Victor of Tucson

Victor ripped Lifedrinker from her harness and charged for the tunnel. As he surged through the darkened opening, he almost instinctually cast Iron Berserk, and by the time he exploded out the other side, he was hunched over, his shoulders scraping along the stone ceiling. A chaotic scene greeted him—Valla and the five Naghelli who’d been watching the gate were dancing around a frenzied Uvu and a monstrous aggressor.

The giant cat’s rear haunches were both speared by barbed harpoon-like, bony tines, and, attached to those tines, long vibrating sinews stretched forth to a pulsing, sucking mound of bone-filled gelatin. The jelly-like heap shivered and pulsed. The bones within its translucent structure shifted and seemed to heave with its movements as it surged forward and back, trying to, if Victor were guessing, reel in the cat—to pull Uvu into the slurping, toothless maw that kept opening and closing on the near side between the weird sinew-bound harpoons.

Valla danced forward, swinging Midnight at one of the sinews holding Uvu, but her blade bounced off. The Naghelli were fast, too fast perhaps for the mound to respond to their attacks, but their efforts were fruitless; they slashed and stabbed it, only to have the wounds they imparted instantly refilled with the clear jelly. Valla regained her momentum and went in for another strike, but then, with a sick explosion of puss-like gel, another harpoon fired out of the mound and impaled her leg. She screamed, stumbling and falling back, dropping her sword as she scrabbled at the ground, joining Uvu in his attempts to keep from being reeled in.

Victor had seen enough. With hot rage coming unbidden to fill his pathways to bursting, he focused his blood-red vision on the near side of the mound and cast Energy Charge, leading with Lifedrinker’s gleaming, red-hot edge. Like a smoking meteor, he ripped over the gravel and grass, and when he smashed into the mound, he buried the axe and his arms up to the elbows into its gooey, flaccid body. The impalement was only an after-effect, though—the real damage came from the concussion of his enormous body smashing into the monster. He hit it so hard, riding on a wave of powerful rage-attuned Energy, that the shockwave rippled through the thing, sending the bones inside exploding out the far side, spattering its gel-like innards and flesh over a dozen yards.

It didn’t make a sound as it continued to deflate, the gel breaking apart, becoming liquid before his eyes, leaving a wet spatter of bones and rubbery sinews scattered over the stony ground. Victor jerked his eyes from the destruction to Valla and Uvu. Valla was up to one knee, her impaled thigh held out straight as she worried at the jagged, ivory-colored harpoon. She kept glancing toward Uvu, but the cat was doing better now that it wasn’t being pulled by those bloody impalements. He lay on the ground, stretching his neck to chew and worry at the harpoon in his left haunch.

“Be still, boy,” Valla said. “We’ll help you in a minute.”

Victor started toward her, ready to help remove the barbed tine, but then some movement caught his eye, and he looked back at the splattered monster and noticed the fluid-like material was slowly flowing away, trickling over the gravely ground. “Somebody burn that shit!”

“Tuvai!” Kethelket yelled, and one of the Naghelli who’d been trying to help Uvu, sprang forward, a ball of flames forming between her hands. The ball grew in density and brightness until it was yellow-white, and then she flung it forth. It smoked through the air to smash into the center of the flowing pool of oozing liquid, where it burst into a carpet of brilliant flames. This time, something screamed, or maybe it just made that sound as it burned, and thick black smoke billowed into the air as the puddle ignited, almost like an oil slick had been set alight.

Victor nodded and moved over to Valla, kneeling to get a better look at the barbed harpoon. As he knelt, he ended his Iron Berserk and cast Alter Self, reducing his size further so he could better see what he was dealing with. He followed the sinewy rope away from Valla to where it ended in the smoking, burning pool. Nodding to himself, he said, “Hold still.” Then he hacked Lifedrinker into the sinew near Valla’s leg, where it lay on the ground. Lifedrinker’s smoldering, razor edge made short work of the material, slicing through and into the ground, shattering a few gravelly clumps of granite. “Sorry, girl.”

“It’s okay . . .” Valla started to say, then she looked at his axe and into his eyes and sighed. “You were talking to her.”

“Sorry to you, too.” Victor gripped the barbed end of the harpoon sticking out of Valla’s leg and said, “One, two . . .” rather than say three, he jerked and pulled the tine and the much-shortened sinew through the wound. To her credit, Valla didn’t cry out, though she hissed in pain and clamped her hands on either side of the puckered hole in her leg. Hot, dark blood pumped out between her fingers, and Victor dug out a healing potion, popping the wax seal and holding it to her lips. She drank it thirstily and then sighed as the magic went to work.

“Thank you. Let me help with Uvu so he doesn’t bite your arm off.”

Victor looked at the bloody barb he still held, frowning at the almost imperceptible edge. “This thing’s sharp as hell. I wonder if your armor would’ve stopped it.”

“I’d like to think so.” Valla grunted, climbed to her feet, then moved over to the grumbling, softly growling cat. As Victor moved to help her, Kethelket barked orders at his men, having them spread out in a semi-circle, watching the mists more closely. They’d gotten one barb out and were working on the other when the fire finally stopped smoldering, and Energy motes bubbled up out of the blackened sludge left on the ground. They were shimmering, purple and rich, dappled with other tiny, rainbow hues, and Victor realized the monster they’d slain had been formidable indeed—it was lucky his attack had been so effective.

When the Energy streamed forth, some of it went to Victor, and tiny streams went to everyone else, including Uvu, but the Naghelli who’d burned it, Tuvai, received an enormous share, and she whooped and hollered as it lifted her into the air, limning her with bright white light. When she settled back, she looked around and proclaimed, “I’ve leveled! The first in a decade!”

“Congratulations!” Victor said as he yanked the second barb out of Uvu’s thigh. Valla stood between him and the cat’s head, an arm over the big creature’s neck, but he still flinched away as Uvu roared his displeasure. “Quiet,” he laughed, “big baby! Doesn’t it feel better to have that out of you?”

“He’s grateful.” Valla’s smile had been ever-present since they’d lit the gelatinous monster on fire—it was clear to everyone that she’d been sick with worry about her companion and was relieved to have him back. Victor nodded, took the barbed bone harpoon, and set it on the ground with the other two.

“Maybe my ancestors can use these.” Without waiting for a comment, he cast Honor the Spirits, and in a silvery flash of ghostly fire, the three harpoons ceased to exist, disappearing in a cloud of spirit smoke that drifted out of this world and into the next.

“That was well-fought.” Kethelket moved closer, eyeing Uvu warily.

“Indeed, it was,” another voice called out. Victor turned toward the sound to see Sarl approaching. Behind him, a long line of soldiers marched around the keep, passing through the gates to the courtyard beyond.

“You saw?”

“Aye, we heard Valla’s valiant mount roaring and hurried around the corner only to find you smashing into that . . . thing. After I saw it set alight, I figured we could continue our march into yonder keep.” Sarl jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the open gateway.

“Good. Help the Naghelli set up a watch rotation and get the men started cleaning out the debris and filth.”

“As you say, sir.” Sarl snapped a quick salute, then marched back toward the keep. Victor saw Edeya moving in the opposite direction toward him and Valla, and he paused to wait for her.

“What should I report about that . . . monster?”

“It’s dangerous but apparently weak to fire. You got a good look at it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so describe it and mention the bit about burning it. Also, concussive damage seems to break it up.” Victor turned to Valla. “Can you bring him into the courtyard? I want to try interacting with that stone again now that the cohort is here.”

“Yes.” Valla screwed the top back onto a jar of healing salve she’d been spreading into Uvu’s puncture wounds. She took hold of his reins, muddy and splattered with gore, and led the great cat toward the gateway, speaking softly and scratching him with her free hand behind the ear.

Victor turned to Edeya. “I’m sure glad he fought his way here. That mound of jelly had to weigh a thousand pounds, and he dragged it here with two harpoons through his legs.”

“He’s a valiant animal.” Edeya nodded, though she only gave Victor half her attention; she was busily scribbling into the Farscribe Book.

“All right,” Victor snorted, “come on.” When he returned to the slowly rotating System stone inside the keep, the courtyard was far more crowded. Soldiers were gathering refuse into piles where Pyromancers set it alight, rendering it to ash. The lingering smoke tickled Victor’s nose as he looked around, watching the cohort’s engineers as they rapidly constructed doors to mount in the doorways and built railings to line the stone stairways that led up to the parapets. It was amazing how much faster things went when dimensional containers and magic were a factor.

Victor approached the stone and placed his hand upon its surface. Once again, it paused its rotating, and a message appeared in his vision:

***This stone is undefended, and you have sufficient forces in the vicinity to claim this outpost. Do you wish to do so?***

Beneath the message was a simple menu with a yes and a no option. Victor mentally selected the affirmative, and almost instantly, a breeze began to blow into the keep. The wind tickled his senses, buzzing along his pathways, and he knew it was rich with Energy; some magical working was taking place. The stone tingled under his hand, and he gently tugged but found he couldn’t pull away from it. He wished he could go up to the wall to see what was happening from a greater height, but failing that, he asked, “What’s happening on the wall?”

Kethelket stood nearby and shouted his question to his men, and one of them called down, “The mists recede! I can see trees and hills now! Dark creatures flee to the north! More undead!”

Another guardsman, this one a Shadeni, laughed and shouted, “They smoke in the sunlight! You should see the panic in their flight!”

“So,” Edeya said, nodding, “the mist signifies their controlled lands.”

“I mean, I kinda figured that, didn’t you guys?” Victor looked around, and Kethelket and Valla nodded.

“I suppose if I’d thought about it . . .” Edeya stuck her pen between her teeth and chewed on the wooden end in contemplation.

Before Victor could respond, another System message appeared in his vision:

***Congratulations! Your forces have claimed this outpost and its surrounding lands. Defend it from your enemies and continue your conquest! For your victory, your faction will be rewarded a Chest of Conquest—this only occurs the first time you claim any given territory.***

Victor felt the weird grip on his hand fade, and as he pulled it away, a thick blue fog began to swirl out of the stones at his feet. He backed up and watched as the fog or smoke or steam—he couldn’t detect any smell at all—began to swirl together, thickening and then blowing away on the weird, magical breeze. In its wake, a large wooden chest sat on the flagstones of the courtyard, the planks of which were stained the same shade of blue.

“Woah!” Edeya cried, “I’ve heard of System chests, but I’ve never seen one!”

“I have, but only in dungeons.” Kethelket stepped toward the chest, squatting to examine it better.

“Same.” Victor moved to rest his hand on the top of the chest. It was warm and solid and throbbed with Energy. “Did any of you see the messages from the System as I was interacting with the stone?”

“I did not.” Kethelket straightened and looked at Victor with those depthless black eyes. In his reduced state, Victor was only a couple of inches taller than the lanky Naghelli.

“No.” Valla stepped up next to him, for some reason eyeing Kethelket warily.

“Nothing big; it just said we’d claimed this outpost for our faction, that we needed to defend it, and that we were being awarded this chest. Oh, and we’ll only get a chest the first time we claim ‘any given’ territory.”

“Interesting. I suppose the System wouldn’t want two generals from opposing factions to take turns swapping an outpost, collecting chest after chest.” Kethelket nodded as though the System were being clever, and Victor had to admit he’d had the same thought.

“Would anyone ever? I can’t imagine working together with these undead monstrosities.” Valla’s frown had only deepened at Kethelket’s words.

“I doubt every conflict the System sets up is between such polarizing factions. What if it were Shadeni fighting Ardeni?”

“I . . .” Valla closed her mouth and looked around with more understanding. “Yes, I suppose with countless worlds and even more peoples, such things might happen.”

“Anyway, let’s see what’s in here.” Victor reached for the chest’s clasp, but Kethelket held up a hand.

“A moment, sir. Have you considered it may be trapped?”

“Would the System trap a reward?” Edeya’s eyes bulged at the implication.

“I doubt it,” Kethelket said, “but it wouldn’t hurt to be sure. I have a rather talented artificer here with me. Perhaps we can give him a moment to examine the container?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Victor shrugged.

“Relekani!” Kethelket called, turning around in a slow circle, trying to lay eyes on the Naghelli in question. A shadow detached from the parapet near the keep where one of the engineers was crafting a wooden door for the upper level. He drifted down to the courtyard in a flutter of softly glowing orange and charcoal wings.

“Sir?” Relekani was a slight Naghelli, a good six inches shorter than Kethelket and with very slender limbs. He had a delicate, narrow nose and wore his white hair short and parted to the side, smoothed down with some sort of wax.

“Examine this chest. Ensure it will not harm the one who opens it.”

“Ahh, of course.” Relekani produced a pair of spectacles with dark amber lenses and put them on, then he held out his hands, muttering something under his breath as he carefully studied the blue container. He started in the front, staring at the clasp for a solid minute before slowly moving around it, scrutinizing every corner and edge.

“What do you guys think is in it?” Victor asked to pass the time.

“Weapons!” Edeya said with certainty.

“I don’t know. It could be anything from armaments to rations to alchemical ingredients. Perhaps it’s just beads—the System loves to encourage trade.” Victor noticed that Valla wasn’t even looking at the chest as she spoke; her eyes were on Uvu. The big cat was resting in the shadows near the gatehouse, cleaning his long, sharp claws with his enormous pink tongue.

“Agreed.” Kethelket nodded, eyes on Valla. “It’s hard to say what the System would think was a worthy reward for this keep. I wonder if the blue color is any indication. I suppose we’ll learn more as we continue with this conquest.”

Victor grunted and was about to make a guess when Relekani straightened up. “I see nothing of concern.”

“Good! Thanks for checking.” Victor didn’t wait for any further objections and stepped up to the chest, flinging the latch up and lifting the lid. More blue mist escaped the interior, and when it faded away, he peered inside. “Oh, nice!” He spoke reflexively as he saw the rack of six shimmering, pearlescent white potion bottles at the top of the chest. He felt the others crowding near to look within, so rather than explain what he’d seen, he kept looking.

He lifted the potion rack, handed it off to Valla, then picked up the next item—a bolt of dense black cloth that smoked with the dark shadowy-Energy that pervaded it. Kethelket hissed in appreciation, but, again, Victor handed it to Valla. She set it on the ground near the chest, and Victor heard soldiers muttering as a crowd began to gather. “Yeah,” he said, glancing at Kethelket and Edeya, then around at the milling soldiers, “how about everyone stand back a bit? Valla will lay the items out as I retrieve them.”

“You heard the Legate!” Sarl barked from up the steps near the keep door. “Form a wide circle and show some respect!”

Victor glanced at Kethelket, saw a slight frown on his face, but nodded as the man took a few steps back. Edeya hurried to comply as well. Victor returned to the chest and lifted out the next object—a dense hunk of charcoal-black metal. He lifted it easily but could tell it was incredibly dense. It almost reminded him of his helmet, the way it pulled at his fingers as though trying to get to the ground. He handed it to Valla, and she grunted as she carried it in two hands to set on the flagstones next to the shadowy cloth.

“Is there more?” Edeya asked.

“A lot.” Victor reached into the chest again and lifted out a tooled leather container. At first, he wasn’t sure what it was, but as he turned it, he saw an opening on one end that was densely packed with red-fletched arrows. “Huh.” He passed it to Valla. Next, he pulled out a fist-sized metallic ball densely inscribed with runes. He could feel the Energy in it—it throbbed so richly that he felt it in his knuckles. “I have no idea what this one is, but it’s full of power.”

“I can help to determine the use of these objects,” Relekani offered.

“As can any number of Artificers with the legion.” Valla didn’t frown or snap, but her words were a clear rebuke. Relekani backed up, and Victor could feel the frown on his face. He reached back into the chest and lifted out a gold-foil-wrapped brick-sized object. It was light, but again, he could feel the Energy within, and when he lifted it to his nose for a sniff, his mouth began to water.

“Careful with that one,” he said, handing it to Valla. She nodded and quickly set it down, careful not to allow whatever magical odor permeated the contents to waft toward her nose.

Victor looked into the chest and saw only one more object. As he retrieved it, the chest vanished in a puff of dense blue smoke. Victor waved it away with the final reward—a folded, silky flag made of cream-colored fabric and emblazoned with a blood-drenched golden sun. “Huh! I guess the System likes my glorious banner.”

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