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Throne Hunters Book 3, Chapter 11
🕑 Added 2024-10-04 19:50:10 +0000 UTCHarald stared at the ebon crystal. Just like the Shadow Mastiff’s, it was eight-faced, a black diamond that spun slowly in place, trapped within the confines of the rosewood box.
“She got this from the dead hobgoblins.”
“Right,” said Vic. “Though she doesn’t remember where, exactly. She was, shall we say, a little shook up by the whole experience. But by a cunning process of elimination, we can surmise that it’s either a hobgoblin, that huge orc, or the troll with the explosive arrows.”
“The troll would be useful,” said Sam. “Regenerative ability, and if he comes with his bow and ammunition…”
“Agreed,” said Vic. “But who knows? As a 16th Level Servitor it’ll be Uncommon, which is quite nice. 15th Level or worse and you’d be stuck with a Common grade, and honestly, that would be so plebian.”
“Well. Only one way to find out what it is,” said Harald. Then he glanced up at the other two. “When’s the last time you saw her?”
“Nessa?” Vic shrugged. “Three days ago, I think?”
“And you didn’t think to hunt her down?”
“Honestly? No.” Vic arched a brow. “She’s a big girl, Harald. I’ve told you before. And you can’t fight someone’s addiction for them. Nor does one grand intervention ever last long, not if the victim’s not cleared out the root of their problems. Which she hasn’t. So.”
Harald sat back. “So we’re just going to… let her wreck herself?”
Sam sighed. “Harald. You’re talking as if there’s something more that we could do. We’ve done plenty already. Made the crew, made her the delve captain, intervened. But we’re not her parents.”
“More’s the pity,” said Vic. “Seeing as that’s the root of her problems. Look, I know what you’re thinking, but honestly, it’s like… fishing? No. Nothing like fishing. It’s like…” Vic paused. “Building a model boat? You can stick all the pieces together, but once you push it out onto the lake, you just have to pray the glue sticks long enough for it to… find a safe harbor?”
Sam and Harald stared at him.
“What I’m saying,” said Vic, “is that it’s on her, now. Either she returns, or she doesn’t. And if she does return, it’s on her to be ready for the next delve. If she can’t keep her shit together, then she’s out.”
“Harsh,” said Harald, but then raised both palms. “But… I hear what you’re saying. I just wish it was otherwise.”
“So do we all. Now. Servitor Crystal?”
Harald nodded. He still felt uneasy. Still wished to head out into the Shambles and hunt Nessa down. But they were right. He couldn’t, and shouldn’t, fight this battle for her. Not if she was to eventually win a permanent victory. So he put his pain and sympathy and pity aside, and focused on the black crystal.
“Here we go,” he whispered, and reached out for it.
A flash of power raced through him, rich and exhilarating, and the crystal disappeared.
Down into his Cosmos.
He could feel its presence within him, deep within. So, smiling weakly at his companions, he closed his eyes, and sank into his core.
Slowly he swam down into the darkness until the glittering armature of the Fallen Angel appeared, rarefied and beautiful, a constellation of power and divinity against the darkness of his soul.
To one side hung the Goldchop and the Amulet of the Hobgoblin King. Prowling around and sniffing endlessly was Shadowpaw, his darkness making him blend in with the night. Harald could intuit where the Demon Seed hung, an absence that would reveal itself further if he pressed.
But his attention was focused on the new figure standing within his Cosmos.
A hobgoblin.
Harald groaned.
The hobgoblin was slender, his skin pale as milk, his eye a searing blue. A tattered robe of gold fell to his calves, and he wore a golden pauldron over one shoulder. One of his eyes was stitched closed, an old wound, and his fangs were almost translucent, slender like cat’s teeth and bristling in his maw like some deep sea horror.
Wirmas.
Harald immediately exited the Cosmos and opened his eyes.
“And?” demanded Vic. “Troll with explosive arrows?”
“No such luck.” And reluctantly he summoned the hobgoblin leader.
Wirmas appeared in the garden, his golden pauldron gleaming in the early afternoon sunlight. Wary, surprised, he twisted about, taking in his new environs, and then his sole blue eye fixed on Harald.
“Hello, Wirmas.” Harald gave a wave. “Remember me?”
The hobgoblin’s upper lip peeled back from his translucent fangs. “Of course. Madness made flesh. A monster to put the worst of orcs to shame.”
Vic had gone very still, and Sam had dropped her hand to her sheathed sword.
“You’re my Servitor now,” said Harald, watching the hobgoblin carefully. “Do you bear me any ill will?”
Wirmas extended his arms out to the sides and made the slightest of bows. “How could I? My will is not my own. You are my Praetor. Oh, I remember your slaughtering my warriors well enough, but even now, those memories…” Wirmas frowned. “Like a dream. Hazy. You came down to where I reigned, but… the cause of our conflict?”
Harald leaned forward. “You don’t remember the human woman who fell into your camp?”
“I…” Wirmas frowned in frustration. “It’s leaving me. I’ve a sense of it. The war camp, my men, my ambitions… but… no.” He gave his head a sharp shake and scowled. “It would seem my past is of little account. It’s… gone.”
Harald exchanged a glance with Vic. “What do you remember, if anything?”
Wirmas sneered. “Oh, plenty, fear not. How to wield a blade, how to craft a charming turn of phrase. I remember my life, my first life, my real life, before I became this shadow.”
“Fascinating,” breathed Sam. “So it’s true. You’re aware of not being real.”
Wirmas’ sneer was endlessly multifaceted; now it became mocking. “How could I not be, seeing as I’ve just been summoned into a fancy human garden from nowhere at all?” He glanced around, taking in the hedges, Bosworth who was watching with rising trepidation, the scope of the manor itself. “Is this your home?”
“Not quite,” said Harald. “So you remember life before the dungeon?”
“Like it was yesterday,” murmured the hobgoblin. “My home amongst the Blood Crags, the weather whipping my skin with lashes of rain. Being born a runt, using my wits to claw for every advantage. Manipulating my peers, betraying them, goading them to dance at my whims. The war against the Broken Fist orcs. Hope and lust, dreams of pride and ambition.” Wirmas raised his pallid hand and curled it into a fist. “All gone, now. And if it ever was, it wasn’t mine. That Wirmas is another, and his memories are just… the feathers and twigs with which the Fallen Angel has seen fit to line the nest of my mind.”
“Lovely,” said Vic. “We’ve a nihilistic poet on our hands.”
“Not your hands,” sneered Wirmas. “I obey him and only him. My Praetor. Whoever you are, you’re as dear to me as dog tripe.”
“I thought your kind loved dog tripe,” said Vic innocently. “With a little garlic and oregano?”
Harald summoned his window and glanced down the wall of text to where his Servitors were listed.
Servitors: Shadow Mastiff (Uncommon), Hobgoblin Boss (Uncommon)
“What can you do, Wirmas?” he asked. “How can you help me?”
Wirmas’ sneer smoothed away as he considered Harald with his sole gleaming eye. “Is that doubt I hear in your voice, Praetor? You worried Wirmas won’t carry his own weight because he’s slight and sickly looking?”
“Yes,” said Vic, tone bright and snapping his fingers. “That’s exactly it.”
“I can wield a blade,” said the hobgoblin, drawing forth a curved dagger as long as Harald’s forearm. “It’s near as sharp as my wit and serves just fine to open a second smile beneath the first. But that’s not what allowed Wirmas to rise to the position of boss.” He tested the tip of his wicked dagger then sheathed it. “My mind is twisted, but it’s those very breaks that give me power. Give me insight over my own kind, so that I may amplify their might or weaken their will. Here. See it with your own eyes.”
And text appeared in the air before Harald:
Hobgoblin Boss Servitor Ability: Commanding Presence
Wirmas wields an unsettling authority over his kin, inspiring allies and demoralizing foes. His very presence on the battlefield alters the tide of combat.
Up to 40 hobgoblins followers gain +2 to Strength and Dexterity.
Enemies within a 10-yard radius suffer -2 to Strength and Dexterity.
“Huh,” said Harald. “Interesting. He’s got Commanding Presence.” And he explained what it did.
“Not very exciting,” said Vic, making a moue. “If we planned to spend forever on -”
“Actually.” Harald felt a spike of excitement. “Can I give a Servitor an Artifact?”
“If they’re capable of wielding them, sure,” said Sam. “I think? But it still counts toward your own limit.”
“Your amulet?” asked Vic.
“Exactly.” Harald manifested the Artifact and inspected it quickly.
Amulet of the Hobgoblin King
Quality: UncommonSpecial Ability: Command of the Horde
Activation: While wearing this amulet, gain the ability to exert influence over goblinoid creatures. Increases charisma and intimidation when dealing with goblinoids. Small chance to rally goblinoid enemies to your cause in battle.
+6 to Presence w/goblinoids
Limitation: Effects only apply to goblinoid species. The amulet's power may draw unwanted attention from goblinoid leaders who sense their sovereignty challenged.
Harald pulled it from around his neck and held it out to Wirmas. “Here. Take a look at this. Some of its abilities are superfluous, but…”
Wirmas approached and took the amulet, turning it over in his pale hands as he at last ceased to sneer and instead looked impressed. “This is powerful magic.”
“Can you wear it? Can you use its powers?”
Wirmas slipped the amulet over his head and rested it over his chest, adjusting it so that it lay just so. “Ah,” he breathed. “Now this… this is very, very good.”
Then the hobgoblin froze, brow creased, as he read something invisible in the air. After a moment he cackled, a genuine cackle unlike anything Harald had ever heard before, and all but pranced from one foot to the next. “Ah! Ah! If only I’d had this treasure while alive, with a will and a mind of my own! I would have ruled the world, would have led armies of such power that all would have been mine, the gold and the treasure, the women and the world -”
“Wirmas.” Harald infused his voice with authority. “What is it?”
The hobgoblin ceased his horrific prancing and sneered. “See for yourself, beloved Praetor.”
Hobgoblin Boss Servitor Ability: Commanding Presence (Amplified)
Wirmas wields an amplified and unsettling authority over his kin, inspiring allies and demoralizing foes with even greater potency. His very presence on the battlefield alters the tide of combat, rallying his troops to fight with unmatched fervor while striking paralyzing fear into the hearts of his enemies.
Up to 100 hobgoblins followers gain +4 to Strength and Dexterity.
Enemies within a 20-yard radius suffer -4 to Strength and Dexterity.
“Whoa,” said Harald, and quickly read it to Sam and Vic. “That’s a hell of a jump.”
“It’s the synergy,” said Sam excitedly. “A leadership-oriented Servitor combined with a leadership-focused Artifact is just exponentially better than any other combination.”
Vic waved his hand. “Whatever she said. But a hundred followers?” He let out a low whistle. “Harry, that’s a small army we’re talking about.”
“A small army with +4 Strength and Dexterity,” added Sam excitedly. “And hobgoblins are already powerful warriors. You’d… I mean.” She paused. “What would you even do with them?”
“Take them to war,” said Harald, suddenly feeling giddy. “We’d round up a hundred followers, then… what?” He turned to Wirmas. “Kill everyone else?”
Wirmas executed a mocking bow. “What a grand and glorious time we will have of it.”
Vic pressed his hand to his temple. “I mean, you’ll get no experience for that, no leveling up, but in terms of clearing scales… you could clear the 16th all the way down to the 20th.”
“Clearing the 20th might be a bit much,” cautioned Sam. “That’s where every member of the previous eight levels gather in force to fight as one. Including ogres.”
“What were you saying about the 18th?” asked Harald, too exited to care. “I should bring Thracos three wands? What if… what if I brought him all of them?”
“All of them?” asked Vic, delighted in turn. “You mean every shaman’s wand on the 18th Level at one time?”
“Exactly!” Harald punched one hand into the other palm. “That’s going above and beyond, isn’t it? He said I had to go below by myself. Which I would. I’d just summon Wirmas here to come help.”
“What’s this?” asked Wirmas.
“Do you have to tell him?” Vic grimaced. “That feels too much like making him part of the crew.”
“Will you remember if I do?” asked Harald.
To which the albino hobgoblin shrugged. “One way to find out, dearest, most revered Praetor.”
“That’s sarcasm,” said Vic. “I can tell.”
“Oh, tell him,” said Sam. “He’s ostensibly part of our crew now, unless Harald asks him to not talk. Right?”
“Can you ask him to stop sneering?” asked Vic.
Wirmas sneered.
“I’ve been forced into a competition of sorts against a rival,” said Harald, and explained what was going on in a very cursory way. “Hence my need to acquire shaman wands.”
“Troll shamans are powerful,” cautioned Wirmas. “Powerful and crazy.”
“More powerful than a hundred augmented hobgoblin warriors?” asked Harald.
Wirmas hesitated, then conceded the point. “No.”
“Then it’s done,” said Harald. “I need to speak with Lady Sonora after this, let her know that I’m recovered and thank her for her kindness. But at some point in the near future, we’ll be heading back down to the dungeon to try out this plan.”
“I’ll come with you,” said Sam. “That’s what we agreed. You’d no longer enter by yourself.”
“I’m wounded,” said Wirmas.
“You don’t count,” said Vic with distaste. “You’re an illusory figment of the Fallen Angel’s imagination. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
Wirmas smiled his gleaming toothy smile and simply stared at Vic, his blazing blue eye hooded.
“While I’m talking to Countess Sonora, Vic, you’re going to find Nessa.” Before Vic could protest, Harald raised a hand to forestall him. “You’re just going to tell her I’m recovered and what’s happened. Let her decide what to do with that information. If all goes well, I’d like to do a regular dungeon run tomorrow with the crew to boost our levels, and we’re going to need our delve captain.”
“Yes, yes, very well.” Vic rubbed a finger over his lips. “That might do her some good, actually. Give her a reason to lift her head from the trough. But honestly, can you banish this Servitor of yours? He looks like he should stink.”
“What does that mean?” asked Sam.
Vic waved a hand. “He looks like he should reek. The fact that he doesn’t is disconcerting. Also, he’s making me uncomfortable the way he’s leering at me.”
“Thank you, Wirmas.” Harald inclined his head. “I’ll summon you when it’s time to go below.”
“I shall await breathlessly,” said the hobgoblin, tone acidic.
“Because you don’t actually breathe,” shouted Vic just as the hobgoblin disappeared. “Urgh. So much better without him. You know, if you were a classier kind of Darrowdelve, you’d have a ‘no hobgoblins in the crew’ rule.”
Harald just stared at him.
“Be that as it may. Sam told me about your meeting with Pastoric, by the by.”
“Pastoric? Oh! Right. Feels like that was yesterday already. It went…” Harald glanced over to Sam for support. “Well? How did you put it?”
“We learned a lot. He gave us options.” She blushed faintly. “He was quite knowledgeable.”
“Oh, come on,” groaned Vic. “Don’t tell me you fancy him, too?”
Sam jerked up her chin. “I can’t respect a man for his learning and wisdom without you thinking I ‘fancy’ him?”
“Whatever,” said Vic. “Because you blush every time you mention a man whose learning you respect. What is it with that Seraphite?”
Harald rubbed the back of his head with a sigh. “He said he could draw the Seed out of my Cosmos, but that it end my career as a raider.”
“Oh.” Vic frowned. “Oh! Dramatic. You said no, obviously.”
“You want him damned?” snapped Sam.
“No, it’s just that he’s clearly planning to go raiding soon, and that’s not something he’d do without, you know, the ability to raid.”
“Oh,” said Sam. “I still think we need to talk about this.”
Vic eyed Harald pensively. “Do we? I think our boy over there has already made up his mind.”
Harald all but squirmed. “I think at some point it’ll make sense. But not before I learn more about this celestial war, and whether I can make a difference in it. I’m still committed to helping the people of Flutic, one way or another.”
“What a wonderful excuse,” said Vic.
“And I’ll have to fight Thracos regardless,” added Harald. “No point in giving up the Seed until I’ve defended myself.”
“So you’re willing to give it up when you defeat Thracos?” demanded Sam.
“I can’t defeat Thracos,” said Harald, suddenly morose.
“We’re working on buying you more time, remember?” said Vic.
“Still.”
“The point remains,” insisted Sam. “Once you’re no longer literally fighting for your life, will you consider removing the Seed?”
Harald met her stare. For a long, aching moment he said nothing, but then he nodded jerkily. “Of course.”
“Good.” Sam sniffed. “I’ll hold you to it.”
“She’s like a wife you never married,” said Vic, then jerked his arms up to defend himself. “What? Marriage is a respected institution!”
Harald grimaced. “Daylight is wasting. I’m now a sworn member of Countess Sonora’s household. I need to report to her everything that’s happened.”
“I’m going to head back to my place,” said Sam. “I haven’t been home in days. I’ll return tomorrow for breakfast? So we can plan the raid?”
“Whereas I need a deep nap,” said Vic, “and then I’ll head out to find Nessa. Oh! I’ll take Kársek. He needs to loosen up some. I’ll give him a tour of Nessa’s favorite haunts.”
“I don’t know if that will work,” said Harald.
“A good battle is always worth the fight,” said Vic. “But first, I must nap.”
They bid each other goodbye, and Harald made his way up the drive toward the front door.
Comments
SAB
> “The point remains,” insisted Sam. “Once you’re no longer literally fighting for your life, will you consider removing the Seed?” This request from Sam makes zero sense for a multitude of reasons: They understand from Pastoric that Harald has the potential to kill the demons. They know that Flutic is dying from overflowing corruption. Sam knows how important it is to Harald to find out what happened to his father. She knows how important it is to Harald for him to protect/save the people of Flutic. Harald just swore himself a knight to Countess Sonora, with promises to restore her House and elevate her. Sam logically believes the Fallen Angel herself intervened to give her her class specifically to help keep Harald from falling into darkness as his grows. Removing the Demon Seed now means all of the above becomes impossible and/or moot. There's absolutely no way Harald would agree to do it, and understandably so. Sam even asking means she has not given it a lick of thought, which is not believable.
Traellium
LMAO
Jake Swartz
Gorkin’s going to the Diddy parties
E
Love this. TYFTC
ShivaMcTimber
TYFTC! I was wondering how the Countess' needs would be addressed. I thought they were going to hit the warehouse before the boss.
Lorenz
Loved it. Appreciated the honesty with which the Countess shared her situation with Harald. And Phil glad you have power again! Stay safe!
Dual.
Tftc
IamTheCasualReader
Quite like Sonora. She's charming to Harald but without being too common with him, but it seems like his sincerity is disarming her slightly.
Taylor
I really enjoyed this and the last chapter. Honestly it was great to be able to read both at once. Glad to hear you’re doing ok and at least the office has power.
