(Dovakiin)
“So, the great scholar Albrecht decided to categorise the denizens of Heldsgard into four distinct categories; three monstrous, and one non-monstrous,” Walter explained. “Let’s tackle that last one first. Albrecht called this group the ‘Noble Races.’ That’s the normal citizens of Heldsgard – you know, humans, dwarves, gnomes, and halflings. A majority of the country’s population is human, but you do see some dwarves around the place, and Tok Town is full to the brim of gnomes and halflings.
Solstice raised a confused hand. “I’ve not been in Heldsgard long. Do you not have elves here?”
Walter faltered slightly. “Not… anymore. The Breaching, you know. It made things… difficult… for the elf population here. We hardly see any these days. You understand, I’m sure.”
Dovakiin nodded. Although it hadn’t reached Heldsgard, the whole world knew of the Breaching. There were whole swathes of countries that people still couldn’t enter. The less said about that, the better.
Dovakiin noticed Bran’s fist clenching tightly. The man’s knuckles were white, and his eyes showed a sudden flash of pain.
Perhaps Walter noticed this, as he quickly moved on.
“Anyway, the Noble Races live in the Six Cities, and they’re the ones whom it’s your job to protect from the other three categories; the Bold-kin, the Mask-kin, and the Bone-kin. So, let’s talk about those.”
Walter assumed a position at the front of the group, as if he were about to deliver a lecture.
“First of all, Bold-kin. Albrecht categorised these as the obviously monstrous. How did you put it, Dovakiin? The ‘toothy’ kind. Claws, fangs, scales, etc. Some intelligent, some simply beasts, but you only have to take one look at them and you can see that they’re monsters. Dragons are some of the largest and most note-worthy members of this this category…”
Dovakiin’s eyes narrowed. He’d not heard of this Albrecht before, but he was beginning to understand the man’s influence. Dragonborn were not regarded highly in Heldsgard. Claws. Fangs. Scales. Albrecht sounds like a jerk.
“…but the Peryton you all will be hunting later is also in this group. But we’ll get on to that afterwards.”
Walter was not that good at picking up social cues. He didn’t notice Dovakiin’s ill-feelings.
“The next category is the Mask-kin. Now, these are the ones that are subtly monstrous. You usually can’t tell them apart from the Noble Races, right up until you can, haha. They’re the shape-changers. For instance, werewolves, shifters and hags can all fit into this category. Again, some Mask-kin are unintelligent, such as mimics, but Mask-kin generally tend to be intelligent, at least enough to infiltrate a society – otherwise they’d stick out like a sore thumb. You may sometimes be called on to hunt some of these, and you’ll have to employ different tactics to do so.
“Finally, there’s the Bone-kin. The undead. This group is quite the mixed bag. Some, like myself, are fairly easily identified as non-human. The moment you see I’m incorporeal, you can tell. Others, too, are obvious – you hardly have to wonder if an animate skeleton or a zombie is undead or not. But some, like vampires, can be quite difficult to tell apart from their Noble Race counterparts, so you might be tempted to split these up into Bold-kin and Mask-kin. However, Albrecht decided to give all undead their own categorisation, possibly to illustrate that the undead tend to have different needs and behaviours than most other races, and are more closely suited to each other than to any other groups.
“Any questions so far?”
Fledinem raised his hand. “Am I a monster?”
“Why, yes!” said Walter happily. He was getting caught up in the joy of explaining things, and didn’t notice Fledinem’s face darkening. “A Bold-kin, to be exact, as it is quite obvious to see that you’re not a Noble Race…”
He hesitated only when Fledinem took a sudden step forward. The blue giant was a good foot taller than the ghost.
“The Liosalfar are a proud and noble race!” Fledinem said. His voice started to get louder as he went on. “We defend the laws of nature that underpin the universe! Your reality exists because of our efforts! What are you, some kind of Ramag sympathiser?”
Walter floated back a bit. “Er, no! I mean, I don’t know what that is, but probably no! I’m a monster too, technically!”
This was the wrong thing to say. “I’m not a monster!” Fledinem retorted angrily. His colours were starting to swirl a more purple colour, reddening from his usual blue.
Dovakiin decided to step in. He raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture towards Fledinem. This was an important part of his monk training, as of course his hands were deadly weapons and could now be employed if necessary. “All right, let’s calm it down a notch. I’m sure the young ghost didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Young?” said Walter, a little perplexed. “I mean, no, no offense!”
Solstice chuckled, in a cruel sort of way.
Bran did not seem to be paying attention. His eyes were locked somewhere far way.
Fledinem looked up and down the ghost carefully, but allowed Dovakiin to mollify him. He stepped back, and took a seat in one of the library’s chairs.
“I…” Walter started, appearing now to take great caution in his words as he spoke towards Fledinem, “I just mention it because it’s going to effect how Heldsgard is going to view you- not to cause any offense! You just… need to be careful, or people might be… surprised to see you.”
Fledinem stared at him, coldly.
“Well, as long as you are with the others, you should be fine! They all look normal enough. And as long as you are being nice and non-violent… Ahem. Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes, the reason I wanted to explain all this is because I, and the Vance family generally, will be supporting you. We will be giving you your assignments, based on rumours and reports we have received of strange activity, or disappearances and the like. Then, once you’ve got a better idea of what exactly it is that you’re facing, you can make use of this library to find out information on the monster in question. I’ve gathered books from all over, treatise that cover almost every kind of monster. Together, we can narrow down exactly what it is that you’re hunting, and thus can learn of any weaknesses or tricks you need to be aware of!”
He gestured at the library around him, a little desperately. “And I’ve categorised the library into three sections – Bold-kin, Mask-kin and Bone-kin! There! Isn’t that clever?”
He seemed genuinely pleased at the nice, orderly nature of his library. It was obvious that the place was a source of pride to him.
The rest of the group did not seem that impressed. But this did intrigue Dovakiin.
“Ok,” said Dovakiin, “now I have a few questions.”
“Er, of course!” Walter said gratefully. “Go right ahead.”
Dovakiin scratched his chin. “You said that we would be going to the site of these disappearances, and investigating to find out what’s causing them. Will that just be just here in Bildvatn?”
“Oh, no, my father intends you to be deployed in all of the Six Cities. It’s very important that we get you name recognition.”
Interesting, thought Dovakiin. But he tucked this information away for now, in favour of his more immediate point.
“But that’s weeks of travel. How are we supposed to come back here and research a monster every time we want to check up on some facts? Surely more people could be attacked in the meantime?”
“Ah, yes! Your pamphlets talk about that!”
For the first time, Dovakiin looked at the small, ornate pamphlets that Walter’s Mage Hand had thrust into his arms. They were carefully printed in black and red ink, and were titled, “Joining the Vance Monster Hunters: a Vanguard For Our Nation. By Walter Vance.”
They also contained too much text.
“Er, any chance of a summary?” Dovakiin asked, grinning apologetically. He wasn’t about to read all that.
“Oh,” said Walter, sounding a little crestfallen. “Er, yes, of course. Well basically, as part of our employment strategy, we’ll be providing you with other resources as well as just information. Not only will we have an armoury at which you can purchase weapons at incredibly cheap rates-”
“Yeah, about that,” said Bran. He had apparently re-joined the conversation. “Wouldn’t it be better if we could just, you know, be given a nice set of weapons?”
But Walter shook his head. “Oh, no. I mean, maybe if you’re missing anything basic, we could maybe help you out. But do you know how much wages a basic labourer makes for a day’s work?”
“Er,” Bran mumbled, “back in Tok Town, I’d get about a gold a day?”
“And do you know how much a regular sword costs?”
“Well, I kind of got ma axes from family, so…”
“About 15 gold. But that’s just a sword. A basic healing potion, sort of a necessity for any adventuring? 50 gold. Armour? If you want half plate, 750 gold. If you want full plate, 1,500 gold. And it just starts going up exponentially after that. Once you start getting into enchanted items, you’re looking at thousands or tens of thousands of gold, to equip just one of you fully.”
The Adventurer’s Economy. It’s quite the killer, Dovakiin said, nodding. Because of its costs, it was tempting for newbies to skimp on that up-front investment, and get cheaper gear. But such a choice could mean you weren’t protected when something tried to eat you. That was often fatal. But the rewards… Just a single powerful magic item could set you up for life.
“My father,” Walter said, continuing, “my father got quite high up in the rankings.”
He gestured at the walls and library around him. “That’s where all this comes from. But we are not made of money. We are not quite prepared to invest that heavily in you before we know what you are capable of.”
“Ah, fair,” Bran said. “Just thought ah’d try.”
Dovakiin got the impression he was hoping to save on costs so he’d have more money for drinks later. Dovakiin would have to keep an eye on that. The Vance’s had given them 200 gold for just showing up. That was potentially a lot of drinking money.
“But anyway,” Walter continued, “to answer your question, Dovakiin, the other resource we’ll be giving you are stones of sending. With them, you can communicate with each other whenever you are within a few miles of each other. So, basically as long as you are in the same city. And with one of them, you can communicate with me as long as we are on the same plane.
“So, you know,” he said with a chuckle, “pretty good range.”
“Oooh,” Dovakiin conceded, “fancy.” He was actually impressed.
Walter’s mage hand zipped away, and came back with a bag that clinked heavily as it moved. With a thud, the bag landed on the reading table in the centre of the room.
“Help yourselves,” Walter said. “The pamphlet explains how to use them. The red one is for the team leader – so, you, Dovakiin.”
Interestingly, everyone was more interested to get themselves a free Sending Stone. The group quickly crowded around, and started rummaging. The stones were about the size of a pebble, small enough to fit into the palm of your hand, and were mostly a grey colour except for Dovakiin’s, which was indeed a kind of dusty red. They were etched all over with arcane runes that glowed faintly.
“The red stone does have limitations,” Walter explained. “It can only contact me three times a day, and only for a minute at a time. After that, you’ll have to wait for the charges to restore themselves at the next dawn. But still, that should be plenty of time for me to relay to you any important information that you might need. And if you happen to be local, feel free to have a look around the library for yourselves. There are all sorts of interesting books here, and it might not hurt to familiarise yourselves with some of them.”
Having someone on standby to provide tactical information at a moment’s notice… Now, that does sound useful, Dovakiin thought, thinking about his earlier adventuring days. He’d never had that kind of support then.
Of course, the stones must be expensive. So, the Vances were willing to put in some investment.
But then he was struck by another thought.
“Are all the monsters in Heldsgard catalogued here?” he asked Walter.
“Yes, essentially.”
“And if I don’t know what a monster is, but only know a few things about it, you can perhaps help me find more information?”
“I can certainly help you narrow it down. Is there anything in particular you’d like to read about?”
Not right now, Dovakiin thought, but there sure will be once these others leave.
Fledinem – Liosalfar, whatever that means. Helga is part hag. Bran and Solstice look human, but the implication is that they are both ‘Mask-kin’, most likely. As is Marion…
I know a thing about Marion. She’s got tough skin. That might be enough to start narrowing her down.
But he was saved from having to discuss it further right there and then, as Fledinem called over at that point. He had walked over to one of the bookcases.
“Can I take any of these?” he asked Walter.
Walter smiled, and laughed nervously. “Aha, no, no you can’t. You see, they belong in the library. You can read them in here, but they’re not to be removed…”
Fledinem selected a book from the shelf. “Wouldn’t it make sense for us to take some with us? We only have a few uses of that Sending Stone thing a day.”
Walter actually looked uncomfortable. “No, absolutely not. Er, haha, they belong in the library.”
And it was here where Orientation took a turn for the worse. Because it was here that Fledinem realised that this was making Walter uncomfortable. And perhaps it was because of the ‘monster’ remark from earlier, but Fledinem appeared to be awfully pleased at the idea of making Walter uncomfortable. He grinned. It was an unpleasant grin.
He reached for his bag.
“Come on,” he said, “it can’t hurt to take just one.”
“No, aha, I really have to insist.”
Dovakiin suddenly felt the temperature in the room was beginning to drop.
Dovakiin quickly called over to the blue giant. “Fled, knock it off. You can see he doesn’t like it.”
“It’s just one.”
“No, ahah, please don’t,” Walter said. “They all have a particular place…”
Papers were beginning to stir on the desk. A breeze rustled through the library.
The others watched on, fascinated and horrified.
Fledinem, in a very literal sense, failed to read the room. It turns out that he also was not good at reading social cues. He dropped the book inside his bag.
He realised a few moments later that he had misjudged the situation, when Walter screamed and drove his hand through Fledinem’s heart.
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