The Mimic in Monsterland

“And we are sure sending one of my most promising if too naive, squad captains into the Gloom was the best course of action?” Jaren said to Leonard while jumping out of the way of an approaching fireball. Len prepped another one before Jaren could advance too much.

The two were in the training room of the guild hall. Having a light spar while the kids were away.

Jaren swung his double blade, aiming for Len’s carotid artery. Len deftly dodged under the swing, sending a heatwave back at Jaren.

“Oh, I’m sure he’s not in any danger,” Len answered.

Jaren shouldered the heat blast. It blasted him a few feet across the floor. He swung out once more, a green blade of energy flying from the strike.

“You know I’m not worried about his safety. I didn’t make the kid a squad captain just because I like him. He is one of the best natural-born fighters I’ve had the pleasure of training. No one in the squad around his level has bested him in a sparring match yet. First Ones know I wouldn’t want to fight him.”

Len sprouted a wall of fire from the ground, canceling the energy blade coming his way. Then sent the wall of flames hurtling toward Jaren with a snap.

“Scared of our little protege?” Len asked mockingly.

Jaren hopped above the oncoming flame wall and sliced down at Len as he fell. Len caught the double blade with a small ball of fire he held in his palm, holding back the larger man’s advance.

“Not at all, not at his current level, he’s only level eight. I wouldn’t be able to hold back if we did fight for real. His stamina regen would probably let him fight for hours on end. Even I would get tuckered out before that long. Top that with his primary stats of strength and constitution, you have what I believe is referred to as an immovable object.”

Len ignited the flame between the two blasting both him and Jaren to other sides of the training room.

“The kid’s an endless ball of energy, I give you that.”

Jaren stuck the blade into the ground, signifying he was done. The two had been sparring for the past two hours. He spun around and grabbed one of the water cups that were waiting for them on the counter.

He chugged some down. “There ain’t many thugs there that he couldn't handle. No, I mean the entire atmosphere there might be a bit much for his gentle personality.”

Len walked to the counter and picked up a cup as well. “I disagree. There’s something buried deep in him. I’m not sure what it is; he hides it well, but the Gloom is great for making you face your demons. And he needs to get used to it. He and the others have work to do there.”

Len drank from his cup. “Besides he will do fine with the Aura control drilled into him by Daila. Better than you, that’s for sure.”

Jaren scratched the back of his head. “Yeah. No denying that one. I’m still not sure how long I stayed at Juli’s. Might be time for another visit.” A rakish grin formed on his face.

“What would Daila think of that, my friend?” Len teased before taking another sip.

Jaren’s response was only an eye roll. “Oh by the way, what was in that note you're having him deliver?”

“Some instructions.”

Jaren finished his second glass of water. He wiped his mouth. “Another test of some sort no doubt.”

——

Ingrid slinked out of the shadows into the light of the lamp post, slowly and cautiously approaching the dwarf she’d been watching for the last hour. When she could afford to, she liked making her contacts wait. She could tell a lot about a person when they sat around doing nothing.

Plus this young dwarf intrigued her. From her perspective in the tree, this little guy was taking a beating. Until out of nowhere he just hauls off and destroys one of Mort’s minions. And then patches him up.

Mort won’t take kindly to one of his top collectors getting beat that badly. His power in the Gloom comes from his perceived untouchable nature. If news gets out that a young kid did this, Mort will have to retaliate.

Not that she cared all that much. It wasn’t her problem.

“Are you the one Ainsworth sent?” She asked, making sure her hood didn’t reveal her face.

The dwarf looked anxiously at her before answering. “Y-yes.” He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a slightly crumpled roll of paper. “Here, I was told to give this to you.” The blonde dwarf held the scroll out to her.

She grabbed it quickly and unfurled it.

Hello, mysterious girl of the Gloom. The wonderful young man in front of you is named Fennel. Great kid. Now as per our oral contract, You need to make sure he gets out of the Gloom. By the end of the night. If you want the rest of the payment that is. Do try to keep him out of trouble. He is quite good at finding it.

Toodles

Her mouth opened just a hair. Every preconceived idea and image of the great Leonard Ainsworth was getting systematically demolished with each interaction with him. I mean toodles. Really? What grown man, a man said to have bested thousands of monsters and countless bosses, ends a correspondence with toodles?

She shook her head in disappointment. The dwarf’s head tilted to the side, his eyes locked on the paper. He looked like he was burning on the inside to ask what was in the note.

Definitely right about his nose for trouble. The idiot went and made an enemy of Mort in under ten minutes. All over some beggar with a gambling problem.

She looked over the dwarf. He didn’t seem tired whatsoever from his previous tussle. And no major wounds anywhere. Well if you’re gonna be dumb, you better be tough I guess.

She tucked the note away in her cloak before speaking to him again. “Let’s go.” She turned and started walking back to Main Street.

“Wait. Wait a second.” The young dwarf called after her. He ran in front of where she was heading and put out his hand. “I said wait. Where are we going and what did that note say?”

She heaved a hefty sigh. “You are getting out of the Gloom and back to your cozy home. The note’s not important in the slightest.” She hated how true that statement was. But that wasn’t any of his business.

The dwarf rubbed his forehead. “Fine. But we can’t head back to the entrance. I wasn’t checked in.”

“And why the hell not?”

His answer came in the form of a shrug, because why wouldn’t it? She was of half a mind to leave the sod right then and there. But she would never leave money lying on the table. He is small, a little wide but he might fit. No reason not to try.

The dwarf spoke up while she was formulating the escape plan. “So…my name is Fennel. What's yours?” He extended his hand.

She just looked at it and scoffed. “Reading the room isn’t in the training book for you raid boys eh? The whole clandestine meeting and mystery scroll didn’t spell it out for you? This is a one-time thing. I didn’t want to know your name, I sure as shit don't want you to know mine.” She scoffed again.

“Well still, no reason to be rude about it.” He said pouting.

She was about to tell him to follow her, but her ears twitched. Footsteps, a lot of them, coming from each exit of the plaza.

Shit. She turned to look at her charge. His ears were perked as well, seeming to have picked up on the situation. She grabbed his shirt and dragged him to the tree she sat in earlier. She unconsciously hid her presence but noticed that her companion didn’t. His breathing was fast and loud.

“Quiet now.”

She led him to a makeshift hatch she used to get into the plaza. The wooden fence led to an alley. Some doofus knocked a hole in the bottom of it. It was very poorly patched back together with some loose boards. The only issue was it made some noise opening it. Something loud enough for one of these people to notice. And she was sure Mort brought his scout with him.

A loud raspy voice came from the street closest to them, the one leading to Mort’s hideout.

“He’s right over here. He talked of destroying your whole crew. Something along the lines of taking over your territory. Claiming the Gloom is his now. Here, here, this is where he left your bodyguard.”

The dog-eared dwarf’s mouth hung open when he saw who was speaking. It was the old man he protected earlier. Ingrid watched the old bastard run away right when Fennel slammed his opponent's face into the street. She thought it was because the old man had it in his head that Fennel would ask for some compensation. What she hadn’t expected was for him to flee straight to Mort. Probably trying to get Mort to forgive some of the debt. Or lend him more money. Slimy jackass.

“I didn’t say a single thing like that. I was trying to help.” The dwarf whispered in disbelief.

Ingrid shushed him. She saw Mort slither into the light, wearing his usual creepy thin smile. He inspected his fallen crony. He picked up the man’s broken horn. He threw right at the Minotauran’s chest. The man coughed and slumped down again.

Anger seethed in Mort’s eyes. He spoke up. “Scout! Search the area. Find this challenger.”

She saw the tall lanky elf with antennae walk into the center of the plaza. The antennae began to glow and shift around. She was safe, her presence concealment always trumped whatever ability he was using. But the elf’s head swiveled right in her direction.

“But how?” She looked over. Damn it. The dwarf.

He coughed once. The elf pointed right in their direction now. “Over there boss, someone’s hiding in the bushes by that tree.”

Mort smirked and turned his head to the growing group of henchmen. “Go.”

Ingrid grabbed the dwarf’s shirt. “Move.”

She hurried to the wooden fence and kicked the broken boards she used as the hatch.

“Run!”