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Chapter 9b - Secrets and Promises

Chapter 9b - Secrets and Promises

Being the tallest, Glade strode toward the telltale orange glow, giving the loose board a thorough inspection. Years of experience in dealing with some of Earth’s worst morally corrupt individuals had instilled in him a level of caution that likely toed the line of some disorder or other. At least, that’s what his appointed therapist had told him.

“What are ye waitin for?” Krazzik asked, his excitement for whatever lay behind the panel evident by the way he shuffled from foot to foot.

“Leave him be Kraz,” Bragden grumbled. “He knows what he’s about. Ye think the dogs would leave anything o’ value that poorly hidden and not have a nasty surprise in store for would be thieves?”

Those were Glade’s sentiments exactly. That sixth sense of his was practically screaming that something wasn’t quite right.

Everyone else seemed to have the same thought, but instead of heeding Bragden’s warning they all leaned in for a closer look as if proximity would grant them insight and immunity from whatever danger might lie in wait for the unsuspecting.

“Why doesn’t everybody take a couple of steps back?” Glade asked, suddenly feeling crowded.

“I say let ‘em get their noses cut off or eyebrows singed,” Bragden growled. “Obviously, each and every one o’ them need to increase their wisdom and intelligence stats. There be no better way than firsthand experience.”

It didn’t escape Glade’s notice that the surly dwarf was the only one safely tucked away in a corner of the room.

The others looked at one another clearly wondering who they were talking about.

Giving the group a nonchalant shrug, Glade drew an arrow from his quiver and began poking around the loose board.

Over the next few seconds Glade learned at least three new curse words as the others scrambled out of the away.

Chuckling to himself, Glade put the arrow back and pulled out his combat knife. After a minute of close inspection, he inserted the tip of the blade gently into a well-worn portion of the seam separating the wall and the board. For the next several moments, he gently pulled the board away from the cabin wall until there was a wide enough gap where he could make out a semi taut cable connected to the board.

A rudimentary trap, one he had seen in the real world plenty of times. Better yet, it was one that could be easily disarmed.

Congratulations! You have gained the skill Detect Traps! Never again will you be caught by someone short sheeting your bed or tricked into stepping on a burning bag of dog excrement to put out the flame! I can’t believe you used to do that when you were younger. Seriously, what happened to you in the last 10 years? You used to be fun! Either way, now you’ll be able to prevent others from retaliating against you if you ever start up your shenanigans again. +2% detection of traps per skill level.

Glade rolled his eyes, briefly wondering which of the Adjudicators had sent him this particular prompt. It most definitely wasn’t Acumen. That pompous prick couldn’t crack a joke even if the fate of the universe was at stake. Credos was similarly off the list. Not that he couldn’t tell a joke, but because the Adjudicator seemed too uptight for something this childish.

Trying to push the random thoughts demi-god humor from his immediate attention, Glade dismissed the notification.

Before he could decide if it was better to just cut the cord or try and lift it from the catch, Kedryn interrupted him.

“Sir?” the Corporal called, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “Sorry to interrupt as I see you’re about to disarm whatever it you see there. But before you do, is there any chance you can show me what you’re looking at? I’d like the opportunity to gain the detect trap skill if at all possible.”

Glade opened his mouth to dismiss the idea out of hand but caught himself. Kedryn had just asked him a few minutes ago to teach him what he knew. Normally, he would just take care of the situation and move on. It would be different if they were in a rush or in immediate danger. But the fact was, they weren’t. They had plenty of time. Besides, it would be a good thing if others gained such a useful skill.

“Does anybody else want to learn the skill?” Glade asked, looking around the group. Everyone, even Bragden, stepped forward.

Doing his best to channel his inner Mother, Glade began to teach.

20 minutes and several restarts later, everyone had earned the detect traps skill and Glade had just finished walking Kedryn through how to disarm the trap.

Congratulations! You have gained the skill Disarm Traps! You have shown requisite knowledge and understanding to disarm basic traps, though your teaching technique can be greatly improved upon. +2% chance more likely to disarm traps per skill level.

Glade dismissed the prompt with a snort. Yeah, that one had come from Acumen. He could tell because it was short, sweet and prickish.

After the initial trap had been disarmed, Glade had Kedryn step back so he could do a more thorough examination of the area. Finding no other traps, he pulled off the cover to reveal a recessed cubby that held a strong box the size of a loaf of bread and a simple dart trap.

After another careful inspection, Glade carefully lifted the iron banded strongbox from its hiding place and carried it to the table. As far as strongboxes went, he supposed it was in good condition. No chips in the wood or rust anywhere he could see. The hinges had been well oiled and the padlock was large and intricate.

As he set it down on the table everyone could hear the unmistakable clinking of coins.

“Now that be music to me ears!” Krazzik said cheerfully.

“The dart is covered in stone scorpion poison,” Riya interrupted, drawing everyone’s attention for just a moment as she turned the trap over in her hands. “It’s not particularly lethal, but it is known for causing an immense amount of pain if it gets into your blood stream.”

“That be good to know…” Krazzik said, then turned back to the box. “So, who wants to smash this thing open?

No one moved toward the strongbox.

“What’s wrong with everyone?” Krazzik said. “I’m I the only one who’s excited about this?”

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“Doesn’t this seem… too easy?” Kedryn asked tentatively.

“The Gnoll’s didn’t strike me as particularly smart,” Krazzik snorted. “I doubt they trapped both the cubby and the strongbox!”

“No, they weren’t smart,” Glade said, his gut telling him there was something more he wasn’t seeing. “But they were cunning. If they hadn’t been so arrogant, we would have likely been the ones to die, not them.”

He had checked this one for traps, but he hadn’t found anything. Of course, that wasn’t saying much.

“Bah! Let’s just break it open with a hammer. I done seen one outside. If’n there be a trap, it won’t hurt us,” Krazzik groused.

“What if it is a magical trap?” Riya asked, her brow raised. “The Gnoll with black robes had access to both shadow and abyssal magic.”

“Then we’ll take the box back to shore and drop it off one o’ those small cliffs. Let it shatter on the rocks,” Krazzik said with a shrug as if that solved everything.

“And if there is something breakable inside? Like a frost breath gem?” Riya asked.

“Would ye stop coming up with what ifs? We could play this game all day and get nowhere! Let’s just break it open already!”

“There is some value to being a bit cautious my friend,” Glade said, placing a hand on Krazzik’s shoulder.

Turning to Bragden, he asked, “Can you sense an enchantment on the box?”

“A magical trap is more of a spell than an enchantment,” Bragden replied. “Which means the answer be no. And before ye ask, sensing magical traps have never been part o’ me Aura Sense skill either. Some Astral mages can, but most be smart enough never to run into magical traps to begin with.”

Krazzik grumbled something about beardless gnomes, which riled up Bragden. Knowing that he was about to lose control of the discussion, Glade cast Manipulate Mana in the hopes that he could confirm or deny that the box was indeed enspelled.

He was so very glad he did.

“I can see something inscribed on the padlock,” Glade said, his spell clearly showing a circle of flowing black runes covering the face of the padlock. A creeping feeling came over him as he studied the circle. Somehow, he knew that if he tried to manipulate it with his magic something bad would happen.

“Really?” Bragden asked, his typical scowl replaced with one of immediate interest. “Can ye draw it out for me?”

Turing over one of the maps, Glade quickly sketched out a rough drawing of the circle, runes and all. It was honestly a great deal easier to do since he had gained the drawing skill.

“By the Mother,” Bragden breathed. “Do ye know what this is?”

“Ye know we don’t know what the slagging circle o’ mysterious runes be! Stop being such a slagging doomsayer!” Krazzik snapped. “Tell us already so we can bypass the trap and get to the thrice damned treasure!”

“Ye want the short version? Fine!” Bragden cried, throwing his arms up in the air. “It be an abyssal summoning trap! Ye happy!? Me guess is that if’n ye don’t have the bloody key attuned to the slagging lock some fiend or another will appear once we try and tamper with the slagging thing!”

A collective groan escaped the group.

“Does anyone remember if Mr. Black Robe had a key on him?” Glade asked.

Everyone but Kedryn shook their heads no.

“He had some gold which we split with Krazzik and his clan, two magic rings that we still haven’t been able to identify, and a small chest that Patch helped us open. The chest had a mana gem…”

“Which he claimed as a clan resource,” Krazzik sighed. “I didn’t want to tell ye about it, hoping ye’d honestly forget.”

“I did forget,” Glade laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I care more about my friends than any amount of treasure. No, I’m not worried about that. Unless we can find that key, I strongly recommend we don’t try and open the box…”

“What about the hinges?” Kedryn suddenly asked. “Are the hinges magically trapped or sealed?”

Glade looked over the strongbox with his mana sight. The hinges weren’t glowing. In fact, nothing else except the padlock was glowing.

“No…” he began.

“I’ll get the hammer,” Kazzik cried, rushing out the door.

“I’ll find something to remove the pins!” Kedryn called, rushing after the dwarf.

“It can’t be that easy,” Glade said, giving the others an incredulous look. No one, not even Bragden, could see why they shouldn’t try so long as they didn’t pry tinker with the padlock itself.

Twenty minutes later, the group successfully pried open the box. While the hinges had seen better days, they were still serviceable so long as they didn’t do any more damage when they tried putting them back together. More importantly, the padlock lay undisturbed.

Of course, nobody was looking at the state of the strongbox.

“I call dibs on counting the gold!” Kedryn called, snatching one of the eight pouches from the box.

“Dibs?” Riya asked, giving Kedryn her usual ‘you’re weird and I want to study you’ sort of look. “Is that another of your Earth sayings?”

“That be a lot o’ silver!” Krazzik said, sorting through the remaining pouches. “And even more copper!”

“I have some gems over here,” Glade said, pouring out a handful of well-cut gemstones.

“What have we here?” Bragden said, a pleased look on his face. “Two scrolls of identify magic up to tier eight, one scroll of true sight, and a strange black book written in Free Script.”

Several minutes went by before they were able to total everything up. 36 gold, 123 silver, and 165 copper. Riya had helped him identify the gems, which in turn helped his Aura Sense skill grow. They had three garnets, two topaz, four beryls, five agates, two amethysts, and one sapphire, all of which were in various sizes and shapes. A small fortune in stones.

“Did you learn anything from the book?” Glade asked, looking over at Bragden.

“It be some sort o’ journal,” he said, flipping through the pages. “It’ll take some time to translate it, but from the sketches, it looks to be what led the Gnoll’s right to this here bay and to the catacombs beneath Storms’ Rest.”

“It’ll be interesting to find out what others know of our new home,” Glade said, eyeing the book with genuine interest. He needed to find the time to learn this new language, hopefully without using too many of his will points.

“Aye, and to find out who sent the Black Robe,” Krazzik muttered.

A great deal of shouting suddenly erupted from the deck, along with Gent’s bellow of “Keep him tied down!” followed quickly by someone else yelling, “Man overboard!”

Glade grabbed his bow and darted out the door, the others following right behind.

As they rushed from the cabins, they found a half dozen dwarves squaring off against an absolute giant of a man.

“HOLD!” Glade roared as he took in the situation, simultaneously readying an arrow and his telepathy in case he needed to quickly end the confrontation, which was the exact opposite of what they wanted to accomplish. They needed these sailors alive and willing to help them sail the ship back to the Free Cities. That wouldn’t happen if they had to resort to violence.

The sailor stood with his back to the main mast, his shaggy mane of black hair whipping wildly in the stiff breeze as his sharp, black eyes took in everything and everyone. It took years of intense training and experience to get to that level of awareness.

Glade should know, seeing as he used that skill almost every day.

Upon seeing Glade, the sailor raised his arms in a placating gesture.

“What’s going on?” Glade called to Gent, seeing the hunter throwing a line over the railing. Several other dwarves were pulling themselves off the deck, some with split lips and others with bloody noses. Nothing that Riya couldn’t take care of in a few minutes.

“This here be the ships Navigator,” Gent called back. “He just stormed out o’ the hold and started swinging those ham-fisted hands o’ his afore we knew what was happening!”

Glade remembered this sailor from the night before. He had been particularly troublesome to bring down resulting in having to use double the rope and securing him in the ship’s brig. Just how had he gotten out?

“Who’s overboard?” he asked.

“Croon!” Gent called back. “With any luck, his slagging accordion has sunk to the bottom o’ the bay.”

“Bad… dwarf…” the large man said in broken Dwarfen. A frustrated look crossed his face, like he wanted to say more but couldn’t. Clearly annoyed, the man tried pantomiming somebody singing then covering his ears. After that little charade, he continued.

“Make… many legs… angry. It come… if not stop.”

There was a pause as everyone looked at each other, then at Croon as he was pulled back over the railing.

“Did anybody get what the man was just trying to tell us?” Glade asked.

Riya stepped forward, speaking in flowing language Glade had never heard before.

The man’s relief was immediate as he quickly responded, his hands moving wildly as he described… something.

Bragden started roaring with laughter halfway through their conversation.

“What’s going on?” Glade asked again.

“Apparently,” Riya began, turning back to address the others, “our new friend Crixus here just saved us from something called a kraken. They are known to hunt along the coast for mammoth leopard seals. You see, they are drawn to loud,” Riya coughed, trying to maintain a straight face, “obnoxious noises, seeing as their prey usually bellow for long periods of time…” a snicker escaped her lips, “when they are seeking out mates.”

Every dwarf turned their incredulous gazes from Crixus to Croon, who apparently hadn’t heard a word of the explanation.

“Has anyone seen me accordion?” Croon coughed, wringing the water from his beard.

Crixus slumped against the mast, breathing a sigh of relief.