Unbound

Bellar sat atop the cliff, crimson cloak held close, and considered their path.

The night was dark. No moons shone upon the mountain, but the thick layers of snow and ice reflected the paltry starlight well enough. It was the bitter cold, truly, that hampered their movements, as it had hampered the engines of their Manaship. Forced to land within the foothills of the western range, they had trudged with indefatigable steps over hill and dale, battling Trolls and beasts the likes of which he had never seen. The retreating storm even now buffeted them with its fury, but his men were hardy and their armor heavily enchanted for the bitter cold. They had trudged across half the world to reach this point. They wouldn’t be put off by some snow.

When his scouts witnessed a bolt of lightning from the heavens, they had been astounded. The potency of it had even lifted the hairs on Bellar’s neck, and he had only viewed it from the pine forests below. He’d immediately ordered them to follow the bolt, and was rewarded when it hit a nearby mountain. The impact of it had shaken the ground beneath their feet—causing an avalanche in an adjacent valley—but what made his people eager was the conflagration of golden light that had spilled from the crater it left.

Holy Light.

“Lord Inquisitor! Over here!”

Bellar stood from his improvised throne of stone, and strode across the slanted ice. Golden Mana flared beneath his feet, enchantments worn into the armor that melted the ice just enough to secure his footing. Bellar walked across the mountain and down, into a crumbling slope at least seventy strides wide. The rock and snow at its center had been painstakingly removed, and now they revealed an armored giant, half-trapped beneath the mountain.

“The Chosen,” Bellar whispered. He gestured furiously. “Get her out of there! Now!”

His men got to work, their blood-red cloaks nearly black in the moonless night. Soon, however, the sun would rise.

Dawn came as Felix and company rushed to answer the Hinterlord’s summons. The contingent of Forge Knights and the fancy courier all waited as they did so, posted up in the courtyard of the Torrent’s Rest for all to see. The sun rose and smoke darkened the sky while a crowd of onlookers gathered.

Felix took his time to ensure his people were organized and secure, much to the chagrin of the courier. She grimaced at each delay, though she refrained from speaking against Felix’s decisions. His role as the Hero of Birchstone apparently had some weight, and he planned to make it work for him.

When they finally emerged, it was with everyone as shined up as they could be. Armor, weapons, their bodies, all were washed and polished. Even Harn’s battered set was buffed to the best of their ability, though the man wasn’t too happy about it. He was still grumbling as they descended the steps of the inn and into the courtyard.

“The dirt adds character,” he growled.

“Uh-huh. You had enough blood in the grooves of your gorget to make half a man,” Evie pointed out.

“Character,” he grunted.

The Claw had already brought around their ice sleds and crates of goods, and Felix ran his Perception over the lot of them. They had cleaned up as well, but still wore their fur-lined cloaks that covered most of their Leviathan bone armor. Loquis and Mervin were at their head, and they each gave Felix a firm nod as he passed, heading toward the courier.

The courier brightened at their approach. “You are ready, Mr. Veil? Is—is that a Dire Hound?”

“We are. And yes,” Felix gestured ahead with the hand not carrying Pit. “Lead on.”

Had his company tried to push their way through Birchstone alone, getting through the outer district would have taken them hours. The streets were crowded with people, locals and refugees alike, many of whom were covered in soot and carrying their belongings on their backs. All of them stepped aside for the Forge Knights carrying the Red Shield banner, and the courier was none too shy about summoning a shield of force Mana that she wielded like a plow. Those that were too slow were shoved aside.

Felix grimaced internally, but schooled his face to stillness. They only had one shot at their goal, and this invitation was a windfall—he wasn’t going to screw it up now by protesting the Hinterlord’s men. Not yet, anyway. Still, people around them were injured, many burned, and that tugged at his heart. Half the district had caught fire during Imara’s assault, and the Watch had been entirely too slow at putting it out. Birchstone watched them march through the district, fear and anxiety and anger roiling around their Spirits like a nest of snakes. Felix fought to keep his breathing steady as they moved through them all. Their stares felt like an accusation.

He could have easily ordered the Claw out to put out fires and help people, but instead Felix had focused on their task ahead, at the expense of everything else. It was a good excuse, but that’s all it was. An excuse.

Hero of Birchstone, he mused sourly. Some hero I am.

A wave of green-gold life Mana waved outward in a rushing breeze. It passed his company without much effect, but it spread powerfully over the crowds. People looked around in shock, hefting their burdens easier, and even some of the worst burns visibly healed over.

Pit’s Breath of the Wild is level 30!

“Pit…” Felix ruffled Pit’s russet ears. “Thanks.”

The little tenku said nothing, focusing on expelling a great lungful of air to keep the Skill going. Whenever he ran out and the Skill faded, he took a huge breath and immediately recast it. So it went, as the courier led them through the district, until they passed through the gates and into the second district of Birchstone.

Pit’s Breath of the Wild is level 42!

Pit settled into Felix’s arms, out of breath and thoroughly exhausted. There had been a great deal of injured people on their path, and everyone that received his temporary boon had helped push the Skill higher and higher. Felix gave him an appreciative belly rub as they strode down newer and far wider thoroughfares.

The streets weren’t nearly as crowded there, most of the foot traffic belonging to liveried servants purchasing sundry goods from the assorted shops that lined their route. They walked up a perfectly straight road for almost a mile before it began to ascend, leading to yet another district gate. They passed through without a moment’s hesitation, and found themselves climbing a switchbacked thoroughfare up the side of a cliff.

Structures were built into the cliff, stout, sturdy, and ornamented with gold, silver, and precious stones. They were homes of the wealthier merchants, Tzfell informed him in a low voice, positions of renown second only to the mansions within the upper district or the Clan Hold itself.

They saw those soon enough, as the winding road once again straightened out and flattened itself. Walled estates extended in every direction, most with extensive gardens and lands. Occasionally they would pass a pair of guards, each wearing distinct livery. They saluted sharply to the Forge Knights before resuming their duty.

Beyond the walled mansions and snow-clad personal forests, there was the mountain. It loomed above them their entire trip, a star shadow in the early dawn light, like a piece of midnight tossed to earth. As the sun rose farther, details could be picked out. Massive carvings of Dwarven faces, each a hundred feet high, flanked a massive fortification that easily outstripped them in size if not artistry. It was bulky and blocky, its high, seamless walls a testament to defense rather than ostentatious design.

They approached the fortress and found themselves surrounded by well-dressed craftsmen, merchants, and various rich folk from the city. They were jostling among one another, all of them shouting questions for the well-dressed men and women that stood before the gates. Another company of Forge Knights stood with them, just as silent as they waited.

“When can we reach the High Clans again? I have an exclusive contract with—”

“What of my family? They are within the Clan Hold! I should be able to join them…!”

“—lit up the sky with gold! You all saw it! We are not safe!”

“In the name of the Hinterlord, stand aside. I bring with us the Hero of Birchstone!”

The voice of the courier tore through the throng, loud as her impressive Body could make it before she started hurting people. Still, Felix saw some wince and shield their ears. The crowd turned almost as one, to stare at them, but only a few began to move. The courier cleared her throat, and once again her shield of force Mana slipped among them like a glowing blue worm. Few could see it, but it hung there, ready for the courier’s Will to activate it. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

Reluctantly, the opulent mob stepped aside. The courier smiled brightly and led them ahead, passing through the cordon of Forge Knights. Felix frowned, taking in the crowd’s Spirits. Impatience and a strange sort of eagerness flickered among them, sharp and staccato, but it rode atop an undercurrent of dread. A few seemed confused and peered at Felix’s party with bright curiosity. Whispers followed him, the word “hero” bandied around, just as the courier no doubt intended.

“Open the gates!” came the call, echoing from one Forge Knight to another. By the time it faded, the gates rumbled open.

They entered, passing into a winding, mazelike entryway that was shrouded in gleaming sigaldry. It was so thick that Felix could feel it press against his skin, like a wave of thick oil. It clung to them, growing in pressure with every step, but never so much that it slowed their progress. The courier led them on, through bladed battlements and beneath vaulted arches dotted with inscribed murderholes, all of which was manned by a battalion of hardened warriors. Though he kept his Voracious Eye to himself, each and every warrior was at least at the upper edge of Journeyman Tier. Some were Adept as well.

“I see you admiring our fortifications,” the courier said, once again flashing that wide smile. “Many of these are new, and the enchantments have been layered by Master Tier inscriptionists.”

“Are they new because Im—the Titan broke the last set?” he asked.

The courier’s smile faltered. “Yes.”

“Hm,” was all Felix offered. He ran his gaze over their defenses, judging them all. They were strong, he could tell that, and a lot of traps were worked into the arrays he could see. He imagined more existed in hiding, ready to catch any invaders by surprise. The bones of the mountain were strong. He hoped she was right.

“Ahem. The soldiers stationed here normally protect highly important places within the Clan Hold, such as the Hall of Ancestors where the Highblooded meet, or even Nightfall Palace. In his infinite wisdom and compassion, the Hinterlord moved all the men he could here, to protect us against the new onslaught of the Titan.”

As she spoke, they finished their winding, serpentine journey and walked out into a wide platform. It was very large, clearly designed to accommodate far more traffic than their relatively small group, and was ringed by a stout ornamental railing. Several paths led off of it, all of them winding downward toward a glittering vastness below.

“Siva’s Grace,” Vess whispered. “Incredible.”

Others gasped as well, clearly overwhelmed. Before them, a city many times the size of Birchstone sat within a cavern that stretched for miles in every direction. The ceiling itself was so high that swirling clouds obscured it from view, intersected only by dark pipes that seem to hang unsupported in rigid formations. Below, colorful lights twinkled among palatial mansions, enormous gardens in full bloom, and streets that looked to be made of literal gold. Statues of Dwarven figures abounded, most between fifty and a hundred feet tall, and all worked from the midnight stone all around them.

The courier flung out her arms dramatically. “Welcome, Mr. Veil, to Red Shield Hold!”

Exploration is level 75!

Adept Tier!

You Gain:

+5 PER

+5 INT

+5 FEL

Felix shoved aside the notification and tiny surge of System energy, only missing a part of the courier’s speech.

“—from here, and the golden roads of Red Shield will lead you to the vast Crimson Bazaar, where any number of curios and delicacies can be found. There, by the copper domes of the Grand Assembly, is the temple district, where the worship of our Revered Mother Nocits and her wayward siblings still holds strong.”

Felix scratched his jaw, looking for a thread of conversation to latch onto. He definitely didn’t want to talk about Noctis. “This is all very impressive. Does this city take up the whole mountain?”

“Of course! Red Shield Hold itself is quite expansive, but there are also dozens of layers beneath our feet that spread through the Rimefang Mountains with unchallenged range. A connection between our cities is truly what separates our proud nation from the mewling sun-worshippers.”

“Interesting. Are the paths between cities traversed by foot?” Felix asked.

“They are, but the distances are vast,” she said, leading them down from the wide entrance platform down one of several sloping streets. “Even within the city itself, getting from one place to another is quite a chore. So we have developed a true marvel. Behold!”

She stopped at the first curve in the path, where a rectangular building carved with intricate geometric knots jutted out of the cavern wall. Some of the dark pipes he’d seen in the sky traced directly to the squat building, passing through the short end and into the interior. They were notched in such a way that tugged at Felix’s memory, but it eluded him. The building was lit by a number of blue-green magelights, but was otherwise quiet and decidedly empty.

“What am I beholdin’?” Evie asked.

“Ahem. Grom, if you would.”

One of the Forge Knights stepped forward and threw open the doors to the squat building. The wide entryway revealed a large space that looked remarkably like a bus station, with an open floor plan, some seating clustered along the walls, and a single desk manned by a very tired looking Dwarf.

The Dwarf, a man with a floppy hat and a thick black beard, jolted awake. He scrabbled in his seat, flapping his lips without effect for a second before he found his voice. “Welcome! Honored guests! To the Cloud Chariot!”

Light came alive, swirling along the ceiling to reveal a long steel box the size of a single train car. It was shaped like one too, long and rectangular, except it was suspended from the notched pipes that entered through the open end of the building. Several silver-green clamps and gears held the thing to the pipes, and they shimmered with sigaldry. More evidence of an advanced array was apparent across the metal chassis, but the bulk of it was hidden from view. Glass windows covered the front and back, with smaller portholes along the sides, except where a door was situated.

“Uh, we’re supposed to get in that?” Beef asked. “It’s not really made for…people my size.”

A Forge Knight pressed a triangular piece of crystal to the side of the Cloud Chariot and two wide doors opened up with a hiss of silver Mana vapor.

“Built of high steel and reinforced by the very best metal mages this side of the Continent, the Cloud Chariots were designed with the intent to haul large amounts of cargo, sir. You will be quite safe.” The courier stepped within and jumped up and down twice. The steel railcar didn’t so much as quiver. “As you can see, it is quite sturdy. Now.”

She clapped her hands, and her smile widened even further. “Who would like to soar the heavens?”

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