Lone: The Wanderer [Rewrite] - Book 2: Chapter 68: Giving Up The Orb and Arrival

Book 2: Chapter 68: Giving Up The Orb and Arrival

Lone, Soph, and Breena, quickly found the table Guildmaster Hilda was sitting at. In front of her were several pints of ale alongside a small mountain of paperwork.

Clearly, unlike Gilbert who used his private office to his advantage, the guildmaster of Krieg Moor’s branch of The Adventurer’s Guild preferred to work in a more public space.

The powerful dwarven woman noticed them and hailed them over with a wave of her hand as she signed some documents.

Sitting down, Lone commented, “The more I interact with guildmasters, the more I’m beginning to believe the position is either a form of twisted retirement or just a training exercise to build up clerical skills.”

Hilda cracked a smile. “Ye’r nae far oof. It’s more the former than the latter, though. What quests did ye pick up?”

Lone raised an eyebrow. “The standing one that’s been around for about half a year to reclaim Urd Siltal. The second one was a personal request to find an heirloom belonging to a former resident and recover it since said resident fled to this krieg.”

Hilda nodded. “Good. Gae us ah minute.”

Lone obliged, allowing her to get through a few more documents before she finally put down her steamforged pen – something Lone deeply desired but resisted asking about or pinching for himself.

Hilda cracked her neck and said, “Ah call’d ye up ‘ere tae warn ya. Ah wasnae at yer court ‘earin’, but ah’ve ma connection. Ah certain someone – ah’m sure ya ken who – is very upset wae ‘ow the ‘ole trial went doon. Y’ken, on account ‘o ye nae bein’ dead an’ all. The Stone sings an’ its ah song ah blood ah’m afraid.”

‘Sheelda McStuderson. Is this the guildmaster’s way to tell me that woman’s hired assassins or something to try to kill me since lobbying with the judge didn’t pan out?’ Lone wondered.

He understood why she couldn’t be more direct. The walls had ears no matter where you went, after all.

“I suspected that already. Thanks for the warning but I’ll be fine,” Lone said respectfully.

Breena seemed a bit lost but Soph’s eyes were clear and full of judgemental understanding. Her other half having experienced many assassinations attempts against her during the Crusades likely made it easier for her to read between the lines here.

Hilda shrugged as she started massaging her presumably stiff shoulders. “Aye, ah dinnae doubt it. Any cunt who can fight Hamish the way ya did at yer rank is someone who can look oot fae ‘imself. It’s just ‘at its ma job tae look oot fae all ah ma adventurers. ‘At includes ye. Remember, impartial. The guild cares fae its own.”

‘The guild cares for its own…’ Lone pondered over that sentence for a short while before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a slightly cracked orb.

He placed the sphere on the table and gestured for the guildmaster to take it.

“‘At’s ah communication orb. Ah heavily used communication orb,” Hilda noted. “Now why would ye gae somethin’ like ‘at tae me?”

“The sister orb is in the hands of the missing guildmaster of Milindo, Gilbert Elksworth. Or Gilbert Shimmerscales. I have no idea what name of his you guys have him listed down as,” Lone said.

“This…” a mix of shock, joy, and intense suspicion clouded the guildmaster’s expression. “Ye’d be rewarded wae two white-gold coins just for ah trustworthy lead that may tell ‘o ‘is condition. Something like this though? If it allows constant contact wae ‘im, well… this’ll be worth at least ten white-gold coins an’ ah promotion. Guildmasters are irreplaceable assets tae the guild. Dae ye mind if ah test this?”

Lone shook his head. “Feel free. It only has about 14 or so more uses from our end, but Gilbert’s orb has three times that many so establishing long-term communication to figure out his location should be easy enough.”

The guildmaster wasted no time at all and injected her mana into the sphere, allowing it to activate.

“Lone? It’s not the time for our usual chat nor is it your turn to initiate the call. Did something happen?” Gilbert asked through the sphere.

“Mister Immortus contacted you this early, Teacher? Is something wrong?” Lone could hear Grimsley’s niece, Shana, asking curiously and with some worry in her voice.

“I don’t know. Lone?” the centuries-old White Dragonkin kissed by Death inquired once again.

“I’ve given the communication orb to the guildmaster of Krieg Moor’s branch of the guild,” Lone explained. “Since it’s close to breaking, I figured it’d be wise to see if we – or rather the guild – could somehow rescue you from that island you’re on. Better that than let the thing explode from overuse when we just chat with it.”

“Ah, I see. I thought you were hesitant to do that… No matter. Guildmaster Hilda, if I recall?” Gilbert asked.

“Aye… Aye, ‘at’s me. Can ye prove yer Guildmast’r Gilbert?” the stocky dwarven woman questioned, her suspicion on full blast.

“I can’t exactly show you my plate but if you’ll take the orb to a private room, I’ll confirm my identity for you,” Gilbert answered.

Hilda nodded and got up. She looked at Lone for a moment and said, “If this really is ‘im, ye’ll earn ah silver plate promotion exam chance as well as ah fat purse ah coins.”

Lone smiled. “I look forward to the good news. I’ll be off now. Gotta leave the city soon if I don’t want my head to explode or something.”

The woman snorted as she walked away. “Scripture magic’s nasty.”

“It has its perks,” he replied with a friendly nod.

Lone then got up and was quickly followed by Soph and Breena.

“How’s he gonna confirm who he is?” Soph asked.

Lone shrugged. “Could be some sort of guildmaster secret code he could recite. Maybe spill some guild secrets? Could always get Guildmaster Hilda to tell truths and lies. He’s the only White Dragonkin guildmaster as far as I’m aware given the small size of their race. His racial skill should be easy to identify.”

Soph held her chin and nodded like a sage. “I see.”

Before long, the trio had made it to the farwind gate they needed to leave through to reach Urd Siltal.

Breena was still a bit gloomy but Lone could see she was focusing more on the mission at hand and less on the discrimination he was being subjected to from the snide remarks and dirty looks he was getting as they passed groups of dwarves.

It was better that way. She needed to learn what he had; the only real way to change such treatment is with overwhelming power. Who would listen to a weak nobody just waiting to be taken advantage of?

‘Hopefully she doesn’t feel under pressure to do too much. Sheinlings may be weak compared to the Balor Demon Bats she couldn’t even touch, but they’re still monsters. Hyper-focus could lead to tunnel vision. Guess I just gotta look out for her,’ Lone thought as they continued their journey onwards.

A few days of travel had come and gone with little stopping Lone, Soph, and Breena, from traversing down the Farwinds.

As such, Lone had spent most of the time training some of his simpler passive skills. Nothing overly intensive like starving himself or cutting up his body, of course.

As they were coming up on the southern entrance to Urd Siltal, Lone decided to go over his recent notification logs.

Congratulations! The host’s passive skill Reading has levelled up! It is now Intermediate level 10.

Congratulations! The host’s passive skill Teaching Mastery has levelled up! It is now Intermediate level 6.

Congratulations! The host’s passive skill Teaching Mastery has levelled up! It is now Intermediate level 7.

The two levels for Teaching Mastery had actually come about as a result of Lone bouncing off some language training with Breena.

It had completely slipped his mind, but apparently when they had first come here Breena could barely speak a handful of sentences in Western Stone Dwarvish.

It made sense upon reflection. Lone and Soph were given a cheat in that they could understand any spoken language as their own mother tongue; English for Lone, Old Novgorod for Soph and Sophie.

Breena though? She could speak Milindonian, Common Beastkin, Redtail Dialect, and Western Common Human.

Four languages was certainly impressive given that she was barely 15-years-old, but that didn’t excuse that Lone and Soph had brought her to a foreign land where she could barely say ‘hello’ and ‘where’s the nearest train station?’

Thankfully, she was a quick learner even if she wouldn’t admit it and she was already at the ‘almost fluent but still speak with a funny accent’ level in Western Stone Dwarvish.

Due to that, Lone had used her to help brush up on his own understanding of the language. And as it just so happened, when she spoke to him in the brutish tongue and really focused on it, everything he said to her translated into it so he was able to help her with her pronunciation and sentence structure. Truly a win-win.

Of course, during the nights, when he wasn’t on watch, Lone had been meditating and massaging Sophie – Soph still refused to partake in that particular activity.

Congratulations! The host’s active skill Meditation has levelled up! It is now Intermediate level 6.

Congratulations! The host’s passive skill Massage Mastery has levelled up! It is now Beginner level 8.

Congratulations! The host’s passive skill Massage Mastery has levelled up! It is now Beginner level 9.

Congratulations! The host’s passive skill Basic Massage Technique has levelled up! It is now Beginner level 5.

Congratulations! The host’s passive skill Basic Massage Technique has levelled up! It is now Beginner level 6.

Congratulations! The host’s passive skill Basic Massage Technique has levelled up! It is now Beginner level 7.

And finally, Lone had been working on his map-making skills during the journey.

Congratulations! The host’s passive skill Cartography has levelled up! It is now Intermediate level 5.

Suddenly, Soph stopped dead in her tracks.

“Soph?” Lone inquired.

She narrowed her eyes dangerously as she pointed forward, deep down the tunnel.

Lone focused in on his Enhanced Vision and when he saw what had made his girlfriend so alert, he unintentionally spat out, “What in the name of all that is holy are you doing here?”

A confused Breena watched in silence as a dwarven man slowly jogged towards them.

Shrugging, the man who was quite clearly Hamish, pointed a lazy finger at Breena. “Ah dinnae like tae leave things unfinished. That, Fox, is unfinished.”

Lone frowned. “You’re not becoming a permanent part of this party.”

Hamish laughed scornfully. “Ah didnae ask fae ‘at. Ah’m ‘ere tae finish teachin’ ‘er ‘ow naw tae get ‘erself killed while acting as ah scout. Cannae exactly dae ‘at in Krieg Moor where associatin’ maself wae ye and yers is akin tae social suicide.”

Soph frowned. “Complicated way to say you just want to keep training your protégé. If you’re here though, you’re here. Do you have any useful intel for us?”

The dwarf nodded. “Sure. Already scouted the urd top tae bottom. There’s aboot 150 ah the ghastly little fecker’s in there. They seem tae spend most o’ the day jumping aboot an’ dancin’ atop their pile ah junk in the urd’s central square. Freaky little fuckers afflicted wae madness ‘at they are…”

Lone rubbed his chin thoughtfully when he noticed Soph disappear and then reappear a moment later.

“143 exactly, 14 of which are about twice the size of the normal ones and 17 of which are smaller, more nimble looking. There are two guard stations, one of the other side of that gate,” she said, pointing to the distant entrance, “and another at the northern gate. Both contain 13 and 14 Sheinlings respectively. 112 have long metal claw weapons and the rest have a pair daggers barely smaller than a short sword. Crude tools but sharp enough to kill. The smaller Sheinlings have a viscous liquid in a jar on their belts. Poison I think, meant for dipping with their blades.”

Hamish’s jaw slowly gaped before he threw his hands up in defeat and glared at Lone. “Ah hate ‘er. She invalids ma entire career an’ all o’ ma life’s trainin’.”

Lone laughed. “And this is Soph, the kinder one.”

The woman in question wore a smug grin on her face. “If Lone won’t let me or my other half kill you, I can at least do your job better than you could ever dream to.”

Hamish shook his head sadly. “Whatever. Ah’m mostly ‘ere tae train Breena. Ah assume yer all fine wae ‘at?”

Lone looked towards Breena who looked back a bit hopefully.

Seeing that, he nodded. “The contract from before is still in effect, so sure. Unless you have any complaints, Breena?”

The girl shook her head. “I need to get stronger.”

“Ain’t ‘at the truth, lass?” Hamish asked. “Fae everyone. Always ah higher wall.”

“Doubly so for your short ass,” Lone mocked. “Anyway, if no one has any objections, I’d like to start reclaiming the urd.”

“At least ah dinnae ‘ave tae crouch tae walk through doors,” Hamish muttered as he walked ahead. “What dae ye lot ken aboot Sheinlings?”

“Nothing,” Soph admitted.

Breena nodded hesitantly. “S-Same.”

Lone pursed his lips. “A bit. They’re a fallen race with little sense left in them. They’ve been entirely consumed by the madness of the Deep Well, right?”

Hamish raised a surprised eyebrow. “Didnae take ye fae the learned type. Ye seem more like the rush in, kill what ye can, then feck off type.”

Soph nodded. “He is.”

“I resent that. I do a lot of reading and research on top of Leeroying, thank you very much,” Lone replied.

“The feck is ‘leeroying’?” Hamish inquired.

Lone shook his head sadly. “A cultural phenomenon. Regardless, this is a world fairly unfamiliar to me, after all. The Farwinds are like a world of their own too on top of that. I’d be dumb to not read a book here or there.”

He saw Soph don a sheepish look on her beautiful face upon hearing his words so he quickly said, “That doesn’t apply to you. You get to leech off of my knowledge. I get love and affection. Fair trade if you ask me.”

Soph laughed sweetly at that while Hamish groaned as if in pain.

Lone coughed. “More seriously, what do you know about the little bastards that might be useful for us?” he asked.

Hamish shrugged. “Ye got it mostly in one. Ye ever fought a goblin? We dinnae ‘ave those doon ‘ere but ah’ve ‘eard they are strikingly similar in fighting style.”

“Untrained but surprisingly agile?” Lone asked.

The dwarf smiled in agreement. “Aye. They’re scary little feckers. If it wernae fae the madness an’ their crazed obsession wae coins and jewels, they’d be ah whole race o’ traceless assassins. They do average oot though at aboot D-rank so they’re nae ‘at bad.”

“Is…” Breena gathered her courage as she continued, “Is that why no one t-took this request, leaving it as a task for the militaristically enlisted to do?”

Hamish raised an eyebrow. “Yer Western Stone Dwarfish has improved.”

Breena blushed, not having expecting the praise. “T-Thank you.”

The dwarf nodded then answered her question. “Aye. The madness makes them slower and less practised than yer typical assassin, but when there’s dozens o’ ’em at ah time flyin’ at ya all unpredictable like, it’s ah scary thing tae face.”

“Thanks,” Lone said. “That’s good to know. Given our particular talents, however, I doubt we’ll struggle much.”

Hamish replied, “Aye, but ah am wonderin’ ‘ow ah’ll properly train the wee fox if ye an’ miss flip-flopper over there are just gonna teleport in an’ outta the dungeon tae slowly but safely kill ’em all.”

“Oh it classifies as a dungeon? That’s cool,” Lone noted. “Only ever seen one of those. Filled with goblins, ironically enough.”

Soph frowned. “Split-personality. I don’t ‘flip-flop’.”

Lone smiled wryly. “We’ll be fine, Hamish. Breena will have plenty of chances to train, as will Soph and Sophie. Me too, really. Heck, even you if you want. It’ll be easy.”

“‘Ow’d ya figure?” Hamish asked.

Lone’s wry smile turned into a grin. “Teleportation doesn’t need to be used only for teleporting people in. It can also be used for just the opposite.”