Threadbare complete tr.., p.23
Threadbare - Complete Trilogy, page 23
“Two greens,” he told Missus Fluffbear as he put his hand of cards down, and she considered, and put down two blues.
“Good! You win!” He patted her head, and she wiggled with pleasure, something she’d picked up from Pulsivar, probably. The cat had taken a look at her and fled, for no reason Caradon could tell. “Keep playing grindluck,” he told her, studying her status screen’s thirteen luck with his eye for detail. “We’re going to be here a while.”
A few more hands later, and silence surrounded him for once in… hours? Something like that. He’d kind of lost track after the third avalanche. But now he felt secure enough to send the Raggedy Men back to their patrols.
As to the wards, eh, he could get to those later, when he had more enchanting supplies and sanity. As it was, the only ones that were seriously damaged were the ones against demons, and what the hell were the odds that any of those would show up tonight?
He took another look at Missus Fluffbear’s luck. The odds were entirely too high, he decided. So he had Ah Chairy Mcchairface go fetch him one of his toy golem birds. “We’ll call Mordecai in, just in case,” Caradon said, and blinked as his wisdom went up for the first time in years. “Definitely Mordecai!” he said, scratching out a hasty message and sending the bird on its way.
*****
NOW
Anise’s heels clicked as her boots hit the stone floor. The corridor was dark, lit only by a single glowstone. She approached the bars, taking no effort to hide the sound of her approach.
“Someone’s coming,” She heard one of the half-breeds whisper.
“Shh! Don’t interrupt Beryl!” The girl whispered back.
“It’s all right, I’m done. She said say yes.”
“What?”
“The goddess said say-“
Anise moved into the pool of light just outside the cell. “Oh dear, such a misunderstanding.” She looked down at the little golden scepter in her hands, and looked back to Celia. “Would you and your little friends like to go free?”
There was a long pause. Beryl slapped her forehead. “Yes!” she said.
“Come along then.” Anise took out a slender key and unlocked the cell door, then unlocked the door to the rest of the keep. The children filed out, cautiously, save for Threadbare who marched up and pointed at his scepter. She handed it to him with a closed-mouth smile, and patted his head, before moving further into the keep.
They followed her through empty halls, past abandoned rooms and arrow slits letting in nothing but darkness and the cold night’s air. The wind howled down the hallways as they went, playing an odd sort of tune entirely by accident. Anise sneered to herself as she felt the tension build behind her. The glowstones were few and far between here, leaving large pools of darkness between them, and she felt almost at home.
It was one of the half-breeds that broke the tension. “Where are all the guards?” The fat one asked.
“Gone,” Anise replied. “Seven of them went to go seal this dungeon for good. The rest are headed to town. There’s a small matter to take care of tonight.”
“Seal the dungeon? What?” The godlicker gasped, her ridiculous braids swaying as she stomped up to walk alongside Anise. “You can’t do that?”
“Me? No. The guards? Yes,” Anise said. “King’s orders. As is the business with the town.”
“Business with the town? What business with the town?” The tall half-breed with the bow moved up to flank Anise on her other side.
Anise halted, and nodded to a thick wooden door. “There’s the exit. I trust you can find your way home?” She opened it, letting a sliver of moonlight into the darkness.
“What business with the town?” The tall green freak insisted, moving towards her, pushing away the fat one’s cautioning hand.
Anise ignored him, walked past him to kneel by Celia. “Thank you so much for trusting me,” she said, icy blue eyes staring into the girl’s own green ones. “I won’t forget it. We’re going to sort matters out with Caradon, and then your long nightmare will be over. We will do what we must, and then I will help you, Cecilia. I will help you become who you were meant to be.”
“Nightmare?” Celia blinked, staring uneasily at the pale white arm, almost shining in the moonlight, and the bloody hue of the scarlet nails on her shoulder. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“You will, soon. Which is good, because we’ve got so much to talk about,” Anise smiled. “But you’re going to have to hurry if you want to say goodbye to him.” Anise turned and stood, stepping back out of the moonlight into darkness, regarding the children without pity. “That goes for all of you. Say goodbye to everyone you know and love, children. Ladybug ladybug, fly away home…”
Green skin turned pale. The children backed away from her as one, and Celia clutched Threadbare tight as they ran out the door. Anise smiled. “No,” she said, grabbing at the air well after they’d left. “Wait,” she said, going to the door. “Stop!” she commanded the air, shutting the door.
She gave it another five minutes to make sure they weren’t coming back or anything stupid like that, then hauled out a disk of black marble. She kissed it, then knelt, holding it aloft with one hand as she watched a red image blur into existence, standing on the flat disk. A man in heavy armor, his horned helm crowning plate worked with demonic faces and glowing with its own enchantments.
“Master,” she whispered. “The children have escaped me. I tried to stop them, but failed.”
His anger smote her down, and she fell, gasping as she continued. “Cecilia is returning home, master, home to Caradon! But her friends, I don’t think… I think they might go into the town! I fear… I fear we have loose ends.”
Her master bowed his head. Seconds passed, and Anise kept her face sorrowful, kept her ambition caged in her heart, hoping against hope that she’d struck the right tone…
“No loose ends,” her master said. “We planned for this, if necessary. Once Cecilia is clear, put the town to the sword. Then join me. It’s time to end this sordid farce.”
“Thy will be done,” she said, closing her eyes. “My love…”
THREADBARE’S CHARACTER SHEET
Name: Threadbare Age: 9 days Jobs: Greater Toy Golem Level 9 Bear Level 6 Ruler Level 3 Scout Level 3 Tailor Level 3 Model Level 2 Necromancer Level 1 Duellist Level 1
Attributes: Strength: 68 Constitution: 72 Hit Points: 192 Armor: 28 Intelligence: 46 Wisdom: 75(80) Sanity: 121(126) Mental Fortitude: 18 Dexterity: 35 Agility: 51 Stamina: 96 Endurance: 38 Charisma: 52(57) Willpower: 36 Moxie: 88(93) Cool: 20(30) Perception: 57 Luck: 49 Fortune: 106 Fate: 9
Generic Skills Brawling - Level 20 (21) Climb - Level 6 Clubs and Maces - Level 9 Dagger - Level 9 Dodge - Level 2 Fishing - Level 1 Ride - Level 7 Stealth - Level 3 Swim - Level 2
Greater Toy Golem Skills Adorable - Level 15 Gift of Sapience - Level NA Golem Body - Level 19 Innocent Embrace - Level 8 Magic Resistance -Level 4
Bear Skills Animalistic Interface - NA Claw Swipes - 16 Forage - 7 Growl - 1 Hibernate - 1 Scents and Sensibility - 10 Stubborn - 7 Toughness - 11
Ruler Skills Emboldening Speech - Level 1 Identify Subject - Level 1 Noblesse Oblige - Level 1 Royal Request - Level 1 Simple Decree - Level 1
Scout Skills Camouflage - Level 1 Firestarter - Level 1 Keen Eye - Level 1 Sturdy Back - Level 5 Wind’s Whisper - Level 1
Tailor Skills Talioring - Level 10 Clean and Press - Level 1
Model Skills Dietary Restriction - Level 1 Fascination - Level 2 Flex - Level 1 Self-Esteem - Level 1 Work it Baby - Level 2
Necromancer Skills Assess Corpse - Level 1 Command the Dead - Level 1 Soulstone - Level 1 Speak With Dead -Level 1 Zombies - Level 1
Duelist Skills Challenge - Level 1 Dazzling Entrance - Level 1 Fancy Flourish - Level 1 Guard Stance - Level 1 Weapon Specialist - Level 1 (Brawling) Equipment
Rod of Baronly Might (Level 5 Club, +5 CHA, +5 WIS, +10 Cool) Quests
The End of Innocence 2
THE SHAMAN
Zuula sat on her porch, and listened to the night. Listened to the song of hunting creatures falling silent, listened to trees rustling against the wind, and finally, listened to the sound of running feet moving poorly through her woods.
It was time. She reached for her mask-
-and made her perception check, as she realized that she knew the sounds of those particular approaching feet. She stood bolt upright, and stared out at the woods, possibilities churning in her mind. No, this would not do!
“Mom!” Jarrik shouted, as he burst out of the treeline; first as usual, her little scout. But she pushed down motherly pride, drowning it in a sea of motherly worry.
“What you do? What you do here? You should no be here!”
“Mom, they’re going to kill everyone! The soldiers are here to kill everyone!”
“Yes, which is why you must go!” Zuula shouted, green knuckles turning white as she gripped the porch.
“No! We’re not leaving you!”
“Child!” Zuula threw up her hands as the others came out of the trees, Garon’s forced march faltering as he reached his destination, and the others who had been swept up in it coming down from it, feeling their stamina drain all at once.
“Ksh! Inside, quickly!” The shaman commanded, holding the curtain open. “Much to do and you can help, but then you go!”
The children piled in, Celia clutching Threadbare tight, and Zuula punched through the floorboards, pulling rag-wrapped bundles from below and tossing them. “You, Jarrik, take these.” She threw a bundle at him. “Put high in trees around clearing.”
Jarrik opened the bundle, and looked at its contents with a puzzled expression. “But these are-“
“Do it!” Zuula bellowed, digging out another parcel. “Bak’Shaz, here be food. Elven waybread. Keeps forever, little bit last whole day. Elves not miss it, they be Zuula’s gumbo and shit out long ago. Porkins be out back. Get him and get back in here.”
“Oh man, Porkins!” Bak’Shaz took the pack and scrambled. “I almost forgot about him!”
“And for you,” she turned to Celia, with a large sack and a bundle of papers. “Take these. Animate with scrolls and invite to party. Then invite Zuula in and leave party.”
“What? You’re…” Celia took the bag and looked at the five items inside. “Okay…”
“Once they animated go put in treeline around clearing. Ask Jarrik if need help. Go!”
Celia scrambled.
Zuula looked up at Garon and sighed. He had his arms folded and his eyes set in a familiar glare. The same glare he always gave her as a child, whenever she tried to get him to eat sprouts.
“I’m not leaving you here,” Garon said. “Not alone.”
He never did eat those fucking sprouts, Zuula reflected.
“Your father left Zuula here. Trouble coming for him too,” Zuula said, thinking fast. “Need him if we gonna win this one.”
Garon squinted at her, and his eyes un-narrowed a bit. “You have a plan?”
“Yes,” she lied. “He out at Caradon’s. You go get him!” Zuula tossed him the last sack.
He opened it, and gasped. “This is… you just made a quest out of it? What the heck, Mom?”
“You get bonuses, right? There reward. Don’t spend none until you get you father safe!”
“This is at least…”
“Mordecai maybe not take foolish daughter Mastoya’s money when she send it, but Zuula got no problem with pride. Use it if you need to.”
“All right…” He frowned. “I don’t know if the others have the stamina to get there. I should leave them here-“
Zuula almost howled in frustration. “Unclever child! You be talking to shaman! Get them in here!”
After a few frenzied minutes, the crew was assembled. They’d left Beryl back in town to warn her family, so she was out of the equation, but Celia was looking ragged, Jarrik was wobbling, and even Bak’shaz, her little ball of energy, was drooping a bit.
Zuula sighed. “Gonna use the heavy stuff.”
Garon’s eyes flew wide open. “Whoa, mom, no, that stuff is-“
“Then make sure they don’t never get it again. Not for about five years or so.” Zuula reached into the bundle of herbs on the wall, pulled out a bright green and orange one that almost seemed to almost glow with slickness, and threw it in the fire. Smoke billowed up, and the children coughed as it filled their lungs.
When the smoke died down, they were vibrating, literally vibrating as the boards underneath them rattled.
“What is this?” Celia said, staring at her fingers. “I feel so weird… status?”
There was a pause, as the other brothers did so, all save Garon who palmed his face.
“Um…” Celia frowned at the air, blinking five times faster than she normally could. “What is the ‘high’ condition, please? And why is everything all weird colors?”
“You don’t want to know,” Garon said. “Come on, let’s go before it wears off. Forced March!”
Zuula watched them go, then sucked in the smoke with a few deep breaths. The old familiar smell hit her again, peeling a year or two off her lifespan and filling her veins with fire. Being a shaman, with the poison resistance she had, it carried more benefits than the agility and stamina restore and buff it had given the children. It also added to her perception. And right now her heightened ears heard the flap of leathery wings in the distance and the tromp of metal-shod feet.
She stepped outside, seeing the air swirl with smoke, seeing through the darkness as clearly as if it was day. Better, even. Darkspawn was a good trait, about half the time.
“Call Winds,” she said, waving her good club in the air, and the distant howling changed, started to grow as they peeled away from the mountains and gathered behind her. In the distance a storm rose, a good ways west. For now.
Then, before she could regret it, Zuula clamped the mask on her face. It bit into her, taking its toll in blood.
“Slow Regeneration,” she gasped, casting her buffs before her mind could go to the place the mask sent it to. “Beastly Skill Borrow, Owl! Call Vines! Call Thorns! Fast… ah… hah, hahahhaha…” She laughed, as the mask became her, and she became it.
“Come then!” She roared, in three voices at once, raising her club to the air. “Come and die!”
*****
THE SCOUT
Mordecai approached Caradon’s house with caution, caution that turned into concern, as he stepped out of the woods. Half the windows were broken, one wall was covered with holes, and the yard was filled with bloodstains and fur.
Mordecai knelt down, looked at it. “Manticore?” he gasped in disbelief. Then the old scout remembered what he’d taught so many others, and stepped back into cover, fading into the trees as he activated his camouflage. Wind’s Whisper, he thought, and the skill activated. “Caradon, ya in there? Give me a sign if it’s safe ta come in,” Mordecai mouthed.
After a pause, a bedsheet waved from one of the upper story windows.
Mordecai walked into the lower room. The table was on the floor, legs shattered, and the chairs were scattered kindling. A glass picture frame lay shattered and spiderwebbed on the table remnants. All the pictures and trinkets on the mantle lay scattered about, and the floor around the fireplace was scorched so badly that he could see the basement through it. Smoke filled the air.
And Emmet was nowhere to be seen.
The stairs looked broken, gaping gaps where some steps should be, and jagged nailed boards sticking up from impact craters. Emmet had done that, Mordecai could tell.
“Run Silent,” Caradon shouted from upstairs.
“Run Deep!” Mordecai shouted back. “What the hell, Caradon?”
“Get upstairs!”
Mordecai leaped, caught the upper railing, and flipped himself over, hatchet out and ready for trouble. Then he relaxed. Nobody but the old man was up here, his senses told him. And two things moving clumsily, one big and one tiny. Animi or golems, and the big one was Emmet.
“Invite Golem,” he heard Caradon mutter, as he entered the old man’s room. Books lay strewn all over the place, one of the windows was broken, manticore spines were embedded in the wall across from the window, and Caradon turned to him with a sigh, putting down his cards. “Still not responding to that,” Caradon explained, beaming. “Probably intelligence related. She can’t read or speak, I bet that’s why!” The golem maker said, standing and waving his hands. His clothing was torn, his apron hanging askew.
“What happened?”
“I succeeded.” Caradon smiled. “I succeeded.” He pointed at a tiny black teddy bear, who waved back and showed him her cards.
“A grindluck deck? What…” Mordecai’s eyes went wide.
“She came out with minimal luck. That’s what caused all this. Worse than an infant’s, worse than a goblin’s. But she’s up to about twenty-five now. We’ll keep working on that, won’t we Missus Fluffbear?”
“That’s Amelia’s old… bear…” Mordecai blinked.
“Yes. And she works. They’re people, Mordecai. They can gain stats, and I’m pretty sure they can gain class levels.”
“Going by tha last teddy bear you made, yeah, yeah they can.”
“Oh, did he pick up something? That’s nice,” Caradon said. “But it doesn’t matter. You’re here now, and I need you to stand guard.”
“Did he pick up something? What are ya talkin’ about? You mean you didn’t give him tha rul…” Mordecai froze. “Wait, guard? What are you-“
“It works. And I know what I did wrong. I’m going to give Emmet the upgrade, I’ve got just enough sanity left for that.”
Mordecai froze. “Caradon…”
“He’s a superior golem, Toy Golems are at the bottom of the chain. Armor golems will surely have superior luck!”
“Caradon-“
“These are our hopes and dreams, Mordecai! Moreso than we ever planned! It’s a chance, it’s our only chance, and every minute I delay is a minute that the King’s forces draw around us! Balmoran has fallen, Mordecai, and this is our only hope! This is Celia’s only hope!” Cardon’s fist hit the table.
