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Balticon Schedule 2014

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I’ll be returning as a guest to Balticon 48!  Here’s where you can find me:

  • Podcasting 101 (Panel) (Participant), Fri 19:00 – 19:50, Derby (Hunt Valley Inn)
  • Conducting Podcast Interviews (Panel) (Participant), Sat 11:00 – 11:50, Chesapeake (Hunt Valley Inn)
  • GLBT Issues in YA Fantasy and SF (Panel) (Participant), Sat 18:00 – 18:50, Parlor 1026 (Hunt Valley Inn)
  • Podcasters Against Humanity (Panel) (Moderator), Sat 23:00 – 23:50, Chesapeake (Hunt Valley Inn)
  • Dueling Drabbles (Panel) (Moderator), Sun 14:00 – 14:50, Parlor 1041 (Hunt Valley Inn)
  • Storytelling in Video Games (Panel) (Participant), Sun 17:00 – 17:50, Derby (Hunt Valley Inn)
  • Social Media Promotion (Panel) (Participant), Sun 20:00 – 20:50, Chesapeake (Hunt Valley Inn)
  • The Street/Freelance Hunters Launch (Panel) (Moderator), Sun 22:00 – 23:50, Parlor 1041 (Hunt Valley Inn)

I’ll be blogging about Balticon in more depth as the Con gets closer.  I hope to see you there!

Elanterra Journal 006: The Half Elves

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Although they aren’t officially one of the Five Peoples, Half Elves represent a sizable population in Elanterra, and their numbers seem to be growing rapidly. Legends indicate that the earliest Half-Elves were scions of romantic pairings between Elves and Humans, often chivalrous Human knights and fair Elven maidens, whom they rescue from some danger or other. In these tales, the pairing is always stressed as taboo, and the couple brings disaster upon themselves by eloping. The child is left an orphan, and either becomes a great hero or, more often, a terrible villain. What historical records survive are sketchy at best, but paint a similar picture. Elves, for all their self-proclaimed Immortality, fare poorly outside of their forests. They sicken, rot, or kill themselves, usually within a few decades of leaving the Ironwood. Sometimes they simply disappear, abandoning their human spouse and children. These trysts are becoming more and more rare as the years pass, but it is not uncommon for an Elven ‘Ambassador’ to leave a clutch of bastards in his wake after his assignment is completed. These unfortunate mothers and their children are often exiled when their crime comes to light. In some Human kingdoms the children are even drowned, a practice which draws no comment at all from the Elves.

Half-Elves are tall, thin beings whose appearance draws about equally from their heritage. Half Elves are especially long lived, aging at about a third the rate of a normal human once they reach puberty. Half-Elves can usually be found in the great cities, where they band together for mutual protection. They are considered monstrosities by their Elven kin, and far less than Human as well. Half Elves are effectively a slave caste in many Human kingdoms, ranking even lower than serfs. Since they are stronger than they appear and live long lives, they are often used in the most dangerous jobs, such as mining and sailing.

Even with their high mortality rates, Half Elves reproduce at a similar rate to humans, but remain fertile for most of their long lives. It is not uncommon for a Half Elf matron to be caring for five or even six generations of grandchildren. Humans try and tightly control Half Elf families, for fear that they will be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

“Free” Half Elves in the great cities still find themselves to be the victims of prejudice, since they are the product of a taboo pairing. Higher education and skilled labor are usually denied them, and many turn to underground or criminal organizations for support. It is said that a Half Elf, given enough time, can get you anything, if you pay their price.

Compiler’s Note: The Half-Elves have suffered greatly over the centuries, bing the arrow fodder of every army, working the most uncomfortable and dangerous jobs, and suffering innumerable degradations. It is distasteful to say, but a Human who disdains a Half Elf for the ‘unnatural acts’ of her parents will often not think twice of taking one against her will as ‘spoils of war.’ The Half Elves wait, and maintain their population. And those outside the Human kingdoms wonder when the Half Elves’ anger will turn to violence.–G. B.

 

Fiction: The Space War

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The Space War began twenty-five light years from Earth. Mankind had never actually managed to figure out a way past the speed of light, so our exploration of the stars progressed slowly, with whole generations losing contact with home just to set foot on the soil of distant worlds. The first dozen or so missions visited dead, Mars-like worlds, and the general public lost interest in deep space exploration. Then, the Hawking IV craft was lost.

The initial reaction was one of puzzlement and sadness at the tragedy, though no one could confirm what, exactly, the tragedy was from sifting through the quarter-century old data. The Hawking V was sent to continue the mission, with special cameras designed to record everything the crew saw. Before it too was destroyed, it sent back murky, unfocused footage of an attacking space craft.

There was a tightly controlled panic in Mission Command. The enemy craft had been too quick to film, and overwhelmingly powerful. The Hawking wasn’t able to gather much data before it was destroyed, but two things were clear: We weren’t alone in the universe, and the company wasn’t friendly. The distance between stars made communication with our own ships nearly impossible. Finding a way to speak with the aliens was out of the question. Eventually, they decided that war was the only option.

The carefully released information caused a predictable wave of chaos and fear, but in the wake of the riots, mankind showed a resolve it never had before. All of humanity banded together, buried their differences, and worked together to protect themselves. The next few decades saw huge advances in scientific achievement. Humanity built a great fleet of warships that would travel far out into space, and face our unknown enemy. Outposts were built, and we made ourselves ready for the coming conflict. More ships were mysteriously lost.

Finally, there was the ultimate breakthrough. A team of scientists developed a method of time-travel that would allow troops and armaments to seem to go faster than the speed of light. The next fleet could arrive as soon as it left, or even before it was built! The war could be over in months instead of years. The generals in command agreed to the plan. Earth and its neighbors were nearly stripped bare to provide resources for it. If mankind was safe at last, the cost would be worth the price.

After ten years of work, the scientists unveiled their finished time machine. The ship was sleek and fast. It was outfitted with bleeding edge weapons technology. Due to the stresses of time travel, the ship was unmanned. It launched to its destination, and transmitted instantaneous data back to Command. There was a ship at the coordinates. The generals and scientists were ecstatic. When they saw the vessel clearly, however, their joy turned to shock. The vessel had Hawking IV, IDSA stenciled in bright white letters on the side. For they had met the enemy…

 

The Canals of Mars

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The first humans on Mars had a good idea of what to expect. Or at least they thought they knew. The canals had been well studied by robot and remote camera before any boots hit the red, rocky soil. The evidence for and against the habitation of Mars had been studied, and the papers had settled the question. Science had proven that Humanity was alone in the solar system. Except for maybe Ganymede, of course. But while science was sure that the famous canals were a natural formation, the team was unable to explain the presence of the water skis.

Elanterra Journal 005: The Elves

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The Elves, the Forest People, dwell almost exclusively in the massive Ironwood, a sea of trees which dominates Elanterra’s South-Eastern peninsula. Very few outsiders have ever stood at the heart of the Elven holdings, and their stories are often contradictory. What is known for certain is that the Ironwood is a natural fortress of maze-like trails, bloodthirsty animals and plants, and wild magic. To enter their domains without Elven guides is fatal.

The Elves are taller than a human, but usually very thin. Their features are delicate and beautiful. They claim to be ageless, although little proof exists to support this claim. Elves are greatly skilled at magic, but only practice the skill with other peoples reluctantly. Their use of magic is highly religious, and they claim that other practitioners somehow misuse ‘the gifts of the Mother.’ Whether this refers to the earth itself or to their mysterious Goddess is unclear.

ALthough they are not welcoming hosts, some Elves have engaged with the rest of Elanterra. They are strong supporters of the Alliance, and dutifully send ambassadors across the Island. The nature of these diplomatic visits causes the Elves to be seen as haughty and intrusive to the other Peoples.

There is a great benefit to these travels, however. Elves have laid roads across the island that are strong, wide, and easy to navigate. Trade and travel flourish along these byways, and banditry is almost unheard of. They even engage in some trade with Ferros, selling their Ironwood, which is said to have many great qualities, to the Dwarves for precious metals and gems.

Elves have the dubious distinction of being the only people able to mate successfully with Humans. The Half-Elves, as they are called, are shunned by both societies, and Elves known to consort with Humans are exiled. They rarely live long outside of their forest homes, but Half-Elves are becoming more and more common in the Great Cities.

Compiler’s Note: Aside from their seat on the Council of Five Peoples, the Elves have completely retreated beyond the reach of other Peoples. Even then, they say little and do nothing more than watch. The reasons for their withdrawal are unclear. Some sages theorize that a plague or some other catastrophe has struck the Heartwood. Others claim a political shift. In any case, There have been no corroborated sightings of an Elf outside of Isleheart Castle in more than a century. The Half-Elves only grow more and more common, however, and most sightings of ‘True’ Elves are likely scams perpetrated by their base-born kin.

“Elanterra Journal” is a look into the People, Places, and history of the Island of Elanterra, the setting of the Freelance Hunters stories.   “Glory’s Gauntlet,” an ebook collection of four Freelance Hunters shorts, is available from Amazon and Smashwords.

Hugh Likes Comics: Loki, Agent of Asgard

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Image

Written by: Al Ewing

Drawn by: Lee Garbett

Published by Marvel Comics

Loki’s had a strange time of it lately in the Marvel Universe. He’s died, come back to life, co-starred in a few hit movies you might have seen, and was even on a team of (Young) Avengers. Now Marvel has given him his own series, and it’s great stuff.

As a God of Lies and Mischief, Loki understands the power of stories better than anybody, and there is a lot of information floating around about Loki’s past. That past could destroy him if he’s not careful, so he’d like to take it back. The only ones powerful enough to expunge his record is the All-Mother, a trio of ruling goddesses. So Loki’s out in the world working for them doing what he does best: making mischief.

This is a very modern take on an old character, and I love it. It’s written with fans of the movies in mind, but it reminds me a lot more of one of my favorite books, American Gods by Neil Gaiman. Forced to interact more closely with the modern world, Ewing’s Loki feels much closer to his mythical roots than Lee and Kirby’s God of Evil.

It helps that Ewing’s take springs right out of Young Avengers Vol. 3, which was my favorite comic of last year. Loki’s smart, clever, and more than a bit mysterious. He’s out robbing casinos, climbing Avengers Tower with his Seven-League Boots, and even going speed dating! My favorite bit is a spot of panels where someone sees Loki in his Asgardian clothes and asks if he came from a Con. He smiles and says “There’s always a con going on somewhere.” This comic is pure fun.

Garbett’s art is great as well, with beautiful colors by Nolan Woodard. Everything looks, well, magical, with clear but stylish layouts and splash pages. There is a bit in the third issue where Loki travels magically, and actually crosses through the gutters. It is a very cool effect.

This is a series full of myths, mystery, cleverness, and a joy. Loki’s got a plan, and it looks like it’s going to bring him into the crosshairs of ancient hero Sigurd. I can’t wait to see what the Trickster’s got up his sleeve.

Loki Agent of Asgard 1-3 is available from Your Local Comics Shop, and digitally from Comixology. And don’t forget, Saturday May 3rd is FREE COMIC BOOK DAY!

Hugh Likes Comics Classic: Nextwave: Agents of HATE

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Image

Written by Warren Ellis

Drawn by Stuart Immonen

Published by Marvel Comics

 

2006’s “Nextwave: Agents of H.A.T.E.” is the best super-hero comic nobody read. It’s a cynical, action-heavy book about washout super-heroes that will teach you to love again. The Nextwave Squad were going to be the elite Super-hero team of the Highest Anti-Terrorism Effort. (H.A.T.E.) Until, that is, they discovered that H.A.T.E. is a front for the Beyond Corporation, a rebranded terrorist organization interested in field testing bizarre weapons of mass destruction on American Soil. They go rogue, steal an experimental aircraft, and set to work stopping H.A.T.E.

“Nextwave” was a comic ahead of its time. A parody of Marvels greatest excesses, it recast five c-list heroes as scenery chewing, trench-coat wearing action stars with severe personality issues. At a time when Marvel was pitching overblown crossovers like “Civil War,” Ellis boiled it down, doing short, fun action movies in two issues. These story’s were thrilling, easily digestible, and more importantly, irreverent. In the main universe, Marvel’s heroes were making gritty choices and compromising their ethics fro security. Nextwave was kicking broccoli-based HR Robots until they exploded.

Immonen’s art, which is absolutely gorgeous, helps. It’s as bright and beautiful as story is darkly comedic. Every kick and explosion is delivered with aplomb. The characters all have a manic gleam in their eye and a middle finger thrust towards convention.

Even the editorial team was in on the joke, with a letter page written by a delusional mail-sorting machine. “Nextwave” even had its own theme song, with the lyrics printed in issue one, and an MP3 recorded by editor Nick Lowe’s band “Thunder Thighs.”

“Nextwave: Agents of H.A.T.E” was a sly, silly, chop-socky gem of a series, and it remains a cult favorite. You can pick it up in trade omnibus from your local shop, or in digital issues from Comixology.

Nice Kicks!-April, 2014

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I love crowd-funding!  It combines the heart-warming pleasure of supporting friends and projects I believe in with the thrill of gambling on a project’s success.  Here are my latest finds:

Queen City Conquest:

Hosted by Mark and Chris from the Misdirected Mark Podcast, Queen City Conquest is a 3-day table-top gaming convention in Buffalo, NY. It’s a smaller, more intimate convention, and a lot of fun. This year’s con is going to fall on September 19th-21st, so of course they’re going to have a pirate theme. They are mostly looking for pre-sale tickets and sponsors, but if you are near the Buffalo area, back this project and come game with me!

 

Make Movie Fighters Free:

Another podcast related project, “Movie Fighters” is a premium bad-movie podcast hosted by Matt Wilson and Chris Sims of War Rocket Ajax. They began the ‘cast as an incentive when their sponsoring site, Comics Alliance, briefly shut its doors. Every episode, they watch a b-movie of a certain style, and follow up with an in-depth review. They’ve watched live-action video game adaptations, wrestling movies, and the worst in holiday films. The original cast was hosted on Band Camp, which is not a great system for longer podcast files. They want to move the podcast onto iTunes, and this project will pay for another year of terrible cinema expirences.

 

Storium:

Storium is an online game that combines storytelling with tabletop RPG elements to let groups of people make their own stories. I’m not exactly sure how this is going to work in practice, but the game has support from some of my absolute favorite new writers. Mur Lafferty, Saladin Ahmed, and Chuck Wendig are all providing settings for the game, amongst others. Have you and your friends ever wanted to play in the head of your favorite author? Storium looks like your chance.

 

Ginnie Dare: Blockade Runner:

On the Indiegogo side of the fence, Scott Roche is crowdfunding the sequel to his original all-ages Sci-fi novel Ginnie Dare: Crimson Sands. I greatly enjoyed the first one, and am excited for Ginnie’s next adventure.

 

Hugh Likes Comics: Rat Queens

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ratqueens

Written by Kurtis J. Wiebe

Drawn by Roc Upchurch

Published by Image Shadowline

Perhaps I wanted to like “Rat Queens” a bit more than I did. It’s a very good book, make no mistake. The art is gorgeous in an ultra-violent sort of way, the characters are interesting, diverse, and well-used, and the action is intense. But there’s just something about this comic that didn’t impress me as much as I hoped it would.

It sounds like I’m damning this book with faint praise, and I suppose I am. It is a gory, snarky ‘Swords and Sassery’ comic in the exact same vein as Jim Zubb and Edwin Huang’s ‘Skull Kickers.” Unfortunately, it doesn’t quite hit its beats as well.

The eponymous Rat Queens are a quartet of adventuring ladies in the familiar mold: Dwarf Fighter, Human Cleric, Elf Wizard, and Smidgen (I E Halfling) Rogue. They, and the rest of the adventuring parties, are causing a problem for the town of Palisade. All they do is drink and fight, and it’s hurting property values. When the local Captain sends them all out on quests to get them out of his hair, the Rat Queens soon discover that they’ve been set up, and assassins are on their trail.

The dialogue is snappy, filthy, and funny, but the plot is pretty bare-bones. It feels a bit too caught up in the conventions of a certain unnamed table-top Role Playing Game. While the comic starts out as a parody there comes a point where you’re not lamp-shading tropes, you’re just using them. I think that’s what disappoints me about this comic. It’s so gamey that it doesn’t have much weight to it, even when extras are being cut in half and stabbed in the eye. There’s not any real conflict in all this slaughter. I’d have liked the Rat Queens to have come up against something a bit more epic. This first volume is all random encounters.

I do like the fact that Wiebe and Upchurch really put some thought into the design and structure of the world, giving it a real multicultural feel without seeming as forced as the other aspects. The all-female team of adventurers is not presented as strange or even particularly transgressive in the world of the comic. This doesn’t just apply to gender roles, either. Race in Palisade means a bit more than white with pointed ears or white with a beard and a highlands accent. “Rat Queens” presents modern fantasy pulp perfectly by including modern gender and racial equality, and never even calling attention to itself for it. Diversity can be a touchy subject in science fiction and fantasy, with a small but vocal minority demanding the ‘authenticity’ of confirming a bias towards Straight, White and Male. The Rat Queens are here to kick ass and quaff ale, and they don’t care how much blood gets on their outfits. That’s really refreshing, if messy.

“Rat Queens” is a style-over-substance battlefield romp with four lady mercenaries who say ‘fuck.’ Quite a lot, actually. It’s not for kids, but it is an entertaining but character-sheet thin comic for adults. If you’re caught up on “Skull Kickers” and nostalgic for your multi-sided dice, “Rat Queens” might be the comic you’re looking for.

 

Fiction: The Freelance Hunters in “The Gold Equations”

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Thanks again to everyone who gave a review or spread the word about Glory’s Gauntlet.  Here’s a brand-new short story featuring our not-quite-noble heroes!

The Gold Equations

With a final howl of rage and pain, the beast died on the tip of Incisor. When it fell limp, Joachim pulled the magical spear from the thing’s heart, and stared down at it. He watched the still form and weathered the rush of emotion and sensation he always felt after a battle. The Filcher did not seem quite so monstrous now, clearly visible under the torchlight. It was not a creature made for fighting.

It was a chimera, a monster created by magic from the parts of several beings. It had the mottled wings of an owl, patterned in gray, brown and black. Its teeth and claws had a rodent-like quality, for climbing and gnawing through any obstacles. It had the delicate limbs and body structure of a great cat, and the face and hands were distinctly humanoid.

The creature had never spoken, but Joachim could sense the intelligence in it. The Filcher was something of a local legend. As the name implied, it was a tool created for the purpose of sneaking into villages or country estates and stealing valuables. Over the years, many attempts had been made to track down and kill the beast, but even sightings of it had been rare enough that it was still considered a myth by most. One nobleman, the Duke Hideikon, was so certain he was plagued by the beast that he had hired the Freelance Hunters to bring back the creature’s head. But the small retainer he had offered was nothing compared to what they found in the beast’s underground lair.

They had tracked it though fens and swamps to a chamber hollowed out beneath a pair of huge, skeletal trees. The tiny entrance was nearly impossible to spot, but Glory moved the earth with her magic, and Bingo had secured a rope. Joachim had climbed down and finished the beast. His surprise at finding such a huge space under the swamp was nothing compared to what filled it.

Everywhere Joachim shone his torch, the flame was reflected in gleaming gold. Coins of every denomination had once been scrupulously piled against the cave walls, but their sheer number had collapsed them into massive heaps. There were other precious things as well: Statutes and carvings, bits of gleaming dress armor, paintings rotting and mildewed in gilt frames, an armory’s worth of ceremonial swords and daggers inlaid with silver, and a small pile of gems, in an endless variety of color, cut and clarity. And in the center of the room, a skeleton in tattered robes. Glory stood over it, making notes. She had the faraway look in her eye that told Joachim that she was examining the corpse with a wizard’s sight.

“Judging by the amount of residual ley connections between the corpse and the chimera, I think we can assume he was its creator,” she said.

“Can you figure what offed the sparker?” Bingo asked. He paused in his inspection of the cave. The space was a hollow of earth and rock, probably not all-together naturally formed. It was nearly invisible, and almost dry when the Filcher was using it as a lair, but they had widened the entrance, and a steady stream of water and mud had begun to collect in the basin.

“I think he was killed by his own creation. Look at the rough treatment of the clothing. The chimera stripped him of anything valuable and then continued with its programming.”

“Wait,” Joachim said. He had never been quick to grasp the workings of magic. “Are you saying this was a mage-made creature?” Glory sighed and dusted off her hands on her coat.

“Obviously. Just look at it. It was clearly a creature stitched together for the purpose of creating a perfect thief. And the bastard used a Hillfolk to do it. I’m almost sad I didn’t get my hands on him myself. This is the grossest misuse of magic.”

“So he flashes up this side-show attraction, trains it to prig, and then gets owned by his own monster? Is that even legit?” Bingo asked.

“I’m no expert in Chimerstry, but from what little I’ve studied, I’d have thought it impossible. Chimeras aren’t technically alive. They’re basically golems made out of different animal parts and patched together with healing magic. So most would be programmed not to harm their creators, but this one obviously had some very specific programming as well.”

“Such as, ‘Defend the horde from anyone who enters?'” offered Joachim.

“Quite so. And when he came to collect the treasure the Filcher stole, it must have been unable to resolve the contradiction and went berserk. Foolish, really.”

“But his loss is our gain, right?” Joachim said, rubbing his hands together in excitement. There was enough treasure here to set all three of them up for life!” His companions shared an embarrassed look.

“Joachim, I don’t think you’ve considered the Gold Equations,” Glory said. A new fall of mud and earth splashed to the cave floor, as if to punctuate her sentence. Monsters and traps brought many would-be adventurers to an early end, but nothing killed one surer than greed.

“A treasure hunter can only leave with as much as he can carry safely,” he said, as though quoting from a shared text. “Of course, but look at it all! We can’t just leave it here!” Glory brushed some mud from her sleeve and fixed him with a hard look.

“How do you expect to get it out of here, then? Our only exit is up a long rope tied to a dead tree.”

Bingo pulled a foot-long sword with a saw-like blade out of his pack and handed it to the wizard. Then he took the warrior aside.

“Joachim, We’ve been out here bug-hunting for a week. Going crow-wise back to the apple-sellers will take at least to days. The rainy season’s coming on, and we Jemmied the area but good getting down here. We’re out of time, mate.” He splashed his boots in the ankle high water to emphasize his point.

“But there has to be another entrance. The filcher got this much treasure in, after all,” Joachim protested.

“A kennuck a time adds up over forty years. It busts me, too. If there was another seeker out of here, I would’ve Palled it.” Glory carefully handed the short sword over to Joachim. The blade was glowing white hot. Raindrops sizzled where they struck it. He stared at it for a moment before starting to work freeing the head from the Filcher’s neck.

“Alright, what about magic, Glory? Can we shrink it all down, maybe? Or make it lighter than air?” Glory rolled her eyes behind his back.

“That’s not really an option. First of all, Gold is an element. That’s much more difficult to alter than a compound substance.”

“What, like Earth and Fire?” She sighed.

“It’s a different kind of element. You know what, never mind. I could do it, but we don’t have the time, and besides, the gold would be worthless afterwards.”

“Why?” The idea of worthless gold had no place in Joachim’s head.

“Alchemy, man! She wasn’t the first magician to try and get rich quick through magic. It’s not exactly honest, but turning base metals into valuable ones is one of the cornerstones of the discipline. Bankers started looking for the signs, and an honest one wont touch so much as a coin if there is magic on it.”

“But, gold is gold, isn’t it?”

“Would you trust coins a magician gave you?” He didn’t have to think about that one.

“I see your point, but we’ve got a few minutes, surely?”

“This place was kept dry by spells tied to the Filcher. Now that it’s dead, everything’s gone unstable, and water will go the path of least resistance.”

“You mean, we’re about to be flooded down here.” He sighed, and went back to work removing the head from the Filcher’s shoulders.

“Exactly. How’s that head, coming. We can carry that out, at least.” He finished chopping the head off of the monster and shoved it into a sack. At least their reward would cover the trip’s expenses.

The earth was dripping and sliding all around them, now. Piles of treasure were swallowed up one after another, and Joachim found himself unable to do a thing to stop them. He let his companions, being much shorter than himself, climb up the rope out first. The mud was up to his waist by the time he started his own escape. He heard the groan of roots slipping in the mud under his weight, smelled the damp rushing of water and soil. He felt his dirty hands slip on the wet rope several times. It was as harrowing an escape as he had ever attempted in his days as a mercenary, and by the time he reached the surface as was back in the storm with the other Freelance Hunters, there was nothing left but a watery sink hole beneath a pair of dead oaks.

Joachim stared down at the hole for a long time, knowing it was impossible to go back, but unable to leave the treasure behind.

“There was enough down there to live a soft for a dozen lifetimes,” he said. Bingo came up beside him and clapped him on the back. It was a long reach for the Hillfolk.

“Like you’d be able to settle down,” he smirked. That got him to smile, at least.

“Maybe,” he admitted.

“You win some, you lose some,” Glory said. “Those are just the way the Gold Equations play out. You can’t spend what you drown trying to carry. We completed the mission, and we’ll be set for a little while when we get back to the Duke. He’ll show us his gratitude, and I have a few things I can look up when we get back to the city. It wasn’t a total waste.”

“True, but there was an entire fortune down there,” Joachim muttered petulantly.

“I wouldn’t say an entire one,” Bingo said. He reached into his jacket and with a flourish like a stage conjurer, produced an emerald the size of an apple. “I pulled this while you and the wizard were debating the Gold Equations.” He winked.

While the Duke was not as quite as generous with his gratitude as they hoped, the Freelance Hunters still managed to winter very comfortably that year. When they passed by his estates the next spring, the swamp was completely unrecognizable, and they could not find the site of the Filcher’s nest. To this day it has never been found, but it remains a topic of local interest, and occasionally an old coin is discovered in a stream or under a field. They are considered practically magical by the villagers, and are said to change the fate of whoever finds one.

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