Libriohexer (Wolfman Warlock Book 2) - Chapter Three

“Greetings, whelps,” Yurij BrightBlood snarled, opting to use the human tongue instead of speaking wolfman. Although Sam spoke the language of the People almost fluently, the rest of his pack members weren’t quite so far along. And although Bill knew every word, he couldn’t properly speak at all since so much of the communication had to do with body language. A fact that Bill felt personally slighted by. Discrimination against the bodiless, he said. The fact that Yurij was one of the few wolfmen in the encampment who spoke fluent English was probably the reason why he’d been appointed as their handler.

The fact that he still despised Sam and his friends was unfortunate, but it came with the territory. Nothing was given among the wolfmen. Everything was earned. That included personal respect.

“Shaman BrightBlood brings dire news,” Velkan said, his words more guttural, and less practiced. He was working to learn English, but it was a slow process.

“Indeed,” the Shaman agreed, baring his fangs to show the seriousness of the conversation. “The People are losing ground in our war against the humans. Your team is doing well, but if the Wolfman are to survive the conflict to come, we need more weapons and we need more allies. The greatest benefit the humans have is numbers. We are the stronger race—of this there can be no doubt—but they are more plentiful. Even a mighty wolf may be felled by a pack of foxes. Although your skirmishes with the Rabid Inquisitors has been fruitful, imagine what you could accomplish with ten times your numbers. The O’Baba granted you a charter to form a Guild, yet still there are but five of you—”

“I count!” Bill grumbled. “Why does everyone forget about me?”

Yurij flicked his ears in annoyance but inclined his head a fraction of an inch in apology. The O’Baba was definitely on team Bill—he was older than dirt and that alone gave him some serious brownie points. The fact that he was also a rebel and nemesis to the Mage’s College gave him some extra street cred, too.

“Six,” Yurji amended.

“Seven,” Velkan grunted, crossing his arms. “They are my pack by choice, even if not by blood.”

Yurij looked like he was about to climb up a wall. “Seven. But even seven is far from enough. It is time for your pack to recruit humans”—he emphasized the word while shooting a nasty look at Velkan—“allies, as you told the O’Baba you would. In my eyes you are failing to uphold your end of the bargain. You must do more. Playing games with the Rabid Inquisitors is no way to win a war. You need to build an army. But no one will flock to your banner without a proper Guild headquarters.” He paused, sneering at their modest yurt. “A hastily pitched tent is hardly fitting for a Guild. A true Guild Leader would know such things.”

That was a shot at Dizzy, plain as the snout on Yurji’s face.

“Well you haven’t exactly made that easy for us, you know,” Dizzy said, standing to her feet, hands balling into fists—letting him know in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t be pushed around. “No one will rent us space and we haven’t been approved to build a treehouse like the rest of the wolfmen.”

“You are a Guild,” Yurji snarled, “not a family. Would a simple tree dwelling accommodate a group of fifty? It is ridiculous to think so. You have not learned enough of our ways. Guilds such as your do not operate in settlements such as this. Velkan should have taught you this by now. If you want to be a proper Guild that keeps the respect of the People, you must secure a Den to operate out of.”

“Den, is that an acronym for something?” Arrow asked.

“No, it is a den,” the shaman said coolly. “Human Guilds often operate out of Inns or Taverns, but as they get bigger they typically expand and take over whole towns. But the People are different. We are creatures of the wild, beasts of the field and forest. Our clans have no need to build permanent settlements such as that. We are a monstrous race, and as such we can clear and claim dungeons as our own. Convert them into dwelling places or Guild strongholds.”

“Wait,” Kai said, nearly bouncing on his toes in excitement. “Like, dude. Are you saying we get to design our own dungeon?”

Velkan answered before the Shaman could respond. “In a way, yes. The Dungeon will be hostile, but if we can capture the various Dungeon junctions, the dungeon will then serve our pack. We will be able to fill it with traps and wards. Even minions, depending on the type of Den we choose to establish.”

“Velkan has the right of it,” Yurji agreed. “You must find such a Den soon.” He paused, lifting his snout to taste the air. “We brake camp in the morning. All of Narvik, will be gone by the setting sun tomorrow.”

“Wait, what?” Sam stammered, feeling the world reel around him. “This is a city. Well, maybe not a city, but certainly a town. You can’t just move it.”

“It is the way of our People,” Yurji said unconcerned with Sam’s protest. “In our tongue, Narvik means Restless. We are animals, not meant to sit and grow fat as you humans do. We range. We move. Besides, we believe the location of Narvik has been compromised. These Rabid Inquisitors have captured valuable information about the location of this sight. After what we experienced with Octavius Igenitor, we cannot risk losing the O’Baba again. Better to migrate. We will move this location to a secluded area deep within our territory. In the very heart of the Forest of Chlorophyll Chaos—a place humans fear to tread.”

“You, however, will not be welcome,” Yurji said flatly, crossing his arms. “Already we have coddled you too much, and for this failing you have my sincerest apology. You and your Guild may freely visit New Narvik for trade or training, but you will be cast out after sunset. It is time you become a Wolf Pack in truth and not just in name. You have two choices. One, crawl back to your human dwellings, tails tucked between your legs. Or, two, search out an occupied dungeon inside of the ranging territory of New Narvik and conquer it through claw and fang. Claim it as a den for the glory of your pack and the greater glory of the People. This is the way.”

Quest alert! A Den to Call your Own:

Your Wolfman handler, Yurji BrightBlood has informed you in no uncertain terms that the Wolfman Outpost of Narvik is moving, and that you’re not welcome in New Narvik. You can go home, but you can’t stay here! Instead, you need to find an occupied dungeon to crash and convert into a cozy little nook just for you and yours. It may seem a little harsh, but a growing pack does need room to expand. Yurji has specified that the dungeon must be within Ranging Distance of New Narvik—which is classified as the maximum distance that a wolfman can run from the boundary of the outpost and return before sunset.

Accomplishing this task isn’t going to be a walk in the park—more like a stroll through a Dungeon, ha!—so if you can do it, you’ll finally earn the begrudging respect of the wolfman Shaman Yurji BrightBlood. Capturing new territory will also increase your reputation with the People and will have the added benefit that your Guild, the Wolf Pack, will be added to the official leader board. Reward: +1,000 Reputation with The People. Inclusion on the official Leader Board. Exp: 5,000. Accept / Decline

The quest was a no brainer and Sam accepted without a second thought.

“Okay,” Dizzy said slowly, “so we need to capture a dungeon. That seems doable—but do you have a particular dungeon in mind? Or can you point us in the right direction, maybe?”

Yurji grimaced, ears laying back flat against his head. “You are the Pack Leader now, DizzySparrow. I shouldn’t need to coddle you further or lead you by the snout like some young whelp. And if you do need such instruction, then perhaps you are no Pack Leader at all.” He eyed Sam, a weighing look in his gaze. “Perhaps it would be best to step aside and let others guide the hunt. Here is the location the O’Baba has decided on for our new outpost. Remember it well, for by this time tomorrow Narvick as you know it will be gone.” He snorted and turned, swishing into the night without another word.

“Man, that guy has a chip on his shoulder,” Arrow said, watching Yurji’s silhouette disappear into the night.

“Yeah, like totally bad energy, you know?” Kai said. “He needs to chill. Maybe mediate and get centered. Carrying around all that anger is no good.”

“It is the way of our People,” Velkan explained, not realizing the remark was rhetorical. “To be part of Pack, it is no small thing, understand? To trust outsiders with our most treasured secrets, it takes a tremendous bond of faith. You have convinced the O’Baba, but Yurji is the second in command. The Wolf-Eye, we call such a leader. It is his job to be distrustful. To weed out the unworthy and cull dead weight.”

“What if he’s right?” Dizzy said, plopping down in her chair, deflating a little. “What if I am dead weight?” She ran a grease-stained hand through frizzy red hair. “I mean, sometimes even I think Sam should be in charge of the Guild. He’s the only one here with a wolfman title. He’s the one who gained the O’Baba’s trust. He’s the one that arranged the raid against the College. I mean, without him, the four of us”—she swept a hand toward Kai, Sphinx, and Arrow—“would probably still be kicking around the Square Dog Inn, desperately trying to get picked up by a better Guild. Yurji’s right. We’re in a tent. We should be doing more and that’s on me.”

“Gosh, hon,” Sphinx said in her midwestern twang. She scooted her chair closer and gave Dizzy’s arm an appreciative squeeze. “Don’t go thinking like that. We all know how hard you’re working, and we all”—she shot a withering glare at Bill, just in case he felt like being sassy—“think you’re doing a great job.” She pulled free a dagger, which she twirled with a deadly flourish. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, you’re doing a capital job,” Finn agreed, nodding vigorously. “I grew up crushed under the weight of expectations. Expectations that I would be some great Mage. That I would lead my family back to riches and glory and honor. I’m just glad you’re running the show and not me.” He took a deep breath, savoring the crisp evening air. “I’ve never felt freer than I do now. And I owe it all to you.” He flashed her his most winsome grin.

“Look Diz,” Sam said, “I know this is hard and the truth is, I probably could run the Guild right now. But like Yurji said, we only have seven members, counting Velkan, who isn’t human, and Bill who is a book.”

“That is the most offensive thing you’ve ever said,” Bill grumbled.

Sam forged on, ignoring Bill’s protests. “The question is, what about when the Guild really starts picking up steam? What happens when we have twenty members? Or fifty? Or a hundred? Maybe I could run the show, but just managing that many people is going to be a full time job. Then there’s politics, there’s maintenance and supply management. Supplying teams for quests and dealing with all the egos. I don’t want to do that stuff—not any of it. Plus, you’re good at it. You’ve run fifty member raid parties before and you’ve crushed it every time. Believe in yourself, because I do. And so does everyone else here.”

“Thank you,” she said, standing. “All of you. Sounds like tomorrow is going to be a rough one. I’m going to call it a night—start fresh in the morning with a clear head. I suggest you all do the same.”

She waved goodnight then vanished into yurt, the tent flaps curling closed behind her.

Sam finished eating while the fire flickered and danced, heat soaking into his bones. After another few minutes, he excused himself as well and headed into the tent, grabbing his bedroll and dragging it outside, where he wouldn’t disturb the others. After kicking off his boots, Sam crawled into his makeshift sleeping bag—just a padded leather mat with a fur-lined blanket above. Full dark had set, a crescent moon hanging high overhead, and sleep called out its alluring siren song, but Sam resisted the temptation to close his eyes.

It was going to be an early morning, Dizzy was right about that. But then, everymorning was an early morning with Bill. The book didn’t sleep and as a result, he had a devilish penchant for waking Sam up before first light.

Still, Sam had no intention of going to sleep. Not yet. He wasn’t ready to choose a Specialization or a Secondary Profession, but for better or worse, he wasready to cross the Intelligence threshold. He pulled up his character sheet, reading over his current stats:

Name: Sam_K ‘Experimental Forger’

Class: Bibliomancer

Profession 1: Bookbinder

Profession 2: Unassigned

Level: 10 Exp: 55,146 Exp; to next level: 10,854

Hit Points: 113/140

Mana: 501/526

Mana Regen: 13.68/sec

Stamina: 154/154

Characteristic: Raw score (Modifier)

Strength: 20 (15+5 gear bonus) (1.20)

Dexterity: 34 (29+5 gear bonus) (1.34)

Constitution: 19 (1.19)

Intelligence: 49 (1.49)

Wisdom: 48 (1.48)

Charisma: 21 (16+5 gear bonus) (1.21)

Perception: 20 (1.20)

Luck: 14 (1.4)

Karmic Luck: +1

<You ready to do this?> Bill sent inside his head.

<Nope. But I don’t think I’m ever going to be ready. Now’s as good a time as any.>

<That’s the spirit. See you on the other side, Legs. And remember, you can do this.>

Sam grimaced and added his one unspent characteristic point to Intelligence, pushing him over the threshold.

Warning! You have reached fifty points in intelligence! I would sit down if I were you, because we are about to upgrade your mind and it can get… Well, a little brutal. And because you have both Mana Manipulation and Coalescence, you will have a chance to increase these skills while unconscious! Hope you have nowhere to be or anything urgent going on, because this can take a little while. Body modification in process in three… two… one…