Unbound

“Huh.” Felix said. “Do you mind if I–?”

“Analyze? Sure.”

Voracious Eye.

Name: Archibald Ross

Race: Delven

Level: 72

HP: 4482/4482

SP: 3347/3347

MP: 3266/6533

Strength: More Data Required

Weakness: More Data Required

The man was well into his Journeyman Tier and his Aspects felt fairly potent, skewed toward speed and strength rather than durability. Felix got the immediate impression that the man was something like a glass cannon—lots of offense, little defense.

Archie shivered. “Christ, that’s strong. How leveled up is your Skill?”

“You’re Delven,” Felix said, not answering the question. “Another Lost Race.”

“Dunno what that means, but yeah, that’s what it says. I tried looking them up in a library once, but I couldn’t find a single mention of it.”

“A Lost Race is one that was eradicated by the Ruin at some point,” Vess explained.

“Ruin?” Archie’s face screwed up. “Is this a magic thing?”

“A long story, but we’ll get into that soon,” Felix promised. “Laur? What do you know about the Delven?”

Laur lowered his hand from his mouth. His sharp ears were almost quivering in excitement. “The Deepsingers once maintained an empire of their own, far below the earth. Little is known of them, as they were Lost before the Golden Empire began. In the First Age.”

“That old, huh?” Archie said. “I’m a fossil.”

“So you picked this Race? You didn’t—have any issues with that?” Felix asked.

Archie scrunched up his nose. “Issues? No. But I don’t know anything about this game shit, and that list was stupidly long. So I picked the one that seemed the most useful. I didn’t know I’d be forced into a child’s body for the rest of my life, though. That part sucks.”

Felix nodded slowly. He could understand that. “Most useful?”

Archie shrugged, his eyes hidden behind the dark surface of his goggles. “Level up perks are nice. Got some good senses too, it’s why I can wear these without any issues. Don’t even need to look at stuff, technically. Called Blindsense, and it’s based on vibrations.”

“That is useful,” Beef said. “Lotsa monsters in SwordLore had blindsense and they were a bitch to fight.”

“SwordLore. Isn’t that a kid’s game?”

“No. It’s rated T for teen. That’s not kids.”

“...how old are you?”

Beef clammed up there. “Old enough.”

“Oh jesus. Can you even drive?”

“Never really liked racing games.”

Archie groaned. “Please. Felix. Tell me you’re old enough to drink.”

Felix fought back a smile. “I was, years ago. Don’t be fooled by Beef’s age. He’s smart, strong, and brave.”

“Yeah,” Beef echoed. Felix didn’t miss the kid’s blush of embarrassment, though.

Before he could course correct, however, the door to his room clicked open. Tzfell stepped in. She smiled as she saw Felix. “Ah, you’ve returned, Lord Autarch. That is good. I’ve news on the Hinterlord, his treasury, and more importantly…”

She gestured behind her, and an old man in a nondescript woolen cloak entered. His face was heavily wrinkled, but his eyes were sharp and clear. A hint of white and gold could be seen at his sagging throat, but little else. The door closed behind them.

“I wish to introduce you to an important contact here in the city,” the Chanter said.

“My Lord,” the old man croaked out. His voice was rough, not deep but wounded, as if he were gargling gravel.

“Hi,” Felix said, bemused. “Who’s this, Tzfell?”

“Bastard!”

Felix whipped his attention back to Archie. He stood like a cornered animal, a single arm outstretched, Mana glowing off the dagger he’d produced from somewhere.

Evie slapped her hand to an empty spot on her bandolier. “Hey, that’s mine!”

“Archie. What’s going on?” Felix asked, slow and steady.

“You tell me!” the man yelled. His Spirit was in a disarray. “What is this? Why is he here?”

Felix glanced between the old man and the Unbound. “Dude, calm down. I don’t even know who he is.”

“He’s the douchebag that brought the Titan here!”

In the silence that followed, there was only the crackle of the fire for a long, strained moment.

“Felix.” Vess broke the silence by manifesting a Spear into her hands. She pointed it at the priest. “It has been a long time, but I know him. Archie is correct. He is a pawn of the Hierophant.”

Felix turned his gaze onto the Dwarven Chanter and her guest. “Is this true?”

The old man pushed back his hood, revealing white, thinning hair. Around his throat and shoulders was a white jacket or robe, elaborately embroidered with thread-of-gold. “I cannot lie. There is truth to what all have said, my Lord.”

Felix pulsed his Voracious Eye, placing the man at the upper reaches of Master Tier. “Kellis Faer,” he read off. “Hierei of Calumb, Pax’Vrell, and Sao’thun. What the hell are you doing here?”

“And what the hell is a Hierei?” Beef asked in a low rumble.

“It’s a big boy priest,” Evie hissed. “Hush.”

“Kellis is our contact, my Lord,” Tzfell said. “He is a Chanter himself.”

“Impossible. Hierei Faer has been the Pathless’ high priest over our Territory for longer than my grandfather has been alive. I was slow to recognize him, but I am certain of that fact.” Vess tightened her grip on her Spear. “How could he be both a Chanter and Hierei? The Hierophant would slaughter him on sight.”

“I have worked very hard in that regard,” the old man said, and the words all but dripped with exhaustion.

“Kellis has been undercover almost his entire life,” Tzfell added. “When we were chosen for this mission, Mauvim told me of him and his history. He is the reason why we even knew the Corrupted had yet to find Archibald, here.”

“She did not tell me,” Laur protested. “Which means it is a grave secret. What has changed?”

“Imara,” the old priest said. The name alone sent a shiver through Archie. “She is unhinged, and I cannot predict what she might do next. I sent a missive to Mauvim under ward, in the hopes that we could salvage this situation.” He bowed, his Spirit unfurling like a soft arrangement of woodwinds. It sounded of gratitude and no small amount of fear.

Not fear of him, which was a surprise. It was directed elsewhere. Outward.

He’s afraid of Imara. With every bone in his body. A thrill of nervousness shot through Felix’s limbs.

“I visited with him in the hopes that he could provide greater information on our task,” Tzfell explained. “He also—”

“Okay, wait,” Felix put his hand up, black scales catching the firelight. He recognized the man now too, from his earliest visions of Imara. He was the one pleading with her to restrain herself. “You have inside men with the freaking Hierophant?”

“Too few, but yes,” Laur said.

Tzfell sighed, but nodded. “In fact, Kellis was the one to tell us about the Unbound summoning ritual. The reason we could react at all.”

Felix’s Mind whirled, putting new pieces into place. “Okay. Okay then. Why does—”

“No no, enough talking. Why should I stay here if this guy is your ally?” Archie asked suddenly. The guy had maneuvered himself until he was practically standing in the giant Dwarven fireplace. “He sicced his rabid dog on me! He’s the reason I’m—he sucks! Clearly!”

“Imara was only ever instructed to capture you. The plan was to secret you away in transit…but the bonds upon Imara’s being are too tight. Too…all encompassing.” The priest bowed, this time to Archie. “I humbly apologize, Unbound. None of this should have happened.”

“No. Don’t care. You sent that bitch after me. I’m done here.”

“You go out there, and Imara will find you,” Felix insisted. “It’s just a matter of time. Come with us. We can figure this out.”

Archie scoffed and tucked his stolen dagger into his belt. “Wars. Politics. I’m not getting involved in any of that, man. You can have this Continent and all these nutjobs doing wetwork for gods. I only wanna go home.”

“To Earth?” Beef asked, incredulous.

“That…might be possible,” Felix said slowly. “It’s something we’re looking into.”

“I don’t need your help. I got one last job here, and then I’m done. I’m out.”

Beef snorted, folding his thick arms. “Oh yeah? How’re you gonna do that?”

“You bigwigs aren’t the only ones with smarts. I found records of a ritual that was sealed away by the Hinterlords a long ass time ago. Read about it at some lordling’s ball, when I was…information gathering for some friends.”

“A ritual to do what?” Tzfell asked, suspicious.

Archie ignored her. “I know it’s real. I got diagrams, but they’re patchy. Incomplete. I need the real thing, and that’s stored away. Hidden in the Undermount. In the damn Vault of Nine Kings, if you can believe it.” He scowled at the priest. “And ever since someone showed up, they’re on lockdown. But I can manage that. All I need is time.”

“A ritual to do what?” Tzfell repeated, her voice tight.

Archie put his hands on his hips. “We got summoned, right? Well, we can get banished too.”

Stunned silence filled the room like too much water in a cup. Felix’s Mind raced, piecing together details and possibilities.

“Felix,” Beef said, breathlessly. “We could go home.”

A deep tremor shook the room, raining dust from the rafters and shattering the silence with groaning stone and timber. In the distance, big brassy gongs and rapid drums began to sound.

Alarms.

“Something is at the gate,” Tzfell said. Tattoos squirmed across her temples.

Without warning, the glass in the windows shattered. Felix threw himself over Vess and Pit, Storm Shaping a violent gust to blast the shards back outward. Beef had done the same for the Chanters and Evie, erecting chitinous barriers.

Archie climbed back to his feet, left arm bloody. “What the hell?”

Harn stepped to the empty sills, axes already aflame and stared into the night. He grunted. “Time’s up, ”

A voice ripped across the night, each syllable shaking floors and splintering walls.

“TREACHEROUS GNOME!”

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