Splinter Angel

Lara, formerly Silvervale, Level 26 Slayer, felt right at home in Misery Splinter. Stinking marshes and frigid swamps infested with demonic rodents — weak individually but unusual in that they swarmed, because of course they did — and with nothing to offer the world at large but a few Delves and an alchemical reagent colloquially known as swamp goop; it was perfect for someone like her. Anybody desperate enough to make a home there, however temporarily, would hardly notice an absolute screw-up like her.

No one except Mabb, of course. She didn't deserve his friendship, but he kept offering it. She couldn't count the number of times her drunken self had been inconsiderate, rude, or downright nasty to him, but he refused to be driven away — though he did insist that he hoped she'd leave one day. She didn't know if it was penance, loneliness, or kindness that kept him by her side, but there he was. No matter how she embarrassed herself, no matter what tavern or ditch he had to drag her out of, he'd always be there in the morning, offering company and a sympathetic ear over breakfast.

She didn't deserve his friendship, but she'd take it. Misery Splinter might be her penance and her plan for the future, but she didn't actually want to be miserable, and having one friend that didn't give up on her at least made life bearable. Not that he could replace Tendy, but that was no fault of his. No one could.

Tendy. Strong, gentle, wicked Tendy, with her soft lips and her voice like birdsong and the most startlingly beautiful eyes Lara had ever seen. Tendy, whom Lara would have followed anywhere, because the space between her arms was all the home she'd needed. Tendy, whom she missed so much that some days all she could do was drink until she couldn't feel anymore. Tendy, who deserved so much better.

Mestendi, who'd been her world until Lara ruined everything and drove her away. She might never get a chance to earn Tendy's forgiveness. She didn't even know where she was; she'd returned to an empty apartment and a letter that basically said, "I can't take this anymore. Farewell." But maybe, just maybe, if she did enough good she might feel like she at least deserved to be forgiven.

Gods, that wasn't a good line of thinking. Lara wished she'd taken a handle of hooch with her. But Mabb wouldn't approve. Worse, he'd be right — the marshes and swamps were no place to wander around drunk. Especially when they had a job to do. People were disappearing. Somebody needed to do something, and it pretty much had to be her. She was, after all, the highest Level combat Classer in the Splinter — as crazy as that was, considering she was only Level 26.

Or so she'd thought. She was only second highest, apparently. Not that she minded. Not really. At the rate they were going, she'd overtake Mabb within the year, anyway. All she had to do was cut back on her drinking a bit — okay, a lot — and stop buying gifts for any pretty girl who made the mistake of coming to the Splinter. And maybe, just maybe, that could be the first step in her no longer being such an absolutely worthless partner who drove everyone away.

Mabb was an excellent companion. They'd spent three days in the swamp at this point, moving between places where people had disappeared and finding nothing but insects and rodents, and Mabb had mostly left Lara to her thoughts. But he was also very perceptive, and whenever Lara started spiraling into one of her black moods he stepped in. He did so now.

"We're coming up on the Resting Giant," he said. "Three of the people who vanished in the swamp, and two who disappeared after returning to the outpost, had that as their last known destination. What do you suggest?"

"The Giant?" Lara said, coming back to reality. "Well, uh… I figure we poke around, see if anything stands out, and then we post up for a day or two. Lots of nooks and crannies on that thing to hide in. Between Stalker and Shadow Guide we should have you plenty sneaky enough that there's no need to worry, right?"

"I can be somewhat stealthy on my own, if need be," Mabb protested agreeably, "but having you here will be a great help, yes."

The Resting Giant was a rarity in the Splinter. A bare, solitary rock formation, it rose suddenly out of the muck of the swamp, hundreds of feet long and with its highest points rising above the tops of the trees. It was long and narrow, and shaped in such a way that if you squinted it might resemble not an actual giant, but an enormous human or elfin who'd laid down for a nap. A human or elfin with some kind of horrid parasite infection; this was Misery Splinter, after all. The Giant was riddled with tubes, tunnels, and small chambers of unknown origin, making it a popular place to rest out of both the muck and the frequent cold rains.

Some of the missing people had stated that they intended to camp at the Giant while foraging for swamp goop and what few valuable plants could be found in the surrounding swamp. This was fairly common, though in Mabb's opinion it was a waste of time. The Giant was too close to the outpost, only a day's march out, and even a few people scouring the area every few weeks was enough to keep it practically barren of anything of value. Not that it stopped people from trying — there were plenty of Foragers and Herbalists in the Splinter who were optimistic or lazy enough to give it a chance before giving up and moving farther out.

Lo and behold, when they arrived at the Giant and climbed to the small cavern on its shoulder they were greeted by a surly woman squatting by an anemic campfire. She looked like she might be in her baseline thirties. If Lara was any judge, that was just what she was — with stringy hair and worn, filthy clothes, she had the look of someone who took such poor care of herself that even Vitality couldn't keep her from looking older than she should.

As they approached, the [Human Herbalist (17)] looked up once from the little pot she was stirring and grumbled, "Giant's occupied! Sod off!"

"Now, Norn, there is no need to be unpleasant," Mabb told the woman. Apparently he knew her. "We are not here to forage or harvest."

"Bloody likely!" Norn spat. "What else does anyone do at the Giant?"

"People have been disappearing," Lara said. "We're trying to find what's happened to them. Frankly, you shouldn't be here, either. It's dangerous."

The woman looked up from her pot and peered at them suspiciously. "You're trying to run me off, aren't you? What do you know, Mabb? New patch of goop? Bloom of corpse fungus? Well, guess what? Tough titties! You're not getting rid of me! I was here first!"

"Please, Norn, we're really—" Mabb started to protest, but Lara cut him off.

"Come on, Mabb," she said. "She's not going to be fooled. Let's move on." Then she took Mabb by the elbow and started leading him away.

Luckily, Mabb was clever enough to play along until they were well out of earshot. "Alright," he said when there was no risk of being overheard, even if the unpleasant woman had an unusually high Perception. "Do you have a plan or did you just want to get away from her? Norn can be difficult at the best of times, but she can usually be made to see reason."

Lara shrugged. "She's bait."

Mabb's heavy brows drew together in confusion. "How do you mean?"

"I mean, if she won't leave, and if people have been going missing…" Lara trailed off, running her hand through her short hair. She wasn't proud of the idea, but she felt she had to suggest it.

She only had to wait a moment before Mabb gave off a disapproving hum and said, "Lara. That's cold. We can't put her at risk like that, even if she is deeply unpleasant to deal with."

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"But we're not!" Lara protested. "Think about it. We'll be right here, hidden, keeping an eye on her! She'll be far safer than she would have been without us!"

Mabb shook his head, his wide lips pressing together disapprovingly. "She'd be safer still if she went back to the outpost."

"Yes, agreed. But, one, do you see her returning there if we get her to leave? And two, do you want to be the one to talk to her again?"

Mabb looked back the way he came. After a second he huffed and said, "The moment that we suspect she's in danger, we step in."

"Absolutely."

Lara often reflected over the kind of people who ended up in Misery Splinter. The Ardent Heart Guild provided very clear and complete information to its members, so nobody could claim that they didn't know how bad it was. A few hours of direct sunshine per cycle, rain more often than not, some kind of unpleasant mist in the air at practically all times, and a relentless procession of vile, biting insects. Almost every square foot of the Splinter consisted of marshes or swamps, with leech-infested water anywhere between an inch and several feet deep, and anywhere that wasn't drowned was too poor for anything of value to grow. Add to this the general stench, the lack of anything worth hunting, and the fact that the only demons you were likely to find were swarms of low-Level rodents, and you ended up with three distinct kinds of person who chose to inflict Misery Splinter on themselves.

The first were the optimists. These were the ones who thought either that it couldn't possibly be as bad as described, or that they could handle it without being ground down. These people generally left after exactly one cycle, the light in their eyes forever diminished. Lara wished them the best, and hoped that they could one day put their months here behind them.

The second were the grinders. Men and women who understood just how bad it was likely to be, but who'd also seen the reports detailing just how much money and Experience was to be made if you toughed it out for a couple of cycles. Delves were just as common as in any Splinter, and the competition was much less fierce than somewhere less awful. As long as you could deal with the swarms of demon rats, there were plenty of Crystals for the taking. And if you weren't a combat Class — which only one in a hundred people in the Splinter was — the swamp goop fetched some significant silver per ounce for those willing to put themselves through finding and harvesting the awful stuff.

Lara had great respect for these people. They tended to drink and screw their days away between long stints in the swamps, and either died or left the Splinter at a decent Level, decently well-off, or both after a few cycles. The non-combat Classers among them also frequently posted offers for escort gigs at the guild hall, which had made Lara some solid silver during her time there.

The third group were people like Lara and Mabb, who were running from something. The law, the past, themselves; whatever it was, they wanted to go somewhere no one would ever look for them. Sometimes, very rarely, one of these blighted souls would find something to hold onto that let them haul themselves out of the muck and leave. Otherwise, they were in the Splinter for life.

The Splinter had a short cycle of only eighty-five days. Most people stayed five or six cycles, at most. Lara was on her tenth. And Mabb? He hadn't actually told her how long he'd been there, and Lara hadn't pushed. But he had told her that he'd been Level 30 when he got there, and that he'd usually gain a Level every four or five cycles, which put him at about Thirty cycles in this cold, wet hell.

Thirty cycles, Lara thought. Would she still be there in another twenty? It seemed impossible, and yet all too likely. Impossible that she'd survive that long without dying to some mistake in the swamps, or drown in a ditch somewhere after getting kicked out of some tavern. All too likely that another twenty cycles wouldn't be nearly enough for her to forgive herself.

"You're spiraling again," Mabb said softly, dragging her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah." Lara sighed, and forced a smile. "Thanks."

"Let's focus on Miss Norn, shall we?" Mabb gestured to the woman they were following. She was several trees away from them, hunched over yet keeping up a constant stream of colorful commentary as she hacked at a stand of salt-reed with her sickle. The thing was clearly badly in need of a sharpening.

"Is she new?" Lara whispered. "I don't remember seeing her before."

"She's been here for longer than you," Mabb said. "But she keeps to herself, mostly. I rarely see her in the outpost."

"That makes no sense!" Lara protested. "She looks…" she gestured to the woman's generally shabby appearance and settled on, "like she has no money. And she's only Level 17! If she spends all her time out here, where does it all go?"

Mabb shrugged, with an effect like a nearby tree suddenly shuddering. "I couldn't say. I know that she's distrustful, and that she keeps away from the Exchange. I expect she does all her Leveling with Crystals from Skills, and the occasional demon she kills. As for where her harvests go, gods only know."

"She can kill demons, huh?" Lara commented. It wasn't a huge surprise, really. Anyone who left the outpost alone regularly would need to be able to defend themselves somehow. "Mage?"

"I believe so. I don't see any weapons on her but her sickle and walking stick."

They didn't need to wait long before their assumption was confirmed. Norn moved slowly, prodding the water before her for depth with her stick, her knee-high leather boots sloshing through the muck as she filled her bags with various plants that, to Lara, looked mostly worthless. That explains why she looks like a beggar, Lara thought. None of that is going to earn her much.

Then, quite suddenly, the woman froze. So did Lara and Mabb. "Oh-hoh!" Norn crowed smugly, low enough that Lara could only barely hear from where she and Mabb snuck along far behind her. "Trying to sneak up on me, are you? Always trying to get me. Always setting their little pets after me. But no one gets one over on Norn!"

Things happened very quickly then. Mabb, probably thinking that Norn was speaking to them, was about to reveal himself — most likely to apologize, Lara thought — when Lara spotted something and put her hand on his arm to stop him. Then there was a thrashing surge in the water to Norn's right, as the small pack of possessed rodents that Lara had spotted abandoned stealth and decided to go right for the Herbalist. Norn, who'd apparently been Shaping as she spoke, cackled and stretched out her hand, driving the abundant water-aligned mana surrounding her through her Shaped constructs and freezing the water solid for a foot around the otter-sized rat-demons. Then, happily babbling about delicious little morsels coming to her and saving her the trouble, Norn sloshed over to them and laboriously decapitated each one with the same sickle she's used for the plants she'd foraged.

With far more enthusiasm than she'd shown for any of the plants, Norn unfroze the water then hung the bloated, pustulent carcasses from her pack to bleed. And Lara, whose brain hadn't allowed her to quite understand what the other woman had been saying, couldn't deny the reality of what was going on any longer: the horrid woman was going to eat the remains of a pack of possessed swamp rats.

Lara, still hiding several dozen feet away with Mabb, was pretty sure that she was going to be sick.

Not in the sense of exaggerating her disgust, either. She turned to Mabb and tried to speak, only managing to say "We—" before her stomach roiled and she had to cover her mouth for fear of spewing on her friend right there. Swallowing hard, she tried again. "We should stop her," she managed to say. "Can't be hea—"

This time she had to choke off a retch, spitting the bile that reached her mouth into the water by her feet. Only her 25 Skill Levels in Stealth and the accompanying Perks gave them any hope of remaining undetected, but Norn didn't seem to notice. "Can't be healthy," she finally managed, while Mabb patted her back with the same sympathy and concern that he'd shown as she puked her guts out on so many nights.

"I doubt this is the first time," he said, and Lara was pretty sure that this was meant to somehow soothe her. Instead all his words did was to inspire her to bring up the travel rations she'd eaten during their last break.

"I think she is returning to the Giant," Mabb said once she'd rinsed her mouth from her waterskin. "Norn is gone, but that's the way she went. We should follow her."

"Gods, I'm not so sure anymore," Lara muttered. The gorge was still there, threatening to double her over at any moment. She'd thought she knew all the horrors of that cursed place, but…

"You should know—" Mabb said, and Lara's stomach instantly tensed in horrid anticipation.

"Please don't," she groaned. "Whatever you were about to say, unless it had absolutely nothing to do with demons, please keep it to yourself."

Mabb's silence spoke volumes.

"Right," Lara said. "Let's catch up. Then you can keep an eye on her while she—" She retched again and spat. "And I'll patrol the area," she finished.

"That seems like a good plan," Mabb agreed. "I doubt you could—"

With no warning a sudden chaos of splashes and snarls came to them through the stinking mist that separated them from Norn. The sounds were human, but only barely — bloodthirsty, almost animal sounds of feral rage. And above all Norn screamed, high and thin, the sound carrying her terror to the two companions before being swallowed by the swamp.

They didn't even look at each other. As one, they ran.