NPCs (22 page)

Whatever it was being used for now, this place had clearly been constructed as barracks; the cold, grey floors, lack of decoration, and abundance of bunk rooms made that obvious. The guard showed them around. There was a communal dining area, where food would be served to them, a small stove for cooking if they felt so inclined, and three bathrooms, two of which had been designated for women. The training ground out back was expansive, an area of hard-packed dirt littered with wooden weaponry. When the tour was complete, which took so little time their horses were still standing outside, the guard showed them to a bunk room and told them to settle in.

It didn’t take much encouragement for the adventurers to comply. Sparse and worn as the bunks were, they were still an incredible luxury after so many days of sleeping on hard ground beneath the stars. Add in that they wouldn’t have to split into guard shifts, and slumber became such an exciting prospect that they almost bedded down right then and there. Almost, but not quite. Cushy as this was, it merely represented the last bit of peace before things grew dangerous once again.

Soon, too soon, they’d have to find out why the king wanted this many adventurers. With little discussion, each took up their weapons and headed out to the training ground. An afternoon of effort was highly unlikely to make any sort of real difference in the coming task. They would only improve by a fraction.

Still, if it was a fraction or nothing, each of them would take the fraction.

* * *

Later that day, a small caravan entered through the gates. It was manned by a slender grain farmer and his wife who had come to the castle to sell their harvest of rare Abstanial Silver grain to the royal brewers. The farmer was a regular at the castle, and if he looked a bit more nervous than normal when speaking to the guard, they thought little of it. After all, he was a small man in a big world. Fear likely overwhelmed him at every turn.

It was only after he had come through and had gotten directions from the greeting guard that the reason for his worry presented itself. Or, rather, themselves. From out of the back of his wagon emerged four adventurers, knocking his precious cargo from their armor as they set foot upon the ground. The last of them to emerge, a robe-wearing elf with a vicious gleam in his eyes, held a spellbook in his thin hands and kept his eyes locked on the farmer, waiting for the slightest hint of provocation.

“I told you we’d get in,” Mitchzelin announced, spitting to get the taste of grain from his mouth.

“And all we had to do was threaten an innocent man,” Timuscor said, his voice as heavy as his armor. He did his best to scoop the grain from his chestplate into the cart, but it was a losing battle.

“He’s just an NPC, it doesn’t matter.” Glennvint’s long, nimble fingers twitched against his spellbook, the desire to blast bucking against his limited restraint.

“Don’t even think about it.” Timuscor took a step over, putting himself between the farmer and Glennvint.

“Think about what?” Glennvint’s attempt to feign innocence was so bad, it might as well have been a critical failure.

“Think about torching these two. They did everything we asked and got us in. You’re not allowed to hurt them.” Timuscor rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and locked eyes with the wizard.

“Timuscor, cut that paladin shit out. You’re a knight. Glennvint, reign it in. We can’t have fiery explosions or corpses raising suspicion.” Mitchzelin finished cleaning off his armor and pointed to the couple on the cart. “They can run off, as long as they know we’ll be coming after them if they say a word to anyone. And I highly doubt they want to see us again.”

The farmer and his wife agreed whole-heartedly with that statement. As proof, the farmer whipped the reins on his horses and hurried away, desperate for distance lest they change their minds.

“We could’ve nuked them,” Glennvint whined as he watched his targets escape.

“Forget them. We have bigger fish to fry,” Mitchzelin instructed. His gaze fell on the stone building across the castle’s courtyard, where several forms could be seen training and dueling against one another.

“Or, should I say, bigger adventurers.”

19.

When the sun rose over the barracks, it found an empty practice field. The wooden weapons were stacked neatly against a stone wall, untouched since the day before. Inside, the various adventurers rose slowly, taking time to stretch, read spellbooks, or say prayers to their gods. Breakfast was served up in the dining hall, met with appreciative, yet silent, eaters. When the food was gone, the process of donning armor began. There was little discussion in any of the rooms, and no mention of doing some training before the sun grew too high. Today was not a rest day. Each party, even the newest among them, understood that. Today, they received their orders, and they needed to meet that challenge with preparation and readiness.

As the adventurers finished equipping and wandered out into the main area, they found the guard who’d shown them around waiting quietly. Taking the cue, they gathered near him and waited as other parties joined them. Soon, the entirety of the barracks had arrived and only then did the guard speak.

“Today, you will be addressed by our king,” the guard said. He began walking as he spoke and motioned for the others to follow. They complied wordlessly.

“His majesty has seen fit to grace you with a royal task. You are all fortunate beyond words, and I can scarcely contain the envy that burns in my chest.” Nice words aside, he didn’t seem particularly jealous as he opened the barracks’ door and led the way onto the castle’s outer grounds.

“However, with such blessings also come responsibilities. As recipients of a royal task, it is your duty to see it fulfilled, even at the cost of your own life or the lives of your friends. The king has personally selected you out of the whole kingdom; it would be a far kinder fate to die while attempting success than to return a failure.” The grounds were warm in the mid-morning sun, the last traces of dew already evaporating away in the burgeoning heat. They walked down a road that had been full to bursting the prior day yet now was utterly deserted. The only people they spotted lingering about, aside from themselves, were occasional guards dotting the landscape. Not that the groups were looking around too hard; nearly all of them were focused on the upcoming task they’d be handed.

Perhaps this is why, after walking through a narrow corridor between two buildings, no one noticed that the group of adventurers suddenly increased by four.

“You will all wait here,” the guard informed them, gesturing to a circle of stone in a small moat of grass. Above the circle, perhaps twenty feet in the air, was a small balcony jutting out from the castle proper. Such a structure was far from regal enough or removed enough, to house a king giving orders to his subjects; however, for addressing a relatively small group, it was perfectly suited.

“The king will arrive soon. You will listen attentively as he gives you your orders. When he has finished deigning to speak with you, I will return to show you to the next phase of your journey. If you have any questions, you may ask them of me at that time. Under no circumstances are you to interrupt or ask anything of our king.” The guard turned to leave, then swiveled halfway back to look at the adventurers. “Once more, I commend you on your good fortune to have been chosen by our king for this task.” That said, he finished his turn and headed back the way he came, leaving the parties awaiting the start of their next adventure.

* * *

King Liadon sat on the edge of his sprawling bed and fussed with his crown, trying to find an angle where the hard, golden edges didn’t dig into his scalp. The first king of Solium had been human, and thus the royal accoutrements had all been crafted with a human in mind. For a human, with their thick skulls and coarse hair, the crown was just fine. Those brutes were so unaware, Liadon doubted the first king had even known when he had the damn crown on at all. Elves were gentler, more sublime creatures. They had keen senses and noticed things like hard metal digging into their fair skin through the barrier of thin hair.

Ardel watched his king fuss, knowing it was not a matter of him finding a comfortable way to wear the symbol of his leadership but merely of waiting until he wore himself out from trying. Royals were like toddlers: it was often a more prudent use of time and energy to simply let them tire themselves out than to try and intervene. They had the time, thankfully. The one good aspect of being an attendant for the king was that he was never late. Whenever the king arrived, that was when he was meant to be there. It was a benefit Liadon used frequently, since he felt little obligation to keep track of things so peasanty as “time.”

“Are they gathered?” Liadon asked, finally letting his hands fall away from the crown in frustrated acceptance.

“Yes, sire. The guard brought them out to the southeastern grounds, by the far wing’s balcony. They eagerly await your royal presence.”

Liadon snorted in a distinctly un-kinglike, or elflike for that matter, way. “I’m sure they do. Just chomping at the bit to face the man handing them their execution papers. Somehow, I doubt even adventurers are that foolhardy.”

“Then you overestimate them. The more dire the circumstances, the faster they rush in. Presuming the reward is right, of course.”

“I’ll never understand that lot. They treat life as if it’s disposable, like they can go get more from a vendor once a dragon’s fang has run them through.”

“Some are more prudent than others,” Ardel said. “And it certainly helps us that we’ve kept all word of the failed expeditions quiet. I fear we might see a higher desertion rate if word of the cumulative body count were to slip into public knowledge.”

“Then, we’d just have to add those deserters to that body count,” Liadon said. “It matters little. Sooner or later, one of these groups will get it done. We just have to keep throwing them at the problem until it’s resolved. Standard kingdom procedure.”

“Yes, sire. On that topic, have you given any more thought to the rash of demon attacks currently plaguing the lands? We’re up to six confirmed so far, with several more suspected.”

“One thing at a time. The citizens are a hardy lot; they can fend for themselves. Expeditions are our first priority.”

“Very well, sire. Does that mean you are ready to address them?”

King Liadon rose from his bed, examining himself in the mirror. He was fully dressed, long purple cape flowing from his shoulders, down past his regal clothes and stopping inches above his fine leather boots. The crown sat atop his head, gleaming in splendor despite the discomfort it caused. He looked every inch the part of a king, which was eighty percent of what it took to be a king.

“I’m ready, but let’s take our time getting there. It does adventurers good to sit and stew on occasion. Keeps them reminded of who they really work for.”

“Yes, sire.”

* * *

The sun climbed through the sky, nearly reaching its zenith by the time there was finally movement on the balcony. Adventurers quickly scrambled into position, pulling themselves up and taking a respectful stance. The king’s blood-soaked reputation had reached all of their ears, and none were keen on receiving an arrow through the eye for perceived transgressions.

King Liadon emerged from the shadows of the castle and stood prominently on the balcony. He stared down at them wordlessly, face stoic and eyes hard as he assessed this fresh crop. Whether he found them impressive, or wanting, was anyone’s guess, because as he began to speak, it was in a flat, neutral tone that betrayed no more about his thoughts than his stone-faced expression.

“I welcome all of you, brave warriors who have earned my attention through your heroic deeds. Truly, your reputations precede you, and I consider it a fine day to have such folk as my guests at the castle. Today, however, is not a day of celebration or boasting. Today I have summoned you here to serve your kingdom, a privilege so few citizens are ever given the opportunity to do. You are greatly blessed, for you have the rare chance to attempt to repay me for the protections and benefits reaped from living under my rule.”

King Liadon paused, half-watching his marks soak it in, half-waiting to see if anyone would be dumb enough to speak up. When no one did, he continued, and the archers waiting unseen in various shadows allowed their bows to slacken just a touch.

“Some time ago, a group of citizens located a dungeon that had been hidden away by time. This was brought to my attention, and I undertook its investigation. After endless magical reconnaissance, we have deemed it to be ready for actual exploration. Now, there are various monsters and traps entombed there, which is why I have decided to send only the mightiest of adventurers to handle the task.”

Again, King Liadon paused, and again, the crowd remained silent. He was impressed; most of the other groups had lost two or three loud-mouths by this point.

“Your task, upon entering the dungeon, is to retrieve a highly potent magical artifact from a room at the direct center. Our wizards have been able to glean its existence and location, but nothing more. Anything else you find is yours to keep; however, the artifact should be your primary goal. The group that brings it to me will be gifted with land, titles, and gold far exceeding anything you might find in some paltry dungeon.”

King Liadon saw the greed shimmering in some of their eyes, twinkling like gold coins amidst a dragon’s hoard. That should keep them properly motivated. A few did not seem enticed by the promise of riches; however, Liadon didn’t spare much worry for any of the adventurers’ motivation. Whatever had drawn them into the adventuring lifestyle would compel them forward on their path, with or without his promise of gold at the end. Of course, the threat of death should they stray was also an effective way to keep things moving along. King Liadon was a fan of using both the carrot and the stick, when possible.

“Remember, be wary in your exploration. We’ve confirmed the presence of many monsters that could present a danger even to those as powerful as yourselves. It is your goal to see the artifact returned and your king pleased, not to die for no purpose in musty dungeon corridors. So go forth, and make your king proud!”