“So, first off tell me what you remember,” says Marvin, who seems to be wary about what the answer will be.
“Everything up to when I lost consciousness. Or died apparently. Which is weird because that’s not generally how it works right?” replies Rory.
“I’m not certain myself,” says Marvin, “but knowing that guy it probably has something to do with re-integrating your soul into your body. So I’m going to skip the battle and just say I managed to finish off that disaster with wings, and I’m sure you figured out that’s what was in the bag earlier.”
“So how long has it been? You dodged that question earlier and we’re underground. Or at least I’m assuming we’re underground, without the windows and all,” chimes in Ernest.
“Assuming I wasn’t passed out for a week after arriving here, it should be about two or three days from when we fought the dragon. I moved as fast as I could and used the stone as soon as I was in range. That battle was probably spotted by the other groups, so they should be arriving at the site about now if they were where they were supposed to be. All they’ll find is scorched earth and broken scales.”
“Supposed to be? What do you mean by that?” says Rory.
“After you all were… down, Brinlog said to me, ‘Finally, Marvin the Hero, we have a chance to chat alone about the situation you’re in.’ Aggrieved as I was I shouted back, ‘Explain yourself demon!’ which Brinlog chuckled at and replied, ‘Simple, Hero, there is a reason you and I both arrived at this place, and a reason why I finished off your companions first!’ After that I only remember bits and pieces, but I flew into a rage and lost a hand in the process.”
“Ominous…” was Rory’s reply.
“Yeah,” says Ernest, “But everyone knows Brinlog was a pure sadist, which is why three teams were sent out after someone found out where he was.”
“True,” says Rory, “but who and how did they figure out Brinlog was in that territory? It’s not impossible that Brinlog just captured a random person and said ‘Go tell your king I’m here,’ just to lay a trap, but I can’t shake the feeling it’s something else.”
“And that gets us close to our current problem,” cuts in Marvin. “What do we do now?”
“If you want to hear my vote,” says an irresponsible voice from a doorway, “you should take a vacation for a while.”
The three turn to look at the Other walking out of a doorway, while Marvin replies, “You don’t get a vote, monster, but why?”
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“Quite simple actually. Do you want to live or do you want to ‘die?’ Nobody knows you live, so what if you died? By all rights you’ve lost at least 2 companions, so if you return through the city gates and start telling people your team is going on leave for a while to recuperate and why the King will capitulate to maintain his current image. If you want to play dead, I can let you walk out the front door and take your time getting back to the castle, if you want to go back at all. Also, here’s your bag back.”
Marvin grunts as he ties the bag back on his belt. “Front door though? We should be in the capital though right?”
“Silly Marvin, did you somehow forget that transfer magic is possible? We are quite a ways away from the quiet streets of downtown. If that is the option you want though…” The Other looks around quizzically at the golems, “Which one of you knows where the front door is?”
A slightly tall and lanky golem steps forward and walks towards the fifth doorway from Rachel’s.
“Excellent! It’s that one, and you’re free to leave at any time, but as a service for the extra change I received, take some spare equipment. Make sure you ask a golem first before you leave though. As soon as you exit there is a one-way line of sight transfer gate. But it really feels like you’re flying, so maybe a transfer ballista would be more accurate?”
“So,” pipes up Ernest. “What should we expect if we leave through the front door? As in, fields, ruins, mountains?”
The Other smiles, as if he was waiting to answer this question. “Snow. Lots and lots of snow.”
The three look at each other, Ernest with wide eyes, Rory with a haze, and Marvin with a look like he was getting a headache. In fact, after a moment Marvin began to rub his temples.
“Oh, I should say one more thing about the snow. It’s in the opposite direction you three are thinking. If you use all the transfer ballistas I have set up and they’re working properly, it should take you about a month to get back since they are set up to need just a bit more magic to activate. Randomly throwing deer and foxes and rain from one place to another gets them noticed quite quickly. And some are partially hidden.”
Whether it was timed or not, at this Sebastian arrives with more refreshments. Once the hero has his, he takes a flask out of a pouch and liberally pours in the contents.
“Ah, a dwarven drinking flask, it’s been a while!” says the Other. “How nostalgic. In the early days I used to have one filled with an antiseptic since it’s the only ‘bottomless’ liquid container around.”
“You…” mumbles Marvin. “Weren’t you supposed to be sorting out Margarette and whether or not she’s staying? Why are you here then?”
“I’ve asked my question, since you want to know, and have left her to contemplate and consider the options that were, so to speak, standing before her,” the Other says as he takes a sip from his teacup. “Incidentally, the array I use to converse with her is the same type of array Sebastian and Graham are using with their stones.”
“Random question,” says Ernest, “but how long would it take to get back if we just used the transfer gates to get somewhere not cold?”
“Hmmm… Assuming a lot of things, like if you were normal merchants or peddlers but were also something like undead who didn’t need to sleep or eat and could walk across water, probably 3 months? Add in the fact you need to, and that you seem to attract trouble, 9 months to a decade is reasonable.”
“Now I’m curious,” cuts in Rory, “How did you find this place? Is it some ruin or something? How did we get here?”
“Ha ha! No not quite. I suspect this is in your history books, but do you remember the story of how I disappeared for couple decades or so, then showed up in the middle of the battle of Tort or whatever they’re calling it? Anyway~ one day I decided, ‘well, this may be home for me, but I wonder how far south I can go?’ So, along the way I started laying down a stable line of magic and added the transfer gates when I could. Or felt like it. Nifty little trick I picked up from a dragon a while back. There’s a reason they’re called ‘dragon veins’ you know.”
“Wait what?” instantly replies Rory. “Say that last part again?”
“Rory,” Marvin says, rubbing his temples and nursing his cup, “You’re getting sucked into his pace. I’m going to call it a night and sleep, so I suggest you two do the same if you can. And I would take it as a kindness if you left us as well.”
“Fine, fine,” says the Other, standing up. “No need to be treading your grapes for you after all. I’ll check in daily until you leave. I have an appointment in a couple hours with a particular nun in the slums so I’ll be off.”
- - - - -
Several hours later, if one were to be watching, they would notice two golems walking towards the rightmost empty space on the wall. The first is Fleur, who is holding the hand of a nondescript female-esque golem before passing through the barrier.