Reborn as the First Boss, Book 8 Prologue

Prologue – Captured

“Well, now. Look what we have here. A rat scurrying about in the Northern Reaches. Wearing the signs of one of those Eclanan gods.”

Thaldruck Coinjaw smiled wickedly at the human his squad had captured near Arrowvein, one of the towns that helped support the Steelstone Wall, a series of fortifications linked by a wall of steel layered over stone, carrying the best enchantments that the elves of fallen Smsera and the Dwarves of Berngron Hold (which lay underneath the mountains that once separated Dascora and Yudor) could lay upon it with all their many years of experience. Enchantments of to increase the wall’s strength, and repel enemy spells and projectiles. Enchantments to heal the wall over time.

The dwarf chuckled as he looked down at his captured prey. “You see, human, I don’t recognize you. Neither do any of me boys. Which means we don’t reckon you belong here. Fortunately, we know someone who can get to the bottom of this. She’s very interested to hear what any unfamiliar clergy have to say, yeah?”

The door to the small jail opened, and an elf in chainmail covered in leather armor, strode in, blade and pistol on her hip. Captain Sarya Sylmare smiled with a look that could have turned a boiling pot to ice in an instant. “Ah, Thaldruck. I see you and your boys have outdone yourself, this time.”

“So, our agreement holds?”

The elf nodded. “Yes, our agreement holds. So long as the Jadebloods continue to let us know of anyone who doesn’t belong, and you don’t transport weapons or do anything else that will force him to take notice of you, General Helecan will ‘overlook’ your clan’s unregistered transport business.”

Thaldruck nodded. That was what they had agreed, not long after Yudor joined Dascora, and Helecan was named General and Baron over the area. The Jadeblood Clan had exclusive smuggling rights between Berngron and Dascora, and Helecan would look the other way, so long as they didn’t move weapons, captured any shady folks who were trying to sneak around, and didn’t get sloppy or do something that forced a response from the general. He didn’t even ask for bribes or tribute.

Not a bad deal for the Jadebloods, in all honesty. Not something that a human would have ever considered. But elves and dwarves, they lived longer, unless something caused Grusseth’s axe to hew them early. At least for dwarves like him. The elves had their own God of Death, like the humans did. Unlike those shits in the Theocracy, though, the elves didn’t go forcing their gods on others, so he didn’t much care about them, and made it his business not to give them a reason to care about him.

“Then we’ll be off, and leave ye to it.”

Sarya nodded as the dwarves filed out of the room, only to be replaced by trusted men under her command. Assassins and interrogators, who were used to doing anything necessary to get information out of their prey, even using a Mind Sorcerer’s abilities to rip the truth from their mind, if need be. They were not blinded by religious fervor, like the Eclanan inquisitors. This was a cold, practical exercise, concerned only with the truth, without any religious claptrap.

As the door closed behind her, she observed the man she’d been brought in to question. He was handsome, for a human. Even in his unkempt state, bound hand and foot with chains behind his back, a rag stuffed in his mouth for a gag, his robes torn and stained, and a bruise over one eye from where Thaldruck had ‘encouraged’ him to stay before chaining him up in this unmarked prison, he looked almost artificially handsome, as though a glamour was cast over him.

Then, there were the robes. Tattered as they were, they still looked grander than the typical priest of the human pantheon, and they were marked with the symbol of Eztar, the human God of Death. But he wore no armor, and had no obviously magical gear, like most Inquisitors or priests had, other than a dagger that he’d been wearing on his hip, and now lay next to its sheath upon the table. A dagger that defied her attempts to [Identify] it.

Eztar

Human Male

Level 40 Priest / Scribe

Titles: Fallen God

And, of course, there was the [Appraise] results when she looked at him. That was either the absolutely most idiotic [False Appraisal] in the history of Itanara, or any other world, or this was actually a god descended into a mortal frame. With mortal limits. If she hadn’t seen the notices from the Voice of the World, and had other assurances, she would have immediately assumed it was a [False Appraisal].

“Valter?”

One of the men beside her nodded as she spoke his name. The Dark Priest’s tone was as grim as always when he spoke, but she could hear an undercurrent there. Possible anticipation. “I can sense the shreds of divinity. He’s real.”

She saw the look of hope that flashed in the god’s eyes when Valter confirmed his identity. Every priest and holy warrior in the Northern Reaches had felt the god’s descent, no matter who they prayed to. She’d had her informants out looking for the fallen god, so, when the Jadebloods contacted her by message stone, saying they’d found someone acting odd, she’d been ready. Now, with the god’s identity confirmed, they could get to the good part. The part she was most interested in.

“Mph!” The god tried to say something through the gag, but she didn’t care. After all, this wasn’t a rescue, or anything like that.

“Excellent,” Sarya said. “Make preparations to move him, quietly. General Helecan wishes to present him as a gift to the King for his anniversary of ten years upon the throne. His fate will be decided there.”

The god looked shocked as he came to the realization that she wasn’t going to help him. Instead, she offered him another smile that could freeze the ocean, and looked him in the eye. “The Theocracy that your church helps prop up has been a blight upon the continent since it was established. Oh, maybe you didn’t give them orders to be like that, but you definitely didn’t send any divine revelations to stop them. Which means you’re complicit. And there are a lot of people in Dascora who would be all too happy to see the Theocracy weakened.”

She paused, letting him get the full measure of her meaning. “Now, I do need to keep you from getting any silly ideas, like trying to escape, or call your followers to rescue you. Which means we need to do something about your free will. Just like your wretched Theocracy does to everyone who isn’t just like them. Susane!”

One of her other aides stepped forward, and placed one hand upon the bound god’s forehead. Her voice was crystal clear as she invoked one of her abilities. “[Slave Brand].” Then, once the black mark had appeared on the god’s brow, she looked back to Sarya. The mark changed as she transferred ownership of the slave to the spymistress. “It is done. Thankfully, this is a full descent, instead of an avatar, or it might not have worked.”

“Excellent. Once we have transport ready, we’ll return to the fortress. The General will be pleased to know about this.” Turning back to the god, she said, “I order you to not speak unless spoken to. I order you not to attempt to escape, and to resist any efforts to rescue you to your fullest power. I order you to do no harm to any resident or citizen of Dascora. Nod if you understand.”

The slave god nodded.

“Excellent.”