DEGM 4, Chapter 20: Player Killers (Patreon)

“I may be the first in my family to conquer a dungeon,” Prince Rodrigo mused as his entourage stepped out of the dungeon and into the Gomi forest. “My brothers would never be so brave.”

While Hans fought to keep from rolling his eyes, he noticed that the people around the Prince were well-practiced at disguising their reactions. They simply held stoic expressions and nodded along, agreeing with everything the Prince said. Devon was equally practiced at the same skill, it seemed.

A sparrow landed on Hans’ shoulder.

Incredible timing as always.

Devon saw the sparrow perched on the Guild Master. He caught Hans’ eye, and the two nodded to each other. 

The Paladin stepped forward while Hans slipped away. 

“My Prince,” Devon said. “I have one more gift for you, a sword previously wielded by a real durrachan and crafted by the fae.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, my Prince. If it pleases you, follow me to the armory.”

The idea of another present delighted Prince Rodrigo. He seemed tempted to skip to the armory instead of walking.

A few seconds later, Hans was in the forest with enough structures between him and the entourage that no one would see. The Lady of the Forest took shape from the few orange and yellow leaves that had already dropped from Gomi’s trees.

“Men with evil in their hearts have hidden themselves near the pass,” she said, her voice carrying the hollow growl of a winter wind. That was the first time Hans had heard unpleasantness in the Lady’s tone.

“Evil? How so?”

“I do not claim to understand the minds of men, but I believe they mean to harm your guests.”

According to Hans’ research, bandits staking out Gomi’s mountain pass wasn’t unheard of, but it had not happened in quite some time. The merchant caravans were well-defended, and the products delivered to and from Gomi tended more toward practical essentials than any sort of treasure. 

That was no longer the case, Hans realized. With Gomi’s new exports, successfully plundering one of their wagons would yield quite the profit. If bandits succeeded in robbing a Prince, they would have enough wealth to go wherever they wanted to live a life of decadence and debauchery.

If they succeeded.

Targeting a Prince was already somewhere between bold and suicidal. This group was clever enough to track and predict the route of a royal delegation, but they must have been unaware of Hardrob’s presence. No one with any sense of self-preservation would reach near the fangs of that viper.

“Thank you, my Lady.”

“When does the god of torment intend to depart?” she asked. 

Hans stumbled at first, surprised by the Lady seeking information from him for once. Her tone was concerned, revealing that Hardrob’s presence in her forest bothered her far more than he realized. Becky had said the dryad was concerned, but her words bordered on fear. 

“I believe within a day, two at most,” Hans said.

The dryad didn’t reply. Her form collapsed, and she was gone.

Being afraid of Hardrob wasn’t ever a challenge for Hans. The Blue Mage’s reputation and abilities were well known, and Hans had experienced enough venoms and poisons over his career that he had little desire to try the terrible flavors Hardrob could inflict.

But hearing someone like the Lady of the Forest express concern about his presence added a new edge to Hans’ fear of the dwarf. Anything that made a near-immortal being nervous was dangerous enough to send whole towns of mere mortals fleeing for their lives.

“Thank you!” Hans shouted into the forest.

Prince Rodrigo was swinging a durrachan bone blade at the air when Hans rejoined the entourage. He pulled Devon aside and whispered in his ear.

“My Prince,” Devon said, “we have received word that a group of bandits is plotting to ambush your party on the way back to Osare.”

“How is it you know this?” the dwarf inquisitor asked.

“We are blessed to have Druids who call the forest home. They have brought us this warning.”

“Ha!” the Prince said. “Bandits raiding wagons? How novel.”

Hardrob stepped forward and spoke in his scratchy voice. “I would ride ahead to resolve this, my Prince. If Devontes would take up my post in the interim, that is.”

Prince Rodrigo didn’t bother to speak with or even look at Devon. “Go on. Your face will be enough to send them running.”

“Thank you, my Prince.”

In minutes, Hardrob was on a horse. He clicked his tongue and tapped his heels against his mount’s ribs, sending him and his horse galloping down the mountain.

The Prince waved at the rest of his entourage. “Let’s be on our way as well. I’ve had my fill of rural living.”

***

The distance between Gomi and the mountain pass that led to Osare was roughly a two-day journey, depending on weather and the tenacity of the travelers. Hans expected a royal escort to move even more slowly, but he was pleased to learn that Prince Rodrigo’s attendants were more disciplined and organized than their master. Managing the Prince’s whims seemed every bit as much of their process as how they repacked the wagons after making camp. Just another chore to be completed as efficiently as possible.

Hans had no desire whatsoever to spend more time with the Prince, but seeing to it that the threat was truly addressed felt appropriate. Furthermore, leaving Devon alone with the Prince for even a few days felt cruel. It was clear to Hans how much Devon hated being another piece of entertainment for the royal family.

The Prince initially insisted that Devon join him in his carriage, but the Paladin deftly argued his way out of that prison. If bandits were in the area, it was best if he was outside of the carriage where he could react immediately to keep everyone safe. Thankfully, the Prince didn’t protest that logic.

Devon and Hans were on horseback a few wagons ahead of the royal carriage but still several wagons away from the front of the caravan. That position was their preferred balance between getting to the danger first and being close enough to the Prince to provide assistance and protection if necessary.

Two soldiers walked on foot to either side of the adventurers. They carried long spears.

“What’s that smell?” one of them asked. The scent was so powerful that the man momentarily forgot his poise and decorum, recoiling at the stench.

The air was heavy with rot, but a second smell wafted along with it. This one had the chemical smell of a burnt potion, like if Olza ran the temperature on a recipe far too hot, turning her brew into a charred film that took forever to scrub away.

“Master Hardrob,” the other soldier said. His face took on a light green pallor.

The other soldier had a similar reaction but spoke no more.

And the wagons continued forward.

Perhaps a quarter of a mile from the mountain pass, the Gomi forest ended abruptly, like the unnatural treeline left by a logging crew. No lumberjacks had been through here, though. Only Hardrob.

Hans hadn’t traveled this close to Osare since his original journey into Gomi, but he remembered how lush and dense this forest was. When he first came out of the mountain pass and down the road into the forested valley, it felt old and untamed with centuries of growth towering all around him. The density of the canopy kept this road in permanent shade, as if the interior of the forest knew only dusk and dawn but never true daylight.

Squinting at the sudden shift in brightness, Hans saw that the forest he remembered was now gone. The scene reminded him of when Mazo used her elder vampire ability in the Ogre Valley. She hadn’t burned anything, but the shriveled corpses of plantlife and the complete disintegration of every leaf and blade of glass was as thorough as a forestfire. 

The only thing left alive in this part of Gomi’s forest sat by a campfire a ways down the road, at the start of the mountain pass. Hardrob had his arms crossed and his head down, napping.

A pain lanced through Hans’ chest. He thought of Becky and Buru and the Lady of the Forest. Seeing this devastation would break their hearts. Worse, the Lady of the Forest seemed to have expected this outcome.

She called Hardrob a god of torment, which was not so different from the Merchant of the Mountain calling Devon a war god. Hans wondered if Devon was making the same connection in his thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to ask, if there even was a time to ask such a thing. 

Traveling through a newly formed wasteland had a way of driving everyone to silence. Even the horses seemed to step more softly.

Hardrob stood when the caravan approached. One of the mounted knights rode ahead to speak with the Blue Mage and swiftly returned. 

“Master Hardrob has eliminated the bandits,” he reported. 

…and everything else.

The caravan slowed to a stop to gather Hardrob. Almost immediately, the inquisitor dwarf appeared and said, “The Prince demands that we not tarry. It is his will for us to continue onward immediately.”

Devon looked down on the grotesque Blue Mage. “People depend on this forest,” he said.

“You cared not for your own wake, as I recall,” Hardrob replied. “You kept your eyes forward as we all do, and now you seek to judge?”

“I yield my duties to you, Master Hardrob,” Devon said, already turning his horse back toward Gomi. The Blue Mage only nodded.

When Devon took off at a gallop, Hans happily left the Prince behind to follow.

New Quest: Fix the poisoned forest.

***

Hans and Devon didn’t bother stopping to make camp. They rode through the night, arriving at Gomi’s gates in the pale light of a fall morning. The Guild Master found himself wishing he had worn a heavier tunic or a jacket as the chill bit at his skin.

Charlie and Galinda sat outside of their home drinking tea. Galinda had a sketchpad on her lap–one of the recycled books from Bunri’s tower–and was dressed as if she were about to enjoy a summer day. Her husband, meanwhile, gripped the handle of his cup through a blanket to keep the cold air from getting in.

“Good morning, gentlemen!” Charlie called. “Our guests have gone, I take it?”

Two of the Gomi guards offered to tend to the adventurers’ horses. Hans and Devon handed off the reins and both accepted a warm cup of tea from Galinda. For Hans, the exhaustion of the last few days stoked a dull headache, and his eyes felt dry no matter how much he blinked. But he very much welcomed a cup of tea.

When Charlie saw Hans’ dejected face, he too frowned. “Oh gods. Well, do it. Rip the arrow out, and be done with it.”

“In the process of killing the bandits, Hardrob sacrificed a big chunk of the forest. Hard to say how large, but it’s close to a quarter square mile, I’d estimate.”

“What an asshole,” Charlie said. “Poor Becks. This will crush our girl, I’m afraid.”

“I agree,” Hans said. “I’d like to get started on that problem right away. May I borrow a piece of paper?”

Galinda tore out a sheet and gave it to Hans. He then borrowed her pencil to hastily jot down a list.

“I know we don’t have manpower to spare,” Hans said as he finished writing, “but the forest has been too good to us for us to sit idle. She may already blame us, in fact.”

Charlie pinched the paper through the fabric of his blanket and read. “I agree we don’t got the hands to spare, but you’re right that we should do something. Plantin’ bronzewoods that close to Osare is going to attract loggers and probably a few poachers, but I suppose that problem is better than leaving the wound open to the world.”

The Mayor stood and shrugged off his blanket. 

“I’ll get a group together right away,” he said. He turned to go and stopped. “Also, Galad called a meeting for when you get back. Wouldn’t tell us what about but seemed serious. After that, we should celebrate this inquest being behind us.”

You won’t feel much like celebrating after that meeting.

Hans didn’t desire to be the bearer of bad news, but he also disliked keeping something so significant from his friends. Galad insisted on doing it this way, though, and Hans was willing to respect that.

So, all the Guild Master could manage was to say, “Yeah, sure.”

“I’m going to wait for Charlie,” Devon said. “I’ll head back out to the pass with whoever we’re sending to help. No one should be that far from town without an escort.”

The Guild Master had seen enough of the world to hear the words Devon didn’t speak aloud. Yes, being out in the wilderness alone was dangerous, that was a known and accepted fact, but the average townsperson hadn’t seen undead rise from the ashes of calamity or dealt with vengeful ghosts desperate to share their pain with the living. No bandit had a peaceful death. That certainty made the danger of wild mana more likely.

Galinda invited the adventurers to come inside for breakfast. Devon accepted while Hans graciously declined. He needed sleep, terribly so, but he had one more stop to make before he allowed himself to sit.

Now that all of the refugees were in Leebel’s Rest, Gomi didn’t feel as busy as it did leading up to the Gomi Games, but the town was very much alive. They were a community of working people, most were already awake and readying themselves for the day’s labor. Hans was in the strange position of everyone knowing his name while he didn’t know theirs. After a few hundred handshakes, names and faces blurred together in his mind, especially if that was his one and only interaction with that individual.

So when townspeople waved or asked him how he was, he did his best to return their genuine warmth without having to admit he didn’t know who they were.

Leaving that social gauntlet behind, Hans ventured through the bronzewood farm, the rows and rows of fairy wood trees planted to be harvested for their lumber when they were grown. When he got to the other side, where the Gomi forest began again, he stopped beneath a familiar tree.

The Lady of the Forest had visited him here once, and she gave him the gift of a peaceful night’s sleep, something he had not had for a very long time. 

“I don’t know if you hear me when I do this,” he said aloud. “And I know this doesn’t mean much, but I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

On the previous occasions where Hans spoke to the Lady in this way, she had never replied. This time, though, the silence felt like her answer.

***

Open Quests (Ordered from Old to New):

Address the Night Terrors.

Investigate the possibility of the orc lich being the orc’s Wargod.

Rebuild Leebel’s Rest.

Monitor the changes in the dungeon core.

Be the friend Devon needs.

Investigate uses for sedimander teeth.

Complete the next volume (Bronze to Silver) for “The Next Generation: A Teaching Methodology for Training Adventurers.”

Establish a Hoseki-grade library in Gomi.

Collect knowledge from visiting adventurers.

Finish renovating and move into your new home.

Fix the poisoned forest.