25

  The Echoes of Adrathis

  These are Legendary Items

  These are Priceless Items - they may not be sold or traded

  These items are lootable

  Once, in the years before the Ascendance, the island city of Adrathis was home to the gods. Here they walked among men, at the centre of a great empire that spanned the world. In the halls of the imperial palace, where the First Father and his children kept counsel, many mortals served the celestials. Among them were scholars, mages and warriors of legendary renown. One such man arose from the ranks of the Whispers, Adrathi assassins whose task it was to remove obstacles to the empire’s power. He was called Weaver, and he was a man of two minds. One was ruthless, efficient and cold. The other was filled with despair that was born of his distaste for taking lives. He struggled with his great talent, his duty to ruthless gods, and his secret desire to be free of a life that was marked only by a trail of the dead.

  Weaver’s skill and cunning made him the deadliest among the Whispers, which in turn made him the envy of his brothers and sisters in the order. What enraged them further was his softness and self-recrimination. His hatred of what he was. How could the greatest among them despair at his own power? It was a betrayal the Whispers could not stand for, and it’s said that on the night of the great festival Vedicta, beneath a new moon, the whole of the order hunted Weaver through the streets of Adrathis.

  A running fight ensued, and many Whispers fell, but the ultimate outcome of this battle is not known. The Whispers would speak nothing of it, and Weaver was gone from the pages of history. Some say he defied the gods themselves, while others say that his despair led him to take his own life. Whatever the truth, he was erased from the Records of Adrathis and his name was lost to all but those who knew him best.

  These were the daggers Weaver wielded in the time before his fall, called Ruin and Regret, collectively known as the Echoes of Adrathis. These black blades vanished along with their wielder, gone from the world for centuries. They have now found their way into the hands of a kindred spirit, but it remains to be seen if the new wielder can bear the burden of their legacy.

  Great power carries a heavy weight, and only one who comprehends the cost of their skill -one who walks the line between necessity and regret- can wield these blades without being consumed by them.

  Note: When equipped, these daggers will bond to their wielder, taking on a new form unique to their user. Fulfilling certain conditions may unlock additional properties.

  Ruin: +3 to Stealth, +3 to Cunning Strike, +5% dexterity. Each successful strike with this blade has a chance to inflict Rapid Decline on the target. Each stack of Rapid Decline increases the target’s vulnerability to further attacks by 10%. Stacks up to five times. Duration: 20 seconds, refreshes with each additional stack.

  Regret: +3 to Daggers and Short Swords, +3 to Dodge, +5% movement speed. Each successful strike with this blade has a chance to inflict Despair on the target. Each stack of Despair saps the target’s willpower, lowering their movement speed by 5%. When Despair reaches 3 stacks, they may be expended to absorb a portion of the target’s health or mana. Duration: Until expended.

  My fingers hovered above the blades, and I felt them reach out and pull on me; on a part of me that was a storm of conflict and determination. They would bring focus to that storm, I could feel it, but they required something in return. Something I couldn’t yet identify. I didn’t equip them. Not yet. It felt distinctly like there was a line that would be crossed when I did. The description was truly ominous. A pair of weapons named Ruin and Regret were going to bond to me? This sounded like some cursed shit. I studied the blades with something akin to longing before I closed the lid of the black and silver case and pulled it into my inventory

  Like Smokeshadow, Weaver was a broken assassin. His tale was yet another tragedy bathed in shades of grey, and it felt like I was being pushed to pick up a torch dropped by these two dark figures. In my present circumstances, I could relate so clearly to both of them that I almost ached to take it up. Both had died unfulfilled, subjected to unjust forces beyond their control, lost on dark and winding paths. I couldn’t explain it, but we shared something across time. I drew in a breath, and released it, trembling just slightly as I slowly came to a realization. Three spirits, linked by a need. A longing.

  A chill ran through me. Redemption Arc.

  I looked up, intending my gaze not for the audience, but my sponsor. I could feel their eyes on me. There was some silent expectation there, lingering. A challenge. Like an opponent was across from me in a game of chess, awaiting my next move. I didn’t understand the mechanics of what had happened, or how these weapons had found their way to me. Here. Now. Of all times, in all places, the mask and the blades had come to me. Was I drawing these dark artifacts to myself? Was I being pushed towards them? I was filled with foreboding.

  “Just what kind of game are we playing?” I asked the air.

  ***

  “Wait, what? You people ride fucking dinosaurs?” I said incredulously as I stood gazing out over the field. “I feel like that’s a big thing to leave out, Gerard. How am I just finding this out now? Why weren’t there any dinosaurs in town?”

  “It’s extremely impolite to ride these creatures in town. Think of the mess. Besides, Spade’s Rest doesn’t have the facilities to accommodate them. Most folk don’t own them, only rent them from Halwik when they need to make a journey. He’s a breeder as well, and his Ketra are renowned for their intelligence and speed. They fetch a high price in Trayst.” He paused, looking over at me. “You don’t ride these where you come from?”

  “Uh, no. We have horses. And camels. I think some people ride donkeys, which appear to be slightly less dignified. No offense, donkey-riders. Anyway, we did have dinosaurs, but they went extinct way before humans ever came around. We only really know anything about them thanks to paleontologists digging up their bones.”

  I was, in fact, looking out on a field of god-damned dinosaurs. I stood in awe of the creatures. They were scattered across a wide open field that had been clear-cut from the forests that surrounded Spade’s Rest. These were not huge predatory dinosaurs; they were clearly herbivores, and they stood tall and slender on two legs, with long necks and tapered snouts. They weren’t feathered, but scaled. They were a sandy colour shot through with crimson, almost like tiger stripes. They were like small Hadrosaurs, but without the crest that swept back off their heads.

  I took a moment to reflect on the strange, chaotic beauty of this place. These ancient creatures, so long faded from my Earth, injected a sense of wildness that echoed the broader dangers of this world, but also its wonder. I was truly on a different planet. Another god-damned planet. I was living, breathing, and fighting on another world. I was looking at bloody dinosaurs. I knew magic. I could fucking teleport. Nothing about this was normal, and yet here I was.

  This is what I do now, I thought, and I felt both saddened and proud. This is where I live now, and I fight monsters. I fight fucking people. I stared out at the creatures with a sad smile. “When I was five,” I said to Gerard, “dinosaurs were the most badass thing imaginable. This is like a childhood dream coming true right here. This is a Jurassic Park moment.” I closed my eyes and took a breath, then opened them. “If only I had the theme music,” I said sadly.

  Allow me, said Sage in my head.

  To my utter and complete astonishment the god-damned theme song to Jurassic Park started playing in my head.

  “Holy shit,” I said aloud in astonishment. Gerard looked over at me and raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh, sorry dude. Uh…god stuff,” I said lamely.

  “Anything I should know?” he asked, brow arched.

  “Not this time. Don’t worry, I’ll share anything relevant. I promise.” I addressed Sage in my mind.

  “Sage, you can play fucking music?” My breath caught. Wait. Did you get my playlists when you heinously invaded my privacy?”

  Yes, and yes, she said simply. That data was collected alongside your other media preferences.

  “Totally worth it. We’re going to be exploring this at a later time.”

  Gerard was looking me over with skepticism, studying my new get-up. I had come out of the shrine looking even more evil. “Clothes make the man?” He said curiously. Sage helpfully faded the music out.

  “They really leaned into the Dark Souls vibe with this one,” I said ruefully. I looked down at the brand new black leather armor I’d just received in the shrine. It had light steel plating beneath the leather, but was remarkably light and strong, thanks to its straightforward reinforcement and featherlight enchantments. It was an order of magnitude cooler than my previous set. It even had its own cowl, completing the apocalyptic ninja-reaper look. It had straps and pouches everywhere, a bandoleer, and bits of black, tattered cloth that hung from various places for no reason I could fathom, but they looked pretty badass, blowing gently in the wind. With the mask, the whole thing would be quite dramatic. I would kill it at Comic Con in these digs.

  “You look like you intend to kill everyone in sight. For money.” said Gerard. I sighed.

  “Yeah, dude. I think I might be the villain in this story.” He gave me an odd look. He paused for a moment, then asked, “Are you okay, Luck? With what happened…I can only imagine how you’re feeling.”

  “Oh, I’m not even remotely okay,” I said quietly, looking over at him. “It was the worst thing ever, Gerard. In my whole life.” I looked down. “I won’t ever forget it. Not for a day.“ I paused for a moment, listening to the wind blow across the field. “I think I can feel it changing me. Like everything is different now, and I need to reconfigure myself.” I sighed. “I suppose that’s to be expected.” Gerard was silent, listening. “I feel guilty,” I said. “Guilty that I couldn’t save them, but in another way too. Like, how do I have the right to think about myself, my pain, when three innocent people lost the whole of their lives?”

  The necromancer studied my eyes, then looked down as he softly spoke.

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  “When we were seventeen, my twin sister died. Her name was Elena. She was beautiful, clever, funny and wise. Far wiser than I. She died under terrible circumstances.” His voice trembled as he went on, only a little. “She was part of me, Luck. Like a second heartbeat. When it happened, It was like the best of me was cut away. Suddenly, ruthlessly, it was just gone. I…found her. What I remember more than anything was how angry I was. I was so angry at her dull, lifeless eyes. Her stillness. How dare life leave her? How dare she leave me? It was a betrayal. That was how I felt.” After a long moment, as though he was debating whether to share the next part. “I began to study Necromancy not long after.”

  “And no,” he said in a hard tone. “I did not try to return Elena to life. I just…wanted to understand. I’m still trying to understand. And I wanted revenge.” This last bit was said with quiet regret. He drew a breath and released a deep sigh. “That’s another story.”

  I thought about Richard as he spoke. There was indeed a broader story there, but I didn’t press him. He looked back up. “We are left to feel the absence. That’s the price of love. We will ache our entire lives for the pieces that are missing. But we can take one comfort; that those we love are released. Their pain, at least, is over. That gives me some comfort.”

  I just nodded silently, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t a thing that could be addressed by a single conversation, but I clung to his words nonetheless, seeking some comfort of my own. I steadied myself and tried to focus. We had so much to worry about.

  I finally looked at the Ketra and pulled myself back into the moment. “So, are we going to ride dinosaurs into battle or something? That would be fucking awesome.”

  “No, these are purebred, Luck. That means profoundly valuable. They’re also not trained as combat mounts,” said Gerard. “They’d likely do us more harm than good when the goblins show up, and we’d bankrupt poor Helwik besides. I had something else in mind.” He turned and pointed, directing my gaze to another large field further to the south. It was dotted with what looked like bison, only bloody huge.

  “Are those Aurochs?” I said, mystified once again.

  “They are,” said Gerard. “There used to be many more, only farmer Mason lost half his herd last summer to Hempek fever. It was a devastating loss. He’ll be recovering for years. If any of us are still alive to recover anything, that is.”

  “He’s a farmer named Mason? That’s confusing,” I said. “Er, sorry. That’s very unfortunate, about the herd.” We gazed out at the huge creatures. “You guys get all the extinct animals, it’s bullshit.” I said finally. I paused. “Wait, are we going to ride this guy’s aurochs into battle?” I asked suddenly.

  “No,” he said absently, distracted. I then turned to find Gerard gazing back towards the town’s south gate. A small entourage of zombies were moving toward us, single file, shuffling like an undead prison chain gang. “You seem to have a strange fixation on riding things into battle, Luck.”

  “At least one heroic charge is on my fantasy world bucket list,” I said.

  “Listing fantasy buckets sounds fascinating.”

  “Wait until you hear items four through seven.”

  A familiar voice bloomed in my head. I’m very interested in this list, Luck. Would you care to share? asked Sage. She sounded decidedly suspicious.

  “Uh, nope,” I said quickly.

  How curious, she said. Perhaps I’ll query your predictive model.

  Shit. That asshole would sell me out in a second, just for kicks.

  “Uh, let’s stay focused, Sage.” I said soberly. “Eyes on the prize.” Sage’s silence was notable, but I took my own advice and focused on the approaching undead.

  I didn’t recognize any of the zombies headed our way from my short time in the town. I figured I must have missed them, or maybe they’d been tasked with something out here during that time. I had no idea how many bloody zombies the necromancer had in his employ. I looked more closely at the undead. They were all carrying a very specific type of tool. My eyes widened as I realized what the necromancer was planning.

  “Oh shit,” I said, looking over at Gerard. “This is going to be really fucked up.”

  ***

  “So, I can teleport now,” I was saying to Squish, who seemed duly impressed when I demonstrated, blinking away and bursting back into reality ten metres away. I didn’t fall over, thankfully, but it could have been smoother. “You’re starting to look like an Imperial Thorn, lad,” said the zombie marine, looking me over as I walked back. We were hauling a wagon into position on one of the streets leading to the main square of the town, setting up a barrier where the defenders could fall back as we hopefully drew the goblins in, as per our working plan.

  I frowned. An Imperial Thorn? It had been a Nithian group called the Thorns who had ousted the Veilblades from their lonely mountain fortress.

  “A Thorn, eh? What were those guys like?” I asked curiously.

  “Were? Are, lad,” he said as he brushed his gloved hands off. “There’s one attached to every platoon in the Nithian army. Navy, too. They’re a nasty lot. Knives-in-the-dark types, only with magic too. Folk say only the Adrathi Whispers could compare.” He looked over at me as he pulled a bail of straw and began stuffing it under the wagon. “There was a city in Nevarr called Ardeste. Biggest port on the southern coast of the continent. We anchored within sight of the city after we knocked out most of the Nevarran navy, and the emperor ordered in the thorns. Ardeste was the pride of Nevarr, with some of the best fortifications in the whole of Turos, excepting maybe the imperial capital in Nith proper.”

  I handed him off another bale of straw as the zombie continued.

  “So, in went the Thorns. Ten in all, over the walls and straight into the city. Three days passed, and there were 25 dead politicians, a general, and a governor. The city fell without the marines drawing a sword or firing a bolt. We made port with not a man or woman lost,” said Squish.

  “Jesus. It sounds like the CIA could learn a thing or two from these guys,” I replied ruefully. “They’re big on regime change. No magic though, thank god.”

  “The emperor is as canny as they come. He won’t use a sword when a needle does the trick.” The zombie and I moved to join three other townsfolk constructing the third fallback point coming in from the north wall. The people, two human men and a woman, eyed me warily as I came to help. The woman moved to stand on the far side of the men, further away from me, and I frowned as their chatter went silent. One of the men, a twenty-something slender man with narrow features and long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. He spoke past me to Squish. It wasn’t lost on me that the townsfolk were more comfortable speaking to a zombie than they were to me.

  “Tell us true, Squish. Can we really do this? More than one of us is talking about making a run for it. Belen says we’ve better chances running south than holing up and letting the gobs come for us,” said the man. Squish straightened and looked at the man steadily.

  “Ren my boy, those little green fucks ain’t gonna stop here.You fight ‘em now or you fight ‘em later. This is the game, they’re making a play.” The zombie walked over and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. Ren flinched a little, but listened.

  “If you ran, you’d be traveling with children and the elderly. Naturally, it would be everyone’s highest priority that they escape.That’s sensible, at first glance. But if Spade’s rest fights with fewer defenders, on account of those who run off, then that just means the town falls all the faster. Goblins can travel quick and light, and it won’t take them long to close the distance between this town and your group of fleeing villagers, who’ll be escorting the young and the frail.” He turned and gestured to me.

  “Luck here has made the unfortunate discovery that these gobs are after flesh. More specifically, your beating little hearts. That means they’ll be plenty motivated to come chasing you, Renly. And, like I said, even if you made it south, you’re just delaying the fight. Stand now, where we’re strong. We live or die together, lad.” He paused for a moment. “Well, a number of us are already dead, but that’s beside the point.”

  Renly took all this in, looking queasy. He and the others were silent, their brows creased as they continued to work on the barricade.

  Every gate, excepting the south, was fortified as much as possible using what time we had. The outer walls were now ringed in a trench and a great hedge of thorns and brambles summoned by Quicklily, which would prevent the goblins from climbing the walls. The idea was that this would channel them to the gates, where they would concentrate their attacks. If and when the gates fell, we would make a fighting withdrawal back towards the centre square of the town, fighting the influx of goblins from each of the fall back positions.

  The spaces between houses had largely been sealed off except for a few narrow alleys defenders could pass through to move between defensive positions. Platforms and simple walkways had been constructed atop the roofs for archers, who would be able to move from rooftop to rooftop as the fighting progressed inward.

  All told, Spade’s Rest could muster about 85 active defenders with a number of people in support roles or protecting the vulnerable townsfolk who would be in the cellars. Each cellar was located in a home or building that faced the central square. Our plan was tremendously risky and depended on a few critical factors, but we had to work within our constraints. These people were in the safest places we could provide under the circumstances. If the goblins got to them, it would be because all the defenders were dead.

  ***

  “Ready, Sage?” I asked.

  Ready when you are, she replied.

  “Okay,” I said aloud to Lily and Gerard, who were standing with me in the main square. It was edging into mid-afternoon, and the town was still abuzz with activity. “This is probably going to be really weird for you two. Try to relax when things start appearing, and we’ll go over them one at a time. You’re going to get an invitation to join my party, just focus on the “yes” text and imagine yourself tapping it with your finger,” I explained.

  “Okay, do it,” I said internally.

  Sending invitations, said Sage.

  Gerard and Lily were both frowning, staring off into space.

  Gerard Val Torn has joined the party.

  Quicklily has joined the party.

  “Shit!” said Gerard, flinching back suddenly. Lily took a literal step backwards.

  “Gods,” said Lily, looking around with wide eyes.

  “Okay, take it easy. It scared the crap out of me the first time too,” I said, looking between them. “This is called the HUD. You guys would probably call it “god eyes” or something weird, but HUD just means Heads-Up Display. It’s like a magical feedback system that helps you manage your resources. More importantly for us, it lets us communicate and see each other’s status over a distance. We need that tonight.”

  I went on to explain the individual elements of the HUD, and the two proved to be quite adaptable. I figured their world’s regular use of magic made something like this more plausible, if a little disorienting.

  “Check this out,” I said. I had the benefit of Sage having prepared me for all of this in advance. We had finally decided that forming a party was necessary, and I had proposed the idea to the two adventurers, who were wary but amenable.

  Luck: We get a group chat! There’s even a voice option. We have a limited range, but it’s not bad. Just imagine the words appearing in the box.

  Quicklily: HPHFL lkjio khMM INALLTHE GODS NAMES

  Quicklily: FUCKING GODLINGS. CAN’T WE JUST USE OUR BLOODY MOUTHS?

  Gerard Val Torn: Gods, Lily. It’s like you’re yelling.

  Luck: Right? Bad manners, Lily.

  Quicklily: I HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN THE GOBLIN EARS LUCK

  Luck: I feel like we might end up in an endless spiral of revenge if we keep walking this road. One of us has to rise above the conflict.

  Quicklily: Is that a joke about my height, godling?

  Luck: …no?

  The pair soon discovered that they had stats, and that they were able to see mine. We were a bit like kids trading Pokemon cards as we compared and contrasted our numbers and skills.

  Gerard Val Torn: My charisma is higher than yours, Luck.

  Quicklily: My intelligence is much higher.

  Luck: Rude. You two have known about stats for two minutes, and you’re flexing on me?

  Gerard Val Torn: It’s important you have a realistic understanding of your limitations.

  Luck: My dexterity is more than both of yours combined!

  Quicklily: Apparently that’s very helpful for your Cutpurse skill. How curious.

  Luck: That skill is not representative of my moral stance on private property, Lily.

  Gerard Val Torn: Morals? Weren’t you just bragging about being a mage-assassin?

  Luck: The morality of it all depends on who you assassinate.

  Gerard Val Torn: That sounds dubious and self-serving.

  Luck: Dude, you’re a zombie overlord.

  “Don’t deflect, Luck,” said the necromancer aloud as he lit a cigarette.

  We had all been standing in complete silence, about a metre away from each other, staring off into space as we chatted. We were like a group of kids locked into our phones. It turned out that partying with an unproven granted the party members access to not only group chat, but their statistics and status screens, skills, and even the quest system. Sage said they could even collect quest rewards from a special representative at the Adventurer’s Guild. I didn’t know how their loot would compare to my own, but I was happy that the two could benefit from this beyond their standard pay as adventurers.

  “Okay, I think we’re settled with this. The communication factor is the most important part,” I said. “If you two are going to finish up here, then I think it’s time I get to work.”

  “Good luck, godling,” said Lily. I gave her a determined nod.

  Gerard took a long pull from his cigarette, and smoke billowed out up into the air as he spoke. “May the shadow embrace you, my friend.”

  “Jesus. My friend the necromancer is telling me to embrace the shadow. I really am the bad guy.”