All The Skills - Book 4 Chapter 7: A New Mission

Following the ghostly green arrow that hovered over the card anchor, Arthur and Brixaby headed to the east.

As they got closer to the wall, the arrow’s direction shifted to the north. Their target was moving.

Frowning, Arthur bent as low as he could over Brixaby’s neck without tipping over the side, scanning the ground for movement. The city officials had cut a road along the outside of the wall and trimmed the vegetation back all the way out to the forest nearly a quarter mile out. That made it easy to spot a line of four horsemen riding along it. The card anchor pointed right toward them.

Brixaby saw them as well and flew in their direction, but the horses the men rode began to shy. Unlike beasts near the hive, they hadn’t been desensitized to the sight of dragons.

“Pull up, Brix,” Arthur said. “Then come around and land a little further down the road.”

Brixaby grumbled. “Stupid animals. Have you ever tasted horsemeat? Feh. Now if those men were riding stags…”

His complaining didn’t keep him from preforming a tight turn mid-air and coming in for a perfect landing a hundred yards in front of the approaching group. The horses were still unhappy and refused their rider’s attempts to make them approach, but at least none had bolted.

The riders didn’t look happy, either. The Undersheriff in charge wasn’t Domingo. He was a portly man with one of those wide-brimmed hats that was so popular among the people here. An odd ball of light glimmered just above his right shoulder. Arthur was certain it was some kind of card power.

The man glanced at his fellows — one of whom gave a shrug — then he dismounted his snorting horse and approached Arthur and Brixaby on foot.

As a show of good will, Arthur dismounted as well.

The undersheriff had a slightly goggle-eyed look as he glanced from Arthur to Brixaby and back again. “Well, I suppose the rumors ‘bout a dragon rider in the city are true.”

“Don’t tell me you called us over to verify rumors,” Arthur said.

That seemed to snap the man out of a little of his shock. “No, no of course not.”

“Good,” Brixaby said. “Because I would have been most displeased if I could not fight scourgelings today.”

The man’s eyes widened more when Brixaby spoke. But then, to his credit, he shook his head and focused on Arthur. “I’m Undersheriff Lopez. We’ve had reports of scourgelings hitting caravan trains out in the dead lands and I was told you could help.”

Arthur frowned. “Scourgelings don’t erupt out of the dead lands.”

The dead lands were so thoroughly desiccated by ancient scourgeling attacks that nothing grew there. Not moss of lichen, or even more scourgelings. It was one of the reasons why Arthur had not seen a scourgeling eruption until he had gotten well away from his kingdom’s borderlands.

That was the great paradox of scourgelings — they killed all life down to the building blocks that plants needed in the soil. But they also needed that same life to spawn more of them.

Lopez nodded. “No, they spawn out of our side and then follow the smell of fresh meat back along the roads.” His face twisted into a grimace. “Unfortunately, we don’t get the reports of attacks until the event’s well over. Word comes in from others who come across the remains of the caravan. We’ve had several hit just this week.”

So, this wasn’t an immediate emergency, but it was a serious situation.

Arthur and Brixaby exchanged a look, then Arthur turned back to Lopez. “Where is this road?”

The undersheriff blew out a breath in relief. “You’re taking the assignment?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Well…” He rubbed his chin in thought and then shook his head. “I suppose it’s different for you seeing as you can just fly your beast out and back.” He either ignored or didn’t see Brixaby flashing his teeth at him for calling him a beast. Lopez went on. “Usually adventuring groups want something a bit more solid before they agree to go out. I can’t even tell you how far along the road you’ll have to go. Here.” He reached up to that odd ball of light that hovered over his right shoulder and then tapped it.

Immediately, the image of a map appeared in front of them.

Arthur’s Counterfeit siphon ability immediately took note of the spell.

New spell obtained: Malleable Map

Time remaining: 59 minutes, 59 seconds

This was a Rare-leveled spell. It suddenly made more sense why an uncertain man like Lopez had been placed as an undersheriff.

At a glance, the image seemed to be an overhead illustration of the eastern part of the city and the walls. Lopez stuck his hand into the illusion and with a widening of his fingers, the map expanded. Now it showed the full city and a larger part of the surrounding forest.

Lopez flicked his hand to the east and the map shifted yet again to show more forest, and then a hatched-in area that was labeled “Scourge Country”.

Through that led several straight lines which arrowed out in different directions. They looked a little like spokes on a wheel.

Lopez pointed to the thickest of the lines.

“This is the main interstate.”

“Interstate?” Arthur repeated. He did have a good grasp on the language, but some phrases still threw him.

“Yes, from one city-state to the next. It’s the most direct path out to Larado, which most of the traders use. Most of our inbound traffic comes in through here. You’ll know you’ve found it when you see the green flags.”

Arthur nodded.

Lopez looked at him for a moment as if he were chewing on his next words. Then he adjusted the belt on his pants, nodded to himself, and said, “You’re new here, and I’m sure you’ve already been read the standard lecture, but I’ll remind you not to harvest any scourgelings on your own. Once they’re slain, come back here and report. My men will ride out and do the official harvest. Then you’ll get paid. Don’t get smart and do it yourself.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“We would never dream of doing such a thing,” Brixaby said probably in a way that was meant to sound authentic, but made Arthur wince.

“We know our duty,” Arthur said.

“Safe travels, then.” Lopez tipped his hat to him.

Arthur had a moment of fierce glee as he felt eyes on him while he remounted his own dragon. The moment he was settled, Brixaby took off, again, vertically in the air. He knew even without the whoops from Lopez’s men below, that they made quite the sight.

Brixaby turned toward the east.

***

This side of the city was opposite to where they had originally come in, so the land was subtly different. The trees were thinner, more spread out, and broken by grassy hills dotted with beautiful blue flowers.

It made spotting signs of movement from the air easy.

“Out there… Are those scourgelings?” Arthur asked, leaning forward with narrowed eyes.

He knew his vision was better than most thanks to his Master of Body Enhancement card, especially at night. But for extra-long distances, his human eyes could not compete with that of a dragon. He couldn’t tell if the tiny dots moving across a far hill were dear or the enemy.

“Bison,” Brixaby said. “Four of them.”

Arthur frowned. Something about that bothered him, though he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

They were flying in the general direction of the wild bison, so Arthur put it out of his mind.

Instead, he accessed the Malleable Map spell for himself. He still had use of it for another 45 minutes.

Too bad I don’t have some sort of Master of Magic card, he thought. Maybe that’s what I need from the dark heart.

It was certainly something that he wanted. But needed? That was a distinct difference.

A small ball of light appeared in front of him, which then flattened out into a map. However, it was different than Lopez’s. This map had blank spots on all sides except for the direction they had come. Even then, the depiction of the city was full of holes.

“Looks like it’s restricted to places we’ve already visited,” Arthur said with a sigh, then, on impulse, mimed closing the map with both hands.

Sure enough, the display of light collapsed back into a bright yellow ball that was dismissed when he stopped concentrating on it.

“Perhaps you should take up a cartography skill,” Brixaby said.

Arthur looked at his dragon, wondering if he was being sarcastic or not. But Brixaby flew on without additional comment.

“Dannill did say that the dark heart is different every time it’s delved,” Arthur muttered. “Creating a map as we go along might be helpful.”

“Yes, I don’t mind if we get lost as long as there are plenty of scourgelings to harvest, but I would like to get out again with all my rewards.” Despite his dark words, Brixaby sounded positively gleeful about the delve.

Repressing a shudder at the thought of being lost underground forever, Arthur patted his neck, then realized he’d lost track of the bison — but only because they were nearly on top of them.

“Brix, dive down a little. I want to take a good look at those.”

There was definitely something off about the bison. Arthur only identified what it was once they got close enough to see the way that they plodded along, and, most importantly, how the grass moved behind them. As if they were dragging something.

The brown, woolly fur, obscured the harnesses still buckled onto them. But at least two of the bison were trailing the remains of leather straps, and some of the wooden yoke.

These weren’t wild animals. They had once been attached to a wagon, and Arthur suspected he knew what had happened to set them free.

These people didn’t have dragon hives to protect them. In fact, due to the way that they cultivated the dark heart, they had to know that incidents like this were inevitable. And they did it anyway.

But another part recognized that he was looking at an opportunity.

“Brixaby, how much room do you have in your Personal Space?”

Brixaby looked down at the bison eagerly. “I have more room in my stomach.”

“It would be a waste to eat them. Somebody lost these bison, and would be interested in getting them back – I mean, if that person isn’t already dead,” he added, with a wince. “In any case, those are trained to haul carts. We can sell them, or give Dannill to sell.”

Brixaby brightened. “Yes, very good. I have room in my Personal Space for all of them.”

“Then let’s make a quick.” Arthur tightened his legs and took hold of one of the back facing ridges.

Bison weren’t sentient beings, and therefore didn’t need to give permission before being stored.

Unfortunately, Brixaby was the only one quick enough to do what needed to be done.

Brixaby dived down low, and spotting him, three of the bison started to lumber away. One, the largest and possibly the bull, turned around to face him with its massive head lowered.

Brixaby’s lips pulled away from his teeth in a snarling grin. He lowered even further in a direct challenge, skimming so low over the meadow that his belly touched the top of the grass.

Just when it seemed the two were going to crash head on, Brixaby beat his two top wings which gave him just enough lift to sail over the top of animal. As he did, reached down and touched a claw to the broad back.

A moment later, the bison disappeared.

With an evil chuckle, Brixaby turned to the retreating bison. It didn’t take long to catch up. They were too heavy footed to evade him. Another three taps — one right after the other — and all disappeared.

But as the last bison vanished, Brixaby staggered in air so suddenly that Arthur was thrown forward, and nearly lost his grip altogether. Somehow, he managed to cling on, though one of the ridges had knocked painfully into his chest.

“Brixaby?” he gasped. “You okay?”

“I’m… Fine.” He coughed and shook his head, and quickly gained momentum again.

“What happened?” Arthur asked, and when the dragon didn’t answer, “Brixaby?”

“The bison are heavy,” he said shortly.

“So? You’ve hidden an entire other dragon in there. Digger wasn’t small.”

There was another short silence before Brixaby signed, lowering his head in exasperated defeat. “I may not have had much success hunting yesterday,” he muttered. “Deer look stupid, but they are fast and they know the forest better than I do. I don’t know how Joy managed to hunt so well back at Free Mesa. But,” he added, “While I traveled, I came across something else. Ruins.”

Arthur got a bad feeling. “You mean, you found some of the attacked carts?”

Why hadn’t Brixaby told him before?

“No, ruins. Buildings and odd… objects. I think they were for farming, because they were metal.” Even while rapidly beating his wings, Brixaby managed to shrug. “They were old, and most have rusted, but I took the choicest bits. There was nobody around to stop me.

Arthur had become an expert at reading between the lines when it came to Brixaby.

“You filled up your storage space with metal parts, didn’t you? Anything I can use?”

Brixaby shook his head. “Not right now, but perhaps later. I haven’t had time to practice with my Smith Weaponry card, and perhaps I will make you some chain mail or something more interesting that will better fit your Metal Shot card.” He turned his head and looked up at Arthur. “I had intended to keep it a surprise. We should be well armed when we descend to the dark heart.”

“Well, consider me surprised.” Arthur patted his dragon’s neck, pleased.

Despite the fact his surprise was ruined, Brixaby preened.

They flew on, and soon they started to see signs of the deadened land up ahead.