NOVPUBThe bar was in complete chaos when I arrived. What few [Healers] were available ran to and fro triaging the worst injured. Even Aqua was involved, as some of the Spirit monsters caused – believe it or not, Spirit damage – and her [Hypnotist] abilities were highly effective at healing it.
I collapsed as soon as I swayed in, supported by a wide eyed Mirelda. My Mana was at rock bottom, and I was feeling the effects. I was followed by a stream of soldiers and Adventurers and finally Balin and Elijah. When the two of THEM entered, there was a cacophony of cheers and shouting. Balin had just enough time to look surprised before Annie buried him in a hug.
Balin and Elijah were quickly surrounded by well wishers and those who wanted to shake their hand, genuflect before them, or praise their name. I on the other hand, got all the angry people wanting to know how they were supposed to get out, were we really safe in this place, wasn’t this a dungeon, et cetera.
After half a minute of growing complaints, Mirelda hopped up onto the table next to us and loomed over everyone. “Everyone BACK OFF!” She shouted. “Pete was one of the last ones out! He needs rest just as much as the rest of you!”
The crowd stepped back, and dropped into nervous chatter. “Thanks.” I whispered up to Mirelda.
She gave me a pained nod. “You rest. We’ll handle it.” She turned back to the crowd. “Barck himself has guaranteed the protection of this place. No monsters will be coming through those doors! Assuming Tree’s army can clear out the palace, we’ll be able to go back out soon!”
“How will we know when it’s clear! The other doors don’t work!” A bloody looking belf shouted. “I need to know if my family’s safe!”
Ironbellows came running over, followed by several other Herders to help with the throng. “You cannae get through, but don’t worry, we’ve sent word to City Hall,” he told the crowd. “We should be able to get in contact with Tree through the City’s [Heralds]. One of these doors leads to Boughs, but none of ya’ will be able to take it yet. We’ll notify everyone when we know more. Fer now, if yer not injured, please follow one of our people ta get a room assigned to you. We’ll provide food fer everyone in an hour.”
From the kitchen, I could just make out the sound of swearing and banging pots. Ah, thank you Bran.
There was some relieved murmuring, and the crowd began to break up, following the staff to rooms on the fourth, fifth, and whateverth floor. The sick and injured were moved to the third floor, right above the rooms we’d set aside for the Herders while we dug them space below the inn.
As for me?
My high Vitality was enough to keep from passing out, but it was a near thing.
I did fall asleep though. The last thing I remembered was Mirelda carrying me to my bed and laying me on my cot.
—
I awoke with a start in my dark room. My dreams had been of screaming white ghosts and fiery ants and gnomish ninjas. Oh my.
A notification was blinking in my vision, and I waved it away.
Quest Complete: Spiritual Survival
Good thinking! Maybe I’ll drop by for a drink too!
Gained 1 Vitality! Your new strength is 23!
I yawned mightily, and as I did, my elbow bumped something soft. There was a faint feminine *unf*.
With trepidation, I slowly turned my head to look beside me.
Penelope stared back, her eyes accusing, as my elbow thunked into her udders again. For some reason I couldn’t fathom, she was lying in bed with me, cuddled under the blankets.
She bleated an accusing, *Meeeehhh* [Translated from Prima Donna Goat] “Shameless cad!”
She stood with an annoyed grunt and hopped off the end of the bed. As she did, my blanket caught on her horn, and she strutted out of the room with it trailing behind her like some kind of goatish wedding train.
I watched her go with a mix of emotions. What had I been… ‘trepidated’? about? Was that a word? Trep-i-date-ed… My Kingdom for an autocorrect. My last memory was of Mirelda carrying me in her strong muscley arms, her beard draped over my chest, her –
Nope! With a grunt and a scratch at my beard I spun my legs off the bed and hopped down, ready to take on whatever fresh hell awaited me.
And promptly landed on Mirelda, who was sleeping beside my bed.
She yelped with surprise at the sudden pain, and I yelped even louder.
“What’re you doin’ ‘ere!” I gabbled, pointing at her and covering myself with my beard.
She rubbed the back of her head. “I was worried about you! You ungrateful, uncultured, clumsy oaf!”
Then she said more quietly. “And I was afraid of nightmares…”
I nodded, thinking back to my own dreams. “Aye, I can agree with that. And tha’ goat?”
Mirelda shrugged, “She puttered in some time last night. Gave me the stink eye, then jumped into your bed. Sorry if she thinks you cheated on.” She giggled.
I groaned. “Not you too…”
“Me… too?”
“Just – never mind. Since we’re both awake, want ta go get breakfast?”
Mirelda nodded. “If I can eat. My stomach’s still a bit queasy from yesterday.”
“Yeah, weren’t exactly pretty,” I scratched my stomach and then looked down. I was standing there in my underpants and not much else.
Eh. I’d gotten used to public nakedness in the past few years, but I had no way of knowing if Mirelda was okay with it. I quickly shoved some basic leathers on, along with my armoured socks, then gestured out the door.
We snuck out of my room and down the hall. From the rumbling and snoring coming from Balin’s room, I could tell he was still asleep. My pocket watch said it was almost noon, but I wasn’t going to wake him.
The pub, it turned out, had been turned into a war room. In one corner, various Adventurers and military folk were kitting up, sharpening weapons and practicing their Abilities. Thirsty Goat staff were running to and fro delivering food to the civilians upstairs, while runners streamed in through the Crack and Bough doors. It made for a scene of organized chaos. Prince Elijah was bent over a table with the rest of Raptor’s Respite, surrounded by various dwarven, elven, human, and beastfolk dignitaries. Duke Barnes was among them, and he waved me over as soon as he spotted me.
“Pete! Glad ‘yer awake! By the unholy Yams of Yearn, get over here!”
“I guess breakfast will have to wait,” I grumbled.
“I – I – I’ll go grab you some food,” Mirelda stammered, pulling away. For some reason she was bright red, and I gave her a curious glance as she ran over to the bar. Then I looked back over at Prince Elijah, who was wearing a skin-tight set of sheer leather for pants, and a webbed fishnet of some kind for a shirt. He was giving us a cheery wave. Uh-huh.
“What’s the word,” I asked, stepping beside the table. It was covered in maps of Tree and the royal palace, with little green and white flags and bits and bobs representing troop movement. I could read exactly none of it, but it was pretty clear from the placement that the white flags represented the monsters, and the green flags the elves.
“We’re plannin’ a counterattack,” Barnes said, matter of factly. “Tree’s Army has managed to recapture Anima Dungeon’s entrance, but the damn monsters are still pouring out from somewhere in the Palace. But it’s… odd.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Odd?” I asked, looking everything over. There was a big X in the ballroom with a note that said Cascadia.
“The damn things aren’t trying to leave the palace,” Elijah pointed to where white flags lined the inner walls of the palace. “They’re gathering their forces, while grabbing anything magical they can get their claws on. As the Duke said, it’s odd behaviour.”
I thought back to my conversation with the vintner. “Master Romero was saying the same thing, that something was off with the Tender Sprites.”
“Excuse me, who is this!?” A well dressed gelf complained, pointing at me. “This is a vital military operation!”
“THIS is the person who rescued your ungrateful ass,” Elijah snapped. “This is his dungeon!”
The gelf shrank back, yellowing. Or whatever it was that elves did when they blushed.
“I dunno, kind of feels like you were the one saving everyone. You and Balin.” I sighed, pulling up a chair and plunking into it.
“Indeed, it was marvelous to watch,” a belfess in a military uniform sighed, clutching her hands together. Elijah gave her a flashing smile and she smiled coquettishly back.
“As you were saying, Lord Roughtuff, this is indeed irregular,” Barnes harrumphed. “We’ve had similar outbreaks with our own Kobold population. We’ve been forced to keep [Mattershapers] on the job at all times, seeking out any new burrows they dig out of the dungeon. They’re getting smarter about it too.”
“And there’s the crux of it,” another uniformed helf complained. He had lots of medals and bars on his clothes, so he had to be someone important. My lessons hadn’t covered military insignia for Awemedinand yet, and I made a mental note to read up on it eventually. “We need to find how they’re still getting into the palace. If the dungeon entrance is secured, then there must be a rift somewhere nearby. If the Tender Sprites can build up enough of a beachhead, and then start making forays into the city, it’s going to become a nightmare. Right now it’s still a Break, but at that point it’ll be repeated Stampedes. In one of the most populous cities on Erd.”
Everyone at the table nodded morosely.
“A rift?” I asked.
“Hotspots of Spirit Mana cahn connect to each other, bypassing the surrounding Matter. Spirit based monsters cahn step from one hotspot like this to another, effectively teleporting between them. We cahll those ‘rifts’,” a scarred beastfolk sitting beside me explained. “As a Spirit dungeon, Anima sometimes spahwns them. They’re usually temporary, or too smahll for monsters to pass through, but this one clearly isn’t.”
Elijah banged his fist on the table. “Dammit! I keep sending word to the King to send troops in now and hang the consequences! This is going to get worse and worse! There’s no way a fucking cordon’s going to work! What is the Adventurer’s Guild doing!?”
I glanced down at the map, where a circle of green flags surrounded the Palace. I thought back to the ghastly white shapes as they swept through walls and barriers, and of the flying, clawing, screeching thorny birds. I shivered. No, it probably wouldn’t work.
“We’ve been sending messages,” Barnes growled. “And we’ve confirmed they’re gettin’ through. But they just keep sayin’ ‘we’re handlin’ it, we don’t need yer help.’”
Elijah threw up his hands. “This is no time for political posturing!”
“How long do we have?” I whispered, watching as another runner came up and added a bunch of white flags to the west wing of the palace. The decorated helf scowled and muttered something to the runner, who sprinted off again and out the Boughs door.
“A day, two at most at the rate they’re streaming in,” Elijah said.
There was a despairing silence for a minute, until Elijah spoke again, his tone hesitant.
“The portal you left inside the Palace is behind their lines, and from what we can tell, it isn’t well defended. The Sprites are showing more intelligence than usual, but they don’t seem to understand that just because they can’t come through the portal doesn’t mean that we can’t go back. Our best bet may be to send an expedition through and try to find the rift, and get our [Antimages] to close it. That’s what we were discussing when you arrived.”
“Assuming there is a rift.” I thought about what I knew of Titles. “Can’t you just ask a [Seer] to try and find it?”
Elijah shook his head. “They’ve tried. Even some of the more Specialized ones. But the Sprites have done something to prevent it. This is really unheard of. They’re organized, and thinking strategically. No, our best bet right now is to hit them hard and fast from behind, coordinated with an assault from the city.”
“Which we’ve already told everyone,” the first belf whined. “This isn’t new information for any of us. What we need is something useful. Does this pub have anything that could help us?”
“Other than providing you somewhere safe to fall back to, not really.” I scowled, nettled. Who was this guy!?
“What are you talkin’ about brother. You’ve got me.” A voice said from behind me. I spun around to see Balin, strapping his boots on, with Annie fussing over him. He had a scar over his eye that hadn’t been there the day before, and a haunted look to his eyes. With a grunt he stood tall and activated his golden armour. Then he smiled broadly. “I got a new Milestone yesterday, so it’ll be a cinch!”
My heart dropped. The thought of Balin running back into that horror show, in the blind hope that they’d find and close some rift that may or may not exist…
Annie looked like she was feeling the same. She had a professional smile on her face, but I could see the sick worry behind her eyes.
Elijah ran forward and clapped his hands on Balin’s shoulders. “You don’t need to do this. It’s our home, not yours, my friend. You’ve done more than enough. Everyone here already owes you their lives.”
Balin frowned. “Bah, there were more’n just me and you in there. Alla those adventurers helped.” He gestured broadly at the people preparing in the background. A few noticed him pointing and waved or pointed back, whispering excitedly to their parties.
Several other people at the table stepped forward. Two humans dressed in the garb of Easterners, and another in Western Kingdom garb. They joined Prince Elijah around Balin. “You’ve done enough, Goldenlight.” One of them, a burly Easterner with an acceptably large beard, thumped his fist against his chest. “Let us protect our friends and family.”
“Shoveoff,” Balin growled. “I’ve made friends in that city too, y’know. And I’ll not stand by while monsters threaten innocents. Besides, if we can’t clear ‘em out, we might be stuck in here forever.”
“Balin,” I whispered hoarsely.
“Don’t try and stop me, Pete,” Balin pushed Annie’s gripping hand off his shoulder. “Tha Gods give us power so we can stand up at times like this. No, they give it because we’re tha kind ta stand up when it counts.”
I looked back down at the map, where a portal to Cascadia sat in a sea of white. My brother was going to go in there, and if I knew him, he’d keep looking for the rift or die trying. He’d already lost his whole family once to monsters, and if he could stop it from happening to anyone else, he would.
“Fine, I won’t stop you,” I said.
“Pete!” Annie protested.
Mirelda was approaching us, carrying a platter with breakfast on it. She looked worried as she scanned what was happening. I thought back to a little roundtable of the Chosen from earlier this month. Of what had been said. Of power, and when it was necessary.
“But yer right. They give us these Abilities so we can use ‘em.” I whirled on the elven general, or whatever he was. “If you know where tha rift is, do the chances of the expedition survivin’ go up?”
He nodded, cautiously. “Yes… by at least fifty percent. There’s a world of difference between a thrust spear and a questing sword.”
“Fine.” My resolve firmed. Screw subterfuge. At this point, anyone who really mattered knew who, or what I was already.
I pointed at the map, my finger only shaking a little. I looked up to the sky, and demanded from the Goddess of Spirit, “Where’s this goddamn rift, Midna?”
The annoying gelf scoffed. “What, do you think Midna herself is going to answer you? This is ridiculous, the Gods don’t get involved in matters like –”
I tuned him out as a notification appeared in my vision.
*Bing!*
[Deific Revelation]
Do you want to use your [Deific Revelation]?
The most appropriate God or Goddess will answer in an appropriate manner.
Do you accept?
Yes/No
Yes, I thought, fiercely.
There was a flash of light on the table, and another flag appeared on the map. There were gasps around the table, and the gelf actually squeaked.
It was a small blue flag, with a shimmer to it and it waved in an unfelt breeze. The word ‘rift’ was written on it in golden lettering. Melodramatic much? I thought.But there it was. The rift was located in a small, nondescript closet on the third floor, about halfway across the palace from Cascadia’s portal.
“There’s your rift,” I hissed. “Make sure my brother comes home alive.”
