Chương 23: Porridge And A Sword

They all ambled over to Alis, who was already turning to her side. The caverns were cool, but her brow was drenched in sweat. She clearly still needed more rest, her reedy arms shook as she tried to push herself to her feet. Al put a gentle hand on her shoulder to stop her while Siv had already placed a bowl of hot mash on her lap. Both of them had relieved smiles on their faces, content to see her well. They both talked over one another, filling her in on how Wirbald had come to their aid.

"And you let him just leave?" Alis said, looking around. Joel, on the other hand, felt awkward as hell. He'd walked up with the others because it seemed like the polite thing to do. It wasn't that he didn't care, he was simply uncertain what to do. Now he was just standing there as he shifted his weight, the soles of his feet rasping against the stone ground. He'd felt so comfortable, talking around a campfire. But when he'd seen how Siv and Al cared for Alis, loneliness crept up to overwhelm him.

He missed his family. His parents, his sister. Their smiles. His dog. He wondered how they were all doing. It was a thought he'd been avoiding in his time here. Shaking his head, he pushed the thoughts away. The throbbing pain in his forearm anchored him back from letting his mind wander. There were other things to worry about, such as toxic miasma ghosts and murder beetles. Or simply staying alive.

"Why're you standing around, looking all gormless?" Alis said, looking directly at him.

"Uh, um," Joel sputtered, his mouth suddenly dry. He felt dumber by the second.

"You okay?" Amazing. That's definitely going to make things less awkward. Idiot. To his surprise, Alis laughed. The laughter didn't mock as the joy reached her gleaming green eyes.

"You're the bravest porter I've ever met, Joel," she said with a sudden earnestness.

"I'm much better now, thank you." Joel felt his face flush at her dimpled smile. He hoped the caverns were still dark enough to hide it. His stomach sank when he noticed a shared look between Al and Siv at her words. He tried his best to change the subject.

"How long do you think Wirbald will be? It would be nice if we had a way to contact him."

"Now that you mention it, I'm glad he is away," Al said, his voice lowering.

"We need to discuss what we are going to do."

"What do you mean?" Alis said, beginning to pick away at her food.

"We wait for the guildmaster to get back and move out together, right?"

"Former guildmaster," Al corrected. His good-looking features turned surprisingly stern.

"One that is still serving his sentence in Perellan."

"Powerful guy, considering all of this." Joel twirled a finger to the surging pulse of light. Every two minutes, right on queue.

"I'm glad he's with us."

"Have to agree," Alis said, nodding as she ate.

"Any more food?" She asked a smiling Siv, who took her bowl for a refill. The young mage turned back to Al.

"Prisoner or not, he has to have had the skills of a Tier 2 or 1 Freewalker." Al winced like the idea hurt him.

"That's the very reason for us to be wary." He paused briefly. Taking a glance at the way Wirbald went, he sighed.

"Baron Valgruv told me of the crimes he committed. How Wirbald confessed to it all."

"Get on with it, Al." Alis gave an annoyed click of her tongue. The flashing lights of the barrier matched the glimmer of her eyes, a hint of her elven heritage.

"If it's enough to worry you, it's enough to tell us." Presence reassuring as ever, Siv returned with a bowl for Alis and a nod for Al.

"Supposedly, Wirbald went on some sort of rampage. Massacred every member present at the Rosnay guild's lobby. The baron mentioned reports saying it took days to mop out the blood." Al clocked their stunned silence, shaking his head.

"I didn't want to frighten all of you. More so when he was right here with us." Well, that certainly changed things. Al pulled the weapon bag closer while a contemplative silence came over Alis. Siv clasped one hand around his silver amulet while another was hidden in its sleeve. Another pulse of light passed them by, reminding them of how long they said nothing. Joel finally broke the quiet.

"So what's the plan?" The rest of them appeared as conflicted as him. Understandable, they wouldn't even be alive without Wirbald's aid. It was a strange feeling, being saved by someone with such bloody hands. Joel took a moment to look at his own. Boreth, Curzan, Bhas. His hands weren't so clean. He had no right to judge.

"We focus on the task at hand," Al said soberly.

"If what Wirbald is saying is true, we cannot afford to do anything other than try to stop the haze. If it reaches the surface, it'll feast on those in Wardenhal. By then, it won't matter how many Freewalkers come to help." Putting the toxic effects aside, the thought of a tidal wave of weapons — all wielded by the miasmatic ghosts — made Joel shudder. Al was right; it would be a catastrophe.

"So we play it cool with Wirbald," Joel said. He saw their confused expressions at his words.

"Play… cool?" Alis asked, clearly unsure. Ah, shit. Joel corrected himself quickly.

"Like we act as if we are unaware of what he did." He noticed another shared glance between Siv and Al. The second time they'd thrown each other such looks. Honestly, it was starting to unnerve him. Siv nodded.

"That's prudent. We can worry about Wirbald when we need to." Hopefully, it wouldn't come down to that. Another flash shot across the tunnel walls, a reminder of Wirbald's considerable power. Quiet came over the makeshift camp again; only the crackles of their fire echoed out. It was a decision made and agreed. The dull pressure of a full bladder drove Joel to his feet. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Heading somewhere?" Alis asked, her voice still coarse.

"I've got to go… do my business." He really didn't know any other polite way to put it. Alis' cheeks reddened as she nodded.

"Don't run off too far," Al warned.

"If Wirbald's barrier drops, we want you close for the bubbles." An air bubble slowly formed around Joel's head as Alis pointed her wand at him. The world became muffled once more.

"Better safe than sorry," Alis said with a sheepish smile. The tunnel broke off into several more passageways. Some of them were barricaded by Wirbald's radiating barriers, ones already searched by the mage. Thankfully, a few of those tunnels rounded a corner. He'd be able to piss in peace. Several bright flashes later, Joel had finally found a tunnel that was private enough. He'd chosen one that had its entrance blocked off.

The thought of the party coming across his pool of piss was embarrassing enough, so might as well select one of the dead ends that they wouldn't search. Relief came with a long exhale. After a small shake, he pulled his trousers back up. As he turned to head back, his foot caught on something. A metallic rattle followed, scraping against the stone ground. It was a pauldron. Caked in blood and dirt, its ochre exterior didn't reflect the brilliant light of the nearby barrier.

He doubted he would've noticed without stepping on it. Maybe something he could use, if it wasn't too banged up. The whole debacle down here had made him wish he had any armor. Picking it up, he wiped some of the dirt with the bottom of his sleeve. It revealed the symbol of a sun, its rays pronged out in four directions. Joel froze. He'd seen the sigil before. The crest had been emblazoned upon the chest plate of the corpse that Alis had nearly tripped over during their desperate dash.

Another pulse of light erupted, reinforcing the barrier a few feet away from him. The bright light revealed marks upon the stone ground. Orange scratches dragged all the way to the barrier of light, too thin to be from Bronzeback beetles. But not for someone in plate mail. Whether it was the bubble around his head or a creeping feeling of dread, his heart was pounding in his ear, faster by the second. He pushed his hand into the barrier, testing to see if it would allow him to move through.

His hand passed through, no longer affected by the repulsion of the blockade. It felt like moving through a waterfall of chill light. With a deep breath, Joel pushed past the barrier. Teeming miasma coalesced around him as he shunted through. Thank goodness that Alis had given him the bubble. The groves on the ground carried on into the dark purple smog. Only the blasts of light from the arcane barrier provided any real illumination. Gulping precious air, he slowly walked forward. He wished he brought a torch.

Each step was careful. He'd seen how suddenly bottomless pits appeared, almost eager to ambush and swallow him. A glimmer in the dark appeared, several feet within the tunnel, reflecting the light's burst. He resisted the urge to run forward, to confirm what he dreaded. Instead, he approached carefully, making sure of his footing as he went. The pauldron was held like a weapon, ready to bonk away anything that would charge him. His enhanced Focus still allowed him to still track the wispy movements of the miasma.

The reflected glint grew with every pulse of the barrier and every approaching step. It peeked past a large boulder, forcing him to get closer. Finally passing the boulder, his stomach turned. Biting hard on his lip, he swallowed down the rising puke. The bile burned his throat. He couldn't afford to vomit. It would allow the miasma to invade his bubble's air. At first, it had been difficult to recognize the bodies. Not because of the dark or the obfuscating smog but because they'd been mangled so horribly.

Collapsed into an unnatural ball of steel and flesh, it reminded Joel of smushed tinfoil. It couldn't have been the work of a Bronzeback beetle or another swarm of weapons. The mess was too round, too perfect. His sweat ran cold, dampening the back of his tunic. Another pulse from the barrier made him jump. There was one who could do this. He turned and sprinted back, through the bright barrier as it chilled his soaked brow. The craggy walls became a blur as he ran.

Wirbald's barrier pulse felt like the luminescence was chasing him, spurring him forward. He bounded around the cavern corner. By the time he reached the makeshift campsite, Alis was the first to notice him. Her eyebrows drew together as he arrived gasping. She walked up hesitantly.

"What's wrong?" Her gaze went past him before returning.

"Is something chasing you?" Joel shook his head, tearing off his own air bubble.

"Two. Dead. Bodies. Freewalkers." He heaved between words. With a flick of his wrist, the sun crested pauldron hit the rucksack.

"Looked. Like. Magic." The rest of them shared a concerned look. Al picked the shoulder plate to examine it. The former knight grimaced like he tasted something bitter. Siv headed over to check on Joel.

"Are you injured?"

"I'm fine," Joel replied, finally catching his breath. The thought of the crunched bodies flashed again with Wirbald's pulsating light.

"It doesn't make sense. Why would he save us then?"

"It doesn't matter why," Al said grimly as he stuffed the pauldron into the rucksack. He reached into his weapons bag.

"We have to be ready for him either way." He tossed something, a length wrapped in cloth, at Joel. A familiar glint caught his eye before Joel instinctively caught the bundle. An ivory hilt peeked out from the end. He couldn't hide the surprise on his face. Boreth's cutlass stared back at him. A smile was etched on Al's handsome features.

"Siv found it on you. My apologies for the subterfuge." He shrugged and his armor clanked.

"A Seahorn sword in the hand of someone other than a dwarf? It is said to be either stolen with shame or given with honor." Seahorn? Huh. It made Joel realize how little he knew about Boreth's sword but also how this world was no longer familiar — how it all surprised him over and over again.

"It was given to me," Joel mumbled, looking back at the cutlass. He hadn't forgotten Boreth's request.

"What did I say?" Siv's reassuring hand landed on Joel's shoulder, giving him a slight shake.

"There wasn't a chance this one would have stolen it." Alis scowled.

"Neither of you told me about it." The scowl turned into a glare.

"And you let me wander around town with him alone!?" Al rolled his eyes.

"Curious who was truly in more trouble."

"What was that?" Alis snapped, shutting him up instantly, though a playful smile remained on Al's face. She turned to Joel and gave a nod to the sword.

"You any good with that?" Joel unsheathed the short sword, testing the blade with two swings in an X-shape. The familiar weight and the sturdy grip told him the cutlass had been maintained well. Another warm-up slash through the air reflected the pulsating barrier light.

"Good enough then," Al smirked, his eyes following the slashes and then to Joel's footing.

"You're full of surprises."

"Just a few." Joel sheathed the cutlass and draped the cloth over the hilt.

"But, with the way those bodies were, I don't know if I'll make a real difference."

"Then let's avoid antagonizing Wirbald when he returns," Siv said, unpacking more food. He looked blankly between all of them before continuing.

"Well, a full belly encourages a pleasant mood."

"Yeah, that's great and all, but what if he attacks?" Alis argued as she crossed her arms across her chest.

"We should have a signal."

"If he attacks us, we won't need a signal." Al sounded grim.

"Nevertheless, wait on my cue. I'll mind him. No one attacks unless I do, got it?" Joel could live with that. With all his Tours of Stone, Al seemed like the perfect person to judge another's killing intent.

"And let's not forget that the only reason we can breathe easy is because of him." Siv reminded them as he pointed at the passing flash of magical light.

"I sense that we'll require his strength to discover and remove the source of the miasma."

"If something is controlling a toxic haze as large as this…," Alis said before pausing. Her mouth twisted as she thought.

"To this degree? Sustained to this size and growing? It's powerful magic indeed." The thought of the miasma reaching Wardenhal made Joel shudder. The silence that followed Alis' words was heavy; it told him they all thought the same. But he doubted that they heard Boreth's words as his hands tightened around the sheathed Seahorn.