Val returned to the Chimera's Den after finishing his meal with Harken. Whatever it was that he wanted, the emblem he had given proved to be real so far. He had stopped by the training grounds in the basement before returning. When he showed the emblem to the receptionist barring entry, the poor man nearly tripped over his chair, scrambling to open the door himself.
It was a reasonable distance from Boldir's tavern to Harken's office and headquarters, though, twenty to thirty minutes by foot, depending on the route. It was well out of the way compared to Joanne's and even Durimarr's workshops. However, being near the center of the city, it seemed nothing was much further than thirty minutes from the headquarters save for the most peripheral of areas.
Upon entering the inn, as Val expected, considering it was nearly seven, Huginn and Muninn were snacking on the remains of dinner, while Asha was again trying to get drunk on his tab. Wherever she had disappeared to during the day, evidently, she had now deemed it safe to return.
"Hey, you missed all the fun today, Joanne missed you terribly." Val remarked dryly, taking a seat at the bar.
"Mmm, I'll swing by when she's cooled off a bit." By her mood, Val figured Asha was one or two drinks in so far.
"Fun indeed, how's Harken doing?" Boldir interjected.
Val gaped for a moment. "*You're* following me too?"
"Following is a strange word to use for it. I am merely ensuring my most valuable patron is not being unjustly coerced by the Black Dogs." Boldir feigned innocence, though Asha's ears twitched upon hearing of the mercenary group.
"What does Harken want with you?" Asha asked.
"Know him? I'm not sure, but he gave me this." Val fished out the Black Dog emblem from a pocket, placing it on the bar.
Upon seeing it, Boldir's eyes widened. "Don't lose that, and don't wave it around neither. The gold collar is a special kind of rank in the Black Dogs, something similar to a lieutenant technically. You're a special guest of Harken now, it would appear. You can't command his men, but they sure as hell will bend over backward to avoid offending you."
"I saw that, so outside of his chain of command, but with special privileges."
"Aye, about sums it up. You can purchase goods and services not normally available to regular folk, too. Restricted stock held in backrooms for only those sponsored by the city or its notable established figures. It generally gives you significant clout around here that you would otherwise need a lot of time to gain."
"Nifty, anything I should know about Harken?"
"Hmm, do not let appearances deceive you. Harken may act like a businessman more than he used to, but he did not get to where he is through pure business tactics. He is experienced, and very capable, he's led the Black Dogs from obscurity to renown over the last decade, much of it with his own hands. However, he is trustworthy, has a good memory, and holds much value in one's word."
"Good to know. Anyway, I already ate, but I wanted to let you know where I'd be. Harken allowed me to use his training facilities, and it looks like they have private rooms available there, too. I'm going to go get some training in, anyone want to come with?"
"I'll pass, every time I wander too close, they try to sign me on to their merry band. None of them, Harken especially, seem to understand Elven oaths, thinking it to be something that can be adjusted with coin." Asha dismissively waved her nearly empty mug.
Boldir chuckled. "Ha, Harken would pay an arm and a leg to have a Wind Dancer in his employ. Being a pure-blooded elf is an extravagant bonus, too.
"We will accompany you." Huginn stated flatly, pausing from his meal, Muninn busied herself with her food but nodded just the same.
"Great, if you need me, find me there." Val set off back to the Black Dogs headquarters, Huginn followed immediately, and Muninn caught up to land on her usual spot after snapping up a couple more large chunks of soft pork.
Following the route back, he returned to the Black Dogs and immediately head for the basement. Having committed Val's appearance to memory, the receptionist immediately opened a door leading to the underground facilities. The training grounds were divided into numerous smaller rooms along the sides, with a large hall in the center where many well-fitted mercenaries were training. Sparring, running drills, tactics, formations, whatever the means of practice, all the mercenaries appeared well-trained and professional. Practice arms and other equipment lined the back of the apparent gym.
Val head towards someone who appeared to be lending out special equipment and handling the side rooms from behind a counter.
"What is it?" The man asked gruffly.
"I'd like to borrow one of your private rooms for a few hours."
"Identification?"
Val pulled out the emblem, showing it to the man. His eyes widened slightly, but he otherwise controlled his surprise. Not asking any further questions, he lifted a heavy brass key hanging on the wall behind him.
"Room two on my right, over there." The man gestured to a door along the side.
"Thanks."
"No problem, let me know if you need anything else."
"One question, how private are these rooms?"
The man looked taken aback, worry on his face, but he quickly assuaged Val's concerns. "Completely, sir. Without the key, no one is getting in, and only I've got the spare here. No windows for prying eyes, walls are almost half a meter thick, enchanted for durability and protection from scrying, sturdier than bunkers, for even the most rigorous training. We're not ones to let our hand be shown too easily, you can rest assured."
"Noted, thanks again."
Val walked over, turned the key in the lock, and opened the door to a well lit, spacious hall, similarly lined with equipment and weapon racks. Satisfied, Val closed the door and stepped towards the middle of the hall. The pair of ravens alighted to the floor, scampering off to a safe distance. Muninn looked inclined to doze off for a nap, now stuffed with food, but Huginn held a level gaze to Val.
"What game are you playing exactly?" Huginn suddenly asked.
Val started stretching as he cast a curious gaze at the raven. "What do you mean?"
"While I do not agree, I understand your motivations regarding the monster in the hills. But are you truly so aimless as to only respond to your immediate surroundings? You are beginning to make some interesting friends around here."
Val paused for a moment. "Unusual for you to be interested in my thoughts. Is there something specific you're asking about?"
"You barter information for coin, to fund your efforts to rid the world of threats on a miniscule scale. One wendigo does not make for complete disaster."
Val shrugged. "I did not hand out anything important, and frankly you just made my point in a way. I'm one person, Aurulians have captured hundreds of people, anything I can share, they will find out anyway. Sooner or later our two worlds will blend. The most significant thing I can really do is point the right people in the right direction."
Huginn seemed surprised. "You intend to mediate?"
"Mediate? No, introduce? Maybe. The war is going to end in only a few ways, either a ceasefire and subsequent negotiations, or one party is going to obliterate the other. I'm biased, but I'd hedge my bets with my country. Magic is useful, and powerful, but I've seen enough to know that true experts in its use still don't make up the majority. On our side, though, any able-bodied person can pick up a rifle and be a threat. War won't help us, and it won't help the Aurulians either. Somehow the two worlds need to start talking, fast."
"Hmph, so at least you know the situation." Huginn returned to his thoughts, leaving Val to begin his practice in earnest.
As Val drew his sword, he felt a discomforting tax on his mana reserves; it was something he simply had to adjust to, and his brand warmed, as if in response, to replenish the lost mana. The runes along the sword quickly lit up, smoldering along the length of the blade. Val began to run through his practice, shifting between several forms Valor had been beating into his body. Footwork and steel blended together to form a deadly dance.
The sword felt heavier, yet easier to handle, as if the blade itself was following his will to carry out every motion. The thrill of the sword's new power excited him, reveling as each fiery stroke split the air with satisfying sounds. Val erupted into a faster pace than he had ever accomplished before, letting the sword execute his will upon invisible opponents known only to himself.
*Control your emotions, she responds to your will, you will excite her too much.* Valor spoke through his mind, surprise causing Val to hesitate in his next strike.
*Valor? What do you mean?*
*Tyrfing can be a very demanding mistress, but she gives in equal measure. You are allowing her to drink freely of your power, and she wakes in response. Curb your magic, withdraw your mana and she will return to sleep, lest she drink until you are dry.*
Val paused, doing as instructed, calming his excitement, and clearing his mind. As he curbed his powers, controlling his mana to circulate through himself carefully without leaving him, the runes along the sword dimmed to a faint red-orange color. Curiously, Val took another practice swing, but the now sleeping blade handled much like he was familiar with. It was still a masterwork of steel, but having experienced its wakened state, felt almost uncomfortable asleep.
*So, I channel mana into the sword like I do other runes…* Val thought to himself, studying the sequence extending along the spine.
*A bit more than that, keep her asleep for now, finish your practice, then come see me.* Valor's voice echoed, reminding Val that apparently, the god was now residing in his thoughts too.
Val continued his routine, practicing as he was previously familiar with. After an hour, he had finished enough to be satisfied. He walked over to a corner and took a seat by the ravens.
"I'm going to take a short nap." Val said, closing his eyes, Huginn nodding in understanding.
Clearing his mind, Val focused his attention on the brand, and in moments passed through into its realm.
Upon opening his eyes, once again, Valor was lounging before the brazier, smiling warmly.
"Yo."
"Good evening. Congratulations on rekindling the 'Flame of Valor.'"
"Tyrfing?"
"Indeed, you will understand the moniker fully, in time. Tyrfing remains a shadow of what she once was, but it is an impressive start. You are taking to these powers like a fish in water."
"Is that why you're suddenly in my head whenever you please?"
"Hmm, that's a bit different. It seems you're growing in power more quickly than I expected — owing to your prolonged residence in such a magically rich area. As the brand fuels this space, you gain strength in turn, and this 'bridge' grants me access… Provided you're open to it."
"Huh, alright — wait, the Dwarven city?"
"Indeed, a stronghold built on top of massive deposits of aetherite ores and crystals, produced by its position on top of a ley line intersection deep underground. Many races, especially the Dwarves, are very fond of building their grandest of cities in such places."
"Explains a lot. So what did you call me here for?"
"You have Tyrfing, and you should be fine by tomorrow, you intend to hunt the wendigo again, correct?"
"That's more or less my plan, yes."
"Good, then you stand to benefit from a particular feature of this realm's growing capabilities." Valor stood as he spoke and gestured with his one arm to something in the darkness.
Val's eyes widened in shock as a monstrous creature lumbered out into the light of the brazier. Partially shrouded in strange darkness, it was nonetheless the very image of the wendigo he had previously fought. While the sound of footsteps could be heard, the monster did not seem capable of its trademark howling.
"I thought, considering the circumstances, you could use some practice against a non-humanoid opponent — monsters, if you will."
"You're able to create more than simple arms?"
"It takes some effort, but manipulating this space to animate such a creature is easy enough when your memories of it are so fresh. There are very few laws that can bind this space." Valor created a copy of Tyrfing and handed it to him.
The moment Val took up the sword, the shadowy wendigo lost its patience and charged at him. Taking a stance immediately, Val began to duel with the creature. The footing was considerably easier here, but the wendigo was a frighteningly accurate clone nonetheless. It even had its signature regenerative capabilities, Val saw it more clearly as he took a clawed hand from the monster, only for it to recover it in a few moments.
"Ignite her power and experience the difference." Valor commanded.
Val channeled his magic as if to extend and bridge his arm to the blade through his grip. The runes along the sword flared and smoldered with fire. Power coursing through his body, he dodged another reckless lunge and cleaved its leg off behind the knee. To his satisfaction, the wendigo was not able to regenerate its leg. The shadow-shrouded wendigo thrashed about, the stump of its leg continuing to burn.
Even though the flames did not consume the wendigo, it was a world of difference that it could not heal its wounds. Eager to test this new capability, Val seized the advantage, and soon, the wendigo was covered in wounds and crippled limbs. All of its injuries looked as if faint flames continued to burn and char flesh, coloring the shadowy figure with bright orange cuts. Even after nearly ten minutes had passed, the fire seemed nowhere near extinguished.
Finally satisfied with the gruesome experiment, Val relieved the wendigo of its head, causing the clone to dissolve into shadowy dust.
Valor smiled. "Practice some more, and you will have no trouble with the real thing."
Val practiced with several more clones of the wendigo, Valor instructing him along the way. He was growing very familiar with its various capabilities, particularly its strange, inhuman movements and attack patterns. By the third duel, he was beginning to predict the way it would move by observing the undulating musculature of its limbs.
"I think you are sufficiently prepared now for your task. So, if for no other reason than to ensure you do not lose your edge against a proper opponent…" Valor took up his own blade, readying a stance before Val.