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EV B2 Chapter 6:
🕑 Added 2024-10-15 02:32:17 +0000 UTCEV B2 Chapter 6:
I managed to weasel out of kneecapping Phil the Gnome's competitor by the time I left the shop with a locator amulet in hand. Somehow, I managed to end up in the exact situation I was planning on avoiding by coming to Phil the Gnomes. I now owed a minor favor, backed by Loki. It was... not ideal, but I didn't really see any other real option. It wasn't a large favor, and I held onto hope that I could pay it back in cash, even with interest. But that didn't seem likely.
No, it seemed inevitable that I was just digging myself deeper and getting more entangled with Loki at every turn. That was probably exactly what Loki was expecting, but I didn't really see any other options. I supposed I could have tried to form a new party of newbies, but, well, it would be slow. I'd have to hide my own power and generally fail for a bit. Otherwise, it would be obvious that I was someone who wasn't supposed to be there, which might bring up whatever was wrong with my last stay.
Besides, as an associate of Loki's, I was rather expected to keep a low profile. Whether that was an implied rule or a straight command, I wasn't sure, but that was all I could do. Pushing the consequences out of my mind, I just had to accept that I would be owing a favor to Loki. The last one hadn't been so terrible.
Pushing some of my mana into the locator amulet, I focused on Bjorn. Not just the name but what I knew about the person. This wasn't a very precise art, but I could feel a general pull, the amulet tugging me in a direction. I made a quick turn down a side street and began wandering with purpose. The pull wasn't exactly a compass, but it gave me a general direction, and I meandered through the sprawling city, street after street, following the general impulse.
There was some magic behind this place that I still didn't fully understand, but I went long enough that the challenge and the arena were far off in the distance. Wondering how this worked, I found that the arena's entrance was the only one near the challenge. The arena, where newbies entered Valhalla proper, had an entrance to the challenge, but that was far from the only one. Other entrances to the challenge were spread out amongst Valhalla, and the different levels of affluence varied wildly.
As the general wealth of the area increased, some of the open flames were replaced with mana torches. Rough-hewn planks were replaced by marble facades. The levels of the relative denizens of Valhalla also increased. Near the first entrance, everyone was mostly under level 10 or even just level 5. But now that I think about it, most of those people probably hadn't established themselves in Valhalla and were just scraping by.
Going farther from the entrance to the city, I found that the average level began to increase, though not by as much as I thought. In a relatively wealthy-feeling area, most of the people around me were around level 20. Considering my own level, I felt relatively at home and was glad that Bjorn had apparently moved up in the world.
The entrance to the challenge here was not much different—still the same imposing building, but less busy, much more established. Groups of five were going in and out. No one entered alone.
So, I moved past it, not seeing any benefit in gawking like a tourist, and followed the pull from the locator a few streets down and into a tavern. I smiled, remembering my friend's fondness—and perhaps weakness—for alcohol.
Entering the tavern, which was surprisingly empty, but not unexpectedly so for mid-morning, I saw a few tables filled with sleeping warriors. To my surprise, I made eye contact with Bjorn, who was standing behind the bar. I stopped in the doorway, stunned, and blinked before I broke the awkward eye contact with a half-hearted wave.
Bjorn's eyes moved lazily up and down my body. Seeing my wave, he briefly flashed a confused look before recognition sparked in his eyes. He lifted his hand in a confused wave, but even that seemed rather half-hearted. I frowned, unsure if he was happy to see me. I would have understood if he wasn't, but something else was very wrong here.
As I walked up to the bar and he greeted me with a lifted hand, I realized there was something else. His eyes didn't dilate quite right, and parts of his face seemed numb. I frowned in concern.
"Bjorn, are you all right?"
He looked at me with that same slightly confused expression. "Drink?" he asked, a question in his voice making him sound confused rather than curious.
"Bjorn?" I asked again. "Do you remember me?"
He shook his head, his eyes making a valiant attempt to focus on my face before drifting back to the bar. "Yes, you said your…" He trailed off, moving his hand in front of his face in a rhythmic circle as if trying to recall something.
"Bjorn," I said, my concern deepening. Was he on drugs? This wasn't just alcohol. Something else was going on. I focused my mana on perception, wondering if he was under some sort of spell, though I couldn't see anything in particular affecting him. There was no illusion magic or anything around his eyes, and I couldn't sense anything wrong in his brain, though I wouldn't be able to tell for sure. I was no healer.
"Bjorn, it's Miles," I said, reminding him. "We were in the Lesser Hall together. We went through the challenge for the first time together."
He snapped his fingers with a loud crack, though no one else in the tavern reacted. "Ah, yeah. Miles. I remember. Where've you been?"
I looked at him, sadness tugging at my chest. "What happened to you, Bjorn?"
Bjorn gave me a lopsided smile. "The best thing, man," he said, drawing out the word "man" in a way that reminded me of hippies from the '60s. Was he stoned? It wasn't just that, though. There was something else. Bjorn was clearly not in good shape.
"You work at the bar now? Do you still do the challenge?" I asked, not able to imagine him being able to fight like he was now.
Bjorn shook his head. "Nah. Malik puts me through once a month, as long as I keep making them tips," he said, leaning sideways onto the counter. His eyes trailed across the bottles behind him and down to the kegs. "You want a drink, man? I can give you one at the house for a friend."
I nodded. "Sure. Just give me a straight ale."
"Sure thing," he said, moving slowly to pick up a glass and fill it for me. I sniffed at the drink, concerned it might be poisoned or laced with something, but it seemed clean. My confidence in getting any useful information from Bjorn was nearing zero.
"Hey, I'm looking for the rest of the team," I said, trying to steer the conversation. "Remember? Helga, Jonas, Astrid?”
Bjorn nodded slowly. "Yeah," but didn't elaborate.
"Uh, where are they?" I asked, trying to ignore the dopey smile on his face. It physically pained me to see my once-boisterous friend in this state. Had he really fallen on hard times? Was he addicted to some substance? Was he happy like this? Was he being forced? I knew he had a problem with alcohol, but this was something else.
Bjorn blinked slowly. "Jonas and Helga…" He trailed off again, giving me a knowing wink. I frowned, not having seen that development coming. "Astrid," he said, shrugging, "she's somewhere."
I frowned, not particularly appreciating the lack of detail, but I couldn't focus on that now. I needed information—a way to finish the challenge and get levels and power. I needed to know more about this place. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that unless I wanted to start from scratch, I would have to rely on Loki. If my friends weren't going to be reliable, I had no choice.
I stood up, leaving my beer untouched. "I'll track down Jonas and Helga next. If they're together, maybe they'll be in better shape to explain things."
I shook my head, bidding Bjorn farewell, though he barely seemed to notice. I promised myself that I would check on him later. If he needed help, I'd give it, but if he was here by choice… I grimaced, recalling friends from my college days who had gone down a similar path. I hadn't been able to help them either.
Following the vague pull of the locator amulet, I turned back toward the lower-level areas of the city.
