In the sun-baked city of Al-Lazar, where the Dust-scented winds from the fields mingle with the sea air, the cooks of the city practice salt cooking. The people there have perfected the use of salt, not just as a method of seasoning, but as a way of cooking.
The process begins with a thick layer of coarse salt, heaped into a sturdy iron pan and heated over a roaring flame until it glows with an intense heat. The vegetables, Rakwas, a hardy root from the desert’s edge, and other fare, are then placed directly onto the blistering salt. The salt acts as a conductor of the heat, cooking the food quickly and evenly without the need for oil or fats.
The high heat sears the outer layer of the food, locking in moisture and enhancing the natural flavors. This results in dishes that are both flavorful and succulent, if a little salty.
- The Fanciful Travels by Beron de Laney 376 AC.
With the nameless Boss down, all that was left to do was to take what I could carry back with me. I looked at the massive wolves, noting that one of them was hobbling pathetically along. Casting a Sage’s Sight on one and a simple Identify on the other, I found out that they were both called uninspiringly Dire Wolves.
Dire Wolf - (Greater Canid - lvl.18)
Health: 179/288
Stamina: 24/43
Mana: 4/6
Fearful Howl (lvl.3)
Rending Bite (lvl.4)
Dire Wolf - (Greater Canid - lvl.20)
Health: 243/320
Stamina: 28/43
Mana: 6/6
How interesting, it seemed that monsters, or beasts, had skills in this world.
I simply could not leave them here, it would be unfair and cruel to waste the remaining bounty of experience points before me. Besides, I had no idea how to look after the pair. However, most importantly, I already had a pet in Patches the donkey. Hopefully, the noble beast was still alive. And donkeys, well, donkeys hated canines.
Best to take the path of least resistance.
I took out the dark wolf with a quick Rush Strike, easily braining it with a powerful blow of my hammer. The wounded white wolf I experimentally used Holy Strike, noting that the skill could be activated without Holy Aura. It gave a final whine as the miniature explosion of holy energy snapped its neck.
You have slain a Dire Wolf 50 experience gained.
You have slain a Dire Wolf 55 experience gained.
A man could never say no to over a hundred points of experience.
I looked across the needed devastation that I had wrought. Dead bodies lay strewn all over the underground hall, and the smell of fresh death permeated the air. A few of the surviving serving staff remained cowering in the corners or hiding beneath tables. They had soon learned not to try and leave without my permission.
Tempting though it was to loot everything of value that wasn’t bolted down, that wouldn’t have been the action of an agent of the Council, I assumed. Still, it did not mean that I couldn't loot anything at all.
The boss’s fang necklace drew the eye, and I decided to see if it was worth anything. By arcane means, of course. I had plenty of Mana and there was always the option of using Greater Drain on a few of the remaining survivors to top up.
Tuskboar Necklace - Strength of the Woods [Magical]
Durability: 83/90
+5 Strength
Ahh, along with his twin blades this must have been the big man’s source of confidence. What a big cheating lummox.
Splurging on Mana, a rare luxury, I cast two more Mage’s Sights on his weapon. I ignored his wooden armor, because well, it was broken for a start and it was not like I could easily bring it with me. I really wish Patches, or failing that, Kidu was here for times like this.
Coldiron Scimitar - Dusk [Magical]
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Durability: 400/400
Keen Edge
Coldiron Scimitar - Twilight [Magical]
Durability: 400/400
Keen Edge
I snorted, amused by the weapons’ pretentious names. Dusk and Twilight indeed. Thinking that perhaps Larynda would have a use for them or I could easily sell them somewhere, I sheathed them into their wooden scabbards and attached both weapons to my belt.
Trying to look official, I patted down the corpse and was able to find notes and coinage of an approximate value of five gold in value alongside two potions in metal vials. A quick sniff of their contents and a look at the nobs near the top of the stoppers proclaimed them to be a Health and Stamina potion respectively.
Somewhat annoyed I kicked the corpse. It was a shame that the useless brute did not have a Mana potion. Even in death, he was trying to inconvenience me.
With a sigh, I decided to stop dilly-dallying and cast Improved Entropic Aura. The waves of hungry dread burst out from me in pent-up joy. It felt as if I had become a conduit, that I was on the cusp of becoming greater. Blood and general viscera dried to a flaky crust before falling off me like dust as I shook myself.
It wanted more. For amusement, I decided to feed the beast, casting Decay on the corpse. The sweet and sour smell of rot filled the room, a smell that would have once provoked a negative reaction from me. Now, however, I felt calm and detached as if I were experiencing things as another person.
The magic of Entropy wanted more… there were still living things around me that could be reduced to a more final state. Irritated at these alien thoughts and feelings, I beat them back until they receded howling back into the corners of my mind. Wanting to get away from the crime boss’s now bubbling corpse, I reined in my magic and undid the threads of the spell.
Without looking back, I exited the abattoir, a part of me regretting the flesh bags of experience I had left behind in the name of a weakly given promise.
*****
How long I spent bathing in the blood of my enemies was lost to me. Making my way back up, I found that the Snake’s Songbird was mostly empty, leaving only the larger pieces of furniture behind. Empty, save for one person. Larynda had chosen to disobey me and had remained. I hoped for good reason.
“I told you to go with the others… to the Begonia’s Shade,” I started, a touch of annoyance spilling into my voice.
“No you did not,” she replied bluntly. “You told me to go and protect Theo. That I did. What happened down there?”
Nonplussed at her direct denial, I found myself answering truthfully. “I killed their boss, along with a few adventurers who had thrown in with them. The boss had Dire Wolves or some sort of creatures with him. Killed those too.”
The Mage pursed her lips as she looked at me. “A Beastmaster? A warrior of the wilds… who’d have thought that the Bulls could draw in talent like that.”
“He had these,” I added pointing to the dual weapons at my hips. “And this.”
I showed the girl the Tuskboar necklace. She stared at it greedily.
“That thing’s got a real strong aura… can almost feel the Mana seeping off it!” she commented excitedly.
Despite myself, the blatant display of avariciousness caused me to grin. As a gamer I fully understood her. “Here take it. Looks like you need it more than I do,” I offered. The girl needed the plus-five Strength provided by the necklace a lot more than I did.
The girl took it from me with almost shaking hands and wore it about her neck. She clapped in glee.
“The power… I feel… feel stronger?” she said, a mix of awe and curiosity in her voice.
The grin turned into a knowing smile. “That is what it is meant to do. I believe that necklace, along with these blades, was the source of much of his power,” I tried to say sagely.
“Thank you. Thank you!” she rejoiced.
It was important to reward your followers. The carrot was very much just as important as the stick.
*****
Night had fallen, but the streets were well-lit with the glow of both flames and crystal lights. The Necromancer's box had gone silent, the once-animated bony digit within now lifeless—a sure sign that our mission was complete. It was a curiosity, the dark mechanics behind its creations and function a total mystery to me. I would have to ask Vincenzio about it at a later date.
I removed my helmet, kept the face covering mail coif, and donned the black robes of the Necromancer.
With our faces still covered, we did our best to avoid the main thoroughfares. However, to my growing unease, I realized I had lost my bearings about ten minutes ago. I was thoroughly lost. Most disconcerting.
Added to this, I had the strangest of feelings that we were being followed. The paranoia had sunk its claw deep in me, and I often found myself turning back and on occasion scanning the rooftops. I had learned long ago to trust in my instincts.
But perhaps I was worrying too much. Was it simply because I was in an unfamiliar environment? The voices in my mind whispered these suggestions, assuaging my concerns.
Come to think of it, with the city so changed during my time in my Dust dream, I would have found it difficult to find my way alone to the Begonia’s Shade. It had been a good thing indeed that Larynda had been waiting for me.
We passed a beggar who professed to be a veteran of a war. He hobbled about on crutches. The sight made me feel a sliver of sympathy and I gave him a whole silver coin which drew a quizzical look from Larynda.
I had a soft spot for the broken and downtrodden of society.
“Why did you do that for? There’s a ton of people like him all about. You start giving to one, you got to start giving to the lot of them. Gods, I would know,” she shuddered in obvious distaste.
Perhaps, it was a way to assuage my passing guilt or simply a way to redeem myself to get some good karma, I mused. Instead, this was my cliched answer, “The greatest evil of all is when good men do nothing. Be proud of what we did this day, and when you feel the prick of guilt on your conscience, think of the future lives we have saved.”
I could almost imagine her reply, the words which were rising up to her lips. The denial that I was a good man. She said nothing, instead, pretending to digest my words. It has been a pit of patchwork moralizing, but it would have to do for now.
“We should think only of the things that we can affect and be affected by within our reach. Larynda, we did the right thing,” I added with as much conviction as I could muster.
She looked at me, not entirely convinced. No doubt, she must be feeling more than a prick of useless guilt, I thought. After all, this whole endeavor had started at her instigation. Not that I would tell her that, of course. There was no need to kick someone while they were down.
The girl led the way, the twin staves strapped to her back catching the occasional curious glance. I hoped they would not attract too much attention. As we walked, the streets began to look more familiar. We passed a water fountain I recognized—the yellow stone mermaid still perched gracefully atop a smooth rock, with a cascade of pure water pouring melodically from a pot at her side. Even at this hour, people were still gathering water from the fountain.
We were nearing the Begonia’s Shade. Hopefully, Niminia, Elenora, and the others who had chosen to come here were not causing too much of a scene.