Book 2 - Chapter 2 (Patreon)

The cellar was cold and dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of the magical characters inscribed into the ring of silver around them. The illumination coming from below cast Hogg in a sinister light. A fitting atmosphere for discussing the secrets of [Witches].

“Why don’t we begin by telling me who they are. You said that there were seven [Witches] in Hammon’s Bog, and that one of them is the traitor.”

Hogg nodded. “As far as one of them being the traitor, you have as much information on that as I do. There were just too many coincidences lining up that night; they definitely have a spy inside the town. Well, maybe there’s one other thing. The night you and I returned to town, Tawna’s visions of fate went crazy. She originally thought it was all because of you, then later learned it was mostly because of me, but there’s another explanation. [Witches] have power over fate. I don’t think they make fate tell lies to a [Weaver], but injecting chaos, making the future uncertain? That’s well within their purview.

“As for who they are… well if you want me to tell you, then I’ll tell you.”

“Why do I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming?” asked Brin.

“But,” Hogg said, drawing out the word. “I think it’d be better if you figured it out on your own.”

Brin rubbed his temples. “This is like the Achievements all over again.”

“It’s exactly like that. And was I wrong, or do you have some unbelievably good Achievements?”

“You weren’t wrong, although I don’t think you get to take credit for all of them. Only, why can’t anything ever be simple with you?”

“You want simple? Say the word and I’ll tell you flat out. But I think it could be a valuable exercise for you to figure it out yourself. One of the best ways to level up [Inspect] is to figure out things on your own that it was blocked from telling you. And [Inspect] is the best Skill, hands down.”

“Ok, but can we really afford to waste time like that? Who the [Witches] are isn’t as important as figuring out who the traitor is,” said Brin.

“True, but this will help with that, too. You’ll be looking at it with a completely fresh set of eyes. Your personal investigation might turn up things that I missed.”

Brin shrugged. “If you think it’ll help, sure, I’ll give it a shot.”

“Alright, then we’ll make a game of it. First rule, no discussing [Witches] or the undead outside of this circle. We’re protected from eavesdropping here, but only here. Until we know who the traitor is, we can’t ever assume we’re safe. Second rule, outside of this circle, you have to pretend you don’t know anything that I’ve told you about [Witches]. We’ve never discussed it.

“I can’t stress this enough. Arcaena knows that we know they’re out there. The only reason they haven’t destroyed this town is because they think they don’t have to. If they start to feel like we’re getting close to finding their spy, that just may tip them into thinking it’ll be worth the undead they’d lose and kill us all. And they will kill us all. Even with my new Class there’s a limit to how many undead I can kill before they wear me down, and that number is far fewer than a million.

“You don’t have to convince, I totally understand. I’ll be circumspect,” said Brin.

“Good. Third rule. When you think you’ve found a [Witch] come back here and make an accusation. I’ll tell you whether you’re right or not, but if you ever get it wrong, the game’s over and I’ll tell you all their names. You can also give me a name to rule them out, and I’ll tell you, but if you’re wrong and they’re really a [Witch] the game is over. We need real stakes or this won’t work. ”

“Fair enough,” said Brin.

“Good. Then game on. Shall we make it interesting? I’ll give you ten gold for each one you get right, and you owe me ten gold for each one you didn’t guess. That means when you guess the first one wrong, you’ll owe me seventy gold.”

That was a lot of money by most people’s terms, but it was basically pocket change to Hogg and Brin.

“Deal,” said Brin. “But I want to know everything about [Witches]. You don’t have to tell me about individuals, but I’m running blind against what their Class can do. They’re magic users, right? How are they different from a [Mage]?”

“[Mages] generally channel the elements. Usually the basic elements: earth, wind, water, and fire, but even my hard light can be considered an element. [Witches] on the other hand, start with the base Skill [Summon the Wyrd]. The Wyrd is hard to explain, but if we’re thinking in terms of elements, I’d say it’s the intersection between life, death, fate, and nature. It lets them do… um… pretty much anything.”

“You’re kidding,” said Brin.

“Exaggerating, maybe, but it’s difficult to say exactly what is and isn’t possible for a [Witch]. Some things that sound like they should be super difficult, like giving someone the plague, is a simple Hex. Other things that sound like they should be easy, like throwing a fireball, take an elaborate ritual. To add another twist, the Wyrd can be used to amplify the effects of their base Class. [Cooks] will be able to make diabolical brews. Stuff like that.”

Brin looked around the cellar, hoping for a notepad he could jot this information down on, but of course there was nothing like that here. Even if there was, he couldn’t bring any notes he took down out of the circle. “That seems ridiculously broad. How do you defend yourself against someone who can do anything?”

“[Witch] powers seem to center around the concept of hospitality. Sort of like the fae in that respect. Don’t eat her food, don’t lay with her, don’t sleep in her house at all, don’t wear her clothes, that kind of thing. If you do any of that, make sure you pay her and make sure she agrees on the payment in advance.”

"None of that actually helps find one," said Brin.

"Familiars are a good giveaway. Look for something that has human intelligence, but shouldn't. Sometimes animals, but it could also be the tools they used from the Class they evolved from. Look for someone who's Class does something it shouldn't. Usually she'll have a nature-attuned ability that seems out of place."

“You keep saying ‘she’. Can only women become [Witches]?”

“There’s male [Witches], too, but not many for some reason.”

“Do they have any other weaknesses I should know about?”

“[Witch] powers are usually very indirect. If you have to kill one, just run over and cut her head off. Don’t get drawn into a conversation, and don’t even look at her if you can avoid it. In a direct fight, they use familiars or the undead.”

Brin shivered, mostly from the chill of the cellar, but also from the memories that the chill brought with them. “It’s getting cold in here. One last question for now. If you knew there were seven [Witches] in Hammon’s Bog, why haven’t you taken care of them already? Are [Witches] not as evil as we thought?”

“Maybe, maybe not. But I can’t just go around killing everyone I think is evil. They actually have to do something wrong first, and I haven’t caught the [Witches] in town abusing their powers.”

“What about Siphani?”

Hogg stood up. “Siphani did something wrong. She aged her parents ten years, stole their health, even messed with their minds. And even after all that, I gave her a chance. I didn’t lie back then. That story was the truth.” He stepped over the circle of silver on the floor and walked towards the cellar door. “That’s enough for now. I have some errands to run.”

“What kind of errands?”

“Come along if you want,” said Hogg.

Brin followed Hogg down the street, and immediately he was the center of attention again. No one outright stared, but he saw people nudge their friends and point at him, and he could hear them talking about him, but for once there wasn’t any kind of hostility directed at him. Instead, it was like he was the quarterback of the football team that just took state.

It was a nice feeling to be so popular, but at the same time intensely uncomfortable to be the center of attention. No one approached them, though. People didn’t interrupt Hogg when he looked like he was busy.

Hogg stopped in his tracks. “Ugh. Now you’ve got me thinking about them. Let’s go check in with the Pecks. It’s been a while.”

Hogg took off in a different direction, and Brin didn’t argue. The Pecks were a sensitive topic with Hogg. He still felt responsible, although in the end, he hadn’t killed her. Siphani had killed herself by throwing herself into a river rather than live without her Class.

The house stood out in Hammon’s Bog like Brin’s ax-wound scar stood out on his forehead. The whole building seemed to age faster than it should. The plaster was gray and moldy, the wood was warped and splintering.

Micah Peck sat in a rocking chair on the front porch where he always was, gazing listlessly off into nowhere.

“Afternoon, Micah,” said Hogg as they passed by, but Micah didn’t even look at them.

Inside, the room wasn’t quite as bad as the first time Brin had been here. It stank from an overfull chamber pot that the resident had kept using regardless, and there was a smattering of trash on the floor, but people had obviously been coming by to help fairly regularly.

Effa sat in her armchair, looking prematurely aged, dirty, and hopeless. The usual. She took one look at Hogg, then huffed and looked away. From previous visits, Brin knew that this meant that she wouldn’t be talking.

“That’s fine. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it,” said Hogg, and started walking towards the sink where dirty dishes had piled up.

Brin moved towards the closet with the broom but Hogg said, “Why don’t you go fetch them some lunch. I’ll finish up here.”

He didn’t argue. It was a good thing Hogg was doing, but honestly he was glad to get out of there as soon as possible. A quick walk over to the public house, and Hela didn’t even scowl at him when he walked in. Right, he wasn’t a child anymore, he was allowed in here. He ordered lunch, and Hela brought it out right away and refused payment when he mentioned what it was for.

He returned with two covered plates of roast pork and vegetables. “Got something to say to me, Micah?”

“We would’ve done anything for that girl,” he said. “Do you understand?” He said this every time.

“I still don’t. Sorry,” said Brin.

Micah gazed up at him when he placed the food in his lap, with an expression of despair, as if he dreaded the fact that the food would keep him alive a little longer, but he ate all the same.

Effa didn’t look at him at all and pretended not to notice when he placed the plate in her lap.

Hogg was already done cleaning up when he arrived, so the two of them left on their way again.

[Witches]. Just one stupid teenager had created a lifetime of suffering for those two. What kind of madness could a high level [Witch] unleash? Even thinking about Effa and Micah made his heart rate increase. They’d adopted her, took her into their home, had done everything for her, and she’d taken everything from them.

So who were the [Witches]? Was one of them on the street with him right now? His first thought was Chamylla, the [Enchantress]. High level, very powerful, and an [Enchantress]. Aberthol, the original owner of Brin’s body, was the son of an [Enchantress]-turned-[Witch]. Although that wasn’t much of a lead now that he knew pretty much anyone could turn [Witch].

Maybe the [Pharmacist]? Making medicines seemed like a perfect disguise for a [Witch’s] power. The only argument against that was that the [Pharmacist] was a man, and that when [Siphani] had started making medicine, her cures had been much better.

Brin would be able to investigate the man soon, though, because apparently the pharmacy was Hogg’s destination.

Like many of the shops in town, [Pharmacist] Calisto’s workshop was the same room as his storefront. There was a shelf with potions and pills already available for sale, and the rest of the space was dedicated to the laboratory. Beakers and bottles, connected with enchanted burners and chillers, as well as faucets for water and three different kinds of gas all stood together on the main work table. A furnace stood in the corner, sort of looking like one of those old country stoves, but with several levers and odd tubes poking out in places. A heavy duty four-door freezer made up the entire back wall.

Calisto looked like a younger Doc Brown, with the manic eyes and the same crazy hair, but brown instead of white. He mumbled to himself as he flipped through a loose-leafed booklet while sitting in a rocking chair. He didn’t look up when they arrived.

“We have business,” said Hogg.

Calisto slapped his booklet onto the desk near his rocking chair. “Business! We all have business! My business is to read the latest discoveries from Steamshield, so that I can cure this town with cutting edge methods. This isn’t business. It’s an interruption to business!”

He was already moving, though. He grabbed Brin by the shoulder and dragged him over to push him into a high-seated stool. He put Brin’s arm into a hand-pumped blood pressure tester, surprisingly similar to the things you’d find in department stores in his old life. Then he put a swab to Brin’s mouth. Brin knew the drill by now, so he opened his mouth so that Calisto could take a sample from the inside of Brin’s cheek.

He put the swab in a bottle filled with a strange blue goop, and eyed it as the color turned subtly greenish.

“We’ll have to wait for this to finish, but I can already see that your sandalwood allergy has cleared up. You’re still allergic to agrimony, though, and you’re definitely not to go near another mana potion until further notice!”

After the fight with the undead, Hogg and Callisto had fed him mana potion after mana potion while he’d been passed out so that his [Scarred One] powers could hold him together until his wounds healed. It had been a close call, apparently. He’d been asleep through it all, though. When he’d woken up, he’d been informed that he was now allergic to mana potions.

“That’s fine,” said Brin. “I won’t go near any potions at all until this clears up.”

“Just make sure you bring it to me first, so I can test your compatibility, yes?” Calisto said.

“Sure.”

“Now about my business,” said Hogg.

“I know you’re not going to ask me for another commission. I don’t have the time, because some old [Rogue] showed up the other day and asked me to replace an entire lifetime’s supply of expendables, so I just know that that same guy isn’t going to show up again before I’ve even had a chance to get started. Love to see your new Class, by the way Brin. When can I expect better quality beakers?”

“It’s a long way off. Ademir is still way better than me,” said Brin.

“Nonsense. I give it two weeks before–”

Hogg growled in irritation. “Fine! How about this?”

He pulled a red light bulb-shaped crystal out of his pocket and slapped it onto the workbench.

Calisto trailed off. “Great mazes of Sezorat, is that what I think it is?”

“This is the bulb of a four-leafed Tiger–”

“Zzzz!” Calisto waved Hogg to silence. He darted over to his front window and pulled the shutters down, and then locked his front door. Only then did he creep back towards them, as if approaching a sleeping dragon.

“The bulb of a four-leafed Tiger Lotus,” said Calisto. “I might level just by smelling it.”

“I need a Health Potion,” said Hogg.

“Do you understand what you’re asking? Making a potion like this would let me finally unlock [Alchemist]! But if you gave it to someone who’s already an [Alchemist, the potion they’d make would be twice as potent. Are you sure?” Calisto’s eyes never left the ingredient, he was practically drooling.

Brin’s value sense told him that that one little ingredient was worth eight thousand gold. Enough to buy an entire town like Hammon’s Bog.

Hogg drummed his fingers on the worktable near the bulb, as if eager to snatch it back. “Let me level with you. I like you, Calisto, I really do, but if I had any other choice I’d go to someone else. But I don’t. We’re cut off from the rest of the world. If anyone tries to get out of this forest, knowing what we know, they’d better be prepared to fight their way through the best of what Arcaena can throw at them. So it’s going to be you. Even a weak Health Potion is an extra life. And the town could use an [Alchemist].”

Calisto tentatively brought his fingers to softly touch the Tiger Lotus bulb, then picked it up, eyes darting back and forth between Hogg and the ingredient, as if not believing that Hogg was really going to give it to him.

Calisto licked his lips. “You know, the standard rate when the customer provides the ingredients would be thirty percent of the potion’s final sale price.”

Hogg laughed. “I’ll give you one-half of one percent. In return, I get twenty percent ownership of your business. Brin is my heir, by the way, and going forward you’ll sell all your products to us at cost.”

Calisto didn’t even blink. “Done. I’ll start right away”

“Good,” said Hogg.

Calisto was still staring at the Tiger Lotus bulb when Hogg and Brin left the workshop, locking the door again behind them.

“What’s next?” asked Brin.

“If you’re planning on… doing what you’re planning on doing, you’re going to want Gustaff’s help. He’s not exactly a world-class [Illusionist], but he can at least demonstrate some of the mid-level abilities. I’ve been meaning to talk to him anyway. About the other day.”

“You don’t think he’s working with… them, do you?” asked Brin.

“It doesn’t hurt to check.”