Chapter 33: Loose Ends
“You alright, Balin?”
“Aye Pete. I’m glad you aren’t dead.”
“So am I.”
“SO AM I!” Sam nuzzled a bulging leather bag that clinked as he rubbed it.
“Rude.” Wreck opined.
“Gold is Gold!” The three of us retorted.
“I admit none of us had ‘crazy Pete’s experiment summons monsters’ as part o’ the bet. I still won a good chunk off ya livin’.” Sam said as he put the leather back into his pocket.
“They don’t really call me ‘Crazy Pete’ do they?” I asked, as my eyebrows furrowed. An impressive sight when you have eyebrows as bushy as a squirrel’s tail.
“Uh.” Sam looked away.
“We’re all glad ya lived, Pete.” Said Wreck. She even patted me on the shoulder.
We were standing around Balin’s cot in the infirmary. The infirmary was a small alcove off to the side of Grim’s office, and I recognized it as the room I’d arrived at when I reincarnated here. I looked around with a small amount of nostalgia. The plain grey walls with slight adornment, the musty smell of earth and dwarf, and the cheerful voice of Balin were all the same. The only thing missing was –
“I want a full report! Number of wounded, and supplies used! Healer Bastion has been held up at the dungeon, so I want constant updates on Lillyweather’s status! You, guard, I want you on the dwarf we discussed until I say stop, got it?” Grim was in fine form. He had managed to escape unscathed from the initial attack, and had taken charge of the entire operation. He was the picture of efficiency, no different from the day I’d first arrived.
“Yes sir!” The guard saluted.
I turned back to Balin. “I can’t believe you went full Super Saiyan!”
“Sayin’ what?”
“No, I…. um. I can’t believe you turned into a real life knight in shining armour!”
“Me neither.” Balin was actually moping. “I know how you feel about yer thing now Pete. I wanted somethin' that would make me a better carpenter fer Annie. Now I’ve got a bunch of fightin’ stuff that’s no good fer anyone.”
“Och, but Baaaaalin.” Sam nudged Balin. “Annie was expectin’ some kinda convict. Now she’s got a heroic knight to sweep her off ‘er feet. Imagine what her daddy will say, eh?”
Balin’s face actually turned beet red. “Errrrr…”
“Annie, my love!” Sam swept Wreck off her feet, and she squeaked. “I, the shinin' golden knight of Minnova, have come to court ya! I shall slay a hundred monsters in yer name if you so desire!”
Sam hit the floor with a *thwack*.
“Well Balin, what are you goin' to do?” I asked. “You were amazing out there, even the guards said so. Could you become an adventurer in the dungeon?” I couldn’t imagine it myself. The thought of going toe to toe with a bunch of giant monsters again left me with a cold sweat. I was probably going to have nightmares about this for months.
“I dunno…” Balin mused. “Adventurers can make a lotta gold, but it’s dangerous work.”
“Ye’ll be a hero from the tales.” Sam gasped from where he was curled up on the floor. “Save me from this monster!”
“Rude.” Wreck kicked him for good measure. Balin and I ignored the byplay.
“Am I interrupting?” Copperpot joined us with the guard from before.
“No.” Balin and I said in unison.
“Yes!” Sam wheezed.
“I have to head back to the university, so I need to leave now. Diamond will be staying behind until her work is done.”
“That’s too bad. We’ll miss you, Copperpot.” I held out my hand.
“This isn’t a forever goodbye.” Copperpot smiled jovially. “I will need to stay in touch to discuss your proceeds, and I want to hear more about your ideas for tea and beer.”
“Oh, Gods.” Balin groaned. “Tell me he doesn’t want to add tea to beer.”
“You were there when we discussed this Balin.” I raised an eyebrow.
“Only in body.”
“I wanted to share the news myself.” Copperpot continued. “Based on the experiment, I can unequivocally say that you’ll be receiving enough to end your indentures.”
“Huzzah!” I pumped my fists.
“Congratulations!” Sam cried.
“Yaaay.” Wreck monotoned.
“Here is an invitation card, Pete.” Copperpot handed me a small piece of cardstock. It was similar to a modern-day business card, with a logo and Copperpot’s name done in beautiful calligraphy. His logo was a gear that had flames rising off of it, and the card shimmered slightly when I flipped it over.
“Is this magical? It looks and feels different from regular paper.” This was the first real magical artifact I’d handled here, and it was… anticlimactic. An enchanted business card? Really?
“Indeed, it’s been enchanted with mana that proves it’s the real thing.” Copperpot nodded. “Helps my security keep out anyone that doesn’t have an appointment.”
“Aw, I’ll need an appointment?”
“Heh, I’ll make sure to let them know to expect a crazy dwarf.”
“Hey!”
Copperpot looked at his watch. “It’s time for me to go. So long everyone, and congratulations on your imminent release. Balin, Pete.” He nodded at the two of us and made his way out the door.
“We did it Balin!”
“That we did.”
We smiled at each other for a long while. It had been a painful and arduous journey, but we were finally going to be free. I was finally going to see the wider world and experience the rest of my new life. Balin and I would head to Annie’s brewery, he’d get a fiancé and I’d get tools. I could see from Balin’s eyes that he was dreaming about the future too.
“Ahem.” A brusque cough broke our reverie.
“Yes?” I turned and looked at the guard, who had remained behind after Copperpot left. He had on his full set of steel plate armor, and the only thing I could make out were some glinting black eyes and a bushy black beard coming out from under his helmet.
“Grim’s orders. I’m yer guard fer a while. Name’s Brock” He shrugged apologetically.
“What? Why? Has Pete done somethin?” Sam was on his feet and in between me and Brock in an instant. “I protest, he’s been tha picture of a good and lawful dwarf!”
“No, it’s not that.” Brock brushed Sam aside like he was a child and looked me in the eye.
“The dwarf named Tim was placed under arrest while you were preparin' tha boomdust. Durin' tha chaos of the stoneant attack he managed to escape.”
“What!” Balin and I cried in unison.
“Eh?” Said Sam as he tumbled to the side.
“Rude.”
--
“Tim actually was a [Swindler], then.”
“Aye.” Brock nodded. He and I were walking through the camp back towards my cabin. “Statustician Diamond checked ‘im. He had tha’ [Swindler] title and a milestone called [Lost Reason].”
“That sounds dangerous. Does it make you lose a reason or lose your reason?”
“Dunno. I’m not paid to understand that. I’m paid ta keep you safe right now.”
“Are they sure he’s still in the camp?”
“Aye. Tha manacles keep ya from goin’ too far. They think he might be hidin’ in tha mine, so they’re searchin’ there.” Brock said as we stepped aside to let by some miners carrying a brood guard carcass. The carcass was singed and burned, and ashes fell from it as it bounced on their shoulders.
“I can’t believe we killed those.” I shuddered, remembering the moment the brood guard’s monstrous head had burst into our dive tunnel and showered us with venom.
“We kill bigger stuff in tha dungeon all the time!” The guard clapped me on the shoulder. “Besides, I heard ya threw yerself into a soldier ant’s mouth ta save that gnome lass! Good on ya!”
“Thanks.” My mind grew a bit clouded at the mention of Lillyweather. She was the worst injured, and was holed up in Doc Opal’s cabin. Every once in a while, we could hear screaming and weeping coming from it. Healer Bastion had been called for, but there had been a massive wave of monsters from the dungeon, and he’d been tied up for hours. I said a small prayer to the Gods, even Barck, hoping she’d make it through.
I took the lead and we walked in silence for a while, Brock about half a pace behind me; it was incredibly distracting. I tried to ignore him, but someone in full plate armor walking right behind you is not a quiet or subtle thing. I finally broke and did a stutter-step back to come abreast with him.
“I… Honestly, I kind of thought of Tim as a friend up until earlier today. It’s a lot to parse that he’s some kind of mind-manipulating, netherspawned, backstabbing, [Swindler].” I admitted.
“That’s not uncommon.” He nodded. “[Swindlers] make friends first then hit ya with their Blessin’s and Titles. They’re good at makin’ people trust em.”
“Confidence artists.” I scowled at the thought. I’d hoped that the straightlaced dwarven society would be free from such people, but I’d recently learned my lesson about monoliths. It was hard, but I could see Tim doing something like this. “I did feel Tim’s behaviour had been a bit too heel face turn, but I really wanted to believe I’d won him over.”
“What’s that?”
“Which?”
“Confidence artist, and ‘heel face turn’”
“A confidence artist is someone that’s good at gettin' people to trust them. They earn your confidence through kindness, trickery, or simply exploiting yer greed. After you trust them fully, then they take you for all you’re worth.”
“Sounds familiar.” The guard nodded. “They like ta go after the young or the elderly.”
“Yeah, it can get bad. What kind of things have you seen?”
“A common one is ta send a letter pretendin to be a grandkid. Askin fer a spot o’ money cause’ yer in trouble.”
“That or pretending to need someone to sell something valuable for a commission?”
“That’s another one, yeah. You have some guard experience!”
“No, just movie… moving around a lot gave me plenty of exposure to that kind of thing.”
“I can see that. What about tha other one? Is it a wrestlin’ move? Like ya stick yer foot in his face and knock ‘im over?”
“Close! A heel face turn is a villain that suddenly decides to become a good guy for no real reason. It came from wrestling, actually!” The best example from Earth would be the Grinch.
“Oh! Like when Murder Machine decided ta split with tha Wreckin Crew and joined up with Kid Crusader 'cause he fell in love wi’ a floffle?”
“Uh…. Sure?” While I didn’t understand anything he’d said, the WWE lover in me understood every word. “Murder Machine with tha steel chair?”
“Yeah!” We high fived, and then Brock remembered he was on duty and got back to looking serious. After a roundabout walk, we arrived at my cabin without any incident and I went to open the door. I stopped just as my fingers touched the knob. My room would be the stupidest place to hide, but …
“Is this where I say ‘thank you for your hard work, Brock, you can go now’?” I pointed at my eyes and then at the door.
“Sounds ‘bout right,” Brock raised his voice as he nodded and pulled out an axe, “yer safe in yer own room of course.”
“Of course.” I nodded and stepped to the side. “I imagine Tim must be hiding somewhere in the tunnels.”
“Probably. Whisperer Gemma is searchin’ em right now with tha rest o’ tha guards. I’ll be waitin’ round outside. Have a good sleep.” Brock proclaimed as he lined up with the door.
“I’ll see you around!” If this was all for nothing, we were going to look like a couple of idiots. Well, like I always said, ‘better idiot than dead’.
I never said that.
“[Charge]!” Brock smashed forward in a blur, his axe cleaving the door in half as he burst through the doorway. There was a scream and a smash, followed by the sounds of grunting and swearing.
I peeked inside. My bed was turned up against the opposite wall, and pieces of the door were scattered through the room. Brock was lying on the ground, and beneath him, locked in an arm bar and tapping one hand on the floor, was Tim.
That sonnuvabitch.
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