We will be one
Within, within
Surrender the self
To him, to him
The darkest night
Will end, will end
The cage of our flesh
Will break, will break
But we will live
Forever and ever.
In him
Prayer and refrain from the “Lamentations: Spirit of the Great One”, written by Priest Beyn.
The mercenary city of Gliax was anything but efficient. Positioned on the southern shores of the golden mountain, it was a prosperous trading hub, a raucous tourist destination and the seat of power for the Guild in the fourth stratum.
Rillik stepped through the portal and into the gate district, momentarily disoriented. The handlers grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him out of the way as the next group came through behind him. He stumbled a little, caught himself, and then walked down the ramp and into the plaza, Drake, Elly and Lacos following along behind him.
It didn’t take long for the four of them to find their way to the Guild registry where they confirmed their applications, found their way to the dock and boarded the vessel after paying their fees.
The ship was a hive of activity. Various crews getting their gear stowed away, catching up with old friends, alongside the usual brainless flexing that went on whenever more than one merc could be found in the same place.
Lacos, Elly and Drake were wide-eyed, looking at the hubbub and soaking in the atmosphere.
“You look like tourists,” Rillik said over his shoulder. “Just because it’s your first time on a big expedition, that doesn’t mean you need to announce it to the world. At least try to act like you belong here.”
All three winced, chastened at his words, before they straightened, attempting to affect an air of nonchalance. It was so patently transparent that he couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, drawing more eyes to their group.
It didn’t take long for them to find their bunks and pack away their belongings. While he had them together, Rillik decided to impart some advice.
“This is the first time you’ve been on a big expedition, and I think this is going to be even bigger than we expected. The Path must have posted this job in quite a few cities; mercs are pouring into Gliax from all over the place, and I hear a second ship is scheduled to leave not even an hour after this one.”
The three younger mercenaries nodded, trying to contain their excitement, and he smiled. Their attitude was infectious, but he’d been here too many times to get swept up in the mood.
“Don’t let it get to your head. There’s going to be powerful, experienced mercs out there boasting, daring each other, making bets and generally acting like pirates. Don’t be fooled. When the time comes, they’ll forget all of that nonsense and get down to business. Mercs who aren’t careful don’t live long.”
He eyed each of his crew in turn. Drake was listening, but looked impatient, as if he’d heard this a hundred times before, which he had, to be fair. Elly was nodding, hanging on his every word as she always did, while Lacos’ scaled face was as unreadable as always.
Rillik reached out and poked the young man in the chest.
“Don’t forget why we came here. Kill monsters, square away a tidy profit, and get out. More mercs on the job is good for us, we can operate on the fringes and avoid attention. I won’t accept anyone risking the crew because they couldn’t be patient.”
Drake rubbed at the spot he’d been poked and scowled.
“I know, I know. I’m excited, all right? Give me a break.”
Rillik grunted.
“Last thing before I let you go. It’s a guarantee that some big shot is going to try and recruit crews and lone morons into an attempt to kill the mythic. When they approach you, look them in the eye and very politely tell them to jump overboard. I don’t care if they promise you world-diamond underpants as a down payment, it’s not happening. As long as I’m in charge of this crew, we aren’t signing up to suicide missions. Clear?”
“Crystal,” they chorused.
“Get the hell out of here,” he told them. “Go and get drunk.”
“What about you, Rillik?” Lacos asked as the other two scrambled out the door, ready to get a taste of adventure. “You aren’t coming?”
The older mercenary waved him off as he kicked off his boots and pulled on his jacket.
“Hell no. I’m too old for that rubbish. You go and enjoy yourself, I’m going to grab a nap.”
Lacos looked at him oddly.
“Rillik, you aren’t even forty.”
“May as well be a hundred and ten in the merc world. Keep an eye on the others, Lacos. I’d like all of you to reach my age at least.”
The enchanted ship sped through the ocean at a ridiculous pace. With so many mercs paying, the Guild had sprung for a decent transport and they made excellent time.
After a day, they could see the branches of the Mother Tree scraping the horizon. After two, the colossal monster dominated their view.
More than a few mercenaries stared at the offending plant with naked greed in their eyes. A few made a half-hearted attempt to recruit others for a run at the tree, but there were no takers. If the Legion could chop the thing down and still not kill it, there was no way in hell a shipful of mercs stood a chance. Instead, they turned their eyes to the purpose of their mission.
Staying as far from the tree as possible, the ship glided through the water, maintaining a healthy distance from the target. At this distance, the mountain looked inoffensive, certainly not as if a mythic monster lay sleeping within.
As predicted, the earlier joviality was gone, crews gathered around their leaders who exuded the easy confidence that came with high Levels and experience.
Rillik pulled his crude sensing array from his pack and slapped it a few times until it blinked into life.
He blinked. Drake whistled. Elly goggled.
The entire mountain was alive with monsters.
