Brewing Bad Ch. 168-169

Ch. 168 - A Dangerous Liaison

‘My dearest Mr. Blue,’ the letter began. ‘I can see now that I might have been hasty in judging you. Perhaps we can arrange a rapprochement, and in time, perhaps more will come of it. I look forward to dancing with you again soon, Dutchess Skylara.’

It was a short memo, but the calligraphy was impeccable, and it was doubtlessly written in her own graceful hand instead of her servants, like her last message. Lucas responded in kind but vowed not to send it off until tomorrow. He didn’t want to appear too eager after all. 

Even as he wrote that response, though, the same thought rattled around in his head that had been there ever since his dual with Sir. Tristin. How can you beat a dragon if you can’t beat a knight?

It was something he asked himself all the time now. Those words came to him when he brushed his teeth and when he had dinner. They went through his mind when he was cooking up potions and practicing his blade. The encounter had been meant to make him feel better about how far he’d come; instead, it made it painfully clear about how far he had yet to go.

“It doesn’t change anything,” he mumbled to himself. “She’s still got to die.”

He might never be a hero of legends, but with potions and poisons, he could fake it for a few minutes, and really, that was all he needed. Even if he died in the attempt, as long as his efforts made Danaria safe, it would be worth it. 

Heisenburgle was excited by that news but also obviously shaken. “Why are you scared?” Lucas asked. “I’m the one who’s going to be cooked to a cinder if this goes wrong.”

“You?” the gnome asked. “Do you really think I can just shirk off this encounter after the promise I made to Thrazelwick, lord of enlightenment?”

“Wait,” Lucas answered, “You? You plan on fighting Skylara with me?”

“What do you think this has all been for?” the gnome said, gesturing to the schematics of his lance and mechanical horse that he’d been perusing. “Of course, I’m going to fight her, and it's all your fault. I could have lived my whole life happy without ever uttering those terrifying words. I’m going to fight a dragon. Thrazelwick preserve me.”

“Bro!” Lucas said, slapping the gnome on the back hard enough to earn a glare. “I didn’t know you cared! That’s the best!”

That response turned Heisenburgle’s glare into a tiny storm of overly complicated curse words, but Lucas weathered it, feeling a sudden relief wash over him. Until now, he’d been in this alone. He had no idea how he was going to distract Skylara and lance her, but if he just had to keep her focused while Hiesenburgle ran her down, well, that was infinitely more doable. They’d still probably both die, but the odds that she would, too, have just gone way up in his mind. 

How do you defeat a dragon when you can’t defeat a knight? He asked himself involuntarily again. With help from your friends. This time, the answer came to him quickly, and he was grateful for it.  

“I’m not doing this for you!” the gnome insisted as Lucas resisted the urge to hug him just to see how much angrier he could make him. “How could you ever think you were doing this by yourself. You could never fit on my Hyperquadabulator!”

“Well, I just kind of assumed you’d build a bigger one, and then I’d—” Lucas started to answer, realizing how dumb it sounded as he said it.

“A bigger one? A bigger one?!” the gnome screeched. “Even If I could do that... Even if the first one hadn’t taken eight years of careful labor and it was possible to expand it, you’d never hope to master the complex controls of mechanical transport! It’s simply beyond you and your giant hands!”

Lucas fought the urge to tell him about the automobile then and instead said, “Eight years, huh? I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t!” the gnome answered smugly, crossing his hands over his chest. “While your talent grants you a superhuman understanding of one of the gnomish arts, the other will forever be beyond you! You lack the understanding to comprehend mechanics as a species.”

Lucas let that one slide, too, as Heisenburgle talked about the specifications of the pistons and other delicate parts of the engine. Still, when the topic lingered a little too long, he made a note to tell the gnome all about cranes and pickup trucks if they both survived this, just to watch him squirm. 

For now, he dropped the issue and brought the discussion back to Skylara and how they were going to work together to defeat her. He was completely unsurprised that the gnome already had several plans on the subject. 

“There have to be several, you see because each of the Prince’s little lovenests is different. If she meets you at Balafoura, the cliffs there will hamper my charge as much as they will her flight in certain circumstances,” Heisenburgle explained. “The River Palace, on the other hand, would be wide open, except for its hedge maze and the building proper. While it would be a shame to ruin such a lovely garden…”

Heisenburgle expounded on several other possibilities, which was eventually enough to force Lucas to ask what felt like a dumb question. “Dude, how many different houses and palaces does the prince have exactly?” 

Heisenburgle paused and counted for a moment before answering, “Thirty-one, but most of those are smaller, like his lovenest he locked you away in for a couple of weeks. If we focus only on palaces and manors, the answer is fourteen.”

“What does anyone need that many houses for?” Lucas asked. 

“Well, some are vacation homes,” the gnome shrugged, “that get used every year or two, and most of the rest have some connection to the royal line or other ceremonial purposes.”

Lucas tried up how much the staffing alone must cost on those things. Suddenly, the Prince’s pleadings of poverty in the face of Skylara’s toll rang a lot more hollow to him. If you added in the costs of maintenance and furniture… well, it seemed like a huge waste to Lucas. Before, he’d kind of hoped that wherever they fought Skylara, they didn’t do much collateral damage. Now, he kind of hoped they burned one of the royal mansions to the ground, just like Parin Manor. As long as no one died in the process, he’d count that as a win.

Still, despite Heisenburgle’s insistence that each of his plans was different, they all boiled down to something like, ‘Get her relaxed and high somewhere where I can charge in at maximum speed and kill her in a single strike.’

Lucas would have a sword, of course, and his potions, but the fact that he wouldn’t have to do all that and pull a lance out of his ass calmed him immensely. Now, the hardest part of the whole thing would be enduring the faux courtship for the next week or so until he could get her alone. 

Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long. He had time to send her two scrolls full of lovely dovey bullshit that should have rightfully gone to Danaria before the next ball, and after that, well, he didn’t think any more would be necessary because she was all over him that night. 

From the moment she arrived, she spent almost all of her time dancing with Lucas, and while the Prince’s face was practically unreadable at these things, Lucas saw that even that cold-blooded prick was surprised. For his part, Lucas did his best to reciprocate, which required drinking more alcohol than he was comfortable with. Partway through the night, he actually had to take a Curative Potion to make sure he didn’t give himself alcohol poisoning.

He needed the wine, though, almost as much as he needed to kill the busty dragoness because her repulsiveness was the only thing more powerful than his need for vengeance. They made small talk and flirted. They even kissed, much to his regret. He practically hoped his system would castigate him for it, but that hateful little achievement stayed at one; it seemed that it only counted each new woman he was unfaithful with. 

Lucas counted every transgression, though, and as they whirled together around the floor, he vowed to clean the slate properly and soon. Still, by the end of the night, she was all over him, and it was only his insistence that he had to be back before the moon set to make her next batch of Lwynthenll that kept her from taking him home with her. 

“If you would have told me earlier, we might have had a Liaison in the stables or the gardens,” she mused as the night came to an end. 

“I would have if I’d only thought of it,” Lucas insisted, feeling dirtied by his words. “But if you’re willing to accept a slight delay on your next shipment for just a day or two—”

“No, your laboratory will have to come before my own needs, but just for tonight,” she insisted, obviously smitten. “I’ll expect you to make it up to me soon, though.”

“Of course,” Lucas agreed, “But it will never come soon enough. I cannot wait for the next ball to see you again. Where should we meet?”

“Well, you could come to my manor, I suppose,” she said, clinging to him. “But that is so far from your laboratory, and unlike me, you cannot fly. Perhaps I’ll borrow the Prince’s River Palace for the weekend. It’s lovely this time of year.”

“I’ve never been,” Lucas said, pretending as if he’d never heard of the place. “What’s it like?”

“Oh, it has these beautiful widows… ten feet tall at least, and they look out at the gardens which stretch to the river and…” she paused. “Tell me, my dear, have you ever chased a beautiful young woman naked through a hedge maze?”

“Never,” he said with a hungry grin while he tried not to picture the aging dragoness’ voluptuous body.

“Well, then this weekend, you will,” she said with a smile. “This weekend, we’ll impose a strict curfew on the servants after dinner, and then we’ll make the world our playground…”

Lucas went back to Blackgate that night, grateful that he was going back alone, but he was determined to take a scalding bath and scrub his skin raw to get the smell of horny dragoness off of him as soon as he got back. After that, he would tell Heisenburgle, and they could make arrangements. They had three days to get everything set up because there was no way he was going to do this twice; if they blew this opportunity and didn’t kill her, he was going to have to kill himself to avoid spending a whole weekend with her. 

Ch. 169 - Final Preparations. 

In Lucas’ final lesson with Sir. Milen, he only reached 92% on his Fancy Footwork achievement. For weeks, he’d been laying all his hopes on that one, but he was going to have to fight the Dragoness without whatever bonus that might have given him. 

That shouldn’t be a problem, Lucas tried to reassure himself. I've got plenty of other things in my favor.

Still, it bothered him. Fortunately, his dancing instructor had other good news. “It’s not a ring like you asked for, but my boss's contact was able to find a very expensive cloak you might be interested in…”

“Oh?” Lucas asked, “Will it do the job?”

“Against anything but dragonfire, sure,” the knight agreed. “It better, for what they’re asking for it.”

“What’s the damage there?” Lucas asked, even though he was afraid to. 

“Two hundred and fifty dragons,” the man said, pausing for a moment, “Plus Sir Tristain’s fee for procuring it.”

Lucas swallowed. He could afford it, barely, but the cost was liable to kill Kar’gandin when he received the note, and Lucas thought about that more than he should have for several seconds. 

A cost like that wasn’t just a fortune. It was a lifetime of labor. While he could make it back dealing hard drugs in a year or two and dealing more legitimate products like potions and cosmetics inside of half a decade, for a farmer, that represented eighty years of good harvests.

All that for a little magic, Lucas decided, sure he’d gotten into the wrong business. 

“You know, I had the strangest feeling that you might ask that question,” his instructor said with a grin, so I made sure to ask. “The seller said that it was made from red dragon hide and that its enchantments should hold against anything for a moment or two, but after that, well, he made no guarantees.”

“Do it,” Lucas said, “Pull the trigger. I’ll send you back with a note for Kar’gandin, and I’ll be in the city tomorrow to pick it up.”

“That soon?” Sir. Milen asked. “Dealing with ah, Mages, doesn’t seem like something you should rush.”

“Nothing is being rushed,” Lucas answered. “I’ve been making my preparations for a month now. Things are just falling into place.”

“Well, if you need men to help you against your mages, Sir Tristan has authorized me to—” the warrior started to answer, but Lucas cut him off. 

“While I’d love some help, I can’t ask for that,” Lucas answered. “Not only are these negotiations extremely sensitive, but they’re almost certainly a death sentence, and I could never do that to my favorite teacher.”

Sir. Malen didn’t answer that immediately. He just nodded, and they sat there in a comfortable silence as all of the things he probably should have said went unsaid. Then, instead of arguing or trying again, he just shook Lucas’ hand. 

“I’ve had students go to great lengths to get out of my lessons before,” the knight said, “But you would be the first to kill yourself to get out of fighting me again.”

Lucas shook his head as he suppressed a laugh. “In your dreams, man. There’s nothing you’ve got that a few potions can’t beat.”

“Well, we’ll hope that’s true for dragons, I mean mages, as well, then,” Sir. Milen answered. 

Lucas didn’t attempt to deny it. Instead, the two of them walked back to his room, where Lucas wrote a long note to his dwarven friend authorizing the payment. He didn’t explain what it was for, exactly. He hinted a bit but promised to explain all of it to him tomorrow evening when Heisenburgle’s caravan skirted the city. Almost everything was loaded up now, and as soon as the gnome finished one final task, they would be ready to leave in the morning. 

It was only when the warrior was riding away with the most expensive letter that Lucas had ever written that he returned to check on the gnome’s electroplating efforts. He’d been working on it for two days, and by now, everything but the horse had been turned to gold. Well, coated in gold anyway. 

“It’s a crucial part of my plan!” the gnome insisted when Lucas asked if it was really necessary. Heisebnburgle certainly seemed to think so. “If I have to stage in one of the outbuildings, then she’ll have all the time in the world to see me coming. To get close, I’ll need to hide in plain sight!”

It was a ballsy plan, at least. Lucas had to give the guy that. He was turning his ugly metal horse and his armor gold so he could pose as a statue not far from where Lucas was supposed to lure her. It might even work, but the idea of standing there, waiting half the day for the right moment, struck Lucas as going a little overboard. 

Still, When Lucas arrived, he could see that the gnome had made a lot of progress. The armored exterior had been removed from the horse and was being dipped into a chemical that made it gleam before they were bolted back on. It was an interesting look, and as he watched, he couldn’t decide if he was looking at a piece of modern art or a very expensive vehicle. Normally, he would have cared more about the alchemy involved, but not today. 

Today, he could feel the hours ticking by like a physical thing, and all he wanted was to get this show on the road. They had hours to travel, key equipment to fetch, and a single night to set all of their traps before the moment of truth. Lucas was well aware that he’d been preparing for this moment for a very long time. For weeks, it was all he’d done, but right now, he felt more like he was rushing it, and as much as he wanted his vengeance, he wished that he had a little more time to slow things down and do them right. 

Like I haven’t been doing things right this whole damn time, he argued internally. 

He had Heisenburgle’s poison blade and spare potions. In half a day, he’d have the most expensive cloak known to man. He even had a few other surprises up his sleeve, but right now, he felt like he was forgetting something. 

Still, there was nothing for it. Six hours later, Heisenburgle was done turning his steel horse into a golden pony, and after he tested the engine and refueled the thing, it was put in the wagon, and they were on their way, with only his most trusted servants in tow. 

The convoy was nothing like the carriage he usually took. It was four wagons filled with various supplies, and it moved half the speed he was used to. So, toward sunset, Lucas rode on ahead, promising to wait for Heisenburgle on the road north once he’d secured his goal. 

“Magic,” the gnome spat. “You’d be better off putting your efforts into prayer.”

Lucas ignored him, though. He’d seen what magic could do, and honestly, he wanted more one day when everything slowed down. 

By the time he arrived in the small courtyard, as his letter had promised, the place was all but empty. Some part of Lucas was expecting an ambush, but that would have been hard to do unless pretty much everyone turned against him. 

There, he found Kar’gandin and Sir. Tristin sitting alone on the usual bench, with the man’s bodyguards far enough away that they wouldn’t overhear anything. “What’s up, guys!” Lucas asked as he tethered his horse and approached them. It did nothing to break the stony silence. 

“Is there a problem?” Lucas asked. 

“The problem is that this chisler just told me what ye’ want the bleedin’ gold for!” Kar’gandin bellowed. 

“I mean, I would think it’s obvious what I want a magical fireproof cloak for,” Lucas answered with a shrug. “I’ve made no secret that I want her dead.”

“Yeah, well, wanting and getting are two different things,” Kar’gandin said. “Ye could throw armies against such a creature. You could contract the entire mages guild, and ye’d still come up short.”

“The dwarf has a point,” Sir. Tristen nodded. “Dwarves would know too. Most old dragons live in dwarven ruins for a reason.”

Kar’gandin glared for a moment but said nothing. Instead, he turned back to Lucas and said. “A fireproof cloak… even one that can stand up to dragonfire ain’t going to save ya’, lad.”

“No,” Lucas agreed. “That’s what the potions are for.”

“Sir. Milen mentioned those,” the head of the Bronze Knights chimed in. “You know if you wanted to start paying your bills to me in high-quality potions rather than coin until you’ve refilled your treasury from this… misadventure, I’d be amenable.”

“So you think I have a chance?” Lucas asked skeptically. 

“Oh, no, hot a chance in any of the seven hells,” the knight laughed. “But if you survive your folly, then I’m open to it.”

“Boy, a potion of strength ain’t gonna let you stop an ageless monster the size of a house,” Kar’gandin agreed. “You don’t have to do this. You and yer g… Ye can just flee the city. She won’t follow. We all can. We can set up operations somewhere else and build a new empire.”

“It’s not about me or even about the people she killed now,” Lucas answered cooly. “She’s a terror, and she needs to be put down.”

No one disputed that, but they both tried to argue against it just the same. Eventually, Lucas just abandoned his efforts to explain it to them. They didn’t understand the poison he was going to cook tonight to make it as fresh as possible since it broke down so quickly. They didn’t understand how outrageous his potions were or how he’d been touched by the gods themselves, and honestly, he didn’t feel like sharing all of that. 

For now, all he needed from either of them right now besides loyalty was the thick leather cloak, which was quickly produced. The thing itself was gorgeous. Perhaps not a lifetime's worth of income, gorgeous, but lovely just the same. There was apparently no trick to it. The person who wore it was protected by it. No mana or fancy words to remember. It just worked. 

“How sure are we that this isn’t a knockoff?” Luca asked. 

“I had a disinterested third party inspect it for a small fee,” Sir Tristin assured him. 

“Well, then, at least there’s that,” Lucas said as he put the thing on. “But I think I’ll check it myself first, just in case.”

He walked over to the brazier next to the nearest guard, and after putting one of his hands in the flames and feeling nothing, he shoved it into the glowing coals and was similarly surprised. There was no burning or even heat coming from them. In fact, the only thing that anything was amiss besides the fact that he wasn’t screaming in agony was lightly glowing runes on the hem of his new and very expensive garment. 

“Well, I guess it’s worth the money after all,” Lucas told his friends.

Then, almost as an afterthought, he pulled a sealed note out of his pocket, and handed it to the dwarf. He looking at Lucas in confusion, given that it wasn’t marked, and the only answer he got was a vague one. “You know who it’s for,” Lucas told him. “If I don’t make it, give it to them. If I do… well, burn it. It’s pretty embarrassing.”

“Ye’ just come back to us, lad,” Kar’gandin nodded. 

Lucas smiled at that but said nothing. Instead, he walked back to his horse and mounted up and then rode toward the north gate to wait for Heisenburgle’s lumbering ass to catch up with him.