High gloom, p.13
High Gloom, page 13
part #6 of The Bad Guys Series
“Ah. You are new here?” He asked as he dropped off the other side of the counter and walked over to a tall wardrobe.
“Arrived today.”
“I take it, then,” he said, touching the wardrobe, then shaking his head slightly and moving to a second one, “you’ve discovered the perils of living this far down under a hole to the upstairs, eh?”
“It is a bit slick out,” I said.
“Wait until winter,” he replied. Then he opened up the second wardrobe. Boxes poured out, burying the hapless frog. He managed to eke out a shout before disappearing. “Wrong door!”
I waited a heartbeat, wondering if I should hop the counter to help him. But then the boxes exploded away in a blast of pink light, shooting around the room and bouncing off the walls.
He stood up, did a little waving of his stick, and all the boxes went back into the wardrobe. The little frog wizard shoved the door shut with more than a little display of force.
Phagoris gave me a smile as he moved to the third wardrobe. He opened it up, this time cleverly standing to the side.
Nothing happened.
Phagoris leaned around to peek inside.
A stack of boxes fell out, right onto the frog.
I frowned, wondering if this was, perhaps, some sort of act he did for new customers because it just seemed a little too much like a routine.
He pushed the boxes around, and then brought one over to the counter. He hopped up, and opened the box, and proceeded to pull out boot after boot, lining them up along the counter in a rather nice display. There were ten options for me to choose from.
“Here we go,” he said, “boots of all styles for the adventurous elf. Boots of False Tracks. Boots of Speed. Of Striding. Of the Ice. Spider boots. Soft Boots. Hard Boots. Boots of Leaping. Standing Boots. Boots of Darkness.”
“Um,” I said, “I need something to help me keep grip on floors, I guess.”
“Ah, right. You did mention that.”
He pushed aside most of the boots until there were just two remaining.
“Soft Boots,” he said, gesturing at the first pair that looked a lot like the boot version of slippers. “Soft, as per the name, comfortable, and able to maintain grip on nearly every surface. Also, warm.”
“Nearly every surface?” I asked.
“Well, there are a few things the Soft Boots don’t seem to like.”
“Such as?”
“Moss. Mud. Things that get them dirty.”
“I haven’t been around much of Gloomguard, but it doesn’t seem like the most mud-free place.”
“You are likely correct about that. Can’t remember going outside lately, but last I recall, it was quite, erm, moist?”
“Yes.”
He threw the Soft Boots over his shoulder, and they curved mid-air to disappear into the still-open wardrobe.
“Perhaps I have but one option, then,” he said, gesturing at the only remaining pair. They were a shiny black, with coarse large hairs coming out. The laces were a dull grey with an odd sheen I hadn’t seen on string or rope before. “Spider boots. Rather rare and hard to make. Made from genuine narglewebweaver. Sticks to anything.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Can you walk up walls?”
“Your feet certainly can. Whether you can hold your body horizontal, that’s a bit up to your strength score, eh?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“They also give you decent protection against natural poisons, and they look fantastic, if I do say so myself. Easy to clean and keep your feet dry.”
I picked one up, surprised at how light it was. The bottom was, in fact a bit sticky, and the tops were very smooth. Inside the boots were smooth and clean.
“Are you sure these aren’t, I mean, super expensive?” I asked.
“I seem to recall you saying that Rose offered to put it on her account.”
“Sure, but I don’t want to take advantage of her or anything.”
“Bah! I owe her enough that you’ll be doing me a favor taking these boots.”
“You owe her? How—”
“She’s a frequent visitor to the Maze. Brings back excellent items.”
“And you buy them.”
“Of course. I’ll buy them off you as well, should that be the way you’re headed. So, boots?”
“Sure,” I said.
I took the boots.
Spider Boots
Item Type: rare
Item Class: Magical Footwear
Material: Narglewebweaver Leather
Durability: 2800/2800
Weight: .8 lbs
Requirements: n/a
Description: Supple boots made of a strange dark leather. Will stick to any surface.
When I put them on, they seemed to alter their size to fit me perfectly.
I did a bit of jumping around . It was a little odd because there was the slightest bit of stick, but I could get them to come free with just a thought.
“These are fantastic,” I said.
I got a wide smile from Phagoris. “How lovely!” he said. “Best of luck with not falling over!”
“Thank you.”
I wondered why everyone always wished each other luck down here, but just before I walked out of The Wizard’s Tower, I paused.
“Would it be possible to start a tab here?” I asked.
Phagoris looked me up and down. “I suppose. A mite bit unusual, but I suppose if you’re a friend of Rose, I can always ask her to pressure you to pay.”
“I just need a little thing.”
“It is rarely the size of the object that determines its worth.”
“I need something identified.”
He smiled, and waved a hand across his face. “Oh, that. That’s usually free if you’re making a purchase or a sale. And since you technically just bought something, it’s free.”
“Oh, that’s awesome! Thank you.”
He waved his hand again and the gestured at the counter. “Just set the item on the counter, if you please.”
I put the ring I’d taken from Pretoria the mer assassin onto the counter. It had been bugging
Phagoris looked it over a few times, getting down on eye level with the thing and poking it with his stick.
“A very interesting item,” he said. “May I ask where you got this?”
“Uh, sunken treasure.”
“A lucky find.”
“You’re telling me.”
We both stood there, awkwardly smiling.
“It’s done,” he said.
“Oh, damn, sorry.”
He shrugged, and I grabbed the ring.
Pugorim’s Ring
Item Type: Epic
Item Class: One-handed Ring
Material: Schlaan Ivory
Durability: 450/2500
Weight: 31 grams
Requirements: none
Description: A ring which acts as a portal to an extradimensional space wherein you may store two hundred discrete objects.
“This thing is amazing,” I said.
“Don’t suppose you’re interested in selling it?”
“Not yet, but I might.”
“Very popular item,” he said. “I’d probably be able to give you top chit. Not like what that fool over in the general store would do. He’s a charlatan when it comes to magic.”
“You’ll be my first stop if I decide to sell.”
He gave me a slight bow and a big froggy smile.
“Good luck out there,” he said.
“Uh, you too,” I replied.
I made it all the way to the door before I remembered what I was doing in the first place.
“Just one more question if you don’t mind,” I said.
Phagoris looked up from picking up boxes. “Sure,” he said.
“Do you know someone named Girgenerth?”
He dropped the boxes.
“Uh,” he started. I could almost feel the lie struggling to come out. “No. I mean, I’ve heard the name. It’s familiar, but, I, uh, well—”
“Who is it?”
“I, uh, well, you see. There is, maybe, that is — allow me to start again.” He cleared his throat. “You will have to speak to the lightbringers about that.”
“Oh, is Girgenerth in jail or something?”
He opened and closed his mouth a few times, and then tilted his head to the side. “It would seem that is all I’m permitted to say on the matter.”
“Odd.”
“Isn’t it?”
I nodded. “Thanks anyway,” I said.
“Good luck out there,” he said again, and went back to cleaning up his shop.
30
I went back to the main office building, through the main entrance and into the large room full of people sitting uncomfortably at desks while wearing armor. They all looked a bit bored. I went to the one with the shiniest white armor, and sat down across from them.
The man had shoulder-length blonde hair that flipped up at the ends just a little. His chin was robust and his jaw was wide, and somewhere along the way he’d decided a blonde mustache you could barely see was a good idea. The man looked up at me with a mixture of curiosity and surprise.
“Is there an issue you need addressed?” The man asked. “A wrong to be reported?”
“You’re a lightbringer, right?” I replied.
“That is correct,” he said with more than a little pride and a lift of his head. “Lightbringer Third Class Turalt de Valles.”
“I was told to ask you — I mean, not you specifically, but any lightbringer — about Girgenerth.”
There was a collective intake of breath from the room, which was a clear indication that everyone else was eavesdropping.
Lightbringer Third Class Turalt de Valles blinked several times, as if that would somehow make things clearer for him.
“I do apologize,” he said, clearing his throat, “I am afraid I must have misheard you. Would you mind repeating yourself?”
I leaned across the desk until I was what you might term uncomfortably close to the man. “Girgenerth.”
“Oh. I suppose I did not mishear.”
He tapped on his desk, and then opened a drawer and looked inside. Then a second drawer.
“I,” he started, and then stopped. “A moment.”
Turalt stood with a smile, then quickly walked across the room, disappearing into a white door.
I sat there, watching everyone watch me. It felt just like middle school. As I made eye contact, they each quickly glanced away as if they hadn’t been staring. Subtle, these lightbringers were not. I had the feeling they weren’t chosen for their people skills, given the arms and armor about them. And the complete lack of social graces amongst them.
An awkward amount of time later, the door opened again, and a different lightbringer walked out. Lightbringer Third Class Turalt de Valles sheepishly followed behind. The new lightbringer was a bigger man with armor that looked incredibly well-used. There were all sorts of scars and dents across it, with different shades of white paint doing a poor job of covering them. He had a well-worn sword at his side, and an intense face that didn’t look like it knew how to smile. Based on the scruff on the man’s face, he also didn’t know how to shave. He had mid-length dark hair that was disheveled and unkempt.
“You are?” He demanded as he stood in front of me.
I stood up, but he pushed me back in the chair with a dismissive shove.
“Answer first.”
I didn’t like the lightbringers.
“Clyde Hatchett.”
“Arm,” he said.
I extended my arm out, and pulled my sleeve back.
He gripped it, and I could feel the rough leather of his gauntlets as he turned my arm over so he could see my wrist. I felt a flash of heat, and my indicium flared. He looked at the ornate “B” on my GloomGuard pass, and frowned. He released my hand, and started walking back to the door.
“Come,” he said without looking back.
Lightbringer Third Class Turalt de Valles gave me a wan smile as he sat back down at his desk. But he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
I walked off after the big guy.
He led me through tight and twisty halls until we got to another sitting room. There was a small portcullis hiding in the doorway, as well as murder holes sprinkled along the walls.
The big guy gestured at a small stool.
“Wait,” he ordered. Then he slipped through the only other door in the room.
I sat and waited.
And waited.
I started to play with magic while I waited, sending tiny motes of light around the room in various colors. I made them in different tiny sizes, seeing how small yet bright I could get them, and then spelling out various curse words from the Old World across the wall.
The door opened suddenly, and I dispelled all the lights.
Big guy glared at me.
“She will see you now,” he said.
“Girgenerth?” I asked.
He frowned, but didn’t answer.
I walked past him into a very utilitarian office. A large desk sat in the middle, with two chairs in front of it. There were two other doors in the room. A large warrior in full armor stood in front of one. My guide, the unnamed poorly-shaved fellow, took his spot in front of the other.
An older looking woman with streaks of grey and white in her otherwise blonde hair sat at the desk. Like all the other lightbringers, she wore white plate armor, and looked just a bit uncomfortable wearing it. But unlike all the others, her armor had glints of gold filigree, and as I peered closer I could tell that the armor was beautifully wrought. She was scribbling something on a piece of parchment furiously.
I sat down in one of the chairs, and waited. Again.
After a moment, she finished writing, took a shaker of something and shook it out over the paper. Something, I guess, that helped the ink dry faster.
She then folded the parchment, grabbed a stick of wax, and lit it on fire. She let it glob onto the parchment, and pushed her ornate ring into it. Then, she handed the message out, and my guide took it and went through his door.
The woman took a moment to clean the things off her desk, and then looked up at me.
“Clyde Hatchett,” she said. “Is that correct?”
“It is.”
“From Glaton.”
“Yes.”
She nodded, and leaned back in her chair. I could see a helm hanging from a strap on the back of the chair.
“What is a level nine rogue from Glaton doing in Gloomguard?” She asked.
I tried to hide my surprise.
“Well, I heard the weather was fantastic this time of year,” I said, “and that I really needed to see the sunsets.”
One corner of her mouth turned up ever so slightly.
“Why have you been asking after Girgenerth?” She asked.
“Because I want to speak with him,” I said.
“With Girgenerth? Why?”
“Someone asked me to come here to talk with him.”
“Interesting. I was under the impression that those upstairs weren’t overly aware of Girgenerth. Who asked you to speak to Girgenerth?”
I took a breath to stall. I felt like I shouldn’t divulge The Fayden’s role in this. It certainly made me wish I still had the paired journal to write back to him. It was really damn annoying to be going this alone right when I needed him.
“My mentor,” I finally said.
“Are you going to reveal your mentor’s identity?”
“Are you going to tell me where Girgenerth is?”
She tapped her fingers on her desk.
“What’s the deal?” I asked. “Who is this guy? Is he some horrible wizard you’ve got locked away?”
“You don’t know who Girgenerth is?”
“No. Isn’t that, I mean, I’ve been asking if anyone knows the guy and I’ve just gotten the run around like I asked to take a bunch of your daughters home with me.”
“You put me in a strange position, Clyde Hatchett.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t even know your name to say it in a patronizing tone, unnamed lightbringer.”
That got a smile from her.
“I am the commander here. Head Lightbringer, Anthoinette Rhal,” she said. “You may address me as Commander Rhal.”
“Okay, well, Commander Rhal,” I replied, “you’re putting me in a weird position too.”
“I suppose that it is mutual. Part of our job here, as lightbringers, is to protect Gloomguard. But Gloomguard is not just a means of entering and exiting the Gloom. There is much more to this small outpost than that. I cannot allow you access to Girgenerth, nor can I allow anyone to speak to you about Girgenerth—”
“Come on! I—”
She held up a hand and raised an eyebrow. “I was not finished, young elf. If you are able to prove your worth to the lightbringers and Gloomguard, my hands would no longer be tied in that matter, and I might, thus, allow you access.”
“So Girgenerth is here.”
She gave one slight nod, but that was it.
“What do I need to do?” I asked. “I need to see the guy, so give me whatever quests you need doing.”
“Very well,” she said. “First, you must bring back a titled trophy from the Gloom. Second, you must brave the Maze. After you have done both those, you must get a first-class or higher lightbringer to vouch for you. Those three things will grant you a second audience with me where I will judge your worth. You will only get one chance at this, so make sure you feel you are ready when you request that second audience.”
You have been offered a quest by Commander Rhal:
A Quest of Worth
You must successfully brave the Maze. You must successfully bring back a titled trophy from the Gloom. You must get a first-class, or higher, Lightbring to vouch for you.
Reward for success: Access to Girgeneth
Penalty for failure (or refusal): Death? Loss of Self? Unknown.
Yes/No
“Do you agree to these terms?” She asked.
“Seems a bit steep to me,” I replied.
“These are the terms. You may also simply stay here for the weather and the sunsets, if that’s what you so choose.”
