Edwin M. Griffiths
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The Newt and Demon - Book 4 Chapters 19,20,21
🕑 Added 2023-08-18 11:01:00 +0000 UTCChapter 19
Unholy Army
Theo flicked his wrist, sending a stone skipping across the harbor’s water. Ghostly ships flocked in, the way he always commanded them to, as Alex honked a happy honk. The sky above had been boiling, as though something rubbed against the edge of the Dreamwalk. Some unseen force that none of the members could get a sense for.
Theo skipped another stone. “Another day in this strange world.”
Those days had come like a procession. Marching forward against his protests. But the conflicted feelings had all but vanished. Between the Dreamwalk, an immaterial representation of a bond, and Tero’gal itself, he felt much better. The alchemist’s mind was finally stitched back together. Not how it was before, but something different. A blend of five elements that, with proper perspective, were easy enough to identify.
There was the old Theo from Earth. From that man’s many traits, the new version selected his determination and steely willpower. He left behind the cruelty and spite. A life soured by pointless service. The new Theo was there, too. Charitable beyond reason. He always the best in everyone. Pieces of Tresk now rested in his mind. Paranoia, vengeance, and a mind for subterfuge mixed to create a cocktail of difficult traits. The new version of himself picked at the vengeful part, leaving much behind.
Honk.
Then there were the pieces Alex brought. The young goose had a sense of wonder about the world that Theo couldn’t leave behind. Whether this was a reforging of his own will, or something that happened on an unconscious level, he couldn’t say. Then there was that last piece of himself. It was a mystery to him and he doubted others could have a better sense of where it came from.
A need for power. A phantom representation of something. Theo’s theory was that it was a lingering piece of Belgar, buried somewhere deep in his subconscious. Or the realm of Tero’gal itself, the Dreamwalk, his exposure to the manifested realms. The alchemist’s list wasn’t short, leaving him with more questions.
Theo skipped another stone, turning to regard Alex.
“Not that it matters.”
Honk.
“Are you brooding?” Tresk asked, appearing from nowhere.
“I’m thinking. Not brooding.”
“The difference?”
“Intent.”
Theo and Tresk had already created a plan for tomorrow. It was the day Fenian would arrive, if the gods could be trusted. The moment they spotted the extent of the trouble he brought, they’d duck into Tero’gal and examine it from their realm. There, they could form a better plan. Something that might actually work for the defense of the town.
“Check it out.” Tresk shifted the scene.
Tresk, Alex, and Theo were standing on the east-facing wall of Broken Tusk. They looked out at the field below, which now held the defensive rock. An imaginary portal opened on the far side of the river, revealing an army of ghostly figures. The scene froze before the imagined creatures proceeded forward.
“You’re missing something.” Theo added his prediction of events.
A black carriage appeared at the head of the formation, mounted by Fenian Feintleaf. The Elf, like the ghostly warriors, were frozen in place.
Tresk nodded, leaning over the side of the wall. She clucked her tongue a few times, tapping her foot impatiently. “Doesn’t matter what he brings. We’re looking at the same weaknesses.”
“How about this?” Theo shifted the scene, replacing the ghosts with a massive ball of fire.
“Well, then that ain’t our problem.” Tresk stepped the simulation forward a few paces. Fenian’s carriage was consumed by the blaze. She froze it again.
Theo’s intuition screamed against that possibility, though. It would be monsters, perhaps undead. Undead monsters? There was a connection between King Karasan and the undead. Uz’Xulven was clear, though. Fenian was being pursued. Over the Bridge of Shadows.
“I can’t put it together,” Theo said, drumming his fingers on the wall. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
“Let’s see. Recap time!” Tresk shouted, striking a pose. “Fenian stirred the undead, likely leading them to old sourpuss Karasan. Something something, Fenian arrives in the godly realms.”
“Pursued by the king?” Theo asked.
Tresk pointed her finger in the air, nodding. “Or forces adjacent to the king. Remember how the big bad cat daddy talked about cleaning house in the heavens?”
Theo cleared the scene below. He accessed his near-perfect memory. “Fan’glir, Zagmon, and the Eye.” A giant red Dronon, a floating eye of fire, and a generic Elf appeared below. Each stood behind Fenian’s carriage as though in pursuit.
“Cool. We got a bunch of gods and no idea how they play into this. Totally useful. Sorry. No, you’re missing the bigger picture. Shadow mommy has to let them over the Bridge, right?”
Theo groaned. “If you call the Queen of the Bridge of Shadows ‘shadow mommy’ again, I’m throwing myself into a volcano.”
Tresk nodded. “Noted. So, tactics. Big army, laser beams, fireballs from hell, or whatever comes out of the portal attacks. How do we respond? Standard Broken Tusk tactics. With a twist.”
“A twist?”
“The hard-asses from Gronro have been drilling sortie tactics.” Tresk cleared the scene, then generated a wall of armored fighters. They stood before the gates with shields and spears. Leveling them against nothing. “Fan out. Give Fenian space to bring his carriage in. Bam bam. Done.”
The ‘bam bam’ came as an approaching ghostly army. Tresk simulated Fenian’s run into the town, behind the walls. The group affected a fighting retreat, supported by imagined towers and defenders from the wall. More training for the warriors of Gronro-dir than anything reasonable. Theo shrugged, clearing the scene below again. He placed Fenian on the far side of his stone, then let a fireball loose from the bridge.
A shield sprung up around the stone, catching the rolling ball of flame before it could pass. A crack snaked its way down the length of the stone, nearly splitting it in half. But that was the point of the rock. Even if it fell away, eating one massive attack would be worth it.
“How close is dawn?” Theo asked, stretching his senses out. It was near.
“Yeah, let’s wake up and get some breakfast.”
Theo nodded his agreement. The Dreamwalk swirled around them, spinning out into nothing but a memory in moments. With no reaction to the transition, all members of the Tara’hek rose from their beds. The sun hadn’t risen yet, leaving them in the darkened room attached to the lab. Stretching to work out a knot in his back, the alchemist rose to greet the day.
“I’ve been thinking of buying a mansion.”
“Really? A big house? Do we need a big house?”
Theo adjusted his robes and the silly hat on his head. He dropped some [Cleansing Scrub] on himself, Tresk, and Alex. He rolled his shoulders, finally getting the knot out from his back. “Not sure that we need it.”
“But you want it.” Tresk laughed, slapping a hand on his back.
Theo sent his mind out to his working golems for a moment, following Tresk down the stairs. The constructs were doing their job, just as instructed. They were great. Especially since he got distracted so often. At this rate, he’d need more [Dimensional Storage Crates] outside to hold the excess reagents. He also had piles of the waxy leaves to decompose into salt, a task he’d put off for a long time.
Tresk threw the front door open, but it smacked against something. Someone yelped and fell back, tumbling on the ground. The Marshling rushed over, cursing under her breath. “You okay, dude?”
An Elven man rubbed his forehead. Even in the darkness of the pre-dawn light, Theo could see the welt forming on his head. He came to stand next to the man, feeding him a [Healing Pill].
“Thanks,” the Elf said, accepting a helping hand to rise to his feet. “Came to rouse the squad commanders. Aarok is assembling the squads early. Full patrols all day.”
Tresk groaned. “Can I get breakfast first?”
“He’s providing rations.”
Tresk glared at the Elf for some time. She turned to Theo. “Get me a plate and some tea. Put it in the shared inventory.”
Theo laughed, placing a comforting hand on his companion’s shoulder. “I’ll put two in there.”
“Your presence has been requested at the Guildhall, Archduke,” the Elf said, bowing. “Although Captain Thane said it wasn’t as urgent as assembling the squads.”
“Captain Thane,” Tresk said, snorting a laugh. “Just call him Aarok.”
“He needs a better title. Grand Commander. Supreme Commander. General?”
The Elf shrugged. “Is that all… sir?”
“Yeah, you can go.”
Tresk grumbled, then took a long breath. “Send me a message before you run to Tero’gal. We’ll time it so we can spend the most time as possible in the realm.”
“Alright. Good luck.”
Tresk disappeared without saying another word. Theo wondered about what the system considered shadows with her [Shadowdancer] abilities. He worked his way through the town, finding the door to the Marsh Wolf Tavern closed. A few knocks saw a confused server opening up, looking the alchemist up and down.
“Archduke?”
“Uh. I need food.”
“Well, we’re not open… oh,” the worker turned around as Xam shouted.
“Let him in, you fool!”
“Guess that’s sorted.”
Theo and Alex found their booth on the second floor. Moss tea came out in moments. The alchemist stored one cup in his shared inventory, although he had to clear out some junk to make room. He placed half of a teakettle on Tresk’s empty chair, and several lengths of frayed rope on the ground. When the food he’d ordered came out, he stored two plates in the shared inventory for his companion.
The alchemist checked his interfaces, finding a new conversation with Alran.
Alran: This isn’t overstepping my bounds, is it? I’m your spymaster, aren’t I? I have rumblings from afar about your friend Fenian.
Theo: Go on.
Alran: I knew you’d be receptive ;)
Alran: I have an informant in a Veostian cult. They follow Fan’glir, but not in the traditional way. Anyway, there’s word of a massive fight in the heavenly realms.
Theo: I figured as much. How does Fenian play into this?
Alran: I think he’s helping fight the war. Well, he’s fighting in it. Their got sent stories of a black and blue hurricane of death. Twin-hands of Uz’Xulven and Parantheir.
Theo stopped picking at his food for a moment. He sipped his tea and nodded to himself as Alex honked happily. This was some nonsense of the highest order. If Fenian was fighting with godly figures, or at least their forces in their realms, that was some serious power. But as the alchemist had learned, power often came at a cost.
Theo: You’re aware we’re expecting him today, aren’t you?
Alran: I am. I don’t have the details, but I believe he retreated from whatever he was doing.
Theo: And how do you know? If you don’t mind my asking, spymaster.
Alran: Not at all. I have another informant in an Ulvoqor cult. They’re documenting things the best they can. From what I’ve heard, it seems like he was hunting for someone. Someone that didn’t belong in the heavens, just like him.
Theo: Thank you Alran. We’re expecting an attack today. Please mind your southern border, and let us know if you need reinforcements.
Alran: Understood. I’m attending to… bussiness ;) ;) ;) in Rivers today. Need to take out some garbage. If you get my meaning ;)
Theo: Thank you, Alran. I’ll keep you posted.
Whatever that meant. Theo updated Grot on the situation. The Dwarf didn’t care. He just wanted more supplies for his war effort. The grouchy bastard would need to get in contact with the administrators if he wanted to do that. The new [Zorp] ability might help with that, though. Finishing his meal, the alchemist paid his server. Xam gave him the food for free, but that wouldn’t stop him from throwing a few coins for the effort.
Honk!
Theo understood a bit of that honk. Alex had felt something shiver in the material of space, as though something was rubbing against reality. The more time he spent in Tero’gal, the better his sense for the dimensional disturbances got. His mind drifted as he found his way to Aarok’s guildhall. He was ushered into a meeting. Alise, Gwyn, Aarok, and Luras were all in attendance.
The conversation was single-minded. On a god’s warning, they prepared for Fenian’s arrival. None took it lightly, since the warning had been so grave. Gwyn had prepared a triage of potions for the Elf, including those intended to grow limbs back. Alise focused her efforts on spreading the word to citizens. Luras and Aarok were organizing the troops.
Theo fed them what theories he had, including his plan to hide in his realm when the attack came.
“Once there, I have 12 hours to your 5 minutes. I won’t take the entire time, but I’ll be able to form a plan if anything unexpected happens.” Theo shuffled through the papers that Alise had provided. She did a good job assembling troop quantities, types, and so on. There was also a contingency for a long-term siege. “I’ll have access to my alchemy equipment so I can make whatever potions we need.”
The group saw that as a good thing, but didn’t want to incorporate it into their plan. There might have been moments to respond, not minutes. The next time the conversation died down, Theo inserted himself again.
“Any updates on Xol’sa?”
“He’s recovering,” Alise said, a smile lingering on her face. “The last report Zarali gave me was great. He’s working on standing and walking.”
Theo leaned back in his chair, nodding with approval. He let out a sigh of relief, and tension left his body. The [Reforge Soul] potion he’d brewed was a miracle. The window to craft the potion was extremely limited. It was unlike any other potion he’d made, and the ingredient to create it was the rarest thing he’d found. The alchemist fell out of his thoughts. His will stretched as far as he could send it, sensing something strange in the distance. But it was familiar.
Honk!
“Agreed.” Theo felt what Alex was saying, even if she could only honk her thoughts. Space had torn open somewhere, but it didn’t feel like the bridge. The alchemist waved away the concerned looks from those gathered in the war room. “That’ll be Xol’sa’s portal.”
Theo rose from his seat, affecting a shallow bow. “Message me if you need me. I really need to check up on him.”
Alise was the most reluctant to let Theo go from the meeting. Aarok eased her fears, sending him off to check on his wizard friend. The alchemist picked up his pace as he trotted to the town’s center. The shimmering pane of glass rested near the monolith, pulsing with uncertain power. Without waiting for an invitation, he plunged through.
A sensation like cold water rushing over his back flooded through his mind. The alchemist was standing in the wizard’s tower in an instant, spotting Xol’sa resting on a chair. He heaved breath, sweat forming in thick beads on his brow.
“Couldn’t resist… could you… alchemist,” Xol’sa said, offering him a faint smile.
Zarali stood nearby, a sheepish grin on her face. “He refused to rest. Said the portal was more important than his life.”
Alex popped through the portal moments later, honking and flicking her tail feathers back and forth. She honked several times before approaching the Elf, nipping at his robes. Xol’sa placed a shaking hand on her, stroking with the direction of her feathers.
“You’re alive.” Theo could not keep the smile from spreading across his face.
“Leave it to you… Theo.”
“Leave it to you to find a cure in such a short time,” Zarali said. “No, darling. He had help.”
Theo nodded. “You’re lucky I’m rubbing elbows with gods, Xol’sa.”
“Thank… you.”
But that was all the Elf could do before his head tilted back, his breath coming in exhausted gasps. Zarali moved toward him, propping his head forward with a pillow. She beckoned Theo to follow her up the stairs, leaving Alex behind to keep the man company.
Zarali and Theo looked out over the swamp below. Several monsters ran around, but there were no adventurers in sight. Even in the early light of dawn, they could spot creatures moving around. Xol’sa glowing wards rested at regular intervals, lighting up the marsh.
“Can’t thank you enough, Theo.”
“No thanks required. I got him into that mess.”
Zarali took Theo’s hand in her own and squeezed. “Doesn’t mean I can’t thank you, brother.”
“I’ll say this, Zarali.” The moment Theo started saying that, he wanted to hold back. But she wasn’t a woman who enjoyed when one withheld information. The alchemist’s intuition told him the potion would do more than just heal the wizard’s scars. He was gaining a better understanding of what Xol’sa was. “That potion will take its time. But he won’t be the same.”
Zarali cast Theo a concerned look. “What do you mean? Is he crippled for life? Damaged?”
Theo thought about how to respond for a long moment. He stared off into the swamp. Xol’sa wasn’t from this world. The only thing holding him together was his [Planar Mage’s Core]. There was something wrong with his soul. An incompatibility with this world. This was a theory that had been bubbling up in the alchemist’s mind for a while.
“Xol’sa’s soul is not compatible with this world. The description of the [Reforge Soul] potion is clear. It removes all impurities, imperfections, and scars…”
“Imperfections,” Zarali said, blinking rapidly. “Theo, do you think…”
In the distance, a bell clattered rapidly. Theo felt a strange sense of danger drive a spike through his heart. Reality was being torn apart. He quaffed a [Dexterity Potion] modified with [Elemental Wind] and dashed down the stairs and through the portal before Aarok’s warning even came up.
[Aarok]: This is NOT a test! Everyone to your squads. We’ve got company.
Chapter 20
Fenian’s Return
Theo stood with Tresk and Alex on the east-facing wall of Broken Tusk. Across the bridge, a portal shimmered with an impenetrable black sheen. The group stood ready to drop into Tero’gal the moment they spotted what chased Fenian. Aarok shouted orders to his commanders, casting an annoyed look at the Marshling. Someone had to pick up the slack of Tresk’s stealther squad, leaving them on their own until she returned from their realm.
“I bet five gold that we get a giant fire monster,” Tresk said, placing the coins on the wall’s edge.
Theo drummed his fingers on the wall’s edge. His intuition said it was a force of something, likely adjacent to undead. He played the series of events out in his mind. Fenian wanted to lure Karasan out. They ended up either on the bridge, or another god’s realm. There were gaps in his knowledge of the events, but it ended in a deadly chase across the Bridge.
The alchemist narrowed his eyes on the portal. It shivered.
“Are ghosts a thing here?”
“Yeah.”
“Ten gold on ghosts.”
Aarok slapped a single gold coin onto the wall, glaring at the pair. “One gold to shut you up.”
A force of power rolled across the open space between the river and the walls. Dust fell from the mortar. Every defender on the wall was pushed back by the force of the energy, steadying themselves and locking eyes on the portal.
Theo’s stomach twisted into knots as a black carriage burst from the opening. Nausea spread through his body when he saw Fenian riding atop. The man was beaten bloody, his left arm and leg severed and bleeding freely. He held one silver-blue rapier in his remaining hand, swatting arcs of flaming power behind his carriage.
The adventurers brave enough to perform a sortie were already out of the gates, lined up in their gleaming armor. They formed a wall of shields and spears, ready to catch whatever came forth. Tresk gripped Theo’s hand tightly, sending waves of confident comfort into his heart. Alex honked with reassurance.
Spectral figures flooded behind Fenian, moving in a tide. Tresk, Alex, and Theo fell into Tero’gal the moment they appeared.
Theo popped his shoes off the moment he landed in his realm, letting out a heavy breath. The reassurance of his realm washed over him, even after the icy portal sprung up near the field of wheat. Benton stepped forth, waving with excitement.
“What a twist!” he shouted.
Theo moved to the cool water of the stream, sitting on the edge and soaking his feet. Tresk came to join them. They summoned an image of Broken Tusk’s defense in the sky below.
“What are those, Benton?” Theo asked, gesturing to the field of green figures pouring from the portal.
“Lost souls. Wraiths.” Benton fell down near the water’s edge, gazing off into the shifting image formed in the sky. “Folks that had nowhere to go when they died. “Looks like someone set them on that Elf without an arm or a leg.”
The image below moved in slow-motion. The wraiths boiled over the landscape. Those in the front were floating, or jumping, over the river rather than using the bridge. There were hundreds of them already. More poured through the portal by the moment.
Theo withdrew an unmodified [Hallow Ground Potion] from his inventory and inspected it. The description was clear. It would work on ghosts. He couldn’t stop his mind from spinning out the events that led him here. Fenian created the means for him to produce these potions in mass quantities. Now Fenian needed help against the wraiths.
“Is that irony, or…” Theo asked, trailing off.
“Coincidence?” Tresk laughed. “No, that’s Fenian being himself.”
“That’s a lot of ghosts,” Benton said with a nervous chuckle. “Bet he was traipsing realms he didn’t belong in.”
“Is that a thing?” Theo asked.
“Yeah. You don’t mess with another god’s realm. Or ya get the ghosts,” Benton said. “I’m guessing there. Never tried it myself.”
“Cool.” Theo watched the ghosts moving across the field for a few minutes. Everyone gathered was content enough to just watch and think. Alex played in the water, honking and shooting small balls of fire into the air. “How long do you think we have, Tresk? Two hours?”
“Yeah. Maybe three.”
“Could you prepare these [Swamp Truffles],” Theo said, removing a massive pile of the things from his inventory. Tresk nodded, scooping them up and moving off to the new fancy stills. The alchemist withdrew parchment from his inventory, along with some of his crude bone carvings.
“I see where this is going,” Benton said, rubbing his hands together. “And I like it.”
Theo smiled without looking up. He focused on his [Toru’aun Mage’s Core] and reviewed the spells he’d created. Since he had discovered the [Detect Enemy] trigger for his wards, he’d been itching for a way to use them. The alchemist sketched out a concept for his new spell, detailing a group of Dronon fighting against the undead. The spell had no potency, and wouldn’t bind to anything until he unlocked the property as a ward effect.
“Got some drips,” Tresk said, holding a glass vial under the output of one still.
If anyone other than Tresk were to handle that essence, they would explode. Theo took the container, replacing it with one from his inventory. He focused on the [Hallow Ground] essence within, then sent it into a plume of acrid smoke with his [Reagent Deconstruction] ability. The primal essence it left behind glowed white, echoing with the power to repel the undead. He licked his finger, dipped it in the vial, then pressed it to his tongue.
Knowledge flooded through Theo, adding the [Hallow Ground] effect to his [Toru’aun Mage’s Core]. “Benton,” he said, turning to regard the bear god. “Mind making some carvings for me?”
Benton rubbed his hands together, withdrawing a knife and lengths of ivory from nowhere. “It would be a pleasure.”
Theo and Tresk watched the stills while they carved. She came over after they had created several gleaming statues, wanting to try her hand at the craft. The Marshling was better than Theo starting out, but she was impatient. She was obsessed with getting the shape of the frog-like frogopus into the ivory, but it was too complex.
Benton worked masterfully. He created likenesses of Fenian, Theo, Tresk, and even himself. He carved figures of various creatures, ornate rods with decorative engravings, and even a bracelet. Theo broke off after a while, rewriting his spell to work with the [Hallow Ground] property. During the process, they worked the stills and created [Hallow Ground Potions] with the most useful modifiers. That came down to brewing almost every potion with the [Aerosolize] modifier to create a zone of denial for the approaching wraiths.
In the mortal realm, the wraiths were approaching the gates. Fenian had sent his cart flying through the front gates and the warriors were moving into position to battle against a foe they couldn’t beat. Theo inspected his new ward before they moved forward.
[Lesser Hallow Ground]
[Advanced Ward]
Creates a reactive field of [Hallow Ground]. Field only activates when enemies are banished when within range.
Trigger:
Detect Enemy
Duration:
1 day.
Theo and Tresk split the ivory idols, taking 25 each. They also split the finished potions between them, the Marshling taking most of them. The alchemist would focus on keeping the gate clear of ghosts while she ran off to distribute the potions and seed the land with ivory.
“I wonder if you could have mounted this defense without your realm,” Benton said, groaning as he rose to his feet.
“I had a few [Hallow Ground] potions in my inventory. The towers are hitting the ghosts, so it might have worked.” Theo held an ivory figure of himself in his palm.
Something about the scrimshaw spoke to him. It was as though the material took the effects especially well. He clutched the figure in his palm and nodded to the bear god. “Thanks for the help. I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, happy to help,” Benton said, clapping a hand on Theo’s shoulder. “I’m rooting for ya.”
Theo held a figure in one hand and a potion in the other. He nodded to Tresk. Alex honked.
Tero’gal faded around them. While passing through the realms, Theo saw the Bridge this time. It was filled with glowing green wraiths. Packed so bad they were falling over the edge, into the abyss below. He thought he heard a voice cry out in the distance, one belonging to Uz’Xulven, but it was faint. A flash of bright white, and a blink before he was standing back on the battlements.
Aarok was shouting with panic, the adventurers scrambling to get out of the way of the incoming ghosts. Theo tossed a potion at his feet, then the ivory idol down to the road below. The potion exploded into white fog, covering the battlement fifty paces in both directions. A bubble of pure light burst from the ground below, forming in a dome roughly half the size of the potion below. It was still enough to cover the entire entrance of the gatehouse.
A chorus of shrieks rose from the ghosts below. Tresk was already tossing potions and figures everywhere, blanketing the area in thick fog and shimmering bubbles. She went north, so Theo headed south, dropping potions and wards as he went. He successfully covered the section of the wall where the ghosts impacted, but some had made it through.
The sounds of a strange battle issued from within the town. Steel ringing off against cobbles and shouts of adventurers rose. Aarok found Theo gazing back into the town, slapping a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.
“Take these,” Theo said, shoving several figures and potions into the man’s hand. “Replace the others if they fade.”
The alchemist jumped from the wall before the commander could respond. He broke into a sprint, finding areas where the ghosts were attacking his citizens. They didn’t fight with swords and shields. They drained life away from people, hovering over them like the specters they were. Sucking health in streams of glistening red mist. Theo banished a group of the foul green wraiths, sending them back to whatever realm they clung to.
A wave of power rolled over Theo, sending him falling to his ass on the hard cobbles. He spotted Zarali in the distance, holding a staff high and chanting something. Every time she slammed her glowing purple staff against the ground, another wave of energy came forth. Each pulse sent the ghosts spinning off, phasing through buildings and scattering away. Following close behind was Xol’sa, clutching his side and wincing with every step.
“We need to get him to the battlements,” Zarali said.
Theo popped a [Strength Potion] imbued with [Refined Elemental Fire]. His muscles surged with power as he scooped the wizard up as though he were a baby. The alchemist darted across the town, taking the steps of the battlements two at a time. He set Xol’sa down gingerly, steadying the man as he looked off at the fields of ghosts. The Elf was glassy eyed, wobbling on the spot.
“The portal won’t close on its own,” Xol’sa said, reaching a hand out. He struggled against an invisible force. His hand wouldn’t close.
Theo placed a ward at their feet, then watched as it sprung up immediately. A gout of ghosts from those surging into the town washed up, slamming against the barrier and vanishing. The alchemist withdrew an [Intelligence Potion] imbued with [Refined Elemental Lightning], tilted Xol’sa’s head back, and forced it down his throat.
The Elf gasped, choked, then straightened. Xol’sa reached out again. Ribbons of blue energy whipped off his body, burning the wall where they lashed. Space warped around him as he channeled a spell. The portal in the distance quaked, rumbling the ground for miles around. Theo almost lost his balance as he stood with his friend, steading both himself and the wizard.
Xol’sa crushed the portal into nothingness. His hand snapped closed, removing the portal from the far side of the bridge. Then the Elf collapsed, caught by Theo as he fell. Zarali was ascending the steps, stumbling as she came up but otherwise unhurt. She slammed her staff into the ground again, sending another wave of banishment outward. Wraiths scattered the wake of the spell.
“He did it,” Zarali said, a tone of hope in her voice.
“Now we just need to kill all the ghosts,” Theo said.
The alchemist opened his administration interface, finding the tactical map. Aarok was always good about drawing on it. He watched as it updated in real time. Drawings on the image of the town where the ghosts were and what places needed reinforcement. Tresk had distributed the potions, giving way to more clouds of anti-undead magic that sent the wraiths packing.
Theo found a chat log about Fenian’s condition, sending his heart thumping hard in his chest. It was bad. The alchemist overrode some of Aarok’s commands, ordering a squad to escort Xol’sa somewhere safe. They arrived in moments, four members of a Gronro squad. They saluted, and happily took some [Hallow Ground Potions] before running off.
“Fenian needs your healing magic,” Theo said, grabbing Zarali by the arm and leading her away.
She had spaced out, watching as the squad took care of Xol’sa. Theo knew she wanted to be with her betrothed, but he would be fine. As long as those badasses from Gronro were with him, he was fine.
Fenian was being treated in the town hall. When Theo and Zarali burst through the door, they found citizens huddled in fear. He placed wards throughout the place, then shot up the stairs with his sister. Zan’kir’s blades whispered from their sheaths when the alchemist entered the room. He relaxed in an instant. Back to working on the Elf.
Fenian looked horrible. Missing an arm and a leg was the least of his problems. The Elf’s entire body was covered in endless cuts and punctures. Zan’kir fed him another [Healing Potion], shaking his head. Zarali came to his side, tossing her staff away and pressing both her hands into his chest. When she spoke next, her voice came as a distant thing. As though she were talking in an adjacent room.
“Lord Drogramath. Hear my prayer. Fulfill your oath to your faithful. Save this man.”
The prayer was simple. Not much fluff compared to how she went on about the purple bastard. But Theo’s thoughts of doubt fell away in a moment. Zarali’s back arched as her hands flung to the side. She let out a scream of pain, then drove both of her palms back into Fenian’s chest. The Elf let out a grunt of pain, wiggled a little, then went silent again. The priestess collapsed to the side in a heap.
“What was that?” Zan’kir said, casting his eyes around the room.
The air stung with magical power. Theo knew the flavor of it all too well. The stink of a god who’d made themselves known on the mortal plane. He checked Zarali, propping her head up on a bit of [Starbristle Flax Cloth] from his inventory, then turned his attention to Fenian.
“He’s alive,” Theo said, watching as the man’s wounds closed. The arm and the leg were still gone, but he wasn’t bleeding anymore.
“Only just,” Zan’kir said, pressing his palm into the Elf’s forehead. “I think Drogramath simply increased the effectiveness of your potions. I’d forced him to drink enough regeneration potions to heal anything.”
Theo didn’t want to, but he looked at Fenian’s stumps. The flesh had healed over as though the wounds were old. Like the scars forming on his chest, they were cured.
“This is going to suck,” Theo said, withdrawing his [Regenerative Potion] from his inventory. The potion he’d prepared for when Fenian returned. He dipped his fingers into the sticky salve, then spread it across the Elf’s stumps. “Damn, sorry. Better to start this now.”
Theo monitored the fight through his tactical map as Zan’kir helped him undress Fenian. The Khahari fighter ran off to grab a bed, returning shortly after the alchemist worked a robe over the Elf’s head. The pile of ruined cloth that were his fancy clothes sat to the side, caked with blood, green ichor, and mud.
Tresk kept Theo informed about the fight. They had more than enough [Hallow Ground Potions] to keep the undead at bay, but many had retreated after the portal vanished. Alise was already coordinating with Gronro to send potions down to Rivers and Daub. Everyone expected the worst, even as the battle in Broken Tusk calmed.
Zarali woke when the fight was nearly over, jolting into a seated position. She screamed. “Where is he?”
Theo didn’t need prodding, he knew who she was talking about. He’d been monitoring the list of injured people. “First floor of this building. Our infirmary, apparently.”
Zarali bolted to her feet, and fled the room. Theo and Zan’kir both fell onto their backs, breathing sighs of relief. Fenian’s breaths came slow and steady as though he were in a deep sleep. When the alchemist felt sure enough that the fight was over, he felt the Khahari to care for the Elf.
Aarok stood on the east-facing wall of the town. He gazed off into the distance, a strange smile on his face. Theo edged closer, placing a comforting hand on the commander’s shoulder.
“You alright?”
“Me? I’m fine,” Aarok said, laughing. He gestured to the pile of gold coins on the wall. It hadn’t been disturbed from its spot. “Looks like you won the pot.”
Chapter 21
Wraith Cleanup
Theo smacked the rump of an enchanted Karatan. One of Azrug’s many carts barreled through the eastern gate, tearing a path over the newly built road toward Rivers. They had called for aid shortly after the wraiths disappeared from the gates. The administration of the town determined this was the fastest way to get them the potions they needed to defend their town.
Tresk gave constant reports through the military administration interface about wraith locations. More worrying than the lingering ghosts was a message Theo had received from Alise. Fenian insisted on seeing him and refused to share information with anyone by the recently minted Archduke of the alliance.
Alex’s feet slapped over the cobbles as she joined him, headed for the town hall.
“We need a hospital.” Theo entered the town hall, his eyes casting over the wounded held there. Whatever the ghosts did to them, it was deeper than normal surface wounds. “A big one.”
Fenian had his own room on the second floor. It had a decent view of the fields behind both the town hall and the Adventurer’s Guild. A flash of white shone from the western battlements. Another potion thrown to drive off the damned ghosts.
Fenian groaned, rubbing at his stumps. He didn’t lift his head from the bed. His eyes were locked on the ceiling. “Theo… that was close.”
“Close? No shit,” Theo scoffed, approaching the Elf’s bed.
Ribbons of invisible energy sloughed off the man, as though he were a snake shedding skin. Theo felt the sting of them in the air. The foul taint of some far-off realm. Something that was certainly attracting the wraiths. The alchemist placed a [Hallow Ground] carving under the cot, then knelt near his friend.
“Start by telling me why and how you traversed the realms,” Theo said.
Fenian finally turned to look at Theo. His face was still battered, one eye almost swollen shut. They were wounds too grave for the potions to heal immediately. “I didn’t expect Karasan to flee so far. Let alone into a dead realm.”
“Which dead realm?” Theo asked.
Fenian shivered, shaking his head. His face paled, going slightly green. “I’d rather not say. Oh, but the gears are turning in your head. I can see them. Fine. Balkor’s realm.”
“The ‘betrayer’ in ‘Balkor’s Betrayal’?” Theo asked. He thought about it for a moment before shrugging. “Why not. What happens when a god is killed?”
“Killed?” Fenian asked, groaning into a seated position. He collapsed moments later. “You don’t kill a god. Not entirely.”
“Fine. How did Karasan flee into the godly realms?”
“He’s an ascendant. Naturally. And he has something I need,” Fenian said.
Theo let the silence set in between them. This had to do with Khahar, he was certain about that. Yuri was always known for his big plans, even back in the day. Things that everyone was certain would never work. Somehow, he always pulled them off. Whether it was spying missions, combat operations, or just stupid dice games with foreign spies, he always got the job done.
The alchemist felt something. As though someone were standing right behind him. He turned, finding no one. It was a familiar sensation. The attention of a god. Theo took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. He could feel the edges of those realms. They scraped together here, too many to count. Too much attention from too many gods.
“Let’s try… this,” Theo said.
The dust in the corners of the room fell in cascading sheets as the room shook. Theo’s force of will exploded outward, smashing against all those spying realms. Tero’gal rose like a tiger from the reeds, battering the other realms away in an instant. The invisible strands of power fell away from Fenian and he gasped a breath. Angry cries issued through the ether. Over the Bridge and into the alchemist’s mind.
Too bad.
“You need to teach me that trick,” Fenian said, breathing easy now.
“Where is Uz’Xulven and Parantheir to protect you?” Theo asked. “What’s the point of being their champion if they won’t help you?”
“They’re busy. Spent some of their power helping me through the realms,” Fenian said. His voice came in that familiar cadence once again. Almost sing-song and too self-assured. “Since you’ve dropped a privacy field, you’ll be happy to know that Khahar did the deed. Fan’glir, Zagmon, and the Eye are all dead. As dead as they can be. Their realms are in ruin and he lords over the ashes as the Arbiter.”
“What’s the implications of being an Arbiter?”
“The gods were always meant to have a watcher. But they changed the rules after the game had started. Your friend Yuri has set things straight, though. Mostly. There’s a few more pieces to put together.”
“What does it mean that I have my realm? Not just a realm represented in the mortal plane, but a real realm?” Theo asked.
“Part of the design. A plan that spans eons, I think. I’m just uncovering the outer bits of that plan. Pieces from what I can put together. From what Khahar told me, you know. After his ascension.” Fenian paused as though he were collecting his thoughts. Theo could sense this was something he’d kept secret for a long time. “Not like I can go anywhere. Not until my limbs regrow. That lovely woman told me you applied a new potion.”
“Yeah, you’re going to have baby limbs for a while,” Theo said, pointing at the Elf’s stumps. “Story time.”
“Right. Story time.” Fenian cleared his throat, coughing and hacking up green mucus. Theo dabbed the edge of the Elf’s mouth with a section of his Starbristle cloth. “Thank you. The Eye had plans for you from the start. He mapped out your progress to the day, and was quite angry when it didn’t play out his way. Khahar tipped the scales, although I don’t think he ever knew it was you. Theo Spencer from Earth.”
Theo’s brow knit tightly, then he released the tension in his body. Of course. “He seeded the Bantari in Broken Tusk. Because of the Tara’hek.”
“There he is,” Fenian said, clapping his one arm on Theo’s shoulder. “He can be smart sometimes. Mostly, we keep him around for his good looks.”
“How could he predict a bond?” Theo asked, regretting the question the moment he asked it. His hand went for the locket that no longer hung from his neck. An item lost on his old body. On Earth. “Nevermind. Where is Karasan? Do we need to kill him?”
“I’d absolutely love to kill that snake.” Fenian let out a frustrated breath. “He’s too slimy to catch, though. No, I need to change tactics. Well, I destroyed his kingdom. That’s a start. Oh, there’s a problem. The undead have… uh… well, they’ve gotten out of control.”
“Oh, really? The horde of undead you unleashed on the continent has gotten out of control? Was it ever under control?” Theo asked.
“Well, it was. Then it wasn’t. Depending on your reaction, I may or may not have done a bad thing.”
“What did you ‘maybe’ do?”
“Planted a bone from the fallen god Balkor under a small town near Qavell. Hypothetically bringing with it the power of undeath, and the unending hunger of the living dead to the continent. This all depends on your reaction, of course. I didn’t do it if you’re upset.”
What an absolute nightmare. Theo had to take a moment to see how he felt about the situation. The undead were a problem, that was true. But were they something that impeded Broken Tusk and the newly formed alliance? Not really. They created a barrier that protected them from a Qavelli response. Even a Veostian assault would be hard to muster.
“My reaction depends on how permanent the undead are,” Theo said.
“They’re completely undying, now. The first wave of undead that left Gardreth were reanimated undead. With Balkor’s bones around, they’ll keep creating new undead. From monsters, people, even plants if they’re sapient enough.”
“On a scale of one to ten, I’m five upset,” Theo said.
“Oh! I can work with that. Then it was me! I did it!”
“What’s the endgame?” Theo asked.
Fenian gripped Theo’s forearm hard, a manic look flashing in his eyes. “My Throne, Theo. I need my throne. So do… well, let’s worry about mine first. Oh, the Span has fallen to the undead. Veosta is under attack.”
“Cool. We’re not just war criminals anymore. Now we’re doing genocide.”
“I didn’t create the cycle of life and death. I just thrive in it,” Fenian said.
The trader had more information to deliver, but it was about trade deals. Representatives from far-off nations had heard the first whispers of a free port on the continent, and would arrive shortly. Fenian had a plan for the undead, but the plan was to make a plan. Otherwise, he wanted them to scour the northlands. Qavell city still stood, as well as Veosta city, but that seemed like a matter of time.
“Veosta will last the longest. They have High Priests of Glantheir. The Qavelli are godless, and will fall accordingly,” Fenian said.
“Perfect. So, I’m guessing you’re not doing any trading runs in your condition.”
“Not now. I just need a day to regain my strength. I was fighting for years in the realms this way. Lost the leg first. Then the arm. You know how it is.”
Theo shook his head, rising from the bedside as someone entered the room. Alise came in with reams of parchment, approaching Fenian with requests for items. He seemed happy to fall into his old life, even if that whole thing was a lie. The alchemist left the town hall to meet with Aarok and Luras about the fight after getting word that Xol’sa had mostly recovered. One less thing to worry about.
Aarok was pissed about the battle. He hadn’t considered ghosts as an enemy, and placed an order with Salire for infinite [Hallow Ground] items. He complained when she refused to write him down for ‘infinity potions’, but took his order all the same.
“We need a giant bubble of that potion,” Aarok said.
“I think I need a few more levels for the ‘giant bubble’ ability,” Theo said, laughing.
“Can you imbue this?” Luras asked, holding out a single, iron-tipped arrow.
Theo chanted, passing his hands over the item several times. He wasn’t used to his new spell, and the process took several attempts. His mana drained away as he warded the arrow, applying the [Hallow Ground] effect with a [Detect Enemy] trigger.
“Looks like it,” Theo said. “Anti-undead arrows? Well, I don’t think the effect is as strong as on the bonework.”
“Then we’ll use bone-tipped arrows,” Luras said, nodding. “Add that to our arsenal.”
Theo checked his inter-town communication system. There were chat logs between Alise and the other leaders. They had the ghost problem under control, but it was like putting out fires that started themselves. A game of wraith-based whack-a-mole. But the effect of the frantic battle, and creating so many different potions and wards, was a ton of experience for the alchemist. Enough experience to send his personal level to 21. He spent the free point in [Wisdom] sending him over the threshold of 30 as he stood with his companions.
A rush of insight flooded through him. It wasn’t like when he increased his stats over a threshold with potions.
As with everything in Broken Tusk, things got back to normal quickly. People were already working again by the time Theo left the eastern wall. He wandered to the shipyard, finding the frame of more than one boat in progress. They were farther along than he expected, and the angry Elf Laedria Wavecrest waved excitedly when she saw him.
“Trade boats!” she shouted, gesturing vaguely to the skeletal ships. “Gonna be some big bastards. Good thing you dug this channel so deep.”
“I counted on it,” Theo said, approaching the woman. He clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Any chance you can increase your production?”
“I’m building two boats at once, my guy,” Laedria said, laughing. “What more do you want?”
“Three. Maybe four at once?” Theo asked. He shook his head immediately after that. “No, this is fine. Are you being paid?”
“By your administrators. Was hoping we’d get a bonus when we finished them.”
“Of course. The Southlands Alliance is buying all the trade boats you make. We’ll work out an amount, but I can’t see them being worth anything less than 100 gold.”
“Thereabouts.”
“Yeah, we’ll see. We still have a cash problem,” Theo said. His eyes lingered on the boats for a long moment. Until he heard the clatter of bells in the distance. The frantic ringing that meant trouble was around.
[Aarok]: Foreign ships sighted entering the canal. Gronro divisions, if you’re not too wounded to fight, report to the eastern approach wall. Broken Tusk divisions, same. Prepare for battle.
“Oh, he’s pissed today,” Laedria said, chuckling. She still joined Theo as he darted for the south-facing side of the harbor’s wall.
The pair ascended the steps in moments, leaning over the edge to squint against the afternoon sun. Three massive ships were coming in a line up the canal. They bore standards Theo didn’t recognize.
“Hey, they’ve got coalition flags. From Partopour,” Laedria said.
Theo turned to the Elven shipwright. “Friendly?”
“Oh, yeah. Well, mostly. Sometimes. They normally have a flag with a sword if they’re gonna gut you.”
Theo watched as troops assembled on the adjoining wall, leveling weapons and preparing to attack. A voice boomed from the lead ship, magically enhanced as slurring in poorly spoken Qavelli.
“Is Broken Tusk open for business?” the voice echoed across the town. “Do you require aid from the horde of ghosts that washed over our ships?”
Theo didn’t know if the ships were close enough to hear him, but he cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted back. “We don’t require help. But we are open to trade.”
“I am Miltar Sharp. Trade Admiral of the Partopour Trade Fleet,” the voice boomed back. “We are requesting a peaceful docking with Broken Tusk. With whom am I speaking?”
“Archduke Theo Spencer,” Theo shouted back. “Leader of the Southlands Alliance. Traitors to Qavell.”
“We have no love for the Qavelli bastards,” Miltar said. “Nor do we care what your position is among them. As the acting representative of the Partopour navy in this region, I extend my hand in welcome, Archduke Theo Spencer.”
“Tell them to raise the gates,” Theo ordered. Laedria scampered off.
The ships approached, waiting for the gate to be lifted. The hung unnaturally against the canal’s current, owing to the upgrade ability of the shipyard. Theo finally got a decent look at the Trade Admiral. His features were somewhere between a normal Human and Half-Orc. His skin was tinged green, and he had small tusks protruding from his lower lip. The man wore a red tricorn hat, with a sweeping coat that didn’t befit the hot day. His crew worked the sails, scattering on the deck of the three-masted ship.
The gate rose.
Theo watched as the ships passed under the massive gate. The crews went into motion on the three ships, mooring them at the dock. No one disembarked. They waited until the alchemist hurried around the harbor, standing under the towering vessels.
“Permission to come ashore?” Miltar asked, waving excitedly at Theo.
“Permission granted!”
Miltar’s men threw ladders over the bows of their ships. The Trade Admiral was the first to descend, although his crew was already scattered around the docks. Theo appreciated the respect this man gave him. More than any other leader had ever managed for him.
“Thank you for the warm welcome,” Miltar said, bowing.
Theo bowed back. “The Southlands Alliance is eager to make new friends. Especially her esteemed guests from Partopour.”
Miltar fanned himself with his hand, feigning a fainting spell. “My, my! You know how to greet a guest, Mister Theo Spencer. Would it be agreeable for my crew to unload wares for display on your dock?”
“Please do,” Theo said, gesturing to the open spaces of the dock. There was plenty of room for them to set up vendor stalls. “Could I invite you to my town hall? You’ll have to excuse the mess, we were just attacked.”
“By all means, take your time my good man,” Miltar said. “Oh, a procession.”
Theo spun around, finding his command structure approaching. Azrug, Alise, Gwyn, Luras, and Aarok approached. The alchemist got a sense that both Alex and Tresk were uneasy at first. They were shaken by his sudden sway in emotions. He could feel the Marshling lurking nearby, but the goose was right at his heels. Honking.
Theo introduced everyone, including Alex, to the Trade Admiral. He removed his hat, revealing a balding head, and bowed to everyone as they were introduced. The formality and kindness of the exchange had everyone taken aback.
“It is always a pleasure to see Half-Ogres in the wild,” Miltar said, following Theo up the road. “As a Half-Orc, I see them as distant cousins.”
“Really?” Aarok asked.
“We’re all lost children, us half-breeds.” Miltar clapped a hand over Aarok’s shoulder and laughed. “May I ask if the ghosts were a part of the undead in the region? I’ve heard bad things about them, but…”
“But there’s none here,” Theo said, gesturing to his town. There were wounded here and there, but it appeared things were back to normal. “We’ve taken precautions.”
“As traitors often do,” Miltar said with a nod. “No offense meant to those traitors present, of course. Death to Karasan and all that. To be honest, Partopour doesn’t care. We’re interested in one thing. Trade.”
