The Itemancer 2 Read online

  Still, the important jobs got done slowly but surely. After a month had passed, and the important buildings were built; we were able to devote more time to leisure tasks. This included the creation of our first pub. A loud cheer rocked the crowd as I opened the doors for the first time, bowing with exaggerated ostentation. I then jumped out of the way as twenty-two people, and three curious item spirits stampeded through the doorway. Small scuffles broke out between people trying to get through the door at the same time. It was perhaps the only occasion in history where the bar brawl happened before anyone got drunk. I shook my head but decided to stay out of it as Dee slugged a hulking bruiser of a man so hard between the eyes that he fainted on the spot. Naturally, Amy and Izzy had bypassed the crowd somehow, and were drinking together as if the fracas outside wasn’t even going on.

  When I decided I’d had enough, I channeled a fireworks spell, replete with a loud boom that set everyone’s eardrums ringing. “And that’s enough of that everyone. The next person I see fighting is banned from the bar for a week.”

  There was some generalized grumbling, but everyone filed inside without incident while I began questioning the wisdom of giving this crowd access to alcohol. Once the drinking began in earnest, the mood changed from resentful to cheerful. For once, I was seeing my subjects in a happy state of mind; as opposed to their normal sullenness. I smiled broadly, and draped my arm around Izzy as I finally relaxed, chugging the beer we had made from a shipment of hops included in the initial supply cache. It was just like Andrit to give us the supplies to make beer rather than the beer itself. I found myself not caring about that, as I drank the first draft I had tasted in nearly half a year.

  Izzy stiffened for a moment when I placed my arm around her, but then relaxed into me wordlessly. Neither of us had talked about, or followed up on the kiss we had shared over two months prior, but it hadn’t been forgotten. We had simply been too busy, and if I was perfectly honest with myself, we were probably both a bit shy. Taking it slow seemed like the best course to me, and neither of us was in any rush. My old master, Jorn, had once told me during a drunken soliloquy that love was a marathon, not a race. I never found the nerve to ask him why he was a bachelor that night, but the saying stuck with me.

  With my own thoughts drifting toward drunken philosophizing, Izzy’s head went up like a startled cat. She disentangled herself from me quickly, and vanished. I was left alone, wondering if I had done something to offend her, when she reappeared.

  “We’re under attack!” She cried out when she returned.

  Everyone’s good cheer evaporated instantly as people began gathering their wits. I watched as Dee did her best to waken her new bar friend, the giant she had felled earlier, and then carted around like a trophy for most of the night.

  I rushed over to speak with Izzy. “Is it ants?”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s demons. There’s an armed party of over fifty headed this way. From the way they were talking, I think they’re mercenaries of some kind. I’m not sure though, I came back as soon as I confirmed they were hostile.”

  I nodded, and turned to address the room. “Everyone stay put. Me, the women, and the Rockys will defend the Duchy. Make sure they don’t take the beer!” I cried out. I had learned a lot about managing people in the past month, especially these people. I hoped their natural cowardice would win out so the real heavy-hitters could focus on the fight. Naturally, they cheered us out the door. I wasn’t sure whether or not I was happy to be right.

  My stone soldiers, or “the Rockys” as people had taken to calling them, were still hard at work in the fields. I rounded them up, and we marched out to meet our foe. I didn’t like the idea of fighting actual people, so I decided to at least attempt a peaceful dialogue before resorting to violence. Dee had retreated into her sword. I knew from experience that her straightforward, occasionally vicious manner would be bad for negotiations. Likewise, I had asked the Rockys to retreat into their various stones, which were currently being carried in Amy’s pockets. While I wasn’t worried about their temperament, I didn’t want to appear like I was marching an army out to meet them. For her part, Izzy retreated into stealth with plans to flank the enemy in case a fight broke out. This left me and Amy as the faces of our party.

  “Hello there!” I called out.

  They looked at each other in amusement, and one of them raised a strange tube-like device up to his shoulder. I correctly intuited that it was some kind of weapon, and jumped to the side as his finger pulled a lever attached to the bottom. I heard a bang, and felt a jarring impact against my side. I landed, and I could feel that the left side of my stomach was horribly bruised from the force of the blow. If I hadn’t been wearing the partially invulnerable tunic Dee made for me, it may have been a mortal wound. I jumped to my feet.

  “What the… why?” I cried. I had been about to say what the hell, but I was in Hell. It felt wrong somehow to say it while you were actually there.

  “Not dead yet? Let's try again!” The man wielding the tube yelled back as he poured a black powder down the opening. He slumped forward, dead, a moment later. Izzy’s work I had no doubt.

  “I’m the Duke of this land, and a great wizard!” I called. “I can kill any of you that I wish at any time! Leave my lands or face my wrath!”

  There was some muttering among the ranks before someone called back at me. “You can’t call yourself a great wizard! That only works if other people call you that. Otherwise it just sounds pretentious! Also, I know what a knife wound looks like, and you’re full of shit.”

  I deflated as the mercenary company began preparing their weapons. Dee’s avatar erupted into existence, drawing herself from my sheath. Amy waved a hand at me, and I felt the bruise disappear from my stomach, along with the last vestiges of my drunkeness as her other hand tossed the Rockys into the air. They landed with a thud as their avatars materialized slightly off the ground. A shot from one of the strange tube weapons bounced off a Rocky, their avatars apparently keeping the durability from their original form. A “huurrgghh” sound came from among the enemy ranks as Izzy assassinated another mercenary.

  The front ranks entered some kind of military formation and charged, while the back ranks began casting spells. Five of the melee combatants hung back trying to protect the casters from Izzy, but if she had wanted to, I had no doubt Izzy could have picked apart the entire force alone. Any of my primary three could. As it was, she toyed with the guardians, slicing one from stealth, and disappearing. Apparently she had a sadistic streak, but I thought it likely she was working out frustration on them. I had specifically asked her to not do too much. The truth was, I wanted to let my Rockys absorb the bulk of the experience; not to mention pick up some of my own.

  Aside from a couple encounters with the ants, most of my combat experience up till this point had consisted of tossing spells while I hid behind my item spirits. I didn’t mind this exactly; my masculinity wasn’t threatened, but no one wants to be a burden. I needed to gain more personal XP. Something I had done with my ability to invent new item powers had been to create something called “Fleshmancy.” Essentially, it would allow me to upgrade my own stats, and give myself new traits. The trait list was a tad on the small side, but I chalked that up to the fact that I had literally invented the concept a few months ago. There was no one around able to make new traits for it. Regardless, I was more interested in the upgrades to my base stats.Up to this point it had felt like cheating; not to mention the headaches it gave when used, so I had avoided using it. Now that I was responsible for a human colony, and knew there was some kind of prophecy about me destroying the world, I had decided to give up on that notion. There was too much on the line for me to be afraid of power.

  I summoned my holy sword, a spell Amy had given to me, and leapt into battle. Fighting trained soldiers was very different than fighting ants had been. They employed strategy and tactics with their movements, and adapted to my own. Aside from some training by Dee, I had
very little in the way of real experience with the sword. I had a few advantages though. One was that my sword was weightless, and cut through armor like butter. Another was my invincible tunic, which deflected their attacks in exchange for cracked ribs. The mercenaries adjusted, fighting against me more defensively after I gutted the first one.

  The Rockys churned around me, acting as a shield wall. I had increased their number since the initial battle with the ants, not to mention increasing their mana generation enough to sustain their forms indefinitely. Now, I had eight stone soldiers, four on either side, acting to funnel the mercenaries in such a way that I didn’t take on too many at once. Of course that was easier said than done, when the numbers were fifty to eight, but they were essentially invulnerable to the mercenaries weapons. Whenever their lines broke, Dee hopped into place to shore up the defenses, usually killing a demon or two in the process.

  I fought for what felt like hours. Slash, parry, thrust. Feint, low slash, dodge. The second mercenary left himself open with a missed thrust, and I capitalized; bringing my sword up into his ribcage. His animating force left him as I pierced his heart, and he fell to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Another rushed in to take his place, and I activated Izzy’s stealth spell for the briefest moment as I dodged his swing. The moment of confusion literally cost him his head as I spun around to bury my blade in his neck.

  Fighting the ants had been a nightmarish experience; but, despite knowing I was not in real danger here with Amy to resurrect me, I knew this battle would haunt my nightmares for a while. There was something impersonal to killing mindless insects, or angry dragons, whereas these were people. The action was affecting me on a visceral emotional level, rather than the primal terror of fighting monsters.

  Ten mercenaries fell to me before the survivors surrendered. All told, there were fifteen survivors. The rest had fallen to the Rockys, or had been killed by Dee when they tried to breach the shield wall. I noticed two of the rear guards had fallen to Izzy, and I commended her restraint when she popped into existence with a feral look in her eyes. She nodded at me, calmly sheathing her blade with it’s new frozen-on coating of blood. Meanwhile, the Rockys, led by Dee, had corralled the survivors into a group somewhat separated from the battlefield.

  The spokesman who had called me out before, spoke up from among the survivors with a bitter tone. “What do you want from us? The spoils of war are yours of course.” He nodded at the battlefield. I snorted. I didn’t want ill-gotten gains, and doubted they had much I wanted. Besides that strange weapon the first mercenary had wielded.

  “Why did you attack us?” I asked.

  He sighed. “Thought you might ask that. We’re part of the royal expeditionary force from the kingdom of Firenze. We’re here to claim this continent in the name of Louen the Fifth, King of Firenze.”

  I nodded grimly. I had hoped the other continent was too far away for there to be much interaction, but apparently I wouldn’t have any such luck. I looked back at the mercenary.

  “How did you know we were here? I mean, we’re really far from any other settlement. Plus Azeroth is the only person who was there when I was talking with Andrit. No one else should know we exist.”

  “Oh that. Well, our main force has already taken Apocola. You’re too far away for a large campaign to be logistically feasible, so I think they sent us here hoping you weren’t well-established yet. At least, that’s my best guess from what I’ve overheard.”

  I nodded again. “What happened to Azeroth then?”

  “The local ruler? They pumped him for information, and then hung him.” He shrugged. “Sorry, did you know him?”

  I was sad to hear of his demise, but I shook my head. “Not exactly close, but we were allies.”

  “Sorry for your loss then.”

  I sighed, and asked one more question. “Are there other countries coming here?”

  He looked at me like I was stupid. “Of course. Firenze was closest, and heard about the continent being freed up first. I imagine it won’t be long before the other coastal countries start making colonies of their own though.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “That’s… just lovely.”

  I was out of questions, leaving me with the question of what to do with these men. If they simply disappeared, I was sure their masters would keep trying.

  “Alright. What I want you to do is go back to your rulers. Tell them to leave us alone, or else.”

  The demon snorted. “Or else what kid? You think a handful of troops is gonna be any good against an army thousands deep?” He paused, changing his tone as he saw the irritation on my face. “Not saying I won’t do it, but they’re going to laugh me out of the room when I report that a squad of a little over ten people is trying to dictate terms to entire nations.”

  I shrugged. “As long as you deliver the message it’s on them what they do with it. After all, this is hardly all of my troops. I’m a duke after all!” It was a bold-faced lie, but I hoped it would buy extra time if they thought I was hiding an army somewhere.

  The demon nodded, and stood. “Alright kid, I’ll deliver your message, but don’t expect it to matter.”

  I nodded as he and his remaining troops rose, recovering enough supplies from thnother word. Dee began poking through the battlefield spoils, salvaging whatever seemed useful, while I grabbed the strange weapon I had been curious about. Opening the stat window for it, I learned it was called a “gun” which was an acronym for Grundel’s Universal Neutralizer. Amy had accrued a great deal of XP after I left the fight with the ants, and I used some to awaken the item spirit, applying the standard awakening package of skills. It was mostly done out of spur of the moment curiosity, though I had a vague conception that adding a ranged weapon user to my party of spirits might have some value.

  The spirit which eventually emerged once she had sorted through designing her avatar was a woman with long brown hair, pale skin, and brown eyes. She wore a leather tunic that accentuated her bust, serviceable leather pants, and a wide-brimmed leather hat. She tipped her hat at me. “Hello, What do I call you?”

  “Rowan. Did you have a name in mind, or do you want me to name you?”

  She shrugged nonchalantly. “Name me I guess. I don’t really know enough yet to make a good decision.”

  I thought about it for a moment. Maybe something similar to her acronym...

  “How about Gwen?”

  She nodded. “Sounds good to me. I guess that’s my cue to leave then.”

  “Wait what? Where would you go? And why? We have a perfectly good settlement for you to stay at.”

  “I mean, there's a really pretty ball of red over there. I wanted to see if I could find it, and live there.”

  I looked where she was pointing, and was immediately blinded. I hadn’t noticed the sunset directly behind me, and apparently she wasn’t inconvenienced by looking directly at the sun.

  “Hold on let me fix something.”

  I added a general world knowledge trait to the item soul starter pack, and applied it to her. It hadn’t been a problem with the other spirits, but maybe something hadn’t translated well between my previous world, and hell.

  “Oh. Ohhhhhh. Never mind, I think I’ll follow you then.”

  I nodded, and we set out for the settlement.

  Chapter 5

  A week later I stood before Andrit, who had finally deigned to grace us with her presence. I opened my mouth to speak, but she held up her hand.

  “I’m sure you have a litany of petty concerns you wish to regale me with, but I lack the time. The first order of business is that His Imperial Majesty requires you to name your domain. Pick one now, and we will move to the next item on the agenda.”

  I turned to my spirits. I had never been good at thinking up names, as evidenced by all my spirits being named after their respective items. “Anyone have any ideas?”

  Dee piped up first. “It should be something that makes you sound strong.”

  Amy spoke ne
xt. “It should have your name in it so no one forgets who founded it.”

  I looked to Izzy, and she shrugged impassively. Looking to Gwen next, she shrugged as well. “I like plants.”

  I nodded. “Ok then… I guess we’ll call it Rowans Oak.” My spirits all agreed with my choice.

  Andrit was writing the name on a piece of parchment when I turned back to her. “Lovely. The colony of Rowans Oak then.”

  “I thought this was a Duchy?” I asked, suspiciously. I hadn’t exactly had a great track record dealing with Andrit.

  “Oh, it is. Just for administrative purposes we are treating it as a colony until you become self-sufficient.”

  It was reasonable enough, so I stayed silent.

  She grabbed a different piece of parchment, and looked down at it. “Now, the next thing on the agenda for today is an imperial decree. You are to open up relations with the petty kingdoms on the other continent. We expect you to form some kind of trade agreement with at least one, but there will be incentives, if you manage more.”

  I looked at her flabbergasted. “How exactly am I supposed to do that? I don’t know anything about them, I have no idea what I’m doing here, and what would we even trade?”

  She shrugged. “Your gaggle of women includes an excellent spy and assassin does it not? Use her. Knowledge is the greatest tool, and fear is the greatest weapon.”

  “And what if I refuse?”

  She looked personally offended. “Refusing a direct imperial order? I admit that we likely lack the ability to defeat your spirits in battle, but we will cease all shipments of resources or personnel. You will be left to fend for yourselves, and I do not think you wish that. Certainly, not at this early juncture with only a handful of ruffians, and a few shacks to your name.”