All The Skills - A Deckbuilding LitRPG

Book 3: Chapter 46: Outvoted

Arthur’s emotions were in a whirlwind. Confusion over how the Mind Singer could possibly think that she had killed Brixaby mixed with worry he’d gotten himself in too far over his head. Deep in his mind, Arthur still saw himself as a kid from the border-village. Less than nobody. Now he was involved in high politics and had sentient scourgelings threatening entire hives because of him.

But the most prominent emotion was seething anger.

The Mind Singer had known Brixaby’s abilities well enough to lay a trap card. Then she had been so convinced it would work that she had made major moves because of it.

Arthur sensed that more of this plot lay under the surface – this was the type of thing Cressida excelled at, not him – but all he could focus on as he accepted a ride from Laird to the council’s mesa was that the Mind Singer was a threat. She had to be eliminated.

Despite his seething rage, he wasn’t completely blind to what was going on around him. He’d expected Free Hive to be in a state of minor uproar. The alarms had been blaring non-stop for minutes now with no sign of abating.

Arthur expected people to be evacuating. Maybe gearing up to defend themselves.

Instead, he saw shops and booths shuttering up, people darting into larger caves, and others clustering in worried knots. All talking and glancing worriedly up at the tall, bubbled ceilings as if wondering if the stone would fall down on their heads any moment.

No one was preparing for battle. They looked to be just waiting for the shoe to drop. Some even looked slightly annoyed that their day had been interrupted.

And they have no combat cards, he thought and had to resist the urge to reach into his Personal Space, withdraw a handful, and toss them down like confetti.

He might have done it if Ghost weren’t flying beside Laird. That might be hard to explain.

Patience, he told himself and leaned forward to call out to Laird. The dragon was large, and because Arthur sat at the base of his neck, he had to yell to be heard over snapping wings and the rush of wind.

“I’m going to activate my stealth skills. Try not to forget I’m here.”

Sometimes the stealth skills could work oddly on the mind.

Laird snorted. “You may have matured, but you are still a bitty thing and easily overlooked. I don’t think the scourgeling is concerned with you. Only your dragon.”

That was a very dragonish attitude to have. He was also, Arthur was sure, dead wrong. The scourgeling had a vendetta, and Arthur would be a fool to ignore it.

But Arthur wasn’t asking for permission. Only giving a heads up.

He focused on his Stealth class and activated every skill in it: Silent Movement, Heightened Awareness, Camouflage, Evasion, Deception, Concealment, and of course Stealth. The overall class also gave him a boost of +5 to Perception and +3 to Luck.

Luck would be vitally important because he had the feeling he would need all he could get.

Nothing changed from his point of view, though he did see Ghost throwing him some odd glances his way. As a Stealth card specialist, he likely wasn’t fooled by Arthur’s skills.

Arthur threw a sarcastic wave at him.

With a scowl, the dragon turned his head away.

He smirked, but then, as an afterthought, focused on activating his mental blocking skills as well. Never hurts to be prepared.

Laird, of course, knew all the shortcuts and aerial byways in the hive. They erupted into the bright sunshine moments later.

Too bright.

Arthur covered his eyes with a wince. That movement let him mask a long glance back over to the salt sea and the peninsula.

There was no sign of the dragons they’d fought last night, or of Shadow's body. It was only bleak gray and bleached white stone out there. All the bodies had been removed.

He wanted to ask Laird what exactly he’d done, but again, not when Ghost was near. He was lucky the silver dragon wasn’t asking him pointed questions about what had happened last night.

Both adult dragons curved their wings and beat swiftly upward to crest the top of the mesa.

Again, Arthur was surprised. He fully expected an enemy army waiting for him, considering the alarms. Maybe the Mind Singer herself with her sisters.

Instead, he saw the humans of the council gathered together in a loose circle near to where the entrance of the prison had been. Meanwhile, four unfamiliar dragons flew high overhead in tight, perfect circles like circling vultures. They didn’t come close enough to identify.

As Laird came into land, Arthur took a swift glance around for signs of their break-in last night—was it only last night? It felt so long ago. He saw nothing. The hasty patch job he and Brixaby had made still held up.

He wished his dragon was here now.

Chablis pushed to the front, her eyes slipping over Arthur as she frowned at Laird. “What took so long? Where is the Legendary pair? Is it true?”

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“I knew it,” one of the councilmen grumbled. “They’re dead or fled. Your plan didn’t work, Chablis.”

Chablis turned and opened her mouth to retort. Before she could say anything, notes drifted down from the circling dragons above.

Whispers on the mesa, shadows on the wall

Your Legendary defender’s fallen, woe to you all.

We demand your surrender, lay your weapons down

Hand over your combat cards, or in the fight you’ll drown…

Drown?

Arthur glanced up. The dragons were so high in the sky they looked smaller than the top joint of his thumb.

One of them must have had a communication card to send that… song to them, then.

Which meant they could likely hear what was being spoken.

Arthur hopped off the dragon's neck and landed lightly. No one so much as gave him a second glance.

It was as close to being invisible as he could get. Though he suspected that if he spoke or made a spectacle of himself, people would notice him.

He glanced up at the circling dragons. Hopefully, his stealth worked on them too.

Then again, had the Mind Singer ever laid eyes on him? Possibly, during the Demi-scourge eruption. Though he thought he might have been fighting her sisters rather than herself. She might have caught a glimpse of him when she first escaped the scholar's library. He didn't want to risk it.

Sliding one hand over Laird's scales as he walked to let the dragon know where he was, he ducked under his chest. Laird was tall, but Arthur couldn't quite stand up straight. Crouched, he dropped his stealth skills.

Laird glanced down at him, and then, within moments, ushered Chablis closer.

The woman was visibly startled when she saw Arthur; her eyes wide. She didn't say anything, however. Her eyes flicked upward, and Arthur nodded. They had to keep quiet.

Shushing the council members – several of whom had spotted Arthur and started to speak – Chablis ducked under Laird to join him. It was an odd meeting place, but perfectly hidden from above.

She spoke in a whisper. “If the worst happens, will you help us?”

Will you fight for us? Was the unspoken question.

Arthur nodded.

Chablis turned and ducked back out. She’d only risked a moment, knowing they were being watched–and probably listened to– from above.

“Council members,” she said, “it appears we have no choice. We should treat this group like any other Kingdom Hive: Get this over with and pay them off. I propose the standard pricing.”

“I disagree. This is no Kingdom Hive,” Laird snapped. “This is a hive run by a scourgeling. It cannot be reasoned with—it’s already admitting to attacking us once! Of killing a Legendary dragon under our care!”

One of the council members spoke up, his voice creaky with age. “The kingdom hives will not allow a powerful scourgeling—if that is truly what this is— to exist for long. I say we shoo the thing off our doorstep before it brings its war to us.”

Arthur looked on in confusion. Were they saying what he thought they were saying?

Chablis turned to Laird. “Scourgelings cannot live here – we barely can with all our utility cards. It’s a wasteland. It would be pointless to attack us,” she added, a touch louder and clearly aimed at the listening dragons, “but in the spirit of efficiency and good will--”

And cowardness, Arthur thought

“--we could deliver a payment of combat cards. As we do all Kingdom Hives,” she finished.

“Aye,” said the creaky councilman.

Three more ‘ayes’ followed, with Laird being the pointed ‘Nay’.

With a satisfied nod, Chablis stepped away from the others and directed her voice upward. “Our payment of peace is 20 Common Cards, 10 Uncommon, and 3 Rare. All guaranteed combat focused.”

Arthur felt a little sick. Not only with the suggestion, but the knowledge that Chablis was offering something she didn’t have. And she didn’t know it.

Well… on second thought, there were perhaps 20 semi-useless Common cards and possibly 10 Uncommon. Possibly. They hadn’t left any Rare behind, however.

The circling dragons didn’t hesitate a moment.

We agree, our hearts convey,

But as a warning, act fast and do not delay.

“That’s a yes.” Chablis glanced at Laird, saw he was still sheltering Arthur and then nodded to Ghost who stood nearby waiting. “If you could convey us to the peninsula? Laird, please stay with our… guests.” She nodded upward.

“This is a mistake,” Laird growled. “A scourgeling’s greed will never be satisfied.”

“That’s your opinion. You were outvoted.”

With that, Chablis made her way to the silver dragon. The other council members followed.

Arthur watched them go, fighting with himself all the while on if he should call out. If he had Brixaby by his side, he would have. Together, they had taken on four dragons last night. They might be able to at least drive these off if they made a stand.

Assuming the council members had combat cards hidden up their sleeves and were willing to use them.

But he didn’t have Brixaby, or Cressida or Joy by his side. And Laird stayed just as silent, which was telling. Arthur wondered if he had a plan or if he was just as frustrated.

Ghost flew off, his wing beats labored with four people on his back.

How long would it take to get to the library and discover it had been looted?

It turned out it didn't matter, because the moment they disappeared into the dungeon, Laird let out a bitter bark of laughter.

"So whatever this is really about begins. I tried to warn them, but as you saw, I was outvoted.”

Arthur saw he was looking up. Carefully, he stepped out from under the dragon to peer upward, though he kept within his shadow.

The singing emissaries had stopped circling in place and were now flying in a different, complex pattern. All of them were figure eights that met in the middle and expanded out again.

It was odd, almost ritualistic.

"What are they..." Arthur started.

He trailed off. There was something different about the air. It was tingly. It was different, thinner, and tingly at the same time.

For some reason, it affected his mana vault. It was as if someone were knocking at its door. Arthur firmly kept it shut.

Whatever they were doing, it was a spell. A powerful one.

With a sound like tearing paper, the sky seemed to rip in two. Two of the dragons — they looked dark green, though he couldn't tell for sure — broke off from the figure eights and grabbed each side, then they pulled the rip open wide enough to let dragons through.

"That's a portal," Arthur gasped, and before he could think otherwise, he turned and leapt onto Laird’s neck. "Back to the hive. We need to close the entrances — we need to defend it —"

As Laird lifted into the air, the first dragons from the Mind Singer's hive poured out of the rip in the sky.