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Gilgamesh [Grimdark LitRPG]
Book 4: Solving Problems

Book 4: Solving Problems

Many times have I counseled this esteemed body to bar entry to our glorious city for the Beastkin. Since time immemorial those blasted creatures have brought nothing but trouble to Al-Lazar.

As we all know too well, a countless number of their diseased ilk have taken refuge in our sewers. The Perfumers have observed that these creatures are almost entirely rodent-like in aspect. Also, according to the Adventurer’s Guild, they are a truly horrendous lot, feasting upon the flesh of anything or anyone they can lay their grubby paws on. Yes, even the flesh of people! Real people!

These wretched beings are a blight upon our fair city, and I implore the Council to take decisive action to expel these nefarious invaders from our midst. The very air we breathe is tainted by their presence, and our citizens live in fear of their nocturnal predations. It is our duty to protect our people and preserve the sanctity of our beloved city.

- From the minutes of the Council, attributed to Council Member Ibn Khaldun the Scholar.

The silence returned, almost profound, heavy with unspoken promise. Breaking it would be sacrilegious.

In that moment of frozen time, I took stock of my situation, trying to determine if I had suffered from a curse or been afflicted by a blessing. Most likely, an uneven combination of the two.

Five years had passed, or so they said, and I had no reason to doubt it. Larynda was living proof before my very eyes. But it begged the question: how was I even alive after five long years?

Then there was the problem of the Necromancer. I still needed him, for I wanted his scroll of Animate Dead to begin my first steps down that dark path. The quest demanded it of me.

“You were in a state of hibernation, what little energy and sustenance you required via one’s own spells. I was able to form a new spell construct, giving, rather than taking of raw life energy,” said the Necromancer as if reading my mind.

I kept my face smooth and expressionless. How convenient, I thought to myself. “So, you say. I will have to believe you.”

“Now, one must know… how much did you acquire in the Dust Dream? Were you able to learn Fen’s fabled techniques that humbled even the greatest of…” he asked eagerly.

Irritated at hearing praise of Fen, I cut in, “And was humbled in turn. I learned enough from her. More than enough to reach for the Gold of the Guild. By defeating legends you become one. You wished for me to enter a tournament, yes? Though five years late, will that be proof enough?” I deflected.

He rubbed his chin. “That you are here and not Fen is proof enough that your soul was greater.” I smiled, preening at the compliment.

“And, doing well in the tournament will be enough to garner the interest of at least one of the Holder houses. We will need their protection and influence if we are to act against the Adventurer’s Guild,” he agreed, rubbing his chin. “We must bring a measure of reform to the city.”

“Does she know?” I asked, pointing in the girl’s direction.

“She knows enough,” answered Larynda cheekily. “But that is not why I woke you up.”

The young girl looked down and to the left. Her expression firmed and she looked me squarely in the eye. “I need your help Gilgamesh of Uruk…” she started formally, before beginning to mumble “...if Kidu was still with us.”

The nerve of the girl. “Well, ask away. I have barely woken up and everyone seems to need my help. I seem to have suddenly become very popular, indeed,” I commented sarcastically.

“You should not trouble yourself with the girl’s problem. I will sort it out at a later date. We have matters of greater import to deal with…

“I will hear what she has to say. I owe her that at least, despite her lack of manners,” I sighed, sitting back on the edge of the pallet. “Is there anywhere else we can talk that is a little bit more comfortable?”

*****

We sat around a circular wooden table, a fine piece indeed, with its surface inlaid with tiles of pearly nacre. I leaned back against my chair, stretching away five years of troubled sleep, each imagined creak of the wood like a sigh of relief.

Tea was served in cups of bone china so delicate they seemed ready to shatter at a touch. The cups were so small that they required constant refilling from the mother pot. I would have laughed at the absurdity of it, but even this simple action seemed to carry a cultural weight of its own. Larynda's focused expression as she served us was a testament to the unspoken gravity of what she was doing.

I would have to be on my best behavior if I were not to offend.

Alongside the tea, cut fruit was provided, their pits and seeds meticulously removed, leaving only the succulent purple flesh. These morsels of light sweetness were a fine counterpoint to the weak tea. Against common sense, I did not feel as hungry as I should have… Was that because of the Necromancer’s care or had I grown beyond the limits of mere mortals?

When stomachs were partially settled and throats wetted, I felt it apt to renew the conversation from earlier.

“So why is the Green Road now a permanent thing? I thought it only appeared during the rainy season of the Grass Sea?” I inquired, taking a small sip.

“Well, you see, the rains, they never stopped. Just kept on going almost every day… and the Grass Sea is, well sort of a lake now. A really big one. The traveling merchants dub it the Saltless Sea now,” explained Larynda.

“Ansan?” I added, hoping the worst for that cursed city. Please, let there be some small measure of justice in this world.

“Probably at the bottom. Hope old Ham made it away safe,” she answered.

“I would not worry for him. He’s a canny one if nothing else. Now, Larynda, what do you need help with? As Hamsa entrusted you to me and you are my ward I feel a certain obligation to help you. I promise to help if I can,” I began, trying to sound older and more mature than I was.

The Necromancer looked as if he was going to say something, but he held it back, not wanting a repeat from earlier.

“Gil, it's not for me but for Naira. She’s been good to us these past few years and she has never forgotten about you…”

Memories came back to me with haunting swiftness. Of course, Naira and her damned daughter. And Elenora and little Theo. For this world, it had been five years, but for me, it was as if I had just woken from a very long and troubled sleep. A very long sleep.

“… they have been asking for more money. Extorting so much that it is basically slavery in all but name. We need to do something about it!”

I realized I had not listened to a good portion of what she had said. “Of course we do,” I answered, unwilling to admit that I had not been paying attention.

“That’s great!” she said suddenly clasping my hands and smiling brightly. Vincenzio looked studiously away, but I could almost feel him rolling his eyes.

“If you truly think the pair of you can deal with a powerful criminal organization, then be my guest. Do as you will, as long as this does not overly delay our plans. At the very least the lives of the citizenry will improve,” the pale man acquiesced with a sigh.

“And the guards?”

“Bought and paid for, of that there is no doubt. However, neutrality is the best that foreign gold can buy. And, as servants of the Council, the Guard might reward for you uprooting this outside influence,” he commented, placing both hands behind his back.

“Well, that’s great,” I remarked bitterly.

The Necromancer appraised me. “It could be very much worse.”

“And truly, you will not aid us in this?” I said casually, still at a bit of a loss as to what was going on, but a bit worried now thinking that I may have bitten more than I could chew.

The Necromancer placed his cup on the milky surface of the table and leaned back into his chair. “One might have done so, if one was so inclined, at a later date. But now, one is well preoccupied with other matters.”

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I tsked, annoyed. “No, then.”

“Just so,” he replied casually.

“Even with information? I would not presume to ask you to take an active hand,” I pleaded, hoping to wring the smallest concession from him.

In support, Larynda looked at the Necromancer with pleading eyes and mouthed a silent please.

“I will give you what information I have as I come across it. Noblesse oblige would compel me to do at least this,” he conceded unwillingly.

“Well then, there is no time like the present. The faster I finish this, the faster we can get back to the main task at hand. Where is my gear?” I said with what enthusiasm I could muster.

Experience points would be most welcome. This would just be a small side activity before I resumed the Necromancer’s quest chain.

“Larynda knows. But one would suggest that you not use that. The Aranthian design might be a little too recognizable. I have a sizable collection of various bits of equipment in one of the backrooms. Don’t ask how I acquired them for that would be a long tale indeed. Take what you like from there. One would also suggest that you cover your face, the Bulls of Heaven would not take kindly to…”

“They will not mind because they will all be dead,” I stated matter-of-factly.

Surprisingly, Larynda nodded in agreement. I did not expect her to be quite so bloodthirsty. People, it seemed, could grow and change.

*****

“You know, thanks again,” Larynda said, leading me down one of the basement’s corridors. “Alright, here we are.”

The young mage took out a bronze key, slipping it into a lock that failed to catch at first. After a few more attempts, the locks opened and she pushed open the door. Larynda tapped a crystal, sparking it to life with a few muttered words.

The room was bathed in the purplish light of the Zajasite crystal. Before me was quite the sight, a veritable pile of armor and equipment sorted loosely into various shelves and crates lay strewn about the room. Surprisingly, no dust lay on the floor and all the pieces seemed perfectly preserved and in good condition.

I entered the storage area, feeling a small buzz of electricity behind my neck as I did so.

“You have acted as my page before, find some pieces of armor roughly my size and help me into it,” I ordered bluntly.

“Yes, samasa!” she answered in jest, giving me a mocking salute.

“Do you wish for my help, or not?”

She paused for a moment, looking almost nostalgic. “You really haven’t changed a bit from back then, have you?”

“Again, do you wish for my help, or not?” I repeated flatly and without emotion.

“Alright, alright. No need to get your knickers in a twist,” she replied annoyingly, but I refused to rise to it. Her turn of phrase had a distinct twist of Elwin to it.

Instead, I began to sift through the disorganized armory. Slowly, we began to separate through the pieces of pieces of equipment, discarding anything too big or small or simply too outlandish.

“So… what became of Elenora and Theo?”

“Elenora felt she had overstayed her welcome, she never did get used to working about the inn. Theo was alright with it. Sunny with her smiles. Did everything with a grin…”

Heaven’s forbid, women did have a way of rambling.

It was about half a turn of a glass later when an idea came to me.

“This armor… here. I have seen this before,” I observed, forgetting my earlier question.

“That’s armor of the city guard. Look there at those runic inscriptions, Council armory work,” she answered, humming a pitch-perfect tune as she pointed at the flowing lettering.

“Then that is what I shall wear, or as close an approximation as is possible. I have the shadow of a plan…”

Her brow furrowed in thought for a few moments. Realization came as she caught my train of thought. “You know… that’s not actually half bad.”

I grinned at her. “I am glad that I have your approval. If we can turn the Bulls against the Guards then it will be to our advantage… should our deception fail we will not have lost much. I intend to root them out one by one if I have to.”

*****

It took another turn of the glass before we managed to assemble the rudimentary attire of a city guard. It offered less protection than I would have liked, but it would have to suffice. A mix of chainmail draped over a linen gambeson, with only the chest area shielded by solid plate. I rapped my gloved fingers on the bronze cuirass. This piece of my disguise had weathered a few dents here and there, but it had been polished to an almost mirror-like sheen. Only the cuirass bore runic inscriptions along its edges, ancient symbols that hinted at magical power, though whether runic bronze was better than simple steel, I could not say.

When I asked Larynda about their meaning, she explained that they were warding runes for minor deflection. I chose not to use an Identify spell to confirm her words, deciding not to waste the Mana and trusting Larynda completely. When pressed further for a more detailed explanation, she simply shrugged before saying that they apparently helped to turn a strike, robbing some of the force from a blow. Though I did not understand the exact mechanics of it, it made sense to the gamer inside of me, if not to the realist.

Perhaps being spelled with inscriptions would truly provide more protection than mundane steel?

The most concerning part of my disguise was the leather gloves. They would offer little protection for my hands, barely guarding against the lightest of strikes.

For my head, I had the open-faced helm of a common guard, notably lacking an officer’s plume. On the Necromancer’s advice, I added a chainmail hood with only the eyeslits open to cover my face, aiding in our deception.

Larynda began to pick out a few pieces of armor for herself, but I stopped her.

“There are no women in the guard,” I stated flatly.

“If I wear enough, they won’t be able to tell at all… and if I keep quiet…”

“But can you keep quiet?” I remarked snidely. “You may not know this, but it is in your posture, the very way you walk. A seasoned eye could tell you are not a warrior with but a single glance.”

“So, what am I to do?” she pouted.

“I believe it best you take a more supportive role. As far back as possible,” I suggested, strapping a belt of daggers to my waist. “Where is my old gear, by the way?”

Being a fragile girl, I wanted her well away from the fighting. Also, I did not want any experience points being funneled into her.

“There in that big chest,” Larynda sulked, offhandedly motioning to a rather large container in the corner. “But I don’t want to… I can handle myself, you know. Not the little girl you used to know. I am damn Silver Rank!”

“And I presume my equipment has been kept in the best condition?” I asked pointedly, ignoring her and trying to steer the conversation back to my needs.

The young girl squeezed her fists tight, before reapplying her sweet smile. “This room is warded… something to do with creating a bend in the River. Time is partially, well, conditionally twisted is the best I can but it in Trade. I don’t know quite how it works, well not yet anyway, but time flows a lot slower in here for things that aren’t living.”

“Well, that would explain… well this. It would take a lot to keep all of this in good condition, I suppose,” I conceded thoughtfully. “It would do you well to learn how to do so… it would seem to be a most useful magic with a lot of applications,” I commented, lost in the thoughts of the possibilities.

Yet, a part of me was fearful. It felt like such a magic would be the very antithesis of my own. For mine was, I realized, the power of the final change of all things.

“That’s sort of the problem. No one knows how to do it these days. The secrets of its construction have been lost since the Cataclysm. According to old Vince, only this room, and the Library of Quas are surviving examples of its like in the known world,” she added, dispelling thoughts of future applications.

It did mean, however, that this room was almost unique. And, unique things had a habit of being of value.

“Well… well that’s just a shame. Everything seems to just get worse instead of better. Really, a form of Entropy if you think about it?”

“Entro-what?” she responded, looking at me confused.

“A part of, how did Ankhset put it, a part of my path. My Ma’at as it were. The gradual decline of order to disorder. To Chaos. Didn’t we speak of this before?”

“Maybe… actually, yes I think so,” the girl admitted, stopping her work as she thought back on the past.

“What time is it?” I queried.

“Late afternoon, I guess,” she answered, hands cinching a baldric tighter about me.

Annoyed, I snapped back, “Then we best get a move on.”

“Gil,” she replied, ignoring my tone.

“What now?”

She handed me a knife, giving me a wan smile. “Can’t go wrong with a good knife, right?” Bemused, I did not answer, mechanically slipping it onto my belt. She had a point thought, you could not go wrong with a good blade for close-up work.

“Why are you helping? You just got woken up and you got no real reason to… and you're always angry. Elwin said almost every night you’d be screaming, that… that it made you angry. Angry at the world. Like why? I don’t know what I’m saying…” she ended weakly.

“Then don’t say anything at all if it does not improve upon the silence,” I lectured. “I’m doing it for one of the oldest reasons in the world, money.”

The girl laughed. Looking disbelievingly at me, she asked, “What do you mean money? You’re not going to get rewarded for this by the Guild you know… no matter how monstrous the Bulls of Heaven are.”

“They will have a few bits and pieces lying around, of that, I am sure,” I lied.

She looked away, not meeting my eyes. “You sure don’t talk like a hero from the tales… but I guess Uncle Elwin was right, you sure do act like one,” the girl admitted.

I decided to take a page from my own advice, keeping my silence close to me. A few minutes later, she finished helping me to adjust my armor with a newfound respect in her eyes.

Free now to do as I wished, I rushed to the chest and threw it open. Inside, I found Aranthian plate harness, the wolf’s helm causing me to smile, and my collection of weapons wrapped in oilcloth. Much to my relieved delight, I found within Bellringer, my Shocksteel Lucerne. My magical weapon. With a wry grin, I saw too the necklace I had looted from the corpse of the dead adventurer in the sewers. I would have to get Elwin to find a buyer… Elwin was no longer with us, I realized lamely.

“I will have to send for these later. But, this I must take with me,” I stated, slinging Bellringer over my shoulder.

Larynda just shrugged at this, passing me a simple knobbed mace, and long handled-steel dagger in a dark wooden sheathe. “I saw lots of the City Guards with these,” she explained. “It will help add some authenticity.”

I thanked her, hooking the mace and attaching the dagger to my belt.

Removing my helm and chain coif, I looked at Larynda pointedly. “Vince got any spare robes? I have a feeling it will not be the best of ideas to leave here looking like a member of the City Guard.”