Victor

  Last time on Dragon- ha sorry, couldn't resist. For the first time since I came here I actually got a chance to flex my Jeet Kune Do. Well my grandfather'd taught me not to hit a lady, but he was a little bit fuzzy on the details when it came to martial arts tournaments. But seriously, folks, Charlean was pretty strong but her attacks were very heavily telegraphed - Karth assured me that her sword-fighting abilities far exceeded her brawling. She was clearly no trained martial artist, just a blunt instrument who left so many openings that I couldn't help but exploit them all That said, she took quite a few hits to bring down and she may have taken me out if I hadn't been so quick to dodge.

  Now I knew how a certain handsome space cowboy felt. Heck it was because of said cowboy that I learned Jeet Kune Do in the first place. She was the type of brawler that relied on brute strength and wasted a lot of energy with needless motion. But now she was our guide for five hundred crowns paid to the Dach, plus a share found treasure, and she gets first pick on any magic armor we might find. The princess had managed to talk the Dach down from eight hundred, by the way; she really could haggle, ah, and that determined look she gets when she makes deals, not unlike the look she gets when fighting monsters. Karth was sweating bullets!

  The very next morning after having hired Charlean, we set off into the gloomy depths of the wood. We made our way vaguely northwest, following the dark elf's lead. By the way, Charlean had the same skintone as the others, but her hair was a bluish-black and her irises were bright red. Her full kit consisted of a large metal heater shield, an elaborate magically enhanced arming sword, a suit of breastplate armor with chainmail underneath, plus the sabatons, gauntlets, faulds, and a helmet in the shape of a falcon's head which immediately brought to mind that one giant robot pilot. Most of her gear was plain old steel but that helmet was actually made of mithril.

  Yeah with that beak-visor and that long flowing hair, then the armor and weapons, she cut an impressive and imposing figure. When that visor was down, the eye holes were completely opaque from the outside. Then there was the way she confidently strode, stopped, looked around, and chose our direction without hesitation. There were animal tracks, and tracks from other things, but apart from some red eyes in the gloom that scattered when we got close I didn't see any wildlife. I think we must have been walking a full ten hours before we found the waterfall that Mal had heard; of course we took a break there and made camp by the lake.

  The forest was especially noisy at night. I wondered what kind of critters were making all that noise. For our safety, the princess actually employed some of her nature magic: she coaxed some trees into forming a barrier for us to hide behind. This was a new spell for her, one that she had learned during our month-long stay in Caer Caradon; yes one of those aforementioned new tricks and you thought I was fixin' to leave y'all hanging. Treeherder it was called, and it was friggin awesome. The trees just straight up started to bend and shift until we had a nice little circular fenced-in area. Naturally this had a long casting time and required the princess to concentrate to get the trees to behave the way she wanted them to. So if she also had spirit magic, she could have made actual tree people, couldn't she? So there we were, sitting by the campfire, four adventurers - so naturally we had to discuss our objectives and our strategy. It was silent at first, and I was out of S'mores ingredients, but…

  "Mal," I said, "how about you tell the rest of us what you told me."

  He nodded, and said, "about the Black Order. From what I understand, they're an old cult; ancient in fact. I don't know exactly how long they've been around, but what they attempted in Cara and Anaura has been their modus operandi for as long as they've existed. The man who recruited me, Fayd, and the late Wylt, whom Victor dealt with personally, were both members of an elite group known as the Circle of 13. They carry out the Mastermind's will, and make regular reports to him. They seem to have some sort of deity they worship. The details were scant at best, but as I've been ruminating, I've reached something of a conclusion..."

  Hs face grew grim, not the usual world weary expression he wore, but dark and serious, "...I think that they worship a demon. Perhaps even one of the seven devils."

  Demons. Damn. That'd go a long way to explaining their obsession with despair and chaos. Wait, seven devils? Everyone else seemed to get it, the gravity of the situation was etched into their faces. I, on the other hand, was lost.

  "Seven devils?"

  "Ah, naturally," said Mal, turning from grim to thoughtful, scholarly even, "you may have heard myself or others call out the short-devil or the long-devil as part of an emphatic interjectional idiom," I nodded, "but since you weren't born in this world you probably didn't know what the short-devil we were talking about," he shrugged, palms upward, eyes shut, "and how could you? Speaking too much of devils is considered bad luck, and gods help you if you use their real names - what you hear when we say what the short-devil, is actually a euphemism. So. There are demons, then there are higher-order demons such as demon lords, barons, princes, depending on their power levels. But above them, are the Seven Devils."

  He paused, looking at the moons, and recited slowly. "The short-devil. The long-devil. The she-devil. The fat-devil. The fire-devil. The ice-devil. The steel-devil. Each one is powerful beyond mortal imagination, even the most powerful elf-lords and all but the most ancient dragons fear them. Thankfully, they live in the hells and can't really act directly, ah I see your consternation and indeed! There are at least seven hells that we are aware of, and scholars debate whether the third hell isn't actually two hells and so forth-" he waved his arms dismissively, "planes-hopping isn't a popular profession except among the gold to mithril ranked adventurers, so collecting empirical evidence regarding those awful places is somewhat difficult. Well that's about all we need for our purposes, don't you agree?"

  The princess nodded, snappingly, "I agree! 'Tis far too dark to speak of such fell things."

  I also agreed, this was heavy, all right I'll suggest a new topic, "princess," she perked, "how about we try that thing you and Meli were working on? With the bean."

  "Ah! Of course!"

  She fished out a coffee bean that she had stored in a pouch on her corset, a spell component pouch, actually, not that many of her current spells needed them. Meli had taught her a basic pattern magic spell, novice grade, one that she invented. Before anything else she used a utility-grade earth magic spell to produce four cups made of stone (the aptly named Cup of Stone); before anyone asks, to make anything of high quality she would need a lot more mana put into it and spend more time so I don't wanna hear any pearl-clutching about breaking the economy.

  First, the princess held the coffee bean in her left hand between her thumb and index finger, then she began to create water in her right. Even Charlean was watching with rapt interest. Steam began to rise from the wobbling orb, and the coffee bean glowed with a golden light and floated freely a few inches above the globule.

  The princess moved the water to go between both her palms as motes of light began to stream into it from the bean. Her brow furrowed, she was concentrating hard and pumping more mana into the water which - yes, yes, yes! Insert meme of overly excited tyrant, final boss from that famous fighting game, here - the water was turning a dark brown. After about six seconds or so the water split into four streams, each of which filled one of the stone cups.

  I knew that aroma, and even the grumpy Charlean seemed to like it, "what is that?"

  Mal picked up one of the cups, inhaled the contents, and said, "Ahh, it is more umbral than an overcast night when Azune and Topazune are both hiding wholly in shadow," he sipped it tentatively, "Hotter than the hells and just as bitter. I actually like it."

  "That is coffee," I said, passing a cup to Charlean.

  The dark elf breathed in through her nose "This fragrance is strange. Tastes even stranger, but better than tea. Yes, it tastes like strength. A warrior's drink!"

  The princess and I tried ours at the same time, and we hanged our heads, sighing. We said, in unison, "It's just not the same."

  Oh well, surely she could refine it over time but, at least we had a proof of concept. We did sleep peacefully at the least.

  The next day we continued our search, and we got an opportunity to see just how tough Charlean was. There we were searching for hints of a ruin, when all of a sudden the elves in the group's ears twitched and they turned to the left. The princess shouted a warning, and I got in front of her as she began to incant. I drew my arming sword, I readied my shield; I had gotten decent with it and I figured the longer blade would be helpful. Mal readied multiple throwing knives. Charlean drew her sword and stood next to me.

  Next thing we knew a tremendous beast burst through the trees, no, not a beast, an actual monster. It stood on two legs, covered in thick fur, and the head of a moose - but instead of the flat teeth of an herbivore, this moose's muzzle was full of the teeth of a predator. Its eyes burned like hot coals. It ran upon hoofed feet and carried a large cudgel in one of its black-clawed hands. Mal immediately threw his knives, they found purchase in the creature's thick hide. Then the princess released a spell that she'd been working on: stone rifle, a combination of tailwind and stone arrow, which increased the velocity and rotation of the projectile - the stone bullet plunged into the creature's side. The great and mighty monstrosity bled black and red ichor but kept charging.

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  I braced myself for impact but Charlean caught the creature's swing dead on with her shield - it seemed to buckle a little but it held, and damn, Charlean must not skip leg day because she barely budged. I seized the opportunity afforded by that block to roll under the creature and stab it near the vitals as it hunched over. Crap, my sword got stuck in it. Mal unleashed a sound burst which distracted the monster before it could take me out with its claws. I rolled and got behind it.

  Charlean struck it across the shins with her blade, drawing blood, and the princess launched another stone rifle into the creature's face. That's when I got out my Bowie Knife and stabbed it in the back. That was enough. From our combined efforts the abominable moose man, words I never thought I would utter, fell to the ground dead as disco.

  "Vorpal moose," Charlean said, "This far away from the Deep Grimdark?"

  "That is very strange indeed," said Mal.

  The princess also looked troubled, "It is well that we heard it before it attacked. Otherwise…"

  "Come to think of it, didn't we have somethin' strange happen to us before, monsterwise?"

  The princess said, "You mean the three goblin broodmothers, and that forest goblin brute together with the hill variety?

  I nodded, Charlean said, perhaps blanching but that helmet made it difficult to tell, "You lie, flatborn!," I glared, "I mean, that claim beggars belief, mage!"

  Mal said, "Ahh, wait, that was you two? Yes, the court was a little abuzz when the guildmaster reported that the remains of three pox-ridden goblin dispensers had been discovered. Of course, I did ask Fayd if the goblin's gutterborn seed repositories were part of the Mastermind's plan, and that was a big fat nope - he actually said never work with goblins, they make terrible minions! They'd just as soon eat you, or each other, as follow your instructions. As a matter of fact that was the last thing he wrote to me before he went silent."

  So the goblins weren't related to the Black Order's schemes, at least. Yeah it didn't seem like their style. I mean a wayward monster like that gritty live action Bullwinkle reboot over there a month and some change after the goblin thing could just be a coincidence, but for now we needed more data; just like that kickass lieutenant with short blond hair did. More. Data.

  I nodded, "Well it ain't a pattern yet but we should keep an eye out for more weird monster stuff."

  Everyone agreed. We made camp again that night, of course Charlean took the creature's horns as a trophy - I know I would have done the same. From what she told us around the campfire, creatures from deeper in the Grimdark Forest were especially dangerous - indeed, the Deep Grimdark was part of the Hylaria wilderland. The forest itself was partially evil, actually, and the portion where the darkborn dwelt was the nicest part. There actually used to be human towns and beastfolk villages amid the trees, but the forest grew so thick and wicked that they were swallowed up by the foliage. Those who didn't abandon their homes succumbed to monster attacks. Only the darkborn managed to persevere through sheer grit, and well, their warriors did have centuries of experience above the human guys. To see a creature native to the darkest, murkiest parts of the Grimdark out here was like seeing a polar bear inlike, I dunno, downtown Seattle, or something.

  Huh? Mal seemed to be lost in thought, the princess picked up on it.

  "Malcolm? What's on your mind?" She asked.

  This seemed to break his trance, "I was trying to recall the words of a certain someone, a long gone individual." He groaned, and grabbed his skull, "it's no use. Muddled memories, perhaps they are best left in the shadows and the fog."

  The princess muttered something faintly, I could barely make out. "...Was it as I feared?" then she spoke a little louder, "Um, Malcolm may I ask a somewhat personal question?"

  He bowed, "I assure you princess that, as you suspected from my acrobatics, my derriere is very muscular, thanks for asking."

  "No, not that kind of personal!" The princess cried, and then smiled, clearly realizing, as I had, that Mal was trying to ease her trepidation. "Your grandmother - could she have passed on as a result of a magical disease?"

  There was a long silence, Mal said, as if remembering something else, "Of course it was your fault," he sighed, and turned to me, "His words, not mine, Fayd I mean. More of that lighting of gas lamps, you spoke of, I think. I wonder if he knew more than he was letting on, perhaps we can grill him before you smoke him."

  Grim, but I always appreciate allusions to Texas cooking.

  He continued. "To answer your question princess, yes, after my parents died I received a letter at my house some time later, offering the surviving faculty's condolences regarding the death of dear gran-gran following some magical disease that ravaged the University. I was trying to recall her last words to me, but…so much haze."

  The princess said, "So it is true," her ears drooped, "when I cast comprehension on you, you flinched!"

  What was she on about?

  "I- I must have caused some bad memories to surface regarding that awful…the plague was spread by touch spell and I thoughtlessly-"

  "Oh, pay that no mind, I didn't know it was spread that way, actually," Mal said, "the letter didn't mention the mechanism of the Spellscourge's spread..."

  Spellscourge, huh?

  "...Only that five archmages, and many others including high ranking members of the school's faculty, as well as numerous visiting alumni, had died. The one who ensured that there'd be any survivors at all was-"

  "My mother," said the princess, sorrowfully, "My sister Sylfaena was caught up in it, too. Afterwards, mother took care of her for a time while she herself rested. Mother had used so much of her power that I find it unlikely that she isn't still seeking respite somewhere."

  "Could she have-" I started, now deeply concerned.

  The princess shook her head, calmly, and smiled, "Nay, she yet draws breath. Had she ceased drawing upon Elianora's power, there would be a great disturbance in the flows of magic - a new high priestess would need to be selected from amongst the upper echelons. Before you ask, I'm not even close to being in the running for that." She saw right through me! "The exact same thing happened when her predecessor was murdered, but that is a story for another time."

  I nodded in agreement.

  "Sylfaena, where've I heard that name," Mal said.

  The princess said, "She was appointed as court wizard of Kurvania and I understand that it was a pretty big deal that an actual elven princess received the role." She giggled, "Plus I'm fairly certain I've mentioned her before."

  "Ah, yes that must be it," said he though he didn't seem convinced, for some reason, "I'm certain I've never met her but, the name simply strikes me as one I've heard in passing. Ah forgive me. I've had a lot on my mind ever since that part of me started growing back."

  The princess smiled, "I can still feel it…but it is not possessed of the same dragon-like pressure it had the first time."

  She must be talking about his inner torment. Yeah we needed to keep an eye out for him. The princess can counsel him, and I can take him out for guy stuff. Sometimes that's all it takes, not always, but it does more good than harm. Don't just tell a guy to man up, show him how to do it. That's right, I was teachin' him some psychin up exercises, and I'd even quoted that movie about the Jamaican bobsledders. I can't overstate the importance of guy time; ya gotta be the fuzzy-footed potato-lovin' gardener to the curly-haired gentleman with a rich uncle for someone, you know.

  Sakamoto, Sedjiwaski, Hogan, Smith, Martinez - I knew I could count on those guys, and they could count on me. Anyway, yeah, I had no idea if Mal even had a good prognosis; something else needed to happen, I think. Trying to get him laid might not help either - ugh the cruel irony of depression rendering people not in the mood to engage in one of life's best stress relievers. Heck even I wasn't in the mood for a while after theater-girl broke it off with me and now here I stand a regular thing that rhymes with a Coney Island treat!

  "Well, well," said Mal, "I suppose I can admit to feeling a little better. Thank you, your highness."

  The princess stood to give a curtsy, and went back to sipping the mediocre coffee that she'd made - not that she couldn't make good coffee, God no, I taught her to use the French Press and she got pretty good at it - I meant the spell needed more work, that's all. The thought of offending the princess scared me for some reason or other, I didn't wanna see a hint of pain in her eyes, to paraphrase a man named after a flower and a car part. Man, I had to play that album next, that guitar opening is legendary.

  Moving on, our conversation went to more pleasant places after that. Nothing special, just bantering about the fire and talking about food. I even tried some of the dumb campfire songs we all loved in the scouts. I wish I'd thought to bring my acoustic guitar with me on my hunting trip, oh well. I wasn't the shred-legend that Johnny Hogan of "Tyrion's Wrath" was, but I got by. I chuckled, remembering that one conversation.

  "You named your band Tyrion's Wrath?" said Sakamoto, "like, from the wargame I play?"

  "Huh?" said Hogan, "No, from TV, you silly old [bleep]! Wait, they named one of yer models after-"

  "First of all, I'm a [bleep], get it right, you redneck octopus-head! Second, the elf prince had that name first, and he is way cooler!"

  I'd seen his model and I agreed, it was kinda badass, but I'd wondered if that name worked out to being a legit elf name in this world so I went and asked that night; yeah apparently it's more commonly a moon elf - er - moonborn elf name. So on and on we spoke of trivial matters before drifting off to sleep.

  The next day we hit pay dirt and found exactly what we were searching for: the Black Order Hideout.

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