Darkwater

3. Coldlock-1

Chapter 3

ColdlockFelt he’d find me here,” I considered the

words he spoke carefully. Not taking my eyes off the Tinker I began

to run magical words through my brain. I felt the mystical energy

begin to grow inside me; the tattoo on my arm set in motion a

tingling sensation. The runes began to take on a faint glow

underneath my clothes. I quickly produced a slice of pure silver

from the folds of my robes. If violence was this gnome’s intent, I

would go to battle with a furious bolt of electricity. It did occur

to me the bolt of lightning that I would release would be my

greatest and the only offensive weapon. After that, I had nothing

more than my fists to defend myself. It was now that I decided,

should I survive this meeting, to visit a weaponsmith.

I wasn’t sure what to do next; I kept the

arcane energy inside my heart and mind for the moment.

My fireside guest made no moves to violence;

I didn’t see a weapon on him, although that could have easily

hidden among the many buckles, pouches, and bags. He just sat there

calm and collected as if he’d been here the whole time just waiting

for me to return.

I didn’t have as official sounding a title

as my surprise visitor, but I tried my best to sound authoritative.

“I’m Lacey Summers Darkwater of Overwatch.”

“Well met, Lady Darkwater of Overwatch.”

With a gesture, he motioned me to sit by the fire. “Please sit,

warm yourself, I mean you no ill.”

If there was tension in the air, my

companion made no sign of it. However, I was tense to the point I

thought I would snap a muscle. I have never been comfortable around

people, and a stranger in Darkwood that I have never seen before,

appearing almost out of thin air, makes me feel a sensation that is

beyond edgy.

I’d never been in a real battle before, at

least not where lives were at stake. At the Academy we had duels,

but they were nonlethal combat just to practice focusing your

energies. And now I was thinking about real combat. I am not a fan

of people, whether they’re human, gnome or whatever, but I also

don’t like the idea of hurting someone. My gut is anxious, nervous

and afraid all rolled into one. I just have to wait and see what

his plans are.

While still gnawing on the last of my

rations he spoke gently, “I’m sorry, young lass that I gave you

such a startle but I am no threat. You have no need of your

magic.”

My mind quickly went from combat to

thinking. “How does he know I’m even preparing magic? My arms are

covered in robes and a long cloak. It's not possible to see the

tattoo glowing on my arm. This gnome knows a lot about me and I

have no doubt we never met.”

“How is it you come to this campfire and

what did you mean you ‘felt’ you would find me here?”

“Aye, Lady Darkwater, that is the question.

I’m headed south to Wilde Lake to catch a boat ride into the

mountains, headed home to Tinker town.” Penn continued “I had a

dream I would meet a woman on the North Road and I’d stay with her,

or rather you,” the old dwarf chuckled.

“Wilde Lake, my hometown of Overwatch is on

Wilde Lake.” I’m still on edge about this rendezvous, but my

curiosity at this meeting has me enthralled. I suppose Garvin was

right, dreams do foretell the future. My dream said I would meet a

gnome and a gnome had a dream he would meet me. That’s too odd to

be a chance.

I swallowed hard and choked out “I had a

dream last night that I would meet a dwarf or gnome on this road,

but that’s all I remember of the dream.”

“Well, Lady Darkwater, it seems we’re

supposed to be traveling companions.” Just then it began to rain as

another caravan wagon went screaming down the North Road.

“I’d like to suggest, Lady Darkwater, that

we move further off the road under the cover of trees. The pine

trees over there will give us shelter and we’ll stay drier under

the limbs.” The Tinker said as he stood, “I can set up a small tent

and I’ll bring the fire over. If we stay out here, the rain will

soak us by nightfall.”

Penn, the Tinker, had a soothing way about

him, a calm and reassuring presence. I took to him right away and

my nervousness and anxiety faded quickly. “I’ve been hesitant to

get near the woods.”

“And yet you exit the forest, carting a

satchel.” With a smile on his face, he added, “Foraging for wild

mushrooms?”

I had forgotten about the bag which I

removed from the corpse, “No, I… there was… a sound… I…”

“No worries, Lady Darkwater, the stories of

Darkwood are loftier than they are true.” He was gathering his

items and headed towards the tree line. I grabbed a few things and

followed him at what I felt was a reasonable distance.

“Sit yourself here under these Black-Pine

trees. The heavy branches prevent most of the rain getting to us.

I’ll get the rest of the gear and then bring the fire over.”

I huddled under the tree, shaking, already

my cloak soaked clean through. The rain began to come down even

harder as I watched the old man work with care and purpose. Now I

don’t know much about gnomes and how they age, but by the look of

him and his skin, I would guess he would be around the age of

someone’s grandfather. Yet he moves with such speed and grace that,

from seeing him in action, you’d say he’s probably only in his

teenage years.

I have known this gnome less than an hour,

but I felt like we’ve been traveling together my whole life.

Despite the torrent of raindrops, he took great care when packing

and carried everything as if they were the King’s jewels. Although

I did learn to not trust people I felt I could trust him. I hope I

am not mistaken.

Less than a half hour later we had a

comfortable little camp. Penn had erected a tarpaulin made of a

leather blanket that he carried in his backpack. Even though the

rain came down in sheets, he had made a roaring fire that would

make a woodcutter jealous and pulled out of his pouches a morsel

much more desirable than bitter-cake. He said it’s Brined Fennel

& Herring, a dish that originated from the town of Bomdoru, a

Halfling community on the east side of the Windless Highlands.

“So why are you in Darkwood, Tinker

Penn?”

“Please, just call me Penn.” The Tinker

stretched out before the fire. “I’m in Darkwood by accident. I was

working and living in Kinghold and decided a holiday was in order.

The barge I took from Kinghold’s docks had planned on getting me

all the way to Wilde Lake. The inexperience of the barge captain

grounded the boat on the Hoarfrost near where the Twin Rivers meet

it, so I set out on foot.”

“I knew it to be only ten leagues or so to

Wilde Lake. I figured I would walk there or get a ride from a

caravan driver. Then I’d be able to take a ferry across the lake

and downriver.”

The story seemed likely. The Hoarfrost River

had a tendency to freeze up early in the year and stopping at the

Twin Rivers would put him at the edge of Darkwood and on the North

Road. I made mental notes of the details he presented about his

travel. Everything had a ring of truth about it. I could kick

myself for not learning a truth spell before leaving the

Academy.

“What is that contraption that looks like a

crossbow you have sitting next to you?”

“Milady, that’s my own invention.” A grin

crossed Penn’s face. “It is a crossbow and so much more. I call it

my big omnipotent weapon or B.O.W. for short.” He let out a

chuckle.

“As you can see it’s a crossbow that will

fire two bolts at the same time. Lets me do twice as much damage in

a single shot. But that’s not the best feature. The crossbow

reloads itself.” Then Penn pushed down on one lever, then pulled

back on another and the crossbow reloaded with two bolts and was

ready to fire.

“It can do much more; sometime I’ll show you

its wonderful abilities. But I’d like to know what’s in that

satchel?” Penn said, eyeing the bag I had found in the forest. “It

has a royal seal on the front; you don’t look like a courier for a

court.”

Fascinated by my companion I had once again

forgotten about the satchel. “No, I’m not a courier. I followed

this noise into Darkwood and found this bag next to a dead

person.”

“Followed a noise into Darkwood, and robbed

a corpse, eh?” Penn was stroking his mustache. “That’s either brave

or foolhardy, depending on what stories you believe.”

“Do you recognize the seal on the front?” I

asked.

“No, milady, I do not.” Penn ran his fingers

over the symbol. “It’s not Elvish, or Dwarven. That much is for

sure. Toss it over, milady and I’ll search through its

contents.”

Penn pulled open the satchel and began

rifling through its contents. It seems Penn didn’t have any

compulsions about digging through a dead person’s bag. I felt sick

and sad about going through someone’s possessions. But again, they

aren’t going to be able to use any of the items in the bag.

Penn was shoving items in the bag from side

to side. “Well, let’s see what we got here.”

“This looks to me like it used to be paper.

I’d say the mice chewed through that. An empty inkwell and quill.

Something that looks like it was food at some point. Three gold

crowns. Those will come in handy and a few personal trinkets.

Humph,” Penn paused to study a scroll case marked with the same

seal as that on the satchel.

“Now this could prove to be something

interesting,” Penn said with a slight smile. “Lady Darkwater, you

found the bag. I believe you should be the one to open the case.”

He tossed the container to me.

“Maybe we shouldn’t open this, it’s sealed

and that is clearly someone’s royal crest. Could be something

official, or could be something we don’t want to know.” I was not

too keen on prying into other people’s business.

Penn looked dejected. “The corpse that had

this satchel has no use for it now. If it is official documents,

then they need to go to the rightful owner. It’s our responsibility

to deliver it.” My companion has a sense of moral duty; Tinkers are

full of surprises.

For me, ethics never entered the picture. I

did what I thought was best for me. But since my partner here has

clearly more experienced than I, I agreed with his reasoning.

The wax on the seal had lost most of its

potential so the case was simple to open. I slid out the parchments

and took a glance at its contents. I read aloud the correspondence

to Penn:

To Sir Azorius Tibost

General of the Knights of the Rose

Dearest Sir,

I hope this post finds you in good health and high

spirits. I have a matter most pressing that deals directly with the

Knights of the Rose.

No correspondence can be safe to tell you about this

issue. Please come with all haste to Castle Vallion.

Yours,

A.V.

“It’s dated the 23rd of Anu, 977 A.D.”

(After the Devastation)

“That was two moons ago,” Penn stated. “If

it concerns the Knights of the Rose you can bet it’s important.

We’re headed south anyway. After I drop you off in Overwatch I’ll

take the correspondence to the paladins and explain to them how we

came about the letter.”

Penn’s immediate and overwhelming decision

to accept this adventure took me aback. It seems like a simple task

and yet I wasn’t sure I wanted to help him.

When I was a child, I dreamed and fantasized

about adventures that I would have, chasing down magical artifacts,

subverting wars, fighting monsters. Yet sitting here on the North

Road in the middle of Darkwood with my new found friend I wasn’t so

sure I wanted any of them now. Fear is what it is. I think all

people no matter what race have the same fear, fear of the

unknown.

“Not sure that’s the best idea,” I said as

gently as I could. “Of course you’re free to do what you feel is

right, but I need some time to think about what I should do.”