Midnight Bounties 4 - Chapter 9

“Did you hear that?” I asked Tyfus.

The gnome didn’t even look up from his book. A soft warm wind rustled the golden leaves of the strange forest path we were riding through. I could see the muscles on Wolf’s neck tense. The deviltail seemed to have picked up on something.

“Tyfus, eyes off your book. There’s something out here.”

“It’s probably just goblins,” he muttered, waving me off.

“Goblins,” I grumbled to myself.

I highly doubted goblins would show up that far south. They didn’t like the heat and neither did I, especially fully armored as I was. I had made every precaution since I never actually travelled that close to the Shan’tar border.

“Piss on it,” Tyfus spat, shaking his empty flask. “I’m out of wine. Give me some.”

“No, I’m not going to give you any. The wine in the Vaultpacks is for Snowdog. Shieldmother said not to come empty-handed, so don’t even think about it.”

“Fucking—then give me some of your whisky.”

“No. You shouldn’t drink so much on the road anyway. Besides, you should have brought more along, you cheap ass gnome.”

“What are you, my mom?”

“I’m the guy who’s going to leave your drunken ass in the dirt if shit hits the windmill. Now keep your eyes peeled. There’s something out there.”

I could swear I heard the clanking of steel somewhere in the woods.

“I can’t ride sober, Frank,” Tyfus said, ignoring my remarks. “It’s been five days already and my patience is running thin.”

“So is mine, gnome.”

“Bah! Come on, just a sip! I’m not going to make it, Frank!”

I cursed under my breath and tossed my flask over into Tyfus’ lap. I heard him unscrew it and take way more than one sip. Fuck it. I couldn’t take any more of listening to his sober whiny ass, anyway. Besides, more than three-hundred miles in, we should have been close to Snowdog’s enclave anyway. It couldn’t be more than another day or two.

If we were lucky.

Tyfus smacked his lips, spurred his pony on to match Wolf, then handed the half-empty flask back to me.

“Fey cried when we left,” he said out of the blue.

“I know.”

“She tried to hide it, but I saw it. Nothing misses my keen eye. I think she loves your sorry ass. Can’t say I understand why. You’re not the most handsome of fellows.”

“Mhm.”

He continued, though I preferred him to stay quiet.

“Gods know you aren’t the smartest, either.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you smell, you know that, Frank? I mean you built that bathhouse and all, but you never use it. That poor girl.”

A small, almost human-like animal jumped from a branch on one side of the road and landed on the other side startling both of us. The creature looked our way, sneered showing off its fangs, then vanished into the gold-brown canopy.

“Black monkeys,” Tyfus said. “Some say they were human mages that the Shan’tar turned to animals years back.”

“They are?”

“Some say, Frank. Can’t believe everything you hear, you know? No critical thinking in that skull of yours.”

“Gods,” I sighed, looking up at the merciless sun beating down on us. Five days of Tyfus was more than any man, woman, or goblin should have to endure. Hell didn’t sound even so bad at that point.

“Anyway, as I was saying, love is blind, lucky for you, eh?”

“What happened between you and Tarnia?” The mage grunted and looked away. “You told me you’d spill the beans back in the city. You haven’t spared a single word. So? What’s up with you and your firebird.”

“Why do you have to make this journey more difficult than it already is?” Tyfus asked exasperated.

I kept my mouth shut as the gnome shifted in his saddle.

“Fine, I’ll tell you,” he said, extending his tiny hand toward my flask. I handed it over and he took another three big gulps, then wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his robe.

“She was my teacher at the Academy,” he said and then went silent as if that was all.

“And?”

“Well, can’t you infer anything? Bah, of course not. Fine, I’ll tell you, gods forbid you upset that brain of yours with a thought. Tarnia taught Destruction magic, and I was her best student, obviously. Anyway, since my father’s business went dry, he couldn’t pay for my studies anymore, so Tarnia helped me pay for my tuition. A year later, both my parents fell ill with the same disease. They died within two days of each other.”

The gnome looked ahead of us with a flat stare. It might have been the first time I saw an inch of sadness on the mage’s face. Or it might have just been the fact he was out of wine.

“Tarnia paid for my lodgings at the school, she paid for my tuition and well…I guess we grew close somehow.”

“Until you betrayed her?”

“I didn’t—just fucking listen, alright?” He grabbed the flask of whisky from my hand again without asking and emptied it.

“Once I reached the Sixth Circle, she pushed me to go for the seventh. Now what you need to know about Seventh Circle Mages is that they have to bind themselves to the Academy with a Death Pledge. Meaning that I’d have to be on call for those old, demented idiots until death do us apart, you see? I wouldn’t even become much more powerful but I could be a professor. Have my life sorted out. Take Tarnia as my wife. Become demented myself, you know? I couldn’t do that.

“So you betrayed her?”

“Just listen! I didn’t betray her. I accepted.”

“You did?”

“Well, sort of. I found what you could call a cover spell. A spell that acts or mirrors the Death Pledge but doesn’t come with all the burden, you know? I thought those old idiots wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. I’d become a Seventh Circle Mage, but if I ever decided that I had enough, off I’d go. No more Tyfus, no more Academy. My freedom is my everything, Frank, you know that.”

“Aye.”

“So at the ceremony where I was supposed to pledge my life, I used the cover spell instead of the Death Pledge and…well all hell broke loose. Turned out I hadn’t read the fine print for cover spells because there was really no way to fake a spell like the Death Pledge, eh…”

Tyfus rubbed his forehead.

“Shit hit the windmill?”

“You can say that. Things went bad, Frank. The ritual chamber was destroyed, some of the old mages were hurt, and I burned off Tarnia’s hair, eyebrows and all. I was kicked out the Academy, no surprise there, but so was Tarnia. She was stripped of her title and banned from the Academy forever. Obviously after that, she’s been a bit pissy.”

“A bit pissy?”

“You know what I mean.”

“So you destroyed her entire life, have you?”

“She’s doing alright, I’d say. Castelian’s right hand and all. She’s still one of the most powerful mages in the world. I’d say her life is fine. Better than mine anyway.”

There might have been some regret on Tyfus’ face. I couldn’t really tell, though.

“Right, are you happy now? I told you about the dumbest thing I ever did and if you want to know whether I regret it, or whether I had learned something from it all, my answer is no. I did what I had to do to keep my freedom. Nothing is tying down this gnome, Frank. Nothing. Not even Tarnia Kinfall.”

“You nervous about facing her in the Ashpit?” I asked, not wanting to dwell on his words of regret or freedom.

Tyfus tsked and chuckled.

“One thing at a time, Frank. Now!” he said, pulling his book up again. “Let me read in peace. Some of us have brains to train.”

We rode for another few minutes when I heard that clank of steel again. Perhaps even some voices coming from our right.

“You must have heard that, Tyfus!”

“I only hear an old man shitting his pants over rustling leaves.”

The pony he rode grunted and then suddenly stopped on the dirt path, not willing to move an inch. Tyfus finally put the book away, frowned, and spurred it on angrily, but the pony remained standing in place.

“You scared my horse with your paranoia.”

“That pony has more sense than you do. Keep your ears to the ground.”

Tyfus sighed and shook his head. He spurred the poor thing on again, but his mount wouldn’t budge.

“Come on, you filthy stupid piece of—”

A pebble struck the gnome in the forehead. His head snapped back, and he flew off his saddle and into the dirt. The pony neighed and raised it forelegs in fear. I jumped off Wolf, landing in the dry dirt. I swung Mercy off my back and activated (Demon Skin) as I scanned our surroundings, trying to figure out where the shooter was. It was hard to see through the thick shrubbery of the southern forest.

“Motherfucker!” the gnome roared and shot to his feet faster than I’d thought was possible for him. A fireball was already forming in his right hand.

Before I had time to even suggest any kind of strategy, the mage flung the molten ball of fire at the tree line to his right. It exploded against the nearest grey and white trunk, splitting it in two, then scattered among the trees behind it, lighting everything on fire. A wave of heat and blinding light washed over me and I had to cover my eyes and pull Wolf back not to get caught in the blast radius.

I first smiled, then full out laughed as I eyed the destroyed patch of forest. Within the circle of ashes left in Tyfus’ spell, stood a dozen men and dwarves in rugged clothes and with terrified faces. They were armed as all random brigands and bandits were, with rusty blades, chewed-out cudgels, and the occasional board with a nail in it.

 One was rolling on the ground, his hair on fire while two others tried to help him extinguish it. Half of them just stood there, unable to realize just how much shit they were in. Their clothes and beards were still steaming. One of them was holding a sling with trembling hands and only two had sense enough to run away.

“Look at this Frank,” Tyfus said in a half-whisper, a big evil grin on his face.

“Men!” their leader called, trying to muster a pinch of bravery, “Get them!” He pointed his deteriorating sword at me but none of his men moved. Not at first, at least.

“Are they for real?” I said, trying not to laugh.

“Go!” he yelled again, pushing the nearest man forward. He stumbled, looked to his commander as if begging for his life, then as his plead fell short, ran at us.

“Don’t do it boy,” I said, raising my voice so he could hear me, though I sort of hoped he still would.

As he closed in, Wolf roared and took his position up next to me, showing his many, many sharp teeth. The man stopped mid-stride and almost fell over.

“Go Wilmore, or you’ll answer to me!” his red-faced boss yelled. “Turnip, Lolek, go!” he ordered the others.

I reined Wolf in and stepped forward, offering Wilmore a clean hit. With plenty of trepidation, the shaggy-haired brigand swung his cudgel against the side of my ribs, and I didn’t even try to block it. The cudgel connected with my Blackmaw Warward armor and was suddenly torn from his hand and disappeared into the armor itself thanks to my breastplate’s magical ability. There was a 50% chance it would absorb any weapon from creatures ten levels lower than I was.

The brigand looked at his hands and then back at me.

“Thanks,” I said, appreciating the 1% increase in armor that the Blackmaw Warward offered every time the disarm ability procced.

“Wha—” I smacked him on the head with an open palm so hard, Wilmore did a little flip before he kissed the hard ground.

Tyfus was already concocting another round of devastating spells, arcane energies swirling around the mage. I raised a hand to stop him before he blew us all to kingdom come.

“Hold on, Tyfus, you had your fun.”

“At least let me kill the one with the slingshot!”

“Hey! You better watch your mouths!” their leader threatened as they tried to circle us. His eyes were plastered to Wilmore who lay face-down in the dirt.

“Now hand over your—your coin, damn it!”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Now, I have a question. And if you answer—”

One of the brigands came at me with a clumsy swing of his sword. I grabbed the rusty blade with an open palm, crushed it in my hand, then grabbed the man by the neck and threw him at the nearest burning tree. His back crunched against the trunk, and he lifelessly dropped to the ground.

“As I was saying,” I continued. “I have a question and if you answer nicely, I’ll let you go.”

“Let them go?” Tyfus snapped.

“Shut up. Yes, I’ll let them go.”

“We’re Dragonfire Deathblade Company! We don’t negotiate with victims! We take what is ours!”

Tyfus laughed like a maniac at that.

“Did you hear that name, Frank? I’m dying!”

“You will be soon, gnome!”

“Is there,” I continued, raising my tone, “A path to an alcove anywhere here? We’re looking for Snowdog’s enclave. Tell me where it is and I’ll spare your lives.”

If the men hadn’t been wavering in their resolve so far, they sure as hell were now.

“Boss, if these are Snowdog’s people—” one of them started.

“Look at their gear! They must be! Let’s get the fuck out of here!” the big, red-bearded man seemed uncertain of what to do at first, then he suddenly slammed his sword against the nearest trunk in a fit of blind rage.

“I will not be talked to like that! You will follow my orders! Get them now!”

Another two of his men followed his orders, and bravely made for the woods. The others remained standing.

“What will it be, boss?” I asked.

Before he could answer, another of his men cried out in a panicked voice, “Half a day’s ride south-east and when you come to a big ol’ black tree, turn right. There’s a small rocky path leading to the alcove there!”

Just as he finished talking, his boss stomped towards him, swinging his sword and cutting the man down.

“Gods damn it, man,” I hissed. “Is your brain damaged or something? Tyfus, did you fry his brain? He’s an idiot!”

“Now you die!” he roared and came at me, the remaining four men seemingly too scared to disobey, did the same.

I grabbed Mercy with both hands and swung it at him with such force it broke through his sword, his skull and the rest of his body, splitting the man in two. Blood and black mist sprayed in all directions, covering his men.

“Holy shit!” Tyfus barked, laughing his head off, then his expression darkened in a heartbeat. “I get to kill the others.”

“Wait!” I snapped, raising a hand. “Men, I have the information I need. I don’t need your lives. Run and I’ll pretend this little interaction never happened.”

I had no reason to end the rest of them. They offered shit experience and were no threat to either of us. I had no hate in my heart for bandits and brigands, if things had turned out just a little different, I could have been one of them.

The fellows stopped, looked at each other, mouthed a thank you, and made for the forest. I watched them go, packing away Mercy when I felt the familiar heat of another fireball flying behind my back. I turned around and saw Tyfus eyeing his spell slam into the remaining men, who unfortunately for them, had decided to stay grouped up.

The fireball connected with the first brigand, exploded into superheated shards of fire, and tore into the others, the trees, the shrubbery, and everything else in its vicinity.

My Deeproot chimed as they died.

[You have slain a Level 33 DRAGONFIRE DEATHBLADE BRIGAND]

[You have slain a Level 31 DRAGONFIRE DEATHBLADE BRIGAND]

[You have slain a Level 29 DRAGONFIRE DEATHBLADE BRIGAND]

[You have slain a Level 33 DRAGONFIRE DEATHBLADE BRIGAND]

[You have received a share of 1,230 experience points toward your SPELLMONGER CLASS]

[SPELLMONGER CLASS EXPERIENCE: 17, 390/23,000]

“Tyfus!” I yelled, getting into the mage’s face.

“What?”

“Why did you do that? They were—”

“Trying to rob and kill us and when they realized they couldn’t, they ran away,” he said without so much as a hint of emotion.

I sighed shaking my head.

“If I tell you not to do something I need you to—bah!” I muttered, realizing who I was talking to.

I saddled Wolf again and repeated the words from earlier so I didn’t forget where we were supposed to go.

“You got to kill some, I get to kill some. It’s only fair, Frank.”

I looked over my shoulder for a moment, giving the gnome a flat glare, then spurred Wolf on, not waiting for the mage and his pony.

“It’s only fair!” Tyfus yelled after me. “Stop being a drama queen, and wait for me, you ass! What if something more dangerous pops up and I’m all alone!”