Gizmo’s eye-panels flashed a series of emotive expressions as an unfamiliar sensation drove a spike into his circuitry. He felt the rush of ascension as he broke through to the Journeyman tier of Engineering. Dave, who had been snoring loudly on the floor of the workshop, woke with a start.
“Wo-what? Whatsat?” Dave jumped to his feet and took a defensive stance. “Gizmo? What was that?”
His eyes landed on the finished weapon sitting in front of Gizmo, and understanding reached him.
“You—you did it? You really finished it?”
“Yes, Master. I have successfully completed the siege weapon that was confounding us. The issue was, evidently, the torsion we were placing on the previous cable. I upgraded it for a material that was less strong, but more soft and flexible.”
“What did you use?” Dave asked, still in awe.
“I infused metal with part of the carapace of a giant scorpion monster.”
“You what? Where did you get that?”
“We killed it, and I requisitioned part of it from my party in anticipation of this moment.”
“I could kiss you, Gizmo.”
“Please do not,” Gizmo said, looking at the drool that was still on the side of his master’s face. “I have a great aversion to moisture and lack the programming to appreciate or understand affection.”
Not acknowledging his apprentice’s comment, Dave wiped his mouth and walked over to join Gizmo beside the over-sized weapon.
They both inspected it.
Mounted Ballista
Stationary Weapon
Epic
Used to hurl large bolts at medium to long range. Causes significant damage to targets hit directly by the shot projectiles.
“Hmmm. ‘Mounted Ballista,’ huh?” Dave asked, rubbing his chin. “It’s accurate, but we need a name with more… flair.”
Gizmo hummed to himself. “I think that the current name is quite good at describing it quite succinctly. What—”
“Giz-Bow!” Dave yelled. “It’s a Giz-Bow!”
Gizmo perked up. “Ohhhh. I like that. Giz-bow…” he hummed the last word slowly, tasting it.
Dave smiled his gap-toothed grin. “Well, what are we waiting for, lad? Let’s make more.”
***
Arika stood and stretched as she finished enchanting the plate armor before her. She smiled to herself, having advanced another two levels of Enchanting to Apprentice ten, the peak of the apprentice tier.
The prudish townswomen were still present, but even their caustic personalities weren’t enough to bring her mood down. Constantly having something to work on was doing wonders for her mentality, and she reflected that maybe she should have allowed herself to be lost in her profession sooner after her memories were returned.
The day had been even further improved when Truth showed up to the Enchanting stations unannounced, along with a handful of other prospective enchanters, all wanting to learn. The older women had all taken someone under their wing, and all the adventurers—Truth included—learned the profession within the first hour.
Truth, much like Honeypot, was someone that hated to let a silence stretch. Unlike Honeypot, however, Truth’s constant chattering and idle-talk was calming and endearing.
Arika sat back down and collected the next piece of armor to enchant, along with the crystals needed for another Speed enchantment. She stretched, smiling at the still talking Truth, then resumed her work.
***
Shadow finished making another batch of buffing food. He wiped the sweat off his forehead; the heat radiating from all the combined stove-tops made the room almost unbearably warm.
“Do you need a rest, dear?”
Shadow turned to see Rue making two batches of food at once, both hands gripped tightly on pans as she moved their contents around with little effort. The woman was doing twice the work of Shadow, while appearing to expend less than half the effort. He peered at her forehead to see that she hadn’t even broken a sweat.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“Not a chance, Rue.” He gathered the ingredients for another batch and began anew, determined to catch up to the wolf in a grandmother’s disguise beside him.
***
As Orion walked home that evening, he allowed his interaction with Felsteg to reenter his mind. From what he’d seen, he believed the man to be telling the truth. He seemed remorseful for what he had done and appeared to have been perpetrating something he himself had been a victim of. Orion knew that to be relatively common from a psychological standpoint; victims of violence, especially in early childhood, often went on to become abusers.
In the case of Orion’s party, he knew that aspects of their previous lives had slipped through. Orion had anxiety leeching through about, well, everything. He hadn’t known that he had chronic anxiety—to the point of a benzo dependence—in his previous life. Even so, remnants of that anxiety leeched through into this world. Shadow felt guilt for not wanting to be a protector, despite not remembering the terrible event that led to his death, in which he believed he failed to protect his kids. Honeypot, well, Honeypot was Honeypot, but Orion believed his friend wasn’t as alright as he pretended to be.
Orion didn’t really know about Arika either, but he had seen the way she reacted when Shadow had surmised her explosive abilities came as a result of a lack of power in her previous life. She looked physically struck. That image of her stuck in his mind, and he fleetingly wished—for what could be the thousandth time—that he knew what he could do to help her.
They had all retained some of their idiosyncrasies from their previous life—it was entirely probable that Felsteg had been subconsciously acting out what he had been a victim of, wasn’t it? But still, the fear of a trap lingered in his mind.
“What am I willing to risk on the fact that he’s telling the truth?” he muttered to himself. “And how the hell do I tell Arika?”
Orion arrived back at the house. He let himself in and found the rest of his party arranged around the table. Everyone looked exhausted, but were happily chatting with each other.
“I’ve brought dinner, Orion,” Shadow said. “I hope you’re okay with takeout. I don’t have it in me to cook one more thing today.”
“Of course,” Orion said, taking a seat. “If you asked me to craft another potion right now, I might head-butt you.” Orion reached over, happily accepting the bowl proffered to him by Shadow. He thanked him, eating as his friends discussed their days.
Arika spoke of her day with Truth and the rest of the enchanters. Shadow spoke of his day cooking, detailing the different recipes he had taught and learned.
“Me?” Honeypot said in response to Shadow asking what he had been doing. “Oh, you know. I’ve been here and there. Found an acolyte, explored the sewers. Usual Honeypot stuff.”
“Explored the sewers?” Shadow raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Best not to ask. My acolyte is a particularly twisted individual, with similarly twisted hobbies. Without sharing too much, though…” He took a drink of water, looking between Arika and Orion. “We came across something absolutely delicious in our travels.”
Arika blanched, and Orion felt heat rising to his cheeks. Neither of them said anything, not wanting to bait Honeypot into revealing he had seen them.
“You found something delicious…” Shadow said, “in the sewer?”
“Well, not literally.” He looked like he was going to continue, but shut his mouth and considered. “You know what, never mind. The more anticipation, the better.”
Honeypot smiled at Arika and Orion, like a wolf sneering at cornered sheep.
They spoke more of small things, comparing all of their advancements and progress over the last couple of days. Everyone was shocked at Gizmo’s advancement, Arika and Honeypot groaning that he had beaten them to Journeyman.
“That’s it,” Honeypot declared. “I’m fishing tomorrow, sewer spelunking and general tomfoolery be damned!”
Later on, as the conversation died down, Orion made up his mind. “I have to tell you guys something that happened today that involves Felsteg.”
It was like he released a snake in a chicken-coop; everyone in the room became alert and attentive.
Orion told them that Felsteg had approached him in the street. He went on to describe everything that Felsteg had said, and what his feelings were on the matter, as well as his reluctance to completely trust the man that had back-stabbed countless people.
When he finished, everyone sat there, contemplating what they’d just learned. Arika was the first to break the silence.
“People don’t change. Not really, anyway.”
“I know,” Orion said, “But—”
“He hunted us, Orion.” Arika stared back at Orion resolutely. “He didn’t just kill us when given the chance—he tracked us down, repeatedly. That seems to be more telling of someone’s character than their words, even if he had his memories returned.”
“I know. You’re right… but remember just how bad our own memories were.” Orion looked at Arika kindly, but she stared back in anger and frustration. “Just think about it. I don’t trust him either, but given the dire circumstances, I don’t think we should attack them unprovoked.”
“Unprovoked?” Arika stood, her chair pushing back into the wall. “Our dire circumstances are a direct result of him and people like him!”
“I know what you’re saying, Arika, and I agree.” Orion held up his hands in a placating gesture. “You’re right. I just—I want you to think about it. Please.”
“I’m going to bed.” Arika pushed her chair in and walked to her room, closing the door firmly behind her.
Orion breathed out a long sigh.
“Well, that went about as bad as it could have.”
“Hmm, your first lovers’ quarrel?” Honeypot waggled his eyebrows at Orion in the most obnoxious way possible. “Ah, to be young and full of life again.”
“I hate you,” Orion said.
“Don’t worry.” Shadow half winced, half smiled. “I might react the same way, given the circumstances. I kind of still do, to be honest. But you’re right, we need everyone possible in this coming defense. I’m sure she’ll come around. Just give her time.”
Orion nodded, but he wasn’t so sure.
***
Orion woke in the middle of the night to a feeling of impending doom. He shot out of bed, ready for a fight. There was nothing in his room, and he began to relax. Then he noticed the familiar tug on his will of someone trying to contact him.
He opened his interface to find a slew of messages from an unexpected source that filled him with anxiety.
Tallon: ORION! WE’RE COMING IN HOT FROM THE SOUTH. TEAM INJURED. MONSTERS CHASING. HELP.
Tallon: BOMB SQUAD REQUIRES ASSISTANCE
Tallon: PLS HELP
Tallon: ORION
Tallon: SOS
Tallon: !!!!!!!!!!!
More messages came flooding in, Tallon resorting to spamming random words and phrases to try to get his attention.
He responded.
Orion: We’re on our way.