Victor of Tucson

Victor shattered yet another stone imp skull, sending the rest of the creature’s crumbling gray body tumbling down the ramp with a kick of his heavy boot. “Seventeen!” he howled, looking to the side to see if Shar or any of the other delvers defending the ramp had heard him, though he didn’t know if they even cared; maybe he was the only one keeping track, but he didn’t mind. His spirits were high, and he was having real, genuine fun for the first time in a long while.

The imps were just alien enough that he felt no qualms whatsoever bashing them apart. Their emotionless faces and grasping stony claws did nothing but creep him out; no empathy for these things could be mustered in Victor’s heart, and so he was free to revel in their destruction.

The pack of imps had been dense, stretching down the ramp and around the curve; there had to have been over a hundred of them, and they pressed into the abattoir that Victor and the other delvers had set up for them. They walked and scrabbled over the corpses of their kin, and Victor, surging with inspiration Energy, led the delvers in their systematic dismantling.

Now, the last stragglers climbed, stumbling on the stony remnants of the dead imps, to the waiting clubs of the delvers, who mopped them up with little difficulty. In the end, Victor counted twenty-two kills, and he shook his baton in the air whooping his triumph. Shar laughed at him, and many of the other delvers smiled, finding it hard to be grumpy with someone purposefully acting the fool just to lift their spirits. Victor knew he was being crazy, and part of him wanted to stop and get serious; why would he want people laughing at him? On the other hand, he didn’t give a shit; he was having fun and confident in his capabilities—what did it matter what all these other delvers thought? Let them laugh.

“Nice one, Shar! I saw you shatter that last guy!”

“Oh, handsome and sweet! I’m going to talk to my captain about getting you transferred,” she purred, matching Victor’s exuberance with her own brand of craziness, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Better quit flirting with me, Shar! Trying to get Heng to beat me up? How many kills? Come on! Was I the only one keeping track?” Victor looked around, and Shar laughed.

“Oh, fine! I think I had seven or eight,” she relented. “Are you happy? Not like you’re going to win something!” As she spoke, though, golden motes began to coalesce over the crumbled remains of the stone imps and then stream toward the delvers. Victor’s column of Energy was much wider than anyone else’s, and as it flooded into him, he grinned, nodding to Shar.

“Yeah, I’d say I won something.”

***Congratulations! You’ve achieved level 18 Spirit Champion. You have gained 7 will, 7 vitality, and have 7 attribute points to allocate.***

“Hey, Victor, is it?” Another delver asked, stepping closer. He was a thickly built Vodkin with sleek black fur and a funny snaggle tooth that hung down over the left side of his mouth under his moist-looking black nose.

“Yeah.”

“Hey, nice job beating the hell out of those imps. I gotta ask, though, you seem strong; why’d they give you that joke of a collar?”

“Um.” Victor reached up to touch his cold iron collar self-consciously. “I’m good at fighting, but my Energy skills are lacking. Way to rub it in, dude.” Would that work? Could he play it off?

“Har, no offense. My Energy skills are worm dung too. At least you have that ability that gave us all some combat zeal. That was great!” He reached out with a big meaty paw to clap Victor on the shoulder, and Victor smiled in relief.

“Hell yeah, bro. Anyone know how long it usually takes between waves?” He looked around at the delvers going through the broken bodies of the imps, tossing pieces out into the well.

“It seems rather random,” a thin Ghelli man with terribly notched wings said, “sometimes a few minutes, sometimes an hour or more.”

“Alright, thanks.” Victor nodded to the Ghelli, then looked at the scavenging delvers. “What you guys looking for?”

“Sometimes they have gems in their bodies,” one of them said, kicking through a pile of imp rubble.

“Like this!” another one exclaimed, holding up a glittering red gem half encased in rough gray rock.

“Lucky find!” Shar said in a breathy whisper, impulsively reaching toward the gem. The little Ardeni pulled it back with a grin.

“Ah-ah, you know the rule—finding’s binding.” He deftly tucked the gem into his vest and moved back into the rubble. Victor shrugged and also started sifting through the imp remains, throwing pieces of rock into the open air of the well as he went. He never found any gems, but it kept him occupied until the next wave of monsters came, this one a heaving, hissing swarm of centipede-like monsters, ranging from the size of his arm to a dozen paces in length.

The bugs were bright yellow with black patterns on their carapaces, and when Victor and the others smashed them with their cudgels, they bled in glowing orange goo that left stinging welts if you got it on your skin. At the end of the battle, Victor was covered in sore, raised red spots, and his clothes and armor were sticky and filthy with the stuff. All save his pants; his wonderful enchanted pants slowly cleaned themselves, and Victor lamented the loss of his matching shirt.

The bug fight wasn’t enough to give him another level, but just as they were mopping up the last of the twitching, hissing creatures, a horde of beetle riders came clicking and howling up the ramp. “Damn, that was fast!” Victor yelled, getting ready for the fight. He hadn’t used his Inspiring Presence in the last battle, but looking around, he saw that his fellow delvers were tired, sore, and not quite ready for another round. He stepped ahead of the line to face the other delvers and activated his spell, shouting, “Come on! Are you tired? Who cares? Those scrawny beetle riders aren’t any match for a delver, tired or not! Let’s beat these little shits back and throw them into the darkness!”

His words might not have been eloquent, but the effect of his aura made up for it. The delvers howled with renewed vigor and determination, and when the beetle riders met their line, they were smashed and pummeled into broken submission. The horde was a lot smaller than the one that Lam’s unit had encountered at the amber ore vein, but the battle still lasted quite a while, and Victor once again started to rack up scratches and bruises and even a few minor stab wounds from beetle rider spears. He wanted to activate his Berserk ability, but he held himself back, afraid that he’d kill a fellow delver or get himself thrown over the edge in his mania.

Still, he used his Channel Spirit ability liberally, especially after the Inspiring Presence wore off, filling his arms and weapon with rage-attuned Energy. So effective was the spell that he was almost guaranteed a kill when he smote a beetle or its rider. His baton tore through carapaces and shattered bones alike, and by the time the horde dwindled to a few stragglers, he was sure he’d killed dozens of the creatures. This time, when the Energy rose from the battlefield and streamed into him, he saw the notification he’d been hoping for:

***Congratulations! You’ve achieved level 19 Spirit Champion. You have gained 7 will, 7 vitality, and have 14 attribute points to allocate.***

On top of the level, he could feel his wounds closing up and his aching bruises fading away. “Fuck yeah!” he said, not as quietly as he intended.

“Another good victory,” Shar said, her demeanor a lot more serious than Victor was used to. He looked at her and saw that she was covered in gore and sporting quite a few shallow cuts. Her face was drawn, and her eyes looked tired.

“You alright?”

“Oh yes, just tired. I used a lot of Energy in the last two battles—more than I recovered from the victory. I’ll be fine after some rest.”

“Ahh, yeah,” Victor looked around, seeing that many of the delvers were in a similar boat, and quite a few were leaving. He also saw some fresh faces and realized a new group had arrived during the beetle fight. “I need a watch,” he said suddenly, realizing he’d lost track of time quite a while ago.

“A watch?”

“Um, a timepiece? Something to keep track of the hour?”

“Of course, I know what a watch is; your statement just caught me off guard. You can buy one at the Contribution Store.”

“Good call! I think I’m going to call it a day. Nice meeting you, Shar.” He turned and waved at the remaining delvers. “See you guys around. Maybe next time my captain gives us a break.”

“Bye, handsome,” Shar said with a weary smile. “Tell Heng to come see me, will you?”

“Sure, I’ll pass it on.” Victor walked to the door, waving as some of the other delvers said goodbye, waved, or thumped him on the back. It felt good hanging out with all these guys and not having any sort of boss around—just fighting for the glory of it against enemies he didn’t feel guilty killing.

“Victor, am I correct in assessing your current level at nineteen?”

“Dammit! Gorz, you startled me again!”

“I’m sorry, Victor.”

“Anyway, yeah, I’m nineteen now.”

“Are you aware that most races receive a class refinement option at level twenty?”

“Yeah, my friend Yrella told me about it, back when I was just figuring shit out. I don’t quite get it, though.”

“You’ll be offered a choice to modify or change your class based on your actions and growth since your last selection.”

“Right, but if I don’t like the options, will I get to keep my current class?”

“Yes, usually.”

“Alright, well, is there anything I can do to prepare?”

“If you were wealthy and had means and access, you could eat natural treasures to improve your attributes, race, and even gain enhancements to your refinement choices. I don’t believe those are options for you, Victor.”

“No shit. Alright, Gorz, I’m lost. Can you please guide me back to the Settlement Stone?”

“Of course, Victor.”

Victor followed Gorz’s instructions and returned to the Settlement Stone cavern without incident. He was disappointed to see he still needed to kill another forty-three “denizens” of the deeps to complete his quest. Still, he had enough credits to purchase a watch. When it coalesced in his hand out of a cloud of yellow and blue smoke, he was pleased to see that it was an old-fashioned, metal-cased pocket watch. When he opened it, though, the little watch hands were floating freely over a shiny brass backplate, seemingly suspended and moved by magic. “Energy,” he corrected himself.

He saw the street vendor selling meat skewers again, and he groaned in frustration. “Gorz! I still need to learn how to make those Energy bead things.”

“Yes, Victor. Perhaps this evening, unless you get yourself busy again.”

“Yeah.”

When Victor returned to the barracks, it was nearly time for the evening meal, and he saw Heng sitting at the table next to Fenlale. He was gesturing widely with his hands and laughing, and Victor wondered if he was recounting the tale of their battle with the hulks. He looked around for Edeya but didn’t see her. He started to walk over to the table, but he felt a hand grip his elbow. He turned around to see Thayla standing behind him, her face even more severe than usual. “Where’s the little one? Edeya?”

“I don’t know. I stayed at the well fighting for a few hours; she came back a long time ago.”

“I had promised her some training, but she never sought me out,” Thayla said, her frown deepening.

“Did you check around back? Talk to her boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, um, a guy she hangs out with. What was his name? B something.”

“Beal, Victor,” Gorz supplied.

“Um, Beal.”

“Beal…” Thayla’s expression clouded more, and she stalked toward the table, and Victor saw her target—a thin, young Ardeni man with curly, bright-green hair. Victor hadn’t ever spoken to the guy, but he’d seen him around. He hadn’t gotten a good look at him when he’d run into them making out behind the building, so he’d never put the name to the face. He watched as Thayla leaned over him, her long black braids falling down the sides of her head and obscuring Victor’s view.

A moment later, Thayla stood and stalked back toward Victor. “He hasn’t seen her all day. What did she tell you when she left?”

“She said she was tired, her head ached, and she wanted to come back to the barracks.” Victor’s mind started to race—first with worry and then with guilt; he’d let her walk back, feeling sick, through dark tunnels, past tons of unsavory assholes, while he fucking had a good time hanging around bashing on monsters all day. “Fuck!” He smashed his fist into his hand.

“You should know by now about walking around the mine alone!” Thayla growled.

“Yeah, buddy system,” Victor said lamely.

“Ugh! I blame Heng, too. Ancestors! Lam isn’t going to let us go looking for her this late.”

“Is Lam back?”

“Yes, she returned an hour or so ago.”

“Let me talk to her. She owes us a reward.”

“True…” Thayla turned and stalked toward Lam’s private door, and Victor hurried after her. Heng laughed and waved when Victor walked by, but Victor hardly registered it. Victor couldn’t stop thinking about Edeya and imagining her lying in some dark tunnel, broken. He felt heat rising in his face, and, for the first time in a while, he felt his grip on his emotions starting to slip. He only managed to get himself under control enough to keep from yanking Lam’s door open when he realized he wasn’t picturing Edeya—he was picturing Yrella’s broken, twitching form. The image burned into his mind when he’d seen her die kept coming to the surface, and he realized he was losing it.

Victor gripped his hands into white-knuckled fists and forced himself to stop walking and breathe. When he had calmed a little, he strode purposefully to Lam’s door, where Thayla was already waiting for a response to her knock. After a few heartbeats, Lam’s voice called, “Come.” Thayla opened the door and walked through, Victor close behind.

“Hello, you two. Here for your reward?” Captain Lam’s smile faltered when she saw Victor’s face. “What is it?” She was sitting at her little table, a thick ledger book open before her, which she closed with a solid *thwap*.

“Something’s happened to Edeya,” Victor blurted. Thayla looked over her shoulder at him with a frown, but she turned back to Lam and elaborated.

“You know, the little Ghelli girl? She went to the well with Victor and Heng and left hours ago, but she never made it back.”

“And? She has an hour or so before lights out. Maybe she went somewhere else?”

“No, something’s wrong,” Victor said through clenched teeth. “She was sore, had a headache. She told me she was coming back to the barracks hours ago. I fucking let her walk back alone.” Lam’s face clouded a bit as her white-blonde eyebrows narrowed.

“I don’t like the idea that some unsavory sort has taken or harmed one of my delvers, but there’s little chance we can find her. I wish you hadn’t let her go alone, Victor.” Victor groaned as his guilt surged again.

“I know! I’m an idiot! Captain, let me go look for her, please! I have a way to track her.”

“Oh?” Both Thayla and the captain looked at him with renewed interest. Captain Lam raised an eyebrow, waiting for further explanation, and Victor stammered for a second, trying to explain without getting himself in trouble.

“I, well, it’s my Core. I can sense certain types of Energy, and I think I can tell if I get near Edeya. I’ll hunt around for a sign of her.”

“An interesting talent,” Captain Lam said. “Wouldn’t that make it possible for you to find those that nearly killed you?”

“Maybe,” Victor decided to keep his lying to a minimum. “I know Edeya a lot better, though.”

“I’ll allow it. Thayla go with him. If it’s another delver group and their captain is present, I want you to channel some Energy into this stone.” Lam produced a small black stone and handed it to Thayla. “I’ll deal with their captain. If not, if some filthy drek have taken her, taken one of my delvers, I want you two to make an example of them.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Victor turned to leave, pulling the door open.

“Victor, don’t let the mine personnel see you if it comes to a fight. I’d hate for them to activate your collars.” Victor paused at her words, but Thayla pressed a hand against his shoulder blade, pushing him forward, and he resumed walking, his heart full of urgency and determination and his mind full of guilt and worry.

Thayla didn’t say anything as they hurried down the main tunnel, jogging toward the central settlement stone. Victor’s mind was running away from him, images of terrible things happening to Edeya flashing through it, followed by darker, vengeful, violent fantasies. He shook his head and tried to get focused, “Gorz, please keep an eye out for Edeya’s Energy signature.”

“Of course, Victor. I’m already doing it.”

“Thanks.”

“Victor, I might suggest spending your remaining attribute points.”

“Right.” Victor was too preoccupied to vacillate about his choices, so he simply followed his latest pattern: six into strength, four into dexterity and agility.

“You can really find her?” Thayla asked as they started to pass by some of the outlying shanties and closed on the main settlement cavern.

“Yes, I’m going to be running around, seemingly at random, but I’m just trying to get a feel for her. Stay with me.” With that, Victor picked up the pace and started running. He passed by a lot of people, but most ignored him—people were often late for one thing or another in the mine, and supervisors were rarely forgiving of tardiness. Seeing a couple of delvers running pell-mell through the mine wasn’t all that unusual. Soon, they were in the Settlement Stone section of the massive tunnel, cutting through alleys, jumping over piled scrapwood, and skirting around crowds of miners and delvers.

Victor realized he was heading to the building where he’d located his assailants. He had no reason to believe they were the ones that had done something to Edeya, but he knew they were creeps, so why not check? “I’m sorry, Victor, I see the signature of one of your enemies within the building, but no sign of Edeya.”

“Dammit,” Victor spat, running past the building and continuing his meandering circuit of the cavern. He was working his way around the outer perimeter of structures toward the tunnel that led to the well. He cut in and out of alleys, got cussed at by quite a few filthy miners that he pushed through to get past their smokey, stinking cookfires, and finally finished his first circuit around the settlement space.

“Nothing?” Thayla asked as he paused to get his bearings.

“No, fuck!”

“Relax. You can’t do any good if you lose it. Get it together; plenty of time for guilt later.”

“Alright.” Victor took a deep breath, trying to calm down. She was right; there had to be a smarter way to handle this. “Where do creeps go in this place? I mean, unless Edeya is dead, they took her for a reason, right? Where do fucking assholes go to, you know, take advantage of people?”

“I don’t know! I don’t spend time with that type.”

“I have an idea.” Victor turned back toward the building with the black star painted on the door, the building where the assholes who’d jumped him hung out. He ran full out, and he knew Thayla was struggling to keep up, but he didn’t care. “Gorz,” he said aloud. “Tell me if that fucker is still there alone.”

“I will, Victor.”

Victor charged between buildings, ran past several crowds of miners drinking from big, well-used tankards, and finally came around the corner in front of the building. “Yes, Victor, I sense several Energy signatures within, but only one of the fellows who jumped you.”

“Get ready,” he said to Thayla, then he stalked up to the door with the star painted on it, grabbed the handle, and yanked it open. Sweet smoke billowed out, and he had to wave it away to see the interior of the building. He stepped over the threshold, and finally, things resolved in his vision—several wobbly tables with chairs, a group of four men sitting at one of them, smoke wafting into the air from their pipes, piles of glittering marble-like gems on the table, and some dice. Everything was illuminated by low, red-tinged Energy orbs.

“Sorry, game’s full,” said a one-eyed Cadwalli. Victor scanned the other faces, but he didn’t really recognize them. Something caught his eye, though: the thin Ardeni man with the smug smile on his face wore a collar that glinted brightly in the red light. It was made of shiny silvery metal and studded with several clear crystals. Here was a serious Energy user, a man that might conjure the very earth against his enemies.

“No worries. I just need to talk to one of you.” Victor said, a fake, rather insane-looking smile on his face as he strode toward the table. Thayla stepped along behind him, her hand gripping the baton still in her belt.

“We’re rather busy, friend. Wait outside ‘til after the game, will ya?”

“Oh, sure. Yeah, sorry to bug you,” Victor said, now only three feet from the table. Suddenly he used Channel Spirit to absolutely flood his pathways with rage-attuned Energy. His body veritably lit up with a red halo, and he exploded over the remaining distance with one stride and had his hand around the throat of the thin Ardeni, lifting him like he was made of straw out of his chair and squeezing him to the point where he could feel the tendons straining not to pop under his grip. “Make one fucking move to cast a spell, and I’ll take your head off!”

Chairs screeched on the wooden floor as the other room occupants moved back or stood up, reaching for weapons. “Ah-ah!” Thayla said, waving her baton at the three of them. “We’ve got no problem with you guys. Let my friend deal with his problem, and we’ll be gone in a moment. You don’t owe him, do you?”

“Don’t kill him! He’s losing this hand,” the Cadwalli said.

“Depends on him. You ready to talk, asshole?” Victor growled, struggling to contain his fury with all the rage-attuned Energy in his pathways. The Ardeni moved his lips like a fish out of water, and Victor realized he couldn’t speak. He reached forward and grabbed the man’s wrist with his other hand, squeezing until the bones ground together, then he loosened his grip on his throat. The man sputtered and coughed.

“You’ve made a mistake,” he wheezed.

“Spare me. Now, answer this simple question: Where would someone who kidnapped a pretty, young girl take them in this fucking mine?”

“What? I didn’t kidnap any girl?”

“Stop! Think about the question I asked you and fucking answer it, or I am going to pull this arm out of the socket. No more warnings.” Literal steam was coming out of Victor’s mouth with his growled, guttural words, and his vision was growing more and more red by the second.

“Maybe the northwest tunnels, toward the well. Some groups sell sex there.”

“Good. I’m in a hurry, but you and I aren’t done. I owe you,” Victor growled, and, as he turned to leave, he yanked the man’s arm with such force that his body flopped forward, and his head smacked onto the wooden table with a resounding crack. “If he owes you for the game, take what you want,” he growled to the Cadwalli as he turned and ripped the door off its hinges in his haste to get out of there. He was already running toward the well when he finally managed to push his rage-attuned Energy back into his Core, and he heard Thayla yelling.

“A little warning would have been nice!”

“I told you to get ready!” Victor snapped.

“Don’t take it out on me, Victor,” Thayla replied. Her voice was grave and heavy, and Victor knew what she was thinking—they were too late. Edeya had been missing all day; what horrors had she already endured? Victor screamed in rage up at the cavern ceiling, and several nearby miners scrabbled to get back from him as he ran past. He ducked into the tunnel leading to the well, and when he came out to the large, open passage, he scanned the wall on the left, looking for further tunnels. It didn’t take long to find, especially running as he was, and soon he was blindly charging through a warren of twisting tunnels, passing through small caverns filled with little shanties and tents.

“Here, Victor!” Gorz’s tinny, metallic voice suddenly shrieked in his mind.

“Where?” Victor scanned the cavern as Thayla ran up behind him. He saw a dozen small wooden buildings and half as many large canvas tents. Grubby, disheveled miners lingered around little cook pots, drinking whatever homemade swill they used to blind them to their misery.

“Twenty-seven meters ahead of you and slightly to your right.”

“Get ready; she’s here,” Victor said, striding toward the big brown canvas tent in the direction Gorz had indicated. Thayla hefted her baton, looking around to ensure no mine employees were present. Victor couldn’t remember seeing even one the entire time they’d been searching, so he wasn’t particularly worried. There weren’t any guards or anything watching the flaps of the big tent, so Victor walked right up, yanked the flap aside, and walked into the tent.

The cavern outside had been very dim, so he had to squint his eyes at first against the bright yellow light in the tent. He’d just started to look around when a haughty voice said, “What are you doing here, delvers? Get back to your units.” Victor saw the speaker was wearing a mining consortium uniform, which gave him pause, but when he saw the cage behind him, filled with chained, bruised, bleeding people, his rage pulsed hotly in his Core. He took another step forward, studying the faces of the prisoners. When he saw Edeya crumpled in the back of the cage, blood dripping from her nose and one of her wings bent and broken, he turned to glare at the thin, mustached Ardeni with bright yellow hair.

“The fuck is going on here?”

“Nothing for you to worry about. I told you to go back to your units.” He pulled a thin metal rod out of his belt. “On second thought, drop your batons.” Victor heard a thud as Thayla dropped her baton to the dirty yellow rug. “You too, big man.” He waved the thin rod at Victor, raising an eyebrow. When Victor didn’t move fast enough, he shrugged and said, “You’ve seen too much anyway.”

Suddenly Victor’s collar began to grow warm, then hot, and his mind registered what was happening. This asshole was going to kill him. Without thinking about it, he unleashed his hold on his Core, flooding his body with rage and inspiration-attuned Energy, using Channel Spirit to power his arms and hands. He dropped his baton, his whole body suddenly limned with red and white flickering, pulsing Energy.

“Too late for that,” the man snickered, watching as Victor’s baton rolled to clatter against Thayla’s. Then Victor reached up and grabbed his hot, burning collar, and he pulled with both hands. Metal screeched as he stretched and tore it apart like it was made of taffy. He threw the broken, deformed pieces at the feet of the mine employee, and then he let his fists do what they’d been aching for.