Vedek
The room was small and square, only large enough for a desk and several small cabinets. At the rear was the entrance to another room where Vedek could see the end of a bed. Had to be the officer’s quarters. The floorboards here had been crudely torn up to reveal the gray dirt underneath.
The man in the room was human. He was tanned, even for an Athshinian, and wildly unshaven. His yellow robe was thin and embroidered with designs of interlocking red ants. The man was shoving miscellanea into a large drawstring bag. When Vedek kicked the door in the man stumbled back, falling on his rear. His panic stricken eyes shot straight to Vedek.
“Oh piss on the hill.” The man swore. His western accent thick like paste.
Vedek did nothing. He did not fire his arrow, but he didn’t relax his bowstring either. He peered over the man and the items he was taking. The whine of insects was strongest here, sourced from a cloud of black horseflies circling the man’s head. Under his bandanna Vedek sneered in disgust at the thought of what level of hygiene the man practiced to encourage such vermin to flock to him. A glint of electrum drew Vedek’s eyes to the man’s hand instantly recognizing his own signet ring.
“Who are you?” Vedek’s words threaded the line between whisper and threat. He did not want to alert his allies at this time.
The man licked his lips. He was panting from the shock and grabbed his chest to steady his breathing. “Solind Vissima. I make my living running this outpost and its trade of stolen goods.”
Vedek had not expected such an honest response. Any time Solind moved Vedek jabbed his nocked arrow forward. “Are there more guards here?”
“How many have you fought?”
“Eleven.”
Solind’s eyes rolled as he did the calculations. “Then no. There are no more guards, just me.”
The longer the two conversed, the more Solind’s breathing steadied and the less fear was in his expression. It did not mean the two were becoming friends, for Vedek saw a scheme hatching behind Solind’s eyes. Despite being calmer, Solind didn’t take his hand away from his chest.
“Where did you get that?” Vedek demanded, gesturing to the ring with his bow. He had to cut to the point.
“This?” Solind fluttered his ring finger. “Stolen here like everything else. Why? Do you recognize it?”
Vedek bit his lip. If the leader of the bandits knew what the ring was, then Vedek might have just outed himself.
“We don’t have to fight,” Solind whispered. “I’m a coward by nature. I’ll tell you everything you want about this ring and all the treasures I found with it.”
Solind’s words caused Vedek’s gut to bubble with hope and fear. Vedek looked back to confirm none from his group were coming this way. He stepped further into the room and eased the door shut with his foot.
When he looked back at Solind’s smiling face he realized the mistake he had made. Solind had been concealing a medallion of a bronzed cicada on his chest. When Vedek shut the door Solind held the medallion high.
“Exarch Tlanusi, send me your children!”
Vedek felt immediate weakness. He wasn’t in pain, but his limbs felt heavy and numb. He lowered his bow and stumbled into the desk to keep himself standing. He could feel lumps on his body and something squirming around them. He gasped at the discovery that he was ceded with translucent leeches, each as long and thick as his thumb. The leeches were made of green light, but they still pulsed and fed like they were real. Vedek could see his blood siphoning through their mouths and evaporating in their stomachs. He dropped his arrow to remove the leeches, but they were as stubborn as a stony wart.
Vedek put up no resistance when Solind kicked him to the ground. Solind brought his face close to Vedek’s, ripping the bandanna off to see him better. “—I am also a cleric of Silesia, and if you are who I think you are then you’ll be coming with me, as much of a burden as it is.”
Vedek mustered his strength to kick forward. The tip of his boot impacted Solind’s crotch. Solind doubled over with the yelp of a small dog. Vedek used this distraction to crawl to the door. He could only open it a little, but he saw Frost at one end of the short hallway, no doubt looking for where Vedek had vanished to. Frost cocked his head towards the motion and saw Vedek on his hands and knees riddled with magic parasites. Frost’s lips curled in anger.
Solind dragged Vedek from the door by his collar. His eyes widened when he saw Frost charging, roaring a battle cry to signal the others. Solind didn’t even deliberate the decision between Vedek and himself. He released Vedek, dispelled his magic, seized the strings of his bag, and fled to the back room of the officer’s quarters.
Once the leeches were gone Vedek could feel his strength slowly returning. His skin bloomed color once more. Frost crossed the threshold of the room with his weapons drawn and ready for a fight. When he saw only Vedek he did not relinquish his rage. He charged through the same doorway Solind had gone. Vedek didn’t blame Frost, it gave him time to retie his bandanna. Rerume and Cole were next to arrive, the pair stooping to check on Vedek’s condition.
“Solind Vissima.” Vedek struggled to say. “He’s a cleric of Silesia and captain of this outpost. He’s already used one of his miracles on me.”
“Can you fight?” Rerume asked.
Vedek looked to the spots on his body where the leeches had been. There were no breaks in the skin, but he still felt weak from blood loss. He couldn’t let the others confront Solind without him, not if Solind was keen on revealing his identity. More than that, Vedek wanted his ring back.
Azeroth came last. Seemingly annoyed to be pulled away from his search. The cuts he had sustained in the earlier battle had hardened into flax colored scabs. Orc scars and scabs were hard as bone and served as a natural armor. The half-orc glanced down at Vedek. There wasn’t pity in his gray eyes, but rather some form of disappointment.
Vedek got to his feet, wobbling a bit as he did. Once he steady himself he felt better than expected. He walked to the next room believing he would find Solind and Frost locked in combat. Instead he found Frost standing over an open trapdoor that lead into an unlit shaft deep into the earth.
Frost rubbed his nose. “The man reeks of fermentation. He went down here. How deep it goes, I don’t know.”
“The old man Cory claimed there was a monster beneath the outpost.” Rerume said.
“Amaroks don’t do well underground. It limits our movement and deprives us of clear conditions.” Frost stepped away from the trapdoor. “Don’t think me a coward for not going first.”
“Do we need to fight this guy?” Azeroth asked. He brushed his index finger across the ridges of one of his new scars.
Rerume responded with a growl. “If he is connected to the raids, then yes. I must learn what he knows.” Before the point could be discussed further, he took to the ladder and descended.
The remaining four looked to each other.
“Coatlmade can’t see in the dark.” Cole pondered.
The boy tapped the tips of his ears and made eye contact with Vedek. “Elves can. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
Cole was the next to descend the ladder. Azeroth’s head jerked back for a singular snorting laugh. “He’s growing on me.”
“Can orcs see in the dark?” Frost asked.
“Half-orc,” Azeroth corrected, “and no. But that’s never been a problem for me.” Azeroth took to the ladder and swiftly clambered down it.
“Amaroks can see in the night, but not the dark.” Frost admitted.
“Is there a difference?” Vedek asked.
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“The night has the moons.” Frost said.
The two entered the pit one after the other.
Elden Fae could see in the dark, but not as well as wood elves. All Fae races were born to operate at whatever hour they chose. Elves were used to moving through thick forests in the dead of night, but their vision was limited to shades of gray. Elden Fae only needed four hours of sleep, meaning they were awake more than they were asleep, but the night was encouraged as a time for quiet study and hobbying. Elden Fae could see color clearly when in limited light, but only when there was light. Vedek supposed he did understand what Frost had said about the difference between the dark of night and the dark of an unlit interior. It was times like this that Vedek wished he wasn’t lacking for arcane abilities. A mage’s light would be invaluable here.
When Vedek reached the bottom of the twenty foot ladder he was surprised to find he could see better than expected. They were in a round dirt cavern where pockets of golden light sparkled near the ceiling like veins of ore.
“Phosphoroot,” Cole pointed to the lights, “it secretes a glowing sap that’s toxic to eat.”
“Then we won’t eat it.” Azeroth remarked.
Vedek exhaled anxiously. The room they were in split off in many directions, at least six different tunnels. He could hear something large moving somewhere, but he couldn’t begin to guess which tunnel it was sourced from.
Frost lowered his face to the ground and sniffed several times. “The cleric has been down here a lot. His smell is stronger here than it was up there.”
Frost broke from the group to sniff each of the tunnel entrances. He lingered at one long enough to decide that it was the path they should take. Vedek was still trying to determine what it was he was hearing, causing him not to notice Cole until the boy had backed into him. Cole apologized, his voice terse and nervous. He was aiming to be at the back of the group as they filed into the tunnel Frost had chosen.
Every member of the group had their weapons drawn, except for Azeroth, who cracked his knuckles. Frost was in the lead with Rerume beside him. The tunnel only allowed for a tight double-file line. Vedek heard the noise again, but now it was mixed with a slow series of clicks. The tunnel split at a fork. Once more Frost directed their path by following the scent of Solind. He did the same for the next two branches in the tunnel they found. This was a networked maze, not natural, but not handmade either.
The further they traveled from their starting position the less phosphoroot there was, severely reducing their light. In a dark stretch of tunnel Frost doubled back to investigate an innocuous patch of darkness along the wall. There was an unseen alcove here that hid a door made of iron bars. Frost immediately dropped to a crouched position. His body language was not aggressive, but curious.
When Cole reached this area he peered into the barred room, his pupils dilated so as to catch as much light as possible. “There’s a little girl in there…”
“I’m 110, I’m not little.” The voice from the cell was low and whispered, a hoarse songbird chirping.
The high age of the “little girl” made Vedek curious. He pushed aside Cole and Frost to look into the cell for himself. From the shadows an auburn haired lass stepped forward. She wrapped dirt sodden hands around the bars and peered up at the five strangers with pupils of electric blue that were bright beacons in the darkness.
“She’s an elden fae…” Vedek whispered.
The girl tilted her head to the side, observing him like a curious cat. Elden bloodlines could be told by the shade of the pupil. That vibrant shade of blue belonged to a divergent house, but in the current circumstances Vedek could not think of it. The sound in the depths of the tunnels kept pulling his attention away.
“How long have you been in here small one?” Frost inched himself close to the child through the bars. She did not shy away from the wecher, even when he was close enough that his sniffing caused her hair to ruffle.
The girl grimaced. She ran her thumb along the bar in her left hand where there were a series of scratches. Notches. Vedek counted twenty-eight.
“Is Solind dead?” The girl asked. She didn’t sound even slightly hopeful.
“He is not. What is this place?”
The girl sighed. She cast long looks down either ends of the tunnel. The look of trepidation on her face was enough that the five armed men in front of her copied her actions. When she next spoke it was a rushed whisper. She must’ve heard the same sounds Vedek did and was attempting to answer as many anticipated questions in one breath.
“I wasn’t always here. Two weeks ago I was kept in a cell in the outpost above ground, before that I was tied to a post at a camp far from here. Solind is the only one who visits me to deliver my day’s food, but I know there’s something else down here. I hear it moving in the tunnels. Whatever it is, it’s large and there’s two of them. My father is the Silver King of Sráid, Fellior Ruaidrí-”
That name caused Vedek to suck air between his teeth. The Ruaidrí were an exiled bloodline, cast out by Vedek’s own grandfather for conspiracy against Fae’Riam. Fellior was younger than Vedek, but inherited his throne earlier. The two had met as part of an attempt to mend bridges with the Ruaidrí family. He remembered Fellior being an accommodating host and his wife being several months pregnant.
There was a gasp from Cole. Surprised, Vedek turned to see if the boy knew the name as well. What the boy had actually realized was that he should start picking the lock to the girl’s cell.
“My name is Odile. I was kidnapped almost a month ago. I understand that Solind and his superiors are extorting my father for shipments of silver.” Odile watched Cole work with intense interest.
“How do you know Solind has a superior? Have you met them?” Rerume demanded.
Odile sneered. “Solind’s not smart enough to come up with a plan this elaborate, I can assure you of that.”
Both Vedek and the girl cocked their heads to the left end of the tunnel. There had just been a suppressed grunt of “damned child” coming from the shadows. In the light of the phosphoroot Vedek could see the yellow hem of Solind’s robes.
“That’s him.” Vedek hissed.
Cole dropped his lockpick in the surprise. Rerume snarled and turned towards the cleric. He was superseded by Frost, who was bristling in anger from Odile’s story. Azeroth was stone-faced, Vedek questioned if he had been looking towards Solind the entire time. Solind’s body locked up. He let himself be spotted and now had five people who wanted his head. There was something in his right hand, but it wasn’t his mantle.
“I’ll avoid needless interrogation by telling you that the child’s story is all true. With that out of the way we can get to the real questions. After all, if you were just here for the stolen items above you would’ve stayed up there. Who are you podredumbres anyway? You don’t belong to the Order or any city militia.”
Rerume asserted himself to the front of the group once more. Frost tried to resist being pushed aside but relented when Vedek touched his shoulder. Vedek nodded, a sign to show that he should let Rerume talk.
“I am an Avenger of the Vulture Mother. You have connections to a vile necromancer in Spiral City.”
Solind stepped forward to do a short bow. “When two agents of the Divines meet its customary to show mutual respect. Even clerics of Silesia know that.”
“The Vulture Mother shows no respect or favoritism, all are the same to her. Now tell me about the necromancer and I’ll allow you to avoid meeting her.”
That caused Solind to flinch. What was in his right hand was more visible. It looked like a long spear.
“The necromancer. Yes. I know them. Corban is their name. A prosopon.” Solind lifted his voice like a storyteller performing a reveal.
“A prosopon, really?” Cole gasped. Vedek and Rerume both gave Cole stern looks to remain quiet. Frost muttered Cole a question about what a prosopon was, but Cole said he would explain later.
Solind moved back into the shadows. To Vedek he was only visible beneath the knees. “We have an alliance, but we are just small parts of something bigger. I’m sure of it. Puppets on string. As for the string-puller, I prefer to play dumb when he’s around. Even if you let me live, he’ll have me killed for failure. Not unless I can bring him something really nice. Something like your elden companion.”
Vedek’s veins turned to ice. He felt his heart wither. He couldn’t let Solind speak another word. He fired the arrow trained on Solind. It reached Solind’s shoulder. Rerume looked back to Vedek in shock.
“Bit off more than expected with that one. Me and my drunken mouth.” Solind rasped. He removed the arrow, spraying blood across the tunnel walls. He pressed his free hand over his wound. “Blattodea, let me heal like your brothers.”
There was a hiss accompanied by a strobe of lime colored light. In the light Vedek could better see the spear Solind carried. It was a green shaft of wood topped with a thin pointed rod that resembled the graphite core of a pencil. It was not like any spear he had seen before. Whatever miracle Solind was invoking, it was healing him. Vedek readied another arrow. Rerume moved between the two, blocking Vedek’s shot. Before Vedek could protest, Rerume pointed at Solind with a limp finger.
“Vulture’s cry, Vulture’s cry,
Tell me the next to die.
Matters not if they cur, valiant, or royalty.
For on them I’ve sworn
This Oath of Enmity.”
The Avengers’ second oath. Sworn when they need to focus their entire world on a single target. It is said that when an Avenger swears this oath, their eyes become like fire to their target.
“Avenger. Right.” Solind cursed.
“Solind Vissima, cleric of Silesia and captain of Outpost Onx, I have marked you for execution.” Rerume declared. “My oath tells me that your spear is made from the stinger of a bombast scorpion.”
“Your oath is right. The bombast scorpion is the only animal that eats phosphoroot. They need the chemicals from its sap in order to…” Solind raised his spear to one of the exposed roots above him. After piercing the root, the spearhead sparked, then ignited on fire.
Now Solind was clearly visible. He pointed his flaming spear at the group. “As for you: mark all you want. It doesn’t matter if your scaly hands can’t touch me. I think I’ve stalled for enough time.”
Odile screamed. Vedek’s ears twitched. In the confrontation he had forgotten about the sounds in the tunnels. They had grown louder and closer, and now they were coming from behind him. Twisting through the tunnel were two centipedes. Each as thick as a wild boar and so long that Vedek could not see the other end of them. Their bodies were split into segments of a blackened crimson and each one was twitching with a collection of scythe-like legs. Those hundred legs were the source of the sounds Vedek had heard earlier. They clicked and snapped when they made contact with the walls of the tunnel, and they were so numerous that it became a symphony of skittering horror.
In the face of such creatures, Vedek’s instincts took over: He ran. His companions were doing the same, except for Cole. The boy was certainly terrified, perhaps more than the others given his history, but he was still trying to pick the lock on Odile’s cell.
The girl had to reach through the bars to slap the boy. “They won’t hurt me. So run!”
Solind ran as well. Rerume pursued, possibly not even aware of the centipedes as a result of his oath. The end of the tunnel where Solind had been turned in three different directions. In the panic to run from the arthropods the group split into different tunnels, with Cole and Vedek separated from the others.