Chapter 22: Laying The Seed

Chapter 21

Laying The Seed

While June was busy with her latest task, handed down from on high by the Lords, this freed Bullin’s time. The dwarf still had a lot of work to do to prepare for the coming excursion. And that’s where this trip came in. And with a soft blue flash, he’d arrived at his destination.

Varren had asked him to meet up with their contact in Hammer’s End, far to the south, to prepare for June’s arrival. Everyone knew she needed real-world experience sooner rather than later, and Varren couldn’t keep delaying the pressure from Lazar any further. His incessant yammering had become a near-constant source of complaint for Varren in the last couple of weeks.

He sincerely hoped the snafu from last time hadn’t occurred again. He’d taken quite the tongue-lashing from Varren over that mess.

“Add another Teleport Node to the list, I guess,” the dwarf thought as he checked his gear. Good, everything had made it this time. He grabbed thick leather gloves from his pack and pulled them taut over his hands, hiding his Gem.

His undead vision quickly adjusted to the low-light environment, allowing him to spot the mana trail out of the caves. He could sense several undead scattered around him, hiding in alcoves and waiting to strike. His Class Gem gave him enough protection that they wouldn’t attack him on sight, but he needed to be quick. With them being so far from the Tombs, he knew their magic was wild and unpredictable.

And that’s not the only thing that quickened his pace. This area had seen a lot more activity in recent weeks. Hunter’s Glade parties had been hunting for more dungeons in the area, as his contact had told him. The locals called this place Noblekeep Cave, the site of some ancient castle ruin, or so he’d heard. And Sharth’ax didn’t plan to keep the transit location here too long. Bullin had no idea where they’d move next, maybe to a fresh dungeon. Bullin nearly salivated at the thought of a new source of plunder.

But he couldn’t dally with fantasy, he needed to move. With haste, Bullin made his way through the cave network along a well-rehearsed path, emerging into daylight a few minutes later. As he left the mouth of the cramped hole in the hills, Bullin saw exactly who he had expected to see. His old friend Bennie, short for Benedikt, was sitting against the surrounding rocks, waiting for him.

Their meetups always went smoothly, thanks to the Sheet of Infinite Disguises that the human used to cover his cart during a rendezvous. This time, the cart had taken on the appearance of the redstone rocks around it, completely hiding it from view.

Bullin regarded the sun-soaked face of Benedikt with a warm smile. The man had been an old friend to the dwarf. Although he still thought the dwarf drew breath. Thankfully, this little glamour of his helped sell that useful lie.

All the years trying to keep friends and allies at an arm’s distance had become pretty annoying. Lies were tiring, and the blade of his mind had been dulled a bit. These last few weeks, Bullin had gotten better at sharpening his facade, thanks to June’s skulking around. She’d been such an enigma, way too hard to figure out. For that reason alone, getting away from the annoyance of training her was a decent reprieve.

This meant that the old dwarf would have to spend time out in the world, maintaining his disguise. But the best thing about old Bennie was that he never asked questions. His line of work had demanded such discretion, and Bullin appreciated it. So even when a random dwarf popped out of a hole in the ground, any sane person would have run, but not Bennie.

He looked just as Bullin had last seen him, greying beard and all. The old man’s tuft of grey hair had disappeared, the old bastard had shaved it off. The human blacksmith from further south looked like old boot leather stretched over a mess of broken bones. Bullin had sort of missed the old coot, though he would never admit it.

“Ya look like a Briarbear shit ya out a week ago,” Bullin called, smiling widely.

“And you look like what I scraped off my boot last month, old man,” Benedikt said, removing the cover from the front of the cart.

A soft smile passed between both men, comradery burned in their eyes. The old friends shared a deep, belly-filling laugh.

“You have fun out in the jungles?” The man asked of the dwarf as he bumbled onto the cart. The wooden frame shifted as his weight brought one side slightly lower to the ground.

“I like it, you know how I like the wetter climates,” Bullin chuckled as he shook the hand of the greying smith. “Someone should really tell the rest of my countrymen to come down from those dank mountains and enjoy the sun a bit.”

“Me, I never liked comin’ this far north, too damn muggy.”

The pair worked to prep for their journey south between further chit-chat. Bullin pulled the Lesser Summoning Stones from his pack, cracking them on the ground. Two massive sandy-colored draft horses appeared in a bright flash. The pair worked diligently to bridle the horses and link them to the cart.

Rolling back the sheet, Bullin inspected their cargo with a cursory glance. He didn’t care too much about what they were hauling, just that he got there in one piece. Still, his curious nature bit at his mind, prodding him. He rapped a meaty knuckle on one of the barrels, it was definitely full of something, a light sloshing sound told him it was a liquid.

“Same old, same old friend,” the old human called over his shoulder, working with one of the horses.

“Ah, shame, never did like that Goldmaw stuff, too sweet.”

“You just don’t know good stuff when you taste it, ya old coot.”

Bullin let out a scoff and continued preparing for the journey. Reaching into his pack, the dwarf extracted his Stone of the Void Walker and tapped it three times. The stone thrummed with invisible energy, flashing a soft blue one time. Bullin wouldn’t forget to send the all-clear message this time.

Within a few minutes, the cart was on the road, and their days on the road began. As the minutes dragged on into hours, the conversation turned toward more serious matters. The duo had run this route a few times, so they were much more relaxed than they would be on a new journey, but not totally so. But with their minds mostly at ease, Bullin asked more pressing questions.

“How many more of these runs, you figure?” asked Benedikt, as he pulled the cart out of its side path and onto the main road.

“Gotta save up just a bit more, meet with some old friends, you know how this business is,” Bullin lied with a flat tone.

Benedikt seemed to accept the answer, and the conversations moved on. Benedikt’s next question had been the one that Bullin was waiting on. Bennie began prodding about what Bullin had been doing the last few weeks.

“So you said last time that you might have found someone who wasn’t a completely hopeless fool with a hammer?” the old man asked, a slight smile playing at his lips.

“That I did, and you’ll get to meet soon. That’s part of the reason I came early. I wanted to ask if you’d tutor ‘em?”

A sour look crossed the man’s wrinkled features, and a frown hung on his mouth.

After he stared off into the distance for a moment, the old man relented, “Tell you what, you bring them to me and show me some good work, and I’ll do it. But if you bring me another hapless moron, you better not ask me for another favor.”

Bullin took the edged tone in stride, simply nodding his approval.

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The two smiths talked a bit about this and that, nothing too serious. Laughs were shared around the campfires each night as they shared caught game. Though Bullin always offered to take the first watch and had to sneak away to dispose of his uneaten food. At least his glamour helped him in that regard.

 

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The pair of old friends had spent the last few days riding south, through the Greenblade Plains. Tall grasses swept with the wind, blowing sweet smells across their path. Every so often, a merchant or farmer’s cart would pass them by, with little more than a curt nod.

The dominating feature in this area were the vast fields of grain, tubers and other vegetables. Farmers in this area made enough of a living for several lifetimes growing crops to be shipped south.

Amid the clearings north of the Goldenglade, trees had been cut down by the hundreds to make room for the spread of man. This region was one of the most fertile areas in the Republic and was a closely guarded jewel; a flawless gem amid a hoard of emeralds. Swathes of farmland and small homesteads dotted the landscape along the road, battling against the weather and the wilderness alike.

The one thing that the farmers here could count on, aside from the constant goblin raids, were the patrols by the Hunter’s Glade, not to mention those damned Gilded Call mercs.

And in recent months, a bunch of griffon riders as well. Bennie remarked, seeing a griffon fly overhead multiple times, carrying some adventurer. Bullin noted it with disdain in his voice, knowing that the Shard Carriers would only get more common the closer they got to Sunshear.

After five days, their journey to the halfway point was nearly complete, and relief was visible on both their faces. As the cart rounded the bend towards the hamlet of Fairfield, ramshackle wooden walls came into view. The wooden walls were old, the first major construction of the old village. They’d long since fallen to pieces in various spots, with multiple kinds of logs used to patch holes and reinforce falling sections.

Being one of the major rest spots between Sunshear and cities to the north, it was entirely focused on keeping the local monsters in check. And since fighting never-ending wars tended to swallow gold, basic infrastructure was neglected.

The cart pulled through the town, passing dirty hovels and small storefronts. The dirt roads had turned into a sea of mud after a recent rain, coating everything and everyone. Bullin and Bennie both braced for a bumpy ride as the wheels bounced around through the well-worn tracks. Pulling up alongside the same inn they’d made a pattern of patronizing, the pair hopped off the cart and secured their horses. The faded painted sign of the Emerald’s Rest hung above the door.

Wasting no time, Bullin made a beeline for the bar, slapped down a gold coin, and waited for the Elven bartender to turn. “A pint of Rosehead, if ya please,” he said, speaking over the din of the other patrons. A moment later, a frothing mug slid across the counter, and the bartender turned away to continue working.

Bullin pretended to sip the drink while watching the surrounding room and waited. As Bullin watched, a human woman waltzed across the tavern and saddled against the bar near him.

“Ho, old man,” came a whispered greeting from the blonde. Her locks were done up in a tight bun, showing off more of her heavily tanned face. “What brings you back so soon?” she asked, looking pointedly at Bullin.

“Bringing in some new recruits, we’ll talk later,” came the rushed response, as Bullin spotted Bennie trudging through the door and heading his way.

The blonde took the hint and turned her attention to flagging down the bartender, pretending to ignore Bullin entirely.

Benedikt saddled in between the two, ordering his own drink. Bullin met him with a warm smile and a clink of their drinks. Their ensuing conversation didn’t last, as it was already late in the day and they’d been on the road far too long. The two bought their own rooms, with Bullin requesting a more private room by sliding a small bribe towards the bartender.

 

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Setting his hulking frame down on the simple bed, Bullin let out a heavy sigh. The wooden frame also heaved with the added weight, but held firm. He removed his boots and gloves, stretching to get the tension out of his muscles. Sitting back on his bed, he rummaged through his pack, looking for the Stone of the Void Walker. Grasped in his hand, the stone was warm to the touch, as opposed to its usual lifeless, cold state. There was a message incoming. Bullin pushed mana into the stone, focusing his attention on receiving the message.

Amid the candlelight and shadow, Bullin heard words within his mind. “Report, Immediate, Attack,” came the ethereal voice that communicated via the stone. It was quite the incongruent tone for such an important message. It had only been six days, but it’s entirely possible a group of Shard Carriers had shown up at the Tombs again. Bullin wagered that this would only become a more common occurrence as they became more numerous and bold in the coming days.

Immediately, Bullin pulsed his own response, “Fairfield, Benedikt, Arrival,” and closed the connection. He knew that there was little he could do from out here, he just had to hope that the defenses would be enough to withstand whatever assault had occurred.

A soft trio of knocks on his door told him that there was yet another distraction to deal with, and he suspected he knew exactly who was knocking. A quick glance outside into the hallway revealed the same blonde woman, eagerly waiting to be let inside.

Silently, Bullin stepped aside to allow her to enter. The two stared at each other for a long moment, then the woman spoke. “I won’t take too much of your time, I just need to give you this.” she reached into a pouch on her belt, removing a smaller bag from within. Dropping the pouch into Bullin’s hand, she then took a seat on the edge of the bed. A soft smile crossed her weathered face as bright blue eyes looked across the room, following the dwarf.

Bullin walked over and dropped the package inside his pack, then stood in front of the woman. Shafts of moonlight broke through the small window, casting the room with a bit more shade, adding even more dark edges to the room. Red, orange, and blue shades of light mixed to create a dark rainbow.

“Nice to see you, Kara,” Bullin heaved as he spoke, letting his stone-like facade drop.

“It’s good to see you too, Bull,” she said with a smirk playing at her lips. “You here for work, or pleasure?” she asked, a pointed stare taking over her features.

“Sadly, it’s all work. No tussles in the dark for us this time.” Bullin said, sighing.

“Shame, could have used the practice, and the reward,” she said, the words slithering from her mouth.

"Yeah, like I said, all business this time. Tell ya what, if I find something interesting, I'll bring you along on the next run."

Kara's expression turned tense for a moment, as she stared at the wall behind the dwarf. "You better, you owe me. This town might as well be one giant picnic."

Bullin let out a small chuckle, knowing just how boring her work must be.

And with nothing more to say, Kara rose from the bed and dusted herself off. Pulling her dark cloak around her body, she moved toward the door. The pair exchanged a silent hug and departed each other’s company. Relaxed, Bullin plopped onto the bed, closing his eyes and cultivating in peace.