In02vasion2, page 14
Task updated: Heart of Pimisti.
Description of update: The dwarfs refuse to acknowledge a completed task. You have the right to applyF to the deputy/or compensation. Additional condition: discover the reason for their refusal.
“Go, and do not return,” Bartil added in a strained voice. “The path to the dwarfs is closed to you both. You may keep the stone.”
We exited the industrial quarter surrounded by a dead silence, a stark contrast to the walk there, the traders no longer foisting their wares on us with promises of sizable discounts. Security saw us on our way. The wide gateway into the dwarfs’ sector was obstructed by two long halberds.
“Three paths are open to us.” Eredani looked thoughtfully at the clouds, which I’d noticed him do habitually when he was pondering. “The deputy, search for the reason, or forget it and do our own thing.”
“What? How?” Bartulun still hadn’t recovered from the shock. “We can’t go to the deputy. We must sort it. There’s something fishy going on. It’s never happened before, that the dwarfs reneged on their word. One, maybe. But all of them — impossible! I’ll go and see them myself and speak with each of them. Eyeball to eyeball.”
“Where are you going? They don’t even want to breathe the same air as you,” I said, attempting to help the bald dwarf see sense. He’d taken personal affront from his fellow clansmen more lightly than he was nowr stressing for his entire race. He ignored me, about-faced, and was gone in the midsts of the quarter. Thankfully the guards didn’t stop him, raising their halberds for a millisecond to let the shortie
slip inside.
“Five’ll get you ten Vardunas abducted the clan leaders and stipulated to the dwarfs that they couldn’t work with us. Running around Lok’dar looking for them was pointless.”
“We don’t even know-where their castles are,” I agreed.
“Why would you need to know7 that? It’s open source information. The clan registrar will tell you the coordinates of any castle.”
“How so? You mean to say Vardunas knows where our castle is?”
“Without a doubt. Which is why we must enlist the deputy’s support. We need protection, preferably in the form of assigned guards. But that’s all later. First we have to get into the castle, find out the coordinates so we can use teleport scrolls, and declare our rights. Ruard can wait its turn. We have the pirates to deal with before them.”
“So it would be logical to leave our bearded friends alone for a while,” I agreed with Eredani’s unvoiced proposal. “That’s the decision you were nudging me towards, yes?”
“Logical, yes. Correct, no. Don’t forget these are locals. If we roll over for one lot, others will also not want to work with us. The dwarfs are good masters, but there are plenty-more out there as well. I’m for the deputy.”
“What about this? I appeal to the messenger, I need your help!” I announced loudly, before quietly adding, “I appeal to the messenger Marcel!”
“You called, and I am here.” An unfamiliar melodic peal of bells sounded. “Should your appeal be considered insubstantial, you will pay a penalty.”
“You may go. I’ll handle this.” Close on the heels of the first messenger, another portal opened, and out stepped my old friend. The first messenger nodded and disappeared.
“I suppose you do have a substantial reason for summoning me,” said Marcel loudly, his eyes coming to rest on the kobolds. There was a hint of metal in his voice. “Have you become a slave owner?”
‘These are laborers, not slaves,” I corrected him. “I stole them from the demons, but I don’t knowhow the people of Lok’dar will react to them being loose, so I’m leaving them like this for now. I’ll take them out of town before I remove the chains.”
“A sound decision,” said Marcel, softening. “I’m all ears.”
“The dwarfs don’t want to fulfil their obligation. My advisor will explain the details.”
Eredani retold the events at Pimisti in colour, not forgetting to point out that Ruard had taken the area and didn’t want to clear it completely.
“Yes, that’s a substantial reason,” Marcel frowned. “I acknowledge your right to a fair trial. Go see the deputy, I see he’s expecting you. Industrialist cases must be presided over by provincial leaders.”
“You knowr the dwarfs would never have thought of it by themselves,” said Eredani in surprise. “Somebody’s intimidating them, and that’s your jurisdiction.”
“You had no right to turn to me!” said the irate messenger. “Eredani, first warning! Kvalen, has your question been answered?”
“Yes, messenger, thank you for the explanation.”
“Next time you summon me, kindly speak yourself, rather than using intermediaries. All the best!”
The messenger disappeared, and Eredani perched himself on the nearest bench with a protracted
sigh.
“I was mistaken. We can’t go to the deputy. I don’t knowT how much Vardunas put in, but the deputy-will tear us to pieces. And he’ll slap a fine on us for destroying the training camp. It was Bartulun who told about the heart of Pimisti, not the clan chiefs. Shoot, banana skins every way we turn.”
“Watcha sitting here for?” The voice of one of the guards brought us back to reality. “Roaming the streets with nowhere to go. You’d better get out of Lok’dar, half-demons!”
“Kvalen, we’re leaving the city now-.” Eredani sprang up and trotted high-spiritedly towards the tavern. The guards didn’t stop him, just followed him with a hostile stare.
A crowd of enraged citizens was waiting for us by the tavern. Picking up stones, they began to throw them at the kobolds. The spineless beasts’ HPs plummeted, but they didn’t try to protect themselves, simply huddling together with their backs to the onslaught.
“Stop it!” I shouted, pushing through the crowd. I had no idea what was happening or why people were so angry at us.
“Take your carrion and get out of here!” The barman was standing in the doorway of the tavern. Sleeves rolled up and hands on hips, he was trying hard not to join the townsfolk. Luckily they’d stopped their barrage. Although when the angry shouts resumed from the rear ranks, I realized we were in trouble.
“Out! Chase the demons out! Bum them!”
Eredani looked desperately for somewhere to hide, while I strode fearlessly to meet the people. The situation needed saving urgently. A stone flew by, narrowly missing my chest. It was dangerous to go on, so I shouted:
“Bartender, a mug of beer for everyone, on me! And don’t forget snacks! Get stuck in, brothers! Today I’m celebrating!”
Silence hung, the townsfolk staring in bafflement at a tiefling they’d wanted to stone a few seconds ago, but who was now treating them. Their wavering concerned me, and I was forced to add:
“Two mugs for everyone, on me! Five mugs to the first five lucky beggars to get to the barkeep first! Roll up, roll up!”
The magic word “freebie” worked not only in reality, but also in the virtual world. The crowd, thirst-crazed at the thought of gratis booze, flowed lava-like through the door, thoughts of me and the kobolds already behind them. The barkeep was nearly trampled underfoot, but he managed to step aside at the last moment.
“What’s with them?” I asked, unchaining the kobolds. They plodded meekly behind me, but too slowly. It would be impossible to run with them.
“Ruard tried hard. Vardunas clearly showed who the boss is here, and who the patsies are. I trust you finished your business in Lok’dar. We shan’t be back here for some considerable time.”
“I’ll need to get to the square on Wednesday...”
Accompanied by the dirty-looks of the citizens and the surprised looks of the players, we got as far as the gates. They were shut.
“There they are!” shouted the captain of the guard, pointing at us. “Arrest them!”
The two guards charged us with their halberds tilted forward, but they were beaten to it by Bartulun springing up between me and Eredani like a mushroom in autumn.
“I found out everything!” he whispered excitedly. “We went round it from both sides, looking for somewhere to run. Dead ends both sides of the gates. And the other side’s guarded.”
“What did you find out?”
The dwarf stood there, opening and closing his mouth. “Forgot...”
WTe started rushing around, and the baldhead was almost in tears, smacking his stupid head.
“Screwyou, Bartulun!” Shouted Eredani irately.
“In the name of justice!” The guards had reached us. “You are under arrest! Follow us!”
“That’s right!” exclaimed Bartulun. “Make yourselves scarce! The deputy signed an order for your arrest.”
The captain of the guard stepped out in front of his underlings.
“Myrtil, is that you?” Bartulun shouted to him.
“Bartulun?” he replied in surprise. “What are you doing in there? Move to the side!”
“I am moving, Myrtil! You just tell your guys to remove their tickling sticks. I don’t want to end up skewered. Who’s going to sew me back together?”
“Let him through!” the captain ordered. The dwarf leaped towards him and took his hand. Indicating for Myrtil to lean down, the bald dwarf whispered something into his ear. A purse twinkled, before disappearing from view into the captain’s hands.
“You can’t do that. We were just doing our jobs,” said the bribetaker for show.
Bartulun waved it away.
“Everyone does it. You’re the first deputy. How are you any worse? And your guys look like they could use a drink.”
The captain cleared his throat and ordered, “Let them through! We didn’t see them! Jump to it! You’ve got three minutes.”
I didn’t need to be asked twice, and I herded my flock out of the town. The gates closed, and Myrtil’s
voice boomed out, “Keep vour eyes peeled! The Tieflings must not get away!”
I sniggered. Barliona was displaying remarkable similarities to the real world. Where did they find these scriptwriters and artists advocating realism?
My train of thought was cut off by a level-280 player standing up ahead in the middle of the road at the very-edge of the safety zone. Whispering Wind’s countenance boded no well. We took a few steps back, but the gates behind us opened, and the whole crowd of guards spilled out with Myrtil at the head. The captain of the guard, who had just received a kickback for our freedom, gave the order in an unfaltering voice:
‘There they are! Arrest those criminals!”
Chapter 9
ALL SORTS OF THINGS came to mind; just nothing relevant to the situation. I was quite happy, for example, sifting through fixed phrases to describe wiiere wTe were, such as, “between a rock and a hard place,” “between the devil and the deep blue sea,” “between Scylla and Charibdys.”
Unable to think of anything pertinent, I turned in hope to Eredani. ‘This would be an ideal time for some advice.”
Instead of making sensible suggestions, my partner tugged nervously at the end of his tail and reeled around, looking in turns at Whispering Wind and the approaching guards, as if he couldn’t decide wiiich wras the lesser of twTo evils. Failing to get any sort of response, I opened the map to study the disposition. The safe zone girdled the city to a hundred meters out, and while we were in it, Whispering Wind was nothing to fear. On the other hand, the guardians wTere gaining on us fast from behind. I calculated the information as quickly as the most up-to-date computer, seeking an opportunity for salvation, and when the guardians wTere just forty meters from us, it seemed I found a wTay out. Right around the corner.
“Give me the glaive!” I demanded of Eredani. The plan required a weapon, and I hadn’t acquired one since my meeting with Plinto. My partner fumbled in retrieving the glaive from the inventory, gifting Myrtil and his boys an extra couple of meters, but threw it to me without question. I jumped towards the kobolds, took aim, and brought the glaive down with all my might.
Everybody froze. Even the guardians stopped as though they’d run into an invisible wall. Out of the corner of my eye I sawr their surprise, but had no time to be distracted. Standing in the middle of the flock of kobolds, I took aim and swung a second time. From the POV of the courageous fighters of Lok’dar, reactions w*ere meant to look as though I had lost my mind and begun to hack at the poor kobolds, turning them into meat. This allowed me time, so I continued to raise and low-er the weapon over and over, chopping aw*ay not at living flesh, but at the hemp rope binding the lizards’ paws. The emasculated creatures looked in distrust at their liberated limbs, too weak to break ranks or change the positions of their feet. This lack of yearning for freedom irked, and between strikes I tried to roughly push them apart, but they merely jumped aside and froze again.
When the last rope fell to the ground, I gave the nearest kobold a mighty hoof, and yelled with a month’s worth of built-up rage, “Why are you just standing there?! Run, you sheep! Save yourselves!
You’re free! Get out of here! Scram!”
Thank all the digital gods, the kobolds all leaped into action, creating just the chaos I was banking on. Forty emaciated but fearful bodies lurched in all directions, providing us with excellent cover.
“Follow-me!” I said to my partner, returning him the glaive.
“And me? What about me?” Bartulun’s voice came from beneath our feet. I grabbed him under the arms and nearly sat down under his weight. The little bald devil twitched, either uncomfortable with the means of transport, or unimpressed with the natural odor of half-demon armpits. I charged ahead in huge bounds, moving parallel to the city walls, knocking down stampeding kobolds on the way. However nimble the lizards were, they were nothing compared to tieflings saving their own horns and hooves.
The wall came to an abrupt end up ahead, turning right at an acute angle, so we ran to it to hide. According to my calculations, we should be out of view of the guardians for long enough to make it to our intended target — an old abandoned well at the side of the road. Because we were running downhill, I moved so fast that I couldn’t stop when I reached the well. In desperation I grasped with my tail at the metal frame, which wobbled, but held still. However, inertia whirled me and Bartulun headily around the well, and a hellish fire broke out near my coccyx, as if my tail and spine had been ripped out together and the bleeding wound doused liberally with vinegar. With the sound of a buzz sawT, I drew breath, liberated my tail, and threw Bartulun into the suspended bucket, before casting a couple of turns of the rope around the dwarfs waist.
“Hold your breath!” I ordered and, while confusion reigned, grabbed the baldy and threw him into the well along with the bucket.
“KVALE-E-E-EN!” came a lengthy yell. Well, that was how the system translated it, though I suspect Bartulun meant something else altogether, something decidedly invective.
“Down, pronto!” Without catching my breath, I dived headfirst after the dwarf. Braking with my splayed limbs, I did my utmost to smooth the ride. And I was doing just fine until Eredani stamped a hoof on me. My arms gave way, and I entered the water with the grace of a hippo, Bartulun burbling beneath me while Eredani crushed me from above. The well water stank to high heaven and was vile to the taste.
A ninety-second Breath countdown bar appeared, but my hooves soon found their footing. Thankfully it wasn’t too deep, and when I stood up, my head was fully above the water. I picked up the dwarf and held him above the surface. He spat, inhaled heavily, and was about to tell me all his deepest thoughts, when I hissed at him to keep quiet. Eredani’s head appeared alongside. He looked up and laughed, so I followed his gaze, and the site took my breath away. Though it was midday, bright stars twinkled at the end of the tunnel. A wondrous picture!
A few moments passed before the stars were occluded by a steel-helmeted head. “Hey, Tieflings, are you alive? Climb on out of there!”
We kept silent, and the guard ran to report. “They’re down there. They haven’t drowned or smashed themselves up, although they’re not saving anything. Mouths full of water most likely.”
Myrtil’s tousled head appeared. “Bartulun, come out! Or we’ll pin you with attempted escape. That’ll be another two years’ hard labor.” Eredani and Bartulun looked at me meaningfully.
Clan chat. Eredani: So this was your genius plan to escape? Is there no doorway here?
I shrugged. At least I’d had a plan. Truth be told, I’d been relying on being able to agree with Whispering, as well as the well-jump ridding us of the guards, but I wasn’t going to admit the plan was flawed to begin with.
Clan chat. Kvalen: We have to relax into it, so the system can recognize us as stuck, then we’re out of here.
Clan chat. Eredani: Back to the city? Straight to the guard. Excellent! You did a real good! Was it worth all the running, just to end up back in the hands of the guards?
Clan chat. Kvalen: At least I did something. What did you do?
Clan chat. Eredani: I stood by and waited for a reasonable opportunity to solve both problems!
Clan chat. Kvalen: Anybody can be a smartass post-factum!
Clan chat. Eredani: Damn right!
The tiefling closed his eyes and concentrated, after which he said barely audibly, “Abyssal, it is I, Eredani, oath-bound to Baal, who summon you.”
Nothing happened for a long time. My partner opened his eyes, trying not to meet mine, and peered anxiously upwards. The dwarf clambered up onto my shoulders, announcing he was now going to live there. I was about to ridicule Eredani, when from above came the sound of surprised shouts turning into screams.
“What’s that?”
“A meteorite!”
“It’s heading straight for us!”
“Run! Save yourselves!”
The stars disappeared and were replaced by one big, bright red star, which streaked past, just before a powerful strike shook the ground. It got us too: the water began to whirl, Bartulun fell from my shoulders, and we snatched at the walls of the well with our hands. No sooner had everything died down than a wraming siren sounded. Lok’dar was preparing to do battle with a terrible foe.
