Lone: The Wanderer [Rewrite] - Book 2: Chapter 32: Departing and A Dwarf's Thoughts

Book 2: Chapter 32: Departing and A Dwarf’s Thoughts

“Well, Soph?” Lone asked as he walked down the street with her and Breena by his side. Kyuubi was safely tucked away in his skill, The Summoning Dimension.

Soph gingerly took the white wooden pickaxe from him and inspected it closely with her Mana Sensing. “Hmmmm… I don’t feel anything wrong with it. I mean, it has magic in it but so does literally everything else. There’s no spells or hidden enchantments as far as I can tell.”

She handed the tool back to Lone and he immediately put it in his Dimensional Storage. Nodding, he said, “The guy seemed nice but it was a bit random him giving us this. I just needed to check.”

“That makes sense. Um,” Soph scratched her cheek a bit sheepishly. “Do you really, uh, not want to say goodbye to your teacher?”

Lone shook his head. “Absolutely not. It’s bad enough that our connection is so openly known. If I go and say goodbye to him it’ll only give people even more of an excuse to investigate him. Becoming an Epitome doesn’t seem to really bother him but it’s a massive thing in all of dwarven culture, not just for Stone Dwarves. I don’t want to fuck him over. If he’s smart, he’ll deny teaching me a thing beyond simple smithing.”

“Did he teach you anything more?” Soph asked.

Lone replied telepathically as he chuckled. “Of course he didn’t, that still won’t stop people from accusing him though. People here are better than in Malino, sure, but inter-species tensions still exist. Me not being a dwarf will raise alarms in some people’s heads no matter what.”

“Hmm… Sounds more complicated than it should be…” Soph said as she scrunched up her brow and frowned.

He shrugged. “He’s a famous steamforger, enough so to be epitomised. It’s in our nature for some loud voices to hate those of public acclaim.”

“Even the Black Iron Company?” Soph asked innocently.

Lone smiled wryly. “I suppose? Let’s talk about something a little bit less depressing. Breena.”

“Huh? Um… yes?” the girl asked back in confusion.

“We’re gonna be doing combat training every day that we’re out in the Farwinds, you, me and Soph,” Lone declared. “We’re all pretty low ranked after all. We need to have as many skills as possible, and I don’t mean system skills.”

Breena slowly nodded in realisation. “I, uh, I’ll do my best…”

“Or so their conversation went,” Silvergus said as he finished his report to Felix Morstone. “I didn’t even need to act or anything to get them to talk. It came up in conversation naturally while I was watching them. They were talking in a kind of hushed tone though.”

“Why would they whisper if they wernae tryin’ tae hide somethin’?” Felix asked, confusion marring his expression.

“Man, hearing the local tongue is kinda nice after so many years workin’ topside,” Silvergus commented absentmindedly. “Professional or personal opinion?”

Felix waved dismissively. “Personal. Yer professional one can gae in the written report. Ah’ll also try tae get ye ah more local job after this one’s done an’ dusted, old friend.”

“Aye, I’d appreciate that. Well, I think they just wanted privacy. I wouldn’t exactly shout about my relation to the kingdom’s leading steamforged artefact inventor if I wasn’t a dwarf. They seem to be in a hurry to fuck off and clear their name. Well, the Golden Foxkin’s name. Loyal friends, those girls. Makes a man jealous,” Silvergus laughed.

Felix rubbed his neck in mild relief. “That’s good. Ah pile ah shite all-round save fae the small flecks ah gold dottin’ the crap ‘ere an’ there. The feckin’ bother we’d get fae the great’r council if the next Epitome was teachin’ oor secrets tae ah non-dwarf…”

Silvergus shrugged. “Not my business, really. Hell, if it were up to me, we’d be opening up trade in the art of steamforgin’ for other valuable practices asap. We’re a bit lackin’ in the innovation field. Folk like Wilbur only show up once in a few millennia, literally. The high king should be called the Epitome of Stagnation when he kicks the bucket.”

“Ye could be executed on grounds ah treason fae sayin’ ‘at,” Felix warned.

Silvergus shrugged. “Eh. Only if you clipe on me. Anyhoo, I’ve a pub to get to. That is unless you’ve got another impromptu mission ready for me on my first day back in 14-years?”

“Nah, nah I dinnae. Cheers again. Ah owe ya one,” Felix said in farewell.

“Whatever you say, Felix,” Silvergus replied. ‘I mean, the girl was 100% lying. She knew the answer to her question before she even asked it. That Lone kid was also lying too. Hard to tell, really. Lad’s a persuasive fuck’r. I was only asked to see what the foxkin’s relationship to Wilbur was though. As far as the council’s concerned, he’s a normal smithing apprentice outsourced from The Adventurer’s Guild. The less people who know he’s Wilbur’s last genuine apprentice and knows steamforgin’, the better.’

‘The powerful mana source left,’ Soph informed Lone via their telepathic connection.

Lone exhaled in relief. ‘Thank fuck. I was worried when you said someone was following us but I’m glad they weren’t planning to follow us into the Farwinds too. I wonder what they wanted…’

‘Em, by the way… did we have to lie?’ Soph asked as she looked down at the ground. ‘I mean, uh, I can do it but it makes me feel a bit uncomfortable…’

Lone chuckled mentally at that. ‘Says the girl who didn’t tell me about her crazy second personality for weeks. Hell, even Breena doesn’t know about Sophie. I bet she just thinks you have a screw or two loose. Don’t look at me like that. I’m not actually criticizing you. Serious answer? Yeah. We had to lie. I don’t want to cause any trouble for Gramps. Just as I imagine you, Sophie, and Breena, don’t want to bring any potential harm to Mister Fits’war, right?’

Soph nodded softly in response.

‘By the way,’ Lone said, ‘How were you so convincing then? I really believed you when you seemed confused about if I’d learned steamforging or not.‘

‘Hehehe I got a new skill to help with that stuff. Per… Persuasion? Yup. Persuasion. Sophie got it for us when she convinced you to stop hurting yourself for pleasure,’ Soph explained innocently.

‘Fuckin’ yikes. I’m not a masochist, thank you very much,’ Lone replied faintly. ‘Also, congrats on the new skill. It’s a useful one, for sure. Try to level it off of me. We can do some testing to see if that works at some point. Y’know, being conscious of it affecting you and if that still allows for level-ups.’

‘Potty mouth,’ Soph scolded before smiling sweetly. ‘Uh, that sounds a bit boring but I’m happy to help you if you think it’s worthwhile.’

‘You wound the scholar within me,’ Lone cried in indignation.

Soph giggled. ‘I don’t like the scholar in you. He’s not fun at all. All he ever does is mutter to himself and write in his journal while I watch him from our bed.’

‘The angel sheds her skin only to reveal the true devil lying beneath,’ Lone lamented. ‘That was a message from my inner poet, by the way – my inner scholar’s apprentice.’

Soph stuck out her tongue playfully. ‘Maybe they know what you really want. You love succubi, don’t you?’

‘How did you learn about that? No, better yet, how did you learn about succubi in the first place? You don’t read,’ Lone asked in shock.

‘So it’s true! Mister Fits’war is wiser than he lets on…’ Soph replied in shock.

‘That damn camp elf. What other ideas has he shoved in her head?’ Lone thought in defeat. ‘Well, since it’s out of the bag, I made this outfit for you, right? Made it before I fixed your eyes… Do you, y’know, think you or Sophie could, well…’

‘You’re such a pervert. Of course I’ll wear it for you,’ Soph answered with an adorable smile on her face.

‘You sound more and more like Sophie every day. Where did my constantly apologising little bundle of cuteness fly off to?’ Lone asked in jest.

Soph laughed a little, drawing a subdued and curious glance from Breena. ‘Hehe she’s still there for when she actually makes mistakes… I love you, Lone.’

‘I love you too, Soph,’ Lone replied with a smile of his own.

Not long later he and his companions were back at the Rusty Sprocket.

Lone explained his group’s circumstances to the inn’s owner before they headed upstairs one final time.

Breena was sent to gather up her belongings while Lone helped Soph get into her armour. As he did that, a curious thought struck him.

‘It’s gotta be possible to get enchantments that allow the armour to change shape based on the wearer, right? If Soph could weaponise her Body Manipulation to throw opponents off-balance or force strikes to miss her due to becoming smaller, that would be a great boon,’ Lone thought off-handedly as he stored their bed and returned the inn’s original one.

Once he was done doing the same to the rest of the furniture and their belongings, he left the room with Soph. He put Breena’s things into his Dimensional Storage, then they left the place they’d called home for well over a month.

Half an hour passed as they walked through Krieg Moor and entered the Farwinds. The traffic was as colossal as he remembered it with thousands of people walking around and dozens upon dozens of carts and convoys going and arriving.

Even with the majority of the Farwinds being blocked off, it seemed that business between the local kriegs was as busy as it likely ever was.

‘I wonder how they’re doing with reopening the paths to the rest of the dwarven kingdom? Hell, for all I know, it could all be fixed by now. Krieg Moor is pretty rural from my understanding, what with it being one of the access points to the surface and thus, is as far from the capital as it could possibly be,’ Lone thought curiously.

They slipped out with no problems whatsoever. Lone couldn’t help but wonder if that was down to Soph’s Luck stat or perhaps no one truly wanted to stop them from what could easily be inferfed as an attempt to flee responsibility.

Regardless, after a day of travel, they soon found themselves straying from the well-travelled Farwinds.

Lone held a torch in his hand to help light the way. The Farwinds were massive as if intended to host giants but, while they had lighting enchantments lining the murals on the walls, floor, and roof, many of them had lost their power or had been damaged over the many years since they were created.

Maintenence of such enchantments was difficult enough for the hundreds of miles worth of frequently used Farwinds, let alone unvisited roads like the one Lone and his group were trekking down right now.

This issue only got worse and worse the further one strayed from the well-travelled Farwinds.

Soph held out a hand to stop Lone. “There’s someone in front of us.”

“What was your current range limit again?” Lone asked.

“1,000-metres now that we’re both D-ranked,” Soph answered.

“A whole kilometre. Well, let’s stay cautious and go say hi, shall we?” Lone asked. Both Breena and Soph nodded in response.

It took no time at all for the light of Lone’s torch to illuminate the feature’s of the person waiting for them. It was a stroke of good fortune that they were mostly lit up by the overhead enchantments as well, meaning they didn’t need to get too close to the figure.

“Make one wrong move and you’ll be leaking your brains out of your face, pal,” Lone warned the man standing in the middle of the Farwinds road he, Soph, and Breena, were walking down.

A few minutes earlier, Hamish sighed. ‘Ah cannae believe ah’m doin’ this…’

He leaned back his head and stared up at the ceiling of the Farwinds. The artistry of the murals was lost on him. Maybe that was why he had no issues smashing it to pieces to reclaim lost urds and kriegs.

There was a whole political party that petitioned to the high king’s council to have companies like his disbanded to stop ‘destroying the cultural heritage of all dwarves’.

They were only doing what they were hired to do, finding and reclaiming lost territory. Sure, they occasionally had to locate an abandoned armoury or treasury and ended up half-destroying the places to access them.

Before, he’d never really cared. What was the value of unseen history in the face of immediate benefits to the people still around to appreciate them?

Hamish chuckled. ‘Maybe those historical-lovin’ whack-jobs might actually be onta somethin’. Ewan, Kieran, McShan… All ah the lads… Maybe they’d still be ‘ere if we werenae so dedicated tae explorin’. They should really shift their political marketin’ tae the dangers of the trade, nae the cultural heritage it wrecks, heh.’

Sadly, however, his teammates weren’t here to join in his reflection. No, they were all dead and he was here waiting for the group of outsiders who had declared they’d wipe out the monsters responsible and even retrieve the bodies of his friends, of his family. ‘A group whose leader ah just aboot murdered.’

Hamish thought about how many lethal attacks the foxkin had not only failed to dodge but had also failed to die from. ‘Ah’ve met ah lot ah strange folk in ma days even not havin’ left the Farwinds and ‘er strongholds before but ‘at fecker was ah freak ah nature. ‘Ow ‘e’s still only ah D-rank’r is ah mystery beyond minds like ma own.’

At that moment, he heard footsteps coming from down the road from roughly 300-metres away. He was primarily a scout, after all. Detection and being able to evade it were his specialities.

He cracked his neck and sighed again. ‘Still hurts. Either the fecker smacked ma heed ‘arder than it looked or the ‘ealer ah ‘ired scammed me. Either way, this’ll be ah right feckin’ pain.’

A few dozen seconds passed as the group approached and when the light of their torches made contact with him, revealing his figure, they reacted immediately. Well, two of them did.

Hamish watched the human girl clad head-to-toe in armour tense up instantly while the Golden Foxkin frowned deeply. The Crimson Foxkin, on the other hand, looked a little bit lost at the sudden tension.

“Make one wrong move and you’ll be leaking your brains out of your face, pal,” the Golden Foxkin warned.

“He’s the one?” the human asked.

The foxkin nodded back in response. Immediately the feeling around the woman barely a foot taller than himself shifted. Hamish watched in confusion as her peaceful and worried aura exploded into one of fury and killing intent.

“Calm down, Sophie,” the foxkin commanded. “I’ll kill him the moment he moves without me telling him to, don’t you worry.”

‘Why’s ‘e so confident ‘e can finish me off so definitively an’ with such certainty?’ Hamish thought.

At the best of times, he was brash and a bit quick to act, as proven by what he did just yesterday. Still, even he knew not to underestimate such overwhelming confidence. It usually meant absolutely lunacy, a world-class liar, or someone who could actually do what their confidence claimed.

All three of which were things to be extremely cautious about when in such a scenario, much like this one.

“Ah’m nae ‘ere tae fight,” he said as he slowly raised his hands in a show of peace. ‘If it comes tae it, ah can easily kill the three ah ’em in ah few seconds. Even if the fox’s hidin’ ah trump card ah sorts, so am ah. Ah doubt whatever means ‘e ‘as tae kill me can beat ma fleein’ abilities.’

“Then why are you here, Dwarf?” the foxkin asked with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

‘Feck it’s unsettlin’ ‘ow ‘ealthy ‘e looks. Fecker must be an ‘alf-Lich or somethin’. Would explain the regeneration an’ ootright stupid stats when it comes tae ah D-rank’r,’ Hamish thought while he chose his next words very carefully.

“Look, ye an’ yers. Ye’r plannin’ tea gae tae Urd Grun, aye? Clear yer name an’ all ‘at?” he asked, trying to warm the conversation’s ice-cold temperature up a little.

The foxkin narrowed his eyes. “The name which you so helpfully dragged through the mud along with that non-existent honour of yours, yes.”

‘Fox’s got teeth. Fecker kens ‘ow tae bite with ’em tae,’ Hamish thought as he tried to ignore his rising wounded pride. ‘There are mere important things right noo, ya daft cunt.’

“Ah deserved ‘at, ah suppose. Well, look, naeb’dy wants tae clear oot Urn Grun an’ retrieve the bodies ah my brothers as much as ah do. Simple as ‘at. Ah ken ah cannae dae it alone though an’ ‘oo in their right mind would take ah quest ‘at damn-near wiped oot the whole Black Iron Company?” Hamish reasoned.

The human girl scoffed. “You mean to team up with us? Absolutely not. Lone, let us kill him and be done with this thorn in our sides.”

‘Well, ah expected ‘at reaction fae the fox ‘imself, nae from the Drundara,’ Hamish thought as he glanced at the fully armoured girl. ‘Best nae use ‘at slur tae ‘er face. Doubt she’ll take kindly tae it an’ ah really dae need some warm bodies tae distract the hordes so ah can slip in, get ma brothers, then slip oot.’

He was a bit unsettled that the only one out of the three who didn’t want to nor think she could kill him was the Crimson Foxkin hiding in the shadow of her kin. ‘The Drundara is nuts just like ‘e is. She’s got a lot ah magic, ah’ll gae ‘er ‘at, but she thinks she can kill me? Feckin’ say ‘at when ye survive ah proper fight wae me like ‘e did.’

The foxkin in question raised a hand to calm his human companion. “Second chances, Sophie. I’m willing to accept your help, Dwarf.”

“Feckin’ fantastic. Well then let’s set o-“

“Ah, ah, ah. Not quite so quickly.” The foxkin touched the adventurer’s pouch at his waist. A moment later, a steel bucket with a thick smelling red liquid entered his right hand and a piece of parchment entered his left. “It’s time for some contract magic, I think.”