Aaron paused in his aggressive stance. The voice was foreign yet had an odd familiarity to it. Still, he kept his hand cannon aimed at the closest target. “You want to talk? Show yourself.”
From the back of the library, a woman appeared from behind the rows of bookshelves. She wore an intricately detailed kimono with gold and silver traced through lines of soft silks, creating patterns of blossoms, flowers, koi fish, and two dragons. The long flowing sleeves of her robes came together at her abdomen, handing her hands within the silks, and her face was covered behind a smiling painted mask. The mask shined like porcelain, and in the eye holes of the mask glowed two soft flames of blue. Her voice was like an ancient song of sadness and triumph. “I have been watching you, Investigator, and I believe we can benefit each other.”
Aaron moved his aim to one of the Axemen with a shiny hatchet but looked at the mysterious woman who had drifted into the room. “I know you’ve been watching me. I saw the camera before we entered.”
“I’ve been watching you since you first tried hacking our network—long before you arrived at our sanctuary. I was curious to see how far you would go for your friend.”
Tommy maintained his defensive stance but puffed his chest with pride. “We will do anything for each other and go as far as the other needs!”
“I know that you would live and give your life for your friend, Tamatoa Upega’Tele. But, would your friend do the same for you?”
Tommy glanced over his shoulder and spoke quietly to Aaron. “Buddy, she knows my name and said the whole thing correctly. I thought you were the only one who knew my whole name, and you don’t even use it.”
Though her mask was expressionless, Aaron could feel those blue flames burning inside and searching his soul. The dwarf hesitated and adjusted his stance. This person, some Yakuza magic-wielder, was powerful and extremely well-informed, which meant she was someone with whom conversations could turn deadly in a heartbeat. Aaron decided that their chances of survival relied on keeping this interaction as brief as possible. “What do you want?”
“Aaron Frimslayer, son of Gritspar Frimslayer, son of Osgard Frimslayer. You broke the dwarven family mold when you decided to join the military as a digital forensicist.”
“I am not here for you to tell me about the life I have lived.” Hot, angry sparks could be felt with his words as Aaron repeated his question, “What do you want?”
“I have something you seek, Investigator Frimslayer.” The masked woman was undeterred by Aaron’s anger and spoke with the same rhythm and timbre. “While, at this moment, you seek something I am also looking for.”
“I’m not in the mood for riddles, lady.”
One Axeman with a shiny hatchet barked something angrily in his home language. The kimono-wearing mage-wielder paused to consider his words, then nodded. The nod was slight, casual, and graceful, yet it commanded the room. All the Axemen straightened from their aggressive stances, placed their hatchets in their respective belt loops, and then walked back to their posts in the library. One Axeman picked up the individual who had been trampled by Tommy and Aaron and dragged him to the back of the library and around a corner.
Tommy lowered his hatchet, and Aaron continued to aim at an empty space where the Axeman had stood, but both were hesitant to let down their guard.
“Would you like tea?”
“No—”
“Yes, thank you.”
Aaron scowled up at Tommy, who smiled and shrugged in response. The large elf gently put his hatchet on the ground and then placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Let’s hear her out, buddy.”
Aaron’s face twisted with distrust as he looked back at the woman with the flaming blue eyes. Carefully, he put his revolver back in his trenchcoat pocket. “I still don’t want any tea.”
“I know what you want.”
“For the love of pyrite, lady!” Aaron threw his hands in the air. “Would you quit telling us what you know and just tell us what we need to know so we can go on our merry fracking way?”
“I represent one organization in a syndicate devoted to understanding and expanding the innovation of magical technologies.”
“You’re from MIST,” Aaron said with a raised eyebrow.
“Magical Innovations from Syndicated Technologies, yes. Very good, Investigator.” An Axeman approached with a small porcelain cup on a matching saucer and handed Tommy his tea. The elf was gracious in his acceptance as the robed magic-wielder continued. “Many of our innovations have created phenomenal advances and helped the world. Some have brought joy to people, and some have brought peace. However, not all innovations are successful, and unfortunately there is the rare occasion when some of our products bring pain.”
Tommy hummed in satisfaction while sipping from the small cup in his hand. “Buddy, you should really try this, it’s good! Excuse me, what kind of tea is this, ma’am?”
The painted, porcelain smile regarded Tommy before answering. “It is a special blend of the flowers and herbs in our garden outside, Repartidor Tamatao.”
“Tommy is just fine, ma’am. Thank you. You should really try some of this tea, brother.”
Aaron waved away Tommy and pushed the conversation forward. “The gnome has one of your unsuccessful innovations, correct? You’re looking for the gnome, too.”
“In short answer, yes, Investigator Frimslayer. MIST seeks to reacquire its deficient technology before further harm is wrought on other individuals.” She moved to stand by a bookshelf. “Since we seek the same thing, I wish to hire you for your services.”
Tommy choked on his last sip of tea but did his best to keep the fluid in his mouth. Swallowing hard and coughing a few times, Tommy cleared his throat and responded. “I’m sorry, ma’am. My boss is a very particular person. I have to get that gnome back to him.”
“There are other forces at work here, Tamatao. You should consider my offer carefully before you make a decision.”
“You haven’t made an offer,” Aaron responded flatly.
“I am prepared to pay you more than you are expected to receive with your current employer. More in coins and favor.”
“Why?” Aaron shot back. “You already know everything that’s going on; you have corporate-level resources, which is like saying infinite resources. What is it about this gnome that you are trying to stay away from?”
“Aaron, buddy—”
The dwarf shoved his friend’s caution to the side. “No, Tommy. There are questions she doesn’t want us to ask because there are answers she doesn’t want us to know. Right now, she’s offering a whole lot of leaverite, and every dwarf knows what you do with that sort of stone.”
The soft blue flames from behind the porcelain mask burned in gentle silence as the dwarf stared back hard, waiting for a response. Still, her voice remained unchanged as she spoke, “Do you know why I have chosen to provide this offer to you?”
“Because you think we’re cheap labor,” Aaron snapped. “And you’d rather risk some nobodies as opposed to one of your own.”
“I would rather choose one of my own because I know they can be trusted. Those under me will die for me if that is required of them. However, despite their devotion, they do not exhibit what you two have clearly demonstrated.”
“And what’s that?”
“Pure devotion. Both of you have faced incredible perils for a gnome you have never met and for a boss that only one of you works for out of necessity. You do not seek the gnome for fame, fortune, or favor. Any of those under me would sacrifice for devotion to the ideal or cause or expectation. But the two of you face death because you seek to uphold the other. You do not seek the gnome; you seek to help each other in the purest devotion to love and friendship one could find in the streets of this city.”
Aaron shuffled his feet and pulled at his scraggly beard, then quickly stuffed his hand back in his trench pocket, snarling at the beard stroke that was the signature of all dwarves. The motion was built into his DNA, and he could not figure out how to stop doing it.
“Unfortunately,” the Yakuza magic-weilder continued. “Despite your incredible devotion to each other, you will not succeed in your mission. Even now, others are plotting against you. You will need help in your journey.”
“Oh, uranium!” Aaron cried out. “Don’t do it. Don’t do it! We don’t need your wizardry help. All that kind of help only brings more trouble. In fact, you know what? We don’t accept your offer. No, thank you. Goob-bye.”
Aaron walked quickly to the door but was stopped by Tommy. “Hold on, buddy.”
The dwarf glowered at his friend but then turned to focus on some movement down the aisle. Two Axemen were escorting a green-skinned orc between the rows of bookshelves. The orc was small and skinny for his kind. He wore a loin cloth and a well-worn shoulder bag slung across his chest and packed so tight that the seams appeared stressed to capacity. A small child’s book was cradled in the orc’s arms as he approached Aaron and Tommy.
“This is Swift Racing Ostrich,” said Flaming blue eyes. “He comes from an indigenous orc clan whose reservation is outside the city’s limits. Mister Swift owes me a debt, which will be partly paid by assisting you in finding the gnome.”
Aaron’s mouth moved, but words did not come out as he struggled to retort through his anger. He looked about the library, desperately searching for a bottle of saki.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Swift.” Tommy extended a hand to the orc.
Swift looked at Tommy’s hand, carefully touched it with his index finger, and then gave Tommy a satisfied nod.
Awkwardly, Tommy nodded, smiled, and retracted his hand.
“I said no!” Aaron finally found the words that his mouth had lacked. “We’re not taking on stray orcs who have wandered off their reservation. We’re not taking payment from you. We don’t accept your offer!”
“You are invited to use the interface in the library to search for the information you need to find the gnome, Investigator Frimslayer.” The porcelain mask did not regard the dwarf’s outburst. “However, please limit your research strictly to finding the gnome. Once you are satisfied with your findings, I ask that you make haste with your task and find the gnome before others do.”
The harsh reminder that server access was what brought him prompted Aaron to keep his mouth closed and cease any further retort of their situation.
“As a final token of my offer,” She spoke, and for the first time, her robed sleeves parted to reveal two delicate hands painted white and traced with intricate patterns. One hand carefully held a vial between thumb and forefinger. “I will give you this. I know you have sought this, hoping to find reconciliation and closure.”
Tommy cocked his head curiously at the vial, but Aaron knew exactly what he was looking at. The vial glowed with a soft arcane purple, and its contents glittered softly like dust falling in a column of light. This vial contained the magical extract of the Tuber arcanatum, the mushroom that the dwarf had carefully cultivated in his hidden safe for years. His gaze remained locked as he quietly asked, “How?”
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“There were different supplies you ordered from some of our organizations that individually would not mean anything but together indicated a unique exploration into the realm of magically embued fungi.” She gently rolled the vial, allowing the purple dust inside the glitter and sparkle in its soft, arcane glow. “This particular vial is a specially concentrated extract of the Tuber arcanatum that has a few other additives to assist in the use and control of the magic associated with its use.”
Aaron looked up at the porcelain mask. “You know this is not cheap. As far as mycology is concerned, this is similar to uncovering the philosopher’s stone… and you’re giving it to me?”
“You have until we meet again to decide if you will accept my offer.” She extended the vial to Aaron. “I trust I am leaving this vial in good hands.”
Aaron carefully took the vial of arcane dust from the Yakuza magic-wielder and stared at the gentle glow in his hands. This was something he had been carefully cultivating for years—not this, but the mushroom needed to make this. He wasn’t even close to achieving what he had just been given. Originally, Aaron just figured he would eat the shroom once it came to an adequate age. He had tried growing so many of the Tuber arcanatum and failed so many times. He tried eating the shroom early, too—and spent three days feeling like he was going to die. Tommy took care of him those three days. Aaron broke his gaze from the vial and looked back at his friend.
Tommy was carefully watching Aaron, with a warning in his eyes—not a threat, but a reminder of the promise they made. Aaron promised to stay clean while on the case—would he stay clean? After a moment, the island elf turned to the porcelain mask. “When will we meet again, ma’am?”
“At a time of my choosing,” The magic-wielder responded as she turned to leave. “I have other engagements to attend to. Consider my offer. When you are ready, my men will escort you to the exit.”
As the robed magic-wielder disappeared into the back of the library, an Axeman approached Aaron with a simple command and hand gesture, indicating the dwarf should follow him to a nearby server interface. The dwarf held the arcane dust firmly in his hand before securing it in an inner pocket of his trenchcoat and then following the Axeman to the interface.
“So, uh,” Tommy approached the orc. “First time in the city?”
The orc moved his hands and arms in various directions while simultaneously creating different symbols.
Tommy stared at the orc, trying to decipher what had just happened. “Is that a yes?”
With arms folded across his chest, the orc shook his head and then rubbed his temples.
Tommy guessed this was a sign of frustration. “Gimme one minute.” The elf said while holding up a finger. He quickly moved toward Aaron.
A digital forensicist was basically a military hacker who wore many different colored hats. As Aaron skimmed through the server’s data, he felt like he was wearing a gray hat—even though he was just given permission to peruse the Yakuza database. He would have loved to dive into many interesting files and folders and discover what they were about. Still, some sort of level 20 AI had been watching his movements ever since he started hacking MIST, and Aaron was sure the AI was still keeping a very close eye on his virtual movements. Limit your research to finding the gnome, she said. The dwarf felt the vial under his trench, then set himself to work.
“Hey, buddy,” Tommy said as he knelt beside Aaron. “How’s it going over here?”
“It would be better if I didn’t feel like I had gun sights aimed at me from every angle.” Aaron did not take his eyes off the screen. “Seriously, I don’t know how they expect me to work like this.”
“But you’re working?”
Aaron grinned. “Of course I am.”
Tommy nodded and patted his friend on the shoulder. “I don’t think the orc can talk.”
The dwarf glanced back at the elf questioningly.
“Seriously, I asked him a question, and his response was a bunch of hand and arm movements. I think it was some kind of sign language.”
“Great, now we have to lug around a dumb orc who’s lost in the city.”
“Hey now, just because he can’t talk doesn’t mean he’s not smart.”
Aaron made a few keystrokes and scrolled through a new list of files. “Sorry, poor word choice. I meant dumb, as in, we have an orc who can’t speak.”
“Oh. Is that what dumb means?”
“Yeah,” Aaron placed a few files to the side and opened two more folders in the interface. A second Axeman approached the one standing guard over Aaron and whispered something in the guard’s ear. The guard nodded, then returned to watching the dwarven investigator. Aaron whispered, “I don’t think they’ll let us stay much longer.”
“Do you have what we need?”
“Not really,” the dwarf flipped to a secondary screen and scanned through a few more files. “I can find all the schematics on this defunct sombrero enchantment, but details on the owners of this discontinued party favor are sketchy.”
“Okay, what do we have, and what are we missing?”
“We know we’re looking for a gnome who is not a purchaser of this hat. The most likely purchasers are these three individuals here because they’re Latino gnomes and might have run in the same circle. How long has that gnome been held by your boss?”
“I didn’t think to ask. Why?”
“These three have different purchase dates. If your boss had the gnome before any of the purchase dates, then we can rule them as leads.”
“Great, let’s go find out!”
Aaron moaned. “I really did not want to deal with the A1s.”
“You’re dealing with me, brother.”
“You’re not one of those bangers, and you know it.”
Tommy smiled. “Hey buddy, a lot of those bangers are just like me. Trying to survive on these streets and figuring out ways to make ends meet.”
“No, they’re not like you.” Aaron disconnected from the server and stood up. “Come on, let’s get out of here before these guys decide we’ve overstayed our welcome.”
As Aaron and Tommy walked to the front door, more Axemen converged to escort them out of the sanctuary-library. Tommy waved the orc over, “Come on, Fast-orc. We’re heading out of here.”
Swift Racing Ostrich scurried to match pace with Aaron and Tommy as they exited the building. Outside, Aaron winced at the bright sunlight that seemed to penetrate his brain. He had forgotten to put his shades back on after working with the server interface and quickly scrambled to get the shaded spectacles properly affixed to his face.
Two guards were standing outside the doorway. One looked new, but the other’s head was wrapped with a bandage—this one scowled venomously at the trio as they walked by.
Swift made a series of hand and arm movements, but Tommy and Aaron were unsure what the movements meant.
“We need to get you cleaned up and a new set of clothes,” Aaron remarked to Tommy. The dwarf glanced back at the orc. “We need to get him some proper clothes, too. It doesn’t look right; me walking down the road in a trenchcoat with two guys in banana hammocks on either side.”
Tommy laughed. They walked through the garden in front of the library to the sidewalk ahead. Upon reaching the sidewalk, they looked back to see a dozen Axeman standing silently, watching them leave the garden.
It was a bright, clear sky day in the city, which brought a natural frown to the dwarf’s face. Aaron stood with hands stuffed deep in his trenchcoat pockets and looked to either side. On one side stood the green-skinned orc sporting a loincloth and tattered shoulder bag. The indigenous orc was taller than Aaron but not nearly as broad. His head was shaven except for a single sandy-colored ponytail that grew from the top of his head and reached to about his mid-back. The orc looked down at Aaron and gave a questioning hand gesture. Aaron shrugged and looked to his other side.
A massive bronze-skinned island elf stood with thick, muscular legs that planted his large frame into the ground. The refugee elf sported a dark thong and a tattered, sleeveless leather jacket. Tommy stood taller than the orc and broader than Aaron. The elf stank like the sewer and the dwarf suspected some sewer gunk might still be trapped in the elf’s dark, kinky hair. Tommy looked down at Aaron and smiled, “So, where to next, buddy?”
“Where’s the closest Alpha Numero den?”
“Nowhere around here, brother. We don’t roll in this high-class of society. It’s a serious walk, so we should probably take a cab or something.”
“Cab it is!” Aaron quickly moved down the sidewalk until he was away from the staring eyes of a dozen Axemen.
A spot was carved into the sidewalk with a few taxis, each waiting for the next patron to jump inside and be ferried away to their destination. The dwarf approached the first taxi and knocked on the front passenger window. The window rolled down to reveal a team of glittering fairies working in unison as a single cabbie. The head fairy fluttered over the window’s edge and began to twinkle out her introduction and question.
“Seriously?!” Aaron did not understand fairy-speak. “First a goblin, now a team of fairies. This is why I walk everywhere. No, I’m not riding in a taxi with a team of fairies driving.”
This seemed to elicit some heated twinkling from the fairy, and to Aaron’s surprise, the orc stepped in and began to speak with his rapid hand and arm movements. The dwarf turned to stare in wide-eyed surprise when the fairy started to twinkle back with her own combination of hand and arm movements.
“You can communicate with fairies?”
The orc answered in the affirmative to Aaron, then continued his conversation with the fairy.
Aaron – Investigation skill 8 vs. Very Difficult DT – FAIL
The dwarven investigator froze. He listened carefully to the muted background noises surrounding him and attempted to reach out into the ether of the system to find out who was watching him. Nothing was there, but then, he didn’t expect to find anything with a failed skill check. Aaron turned to Tommy, “We need to go. Now.”
“Yeah, yeah, buddy. We’re going, don’t worry.”
“No, I mean, start walking. Right now—come on, orc!”
Swift glanced back and saw Aaron stiffly walk away. Clearly perturbed, the orc offered an apology to the fairies, stood, and quickly walked to catch up with Tommy and Aaron.
“What’s going on, brother?” Tommy asked. “Something got you spooked?”
“I just got a message of a failed passive Investigation check.” Aaron kept his head on a swivel as he quickly walked down the sidewalk, keeping with the crowds that littered the pavement. "I don't know who or what is out there. I only know someone or something is following us.”
“You saw a failed passive check?”
The orc nudged Aaron hard and began to speak with hand and arm movements.
“Not now, Fast-orc,” Aaron answered, shaking the skinny orc off his arm. “We need to be moving. Just keep up.”
The streets were busy, as expected for midday in the city, but Aaron found it challenging to stay blended with a crowd as the groups he would rush to always seemed to disperse from his presence. The continued failed attempts at blending in with the crowd had Aaron concerned until he caught a whiff of a stench and remembered, “Dammit, Tommy. We need to get you a bath and clothes.”
“I thought that’s what we were doing until you walked away from the taxi.”
“If we jump in the taxi, our tail will jump in a taxi, and we still won’t know who’s following us.” Aaron caught sight of a bus pulling up to a stop and rushed forward more quickly. “If we get on a bus, we can watch everyone getting on and off. We have a better chance of spotting our tail—or losing them if they don’t get on the bus.”
“Sounds good, brother. Let’s go!”
As the bus pulled up and its doors opened, Aaron quickly rushed in and was greeted by the bus driver, who was another dwarf. She smiled happily as she spoke, “Coins or pass, please.”
Aaron paused and reflexively checked his pockets, though he knew he had no coins. All of his coins had fallen out in the sewer. Aaron looked to Tommy, hoping his friend could help. Tommy reflexively checked his pockets, too, but was quickly reminded he was not wearing any pants. The elf shrugged and looked back at the orc.
Swift saw Aaron and Tommy looking back, and the orc looked behind him before realizing their stares were aimed at him. Casually, the orc responded with different hand and arm gestures, then made a play of looking through his pocketless loincloth.
Aaron groaned, “This is not going well.”
“Sir, I need you to present me with coins or a bus pass. Otherwise, I will have to ask you to exit the bus, please.” The dwarven bus driver was still full of smiles, though the curve in her lips had become less friendly.
“Just, uh, one minute, please,” Aaron said while raising a finger and going back to searching his pockets with his free hand.
“Sir,” Her voice had become stern. “If you cannot pay, then I need you to step off the bus.”
“There’s the dwarven hospitality I was expecting,” Aaron muttered under his breath.
“Excuse me?”
The dwarven investigator was about to excuse the dwarven bus driver when Swift tapped Aaron on the shoulder, severing the tension between the two dwarves. The orc pulled out a worn bus pass from his shoulder bag and held it up for the driver to see.
“Thank you, dear. That’s all I need. Please swipe it three times right here.”
Swift swiped the pass on the reader three times and saw the green light flash three times. He returned the pass to his shoulder bag and then moved his arms and hands happily toward the driver.
“Thank you, dear,” the bus driver responded. “It’s quite alright. Now go find yourselves some seats because we need to be heading off.”
The party of three moved to the middle of the bus, where they could see everyone on the bus, as well as those who entered and exited the transportation vehicle.
“Keep an eye out for anyone suspicious and who’s keeping an eye on us,” Aaron warned.
Swift nodded.
“You got it, buddy.” Tommy looked around the bus and added, “This bus should get us near A1 territory. That’s a nice stroke of luck, eh?”
Aaron grunted acknowledgment, then tapped the orc on the elbow, “Hey, I just want to say thanks for helping us get on this bus.”
The orc waved away Aaron’s gratitude with a smile as if it were nothing to worry about.
“I guess I should also apologize. I don’t quite remember your name, Fast-orc.”
The orc pulled a child’s book out of his old shoulder bag and opened the book to a page with a little orc boy running through grass fields. The text at the top of the picture read, 'See Jonny run swiftly through the grass.' The orc pointed to the word 'swiftly.'
“Your name is Swiftly?”
The skinny orc shook his head and covered the letters 'ly' while awkwardly holding the book and tapping on the word again.
“Swift?”
The orc nodded happily and gave the dwarf a thumbs up.
“Swift. Got it. I’ll work on remembering that. Thank you, Swift.”
Swift made a gesture while smiling, then turned to look at the people sitting on the bus. The bus doors closed, and as the vehicle pulled away, Aaron noticed someone in the crowd outside. The person looked gaunt, like a skeleton, wore a large cowboy hat, and appeared to have ice hanging from its frame. The person, or thing, was there for a moment, but a blink later, it was gone. Aaron leaned forward to get a better look out the window but only saw the city people bustling about with their busy lives.
“You good, buddy?” Tommy asked.
Aaron settled back into his spot but remained on alert. “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s get to our next stop.”