Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 187 The Journey and the Legends

The situation took another turn for the worse. The vice president had vanished without a trace, his fate unknown. Even a mage who was not skilled in divination magic could not forcefully reveal the other party's status or location without any clues.

However, the monk may run away but the temple cannot. After learning from the survivors of the merchant guild that Carrick's address was in Waterdeep, the Canaan group, who were on their way there anyway, would probably have to pay him a visit.

However, the current situation is somewhat awkward. Although he rescued the four members of the merchant guild, they have nothing left. They don't even have a carriage to travel on, let alone any water or food.

If we leave these people in this state to fend for themselves, it's no different from letting them die.

After all, they had taken the other party's goods and made a fortune. Once they arrived in Waterdeep, they would need someone to guide them to Carrick's mansion. Therefore, Zhang Yuan was unwilling to abandon these survivors.

Supplies are not lacking, it's just that the carriages...

The team already had only two carriages, each with four people, which was already considered a full load. Adding a few more would be too much of a burden on the hardworking horses.

Fortunately, their teammates brought good news. After searching the entire troll cave, they discovered where the trolls had stored their loot. The two wagons were full of supplies, most of which had been destroyed by the trolls, but some were still left.

Most importantly, those two intact carriages can be reused.

As for the horses, forget about them; they've probably turned into bones and troll excrement by now.

They brought the survivors to the carriage and chose the larger one. They also had everyone pack some dry food and supplies. Then Rick and Morty, those two strong guys who had nothing else to offer, huffed and puffed as they dragged the carriage out of the cave.

For now, we have no choice but to let the chess pieces continue to shoulder the responsibility of driving the cart.

"The Enchanted Knight"

A demon knight named Abaddon was summoned, and his undead warhorse obediently donned a magical rope, leading the carriage of this new member of the caravan forward together with the Keeper of Light.

After disbanding most of the pieces, only the two pieces mentioned above remained, along with the Winter Wyvern navigating in mid-air and the two Chaos Knights who also served as cart pullers.

They drove their carriage back onto the trade route, crossing bridges over winding rivers, bidding farewell to the towering claws of the trolls, and heading northwest.

The journey ahead is still long, with not only the main area of ​​the Troll Mountains, but also other dangerous places such as the Misty Forest and the Lizard Swamp awaiting their arrival.

To get to Sham Water City, there's still a long way to go.

The four members of the merchant guild, having escaped the jaws of death and survived, sat in the carriage, still somewhat dazed from their ordeal, and followed the procession ahead.

The carriages pulling them weren't drawn by fine horses, but by a black-armored knight shrouded in eerie mist and an old man riding a white horse.

This group was truly bizarre, but they didn't dare to pry into the details, only discussing and speculating about it privately in the train carriage.

"That black knight was eerie and didn't look like a living person at all. Could he be the legendary Death Knight?" The young man's imagination was running wild.

"No way? Death Knights are coming to pull our carts? Does that make us necromancers or liches?" The middle-aged man was a little incredulous. "Shh~ Can you shut your big mouth? This was summoned by the human mage, who gave you the audacity to talk nonsense like that?"

The older one was cautious, and he could easily deal with a tribe of trolls while remaining almost unharmed. This skill was far beyond what ordinary adventure teams or mercenary groups could compare to. So, one can imagine what level this mage, who was the leader, was at.

In a world where one's life and fortune are in the hands of others, it would be incredibly foolish to provoke someone with a few sharp words.

They hurried along the way, and by nightfall they had just crossed the winding river and arrived at the foot of the eastern side of Troll Mountain to set up camp.

To be honest, if he had a choice, Zhang Yuan really wouldn't want to spend the night in this place.

Standing at the foot of the mountain and looking west, the Troll Mountain in the twilight resembles a lurking giant beast. Unlike the precipitous cliffs of the Troll Claw, this mountain, though also rugged, is covered with vegetation and forests. Although not very dense, it is enough to support an ecosystem, where certain species live.

For example, trolls, and worms.

Fortunately, the Canaan team's base was some distance from the mountain, and with the Leomon Sanctuary having other early warning spells, there was no need to worry too much about their safety at night.

When it comes to real danger, the likes of trolls are nothing compared to the sorcerer's tomb on the west side of Troll Mountain, which is the real den of dragons and tigers.

A sorcerer, or warlock, sounds like nothing special, just an ordinary profession. But if the owner of this tomb is a great arcane mage who has survived since the time of Netheril, then that's a different story.

Moreover, among this great arcane mage's countless titles are: King of Warlocks, King of Shadows, and a series of other illustrious titles.

However, these titles were nothing more than fleeting clouds to Larok, a descendant of Netheril and one of the oldest spellcasters among the Faerûn mortal race.

In fact, the title of King of Warlocks was born out of the ignorant speculation of mortals out of fear. As a powerful wizard or arcane sorcerer, Lalock himself had no liking for this title.

To mistake a great arcanist who takes pride in his knowledge, reason, and magical prowess for a sorcerer who relies on divine favor is nothing short of an insult.

It is said, and this is just hearsay, that the bard who fabricated the story of Larok's dual role as a sorcerer and wizard has already been invited to have tea in the tomb by the sorcerer king he mentioned, and Larok, who "favored" him, generously offered him a lifetime contract as a 007.

There are no holidays, no retirement, and no worries about birth, aging, sickness, or death. Immortality is the greatest blessing of this job.

Although this employee may not necessarily be willing to accept the kindness from their own boss.

Regardless, fiction is not nonsense, and adaptation is not random fabrication. When telling his teammates about the Troll Mountain, Zhang Yuan almost gritted his teeth and read each word, such as "Arcanist" and "Legendary Mage," with great care.

The people of Canaan also knew how dangerous it was; rumors of the Necromancer King and the Plague Lord, who resided in the Tomb of the Sorcerer, still circulated in many homes around Baldur's Gate, and could almost stop children from crying at night.

Fifteen years ago, a reckless expedition rushed into the Tomb of the Sorcerer, and almost the entire team died there, leaving only one "lucky one" to return alive to Baldur's Gate.

However, his good fortune was the beginning of the city's misfortune, as an unprecedented and extremely dangerous plague began to spread through Baldur's Gate.

(End of this chapter)