In the Shadow of Mountains - a litRPG adventure

I am Al-Sazine.

I stand against the most powerful men and women on this continent every day of my life. I stand against empires and kingdoms, warlords and clan-leaders, merchant houses and slave-states. All seek my death and fear my presence with equal fervour.

And the strangest thing about it is that not a one of them cares about me in the slightest. My ego has long since perished, deprived of nourishment years ago. When I journey through new lands, the powerful take note, but not of me. It is what I herald that they fear, what they worry I bring to their shores.

They are mistaken, for I bring nothing. I come seeking that which they have nurtured. Through their actions or negligence, a seed of resentment and potential has grown within their lands, and the World Tree takes notice. I have been accused of sheltering such seeds, helping with their growth and guiding their development, but it is not so.

The fact that I stand here still, alive despite the power of my enemies, should be enough to confirm the truth of my words. My death would be easy for many of them, but they dare not carry out such a sentence themselves.

For the Al-Sazine are heralds, but we are also caretakers. We prune the stunted seeds, cut the branches that cannot develop.

The powerful do not know whether we arrive to eliminate a problem or to exacerbate one, and so they do not interfere. Once we have acted, they quickly find out the purpose of our presence, but it is always retrospective. Even we do not know why we travel so, and what we plan to do when we arrive.

Our fraternity is one of drifters. Constant motion and weak ties. The reverence we hold for the Great Tree is stronger than any earthly bond, and so we roam these lands and seek to balance the scales. The World Tree sends it gifts far and wide, and we follow in their wake.

The heralds of change, the bringers of nothing.

- Defence of Rakise Stillwater, standing trial for treason and regicide following the collapse of the Desolate Empire’s capital city circa .98. Infamous for being the first public trial of a member of the Al-Sazine in the 4th following the 3rd Cleansing

We spent nearly a bell going round in circles, coming up with one scenario after another and concocting plans. Eventually though, we came to the sad conclusion that the best course of action was to stay locked up in our cushy inn and wait for Vera or Jorge to get back. Not much we could do, and changing location would only make us more likely to be noticed, not less.

It was unlikely we would face any reprisals for our actions, and I managed to reassure Nathlan enough that we settled into an easy afternoon of studying, training and talking, after the initial discussion.

Jorge returned later that same night, giving us a brief update on Vera’s frustrations trying to entertain a ‘poncy’ councillor. He had apparently been a very experienced potter though, and so while his eccentricities seemed perfectly design to get under her skin, she had agreed to stay for a few days to learn from one another.

Jorge found the whole thing hilarious and took great joy in telling us about their *mandatory* tour of his hat collection, and we managed to put aside our worries for a meal as we shared in the joy of Vera’s frustration.

He was not quite so happy to hear of our escapade and subsequent issue, however. I had never found Jorge to be particularly intimidating. A sometimes-stern teacher, of course. A wily and dangerous opponent on the sparring field, for sure. But the way his brows closed together and his gaze seemed to pierce directly through me at that moment left me feeling like an ant starring into the eyes of a mantis.

It was gone in a blink, and he then interrogated us for another bell or so, teasing out all our suspicions and making us replay the events in detail.

The good news was that we were unlikely to face repercussions. The bad news was that we were banned from leaving the inn without his express permission. So, nothing had really changed, considering we had planned to impose the same ban on ourselves. Having someone tell you ‘you can’t leave’ and deciding not to go out yourself were two different things though, and I chafed at the restriction, even if I agreed with it intellectually.

Jorge did agree to help with the designs of my upgraded shield and spear though, and with Nathlan to help out with the technical diagrams, and Jorge to consult on the viability of the weapons, and particularly the skill progression I was aiming for, I had a sheaf of notes to be delivered to Sally the Tinkerer by the end of the second day.

Not two days later I received the reply from Sally that she had a working prototype and was working on the final design. I felt the fire of curiosity burning a hole in my belly, but managed to fight off that fire with reason. When the follow up note came the day after, confirming the completion of the project and an invoice for the work, I felt the fire burn away reason with nary a thought.

I waited until Nathlan headed downstairs, knowing he would be gone for at least two bells.

He’d been taking lunch with Kal the waiter who had plied him with cheese on our first night here, and things were beginning to heat up, as far as I could tell from his evasive answers to my annoying questions. He was a reserved man, and I took pride in my ability to needle him just enough to cause mild embarrassment, but not enough to cross any lines into outright shame or rebuke.

If my plan was even close to reality, I would be back in my room before he even returned.

Nathlan had already agreed to loan me the necessary tarrots, so I grabbed the bundle of marked sticks off the side and snuck outside. The window made no sound whatsoever as I swung the elaborately grown wooden window frame from the wall. I then slipped out with the dexterity of an acrobat and dropped soundlessly the 2 meters to the floor.

Grinning with the thrill of doing something I shouldn’t, I scarpered along the busy streets, doing my utmost to look inconspicuous as I threaded my way through crowds of bustling shoppers and down streets carved from ancient stone.

I spared no thought for the beautiful architecture as I skirted the edge of open-air markets, the cries of sellers hawking their wares falling on deaf ears. I also spared no thought for the shadow that detached itself from an alcove as I passed by, slinking soundlessly in my wake. My ears were likewise deaf to the occasional chirping of a small bird that seemed to follow me in my journey, despite the lack of any such creatures this far below the surface.

I arrived at Sally’s workshop in good time and was nearly giddy as I pushed open the door to the chime of the needlessly elaborate bell. Who puts a clockwork mechanism on a doorbell? What would that even do?

The thoughts were snatched from my mind though as Sally’s high-pitched voice started babbling at me in a rapid cadence, reminding me of a duck’s feet slapping the floor as it runs.

“About bleedin’ time ya made it back here, ya little bastard! All mornin’ I’ve been waitin’ for a knock at my door, and in strolls you looking lost as a lamb! Is that why they call ya that?”

Rather than be offended by the barrage, I grinned, recognising the excitement on her face as a mirror to my own. She shuffled over to a bench in the corner, shucking a heavy leather quilt to reveal my two new weapons. She did so with a flourish, clearly pleased with her work, but I couldn’t appreciate her jubilant smile as my eyes were drawn instead to the artifacts before me.

A heavy brass shield rested firmly on the table, circular and lightly concave enough to bleed momentum from a deflected strike rather than stop it outright. Six lines radiated outwards from the boss in the centre, splitting the shield into equal segments.

It looked smooth, polished to a shine and strong despite its relatively thin edge. Speaking of the edge, it was tapered slightly but not sharp enough to cut. When driven with force it would surely do damage, but more in the way of a steel bar to the face breaking a nose than a sword slicing through bone. This also enabled it to be braced against armour or the environment without issue and wouldn’t harm a weapon braced against its rim in turn.

All in all, from the front it looked like a fairly unremarkable, if well-made shield.

I picked it up from the table and slipped my left arm into the straps, synching it tight. The real magic of this weapon could be seen from behind the rim. Small, intricate gearing could be seen running beneath the rim inside the shield, made from the same brass-coloured metal. There was no button or trigger with which to activate the contraptions, as I had been briefed by Sally in her invoice, but I still found myself a little sceptical it would work. Nathlan had been over the process of claiming magical artefacts the night prior with me, but it was one thing to know and another entirely to experience.

Waiting for a nod from Sally to show I had permission to do so, she just rolled her eyes and waved me on. I focused on my core, entering that strange meditative state of being where I visualised my soul, feeling the mana filling my core – incorporeal potential just waiting to make its mark on the physical world.

I lingered for a few moments, simply enjoying the sensation of feeling magic – Magic! – flow through me, before I reached out. Reaching past my core, towards the celestial tapestries that hung above, the constellations dim and inactive, frozen in time without mana to feed their frenetic whirling. Beyond even the path-bound aura skill I had that dominated the ‘sky’ of my soul, looming over all my skills like a judge.

My senses failed me as I pushed further, unable to see past the dimly lit patterns of my skills. There was something there, just on the edge of my soul-space. I could feel an aberration, a smudge in the darkness.

Straining, I searched as if combing the floor of a muddy pond. A few endless moments passed this way before I latched onto something. Further examination of the feeling yielded a dim light, rapidly brightening as I focused on it.

Recalling the instruction from Nathlan, I spun a small trickle of mana from my core, guiding it towards the flickering light past the edge of my soul-space, and finally making contact. I wrapped it around the light, pulling it back towards my soul-space.

There was more resistance than I’d anticipated, the seemingly empty void outside of my soul tugging at the artifact as I brought it past the frozen lights and into my soul-space proper, and felt the connection snap into place abruptly. An awareness of the artefact branded itself into my soul, and I knew intimately how to activate the shield’s functions.

I couldn’t resist demonstrating anyway, and one look at Sally’s face told me she’d likely kill me if I left without showing off what she had spent the last few days working on.

Grinning, I fed another trickle of mana into the weapon, willing the gears in the top-most segment into action. There was a brief delay caused by my relatively poor mana-control, but as soon as the mana entered the connection within my soul, the shield responded.

A whisper of metal sliding against metal and the rim of the shield retracted into itself, leaving a gap at the top of the shield, almost like a crenelation in a tower. I stepped aside and lowered my arm, imagining my opponent’s weapon snared against the now-jagged edge of my shield and pulled out of line. Another thought and brief flex of mana and the shield returned to its previous, unbroken circular shape.

“So…what d’ya think?” Sally said with a grin. She could see the eagerness in my eyes, and it was mirrored by her own pride in her work. “I couldn’t get anythin’ except the edges ta retract or change shape without weakenin’ the metal too much I’m afraid, but I think the speed and smoothness of the change at the edges is impressive enough ta make up for it. I doubt many opponents o’ yours will be able to see it coming.”

I nodded, activating the shield a few more times as I stepped through some quick forms. My mind was already busy planning certain combinations of strikes to leave certain counters open that I could then exploit. A weapon like this would open new patterns to my style and I couldn’t wait to try them out.

“Havin’ only the outer edge retractin’ also means ya can activate any o’ tha segments together. Hells, you could retract the whol fuckin’ thing all at once, and that might make up for some o’ weakness in materials. Smaller shield but twice as thick, right?”

I nodded in understanding, eager to return to my friends and plan some sparring and training in to familiarise myself with the new potential.

“Try the spear, try the spear!” The tiny woman barked, her excitement making me laugh as I reached for the spear.

There was less engineering that had gone into this weapon, at least visible on the surface. A plain shaft of the ‘living wood’ so prevalent in the stone city of Colchet, its swirls and whorls tracing a chaotic pattern up the haft, before disappearing under a metal coat of hammered copper covering the end. The artificial light reflected off the copper patina and I traced it’s curve as my gaze moved up to the spearhead itself.

A double-edged blade, clearly inspired by the lanceolate shape of the leaves of the Ereshal, but strictly shaped for function over form. It was around a foot long, thicker and wider at the base and tapering to a slim point the colour of burnished bronze. There were no obvious seams along the metal of the blade that I could see upon close examination, and I raised an eyebrow at Sally in question.

“Aye, I tried what ya suggested but after messin’ about for far too long at the drawin’ bench, I couldn’t figure out a way ta do it without riskin’ the blade crumpling when tryin’ to pierce somethin’ dense. Don’t despair though, young lad! There’s a reason ya’ come to a professional like ma’ self. I figured the extra reach could come from the wood jus’ as easy as the blade, right? So go on, claim it and give it a whirl!”

I shrugged, trusting to her ingenuity if nothing else, and went through the same process as before to claim the spear. It was a little easier this time, whether because the artifact was simpler or because I was more experienced, I couldn’t be sure. Either way, less than 30 breaths had passed by the time I had my second claimed artifact in hand, and fed a sliver of mana to the weapon.

The copper housing clunked, and an extra half a foot of metal emerged from the casing, extending the reach of the weapon substantially. My eyebrows rose at the speed of it.

Sally cackled with joy. “Exactly hun! Now jus’ remember that the extra reach only extends from the top o’ the spear, not the bottom. Not sure if that’s an issue really but worth keeping in mind.”

I ignored the obvious point and tried not to take the patronisation to heart. Instead, I focused on the brilliance of the weapon itself. It would be a standard upgrade to my current spear anyway based on the materials and craftsmanship, but the spring-loaded mechanism at the top of the haft would add an extra surprise for somebody facing me for the first time.

Like with the shield, most of the advantage would come from fighting people, given animals and monsters tended to fight aggressively and without much regard for distance management.

My style of fighting was similar – overwhelm my opponents with aggression and physicality. I had high enough endurance to outlast most people at my current level range, but if they could survive my initial onslaught for more than a few moments, they were likely much more skilled given my advantage in attributes. In that case, I’d need to keep some tricks up my sleeve to disrupt anyone who could feel out my distance and timing. An extra foot of reach suddenly appearing would surprise most, and the ability to grapple and snare weapons with my shield would likewise increase my survival odds against a superior foe.

I grinned down at Sally, clapping her on the shoulder after putting down my commissions and reaching into my pocket for the payment. She tried some token haggling, but I simply handed over the exact amount mentioned in the invoice, and she accepted with only some minor grumbling.

I knew it was more an act than anything since she offered to bind my spear and shield properly, as per the guards’ rules, and gave me some oil for the weapons, as well as a more specific mixture for the mechanisms in both artifacts. A flurry of maintenance instructions that left my head spinning were recorded on a small scroll and tucked into my waistband, and I was off out the door with a bulging bag over one shoulder and a cheery wave behind me.

I barely managed to look around before I took off back to the inn, humming to myself happily as I let my thoughts prance around inside my head, simulating new katas and movements I could link together for a more cohesive fighting style that made the most of my new artifacts.

So it was with a smile that I hit the floor, my skull cracked from the force of the blow I had not seen coming. Blood barely had a chance to well up from the wound before my body was picked from the street like an apple from a basket.

Vague sensations flittered through my mind, but delirious as I was, I noticed none of it, my consciousness having retreated as I was carried over a shoulder and spirited away through city streets I wouldn’t have recognised even had my eyes been working.