Orphan at the Edge of the World - Chapter 35

Chapter 35: 35




Sneaking out had been a great deal more difficult than Orison thought it would be. The increase in security personnel meant tighter and more alert roaming patrols. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Orison was beginning to understand Nadir's increased confidence in the consulate to handle itself against the infrequent raids that had decimated the place before.

Orison didn't believe that this nightly outing would be more than a couple times thing to begin with. Since he and Gan were almost caught by a pair of soldiers patrolling the wall and once again making it out of the few hundred yards of patrolled area around the perimeter, he decided to be bold about it instead after this time. The obsidian elf with the infected toe and the medicine smuggler had inspired Orison with a decent cover reason to be skulking around outlier native areas during unsanctioned hours. After all, the consulate may have an apprentice healer on hand now but Orison's skills still had him being called to the sick room from time to time.

"I wonder what Specialist Caius would fleece from me to read his medical books," Orison thought out loud.

Gan whispered, "Stupid Horse's steps at least sounds like an animal, Little Boss. Probably not the best time to be having conversations."

Chastened, Orison remained silent until they reached their destination, a rather large but withered and dead tree. As they waited, the occasional scent of sea could be smelled on the gentle but invigorating breeze drifting up from the southwest. Suddenly the air took a strange feel as the wind became cool enough to make goosebumps stand up on the pair's arms, raising the fine hairs on the napes of their necks.

Orison was naturally a bit more sensitive to the supernatural than the average person but what Gan lacked in sensitivity he made up for in general alert paranoia. As they backed away from the tree, fine tendrils of mist began wreathing around them with the dead oak as the center. Dashing with all their might, Orison and Gan barely made it to the thin and calm outer rim of the unnatural swirl of dense fog that concealed the tree from sight.

A set of red eyes slowly bobbing toward them said congenially, "No real harm in getting caught within. Well, there is if someone panics. It's easy to accidentally hurt a friend when you're randomly swinging and firing off arrows or magic in poor visibility."

Orison said irritably, "So, a test to see if we can hold ourselves together in an unknown and potentially hostile situation."

Nub chuckled. "Not particularly. If I had that little faith, I wouldn't have agreed to this at all. In truth, I just thought this would be a nice warm-up spot and let your Northerner friend shake some nerves off by getting in there and striking down a 'mourning one'."

Gan let out a subdued laugh and said, "It's quite a ways til morning. Are we supposed to wait here until the fog starts clearing before we hunt?"

Orison slapped his forehead as Nub let out a belly laugh like a man who hadn't done so in some time and was out of practice.

"Not quite. I'm going to give you a new weapon, he who 'walks first'. I figure you can get familiar with it and shake off your dread of weak little barely sentient bed sheets. Two birds with one stone," Nub said with suppressed mirth.

Gan took the delicate and slightly fancy looking silver blade from Nub and said, "I'm going it alone?"

Nub nodded and said, "I'd send Orison in with you but it would likely be more attracted to him than you. He might accidentally smack it out of annoyance and that would be it. Listen, this is a fledgling training ground and you're far from a stranger to combat. Hit it once or twice and it will lose enough strength to go back into hibernation for a few months. I'd actually appreciate if you didn't kill it though. It's for training after all."

Gan test swung the blade a few times then looked at the dense section of fog skeptically for a moment before he barreled in.

Orison sighed and said, "How long does he get before you consider it a fail and don't want him to tag along?"

Nub said, "It's a little more complex than that. Attracting the ghost can take some time and it gets quite shy after taking a hit. It's more a test of patience and nerves. Within a half hour or so, it should stalk him. If he takes it down with one swing then so be it but if it's still got some verve, it'll try to keep it's distance and harass him.

"If he doesn't lose his grit, it'll open a way for him to leave. If he gives in, he'll be in there til a couple of hours before dawn. The worst case, he comes out exhausted and unfit for ghost hunting for awhile. Best case, in five minutes or so we have a person who'll not fear them ever again unless an elder ghost damages his psyche or an ancestor ghost gives him a spiritual wound."

Orison contradicted, "Worst case scenario, he comes out two hours from dawn a mental child because it broke him... I'm giving it an hour then I'm lighting up that tree in the middle like a midwinter bonfire. I'd rather owe you for a new training ground than let my friend come out a psychological cripple."

A little surprised, Nub said, "You have that little faith in your companion?"

Orison shook his head and said, "I have a great deal of faith in him. I'm just not willing to take unnecessary risks with my people's well being."

Nub said, "Honestly, it's not that harrowing. A few repetitions of the same trick and even the most cowardly will become numb to it and stop caring. Their fear often turns into anger from there. I've yet seen a fledgling fail one of these more than once."

Orison looked at Nub and said, "Around two months ago, Gan saw two of his band mates torn apart by corpse puppets while guardian spirits used their fear and pain to strengthen themselves. Although this method is a bit extreme, if he can make light work of this ghost, he could step out of the shadow of his trauma in one quick stride. If not, I can't let him stay in there all night."

Nub nodded and said, "I can see the process. Still, losing a training ground is not a small thing. It's not that big of a thing either but you'll owe some compensation. It's not my personal property... Speaking of which..."

Nub handed Orison a few small sacks of coins worth around 500 gold, a quiver of twenty silver tipped arrows and two silver daggers. With a little hesitation, he handed Orison two yellowed scrolls still in good condition. Lastly, Nub handed him a small fisher's net that was decorated with little silver beads and a few heavier silver weights around it's edges.

"That last one's a loaner. If it gets shredded or lost, that's going to be another 200 gold. It's really not worth that much but I had to borrow it on short time and that was the condition." Nub said with a mild annoyance written on his face.

Orison nodded absentmindedly while looking at the scrolls. "What's on these? They only have this little sun thing on them and I have no idea what that means."

Nub smiled a little nervously and said, "What do you get if you take the basic fire projectile spell and mix it with the basic healing one?"

Orison's eyes lit up. "A spell that necromancers would wish didn't exist."

"Necromancers? It's a spell no undead capable of thinking would want to exist. That includes vampires. Please be very careful with them. We pried those from the dead hands of a weird cult acolyte a few years back. I figured they'd make good last resort options for you."

Under Nub's disbelieving eyes, Orison cracked the first one open and exercised all his power to burn the spell model into his mind before the glow faded, untriggered. Quickly, Orison cast a transcribe into his journal and started writing notes.

More than a little unsettled, Nub said, "Orison, what in the Abyss are you doing? Those things are antiques from my personal collection! It'll take ages for you to turn a bare model into anything worth while so why would you even bother? Right now, I just want to cry. Those things are practically priceless in the hands of a collector!"

While Nub grumbled and simmered, Orison dedicated his all to the task of overlaying the two separate models he actually already possessed versions of. Thankfully he'd made a low grade heal model for Thorrinson or it wouldn't have worked nearly fast enough before the model and his somewhat skewed transcribe made from the light afterimage of the model in his eyes became too obscure for him to mentally follow.

"Fascinating. You can actually make a model this way? Two apprentice level flat models from conflicting schools overlaid, turned into a three dimensional model that's still apprentice level. Trim the overlap, connect edges, some redesigns to maintain functionality of desired form and viola, an ultra vi- positive energy fire shot," Orison mumbled as he cribbed notes under the night vision power of his mask.

A still slightly out of breath Gan with bird's nest hair said, "We're, uh, ready to go when you are, Little Boss."

Orison looked up, slightly stunned. "How long has it been?"

"About an hour and a half," Nub said wryly.

Color draining from his face, Orison said, "I said an hour, Nub. I may have been a little out of it but I wasn't that worried because you were here."

Nub said blandly, "He came out of the fog after a half hour 'by accident'. The ghost didn't seem to have a taste for angry and Abyss bent Northlander. It was running away from him the whole time. Since you seemed busy, he wanted to practice hunting it."

To avoid heckling, Orison handed Stupid Horse's reigns over to Gan once the scout was situated behind him and slipped back into model theory. For the next quarter of an hour, as Nub led them to that night's real hunt spot, Orison partially cast and corrected his theoretical model. Nub grumbled the whole way over how wasteful and irresponsible Orison was being until two minutes before their destination, a wobbly and weak looking violet ember floated out and extinguished with little flair.

"Three casts... Just three more casts and I think I'll have it. Just give me a little breather and I'll be ready." Orison said.

Nub muttered, "We're not even there yet... Ganga Fyrstr, who is Orison's master?"

Gan shrugged his shoulders and said, "I think he's self taught."

Once they reached their destination, Nub turned and reflexively flinched at a violet glow. "We-We're here. You do realize the sensation of having one of those that close is like someone shoving a hot poker next to my face?"

"Oh, right. Sorry about that. Never mind about the breather. As long as we're not knee deep I should be good with half of my reserve, right?" Orison said.

Nub sighed, "I think of things from a fighter's perspective. We're well rested, you're magic's for big fish and surprises. Is there ever enough preparation for surprises? If someone manages to put a number or weight to that, I want to be the first to hear it... Enough bleating around. Behind me is a door to an old clan tomb. It's on the small side if memory serves so it should be a decent first run."

Nub turned and started digging into a mound behind some skeletal shrubbery.

Seeing that it was taking some time, Orison said, "Um, Nub, I have a golem."

Nub backed away and said, "I honestly didn't expect more than a light layer. Please, be my guest. It's reassuring that the next time we won't have to lug around shovels. Nothing shouts 'grave robber' quite like a shovel over the shoulder in the middle of the night."

While Orison's golem got to work, Gan said, "Is that what we're doing, robbing graves?"

Nub waved a dismissing hand. "It's not quite the same in our culture. A tomb without a family to guard it is fair game. To us, a clan tomb isn't just a place for the dead. It's a treasury and a temple. Would you ignore an abandoned treasury or disdain raiding a temple that no longer had worshipers?"

"I found the door... Or what's left of it anyway." Orison said.

Nub said, "I'll tread first. Let me check for weak walls and traps then I'll come back. If there's big bad things chasing me, I think you know what to do... If I get buried, I can probably get myself out but I'd appreciate some assistance. One time I had to dig for nearly a week to get out and I was in such a frenzy that I... I'd rather not have that happen again."

"We'll be waiting right here in nice open space," Orison beamed as Nub slipped into the dark maw of the tomb.

Gan said, "Won't he, you know, sample the best before we go in?"

Orison shrugged. "So what if he does? Treasure hunting is sidebar for us. Besides, it's his place and he's taking the biggest risks. If he gets lucky I'm sure he'll save us some broth after he eats his fill"

After a few minutes, Gan said, "Get ready, Little Boss. Two red eyes are heading this way quick."

Catching light of the entrance, Nub yelled, "Too big! Run!"

Strangely unsurprised, Orison smashed a bottle of strong alcohol on his golem and set it on fire then sent it to 'hug' Nub's pursuer. Seeing that Nub wasn't panicked, just concerned, Orison didn't trigger a collapse. He just had Gan stand in front of him and spammed unstable fireballs into the entrance as soon as Nub cleared it.

Nub spun around to see that instead of running with him, Orison had set his golem on fire and sent it to hug the elder ghost while shooting fireballs 'through' it, hitting the ghost and it's minions. Before the vampire could rejoin the action, Orison had finished the elder with a battleaxe to the spectral face while Gan finished off the two spectral minions like he was beating them for pie topping.

Seeing that there were no more coming, Orison sat down with a sigh of relief as he had burned though his pool with such speed it left him lightheaded. Gan walked full clear of the door before he collapsed on to the grass laughing for a couple seconds before he started snoring. Nub looked at the both of them in a mix of amusement and disbelief.

The vampire said, "That was foolish. Impressive, I admit, but foolish none the less... Without vital potion, Ganga Fyrstr won't be back to any kind of battle ready for a couple of days. A breath or two more enervation from those specters and his life would have been in real danger. As it is, he probably lost about a year's worth of longevity, give or take. If that elder had touched either one of you... I gave you silver arrows for a reason."

Orison walked over to Gan and smacked the scout's jaw a few times til he was roused enough to take a drink of stamina potion.

"He'll be up in about two or three minutes. I agree with your assessment but if we had tried to run, the elder would have probably thrown spells at us. In life, most of these guys were destruction or necromancy mages, right?" Orison said.

Ignoring the question, Nub asked, "How did your golem even manage to slow the elder down? That's what really bought you the extra breath you needed."

Orison said, "With Rithus' help, I've been running some basic level alchemy to make as much refined salt as I can. That stuff if almost worth it's weight in gold, literally. It was kind of a waste but it was our first run and I was half expecting some unpleasant surprise. It wasn't over my left shoulder or anything but I tossed some salt into the ground I made the golem from, you know, for good luck."

Nub stroked his goatee and asked, "Why did you set the golem on fire? I know every little bit helps but..."

Orison said, "Well, that was more improvisation but I did notice that the elder had a hard time locking onto our presence. It also made the elder hesitate before it moved through the golem. To be honest, I'm kind of disappointed the salt only slowed the ghost down instead of stopping it from moving through at all."

"Well, we can wait here for a few minutes, if that's all your friend needs but we can't spend too much loitering around. We may be past Longest Day but..." Nub said.

Gan got up and shook himself like a dog. "Ready to whip some more egg whites, Little Boss."

"Take the rear guard with your bow, Gan. If you got grappled by another ghost before you completely recover, it really will affect your longevity." Orison said.

Orison quickly explained to Gan that vitality sapping ghosts actually could be considered 'life drinkers' after a fashion but what really affected a person's life span was the deep tissue necrosis. Elders were so dangerous because they could draw large amounts quickly and could focus their draw point to the head to incapacitate their victims. Between stamina potion, a touch of healing and the scout's enchanted ring providing a constant small trickle, as long as the scout didn't consistently get sucked on, necrosis wouldn't occur.

"Break time's over. We need to get this done." an impatient Nub proclaimed.