Dungeon Mauling Read online

  I sat in the chair directly in front of his desk, exactly where I’d been earlier that day. I looked over at the empty chair, and I couldn’t help thinking about Cleeve. He looked over at me with a wan smile, then dropped in his chair with a sigh. He pulled open a drawer and retrieved a crystal decanter from within, setting it on the desk and slipping two crystal glasses next to it. Neither of us spoke while he poured two glasses of the murky maroon liquid out for us.

  "To good friends," he said. “May they live in our hearts forever."

  I nodded, not exactly knowing what to say. But apparently it was enough for Léon, because he smiled again, and drank it down. The liquor burned going down my throat. Like real burning. I felt like my throat was legit on fire, and I couldn't help but cough heartily. Something I noticed Léon was doing as well. Then he let out a small belch of actual smoke.

  "What is this?" I asked through clenched teeth.

  "Chodd."

  "Which is?"

  “Distilled fermented wyrm's blood," he replied.

  My stomach roiled. I swallowed once, firmly, reminding my stomach that it wasn’t the time to throw up.

  "You know, then," I said.

  "I knew the time was coming," Léon replied. "Benedict Coggeshall was a man of purpose and war, but not a man of travel. I knew his visit here, with such urgency, meant something larger was afoot.”

  "Did you know what was going on with him and Emperor?"

  “I only know Benedict must have aided the Emperor in some phenomenal manner to be granted such a title."

  "So you don't know the full story.”

  "Know what?”

  "If Benedict Coggeshall is dead—“

  "Which he is."

  “—then the Emperor is also dead."

  Total silence.

  "I have had no word of that," Léon finally said.

  "I don't know how fast you can communicate with the capital, but trust me, the Emperor has passed on. Cleeve—”

  "Cleeve?"

  "Sorry, Benedict traveled under an assumed name: Cleeve. And while I was supposed to keep this secret, I suppose that Cleeve, I mean Benedict, now that he’s dead, it’s not exactly important to keep things secret any longer. The whole reason why Benedict got made duke was because of an assassination attempt. Benedict was in the tent with the Emperor when the assassin struck, and I guess there was some magic required to keep the Emperor alive. Obviously, it worked because you know that the Emperor lived, but it tied the two together. So if one died, the other would as well.”

  Léon pushed back from the desk and stalked over to a panel in the wall. He fiddled with things over there, and, after a moment, he pulled forth the sword I'd sworn on. The one that had, theoretically, transformed me into Royalty. But as Léon held the sword up, it was immediately clear that whatever magic had powered the sword in the morning was gone. It was just a normal blade in his hands.

  "Gods," Léon said softly. He dropped the sword. It clanged on the ground bouncing over once, the metal’s ring hanging in the air. I looked up to see his eyes meeting mine.

  "I assume this is going to complicate things," I said.

  “That is the best case scenario,” he replied with a shake of his head. "With the Emperor dying now, the throne sits empty with no clear line of succession. The princess is currently missing, so we lack even her worthless hide to toss up there for a stopgap. Likely, my uncle will finally get his lifetime dream to seize the throne."

  I pulled out the tabard from my belt, and tossed it over to the Viceroy.

  He caught it in midair and shook it out.

  “Quick to choose a side, eh?" he asked.

  "I've made no such choice, Léon," I said. "That thing was given to me by Count Daubernoun today. But look around: you'll notice blue is the new hotness in the Imperial House right now."

  "Valamir knew."

  “As far as Benedict believed, Valamir was aiming to have him killed. I think Valamir planned for a different timeline is all."

  Léon nodded. "I am sure he would have preferred his brother's permission to take the throne."

  "What's the whole process with taking power in the Empire? I mean, can't he just seize the throne? If the princess is missing, who's to stop him?"

  “First, power in the Empire and being Emperor are not the same thing. Often not the same thing, in fact. It just so happens that our last Emperor, the one we lost today, was a strong and smart ruler. Assuming the throne is, ultimately, a two-step process. A candidate must first present him or herself before the Senate. There, they speak on behalf of themselves, presenting their lineage and accomplishments. Then the Senate votes."

  "So this is an electoral system?"

  “Yes, though with some caveats. The Senate as a whole has 401 votes. The higher your title, the more votes you may cast. The Emperor holds 200 votes. Every other member of the Senate must agree to overrule the Emperor, and as far as our history is written, there have been two Overrules, both of which had enough historical consequence that they are still remembered today. Whomever the Emperor chooses as his heir has always been viewed as the Imperial vote upon the Emperor’s death. But when there is a sudden death and the Emperor has no set heir, those 200 votes are not cast. Then it becomes a political battle, likely to tear the Empire apart before it comes back together. If it comes back together. At least, that is what has happened in the past. This is certainly the first time I will experience the shitshow.”

  “So what's the second step?"

  "I know the least about that. Most everyone knows the least about it, as the secret is shared only among the Emperor and the Keepers of the Blood. The candidate is put to the test — what that test is, no one knows. Those who fail the test do not emerge from the testing chambers. So, when someone does pass the test, whatever that might be, that someone is given the throne. After that, coronation, celebration, and usually, fertilization to make sure there’s not another political war for succession. And thus, the Empire continues on."

  “And you think there’s going to be some problems with the voting?"

  “Too many cannot imagine it will be anything but horrific for the Empire. The princess is the next in line, technically, and was the Emperor's choice until she abdicated said choice. But it is unclear if the Emperor accepted her abdication. Either way, it matters little as she still maintains her title, Crown Princess. Which gives her quite a few votes in the Senate. Valamir has as many as she. But then there are a host of others, all the way down to the elected citizen, who has but one vote. And you, Lord Coggeshall, as an Imperial Duke, you will hold votes in the Senate."

  “But wait — I’m a new noble. How do I get votes? Won’t that unbalance everything?”

  “As new titles are given out, new votes are added to the Emperor’s total. He receives an additional vote for every vote you receive. I believe the official word is that the emperor is gaining the land as you do, so that is why he deserves more votes.”

  “Okay,” I said, thinking, “with all this happening, what happens to you?"

  “Ah,” he smiled wistfully, “the bureaucracy of the Empire keeps me in place until such time as a new Emperor comes along, and then, likely, they will decide upon a new Viceroy. Which, to be honest, will likely be me. Provided, of course, I keep my head down. Hence why what I imagine you are here to ask will provide us no end of problems.”

  “I came for two reasons, really. Biggest was to get someone out of jail."

  "The someone who slew Lord Duhamel?"

  "Slew? Maybe. Lord? No. I took his lordship. I'm count of whatever it was he was now, so, I mean…Whatever, semantics."

  "Are you now? Collecting titles at quite the clip, I do say."

  "I'd prefer to get rid of them if I could."

  "Now now, no need to make foolish statements like that."

  “Dude, I am not cut out for this shit. I’d be more than happy to pawn it off on someone else.”

  “Precisely why you are so perfect for such a job.”
<
br />   “Fucking Benedict said the same damn thing.”

  “He was a very smart man. For an elf,” Léon added with a smile. He looked around the room, poured another snifter full of Chodd, and then held the bottle up to me as an offer.

  I shook my head. “Preferably never again,” I said.

  He shrugged, then said, “To each their own.”

  Léon drained the glass in one go, shook his head, and let the smoke out of his mouth. Then he closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

  I let him sit there for a moment, figuring he needed the time to be on his own.

  “Do you have a moment?” he asked.

  “I guess, yeah.”

  “You have no other evening plans?”

  “I mean—”

  He stood up quickly, wavering just a little before righting himself by putting one hand firmly on the desk, and started walking.

  “Follow,” he said.

  He led me to the wall, where he pushed a hidden button. A hidden door popped open. He walked on through, bringing us to a drawing room of sorts. His private office. Much like everywhere in the Imperial House, it was larger than it needed to be, and remarkably posh. But unlike anywhere else I’d seen in the House, there were windows. Windows looking out onto a beautiful garden lit with delicate glass lanterns. It was a tranquil oasis in the midst of this big city. Verdant, beautiful, huge leaves and big flowers. It was almost tropical, and different than any vegetation I’d seen in Osterstadt. Or, for that matter, in my trek across the Glatonese Empire.

  Léon opened the glass door, gesturing for me to go first.

  It was hot inside, and I noticed a glass roof above us. A greenhouse.

  Léon shut the door behind him. “Do you mind if I just,” he started to say, moving past me to get to the center, where there was a tall green metal column covered in vegetation. A small knob hid amongst the vines, and with a little twist, water fell from the ceiling, filling several pots and bird baths. All of a sudden white noise filled the room and I felt the stress start to melt off my shoulders. It was a beautiful and welcome tranquility, immediately broken by Léon speaking.

  “We have, at the outside, two minutes here before a guard will come and check on us,” Léon said, “so listen to me carefully. You are here asking for my help, and I am going to respond by asking for yours. I cannot intercede directly, not anymore, but I think I may be able to help you help your friend.”

  “What do you need from me?” I asked.

  “I will need you to shield me.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You are a duke now, an imperial duke. Right now, you answer to no one. You are beholden only to yourself. I, on the other hand, exist on a tenuous thread, one that reaches back into a time when there was someone to give authority unto me. I fear war is destined for the Empire, from within and without. With no one to wear the crown, the continued existence of the very Empire must be in doubt.”

  “Wait—”

  “Allow me to finish. Even now, there are those who will be trying to get closer so they might listen to what we are saying, and this will likely be the last time you are so easily overlooked by those playing court games. From now on, assume you are being spied upon.”

  “Lovely—”

  “In fact, I will be sending someone I trust with you, and I will tell you now, they will spy upon you.”

  “Not exactly spying if I know they are reporting back to you.”

  “I prefer honesty, at least with you.”

  “Okay, so a person is coming with me. Are they going to work for me?”

  “She had better. She will follow your orders, fight for you, and do whatever you ask of her.”

  “Hey man, works for me.”

  He nodded at me. “You agree to help me?”

  “I do.”

  A slight smile came over his face. “Then we best be quick about all of this. Your man is inside the prison, on the lowest of the levels. Midday tomorrow, he will either be thrown into the oubliette or he shall be executed, depending on the whims of a man hundreds of miles to the south. A man who has no love for the Thingmen of his brother.”

  You have found a quest:

  Saving a friend I

  Nikolai, the man who agreed to be your mentor, has been imprisoned, and will likely be executed upon the morrow. You must free him from prison.

  Reward for success: Increased standing with Nikolai, and a guide through the courtly games and the Empire of Glaton.

  Penalty for failure (or refusal): [unknown]

  Yes/No

  Obviously I had to accept it. I needed to get Nikolai out, and not just because he was a friend. He was also the only person who knew the Empire and could provide advice I could trust.

  “Okay, well, what are the messaging systems here? Maybe there’s a way to block Valamir’s message for the, you know, execution or whatever.”

  “It is most common for governmental agencies and nobles to engage magic, paying guild members for that privilege. So it will likely be a direct line from Valamir to the head of the jail. And there is no way I know of to block that form of magic. Your man’s fate rests upon Valamir’s whim.”

  “I don’t suppose Valamir is known for being merciful and kind.”

  “More like power-mad and petty. And anything concerning his brother will likely be of particular interest to Valamir. I would guess his Thingmen are either scattering to the winds or being slaughtered by Valamir’s forces.”

  “Wait a minute—”

  “I urge you to focus. You only have hours to break in and out of the prison before it is too late, if it is not already.”

  “Nikolai should be able to hold his own.”

  “The prisons of Osterstadt are notorious. Long have horror stories of the Osterstadt Prison leaked out. You must remember this city has long been by itself against the world, and houses some of the wealthiest families in the Empire. There is no shortage of skilled men and women at the city’s disposal. And no shortage of coin to spend.”

  “Okay, noted. No time to prepare going up against high-leveled bad asses. Sounds like failure is likely.”

  “I am afraid that is the case. Would you consider leaving your friend to the fates?”

  “No.”

  “But you agree to shield me? To be my ally and assist me?”

  “I do.”

  “My agent will meet you outside the Imperial House, at the back. She will lead you and your companions to a hotel where I am an investor. The hotel will give you my suite, and you will be safe there. Or, rather, your men will be safe while you throw your life away with your foolish errand. That is, if you are still planning on going.”

  “I have to, Léon. Just as I would go to bat for you now that we’re friends and all.”

  He gave me a bit of a smile. “Then I will tell you what I know.”

  “Hit me with it.”

  “I must be quick,” Léon said, giving a furtive look around before leaning in close. “The prison is very secure. There is but a single entrance, heavily guarded. It may seem like there are cells above the ground, as the building is quite tall. It is, however, a ruse. The building is primarily a barracks for the city guard.”

  “No allies there?”

  “Absolutely not. There is quite the animosity between the Legion and the City Guard. I would advise you to refrain from mentioning any connection you have to the Legion. It will only complicate things—”

  Light spilled through the windows as someone walked into Léon’s drawing room.

  “Bah,” Léon said, looking over his shoulder at the guard coming towards the greenhouse. “We are out of time. Go to The Murdered Bishop. It is a tavern in the worst parts of town. There is a man there who owes me a favor.”

  Léon pressed something hard and metallic into my hand. Round, like a coin.

  “Ask for Philomon,” he continued. “He is your only chance to get into the prison.”

  I looked down. It was a coin.

  “What’s
this?” I asked.

  “A favor. You give this to Philomon, he will be forced to provide you assistance, and I believe he can get you into the prison.”

  “What about getting out?”

  “That will be on you.”

  The door opened, and a guard stepped into the greenhouse.

  “Ah,” Léon said to the guard, “Jasper, is it?”

  “Yes, Viceroy,” Jasper replied.

  “Do me a courtesy, Jasper, and please escort Duke Coggeshall through the back way out of the house.”

  “Yes Viceroy,” Jasper said, saluting.

  “Thank you for bringing me the news about your father,” Léon said.

  “Of course, Viceroy,” I replied.

  Léon gave me a clap on the shoulder, and then ushered me towards the guard.

  Jasper led me through lots of hallways and past bedrooms and barracks until he pointed to a nondescript door in a nondescript wall.

  “The exit, my lord,” Jasper said.

  “Thank you,” I replied, and stepped out into the streets of Osterstadt.

  Chapter Four

  A figure in full plate armor stood across the narrow alleyway, looming without being overly big. The armor was intense. The knight wore a heavy cloak with a hood hanging back, but it was artfully arranged so the arms and armor were fully on view. The head turned, and the figure lifted up the mask on the full helm. I was a little taken aback seeing a very cute female face looking back at me. A wisp of blonde hair peaked out.

  “You waitin’ for me?” I asked.

  “Are you Montana Coggeshall?” she replied.

  “I am.”

  “Then I wait for you.”

  “You’re the, what, envoy from—”

  “I know not what he told you, but Léon is my brother. He has tasked me with serving you, my lord.” She bowed her head to me.

  I smiled and shot my identification spell her way.

  Human

  Level 14 Knight

  “Knight,” I said. “Impressive.”