High gloom, p.22
High Gloom, page 22
part #6 of The Bad Guys Series
"Green days are rough," a familiar voice said.
Rose sat down in her black armor, sliding her bowl of soup so it mirrored my own. She dipped her hunk of bread in, and ate a sopping bite.
"Not bad," she said. “So. You want to ask me about green days?"
"I'm assuming you means the flame," I said.
“It reflects his mood," she said.
"The—”
"We both know who I'm talking about."
I nodded. The Mad God.
"What does green mean?" I asked. "I mean—”
"Playful, usually. Can't really ever be that sure. Kind of the point of the ‘mad’ part of his title."
“Fair enough,” I said.
"Red is a safe bet it's going to be bad inside. Most people skip those days. Orange is normal. Yellow is nice."
"Are those all the colors?"
"You'd have to ask Gunduin. I'm sure there're rare colors, odd ones, but I tend to wait for green or yellow days."
"You're a mazer then?"
"I'm one of the few who go both ways," she said with the sort of smile that let me know she knew exactly what that sounded like. And she liked how that sounded.
"Maze and Gloom."
She winked at me. "Sure. There's adventure and money to be made in both. Why skip one?"
"Specialization?"
"Anyone who thinks they can specialize in the maze is an idiot. The maze does exactly what it wants when it wants, and there's no way for you to figure it out. Or understand it. You're walking into a god's playground — the best you can do is be prepared and be flexible."
"Wait, who's Gunduin?"
“The lightbringer archivist. He's in charge of tracking the maze."
"Tracking the maze?"
"Yep."
"What does that mean?"
"It means, uh," she saw someone approaching behind me, and whoever it was caused Rose to clam up with a smile.
I glanced over my shoulder and was mostly blinded by the perfect white armor before I could take in the poorly-shaven face.
Some lightbringer brute.
"You are summoned," the man said.
"Me?" I asked.
That was not the appropriate response. The brute grabbed my shoulder and hoisted me to my feet.
"Mind bussing my bowl?” I asked Rose as I was hauled away.
She just winked.
50
There wasn't much point in trying to talk to my new friend. He was definitely the order-following type, and on top of that he seemed to thoroughly enjoy frogmarching me through Gloomguard. Which was silly, since I was already in the building of our destination. But for some reason, he took me outside, "outside” that is, and then around the building to march me in through the official entrance. Then we went through all sorts of secure doors and hallways until I got dropped in a chair in front of the head lightbringer, Commander Rhal.
Rhal was scribbling in a ledger. She looked up in surprise when she saw me. She frowned at the thug, who was busy smiling at her.
"Polydor," she snapped, "I wished this to be a non-formal conversation. There was no need to drag Master Hatchett all the way here, so much as invite him to speak."
Polydor, the thug the size of a door, seemed suitably chagrined. He bent his head down to avoid meeting his commander's eyes, and then waited there.
"You are dismissed, Polydor," she said. Then she added, "Though I warn you to pay attention to the specifics of orders as they are given."
"Yes, Commander," he said, and promptly left.
"Apologies for that," Rhal said, and returned to her ledger.
"It's fine, I—” I started.
She held up a hand without looking up from her writing. I stopped talking.
I sat there for a long few minutes as she flipped back and forth through the ledger, comparing numbers and doing figures.
"Missed the one," I said.
She glanced up at me, and I pointed out where she'd made the mistake. She re-did the math, and frowned, did it a third time to confirm I was right, and shook her head. Then she continued on. A moment later, she set the book aside, leaving the pages she'd just worked on open to dry.
"Master Hatchett," she said.
"Commander Rhal," I replied.
"I find myself in an odd situation."
"Seems to be my perpetual state."
"A joke. Ha."
"No jokes then?"
"Perhaps better jokes, Master Hatchett."
"What's a dentist's favorite time of day?”
She just stared at me.
"Tooth-hurty."
She frowned. "No jokes, then."
“Sheesh, okay.”
"When you and your party arrived, you were all given the rote speech about what the requirements for being in Gloomguard are, correct?"
“Yup. It was--"
"I know both the speech and where it took place. And I know all of your people were there. I am actually going to amend something that was said there. I do not do this lightly, nor do I do it often. You have a party member by the name of Nox Kvist, yes?"
"Oh man, did he not show up to the defense? He knew-“-
She held up a hand. "He did come to the defense. And yet, I daresay it would have been better had he not."
"He's not much of a fighter."
"That is being polite, Master Hatchett. I have it here that in his attempt to throw a spear, he nearly fell off the wall and had to be rescued by two of my lightbringers who would otherwise have been actively engaged in the defense of Gloomguard."
"Sounds about right."
"He also soiled himself and created a slip hazard."
"More information than I needed on the matter."
"Please let him know he is not required to present himself for defensive purposes."
"That's probably for the best."
She nodded. "He is likewise barred from attempting the maze or traveling the Gloom."
"I might need him in the maze."
She tapped her fingers on the desk a few times.
"I do not like feeding the Mad God," she said after a moment. "But if your entire party is going to go, I suppose he could be permitted."
"What do you mean, feeding the Mad God?" I asked.
She just smiled. "Consider it a slip of the tongue, Master Hatchett. It is not something for you to worry over."
"Um, I mean, it sounds pretty worrying."
"I would like to commend you for your actions in the defense, yesterday” she said, pointedly changing the topic. "Normally such actions would warrant some sort of reward, and this would be the moment wherein we discuss that reward. However, I believe I know what you would ask fo—”
"Girg—”
“—and I cannot reward you in that manner."
"Why not?”
"Because I have already given you the price of admission. A price you have yet to pay. I cannot change that, nor would I."
"So there’s no reward? Or I need to come up with a different one?”
She nodded slightly.
"Just forget it," I said. "I don't need--"
“Perhaps you have forgotten where it is you are," Rhal said. "I do not say this to be patronizing; I just feel you need reminding. Gloomguard is a difficult environment to live in, for many reasons. Even my soldiers are affected by the timeless dark. Morale is one of the most important resources I manage here. You were a hero in this recent battle. Your actions altered the tide of the fight and did so in a way that exposed you to incredible danger. Right now, and aside from Polydor, you are thought of quite highly amongst my soldiers and the other Gloomguard residents. If I were to just neglect some public praising, it might become the belief that we lightbringers do not value heroism. I am speaking very plainly here to you, Master Hatchett, because I am starting to understand that your level is not commensurate with your status in this world. There is something very strange going on with you--"
“I—”
"I have my own ways of finding out the truth if I need to know it," she said, interrupting me. "All of this to say that we need to be seen rewarding you in some capacity."
"Can you vouch--"
She smiled but shook her head. "No. That is not something within my purview. As commander, I am the one to whom the vouching is done. However, I imagine all you would need do is ask someone, and you will find willing offers."
"Oh," I said, feeling a little better now. “Okay well, being that I'm partially here because of Nox, and you'd really rather he didn't leave his room unless absolutely necessary, do you have some rare books somewhere?"
"Books?"
"Or scrolls. History, magic tomes, anything obscure that’s written down?"
"I'm sure there are some such things within our treasury."
"Could I just take, say three things from the treasury?"
She thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Yes," she said. "Perhaps a bit generous on my part, but I believe that will do well."
She lifted a hand, and then a finger as if signaling someone. As if by magic, a tall man in white plate armor walked into the room and stood at attention next to the commander's desk.
"Baldewin," she said, "escort Master Hatchett to the treasury and inform Arnolt that Master Hatchett is permitted to retrieve three items of his choice."
"Yes, Commander," Baldewin said sharply.
He looked over at me. I smiled.
"Thank you, Commander."
"You are welcome, Master Hatchett. I presume I will see you again in the very near future, yes?"
"Yes."
"Best of luck, then."
"You too."
She pulled her ledger back over and went to work as I was escorted through the back door.
51
It was another series of hallways for me, which was always fun. White stone walls, double doors, murder holes, and then a series of stairs. We went down three flights before getting to another set of heavy doors. Through those and into an antechamber with manned murder holes all along the walls, and finally to another set of doors.
Baldewin muttered something at the door, some sort of secret word. The doors creaked open, and we went into another small chamber. In it, a man in armor stood behind a small counter reading a book. He slammed it shut as soon as we entered, and slid it off the counter smoothly. Not so smooth was the thump as the book hit the floor.
"Arnolt," Baldewin basically barked at the other man, "this is Master Hatchett. He is permitted three items from the treasury." Baldewin nodded once sharply, and then walked back the way he'd come.
Arnolt, the man behind the counter, leaned over and watched Baldewin for a moment.
“A pretentious blowhard, that one," Arnolt said softly. He climbed over the counter and stood next to me. Arnolt was bigger than I thought, with wide shoulders on top of a barrel chest. He had a square face and a mane of dark curly hair that flowed down a bit over his white armor. He wasn’t wearing his gauntlets; they’d been left on the counter.
He fiddled with a large ring of keys for a moment, laughing to himself.
Then he found the key he wanted, and held it up. I saw that there were only two keys on the ring — he'd been goofing around.
I liked this guy.
He unlocked the large door and pushed. The whole door didn't move, but a smaller door that was hidden with the larger door swung in.
"Come on," he said with a smile.
I followed, insanely curious, and I stepped through the small door into a large hall that had to be as big as any airplane hanger. Just an enormous space. Pillars were spaced evenly, but I couldn't see the back wall. I lost count of all the shelves, surprised that every last one of them were full.
"What is all this?" I asked.
"Stuff," Arnolt replied. "Some of it magical, some of it neat."
"Where—the Maze?”
"Mostly. Some from the Gloom. Some from traders. Some just found and brought here."
"And now”?
"And it just sits here."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "That's something above my pay-grade."
"And I can take any three things?"
"Apparently."
"Is it organized? I mean, I could lose a week in here."
"I'm reasonably sure there's at least one person lost in here right now."
"Are you—” I started to ask, but then saw his face.
Arnolt winked. "It's somewhat organized. What I do, really."
"You're the archivist?"
"No, I'm the treasurer. The archivist plays with paper one level up. I play with things in the basement. Big difference."
"You don't seem like the other lightbringers.'
"Maybe that's why I'm in the basement."
I was about to say something about how stuffy the rest of the lightbringers seemed, but I didn't want to be that guy. Arnolt could talk smack about his fellow lightbringers, but I was in no position to pass judgement. Which made me realize I probably should have stuck up for Nox. Even if it was true that Nox wasn't good in a fight. He was a liability--
"What's on your wish list?" he asked.
"Uh, books," I said.
"Uh books," he said, looking at the shelves. "This way."
His metal sabatons clinked lightly on the floor, and he led me a goodly distance through incalculable wealth until we stood at a shelf filled with books. And small open chests, also full of books.
"Here you are," he said. "Uh-books. Anything else? Great."
He was already walking away before I had the chance to say anything.
I just looked around, unsure of how to proceed. It would have been better if Nox could've come down here. I slipped into magesight, and was immediately blinded by the magic all around me. Nearly everything in the room had some degree of magic, including the books. I picked up the most brilliant of them, and then went back to normal sight because my eyes were burning.
It was a big tome, like a medieval bible. The pages were yellow with age, and the lettering across the worn leather covers was hard to read, but had been gilded at one point. I could almost feel the power in the book.
Book
Well, that was pointless. I really needed to learn a decent identify spell.
"Arnolt," I shouted, "can you identify things?"
"Yes!" I heard a voice shout back.
I heard his sabatons clinking on the stone floor again, getting louder as he returned. He pulled a small basket from the end of a shelf, and pointed.
"Item for identification in the basket," he said.
I put the book in the basket.
He closed the lid of the basket and tapped with his foot. I felt a jolt of arcane energy.
"Done," he said.
"Why the basket?"
"Keeps a cursed item from blowing up."
"What if it's bigger than the basket?"
"We get a larger basket."
Then he walked away.
"Do I call you for more identifications?" I called after him.
"Worked this time, didn't it?"
While I appreciated the laid-back attitude Arnolt applied to his job, it was also a bit annoying.
I retrieved the book from the basket.
The Book of the Nameless One
Item Type: Legendary
Item Class: Book
Material: Bound in Elf Leather, human-skin parchment, written in blood taken from unwilling virgin sacrifices—
Yeah, that was a no. I put it back on the shelf.
Next book up required another visit from Arnolt.
I watched him work in magesight, but once again, it was simply too fast for me to follow. I think because it was such a simple spell that was such a basic element of his job, he'd mastered it to a point where I wasn't going to be able to break it down.
The Grimoire of Varnock the Cruel
Item Type: Unique book
Item Class: book
Material: cow leather, donkey parchment
Description: A book of spells and spell theory written by Varnock the Cruel. Spells are all focused on inflicting pain and torturing.
Nope on that one too.
After five books, Arnolt appeared with a slim volume in one hand.
"You're a spell caster, right?" he asked.
"I am," I said. "A little."
He held the book out to me. "Consider this a gift from me — not one of your three items."
"What is—”
He stomped off.
I looked at the book.
Look at that, you’ve learned the spell: Greater Identification
Greater Identification allows you to examine things and know certain traits. At higher spell levels, you will gain access to additional information.
Well now, who knew being an annoying snot would wind up being the way I learned the spell!
It was a painful spell to learn, being that it seemed to be a rather powerful version of the spell, but I was thrilled to be free from ignorance. Time to identify ALL THE THINGS!!
Which I promptly started to do, because what better place to practice greater identification over and over and over and over again?
I was like a kid in a candy shop — except I didn't get to eat the candy. The metaphor really falls apart there. Still, I was excited, learning about all sorts of amazing things.
There were grimoires of all types, and while I could definitely use a few, I was looking first for something to keep Nox out of trouble, which meant a book of spells was not on my shopping list. Instead, I started working through non-magical books. And, fun bit of the identification spell, it gave me a little synopsis about each book. Not a ton, but just a taste. There was an interesting book on the history of realms which all seemed to have passed on, a book on sea monsters of the various oceans, a cook-book using bits and pieces of monsters.
After identifying nearly every book in that line of shelves, I found what I was looking for: a massive tome on kobolds. It was both a present for Nox and a way to annoy him at the same time. Double score!
I moseyed along the shelves, looking from left to right, seeing what else was available, identifying anything that caught my eye. Sure, I ran out of mana and had to stop for horrible headaches and recharges, but it was worth it because I got to know things!
