The village clung to the side of the ancient caldera like a bunch of blocks spilled down the slope. Walkways and carved steps connected most of the square shacks, and what looked like winch-and-pulley elevators gave the dwellings access to the shore of the steaming lake at the base of the caldera. There were quite a few boats down there, and Threadbare could make out what had to be fishing nets hanging from their sides.
“Dey gots a brewery,” Zuula said approvingly, pointing at a building with copper tubes running through it.
“You'd need one of those to live in a place this cold,” Thomasi chuckled.
“For hot drinks?” Threadbare asked.
“Nah. Moah like getting drunk to take yah mind off the cold,” Madeline said.
“Is it that bad?” Threadbare asked.
“Now that we're over the lip and in the crater, it's not as bad,” Chase confirmed. “The warm air from the lake is blunting it a little. But still...” she waved a hand at the snow underfoot and all around.
“They'd do better to live in the caves down there,” Hidon pointed toward the lake. “Easier to heat, probably warmer to begin with, and there's less chance of storms sweeping all that wooden clap-trappery into the water.”
“I don't know about that,” Garon said, studying the structure. “There's a lot of work and expertise gone into that.”
“Fumble,” Glub said.
“No, I'm being careful,” Threadbare told him.
“No, I mean, this place just popped up on my magic map as Fumble. That's the name, dude,” Glub corrected him.
“Dis dragon country,” Zuula said, frowning at the lake, then looking up at the sky, and all the caves around it. “Who build a village out dis way anyway? Is foolish.”
“Almost as foolish as coming out here deliberately looking for a wendigo,” Garon said. “Which makes us fools following fools who went to fools. So let's get this fool's errand over with.”
The brewery turned out to be the inn. And the rotund and smiling innkeeper was happy to see new travelers.
“Enter! Enter! Welcome to the come-on inn! I am Ramuz of Paleo. Who might you all be?”
Then his gaze dropped to the floor, and the procession of toys that followed Garon and Chase and Thomasi in. “Oh my! Such amusing little servants you have!”
“We're actually people too,” Threadbar told him.
“Then today I have learned something. I apologize for assuming,” He bowed low, showing off a bronze-skinned bald spot on his balding head. “Tell me, are you the sort of people who would appreciate curried goat stew?”
“I would and she would,” Thomasi said, gesturing to Chase. “And him too, I assume”
“Curry! Been a few years since I've tasted a good hot one,” Hidon grinned. “Make me the happiest of dwarves and tell me you've got saffron in the mix.”
“Dat be a southern spice—” Zuula started to point out, but she found herself in the rare position of being drowned out by loud, booming laughter.
When he had finally subsided, Ramuz' grin could have given the sun outside a run for its money. “Of course I put saffron in it! And let me tell you, it is not easy to find, this far north. Fortunately there are a brave few traders that make the trek now and again. They're up to something of course, but at least their wares are good.”
“We're up to something too,” Threadbare said, doing his best to ignore the surprised looks that his friends shot his way.
“Goodness! It is rare to hear someone admit that,” Ramuz said. “Rather refreshing. Come, sit, and have some refreshment. And for those who do not eat, at least sit and enjoy the fire. Even if you have no bones, I expect you're still rather cold, yes?”
“Uh... yeah, kinda,” Glub said, settling onto one of the benches. “It's complicated, but yeah, we still feel the cold.”
“Compared to where I was born, it's actually not so bad.”
“Yep,” said a new voice, and Threadbare jumped a foot into the air in surprise, before turning to a shadowy corner, where a thin, wiry man with a shock of slowly-graying black hair and a weaselly moustache sat smiling nervously. “We tried living in the south for a while,” the man continued, “but holy heck, it gets hot down there. Why there's even a few months where it doesn't snow! I have no idea how you lot stand it.”
“Hello,” Threadbare said, dragging a chair over, as the rest of his group settled their nerves and their frames, taking their own seats. “I'm Threadbare. Who are you?”
“Trust-not-the-devils Bortiz. But my friends call me Tinty,” the man smiled, and offered a callused hand for a solid shake. “The one on the upper story giving you the hairy eye is Venthrax. Don't mind him.”
Threadbare looked up to the walkway that led around the room and over to the various vats and pipes, and to his astonishment, there was another man up there. Sturdy, as old as the others, and wearing a stained apron as he wrestled kegs of grain into barrels. Somehow he had entirely escaped Threadbare's notice.
“Just how many people are in here with us?” Threadbare asked.
Tinty laughed. “Oh that's all of us. Khankiller Rogon is out herding his goats. He'll be in at some point, but you probably won't notice it until he speaks up.
“This is a bit sahprising,” Madeline said, glancing from one end of the room to the other. “Just how high ah yah stealth ratings?”
“Oh, they're up there,” Tinty grinned. “Takes a lot to survive up in these parts.”
“That's some serious grinding,” Garon said. “Unless there's something really dangerous nearby.”
“It's the maiden of the lake,” Ramuz nodded. “The sacred woman who sacrificed herself to the fiery mountain quiet the earth's wrath, so long ago. Every night she walks the crater, lonely and searching for souls to drag down into the mountain.”
“Interesting,” said Thomasi. “Perhaps we can buy a few rounds, and you can enlighten us more on this local legend?”
“Now you're talking!” Ramuz said, and Venthrax left off work up above, to hoist a few pints with the rest of the drinking people below.
That took a couple of hours, and Threadbare found himself enjoying their talk about life in the far north, and how the skies danced with lights at night, how the herds of carry-bou and carried-boo roamed during the fleeting warmer months, migrating in vast herds to escape the monsters that followed them across the frozen land. How the ice froze in patterns that sometimes showed the faces of the wind spirits, who evidently were cheeky buggers who enjoyed staring into windows all the time. And how some insane elf in red was trying to kidnap frost elves into slavery, based on some sort of scheme to start a craftsman guild out where his shoddy products wouldn't be subject to reprisal by irate customers.
“Mind you, that last one's just a local legend,” Ramuz said, knocking back the last of his fourth mug.
“Best to make sure he won't get his claws into any of our party then,” Thomasi said, grinning back and wobbling to his feet. “Ah... damn. You only really rent beer, y-you know?”
Chase reached out a hand towards him, but he patted it and moved away. “N-no, where I'm going you definitely... can't follow,” he told the halven. “Threadbare, Glub, could you come make sure I don't f-f-f-all in the lake?”
“Heh! Yeah, don't do that, you'll turn it into soup!” Tinty Bortiz cackled. “She doesn't like 'em cooked—”
“Bortiz!” Ramuz snapped.
At the room's silence, he coughed. “That was in poor taste, I mean. Do not offend our guests.”
“S'hall 'salll right,” Thomasi said, wobbling to the door. “Now about that hhhellllp...”
Threadbare was a little confused as to why he'd been asked to help. Surely Glub would be more than enough? But he followed the human anyway, as he descended the cliff, found a private spot, and did his business with his back turned to the toys.
Threadbare grew less confused as Thomasi zipped his pants back up, looked around, and said “It's an act. They're lying about the local legend, and they're trying to stall us.”
“Do you get the sense they mean us harm?” Threadbare asked, looking back up to the inn.
“No. But I don't get any sense of goodwill, either. They're very neutral.”
“That's some strong willpower, dude,” Glub said.
“Oh?” Thomasi asked.
“Yeah. Threadbare's so damn adorable that after a while hangin' out with him, most people warm up fast. These guys have been through a LOT.”
“The ones we've seen,” Threadbare said, looking around at the village. “It's a bit large for only four people.”
“And if they all have obscene stealth like the three we've seen, we're probably being watched right now,” Thomasi pulled his mustache.
Glub looked to Threadbare. “How do you want to play this, boss?”
Threadbare considered the options. Every way held risk... but then, they had someone to help with that, didn't they?
“Wind's Whisper Chase. Please don't react. Do a reading to see how the villagers react if we come clean about our purpose.”
“Hm,” Thomasi said. “You know she's not a Scout. She won't be able to reply.”
“No, but Madeline is. And knowing her, she's had Party Whisper going since the moment we walked into town,” Threadbare said.
And indeed, a moment later, Madeline's voice whispered in his ear. “Beah, Chase says it leads to the best outcome undah the circumstahnces.”
“And there it is,” Threadbare nodded. “Let's go back and see what they say.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Just leave me and Chase a clear path to the door if this doesn't go well, that's all I ask,” Thomasi said, glancing around the village... and up to the sun, which was dipping strongly toward the horizon.
They found the tavern much as they left it, with Hidon entertaining the room, regaling them with stories of deep delves into the depths of Generica, so deep down that you had to come up slowly, and spend time in special rooms where the air was pumped and pressurized, or else your brains would boil in their skulls.
Threadbare waited for a lull in the conversation, and hopped up on the counter. “I think we should tell you why we're here.”
“Oh?” asked Ramuz, a tightness entering his eyes, as he took a quick glance over to the door. “And why might that be?”
“We are chasing a criminal. He's responsible for a great number of injuries, some deaths, and possibly inciting a war.”
“He sounds like a pretty bad fellow,” Bortiz said, and his chair was just a bit further out from the tablee than it had been. Threadbare caught his eyes shifting to the door, as well.
“He is. And we think he's somewhere under here.”
“We haven't seen anyone like that around here,” Venthrax said, frowning.
“You might not have, dude. He waystoned into someplace that was probably a cave. My map shows it's like a few hundred meters that way, give or take,” Glub said as he pointed down.
“Wait. Waystone?” Bortiz sat forward. “The waystone for the Frozen Maw has been missing for years.”
“Bortiz!” Ramuz snapped.
This time, Bortiz shook his head and kept going. “Relax. If they had intended us harm they would have acted by now. You're saying someone's gotten into the caves?”
“Yeah. Is it this waystone that's been missing?” Glub held up the small chunk of crystal left behind from the ritual.”
“That's the one,” Bortiz said, holding his hand out.
“Boss?” Glub glanced to Threadbare.
“If it's yours you should have it back,” Threadbare decided.
“It's not mine, but... ah, it's complicated. We sort of work for her now.”
“It's going to be night soon,” Venthrax pointed out. “You want I should go close the doors?”
“You'd better if we're going to have this conversation. At least four of them are made out of meat, and that's a problem.”
Zuula caught Threadbare's eye, and pointed to the four mugs at the table that Hidon, Thomasi, and Chase were around.
So our mystery person can drink beer, too, Threadbare thought.
“Okay, that bit about doors didn't sound good,” Garon said as Venthrax jogged outside. “Something we should know?”
“Ah... it's a long story,” Bortiz said. “The short part is that wendigos keep getting drawn to the caves below here. You know what wendigos are?”
“We're familiar,” Thomasi said.
“Yeah. When we get visitors we go and open the doors to the main caves. If the visitors are trouble, we leave them open and go camp out in a secret place for a few nights. That usually takes care of the bandits and other bad sorts that try to raid us or take us over.”
“Also makes dem happy wit you, yeah? Less livestock taken. Less children snatched,” Zuula said.
“If they have children heah,” Madeline added. “Pretty empty town.”
“Oh, we've got a few,” Bortiz added. “Some of us, anyway. They just hid when we saw your airship coming in.”
“The wendigos are why your stealth skill's so high, isn't it?” Chase asked.
Bortiz nodded. “That and we had a long and weird history before we got here. Used to work for a dragon, before she ran out on us. Now we work for... something else.”
“The wendigo queen?” Threadbare guessed.
“You know her?”
“Not exactly. The man we're after let slip that he was trying to find her. Well, helping someone else to find her. That other person might or might not be a wendigo.”
“She's definitely a cannibal,” Chase said. “It could be she's looking for an upgrade.”
“She wouldn't be the first, if so,” Bortiz shrugged. “Most of those assholes leave their bones far down below. LivingDeadGrrl has little patience for them.”
“That's the name,” Chase said. “They're here looking for her, and they've had a couple of days in the caves to do it.”
“Shit...” Bortiz rubbed his mittened hands on his eyes. “This guy who started a war. Tell me about him. What's his deal?”
It took about half an hour to fill the Fumble villagers in on the many misdeeds of Daffodil Copperfield.
But it wasn't until Thomasi mentioned that he had an Eidolon Operative along, that Bortiz sat bolt upright, and shared a long, meaningful look with Ramuz.
“She needs to hear this,” Bortiz said.
“In the morning, maybe. Even then, you know what that means...” Ramuz bit his lip.
“If those bastards are involved, it's going to be bad.”
“You know who the Eidolon people are?” Threadbare asked.
Bortiz slowly nodded. “It's... really complicated. She needs to be the one to explain that. I'm not sure how much she'd want me to tell you. You need to see her. You need to take this to her.”
“Lead the way, please,” Threadbare told him.
“You can't go now,” Ramuz said. “Opening the doors now would draw all of them.”
“We could take the far tunnels,” Bortiz said, glancing out the window facing the lake. “And if that Daffodil guy's still down there, then they'll be following him anyway.”
“He's made of wood,” Zuula pointed out.
“Oh. Like some of you? Ah... hm. Actually, thinking of that, that might work. If you lot aren't edible, and you leave the breathing ones back here...”
“We have to go,” Thomasi said, gesturing at Chase and Hidon. “That's a dwarf and the best diviner in this hemisphere. And I've got a few tricks that should keep them from attacking me.”
“You don't understand the risks!” Ramuz protested. “They're drawn to her. They keep coming back, no matter how many she kills. They eat each other and grow stronger and bigger. There's a REASON we have stealth skills well over five hundred!”
“The fahk?” Madeline burst out. “No wondah I couldn't see all of yah!”
“We have to try,” Garon said. “They've had almost three days to do whatever they're doing down there. I'm sorry, but we're going regardless. If you can show us the best way to enter, we'll take it from there, and we'll try not to bring reprisal or trouble to your doorstep.”
“You already have, perhaps,” Ramuz grumbled. Then he sighed. “It was nice to have company that truly appreciated a good curry.”
“And a fine brew. If a little weak,” said Hidon, lifting his mug and turning it over. Not a drop remained.
“Come back alive and I'll break out the good stuff,” Ramuz smiled.
“I'll take you up on that,” Hidon decided, as Bortiz led them outside.
“Take it slow and keep your eyes open,” the northman said as he started leading the way down around the ring of the crater, giving the lake a wide berth. “They usually don't creep outside during the day, but the doors were open for a while. Though if it's wheredigoes, they won't be visible at all.”
“We're familiar,” Thomasi said, walking at the edge of the formation. “That's why I'm bait right now.”
“Point,” Zuula said. “Close in around de odder breathing ones.”
The group did what they could, but it was still a tense walk.
After ten minutes, Bortiz eased up a bit. “If we made it this far, we're probably safe from roamers. Still don't relax too much.”
“Thank you for this,” Threadbare offered.
“If there's a threat to the queen, we need to deal with it,” Bortiz said. “She's done right by us for a pretty long time. And she's our last hope of getting our dragon back.”
“About that,” Threadbare said, looking up at him. “You had a dragon?”
Bortiz laughed. “It's more like she had us. Has us. We didn't know she was a dragon for a very long time. She'd turn into a human and come into town to sell her homemade alcohol. We just throught she was an eccentric Shaman.”
“Must have been a mighty Shaman,” Zuula said, approvingly. “Most Shaman, dey only do de beast shapes.”
“Yeah, she said that to dragons, most everything else was beasts.”
Zuula's eyes went wide. “Not how it's supposed to work!”
“Eh, she told us once that for dragons it was more like guidelines than rules.”
“How did you find out she was a dragon?” Threadbare asked.
“Another dragon came to town. It was back at the start of the guild wars. She tried to drive him off, but... well, we ended up siding with him and his friends. It was, excuse me for saying it, but a huge clusterfuck. After our village ended up destroyed we followed the other dragon's guild for a bit. Then things got REALLY weird.”
“How so?” Threadbare asked.
“Man, I couldn't even begin to explain it,” Bortiz said. “It gets, ah, how'd she put it... it gets metal physical. The queen's got the best shot at telling you anything to do with that, and even then... well. What do I know? I'm just a retired miner. Mostly retired.”
“Respect for that,” Garon said. “It can be a hard life.”
“Not if you do it right, and get properly lazy,” Bortiz said, raising a hand and stopping them at a hollow in the cliff wall. “Here.”
They considered the dark, empty spot.
“That smell,” Chase said, wrinkling her nose. “Rotting meat.”
“You can smell— oh shit, run!” Bortiz yelled, and took his own advice.
And that's when the furry, shrieking lumps of bone and muscle poured out of the darkness, and made straight for the two groups.
For a split-second, Threadbare despaired.... but only a split-second. The group was well-trained enough, they had held formation even when their objective was in sight. And the creatures weren't interested at all in the inorganic people nearest them, but only the breathing ones who were protected by their friends.
And the ones in front made the last mistake of their lives.
They ignored Zuula.
“Beastly Skill Borrow Tyrannosaurus!” she shouted. Followed swiftly by, “CHOMP!”
A semicircle of the first wave exploded, showering the group with rotten meat, old bones, raggedy fur, and surprisingly little blood.
And in that sprayed debris, Threadbare saw translucent shapes rushing, long-limbed and loping.
“Wheredigos!” Thomasi shouted. “Dropping flour, living folks shield your eyes!”
Threadbare saw one of the gore-stained things leap at him, then veer off at the last minute. He was fine, but there was another one, heading straight for Chase.
Well, that wouldn't do.
“Bodyguard Chase,” he declared, and instantly felt himself tugged quickly in front of her, as a long claw tore into his belly.
The thing paused, holding him aloft. Threadbare pulled himself off the creature's claw, popped his own, ran up its arm, and got to work.
Things got a little fast and confusing after that. The upside to being claws deep in the face of a very long-limbed and unintelligent creature was that it couldn't easily strike at him without risking damage to itself. Threadbare could easily slide around its head and shoulders and keep it from doing any serious damage to him.
The downside was that it moved quickly and chaotically, trying its best to get rid of the strange little thing that was murdering it. So Threadbare didn't see much of the fight that followed. An occasional glimpse of a silvery card spinning in the moonlight, tearing into sinewy flesh. A twisted maw opening wide to sink twisted fangs into heavy plate armor, only to be shoved away and cleft in twain as Garon swung his heavy axe. A cloaked dwarven figure, moving fast, two knives moving like sewing needles as Hidon darted in and out of the fight, leaping from shadow to shadow as things chased him, lost him, got shanked, and chased him anew. And the din of a dozen assorted skills as his friends did their thing, and the cannibal creatures died.
By the time he sunk his claws in one last time, and the shuddering, bloody creature collapsed into a heap of dying flesh, it was all over. Threadbare looked around, his darkness-adapted eyes seeiing perfectly in the dim moonlight, and did a quick count. Ten still standing. Himself, his seven friends, the unknown stranger, and the sheepish looking form of Bortiz, stepping out from where he'd been hiding behind a rock.
“Er,” he said. “Sorry, didn't expect that. Sorry again for not helping, it's just reflexes took over and all.”
“It's all raht,” Madeline said, turning from the smoldering remains of the ones she'd taken care of. “But I have a question. Who was it who hit them with that lahtning stahm?”
Threadbare tilted his head in surprise. “Scents and Sensibility,” he said, and inhaled as best he could. And sure enough, there was the crackling smell of ozone.
Silence, and the sound of the cold wind were the only answer to Madeline's question.
“Sahmthing's going on,” Madeline said, looking around. “And I don't lahk it one bit.”
“You assisted us, I'm assuiming,” Threadbare told the group.
Garon stirred. “What are you—”
Zuula put her hand on his knee. “Shhh. Watch. Listen.”
“You know we are just trying to find answers,” Threadbare said. “You also know that we always try to talk before we fight, whenever we can. Can we talk this time? Is that possible?”
Another long pause. And then he relaxed, as words rose up in front of him.
Your Adorable skill is now level 98!
CHA+1
“I suppose there is little risk to me. And it would serve my purpose,” said a familiar voice. It came from within the group, though as they grew closer, glancing around in confusion, Threadbare couldn't say who was speaking.
But Bortiz' eyes grew wide, and he took a step back. “You! She told us to let her know if you showed up!”
“Blind Melon was what you called yourself,” Threadbare said, and Thomasi's head jerked up in surprise, as a gleam of recognition filled his eyes.
“That was a ploy,” the voice said, and one of his friends... he couldn't say which... shifted and in its place was a blue woman, sitting cross-legged in midair, her indigo hair gusting as if blown by its own breeze, contrasting against the robins-egg hue of her skin. “I needed to meet you that night. To see you for myself, and judge you with my own eyes.”
“Djinn!” Zuula hissed, and her spear was out now, and glowing as runes lit up around it. “Outsider! Creature beyond dis world! What you do here? What treachery you bring?”
“None,” said the djinn. “To you, anyway. What were your orders regarding me, oh bold Bortiz?”
“To take you to her. Immediately,” Bortiz said.
White teeth flashed against blue skin, as she looked at the group edging away from her, hands on the hilts of weapons. “Were your words merely that, oh bountiful bear? Or were you speaking truly, about talking things over and telling tales?”
Threadbare felt seven pairs of eyes turn to him, looking for guidance. But this time, unlike every Council meeting he'd been through, this time it felt right. And he searched his instincts and found they felt right.
“You met me first when I was naked and alone. The only question I have that concerns me about your behavior is this: Do you mean harm to Bortiz's queen?”
“Absolutely none, save that she should start shit,” said the djinn.
“Good,” said Threadbare. “Then we ask your permission to travel with you. And what may we call you?”
Again came the bright white grin of unblemished, unused teeth, as the djinn smiled. “I am called Aunarox,” she said. “And I hope that we can accomplish ludicrously great things together, because in the grand scheme of things, time is against this world...”