Dungeon Noble 2: Knight, page 45
Ivaldi went perfectly still for a moment before smiling broadly. “No, Jake Khesh. They cannot.”
“So, does that mean that The Great Dungeon runs the System?”
“You stray to the very edge of what I can tell you.” Ivaldi’s smile grew as he seemed to consider how to phrase his response. “The Great Dungeon doesn’t directly control the System. That is all I can say.”
Jake left Ivaldi’s with a clearer understanding of his role in everything, and a better grasp of how deeply the Triarchy had ruined his homeland.
All those Dungeons, most of them new replacements to those bound to higher-tiered classers, and all of them kept at the very base of their tiers for years on end.
Who knew how many would have advanced if only there had been a Dungeon Noble here?
It was a question to which Jake had never given too much thought, but now that he knew what was truly at stake, it ate at him. Decades of inactivity might seem like nothing to someone like Ivaldi, but Jake hated it.
He remembered his vision of reality from his Patron, of those things beyond the borders of existence, circling. Waiting. Hungry.
If the Dungeons kept that border intact, then Jake would bind every single one he could find.
A cold that went beyond the cool evening air seeped into Jake’s bones, and he hurried back to his companions.
“So, how did it go?” Alan asked, perking up as Jake joined them. “What did Ivaldi say?”
“There’s a lot I can’t tell you,” Jake said, taking a moment to separate out the things Ivaldi had shared with him into two groups: what he could share, and what would eat at his dreams. “Dungeons tier up, and then they move on. The one here is new altogether, just starting its journey.”
Realising that Jake had answers, they all jumped in with questions about the whole thing, only to realise that he couldn’t share much more.
Eventually giving up on it, they made their way back to the inn through the side streets and disused paths of the town. It wouldn’t do for them to be spotted by the guards just yet.
Once they were back, Jake used what Wyrdgeld he had to advance to the next rank, readying himself for what was to come.
In a fit of enthusiasm, Jake also brought both his Delver’s Will and Lesser Wyrd Manifestation Abilities to the fifth rank, while investing his Plexus Points into The Vengeful Serpent.
Using the points on Surtiss had been a tough choice, as it meant turning down a rank four Boon. Jake had committed himself when he took the Boon, however, and he intended to follow through on that commitment.
Moby had saved his life and been a surprisingly helpful combatant. If Surtiss could do the same, it would be worth far more than a more powerful spear or dagger.
Regrouping the next day, Jake found that Aspen, Gargan, and Alan had all moved to the third rank of their tier, and had improved their Abilities to boot.
Nepthys sat quietly in the corner as they discussed their changes, and Jake felt a pang of guilt. He disliked the feeling of leaving her behind, and he knew she hated it just as much. There wasn’t anything they could do right now, though. Even if she went hunting in the local area, there was too much chance of her being caught without them, or of them being discovered and having to run while she was elsewhere.
The focus had been on getting Jake to the third tier, so now it was time to do the same for her. He hadn’t told her of this part of his idea, framing it instead solely as a way for them to try and actually survive all this.
Jake knew little about Nepthys outside of their experiences together, but he knew she’d object to anything that felt like him putting his own goals aside to help her. This was why he hadn’t told her. Her success and advancement meant just as much as his own did, after all, no matter how much she protested.
The first stage had been getting the Dungeon to tier up, though that had been complicated by another Dungeon doing so elsewhere first. Hopefully, the second stage of the plan would be enough to counteract the muddying of the water.
Doing his best attempt at a whistle, Jake wandered into Casthorpe, using the main streets rather than sticking to the shadows and less-used paths as they had been since they’d arrived.
The Triarchy guards here were predominantly first-tier classers, and they were far from the elite of their forces at that, so avoiding them had been fairly straightforward so far. Now, however, Jake took great pleasure in seeming to accidentally walk out in front of one of them and gasp, locking eyes with the man.
Grey Wyrd flashed in the man’s eyes as he used some sort of Ability, and Jake smiled inwardly as he saw the guard’s eyes widen with shock. He had a feeling that the Ability had just marked him as a non-citizen, which was exactly what he wanted.
Turning on his heel, Jake ran back down the street, being careful to keep his pace slow enough to give the appearance of a classer midway through their second tier. There was no sense in giving away his actual strength just yet.
“Stop! Stop by order of the Triarchy!” The guard’s voice boomed out excessively loudly as he chased after Jake, alerting just about everyone nearby and achieving very little.
Waiting until he was out of view, Jake put on a burst of speed and lost his pursuer before shifting back to his more careful way of moving as he started back to the safehouse. His part was done, but each of his companions would do something similar throughout town.
None of them had paid the citizen tax in quite a long time, so they were all tarred by the same brush in the eyes of the average trike guard.
An hour from now, there would be a handful of sightings of non-citizen classers, and that, combined with the change in the Dungeon, would be enough to draw some serious attention.
They lay low after that, relying on Gordon and a few other members of the resistance to keep watch on Casthorpe and feed back what was happening. It felt strange not to do even a single delve each day, and after three days of waiting, Jake was all but bouncing off of the walls with pent-up energy.
It didn’t help that this damn waiting was the most agonising thing he’d ever done. So much was riding on his plan, and there were so very many things that could go wrong at almost any point. He’d listened carefully, judged, and made his call, but now, in the lull, he doubted himself.
Then, on the fourth day since they’d drawn the attention of the guards, Gordon came bursting into the safehouse. “He’s here!”
Jake lowered the dagger that he’d drawn, his heart pounding as he caught Gordon’s gaze. “Is it him, not just one of his people?”
“Yes, we confirmed it,” Gordon said, holding up a piece of paper. “This is where he’s staying.”
“Then we need to act now.” Jake was already on his feet and heading for the message he’d already written, and the carrier that Varin had fashioned for them. “We don't know how long it will take until he gets his bearings and finds us. If that’s even something he can do.”
“Gods, I’m trembling at the thought,” Aspen said with a slightly manic laugh. “What a fight that would be!”
“If it comes to that, you must all flee,” Ari said calmly, his tone almost serene. “I will hold him off for a while before they overwhelm me.”
“It won’t come to that,” Jake said firmly, strapping the carrier onto Moby’s foot and slipping the piece of paper into it before sealing the top with the cap that Varin had made. Ari’s newfound dedication was disquieting, but it was at least better than his drinking himself to death. “Now, Gordon. Explain the directions to Moby.”
Gordon did so, if a little self-consciously, and Jake checked with the duck to make sure he understood before opening the door and unceremoniously chucking him into the air.
Moby’s wings snapped out, and he took flight with a single reproving quack, the metallic effect on his feathers glinting in the sun as he climbed high into the sky and angled to head into Casthorpe.
“And the die is cast,” Jake said, turning to the others with a laugh. “I feel like I want to throw up.”
“You and me both,” Alan said, shaking his head and absently rubbing his stomach. “I’m going to get an ulcer at this rate.”
“We have some hours until we need to leave, yes?” Gargan asked, waiting for Jake to nod before going into the kitchen and retrieving mugs for them all. Opening his pack, the taciturn classer pulled out a slender bottle and poured them all a measure of clear liquid before knocking his back and refilling the mug.
“Now that’s a damn good idea,” Jake said with a chuckle, taking the mug offered to him and throwing back the slightly sweet liquor it held. The immediate burn in his throat slowly travelled down to his gut, warming him and settling his nerves a little.
As he’d said, the die was cast. Now, all that was left was to see where it took them.
Chapter
Fifteen
The hours crept slowly by, and with each one that passed without Moby dying, Jake felt his hope rise slightly. His worst fear was that someone would kill the duck immediately and ignore their message.
Of course, that didn’t remove the chance of the coming meeting turning into a trap, but Jake had taken what few steps he could to reduce that likelihood.
Then it was time for them to leave.
As hopeful as Jake was, he wasn’t foolish enough to do this unprepared. They would all go, and they would arm themselves to the teeth. If anything went wrong, they’d fight their way clear.
With four of them in the third tier, they would be a lot tougher than their enemies were expecting, and that was an advantage that Jake would exploit to its fullest.
Slipping silently out of the safehouse, they set off into the woods, making their way to their chosen meeting point.
Amusingly, Jake received a notification halfway through their journey, informing him that the Aptofir Veranis Dungeon had reached the next tier. That was the forest-based Dungeon here in Casthorpe, and would have been useful a few days ago to help their cause.
Still, it was another Plexus Point, so Jake would take the increase in tier with a smile.
Letting his mind wander, Jake considered what Boon he’d upgrade next. There were so many choices, and if he was going to get the occasional additional point from the Dungeons reaching their next tier, then it was worth considering.
Dauhaust’s Root seemed like a solid choice to increase next, if for no other reason that Jake used it the most. The spear was a dependable weapon, and the leeching effect it carried was both powerful and incredibly useful. Any additional source of healing was valuable, and Jake hoped that its effect would increase as the the Boon strengthened.
Jake mulled over the choices as he picked his way through the woods, keeping at least some of his attention on their surroundings. They’d orchestrated this to make it impossible for the Triarchy to know where they’d be meeting, but then again, with classers, nothing felt truly impossible anymore.
Going down that path would leave them indecisive and unable to do much of anything, however, which was why Jake was trying to change things around. If they were the driving force of what was happening, then it didn’t matter what odd powers or Abilities their enemies had—they would be reacting, not plotting.
That was the idea, anyway.
“We’re here,” Alan said, drawing Jake from his thoughts as they reached a small clearing in the woods. There was nothing particularly special about this spot, nothing that would make it easy to predict that they’d be here. In fact, they had chosen it only because a large tree had knocked over and uprooted several others.
From their point of view, it was the same woodland scene they’d been walking through all along. From Moby’s point of view, however, it was a visible break in the canopy, and would let the duck take a somewhat random route to meet them.
“Alright, let’s settle in then,” Jake said, perching on the trunk of a fallen tree as the others faded back into the woods. The first point of contact would just be with him. If things went badly, though, the others were moments away.
Jake was confident that he could survive the thirty seconds needed for them to come to his aid, especially with his new rank strengthening him. Each rank might only be a subtle increase, but they very much added up over time, and he’d found that his own hard work seemed to be magnified by them.
A hint of nostalgia played through Jake’s mind as he remembered his early morning runs with Karl and Felix. He’d enjoyed that part of being a classer—the advancement and pushing of boundaries.
Wings fluttered as Moby came out of the trees to land on Jake’s shoulder, and his heart skipped a beat. This was it. This was the moment that would decide how everything else went.
“So,” an unfamiliar voice spoke up as a man walked out from the treeline, his tone calm and measured. “You’re Jake Khesh, or perhaps you’d prefer Jake Chant?”
“I am,” Jake said, working hard to keep his voice calm and clear. “And you are Kirn Valnacht, the Hunter.”
Kirn was an unassuming, somewhat bland-looking man. His watery brown eyes were soft, and he lacked an imposing physique, looking more like a simple woodsman than anything. A dagger rested in a sheath at his side, but he’d brought no other weapons, just as Jake had asked in his letter.
“I’m glad we know each other,” Kirn said, walking calmly into the small clearing before coming to a stop about ten paces from Jake and clasping his hands behind his back. “You made a lot of bold statements in your letter. Do you think such baseless accusations will stay my hand?”
“I think you must at least harbour some suspicions, or else you wouldn’t be here.” Jake resisted the urge to swallow and ignored how dry his throat was. He could show no weakness, no apprehension, or else all this could be over in a heartbeat.
“Perhaps,” Kirn said. Something about his body language shifted as he seemed to give off an aura of barely restrained violence. “Or perhaps I just wanted to get within stabbing distance of the man who killed my grandson.”
Jake felt his throat tighten, and he froze in place, acutely aware of the fact that a fourth-tier classer was barely ten paces from him. Although Kirn didn’t look dangerous, Jake knew that the other man was stronger and faster than him.
“He was stationed at the outpost where your friend was taken,” Kirn said softly, his voice soft but unyielding as he took a step forward. “He was volunteering with the guards here to gain experience of life beyond what he’d known as a child. To better understand the tenets of Manos and Dranos. He died, butchered at his post, on the same night that you rescued your friend.”
Jake’s eyes were wide, and he could feel the change in the air as Kirn’s hand came down to rest on his dagger. Carefully, oh so carefully, he lifted his hands to show his empty palms.
“I didn’t kill your grandson, and neither did any of my companions. I know this for a fact.”
Jake felt every muscle tense in his body as Kirn took another step forward, somehow only three steps away now, despite Jake having only seen him move forward twice.
“How?” Kirn asked roughly, gripping the hilt of his dagger. He didn’t draw it, though, and Jake took that as a good sign. Not much of one, but he’d take it all the same.
“The only people we fought were the Fatesworne, and our allies only fought the Seeker who first caught Nepthys. The rest of the bloodshed was performed by the Fatesworne, who were trying to kill her.” Jake paused, trying to think of how he could convince the other man that he wasn’t just lying to save himself. “I swear this is true by my Patron, The Great Dungeon.”
Kirn’s frown had grown as Jake spoke, but at that last statement he looked shocked for a moment. “The Great Dungeon is your Patron? I was told you were a rogue Dungeon Noble with a proscribed Patron.”
Eager to grasp the tentative path to understanding, Jake called on the System to show the bare basics of his Class and showed them to Kirn.
Name - Jake Khesh
Patron Deity - The Great Dungeon
Class - Dungeon Noble - Baron
Tier - III
Rank - II
“This is not at all what I was told,” Kirn said, his expression turning grave as he backed away to give Jake his space. “You are faking this, somehow. You must be.”
“You know that isn’t possible.” Jake held his ground, knowing to his core that any uncertainty or weakness now would undo any positives.
“Perhaps.” Kirn was silent for a few moments before nodding jerkily. “I admit that I’ve seen things since arriving in Strovia. Perhaps not corruption to the degree you spoke of, but enough that it made me uncomfortable. Enough that I agreed to this meeting.”
Jake could feel that Kirn was wavering on the edge of believing him. He just needed to drive it home. “Nepthys!”
Glancing back, Jake looked to where she should be waiting and waved for her to join them. She did so, if a little reluctantly, and after a brief discussion, shared her own status with Kirn.
“An Inquisitor as well.” Kirn closed his eyes and took a deep breath before slowly letting it out and meeting Jake’s gaze with a much calmer expression. “I should have known. It made no sense that the Seeker took your friend to the outpost where my grandson was stationed if she was anything else. Manos guide me, I can not believe that they have had me hunting one of your kind.”
Kirn seemed to struggle with his thoughts for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodding firmly. “Very well, I realize now that the situation here is far worse than expected. I would like to hear more if you’re willing to share?”
Jake spoke at length, walking the Hunter through everything, from his initial testing all the way to Nepthys being captured and beyond. The older classer listened carefully, but the heavy furrow in his brow told Jake that he was shocked by what he was hearing.
Jake did some light editing to leave parts out, but he kept most of it in, especially the parts about the Corrupters and the Fatesworne working together.
“I don’t want to believe you,” Kirn said eventually. “I want to decry you as a liar, but as I said before, I’ve noticed things since my arrival. Manos and Disa must weep at the chaos that has spread throughout this land. If they even know about it.”
