. Could you tell me what’s going on here?”
Hump’s cheek twitched in frustration as Bud drew attention to them.
“Heretics, milord,” the man said. “Neighbours reported them after catching them in the middle of a pagan ritual. All sorts of nasty stuff inside.”
“What kind of stuff?” Hump asked, a little of his irritation slipping into his voice.
“The heretical kind,” he said, then turned back to Bud. “If you don’t mind, we need to keep people moving. Orders from above, milord.”
“Right,” Bud said, unsure of himself. “Well… carry on I suppose.”
The man gave a small nod in some vain gesture of respect. “You too, milord. Good day to you.”
“It’s a bloody witch hunt,” Hump growled as they left earshot.
“What do you mean?” Bud asked.
“Happens every time people start fearing warlocks in the area,” Hump said. “Suddenly everyone that worships different gods is a heretic.”
“They sounded pretty convinced,” Bud said. “He spoke of evidence.”
“Evidence.” Hump scoffed. “It looked like a spice shop. They probably found some strange smelling herbs or something. Trust me, the Pantheon lost one of their own, and now they’re lashing out. Best we just keep our heads down and get to Daston before someone catches me with this artifact.”
“I hope my master’s alright,” Dylan said.
“She’s a rank 5 wizard,” Hump said. “If she wasn’t, we’d have heard about it already.”
They took the carriageway to the upper city, passing through a second round of checks from the guards at the base. It was only their status as academy members that allowed them through at all. There were guards everywhere once they reached the top. A month ago, people had been relaxing in restaurants and enjoying the easy life, now the venues were deserted. Even the pilgrims way had been restricted for the day.
The guards at the Daston estate recognised them by name and escorted them inside. Just as they entered the main household, the double doors on the opposite side of the chamber were slammed open. A man stormed out, his face furious. He was shaved bald, and wore robes embroidered with a pair of wings attached to a sceptre through the centre on his chest—the sigil of Lady Light. He carried a metal staff, a golden eagle afixed at the head.
He didn’t even look their way as he strode out of the estate, a gathering of nobility, Chosen, and other people of importance watching from the dining hall on the other side of the doors. Their escort collected himself quickly and gestured to a side door.
“This way, if you don’t mind.”
He opened it, and the others went inside. Hump glanced back to where the meeting seemed to be finishing up. He spotted Vivienne inside, and Countess Daston stood at the door, saying her goodbyes as people departed, some looking far more displeased than others. A man talking to Vivienne caught Hump’s eye—tall and broad, and dressed in a black battle robe laced with silver runes. He carried a black staff with a clear crystal focus. Vivienne looked far from pleased to see him. The inquisitor from the Wizard’s Society perhaps?
The man suddenly turned his way and met his eyes. On instinct, Hump broke eye contact and headed through the door after the others. He clenched his jaw, cursing himself for being stupid. That was the most suspicious thing he could have done.
Inside, Bud was looking out the window, eyes filled with awe. “I think that’s Sir Roderick,” he said quietly. He was staring after the bald man.
“Who’s he?” Celaine asked.
“He’s in charge of the Pantheon here. A sixth circle Chosen of Lady Light.”
Hump recognised the name. “He’s the one that destroyed the Fellgreen Dungeon.”
Bud nodded.
“I wonder what had him so worked up,” Hump said.
“The priestess that was killed was one of Lady Light’s, wasn’t she?” Dylan said. “I imagine that would do it.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have come here.” Bud took a seat. “Justine is obviously busy with this. We might be causing problems.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Hump snapped. “We were a week’s ride from the city. She’ll be more than interested in warlock activity, especially after what happened here.”
Bud frowned. “Are you sure?”
Hump nodded. “Absolutely. And believe me, I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I wasn’t sure. She may be our benefactor right now, but such support can flicker out as easily as a flame, even if you are a Blackthorne. We must show we’re worth her effort.”
“You’re surprisingly knowledgeable about this,” Celaine said.
Hump sat down opposite Bud and stretched his legs beneath the long table. “Half the jobs my master took were from nobles. You learn pretty quickly what they value.”
They were brought refreshments while they waited, and it was a good half-hour later before Countess Daston arrived to speak with them, Vivienne and Marcela accompanying her.
“It’s good to see you all back well,” Daston said.
“Thank you, Lady—” Bud cleared his throat as she gave him a look. “Thank you, Justine. Sorry to come by unannounced, especially when you are already so busy.”
She smiled. “It’s certainly been a difficult morning. I understand it was urgent you speak with me.”
Hump took out the artifact from his pouch, laying the black stone ring on the table, the runes faintly visible. “We encountered a warlock on our bandit quest and she had this. After we heard the news… well, I thought you’d want to know sooner rather than later. I think it’s some sort of communication artifact but I was unable to figure out how it worked.”
Daston picked it up and inspected it. “Blessed Imira, this is what the Wizard’s Society were speaking of.”
“You’ve heard of it before?” Bud asked.
“Another was found,” she said. “I’m afraid to say your party was not the only one to encounter warlocks while questing. We lost two of our academy to them, and many more amongst the other factions. One of the parties put together by the Martials Company was able to defeat them and return with another of these artifacts, but they were only willing to share it with the Wizard’s Society.” She turned to Vivienne. “Now we can conduct our own investigation.”
“I’m guessing Sir Roderick didn’t much like that idea,” Hump said.
Countess Daston gave him a sly smile. “No, indeed he did not. The Wizard’s Society agreed to share their findings on the artifact but only if they were given access to the formation that the poor priestess was found within. I agreed, to which Roderick was far from pleased.”
“With this, do we still need to allow it?” Marcela asked. “Their demand was ridiculous.”
Daston paused then shook her head. “No. In fact, it would be best if word of this did not reach them.” She looked to them. “Can I count on your silence?”
Whatever angle she had, Hump could hardly disagree. The only thing he could think of was that she intended to do her own research on the artifact. It was certainly one way to check the Wizard’s Society were remaining truthful.
There was a knock at the door and they all went quiet.
“Enter,” Daston said.
A lanky man stepped inside. “Oh, forgive me for interrupting. We’re ready to depart, Vivienne, whenever you are.”
“Perfect timing, Graham.” Daston held up the artifact and his eyes widened.
“Is that?”
She nodded. “I’ll have it sent to your lab.”
“Fantastic news,” he said enthusiastically. “I’ll get on that as soon as we return.”
“Do you need me for anything more?” Vivienne asked her.
“No, please go. Thank you for assisting with this.”
“Of course,” Vivienne said.
“Marcela, would you go with them,” Daston asked. “Hopefully your presence will keep Roderick from making trouble.”
Marcela sighed. “I’m not sure it will work.”
“He’s soft on you,” she said. “Just do you best.”
Marcela glared at her but nodded.
“Hump, why don’t you tag along too,” Vivienne said. “And Celaine, it would be useful to have your eyes on this.”
Hump blinked. “Tag along to what? Who’s he?”
“Ah, I should introduce myself,” he stepped fully into the room. “I’m Graham Fitcher.”
“I’ve been assisting Graham in his research on other realms,” Vivienne added. “We suspect the recent warlock activity may be more closely linked to Fishers Lake and the dungeons than we first thought.”
“Linked how?” Hump asked.
“It seems the veil between realms has been getting weaker. Where it cracks, essence pours in. Sometimes, it’s enough to create a dungeon core. Other times, creatures on the other side pry the cracks open.”
“Thank you for doing this, Graham,” Daston said. “I know it’s not exactly your specialty.”
“Not at all, my lady,” he said. “It’s horrible what happened, and I’m more than happy to try and assist. We best hurry, otherwise the Society will beat us to it.”
“Yes, of course,” Vivienne said. “Dylan, we’ll catch up later.” She looked at Hump and Celaine. “You two, let’s go.”
“You still haven’t told us where we’re going,” Celaine said.
“I’m sure you’ve already heard, but a priestess was found dead this morning,” Vivienne said. “From what we’ve been told, she was sacrificed. Justine has asked us to inspect the formation.”
