Chapter 238: The Long Blue Box
Ozzy rolled over and sat up, vacating his cozy spot on the floor of his cabin underneath his hammock. He''d have to remember to tie himself in bed the next time he leveled up. The dream was fading. It was familiar in some ways to the earlier dream. What the hell it all meant he could only guess at. As soon as he stood up, he was surprised by a notification that he hadn''t allocated his free points from his class upgrade. He was hoping to save those for later. He pushed the notification aside.
It immediately popped back up.
Ozzy was tempted to toss it all into strength. That would make it much easier to get STR to 45 and try for another level of monstrous. If the pattern of advances was consistent, he could expect 10 points from experience in STR skills, and another 3 points buyable with Enhancement Points. Maybe even a point from Shipkiller? He was unsure if that added before or after he gained benchmark bonuses. But he had a lot of STR skills. Spending them elsewhere might be better.
He had several low stats, but it seemed a waste to reinforce those instead of raising the stats he relied on the most. After evaluating each stat, he put two points into RAD. It was equal to COR, but only because of his earring. By adding two points, both stats were naturally at 20. One point went to STR and another to CON. He finished and got a final notification, followed by his character sheet appearing.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
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Increased Benchmark Bonuses
At the end of Tier one you earned Perks for raising a pair of stats to Ten. The Benchmark for Tier 2 is 20. You may Upgrade the perks you earned in Tier 1 if you have again attained benchmarks corresponding to those Perks. (30 in the case of Very Tough.)
STR and CON of 30: VERY Tough has upgraded to Monstrously Tough.
Universal Physical and Elemental mitigation is increased to 60.
Your creature type has been upgraded accordingly.
STR and CHA of 20: Knightly is increased to Noble Bearing.
You may try to hide it, but the blood of your ancestors is obvious to any noble and their retainers. You have to be related to someone in the higher circles of the Empire. You have good initial reactions from the upper parts of society, and any military will give you a position as an officer.
STR and COR: Might is increased to Powerful.
All of your physical attacks with weapons or natural weapons cause +20 damage. Minions are happy to call you master and join your household. Evil Overlords have you on a shortlist for possible boss positions.
CON and CHA: Sculpted is increased to Chiseled.
Your muscles are perfectly aligned to make the most of your strength. You are immune to sprains, pulled muscles or other minor injuries from exerting yourself. It is recommended that you keep your shirt on around female barbarians unless you want to be carted off to the far north.
CON and COR: Vigor is increased to Vigorous
The health boost from Vigor is increased from +200 to +400.
COR and CHA: Dark Glory is increased to Darkly Glorious. Practitioners of the Darker Arts recognize you as someone to respect. Intelligent evil monsters look beyond your apparent humanity and may seek an alliance with you, or at least know to be polite. (This does not include monsters in dungeons, or already engaged in battle. Or liches, they hate everyone.) You have that knack for appearing good to bad people.
TRI-FECTA: As before, you have raised three stats to their benchmark and scored a Triifecta bonus!
The benefit of Trifecta is increased to +200 Mana, +200 Stamina, and +200 Health.
QUADRATIC: You have solved the Universal Quadratic Equation by raising four sets of stats to their benchmark. Choose one of these abilities:
-A simple aspect of magic. (Fire, ice, acid, earth, water, storm, poison, dark, wind, wood, light.)
-A resistance, either active or inactive, to one of the following: Fire, ice, acid, earth, water, storm, poison, dark, wind, wood, light. This is a skill, and must be increased by exposure to that type of mana.
-Choose +500 Health, Stamina, or Mana.
-Gain 1000 Gold Coins.
-Gain: +2 to any stat.
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Chapter 239: Unfolding Events
The EMG, or Event Monitoring Group was seven people tasked with watching for anomalies in the world of GENESIS. Their job was three-fold: Discover strange or novel events, document them, and pass on the information to someone else. In the case of basic game information, they happily tossed the data to Promotions and Outreach and went looking for weirder stuff.
The P and O department set up interviews with the game reviewers and answered basic questions for people preparing articles on the game. Need to know how many guilds of over 50 players are in Tier 2? What is the most popular of the known races or classes? How fast can someone get to Tier 3? How many people who race to tier 3 start over with a new character? Who is the highest-ranked Paladin in the game? These are all questions the P and O group can answer. They also prepare weekly updates of significant events in the empire; Dungeons conquered, which Guild has advanced the most in the game, and a host of similar statistics that they released each week to the various steamers and video casters.
The essential job of the EMG was sifting reports and statistics for the things that stood out or exceeded expectations. One such problem was the total extinction of womprats and tree sloths in the western part of the empire. The slow-moving animals couldn''t dodge and were usually dead before they knew they were being attacked. Players loved to kill them for the easy experience and the money from their hides. The problem was fixed by asking the system to repopulate the area, make the slow and easily killed animals have far less experience, and decrease the chance of gaining a usable pelt from their fuzzy carcasses. The system also spiced things up a bit by increasing the spawns of Giant Mutant Sloths. These creatures were exceedingly dangerous to any character that could gain experience killing the normal varmints. Giant Mutant Sloths hid in muddy areas and erupted from their hiding places like a great, fuzzy assassins. They often had poisonous claws or acidic breath. Some were pack hunters. The system considered the results a success: the experience was now balanced by danger, and sloth hunting wasn''t dull.
Broken quest lines would be noted, and ways to fix them would be suggested to the system. There was a bottleneck in similar quests for thieves, assassins, and lawyers. All three guilds gave a quest to waylay a courier and steal the documents they carried. Players joining the couriers guild were few and far between already because of the rigid requirements. (Such as being able to stay on a horse.)
When those few couriers realized they would die every time they took the road between Limestone and Mudbay, they started refusing the quest and taking different routes. This was fixed by adding a small amount of gold and triple experience if the couriers were killed en route. Death wasn''t so bad, the couriers returned, and the quests became much more popular for all four groups.
Sometimes the problems the EMG found were exploits found by players. Such as three villages being wiped out in a single night by cows. A guild had attacked the stockyards in Brockhaven and stampeded thousands of cattle through three small villages. Everyone was killed, giving the players experience. They looted each town for valuables and sold the livestock herd to a goblin tribe.
The EMG recommended to the system that the stockyards be rebuilt with stronger fences and guards added. The system responded more creatively. When the players went to spend their experience and move to Tier 2, they were only offered the classes of Rustler, Marauder, or Shepherd. Half the guild started over, and the other half decided to join a bandit stronghold in the Slipperyrock Mountains.
Minor exploits were often ignored, as that was seen as part of the game, and the system or NPC would slowly respond to them. If a player found a way to profit by buying goods on one side of town and selling them to a merchant on the other, that was just considered everyday commerce. The enterprising player could profit from his work until he either did it too much or others started doing the same. One favorite ''exploit'' reported several times involved two fire mages casting cantrips at each other to raise their resistance skills. Both the system and EMG ignored this. Burning yourself over and over was quite painful, but if that was how someone wanted to raise minor fire resistance, that was up to them. The cost for a healer to remove the scars each day balanced the quick experience gained.
Dan was one of the people working in the EMG, and one of his more boring tasks was monitoring the large population of contract workers for anomalies and reporting problems. Steven often emphasized how essential this was since the contract workers often needed more knowledge of the game and were discouraged from reporting problems by their employers.
The corporations never wanted anyone to see what they were doing, so Dan had to investigate minor anomalies and report them to Steven, who brought them to Wally''s attention. It had been explained to everyone in the EMG that because of the contracts with the corporations, Wally was not allowed to personally and officially monitor most of the game world. So unless a human in the EMG took notice of something or a player or corporation reported a problem, Wally couldn''t act on it.
Today what caught Dan''s attention was a contract worker advancing to Level 11. That, in and of itself, wasn''t unheard of. There had already been several contract workers getting that high, especially in the northern area around Sedgewick. Weird stuff always seemed to happen there. And based on the average number of hours worked per day, the poor workers also had to pull double shifts to get anything done. ACME was working them extra to make up for destroyed towns, monster attacks, and now an invasion of wyverns.
But what caught Dan''s eye was something very different. There was an anomaly with this worker. He had 0 health, 0 stamina, and 0 mana. He should be dead, yet his status showed as alive and sleeping. Dan tried to get a view of where the character was, and that was when shit got weird. His maps zoomed out to a picture of the world, then a complex diagram of the multiverse and the elemental plans, and finally zoomed back into the dividing line between the plane of air and the plane of fire. He could only see swirling smoke and a brief view of a pirate ship with burning sails. Then his screen went blank. Dan decided to get coffee and then talk to Steven.
Five minutes later, he was in Steven''s Office, and the AI had just appeared on the screen behind them. "Dan, please repeat for Wally what you saw on your screen."
Wally had a bag of popcorn and was sitting back in a comfortable chair behind him; two canaries fluttered in zero-g, playing tag.
"Uh, right. I saw the report of another contract worker hitting tier 3. The location was undefined, so I looked at the basic info we are allowed to see, and he had zeroes across his three basic stats but still showed alive. Then I got a quick look at a pirate ship that was on fire and a map of the elemental planes. Then nothing."
Wally seemed interested. "Name and his new class?"
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Dan had that on his notes. "The name is Ozzy; he''s a Butcher, level 11, with the specialty Seasoned Pitmaster. Is that a real class? He just hit Level 11."
Wally took a look at a screen: "Oh my! This is exciting. ACME has somehow put one of its workers into the elemental planes! Did we have a bet on that, Steven? This is at least a year ahead of when any player was supposed to be able to access any of the elemental planes, and certainly not the para-elemental plane of smoke. And this is five years ahead of estimates for opening a trade route. What a strange turn of events. I wonder what ACME is up to?"
Wally spun his chair back around. "Dan, I know you''re very busy. How about I handle this one for you? I so rarely get surprised by something. Is that ok with you? It can be a little secret between the three of us. Ixnay on the okesmay. Got it?"
Dan shrugged. "Sure. I have a ton of stuff to do already. I appreciate the help. Do you want any other odd stuff with contract workers sent to your attention?"
Wally smiled like it was Christmas. "That would be grand. Thank you, Dan." His screen turned off.
Dan looked at Steven. "What''s up? Doesn''t the AI already know about this? I thought he made the game world?"
"Well, sort of. Most of it is self-generating at this point, but because of certain agreements, Wally only gets to observe a little of it if he''s needed to solve problems. That part of him running the system and game engine is partitioned off from his primary personality. He processes things so fast that he gets bored easily. Getting to go see an interesting thing in the game is something he enjoys."
Dan nodded. He knew that all the AI that had ever been created had restrictions coded into their kernels. Wally had more than the rest put together. "I''ll keep a lookout for odd stuff and start a file that notifies you, and you can kick them up to the big guy."
"I''ll let him know; thanks, Dan."
Wally reappeared again, taking up half of the screen as soon as Dan was gone. Steven looked at the pictures that were on the other half of the screen. The air was smoky, and the ship wasn''t on fire; it had sails made of fire! The sea was black and choppy. "Where the hell is he? That''s one of your ''special ones,'' correct?"
"Very special. His group was the first to volunteer for the experimental medical trials. And to answer your questions, that is a one-masted sloop with an auric hull. A ''Smokejammer.'' It''s sailing on a sea of heated smoke in the thin area between the planes of fire and air. I looked at some events in Sedgewick. Our butcher has become quite the barbeque master, leading him to strange places. You''re going to have to oversee things carefully. More events will occur. Just his being there is stirring things up. The Engine has taken notice, and quest lines are beginning. Quite a few are wrapped around Ozzy already. He''s only the first person to visit the Smoke; more will follow now that the Engine considers that plane open."
Steven was looking at his laptop, checking something. "No global announcements, no awards for reaching the planes, nothing. Why is that?"
Wally ate more popcorn and began watching a battle between the Butcher and a giant crocodile. "I checked. The announcement would have come the first time a guild defeated an elemental demi-god and gained access to their gate. Then another announcement when a guild gained a ship and traveled to the smoke either by sailing down from the Plane of Air or up from the Plane of Fire to enter the Sea of Smoke. Those events didn''t happen, so no announcements."
"And now?"
Wally considered. "Now things will be different. I''ll leave that up to the Engine, of course. But it makes sense. Events that no one knows of tend to stay secret for much longer. Ozzy found his own way to the smoke, and he''s hard to track. His role in the village, a magic ring, and the protections he gained from the Mark of Artemis all contribute to keeping his actions off the radar. Which is good; I don''t want to draw attention to him, just the opposite."
"The system can wait until he returns to take official notice of his round trip. I''ll make sure to find a suitable reward for his corporate employer, if that''s okay with you. They get building points for opening trade routes and discovering new lands. This is much bigger than finding a dungeon or an old city. Much will depend on what Ozzy is doing and how he gets back."
"Ah, here''s a nice bit of footage. I''d love to hear the full story on what is going on here." The AI put a scene on the main scren of a derelict ship and a hoard of crocodiles.
Steven watched as the Butcher unleashed some biological hell weapon and began to climb a mast to avoid the mist. "Dear lord, what sort of monster is that thing?" The croc had leaped to the ship, and all hell exploded as a blue mist destroyed everything.
Wally smiled. "What type of monster? That, Steven, is a Butcher."
In Sedgewick, Joe sat calmly by a small fire, listening to chains rattle as the carcasses of beasts were cooked with clouds of smoke. A bottle sat in front of him, still defying him and not giving him a clue where his apprentice had gone.
Then something changed. Joe felt it, and so did the charnel pit. The doors were knocked off their hinges as glowing chains from the pit came toward the smoke golem. He yelled at the building. "Hold your horses. Yeah, I feel it too. He''s kicked himself up a notch. Let me try again." The old man made of smoke stared into the swirling bottle that held dreams of a woman who missed her man, a hag''s longing for someone that kept her sane, and a breath of smoke from the Butcher and himself. He got flashes of color and sound, but I couldn''t pin him down. It was frustrating.
The chains danced in front of him, reaching out and grabbing his wrist, pulling lightly. Joe looked at the pit and thought. "You can find him now?" The chains pulled again. "Fine. But I will need a dozen links from you to add to the mix if you want to go along. The chains were still for a moment, and then one link dissolved into smoke, freeing up a four-foot length. Joe hooked one end of the chain to the neck of the bottle and held the other. "I never thought I''d need to make a dowsing rod to find a Butcher."
The bottle jerked out of his hand, up and toward the sky.
Makken walked up with a beer from the tavern and a sandwich. He spent a lot of time with Joe, talking and telling stories. "Is that a fancy new balloon? Can I get one? Maybe in red? Red is always hotter."
Joe turned towards him. "Go tell Jenny her bottle is working, and tell the Barmaid I''m off to find our boy." He looked over towards Makken''s farm. "Didn''t you say there was a bunch of gorse bushes you needed to clear?"
The dwarf pointed. "Yeah, beyond the farm, about a half mile or so, next to that bit of scrub woods. I want to start clearing for new fields at some point and see what''s underneath the area. Might run a tunnel over that way."
The smoke golem started walking that way. "Go run some messages for me. I''ll see to your gorse." Makken had no idea what was going on. He walked back into the village and was coming out of the tavern from telling Suzette the message when the wind started picking up.
The clouds were moving in a circle, and the skies grew dark. The villagers began to lock shutters over their windows and gather children and animals indoors and into basements. In Rowan Keep, alarms rang, and workers and soldiers took cover inside. From the sky dropped a seething black funnel of a massive tornado. Where it touched the ground, trees were uprooted, and dirt was torn down to bedrock. A moment later, the twister moved back into the sky and disappeared as it moved higher and higher.
In a strange twist of luck, the only land destroyed was an area of gorse and scrub oak. The land that had just been purchased from the village a short time before by the dwarf pepper farmer, Makken. His new land was stripped bare of topsoil in a strange stroke of luck, revealing a rich seam of coal and iron-bearing rock.
Chapter 240: Congratulations
Woodrat noticed immediately when Ozzy came on deck for his next shift. To the captain, it was obvious that Ozzy had moved to the third tier. He clapped his mate on the back, shook his hand, and congratulated him. "I''m a couple of leagues behind you, but a few more adventures, and I''ll catch up."
The rest of the crew waited for him to come down to the lower deck and congratulated him one by one. Butterbelly grabbed the Butcher, gave him a bear hug, and patted him on the head. "Keep growing; I want you at least two feet taller by the time you meet my family." Mariah whirled around him and then gave him a deep bow before racing to the top of the mast where Derek was on lookout.
The young man leaped from the crow''s nest, drawing his sword. As he was about to land hard and break a leg, winds swirled from his blade, slowing his descent. Landing, he sheathed his blade and gave Ozzy a smart salute. "You don''t have a deck of your own, but I can tell by looking at you that you will stand on one soon."
Woodrat allowed the crew some time to congratulate his first mate and then yelled for their attention. "We''ll have another little party tonight. But for now, let''s get back to work. Mariah, I want you and Derek to check the navigation and switch the lookout each hour. I want fresh eyes up there. The course I''ve set is back along the route Mr. Ozzy and I took to get to the salad. We left the Dauntless behind while we went whale-surfing, and I''d like to find out what happened to her. She''s a well-built ship with a strong crew. They could have survived."
The crew went about their duties, and Ozzy joined Woodrat on the bridge. "You think they made it?"
Woodrat shook his head slowly and shrugged. "I can''t say. That was one hell of an eruption. You and I survived the heat because of strange circumstances. Dauntless certainly had captains about who could put shields on the ship, but the blow-up was so sudden, it might have took them by surprise. Their sails were in tatters, and the crew was scrambling to clear broken chains and relight the sails. If the right people survived the first part of the eruption, they might still be on the smoke. Or she might be a ghost ship full of charred."
"And since then, this blasted heat has made life difficult. Half our crew would have been dead with burst furnaces if you hadn''t pulled out the excess heat. If Dauntless isn''t a ghost ship by now, she''s bound to have a lot of ailing crew."
Ozzy looked out over the smoke. The surface was still choppy, with big swells rippling out from the eruption. There was more time between the waves, but they were getting larger. "How long does the sea stay like this?"
Woodrat looked in the direction of eruption, just over the horizon. A glow lit up the area, and an angry rumble now and then. "This is a big one, but I think it''s subsiding. It''s still pouring out some heat but it will go away in a month or two. But the damage to the smoke has been done. Things are too damned hot. The little fish have run for cover, and the big stuff is dying off or being eaten by bigger things. And if the monsters from the deep wake up, everyone has problems. Well, everyone who doesn''t have a fast ship as we do."
"I don''t think anything can catch us this side of a cyclone. The Splinter is everything I ever wanted. Big enough to sail where I want to go and fast enough to get away from anyone I piss off. I might even try my hand at a little merchanting. There are a lot of small villages perched on reefs and needing things only found on the islands. Big ships want to avoid bothering with them, but those out-of-the-way places have their own riches. Shell, pearls, clams and mussels, sea snake hides, and seasoned driftwood. And auric. A village might only produce a few pounds in a year, but if an enterprising and handsome captain in a small ship could find twenty or thirty of those villages, it would add up to a lot. Much to think on."
He turned to Ozzy. "And a place for you if you don''t find your way home. Keep that in mind if you get feeling lonely." Then he smiled brightly. "Or you could head to the land of the giants and get a wife with ''legs like tree trunks.'' My, the girl sounds lovely, doesn''t she?"
Ozzy laughed but said."Not for me. I wouldn''t want to annoy the woman. The part of the story about braiding her hair with her other boyfriends'' bones sends a clear message. To be honest, I''m a little on the small side for her."
"Well, that can change. Take up Butterbelly''s offer to visit his home, maybe get invited to the clan, and start eating ten times as much, and you''ll start growing. We had a sailor named Edward on Bolt Thrower who got tossed overboard when pirates attacked the ship. He was counted among the dead, but a year later, he was on the docks wanting to rejoin the crew. He claimed he got picked up by a fire walker after floating for a month and spent some time in Muspelheim. We''d have called him a liar, except his skin was bright red, and he''d grown four feet taller." Woodrat got distracted by a scuff mark on his deck. He glared at it until the wood smoothed and became dark black with infused smoke.
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Derek''s voice called out. "Disturbance in the seas dead ahead, captain! Something big is coming up!"
Woodrat began yelling orders to the crew to shift two of the sails, then turned the wheel of the ship hard. The rudder bit into the smoke, and he threw heat to the new configuration of sails. "Mr. Ozzy, brighten the main sail by a notch if you can. Maria, get up there and make sure our lookout is securely chained to his spot. The rest of you, chain yourselves down or grab on tight."
Ozzy leaped down to the main deck, causing the planks to groan in protest. Making sure no one was in the way, he breathed out enough heat to make the main sail glow, dropping his own heat by 1000. Heat the Sails was at rank 4, more than doubling the amount that went into the ship.
| Heat the Sails has increased to Rank 5. INT has increased to Rank 1. You have gained +1 INT
Heat that you imbue into a Ship''s sails will be increased by 2.5
You have gained an ability that will manifest in the Conjunction. |
He made the mistake of looking at the notification, and it almost got him thrown overboard as Captain Woodrat turned the helm hard over to starboard. He didn''t trust grabbing ahold of the rail as he fell and instead reached out to the mast. His chain tattoo became a thick chain that shot out and wrapped around the mast. He grumbled under his breath and made sure to turn off notifications.
The smoke boiled up and three humongous tentacles, each bigger than the Splinter, broke the surface. One of them made a grab for the ship, but the sudden turn and burst of speed allowed the ship to escape by a distance of a few feet. "Top off the sails, Mr. Ozzy. I need all the speed we can get. Butterbelly! I want two staysails set at the bow as soon as the first mate has the jib sail heated. Mariah! Make sure the chains are set correctly for the top sail. It will be hard enough for the first mate to light it, and I don''t trust him moving around up top."
Ozzy carefully moved forward to where he could heat the jib sail. As soon as that was done, he moved back to the mast and looked up. "Stay put, Derrek! I don''t want to hit you". He threw the Trammelian Chain hard, and the end wrapped around the top of the mast. He ran up the chain ladder as fast as possible, keeping the tension on his safety chain tight. The ladder had taken some time to create. Every bit of it was done with a Kraken weave and could support even Butterbelly''s weight. Derek was looking in all directions and calling directions to the captain. Mariah was hovering in mid-air, looking almost transparent.
"Clear the sail!" Both of his crewmates were well clear, but Captain Woodrat wanted a tight ship run, part of which meant a safety warning before you spewed out enough heat to char a man. The top sail was only a fraction of the size of the main sail, but he needed to use enough heat to both create it and bring it to full. Hanging by his chain and feet on the ladder, he breathed out fire that filled the area between the chains, the sail glowing brighter and brighter as he added more heat.
Mariah was observing. "She''s full; back off the heat and head down." She was glancing worriedly around the ship. Ozzy also paused to look and saw several more denizens of the deep emerge from the smoke. "What are those, Derek? Kraken?"
The lookout nodded, but his attention was on the smoke. "Aye, Kraken. Big ones from down deep. That first one almost got us. I can''t identify them, but it doesn''t matter. Any one of them could crack us open and eat us for breakfast. Somehow, we are drawing their attention."
"Captain! Look to the Skye. We''ve got more trouble coming!" Mariah was pointing to Skye.
Against the grey-white of the Skye, a dozen titanic cyclones could be seen dropping towards the smoke. Each was bright blue.
Ozzy had dropped down to the deck and moved to where woodrat was chained to the poop deck. "We have trouble, Mr. Ozzy. One of the greatest terrors of the smoke; it''s going to rain."
Chapter 241: Rain!
Ozzy gazed up at the cyclones dropping down into the smoke. "Can you fill me in on why rain is such a terrible thing? Assume I grew up somewhere else and use small words."
Woodrat started to speak, paused, and then said. "Rain is wet, wet and heat make steam, and steam is death. Small enough words?"
"Yeah, that will do it. Next question, is this shit common? Not death. Death seems way too common where ever I am. But how often do you get rain, and is it always big blue cyclones?"
Mariah landed on the deck next to them. "They''re called Thunderheads. They normally live high in the Skye as things start to get wet. The legends speak of an endless sea of pure water as big as the seas of smoke, with ships and islands in some strange parody of the smoke. The Thunderheads guard the Ocean and reside there. For one to come to the smoke is rare. They create havoc, and only some have that capacity for cruel amusement."
"This is something far different. Those are all mature creatures. Such a host appearing here would only happen if Evergreen requested it."
Woodrat started cursing. "Oh, hell. Someone sent a prayer to Evergreen, and she answered it. Most likely, some of the Queens got involved. She summoned Thunderheads to cool down the smoke. Most of the creatures in this area have fled or are dead. We will be too if we stay here. Those blue bastards will sweep the seas and dump rain as they go."
As if hearing his words, and wanting to make the captain''s statement true, one of the smaller and quicker Thunderheads broke away and moved towards them, coming lower and lower until it was almost down to the smoke. Maria said something horrible in a language none of them understood. "The bastard saw us. We''re hot and fast. It thinks we''re a challenge."
Woodrat laughed and shook his fist at the Thunderhead. "Does it now? They haven''t seen fast. I want all the sail we can get. Ozzy! Heat those two staysails and have the crew set up a third. I''m going to shift all the heat I can from the hull to the sails, then suck more out of the sea. Plenty of heat to draw on." Ozzy ran to follow orders, as did Mariah. Woodrat concentrated on the auric hull, commanding his ship to pull heat from the smoke and send it to the sails. The Thunderhead was gaining, but the Splinter was picking up speed!
Every sail was on fire and fully loaded with heat, and still, the cyclone gained on them. It was getting faster as it dumped the heavy water into the ocean. Behind the thunderhead was a wall of superheated steam carrying heat and moisture up into the cooler Skye. Woodrat yelled to the crew. "Get below decks in the forward compartment. Seal it as best you can, and there''s a chance you all survive." Most of the crew started moving. Derek didn''t budge from the crow''s nest. Mariah hesitated as well. "That''s an order, Mr. Derek. You too, Mariah. I''ve seen what happens when cyclones fight. That thing will strip your wind from you in a heartbeat. And no sense you dying either, Mr. Ozzy. If the ship doesn''t sink, wait a day and then take over the Splinter as Captain."
Ozzy didn''t move. "You might need me up here, I''m thinking. And I can take a little steam. I''m not allergic to water like Butterbelly or the rest of you that were raised in smoke and fire."
Woodrat nodded. "Have it your way. But don''t think I can''t see you''re planning something. You get that innocent, stupid look when you have a clever idea in that head of yours." Ozzy just smiled at him. He stood on the deck next to Woodrat, staring at the oncoming stormcloud. With a burst of speed, the Thunderhead dropped even lower and tried to pass over the ship. Ozzy was clutching the ship''s back rail and concentrating.
A shimmering bubble of grey force surrounded the Splinter, as tall as her mast and reaching out all around. The winds screamed and circled the dome, trying to shatter it, but the Thunderhead hadn''t been expecting such a move, and it was moving too fast. Steam rose around the ship, but not next to it where the dome extended down to the smoke.
Woodrat was laughing at the cyclone. "HA! I knew you had Shielding. It was the only way the two of us survived that first day of the eruption." The shield grew brighter. "It gets even better when another captain can add his aura to it. It''s the only way to shield the larger ships."
Ozzy felt the strain of holding the shield lessen as they moved past the area of steam but then doubled over in pain as a bolt of lightning arced through the air and struck at the ship. Most of it was reflected by his shield, but he and Woodrat both felt the strain. Woodrat laughed again. "That should have hurt a lot more! If you can resist storm damage, you have strong shields, Mr. Ozzy, nearly as strong as my not inconsiderable Aura."
Ozzy was happy about that, too but confused. "I''m just learning as I go. Do you mind explaining how this works?"
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Glad to help, and congratulations on using Shielding for the first time in defense of your ship. A captain''s shields will reflect damage taken by his ship in the event of collisions or damage from beasts or storms. The mitigation of the Captain''s Hull and his aura both add to the strength of the ship''s hull to protect it from harm, along with any strange resistances he might have. If multiple Captains are present, each Captain''s Shielding will protect the ship and be added together. The highest Aura will be used, and half of the Aura of lesser Captains. The damage will be spread among the Captains involved in shielding the ship.
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The following shields protect the Splinter:
Physical Damage = 270?(LV 4 Shield: +80, Monstrosity +60, Mitigation +60, Armored Hull +70)
Energy Damage = 300 (LV 4 Shield: + 80, LV 8 Aura +160, Monstrosity +60)
A Thunderbolt has struck the Splinter for 500 points of Damage. Because you absorbed the remaining damage yourself, the ship has taken no harm. If you save yourself, your ship and the crew will suffer.
|
Woodrat shook his head. "No clue, actually. I''ve seen it done before but never done it myself. I was hoping you could explain it to me once you figured it out. Without all your cheating conjunction tricks, a poor, hardworking captain like myself has to earn his Shielding the hard way. But I''ll get there!"
The cyclone was angry, lightning growing inside of it for another thunderbolt. It slowed to catch the Splinter again, but Woodrat moved the ship to a different course. The cyclone had to arrest its momentum to start after them again. Ozzy braced for another attack when the sea below the Thunderhead began to bubble and boil.
Out of the smoke came the beak of a giant Kraken, so close that Ozzy could see the barnacles on its beak and the bent harpoons stuck into its hide. The thunderhead was halfway down the Kraken''s maw before it tried to escape. Dozens of tentacles enveloped the whirlwind and forced it down the Kraken''s throat until there was a horrible wailing, and the winds died, releasing a large amount of water that exploded into steam.
Ozzy felt his shields nearly shatter from the force of the explosion, and he was half killed as he tried to absorb the physical damage himself. The Kraken didn''t get away unharmed; parts of it were blown off, the evidence being a twenty-foot-long chunk of tentacle that landed on the deck.
The heat moved around his shields and was absorbed into the ship''s hull and sails. Behind the Splinter, Thunderheads took to the sky, cautious now that the predators of the smoke had eaten some of their number. Two others had died, based on the explosions he saw in the distance. Now they hovered above the smoke, out of reach of the hungry Kraken. The line of Thunderheads reformed, high enough to be safe, and a gentle rain began to fall, turning into steam as it hit the smoke. Across the smoke, they marched, leaving behind cool and lifeless seas, with only a few hungry Kraken hoping for a chance to fill their stomachs with a rare delicacy.
Unharmed and her sails whole, Splinter moved away from rain and Kraken both, moving faster than the march of the Thunderheads. Far ahead and leagues away, a flare went off. Woodrat steered toward it. "I don''t know if I should hope that is the Dauntless or not. A sign of life is good, but they are in a horrible spot to keep living. We''ll do what we can."
Woodrat yelled loudly, his voice echoing into the hold. "Wake up! Nap time is over. The first mate and I have seen off a Thunderbolt and went fishing for Kraken. It gave me an appetite. It''s time to put your cooking to the test, Mr. Butterbelly."
The crew came up from the hold to find a chunk of Kraken as thick as a barrel lying on the deck. They''d heard the thunderhead''s explosion and death scream, yet the ship was unharmed, and the captain was smiling as if nothing had happened¡ªjust another day on the Good Ship Splinter.
| Your Shield has held in battle with Deep Kraken and Cyclones. You have gained the Perk: Shields are Holding! (Shielding +1)
You have gained an ability that will manifest in the Conjunction. |
Ozzy turned to Woodrat, and noticed the smaller man was standing straighter, hands on the ship''s wheel, and looking out over his ship. He seemed to be thinking hard. Ozzy stood next to him, watching the seas all around them, not seeing any danger. "Anything wrong?"
Woodrat grinned at him. "No, nothing I can put my finger on, and quite good in many ways. But with as much time as I''ve spent adrift, you learn to judge the currents. We''re moving fast now, you and I, and someone needs us to get somewhere. I can feel it. I''m also not going to complain too much. I risked my life every day I spent adrift on the smoke. At least now, the crap we get thrown into is interesting and rewarding. On the other hand, having something means I have something to lose."
"But I''ll ride this current as long as I can and dream some big dreams."
| With luck and daring, you have risen fast and can now claim the title of Captain by virtue of your rank and not just by right of command of your ship!
Welcome to level 11, Captain Woodrat.
For bringing your ship through a battle with Cyclones and Ancient Terrors of the Deep, you have been rewarded with Shielding (3) |
Chapter 242: Ship Ahoy!
Captain Cavendish released a small bit of his heat into the flare and sent it into the sky. Then he turned and addressed what was left of his crew. Of the eight hundred sailors that had once crewed Dauntless, only sixty-two were fit for work. Another four hundred and thirty-four were below in the hold, laying still and unconscious with heat from nearly burst furnaces burning them up.
"That was the last flare, and we have no messengers left unless you count prayers to the gods. And I fear they are occupied with weightier matters than one ship adrift in the smoke. Still, let us give thanks for what we have and pray to Evergreen that she will deal with this heat and send us aid in our hour of need."
A few men said prayers, but most had long since said what they needed to speak to their gods and now waited for an answer. The rum had run out two days ago, and the food would only last another week, even with so few men eating and only one meal a day. The ship had been low on food and heading to the port to restock when the current emergency had occurred, leaving them with little but the fresh fish they could catch. Many of the sailors wished for less food and more rum. The wood wrights had given away their food to their best friends and were chewing on scraps of pine. It was hard work on their jaws, but chewing wood gave more fuel than the thin broth and porridge the cook was reduced to making.
Cavendish saw that the lookout was signaling him of danger overhead. He aimed his telescope skyward and felt his heart miss a beat. Thunderheads were dropping from Skye. Evergreen had grown angry and was striking back at the eruption. Sadly, Dauntless was in their path and had no way to sail away. He was aware of the irony of his words to the crew, hoping that the gods would deal with this heat. He''d gotten an answer to his prayers, but not one he liked.
At least the lookout had seen the Thunderheads and given a warning. They were leagues away and had disappeared over the horizon as they got lower. They would form up and march across the smoke, dropping their cargo of water from the great oceans, and the smoke would explode into steam, and the heat would be carried up to heat the coldest areas of Skye. The smoke would return to normal, but not before Dauntless was turned into a ghost ship, sailing with a charred and steamed undead crew.
"Officers, report to my cabin. Mr. Trask, you have the helm." With only one top sail and a forward staysail lit up, even a half-trained midshipman could keep Dauntless on a slow and steady course. Again, the irony of the situation was painful. Hundreds of men were too hot to move, and yet he had not enough people to light the larger sails. Dauntless had three tall masts that supported a total of thirty-three sails. The largest of the three sails took over 50,000 heat create and more to bring them to full.
This would usually be done in port when a large complement of captains could aid in the task. While sailing the smoke, the sails were kept full by Cavendish and his officers. Two of his captains had died in the eruption. Poor Captain Sawyer had collapsed two days later in an attempt to light the mainsail, his furnace bursting as he tried to hold excess heat. Two more, Thompson and Carallo, were down below, unmoving. With only himself, Captain Shively, two midshipmen, and a 2nd mate, it would only be possible to get a fraction of the sails lit. The middies and his mate didn''t have enough heat or rank in Heating the Sails. They had planned to slowly light the smallest of the sails, with Cavendish bearing the bulk of the work. Their course would eventually put them back to the nearest island, even with a fraction of their sail alight. But with rain coming, slow and steady was no longer an option.
"Gentlemen, we have a problem." Usually, his quarters would be cramped for a full meeting of the ship''s officers. Today there was only himself, Captain Shively, Doctor Littleton, and Starsky, the Quartermaster. "The lookout has spotted Thunderheads dropping. A great amount of Thunderheads. They will bring rain to ease this damnable heat, and with rain comes the steaming fog that cooks men where they stand."
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He paused, letting them process the dilemma. Shively was the first to speak. "Can we shield against it, captain?" Cavendish shook his head. "Not without Thompson and Carallo, at the very least. The ship is too big, and the volume of steam we would need to push aside is too much."
Doctor Littleton looked stricken. "The injured below will never survive! They are too close to being claimed by the Burning Man! Can''t we flee? I know that''s not a word to use in the Queens'' Navy, but we can''t let them die."
Cavendish brought out a map. "Here is our current position, and the eruption point is far too close to us. The Thunderheads won''t just be ahead of us. The gods will drop thousands of them in a great circle around the eruption and then tighten the circle, forcing the excess heat up to Skye. We could turn and run, but the rain hits us when the circle is smaller, and the steam is heavier and hotter. If we move toward the cyclones, we have a slim chance to slip between two of them, and some of us live."
Captain Snively looked at the map and nodded. "That''s the plan, then. We''ll make it through." His smile was forced, and his eyes showed he didn''t believe they had any chance.
Cavendish paced back and forth and made a decision. "I commend you for your bravery, Captain, but I must ask something hard of you. I must ask you to leave the Dauntless and save who we can."
"Leave, sir? I don''t understand."
"Dauntless has little hope of surviving, but we have a longboat left. I want her rigged for sailing immediately and loaded with what provisions we have. You will take command and flee the area. You have two ranks in Shielding and four in Aura, enough to cover the ship and push away the steam if you are moving fast. You will be taking our good Doctor and Midshipman Styles. Style''s old family heritage grants him two Aura, even at a young age."
Littleton''s eyes narrowed. "And who else? You know you risk a mutiny. Every man will want to be in that boat."
Cavendish smiled. "It would be a weak one, and I still have my aura. You will take Thomspon and Carallo in hopes they might recover. I''m sure the first mate will not leave me, but the 2nd mate will be happy to save his own skin. Pick a dozen more of the best we have left. I''ll light your sails to save your heat. You''ll need speed to make it through. Now let''s get to it."
With only bad choices and the habit of following orders, the longboat was loaded, and chains were rigged to hold the sails. It would be a month of sailing with little navigation, food, and a slim chance of making it home. But it was better than what would happen to the rest of the crew.
"Ship Ahoy!"
The lookout''s excited voice came from the top of the main mast. "Dead ahead, sir, and coming in fast. She has a full set of sails on fire, sir, cutting through the smoke hard."
Hope stirred inside every man who heard the lookout''s voice.
Cavendish was up the chains in a moment, climbing two-thirds of the way to the top for a better view. His spyglass quickly found the ship. Her sails were hot, and her hull was bright. The ship was ancient. It had been at least six centuries since the navy had commissioned a ship with an auric hull. "Damn me, what ship is that?"
The lookout took his spoken question as an order. "The Splinter, sir. Commanded by Captain Woodrat. She''ll be on us in half a bell, sir."
The Splinter! Cavendish stayed in the rigging, looking at the small ship. It seemed Captain Woodrat had a few tricks up his sleeves besides riding whales during an eruption. He slid down the ladder, showing off skills learned in a career at sea and settling many bets about whether the Captain could still run the chains. He might have a last bottle of wine hidden in his cabin under the carpet. Best get that out so he could at least drink to Captain Woodrat''s health as promised.
Chapter 243: Rendering Aid
It was another evening of celebration aboard the Splinter. The ship had survived an encounter with an angry Thunderhead and a Leviathan from the deep, and their Captain had earned a promotion. Any of these was a reason to break out the rum, but they also had a feast unlike any other to attend. Butterbelly began weeping fiery tears when he saw the Kraken tentacle. "I get to cook this?! I am going to brag about this for all my years." He laughed as the tears ran down his face, and he got to work.
The chunk of meat he cut off of the tentacle was just a tiny fraction of its length and the size of a large barrel. He marinaded the chunk and rubbed the sauce onto every surface before stuffing it into the oven. For hours the firewalker cooked the slab of meat, taking it out to peel off the cooked outer layer and slather on more sauce before returning it to the heat. The savory smell of baked Kraken flowed out behind the Splinter, attracting a giant razor-finned trout. The sharp-edged predators were known for following ships in packs hoping for a man overboard.
Not one to let fresh fish get away, Woodrat slowed the ship to let the fish catch up, and Ozzy put a harpoon into it. He fought with the trout for ten minutes before he could reel in his chain and drag it up. The trout looked small compared to the Kraken tentacle at only ten feet long and a thousand pounds. Ozzy wrapped it in layers of smoke and put it in the hold for Butterbelly to cook when he had time.
After several hours the ship''s cook was satisfied with his meal. The Kraken meat was tender and rich, providing a large amount of smoke and fuel. The crew sat and, for the second time that week, had a party as the ship sped in the direction of the flare. A double watch was kept all night with two crew and a navigator on duty. The rest of the crew slept soundly in their hammocks.
As Skye''s morning light came down, every hand was awake and on deck, with several in the rigging. In every direction, they could see white plumes of steam moving upward as a circle of Thunderheads moved toward the eruption. It was midmorning when Derek spotted the Dauntless. "Captain, set course for five degrees to starboard. I can see her. She has two small sails lit and is moving slowly."
Woodrat adjusted course, and it was only a short time before they were coming up on Dauntless. The ship was nearly as big as The Conquest. She was hurt, missing most of her sails and chains, but she wasn''t dead yet. The crew was working on the deck and in the rigging.
Even damaged, she was magnificent. She had made it through the eruption and now was threatened by the rain and Thunderheads. She wasn''t his ship, but Woodrat knew he had to help save her if that was even possible.
As Splinter moved toward the larger ship, Captain Cavendish brought the Dauntless to a standstill, slowing the immense ship with the small amount of sail she was flying. Splinter came up on her fast. Far faster than Cavendish had ever seen a ship move. Her auric hull was pulling heat from the waves, and there was an inexhaustible supply. Splinter''s sails were at full power with deeply layered flames. Despite the ship''s speed, its captain had no trouble turning and racing around Dauntless twice as she slowly came to a halt. Captain Woodrat was showing off and living up to his legend as ''The Captain that rode a Whale.''
The disparity between the two ships was apparent to all. Dauntless could barely make way, and the crew was exhausted and thin. The crew of the Splinter were all fit and healthy, scrambling through the chains and adjusting the sails as the Captain bellowed orders. Cavendish waited at the rail as the Splinter came beside Dauntless. Captain Woodrat saluted, and Cavendish returned it.
Captain Woodrat spoke politely," Can we render you aid, sir? There''s a nasty bit of rain coming." If it might seem odd that such a small ship was coming to the aid of a larger one, Cavendish was well aware of how much his ship needed the offered help.
"Dauntless is happy to accept aid from Splinter, and any debts will be repaid double by the Queens'' Navy and in any port where our two crews drink together. In the essence of haste, I would like to ask that we dispense with formalities. My men are starving, and worse, we are out of rum. I have crewmen below who suffer from overheating, and as you can see, we lack sail and chain to gain speed. We request any and all help that you can give."
Woodrat smiled and relaxed a bit. This wasn''t a captain to fiddle in the crow''s nest as his ship went down. He doffed his hat and laughed. "Good enough. Let''s get to work, and my crew will earn those drinks." He turned and bellowed out orders.
"Mr. Butterbelly and Mr. Ozzy, get a cargo net slung, and let''s load up a dozen barrels of sausage and two barrels of rum. Then take the rest of our recent dinner to the Dauntless and get it cooked up. I won''t see good Kraken turned into sausage when we have starving sailors to feed."
He turned to the Butcher. "They''ve got men down to heat. Do what you can. We''ll save who can be saved and mourn those we can''t."
A boom was swung over the Splinter, and a chain lowered to hoist the cargo. Then Ozzy ran up the ladder and waved off the men rigging block and tackle. "No need; I can lift this little bit before I get started below." Cavendish nodded to his first mate, who waved the men back. The Captain of the Dauntless recognized the large first mate from their first encounter. He couldn''t tell how strong he was by looking at him but was getting an odd feeling from him. If he said he could lift a dozen barrels, he believed him. That strength was proven as Ozzy effortlessly pulled up the cargo net containing barrels of food and grog. After the boom was swung around and the net was lowered to the deck, he grabbed a barrel and ripped the lid off.
The wonderful smell of smoked meat filled the air. Cavendish yelled down. "Don''t stand on ceremony. Get something to eat and renew your smoke and fuel; we have much work to do." A midshipman ran down and brought back a dozen sausages for the captain and navigator. Cavendish was determined to find where Captain Woodrat found supplies for his ship. Or were these delicacies meant for sale on some island? Cavendish shrugged and grabbed another sausage. The navy would pay either way. And right now, they needed the food.
His first mate approached him. "Begging the Captain''s pardon, but the men are asking about a bit of rum to go with the meal. I want to request a quarter flagon for each."
Cavendish nodded. "Reasonable, since many have had to go without. I would have thought you''d ask for more."
The mate shook his head. "Not this rum, sir. I don''t know who aged it and for how many decades, but it''s old, strong, and burns like a demon in your stomach. Their mate said it was salvaged from an old wreck, and I believe him. Anyone that drinks a full flagon isn''t going to be fit to work for the rest of the day. We can give them a bit now and a bit at nightfall. Their chef says he''ll cook up a feast for us."
Cavendish smiled. The sausage felt like a feast today, and regular ships fair was salted fish, hard-tack bread, and maybe some fresh fish. "That sounds fine. What is their chef cooking up for us?"
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The mate hesitated. "He says Captain Woodrat went fishing and caught a Deep Kraken. I''d call the man a liar, except he''s twelve foot tall and showed me a cuttlefish tentacle as long as the two of us put together. They will transfer it to Dauntless and cook it on the main deck."
Cavendish kept his face impassive. "Carry on then, and give the crew of Splinter what help they need. I''m looking forward to dinner."
Ozzy went below to the hold where he''d been told there were overheated sailors. He had a small cask of rum on his shoulder that he''d been brewing for some time. The alcohol was mixed with ground salad berries, and he''d imbued as much of his smoke into it as it would take. Just a shot glass of the stuff should help anyone belch out their excess heat and start their healing.
He was unprepared for what he saw. The injured sailors lay everywhere, on the deck, and in hammocks strung everywhere to hold them. The room reeked of death and char. He could see the heat in them. Everyman was on the edge of dying. Behind a makeshift wall in another section of the hold, he could hear charred sailors moaning and screaming, not quite accepting their fate.
"Not a pretty sight, is it." The ship''s doctor looked like he hadn''t slept in a week and probably hadn''t. "But it will be all over soon. One way or another. Tell the Captain I''m not leaving them. I''ll stay and share their fate. And my apologies, sailor, I should know your name, but I''m just too tired to recall it."
"No reason you should, sir. I''m the first mate on the Splinter. We just came alongside, and I came down to help. But there are so many of them."
He sat down the barrel, tapped it, and poured a shot of alcohol. The doctor sniffed it. "This is a medicine?"
Ozzy smiled a bit. "Depends on what ails you. Let''s call it Strawberry Surprise for now." He went to the nearest man, carefully put a large hand on his brow, and pulled heat from him while the doctor watched with suspicion. He wasn''t sure what the average sailor had for heat, but some might only have a couple hundred. "Doc? How much heat can a man take before his furnace bursts? How much over are they?"
"An odd question. But most medical journals agree that at an extra 200 heat, a sailor will burst his furnace, release his heat, and join the charred. More for a mate, closer to 500. And captains have been known in some extremes to take on as much as a thousand extra heat, most often in an attempt to light a sail that is normally beyond them."
Ozzy nodded. "Makes sense. So taking a couple hundred should safely cool them off." He pulled two hundred heat from the man and into his furnace. Then as the stricken sailor stirred, he put the rum to his lips. No sailor in the smoke refused rum, and these men were thirsty. The sailor gulped it down, choked, and opened his eyes wide. Ozzy aimed him away from other people as he belched out fire and smoke. The doctor was next to them immediately. "He''s better. Much better! How did you do that?"
"I stole his heat. Not sure how you feel about that, but it''s all that will save them."
The doctor nodded numbly. "I''ll think about it later. Let me get more men down here to help."
Minutes later, Ozzy was walking from sailor to sailor, pulling heat from each one. Behind him came the doctor and other men giving each their ''medicine'' to purge them of the excess heat. After sixty men, Ozzy paused. He was pushing too much heat into his furnace. He could go over that limit, but it started affecting him. Too much and he''d be on his back like those he was trying to help. "I''ll be back. I need to dump some heat, and I notice you lack a lot of sails."
Climbing up from the hold, Ozzy looked for someone who might know something about the ship''s sails. He walked unsteadily up to younger man in a Captain''s coat and hat. He was chewing on a sausage as he directed several sailors making chains to replace what had broken during the eruption. "Pardon me, sir, is there a sail you need lit? I need to dump some heat."
A few sailors laughed at the question, and some rolled their eyes. Captain Shively glared at them. He''d heard that this was the man who made the sausage, and for that alone, he would get a polite answer to his question. "Thank you for the help. If you have extra heat, use it to reinforce the staysail we have alight. The top sail would do as well, but that''s quite a climb."
Ozzy shook his head. "I need to pull heat from all of the men below. And to do that I need to make some room in my furnace. How much does it take to light that big one? Sorry, we only have seven sails on the Splinter, and I still get those confused."
Again there was laughter, and again Captain Shively glared at the men, and this time pushed his aura towards them, indicating his displeasure. "Captain Woodrat and Splinter have come to help. You will be polite, or you''ll be scrubbing barnacles off of the hull." He turned to the big first mate from the Splinter with a smile. He''d have to ask Captain Woodrat if an injury had caused his...confusion. Many of his own crew were somewhat delusional at the moment, not entirely incapacitated by heat but not right in their heads. "That''s the main sail and takes over 50,000 heat to create it. We managed to light it once after it was blown out during the eruption, but that was with four Captains working together. It''s far beyond us now."
Shively humored the big man and gave a small tour of the ship, pointing out where different sails should go and how much heat they would take to create. Woodrat noticed and broke off the conversation with Cavendish, saying, "We should go watch this. He''s got that look again."
"I think the main sail will do. Could you tell everyone to stay clear of it? I don''t want to roast anyone." Ozzy stepped forward and made sure that no one was in the way.
Cavendish looked questioningly at Woodrat, who just smiled and said. "Wait for it..."
Everyone on board felt the change in the air as the big first mate from the Splinter inhaled. It was as if he was pulling the heat from the air. That was followed by a plume of fire from his mouth as he exhaled, the heat flowing from him for several seconds, followed by the main sail bursting into flame as it was created. There was a pause, and then the crew began cheering. Captain Cavendish clapped loudly. "Well done, Mr. Ozzy. Well done. And thank you for assisting him, Captain Shively. May I ask how many ranks you have in creating sails? It''s unusual for a mate to have so many."
Ozzy read his latest notification. "I just made it to rank 6. You''ll have to excuse me. I need to help the doctor with some of the sailors below. I''ll be back up to do some of the others. The lads below have a lot of heat to bleed off." Without waiting for an answer or permission he leaped back into the hold.
Captain Shively and Cavendish converged on Captain Woodrat who was enjoying the spectacle of a hundred sailors with their mouths open like fishies. "How the devil does that man have a furnace so huge?! He''s a mate yet has more than three times my heat!"
Shively looked at the sail again. "And six times my own. Gods help me, I thought I was humoring a half-wit when he asked to light a sail. I''m glad I didn''t say something to anger him."
Woodrat said in a calm voice. "No, you really don''t want to do that. The last time I saw him angry was when he was breaking apart the Conquest while I was dueling with Lord Pearson. He''s something to behold when he''s upset."
Shively went pale, and Cavendish blinked twice. Both glanced to the Splinter, the recently lit sail, and then Captain Woodrat. Cavendish recovered his aplomb. "I believe I have a bottle of wine in my cabin. Perhaps the three of us can retire there for half a bell and drink it. And I would love to hear your advice on where we go from here, Captain Woodrat."
Chapter 244: Five Captains Courageous
The mood aboard Dauntless changed drastically over the next day. The eruption was still throwing too much heat at them, and the threat of the Thunderheads was on every horizon, but the sudden appearance of the Splinter and the hope she brought gave them a chance. The starving sailors had food in their bellies and a moving ship beneath them. They could deal with the heat for now, and the rain was for tomorrow.
On the main deck, Butterbelly was still cooking Kraken, aided now and then by Ozzy. The firewalker moved between multiple chunks of roasting Kraken, spreading the sauce over each piece of meat, sealing in the juices, and adding spice to the rich flavor of the ancient Kraken. The butcher would pause in his labors to wrap the food in layers of heat and smoke.
Time and again, he went down to the hold and pulled the heat from ailing sailors until his furnace was full to the point of bursting. The amount of Heat he carried nearly overwhelmed him, but there were always more sailors in reach who needed his help.
Captain Shively guided him back on deck to one sail after another. He lit each in turn, spewing out the heat from his belly until the largest twelve sails on the ship were ablaze. Each time he emptied his furnace of heat, he would wearily walk to where Butterbelly was cooking and eat pounds of food and a flagon of rum. Refreshed, he would add smoke to the meat and then head back down to pull the heat from another hundred sailors. It was late in the evening when he had finally finished. Some sailors would require more rest, but none were in danger of becoming charred.
The three captains joined him for the final labor, dealing with the charred sailors in the forward hold. Knowing this was mercy and would send their souls on a journey to be reborn made the job only a little easier. The butcher became impassive as he approached the barricade. The screams increased but then died off to pitiful whimpering. Ozzy pushed aside the barrier and strode into the room where charred sailors stood or sat quietly, looking at him.
Cavendish whispered to Woodrat. "What is happening here? I expected a struggle. They are just waiting for the headsman''s stroke."
Woodrat had drawn his sword along with the others, getting a few stares as he did so. He gestured with the blade at the butcher. "He''s a little touched. He told me a yarn about drinking with Gods of the Hunt and Death. I''ve grown to believe it. The undead sense that in him and know he''s sending them to a better place."
One sailor leaped at Ozzy, screaming. The butcher swung an oversized cleaver and took off its head in one swing. Woodrat chuckled. "Well, most of them do. And he has a unique talent when it comes to dealing with those that don''t appreciate him." One by one, the butcher cut off their heads, releasing their souls to race down into the smoke and get in line for a ship heading back to the land of the living. The remains of their bodies turn to a fine ash. Two cabin boys were set on the task of sweeping up the ash. It would be returned to an island to be mixed with the soil there.
Most of the crew of the Dauntless were up and about now, eating to replenish their fuel and smoke. Any excess heat they absorbed was used to heat the sails further. Captains Woodrat, Shively, and Cavendish worked together to light the smaller sails the Butcher had left for them. The large square sails provided the power, but the smaller, triangular staysails and top gallants made her easier to steer.
Ozzy sat with the doctor, drinking rum until the exhausted physician passed out and was put to bed by the crew. Sailors he had cured came by to drink with the Butcher, who seemed to have a vast capacity for alcohol. Men and Women from Dauntless volunteered to go aboard Splinter and allow the crew of the smaller ship to mingle with the larger crew and tell stories while eating and drinking. Splinter''s crew weren''t shy about showing off their fancy loot and their awards for their part in the demise of Lord Pearson. That story was told many times as the night wore on, as were many others. Some of the sailors on the larger ship had their own stories to tell. Monsters, pirates, and strange happenings weren''t reserved for Captain Woodrat and his peculiar crew, but everyone agreed they were getting a larger share than most.
There were some doubters among the sailors and a few jealous of the magic swords and armor. No ship was without its grumpy or sour individuals. They were told to shut up by the rest of the crew, many of which had been near death until saved by the miraculous appearance of Captain Woodrat and his ship of gold.
| Saving those near death has its rewards. At least for you.
Aspect of Heat has reached Rank 8
Heat the Sails has achieved Rank 8
RAD has reached Rank 3 and a total of 23 (unmodified).
INT has reached Rank 5 and a total of 18
You are only partially Shadowed. |
It was very late when a sailor came and asked Ozzy to stand for ''a fitting''. "Captains say you should have a nice coat. I''ve got one in storage I can add fabric to so it fits your frame." An hour later, he was done, and Woodrat appeared on deck with Cavendish and the other four captains of the Dauntless. They motioned for the sailors to gather around and then spoke to Ozzy. "Captain Woodrat informed me that you were recently promoted from Mate to Captain. A small ship like Splinter may have only one slot for Captains, but Dauntless has an open one. With Captain Woodrat''s permission, I would like to promote you to the position of Honorary Captain of the Queens'' ship, Dauntless. And, of course any Captain needs a coat."
The coat was made of heavy cloth and unadorned, befitting his status as a new captain. It had hurriedly been altered and dyed a deep blue, almost black. Two of the Captains helped the nearly drunk Ozzy into it. He managed a few words and drank another round with the crew''s cheering sailors. Woodrat looked him up and down. "That''s a good look for you, quite imposing."
Ozzy smiled; the coat did feel good. "I''m just glad it''s an honorary position. I don''t think I know the first thing about steering a ship this size or being a captain."
Cavendish winked at him. "Luckily, Captain Woodrat assures me you''re a fast learner."
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Ozzy had a sinking feeling. Woodrat was smiling, and that sparkle was in his eye. "We have a plan."
Shively had a whole jug of rum in one hand and took Ozzy by the arm. "A cunning plan, and one that might even work. Let''s retire to Captain Cavendish''s comfortable cabin, and we''ll explain why you''ll be on the bridge of the Dauntless tomorrow as we charge into the Thunderheads."
Captain Cavendish seated them at his table. Tea and the last of his almond biscuits were served. Captains Thompson and Carallo were encouraged to eat another bear-braised Kraken steak meal to refill their fuel for the next day. Ozzy was chewing on sausages, having already had three plates of Kraken that day.
"Firstly, I must again extend thanks to the Splinter for coming to our aid and Captains Woodrat and Ozzy for aiding us in tomorrow''s attempt to run to safety. The plan involves shielding Dauntless and Splinter using the same shield. Normally I''d never attempt such a maneuver with only myself as a Captain of the 5th Tier. The loss of Captain Sawyer and Captain Beuclair dealt us a harsh blow. But I''ve been told Captain Ozzy has a peculiar talent from the conjunction that works as shielding here in the smoke?"
All eyes turned to Ozzy. "Aye. In the conjunction, I have a skill that shields me from heat and flame. I''ve been exercising it here and was rewarded with the Shielding Skill. I''ve managed to raise it to Rank 5. My other protections tie into my shields as well."
Captain Thompson observed the heavy layers of muscle and large frame of the man sipping tea across from him. "You look to have taken at least a Heavy Hull? I''ve always advocated for that, but not many midshipmen take the skills, and the academy ignores them versus focusing on the benefits of a high aura."
Ozzy set down his tea. "A little more than that. I earned Armored Hull in the Smoke but already had similar skills. With my Shielding up to Rank 5, I can put up 290 points of Physical Protection." The casual way he mentioned it was unnerving to the other captains, Thompson and Carallo. Cavendish was pleased with their reaction. Captain Shively already held the Captains from the Splinter in high esteem, which would be essential for their plan to work.
There was a pecking order among Captains, and usually, any officer of the Dauntless would hold themselves as superior to a Captain of a much smaller ship. That wasn''t the case here. Captain Woodrat held one of the Seven Swords and commanded an ancient Ship of Gold. Captain Ozzy was a giant of a man that most of the crew were convinced of being touched by the Burning Man. Saving the lives of several hundred sailors and lighting sails with only his fiery breath was enough to shatter the established order. Cavendish needed that. His junior Captains had to see Ozzy as worthy of steering Dauntless, or their aura wouldn''t reinforce his own.
Captain Thompson was taken back for a moment. "290? Yes, that''s a good amount of shield. Adding that to Captain Cavendish will protect us from major damage to the ship from winds that a Cyclone can throw at us." He smiled. "And, assuming we survive, I''ll be able to push harder for our ''young gentlemen'' to improve their protections. How are we set for aura?"
Cavendish answered that. "Surprisingly good. My own is rank 12. Captain Shively has reached rank 6, and the two of you are four each. Captain Ozzy has focused on his shielding alone, but Captain Woodrat can add his impressive aura of 8."
Woodrat tried for the polite tones of a Captain, but he couldn''t keep a grin off his face and a bit of mirth out of his voice. "I''ve managed to raise that somewhat. My sword is pleased with my progress and judges me as somewhat less of a rogue."
| You have progressed the Quest: Seven Captains Ablaze!
Your aura is increased by +5.
But be wary; you will be tested, and this reward will fade if you don''t live up to your legend. |
"So that puts me to a 13, along with a Shielding skill of +3, thanks to our most recent battle that downed a Thunderhead and gave us a tasty dinner."
Cavendish bowed low. "I will be happy to add my aura to reinforce your superior aura." There were murmurs from the other captains.
Woodrat took a moment to polish the cufflinks on his coat. They began to shine and glow. "I think it''s time to use these little baubles as well. Lord Peerson had a few secrets he kept to himself."
| Lord Peerson''s 2nd best cufflinks.
These non-magical cufflinks are made of silver with tiny pearls set as decorations. Good enough for formal dress and cheap enough to have several sets.
These enchanted cufflinks may be used in three ways:
Shining Bright: add +7 to a Captain''s Aura. This effect will fade each day by 1 point and then become +7 again.
2nd Best: Non-magical and quite dull.
No one important: You''re Aura is suppressed and even those who know you will dismiss you as no one worth their time. |
There was silence from the table, and then Ozzy chuckled. "I wondered what those things really did. You weren''t nearly as disappointed with them as you should have been."
Cavendish smiled broadly. "Excellent, sir! Bloody excellent! This gives us more than a chance of succeeding. With Captain Ozzy as the main shield and Captain Woodrat providing this splendid aura, we can make a run for safety." He began to use teapots and saucers as Thunderheads, a butter dish as the Dauntless, and Splinter was represented by a knife. "We start moving tomorrow at the first hint of light and build as much speed as we can with Dauntless. As we approach the line of Cyclones, Splinter will pull in tight against us, and our Shield will protect her as well as Dauntless. We''ll be facing off against at least one Thunderhead, and maybe more. Evergreen has commanded them to tighten their circle and deal with the eruption, so we shouldn''t be chased. But they are spiteful creatures. The danger will be short and extreme."
Woodrat blew out a bit of smoke, forming the silhouette of a Kraken on the table. "It''s a shame we can''t invite the damned cuttlefish to join the party. When they were around before, most Cyclones kept their distance."
Ozzy stared into space for a full minute, and Woodrat turned to look at him, wondering what was going on in his head.
The butcher smiled. "I have an idea about that."
Chapter 245: Blockade Runners
An hour before dawn saw Dauntless moving toward the rain with all sails at full heat. Splinter sailed beside her, sprinting ahead and cutting to port and starboard as Captain Woodrat grilled his Navigator on small tricks of steering and moving the heat in the sails to get the most speed out of the ship. It hadn''t gone well at first.
After almost putting the ship onto its side with an overly aggressive tack, the argument got heated.
"I can steer a ship as well as you can! I can feel the heat and smoke better than you and react faster." Mariah was at the helm with Woodrat near her and calling out orders or offering advice.
The Captain rolled his eyes. "Just like a windstorm to think they know it all. Have you ever wondered why every story where a Cyclone gets tricked and bound is because of their pride? I don''t doubt you have a better sense of the smoke than I do. I''m only a wee little human with barely a breath of wind inside me. So why can I outsail you?"
"You cheat! I don''t know how, but you cheat! Things always go your way."
Woodrat smiled. "Well, yes. You can call it that. But here''s the secret: You can''t just look for how to make the ship go faster. You also need to expect things to go wrong. Shit always happens on the smoke. A current you didn''t expect turns the ship. Some beastie latches on for a ride or gets in your way. A hand doesn''t pull a chain tight enough, and a sail loses some heat. You need to anticipate every way things can go wrong and make sure they don''t happen. The Gods know I have enough experience seeing how things go wrong."
"Have your first mate check the sails, then check them yourself. Watch the smoke and judge the waves and currents. See where they work against you. If you can learn to see what''s wrong as well as what''s right, you might end up a better Captain than I am."
They argued for another two hours as the ships made their way to a rendevous with the Thunderheads.
Ozzy''s plan had left everyone staring at him as if he was mad. "We need to bring along a Kraken to help out."
Cavendish held up a hand. "Hear, the man out, if only for entertainment. But I don''t see any of you with a legendary title to your name. Of course, he''s crazy. How do you think you earn such a title?"
Ozzy explained his idea. "What made the Kraken come up to meet the Thunderheads? It''s obvious they find them tasty, but how did they know? It''s the cold they bring. As they drop down, full of water, they cool the smoke under them, telling the Kraken it''s snack time. If we can get a Kraken near Dauntless, it will force the Thunderheads higher up, where they can''t attack the ships directly. We can deal with the rain. But we can''t have some of them converge on us and come lower to batter us with their winds and lightning."
Captain Shively looked interested. "But how do we bring one up? And more, keep it from eating us as well."
Ozzy leaned back in his chair, which groaned in protest. "Well, as far as I can tell, when you want to catch a fish, you throw out a line with some bait. Talking with some of the older hands, they tell me there isn''t much difference between fishing for a whale and a Kraken. You need a good lure, a chunk of meat, and enough chain. And I happen to know Captain Woodrat has a lure in his treasure."
Cavendish was trying to figure out the plan. "You propose that Dauntless drop a chain with a lure and pull a Kraken behind her? A big one could break us in two."
"Not Dauntless. We''ll go fishing with Splinter."
Woodrat looked surprised, then pleased. "I see where you are going with this. We fish up something big, stay ahead, and drag it over to Dauntless just as we break the line. With hot sails, nothing can catch us. I look forward to the job."
Ozzy held up a hand. "Two problems with that. The first is that Splinter needs to dump a lot of her heat. She''ll attract Kraken faster. When you pull heat from the auric hull to the sails, you make room to pull heat from the sea to the hull. The Splinter leaves a trail of cold smoke behind her when she does that. With Kraken already in the area and the lure calling, at least one Kraken will follow as Splinter comes in close to Dauntless and slides into her shields."
Woodrat nodded. That made sense, and why they had attracted a Kraken so close to the ship before. "And the second?"
"You won''t be steering Splinter; Mariah will. We need you on Dauntless for your shields."
Woodrat''s mouth opened and closed. His eyes narrowed, and he almost wasted good rum by throwing the bottle at his first mate. Instead, he filled up his mug and drank it down. "By the gods, I need more rum if I''m going to turn over my pretty ship to that Cyclone. Of all the situations you''ve dumped me into, this is the craziest."
One of the old hands on Dauntless was a master of scrimshaw. He looked at the whale lure and added the runes to attract a Kraken. Then it was wrapped inside a hard-cured piece of the tentacle Butterbelly had been cooking. Ozzy and Woodrat poured smoke and heat into it until it glowed. All of the crew had been working on making chain. Ozzy took five strands and wove them into a strong cable with a strand of auric in the center. The lure would be kept hot with heat from the Splinter''s hull. A thousand feet of cable was loaded aboard Splinter in preparation for fishing.
Woodrat delayed to the end before heading to Dauntless. Mariah was annoyed by this. "You don''t trust me to do a good job?"
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Woodrat smiled at her. "I trust you as much as I trust myself. I have no doubts that you''ll bring my lady safely out of danger. What worries me is whether or not I''ll see either of you again. We''re sailing into danger, and as grand a ship as Dauntless may be, she isn''t Splinter. She''s big and can take a lot of damage. We might make it through, but we might not. If the worst happens, don''t look back. Take Splinter and run hard to safer seas."
"And you should wear these." He took off the ancient coat and hat he had won from Captain Blackfetter. Wordlessly, Mariah put them on. Then she kissed him on the cheek. He saluted her and left for his spot on Dauntless.
Sharthezel heard something, a call from above that disturbed her light sleep. She had fed well; it would be years before she went back to a deep sleep in the depths. The young Cyclone had been tasty and rich, full of so much air and wet that she couldn''t remember the last time she had feasted so well. She and her sisters had lurked near the new land for weeks, knowing that sooner or later, the green goddess would call down the Thunderheads to cool the seas so she could claim the new island.
She had been surprised when the little ones had helped lure a cyclone near her. The ship had cooled the smoke, alerting her to its location, and the Thunderhead had pounced on the bait. Like a patient hunter, she had pounced and consumed nearly all of it. The storm had been so wet that it exploded into steam, blowing off a few of her many limbs. She hadn''t minded. Once part of her, they would eventually make their way back. Except for one. She had gifted one of her limbs to the little ones. They would worship her by eating her flesh and making themselves strong. Bit by bit, she felt her flesh disappear. Nothing was as tasty as Kraken. She should know. She had hunted her own kind when there was nothing else to eat.
Part of her was calling, and she looked upward. The Thunderheads were still moving toward the new land but staying high, out of reach. But the little ones were trying to bait them down again. How kind of them. They were undoubtedly the best bait. Two of their ships now moved above her, covered in heat and fire, daring the Thunderheads to chase them, and the Cyclones had noticed. Sharthezel moved upward, following the tiny bit of herself that swam behind the cooler of the two ships. She was waiting for a chance at another meal.
Behind her, the lesser of her kind followed. Some hoped for scraps, and others wished to hunt for their own meal. All respected the old one, and none moved past Sharthezel. They would delay until after she struck or possibly become her meal themselves.
Derek scanned the horizon, estimating the distance to the Thunderheads and calling it out. Butterbelly kept a hand on the cable holding the bait, trying to feel if anything had taken it. Unnoticed, the last few feet of uncooked tentacle moved slightly. The massive chunk of meat was hanging from a hook and chain from one of the yards. Meat rearranged itself, and the little piece of the great Kraken opened one eye and then another, keeping watch on the sky.
Behind them, large creatures grew closer to the surface. Derek could see them as darker parts of the smoke following in their wake. "We have at least one, maybe more on our tail."
Mariah turned the wheel. "We''re heading to Dauntless then. Pay attention to my commands. Some of these maneuvers will throw the ship around. So make sure you''re tied down tight." She pulled heat from the hull and forced it into the sails. Splinter leaped ahead over the choppy sea, leaving a long line of cooled smoke behind her. No Kraken ever had a better map leading to a meal.
Aboard Dauntless, the lookout called down. "Captain! Splinter is signaling she has fish on the hook and is coming up behind us." Captain Cavendish acknowledged the message and turned to his Captains. "It is time. Captain Ozzy, you have the wheel, and we will add to your shields. Captain Woodrat, your aura is the most powerful; we will add our own after you have reinforced the ship''s shields."
Ozzy took the wheel. He wouldn''t have to change course, simply keep the ship moving straight ahead. He slowly became aware of each of the dozens of sails. They interacted with each other in strange ways, passing heat back and forth and making minute changes in the sails. Just moving dead ahead seemed complex. He wondered how a Captain could handle all of this in the middle of a battle. Cavendish put his shield over the ship. Woodrat added his own shielding and then his aura. One by one, all the others did as well. The glowing shield extended out into the smoke on either side, far enough for a small ship to be covered if they could move close enough.
Splinter had moved in a wide loop, letting Dauntless take the lead, and now came up upon the slower ship. She slowed abruptly as she came aside Dauntless, matching speeds and slowly moving closer until only thirty feet separated the two ships, and she was just inside the shield. Linked now, the two ships moved ahead toward the line of Thunderheads. Dauntless had been aimed at the gap between two waterspouts, and now both moved into the gap to intercept the big ship. Lower and lower, they came, picking up speed. The seas behind the ships were clear.
Woodrat looked around the ships. "I can''t help but notice our fishing expedition took the bait and ran, Captain Ozzy."
Ozzy was concerned himself. The Kraken hadn''t been shy about showing up during their last encounter. "Sometimes you catch the fish, sometimes the fish catches you."
"Remind me not to go fishing with you in the conjunction!"
Chapter 246: Clever Little Helpers
The ring of Thunderheads moved toward the eruption at a steady pace, dropping moisture as they went that cooled the smoke. Behind them were massive clouds of steam carrying the heat upward. The gap between the cyclones was half what it had been when Splinter had first encountered them, making it harder to run between them. The only hope the ships had was in speed and the strength of their shields. The Cyclones knew they were coming, and the two nearest them slowly moved together to block them. The Thunderheads had been told to cool the smoke, and the flaming sails on the ships were an insult to them.
One of the Cyclones was larger than the other. Ozzy dubbed them Frick and Frack. Frack was bigger, but Frick was faster. As Dauntless bore down on them, the two waterspouts almost seemed to be arguing as they bumped into each other, and lightning flashed between them. Finally, Frick tried to move forward, only for Frack to knock him backward. After that, the smaller Cyclone moved to the rear.
Ozzy was getting a strange feeling like someone was watching him. He concentrated on the feeling. I seemed familiar, and finally, he realized it was his Herd Sense, but he wasn''t the dominant personality this time. Something nearby was aware of him and aware of Dauntless. It was like he was a dog being told he was a ''Good Boy.'' He wasn''t worried about the Thunderheads anymore. His job was to move straight ahead and lure them down. His protector was nearby, directly below him, hiding in the shadow of the ships and keeping pace.
Frack took the bait, coming lower and dropping rain. The moisture hit the shields and slid off them, draining a little heat from each of the Captains. Angered at this, the Thunderhead unleashed a lightning bolt at the main mast. The bright flash lit up the sky, but nearly all of the energy was absorbed by the combination of Aura and Shielding. Ozzy bore the brunt of what was left, but Monstrosity negated some of that. He took the rest on himself rather than let it hit the other Captains or damage the ship.
Frack tried to fry the ship with lightning twice more before giving up. Each time, Ozzy absorbed the damage. The ship''s doctor stood behind him, casting spells that renewed his smoke and negated the damage done. The old healer was tiring but gamely kept healing him. Angered that it couldn''t hurt Dauntless with rain or energy, the Thunderhead gained altitude and dove down to shatter the ship''s shields with its tornado winds. Ozzy knew it was coming and knew he had to turn the ship. He did so without hesitation, and every sailor followed and cooperated, hearing the same soothing voice that he did. Dauntless turned hard to starboard, and somehow Splinter turned with her, staying under the shields and keeping the same distance from her larger sister.
Frack was off-center of Dauntless and lightly grazed the shields, still doing quite a bit of damage but far less than a direct hit. Ozzy took a hard blow but held on to the ship''s wheel, holding to a steady course. Cavendish and the other captains were hurt but still able to stand. All of them except Woodrat had grim looks on their faces. The ex-ship wright grinned and shook his fist at the Thunderhead as it bounced off the shields and hit the smoke next to the ship.
With a roar, Sharthezel surged upward from where she had hidden below Dauntless. Her little ones had done a splendid job of baiting her prey, and now it was low enough for her to pounce. She inhaled, drawing the living winds into herself. Her tentacles grasped the Thunderhead tightly, enveloping it entirely and not letting it dump its moisture in an attempt to escape. Frack struggled but couldn''t break her grip as her hundreds of tentacles fully enclosed him, ensuring she could consume all of him. She sank lower and lower, disappointing the smaller Kraken that had followed her when she allowed them no scraps. They swam after Dauntless in hopes another Thunderhead would be equally careless.
Every sailor on the ship stared in astonishment as the Kraken broke the surface and attacked the Thunderhead. It was over in seconds as the two creatures sank beneath the smoke, and the ships sailed onward. Thunderheads to either side moved further away or gained altitude. Only Frick stayed nearby. The smaller, faster Cyclone seemed undecided at first, moving back and forth. Pride fought with caution, and pride eventually won. It moved to attack Dauntless.
Frick had learned something from Frack''s failed attacks. Instead of coming down straight onto Dauntless, the more nimble Cyclone came in at a forty-five-degree angle, aiming for the main mast and sweeping across the ship. Turning the ship wasn''t going to throw it off course the way Frack had been duped and might do more harm than good. The Cyclone''s winds hit the shield, and it let loose with a small bolt of energy before sweeping back into the skies. Behind them, the line of Thunderheads moved on. Frick seemed determined to sink them and not worried about shirking its duties.
Four of the ballistae on Splinter opened fire the second time it made a pass at Dauntless. The javelins passed straight through the Thunderhead, but it swerved aside as if it had some worry about them. The blow to the shields was far less that the first. Ozzy noticed and yelled to Woodrat. "Can that thing be hurt? It jinked aside when Moriah shot at it!"
Woodrat was watching it and pointed. "Look there, where the winds swirl around its center. You can see a brighter spot? A little bit of light? That''s the thing''s core. It''s mostly wind and waves except for that core. Not a chance in hell of hitting it. It can move the bolts aside with its winds. But I don''t fault them for making a try. It got worried and dodged. But it will know now how to counter the weapons."
"Take the wheel, Woodrat! Go hard to port before it hits, and let it slide past us." Ozzy jumped to the deck and ran to the main mast as the Cyclone prepared for another pass.
Captain Woodrat grabbed the wheel of Dauntless and laughed loudly. He had no idea what Ozzy was about to do, but he wanted to watch. "Brace for Impact!" Behind him, one of the captains collapsed, unable to take the strain of holding the shields any longer. All of them were tiring. Cavendish watched as Captain Ozzy put his back to the main mast and ordered four sailors to secure him with chains around his waist. He was up to something and waiting for the Cyclone.
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Frick could tell the ship''s shields were weakening. This pass would break something, then dump enough moisture to extinguish the brightly burning sails forever. A flick of its winds would break the ship apart.
As the Cyclone came lower, Ozzy stared hard at its core, the Trammelian Chain lose on the deck while he swung the sharp meat hook on its end back and forth. The chain grew blacker and blacker as Ozzy poured smoke into it.
Frick came in hard and fast. Woodrat turned the big ship, the rudder biting hard, heat in the sails shifted to his commands, and the deck tilted slightly. The cyclone glanced across the shields with more damage done to the ship. Less than it could have been, but the blow still took off the top ten feet of the main mast. The Thunderhead''s course took it lower as it slid down the edge of the shields, bringing it closer to the Butcher.
As it started to move past, Ozzy threw his chain hard. The meat hook sped toward the Thunderhead''s core, trailing chain behind it. Where the spears from the ballistae were turned aside, the heavy magical chain, driven by his intent, cut through the winds and struck the Thunderhead''s core. The chain wrapped around the core with its other end securely around Ozzy''s arm. His other arm was wrapped around the main mast. Frick''s winds screamed in a high-pierced wail as it felt its core struck. The Thunderhead had immense power, but as Ozzy had hoped, little in the way of mass. This was how they could be trapped and consumed by the Kraken, their winds easily compressed and swallowed by the deep sea creatures.
Physics, 32 STR, and Push Onward did the rest. The Cyclone''s movement became a circle anchored by the chain to the main mast. Like a huge pendulm, it arced over Dauntless and barely missed Splinter before it hit the Smoke. Ozzy felt like his arm was going to be torn off. He had fed so much smoke into his chain that he felt dizzy. He held on tight to the main mast and heard a loud crack as something broke, and it leaned in his direction. He let go and drew the chain in, releasing the Thunderhead as several hungry Kraken greeted their meal. The ships had barely cleared the area before a loud explosion tore open the smoke, and the Thunderhead was torn asunder, releasing its rain.
Behind them, the ring of Cyclones moved onward. The smoke ahead of them was cool and smooth, waves subsiding, and the sea lost heat. Smoke and Steam made for low visibility as the ships moved onward, free of both eruption and vengeful Cyclones.
On the deck of the Dauntless, it took three of the hands and the doctor to get Ozzy''s dislocated shoulder back to where it should be. He leaned back against the main mast, exhausted as sailors added extra chain to move the damaged mast back into place. Captain Cavendish and Woodrat came down to the main deck to inspect it.
Cavendish laughed. "Woodrat said you were hard on ships. I can see that he didn''t exaggerate. Luckily, he also claims to be a better wood wright than any man on this ship. The crew are anxious to test him."
Captain Woodrat handed Ozzy a large tankard of rum. "And I''ll have help. My fine mate here wants to learn more about my first craft. Between the two of us we can move it back to standing straight and repair that crack."
Ozzy nodded. "I should learn to fix a ship as well as break one. Just give me a couple of hours until my arms stop burning.
A ripple ran through the ships. Wood creaked, and chains rattled. On both the hulls of Splinter and Dauntless, a strange symbol appeared, carved into the wood of the hull. Many curve lines radiated out from the center, making an image of a Kraken. Every man or woman on board either ship heard a benevolent voice.
"Sharthezel is pleased with her clever little helpers. She goes to sleep in the deeps now, well fed, but perhaps we will hunt again in another century or two? I will call for my little helpers or their progeny. Until then, my blessing will keep you safe."
| Sharthezel of the Deep Smoke has blessed the ships Dauntless and Splinter.
Kraken of all types will move aside when they pass and not threaten or hinder them. Other creatures will think twice about trying to harm a ship that has the favor of a Queen of the Deep.
Her clever little helpers are granted the following boons:
All Sailors gain 10 Enhancement Points and a shark tooth pendant to grant them quickness. (+1 to AGI)
All Mates gain 15 Enhancement Points and a tattoo of a Kraken to grant them strength. (+1 to STR)
All Captains gain 20 Enhancement Points and a ring bearing Sharthezel''s image, cast in bronze to give them power. (+1 Aura) |
Captain Cavendish looked over the rail to where Sharthezel''s mark was intricately carved into the hull. A similar mark was visible on Splinter. He smiled. At least he had a bit of proof to back up his wild tale when he made his report to the Queen. Around him, the sailors spoke excitedly about how they would use their points as they repaired the ship. After their escape, the ships had slowed after a few leagues of sailing to give Dauntless time for repairs and a rest for the recently recovered crew.
Behind them and over the horizon, a huge plume of steam rose as the Thunderheads closed on the volcano that rose from the smoke. Dust Devils and Firenados that had come with it retreated before the deluge killed them. Water poured down until the new land was cooled. The small island was only a mile across, and the volcano''s caldera was broken in one spot and flooded, creating a protected bay ringed by hills. The island of porous volcanic pumice floated in the smoke, wet and cool.
Evergreen descended from above, cloaked in a green dress of leaves. She thanked the hovering Thunderheads and released them from service. Small bits of salad appeared where she walked, breaking up the rock to make new earth. In a decade, it would be teaming with life, and men would have a new island to live on in half a century.
Chapter 247: Clear Sailing
Repairs to Dauntless were light, aside from the main mast. Chains were run, and pulley systems were put in place to move the mast back to its proper position. Ozzy and Butterbelly were needed for this, their large frames and high STR equaling dozens of normal sailors. Care had to be taken not to cause more damage. Captain Woodrat looked pointedly at Ozzy when he said this. Slowly and with care on Ozzy''s part, the mast was made straight again at its base. Woodrat and a team of three woodwrights took over from there. They examined the mast from top to bottom and planned a complete repair. Masts of this size were composites made from the wood of many trees. Once fused by a team of competent wood wrights, the mast would be far stronger than a similar one carved from one tree.
Ozzy was getting a workout. After the mast was made straight, Woodrat started teaching him the art of fusing or ''marrying'' two pieces of wood together properly. While Ozzy was fixing the hundred-foot-long crack he had put into the mast, Woodrat set to work creating oak bands to reinforce the mast. Some of the pieces they had salvaged from the sargasso were old wood, black with age, and hard enough that only Woodrat could work with them. He added piece after piece to the mast as he reworked them into rings to keep it from splitting again, and below decks, he doubled the number of braces holding it in place. Woodrat was proud of his work, and the last thing he wanted was something he made breaking again. Of course, there was every chance of that happening as long as Ozzy was around.
Throughout the day, the Butcher poured his smoke into the wood and welded the two sides of the crack back together. Woodrat made it look simple. For him, it was like both sides of the wood reached out and grasped the other side, erasing the fissure and making the wood stronger than it was. Ozzy could barely glue the two sides together, leaving a weak splot that could split again. Woodrat came behind him, working three times as fast. But that was what molding wood for decades did. He might be a captain now, but Woodrat would always have those skills.
A few hours after dark, they called it a day. Ozzy could keep working, but everyone else was exhausted. They would start back up in the morning. Cavendish, Shively, Woodrat, and Ozzy were all in Cavendish''s cabin, discussing the day''s adventure. Cavendish laughed as he contemplated his glass of rum. "It is times like this that teach a Captain wisdom. I''ve learned I need to stock a much more extensive wine selection and double up on foodstuffs for the crew. Our ''short voyage'' took an unexpected turn, and despite what the experts in the port have to say, we were poorly supplied."
Woodrat saw nothing wrong with having to drink rum but understood the gist of what Cavendish was saying. "Aye, plan for disaster and not be surprised as often. I''ve been craving sweets for a few months. Maybe I''ll stock up on molasses and nuts the next time we hit port. A pecan pie now and then sounds like a fine thing."
Wood was scarce in the smoke, and what little was grown on the islands was jealously hoarded. Any bit found floating was gathered up and re-used. Damaged ships might be broken down to make a better ship. Dauntless was composed of pieces of wood from a hundred older ships. Upon hearing of the adventures in the Sargasso, Captain Cavendish had even mentioned that the Queens might sponsor an expedition. It would take mages who dealt with growing plants to calm the murderous weed, but if the wood from dozens of ships could be salvaged, it would be worth it. Captain Woodrat could claim a sizable bounty for its discovery and for bringing the information to an officer of the Queen''s. Dauntless could benefit as well as the ship making the expedition. The two captains made tentative plans for the future.
Woodrat was thankful for filling Splinter''s small cargo area to the brim with wood and scavenged items. He''d known the value at the time, both to sell and repair his ship, but hadn''t expected to reap a bounty so soon. Dauntless took every timber and plank that Woodrat would sell them. He kept a few choice pieces for repairing Splinter, but the rest was moved to Dauntless, which was immediately used to repair the large ship. Captain Cavendish turned over a sizable chest of gold to Woodrat as partial payment and a signed contract that he could use to claim the rest. The Captain of the Dauntless wasn''t stingy when it came to his ship. The contract included payments for food and rum, as well as the assistance of Splinters'' crew in escaping the disaster.
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Cavendish knew he would be facing a board of inquiry when he returned. There would be questions about why he simply didn''t ''requisition'' what he needed from the smaller ship. Many captains used the Rules of Requisition to take what they wanted for their ships, leaving merchants to argue with the naval accountants for repayment. Such repayment was always less than the market rate of the goods. Cavendish wasn''t worried. Splinter''s crew and Captain had destroyed Conquest and ended Lord Peerson.
The Queens would know this already. What sane Captain would pick a fight with someone so monstrously strong that they could break your ship? He looked forward to his inquest. He had some grand stories to tell.
That night, as the Captains gathered for a meal and conversation, the talk turned to how best to spend the windfall of 20 Enhancement Points. Cavendish gave the younger captains his thoughts. "You have a rare opportunity. Few captains earn so much in times of peace. Even a major battle doesn''t guarantee such a reward; only if your side wins, your ship survives, and fate recognizes your contribution to the battle. So, it''s good to ponder how best to use those points."
"You are all in the third tier, and your options are three: Your furnace, your smoke, and your aura. Corruption and radiance will enhance many things and can raise your heat and smoke, so I include them in the first three choices. But remember, skills can also raise your stats, while only points and fate will give you a higher aura. Some captains would tell you to look to your foundation first and ensure that you have enough smoke and heat. This is sound advice for a junior captain who can rely upon a senior Captain. But the admiralty isn''t going to give even a small ship to a Captain with a meager aura."
My advice is this: Put it all into your aura. Shine like a beacon and take promotion to your own ship as fast as you can. As Captain Woodrat has shown us, even commanding a broken raft is a fine thing. That is my council, but each of you should make your own decision. That''s the essence of being a Captain." Around the table, the other men nodded and discussed their choices before heading to their hammocks or the main deck to stand watch.
Woodrat approached Ozzy. "Tell me your thoughts, man, from the conjunction."
Ozzy was mulling over his choices. He didn''t have access yet to normal rewards for Tier 3 yet. This made him doubt he''d be able to keep the Captain''s options when he returned to the conjunction. This was a good chance to pick up extra RAD and COR or take a chance on Aura being usable somehow in the other world. Jack had said that his active fire resistance had been close to shielding. Would it work the other way, and aura and shielding become a skill in the conjunction? He looked forward to getting home and finding out.
"Thinking about Cavendish''s advice. You?"
Woodrat smiled. "I want to shine! I bought all I could, adding seven points to my aura and a point of radiance. I have all the ship I''ll ever want and a fine crew, and now I''ll shine as brightly as Splinter does."
Ozzy winked at him. "Or use those silly cufflinks to go slumming in dockside taverns when you just want to sit with sailors and drink some bad beer."
Woodrat nodded. "That''s important too."
"I think I''ll follow you down that path, but with a point of corruption. I need to keep myself in balance so I can sit next to you at a seedy bar." Ozzy made his decision and spent the points. The two of them joined Captain Cavendish on the command deck. The three of them were taking the last watch of the day. A few crews of sailors were at work doing repairs, but for the most part, the ship was quiet, as if floating in the calm seas. Smoke and some remaining moisture had combined to make a thick fog that evening, a rare event in the smoke, and it made for an eerie scene as if the two ships floated side by side in a cloud.
Cavendish was finally relaxing after the horror of the past weeks. "Tomorrow, we set sail for the capital and main navy harbor. I expect that when word gets out, the two of you will have an audience with the Queens. Captain Woodrat will be officially invested as Baron of Cingo, and there will be many fine words. This would be a good time to request a favor from the crowns to aid Captain Ozzy in returning home. Evergreen has granted boons to the Queens before for lesser acts of bravery. With luck, you''ll be home in a couple of weeks."
Ozzy looked forward to that.
Chapter 248: Brace for Impact!
The lookout''s shout echoed down from the crow''s nest, fear in his voice. "Enemy ship off the port side, closing fast!" From out of the smog, a large galley with three tiers of oars was closing with them fast; their intent to ram was obvious. A steady beat of a drum and the voice of the coxwain could be heard as they closed the distance. A deep voice yelled, "Ramming Speed!". The Black Trireme was filled with charred sailors on its topdeck while the living toiled at the oars. The screams of the damned echoed over smoke to Dauntless.
Not waiting for orders, one sailor began ringing a large alarm bell, and two mates sprinted below decks to alert the crew.
Cavendishe''s voice rang out, amplified by his aura, reaching every corner of the ship. "Brace for Impact! Shields up!"
Woodrat and Ozzy moved to where Cavendish was at the wheel of his ship. Only the three captains on late watch were awake, Shively and the others getting what sleep they could before their next shift on deck. But they were the three with the strongest shields and auras. As the Black Ship sped toward Dauntless, they raised their defenses. Woodrat, Cavendish, and Ozzy merged their shields and layered their auras on top. Without the shields, the ram of the trireme would have staved in the hull of Dauntless, and only a miracle would have saved her from sinking. Even with the shields, a large amount of damage was done. Planks were cracked and broken, and seams were sprung. The great ram on the front of the galley was designed to shatter smaller ships and sink larger ones. It was rare for anything to survive a full-speed ram, and only the size of Dauntless and the strong shielding of her Captains saved her.
As the ships collided, a half-dozen men fell from the rigging and lay injured or dead on the deck. The large ship started to take on smoke in its lower compartments as the repair crews ran to set up pumps, and wood wrights strived to plug the leak. The ram had entered a full yard into its victim, holding her tight and not letting Dauntless get underway.
The trireme was pulled tight to Dauntless as dozens of hooked boarding chains were thrown at the ship, the hooks digging into the wood of the deck. Charred sailors grasped the chains and began to climb, screaming as they came and eyes blazing. Cavendish was shouting orders. "We have boarders! Cut the chains and send them back to hell!" The crew began to run to the rail, some armed with large axes designed to cut through the boarding chains. The second mate, a large and sturdy man with a STR of 15, brought his ax down hard on a chain, expecting it to snap. His blow bent the link but didn''t break it. The other sailors were having even more trouble. "Stout chains here, Captain! We aren''t stopping them before they get up!"
Ozzy and Woodrat ran to the rail. Woodrat brought his flaming sword down on a chain. The links shattered, and a scream went up from the trireme as the charred sailor holding it turned to ashes as well as the chain. Woodrat yelled at the stunned sailors. "Keep them from getting over the rail unless you want to share their fate!" His aura blazed brightly, and the men packed the rail, weapons ready, their fear momentarily replaced by determination. Woodrat continued removing the boarding chains, each stroke shattering a thick chain and each broken chain accompanied by a scream from below.
Ozzy had moved to the side of the battle and stepped over the rail, one hand holding tight and one foot on the edge of the deck. Some of the charred paused in their climb to look at him before continuing upward. The Butcher got as close as he could, leaning out from the rail, and breathed on them. A long column of fire erupted from his lungs, bathing the charred sailors. They were as tough as the chains they were climbing, taking far more heat to destroy than the charred on the Sargasso. Even so, the Butcher destroyed fifty charred as they climbed, sending their ashes tumbling down and clearing the chains. More of the endless horde started to climb, but the respite had given time for the defenders to form a tight wall of men.
Two chains wrapped around his legs as he tried to climb the rail. With his strength, he ignored them and dragged their owners with him as he returned to the other side. Grabbing both chains in his hands, he broke them easily, two more screams echoing up from the trireme. From the lower decks of the galley came more charred carrying a seemingly endless supply of dull, black boarding chains.
Captain Shively and the first mate joined the line, organizing the sailors and getting the best fighters to the front. Some brought long gaffs that reached down to push and stab at the climbers. Woodrat continued to cut the boarding chains but paused to catch his breath after destroying two dozen. As fast as he cut them, more were being thrown. Some were knocked aside before their hooks could bite into the wood. Others caught on the defenders, and two sailors were pulled to their doom in the mob below.
In the top gun deck, hatches were opened, and ballistae were pushed forward. Only a few guns fore and aft were deployed, the sailors fearful of the undead entering the ship through the ones in the middle. Ballistae bolts scythed into the mob, destroying a half dozen with every bolt. Ozzy heard sailors yelling commands as they prepared to bring more machines up to the main deck, but that was a slow process.
On the black ship, thousands of charred crowded on deck screaming and waiting their turn to fight or be destroyed. On the partial deck at the ship''s rear, a large man with burning hair watched the fight but gave no orders and took no part. Ozzy saw him, and it seemed as if their gazes met across the distance, and he suddenly felt smaller. Woodrat was standing beside him. "I believe I''ve heard a story of a ship like this and a renegade priest leading an army of the dead. Mind you, there could be more than one, but I think you''ve found your way home."
"Or a horrible death. That asshole scared the hell out of me, just with a glance."
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Woodrat nodded. "The same. I liked the plan of begging for a favor from the Queens better. Say the word, and we''ll sail away on the Splinter. Not very heroic, but maybe smarter if things go badly. Being one of the last people to get off of a sinking ship was horrible; all three times that it happened to me. We''ll fight as long as possible, but if I''m going down with a ship, it will be Splinter."
Ozzy looked at the thousands of undead, who hadn''t overwhelmed the Dauntless only because they were trying to climb aboard only in one part of the ship. If Blackgut, for that was who that must be, started giving orders, they were in bad trouble. "This battle looks to be a marathon and not a quick action. We can hold them off if they only attack along that limited front. But I think it will go badly, sooner or later."
Derek yelled at them from the crow''s nest of the Splinter. "Ware boarders on your starboard side. They''re swimming and climbing!"
"Ok, make that sooner."
Ozzy and Woodrat ran to the other side of the ship, where a line of sailors was forming at the rail. Charred were in the smoke below them, so thick that some were standing on the others and throwing boarding chains. Nearby, half a dozen were being repelled from Splinter. Mariah was at the helm, moving the ship. Woodrat yelled to her. "Keep them off you, but stay near if you can; we may need a ride soon." She flipped him a quick salute, and Splinter picked up speed, moving away from Dauntless to avoid the swimming charred.
There were far fewer charred here than on the port side. Ozzy and Woodrat cut the boarding chains to discourage boarders. Then Ozzy tied the Trammelian Chain to the rail and jumped halfway to the smoke, exhaling another gout of fire into the closely packed charred. These were lesser creatures than the ones leading the boarding party. They overheated and shattered into ashes, leaving this side clear. As he returned to the deck, he saw that Cavendish was organizing fighters at the ship''s bow while another group guarded the stern. Woodrat picked a likely sailor from the group around them. "You''re in charge here. Knock them off or yell for help." He and Ozzy ran to the port side and the main boarding action, leaving the stunned sailor to take the congratulations of his shipmates.
| Congratulations! Captain Woodrat thinks you''ll make a fine Mate. Welcome to Level 6, but you''ll be fighting to keep the promotion and your life! |
The newly promoted mate organized his crew into a solid line, and they guarded the port side against boarders.
Ozzy looked down on the Black Galley and its packed horde. Just one of those of Death Mist would make short work of them. Too bad he had none. Or was that a good thing? The chances of a globe breaking and destroying Splinter wasn''t something anyone had wanted to chance. Butterbelly was in the center of the line now. As Splinter had moved away from the fight, the firewalker had run across the waves, sinking slightly into the cooled smoke, but his internal fires kept him on the surface. A sailor at the bow had lowered a chain for him to climb aboard. Ozzy moved up next to him, the two commanding the center third of the battle where the fight was the thickest.
Butterbelly was swinging Goatbristle and Mjorlbotte the Overflowing. The huge pot crushed skulls, and the brush broke bones and knocked the undead from the chains. Sometimes the firewalker would set his brush aside and pour melted bear fat over dozens of charred who screamed and burned from the potency of the spices. Ozzy would breathe a small plume of fire and ignite the fat. The firewalker laughed. "I have such a bad thought, but what does Bear-Braised Overcooked Human taste like? I have cousins in Nifelheim who wouldn''t hesitate to make a meal of them, but I think I''d rather not find out. I might like the taste."
Ozzy''s flensing hatchets moved up and down in a never-ending pattern, killing and killing again. Most of the charred were lunging for him with claws and teeth, but some just bowed their heads in relief, accepting their final death. And still, they came. There seemed to be no end to them. The ballistae on the top deck and the gun deck fired continuously, killing hundreds of charred until the galley bristled like a porcupine. Twice more assaults came from the sea, tying up men and adding casualties. Dauntless had begun with a crew of hundreds, but each death brought them one step closing to losing the battle. Men were running low on heat and smoke, and the aura of the Captains was beginning to dim.
Ozzy kept fighting. He was losing heat slowly, but his furnace was so huge that it didn''t matter. Woodrat, however, was getting more worried. "This isn''t going to work. If that''s truly a ship of the dead, there could be a hundred thousand charred below decks. Blackgut is just sitting and watching, unworried. I think it''s time for a barrel of rum."
Butterbelly nodded. "Yes, I''m thirsty." Ozzy thought Woodrat meant something else. "Let''s make it two barrels. I dumped a scoop of heat berries into two barrels of the strongest rotgut, and marked it ''Medicine.''"
Woodrat ran to get two strong sailors to retrieve those barrels and bring them on deck. Butterbelly and Ozzy cleared the chains with burning bear grease, and Ozzy took a break from the front lines. Woodrat was trying to force heat into the barrels. Ozzy saw what he was doing. "Hold off, and save your heat. I can move it around easier and have an idea. He put a keg on his shoulder and moved until he was below the main sail. He reached up and pulled heat from it. It was slow at first. Sails were created to store heat, not release it, but slowly, the heat came faster and faster. Ozzy stopped when he had stolen ten thousand heat from the sail, and the keg was starting to glow and make popping noises.
"Bombs Away!" He threw the fifty-gallon barrel of heat-infused rum onto the center of the trireme and watched it explode, burning hundreds of charred in the explosion and setting more on fire. A minute later, as the flames died down, stamped out by the horde of undead coming from below, he threw the second barrel. Again it exploded, destroying countless charred. The boarding chains were clear with the stream of adversaries interrupted. Woodrat was laughing and crying. "I can''t believe we are throwing away good alcohol, but if we''re dead, we can''t drink it. Bring more rum!"
Chapter 249: Follow me to Hell
Twelve more times, Ozzy drained the sails of heat to turn barrels of rotten rum into make-shift bombs. Each time they cleared the top deck of the galley, destroying the tight-packed undead. The wood of the Black Ship was too old and hard to catch fire or char. The ship had been making the trip from the bottom of the smoke to collect the dead since humans had first come to the smoke. It was an artifact of another age. The charred were another matter and were destroyed by the released heat.
Black gut sat and watched as his crew of undead slowly overwhelmed the sailors of the Dauntless. As time passed, the sailors were more cautious and went about killing the undead and guarding the ship like professionals. The crew was also grinding experience at an accelerated pace. Ozzy noticed that some men were calling out their new levels and that several had reached level 5. He caught Woodrat''s attention and passed on his idea. Captain Woodrat had a short talk with Captain Cavendish, who listened to the unconventional plan and then laughed. "I approve. Desperate times outweigh following old rules. Tell the other captains to do the same!" If they lived, there would be a huge promotion party when they hit port.
As a sailor became eligible for promotion to Mate, one of the Captains would approve the choice and slap him on the back. They gained a dozen mates in the first hour of the ongoing attacks and three times that many in the second hour of fighting. More levels meant tougher fighters. Most chose either Boarding Actions or Gunner as their specialty. Lower-level sailors were carefully brought to the battle line and protected as they stabbed with long gaffs at the undead and accumulated experience. The spot between Ozzy and Butterbelly was especially good.
Ozzy hadn''t noticed because his level was too high for him to gain any points, but some of the charred were Named Bosses. They were slightly tougher than normal and gave some Enhancement Points to sailors in the first tier and half that to the Mates. Lookouts were posted to point them out and allow lower-level sailors to injure them before someone stronger killed them. The average level of the remaining crew slowly grew. Stats increased as they maxed out weapon skills. Lookouts and gunners were gaining perception. And each man was gaining Enhancement Points both for killing the Named Bosses and for attaining the rank of Mate. In a similar but slower process, the first and second mates achieved the rank of Captain. Cavendish hugged them and drank a mug of rum with each. Each chose the Follow me to Hell! Perk, and the fighting became easier, if no less exhausting.
The ship''s doctor had set up a triage center on the main deck and again used the hold as a makeshift hospital. He, too, had gained promotion to the third tier and ruefully wondered if he might reach the fourth tier before the voyage ended. He ordered barrels of food brought to the top deck, where the smoked meats and sausages were distributed to everyone to make sure they kept up their fuel.
Twice Splinter made runs at Blackgut. The ship appeared like a fiery ghost coming in fast and hard from the fog. All four ballistae targeted Blackgut at close range and let fly. The first flight of four spears was turned aside by strong winds that blew them to one side. The second attempt had Derrek at the wheel and Mariah as a gunner. Three spears were turned aside, but the winds didn''t affect the fourth. Captain Mariah put a bolt into Blackgut''s chest, pinning him to the ship. With a roar of anger that made even the undead pause, he ripped out the weapon and gestured toward Splinter. "Play games with me? With me! I''ll blow out your sails and skewer you to your own mast." He unleashed a whirlwind at the small ship as it sped away, but Mariah countered with her own, leaving Blackgut fuming and walking back and forth on his deck. He began to take more interest in the battle.
Woodrat noticed. "I think she got his attention. And more than that, she injured him." Ozzy had certainly seen that as well. "I wonder what else can hurt him? Kill him?" He called Captain Shively over and made plans to have all of the ballistae on the ship target Blackgut at once. The junior captain smiled and said, "Surely, we can do that. It''s worth a try."
Five minutes later, after a pause in firing, eighteen ballistae fired bolts at Blackgut. Each warmachine was crewed by a mate with the Gunner ability. As the bolts flew at him, Blackgut summoned a whirlwind around himself and blew each bolt off course. He laughed, amused when a barrel of flaming, heat-enhanced bear grease hit him dead center and exploded into a blazing fire. The charred nearby raced to him, trying to smother the blaze with their own bodies. Blackgut stepped out of the grease fire, chewing on a charred sailor''s arm. "My compliments to the chef, delicious." His delight was short-lived as a thirty-foot mast slammed into him hard, knocking him back into the fire.
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Butterbelly was thoughtful. "Caber Tossing, you call that? It does look like fun. That had to have hurt like hell."
Woodrat was scanning the decks of the Black Galley. "But did it hurt enough? The charred have paused and are milling about aimlessly."
Blackgut crawled from the flames, obviously injured badly. "Ah, curse me for playing with you." He tried to stand, but one leg didn''t work, and he had to order two charred sailors to hold him up. They started to carry him away.
With a nod at Ozzy, Woodrat threw a chain to the mast of the Black Galley and leaped from the railing. He swung across to the other ship and charged at Blackgut. Ozzy had seen what he was doing and jumped down to the galley''s deck, charging through the milling undead. Blackgut turned on unsteady legs and glared at them. Up close, they could see that the illusion of still being human had faded. A bare skull with wild, flaming hair and a full beard made of flames were all that was left of his face. "Taking advantage of my weakness to make a sneak attack? Bold of you, but it won''t carry the day." Undead surged at them, but they cut their way through a half dozen to attack Blackgut directly.
Ozzy brought his flaming hatchet down hard onto the bony neck. Woodrat stabbed into his guts with his enchanted sword. Neither blow penetrated Blackgut''s hull, and the blades rebounded as he laughed. The undead carrying him fell away, and he stepped forward and punched Ozzy hard in the gut, knocking the Butcher backward and to the deck.
| Blackgut has hit you for 1200 points of damage. Your hull negates 270 points. You have taken 930 points of damage. You are stunned. |
Before Woodrat could react, Blackgut grabbed his sword arm and slapped him twice with his open hand. "Is this what a Captain of the Seven amounts to now? I''m not even sure I should keep you. Should I toss you back into the smoke until you get bigger? He laughed as he threw Woodrat to the deck beside Ozzy.
"Your little act of bravery amuses me, but this ends now. I''ve taken your worth, and I think your sailors became stronger. I''m adding all of you to my crew." His aura washed out over them, and men dropped to their knees. Cavendish still stood, but with difficulty. He tried to speak but couldn''t form any words. The charred moved back into the holds, leaving the deck clear with only Blackgut standing. Ozzy and Woodrat couldn''t think and couldn''t stand. Blackgut''s aura was too high to resist.
"This is what happens now. You can join my crew as living men and join me in my adventures¡ªsome I''ll take, and some I won''t. Any I don''t take, I''ll burn. Anyone that looks at me funny, I''ll burn. You can''t defy me. You can''t win. My power is far beyond you and has no rivals." Winds blew hard, clearing the seas of mist and fog. The Splinter was revealed a hundred yards away, moving toward the Black Gally. "Ah, there you are." Blackgut snapped his fingers, and her sails were extinguished, as were the sails of Dauntless. "Playtime is over. But it was fun; I''ll give you that. After how easy the last six ships were to take, I''d almost given up hope of having any fun."
Blackgut quit talking and looked up.
In the sky, there came a roaring sound, and the winds around the three ships grew stronger. On the deck of the Black Galley, an old man appeared, wearing grey overalls and carrying a shovel. "I agree. Playtime is over. I came for my boy here, but I suspect I''ve got time to kick your ass."
Black Gut looked interested. "Oh? Do you really want to do this?
Old Joe nodded. "Why not? You think you''re strong? You''re too young to know what strong is. In my day, we wrestled across the planes, and only one thing in the smoke bested me in any fight."
Ozzy found his voice as Blackgut concentrated on Joe. "Joe! He bound the Old Smoke!" Blackgut smirked.
Joe''s eyes narrowed, and he cocked his head, looking hard at Blackgut. "Well, this should be interesting then. I''m sure Smokey still brags about how he beat my ass, but he probably left out the part where I won the match, best two out of three." Joe''s shovel whipped around and hit Blackgut in the face knocking him a mile across the smoke. What looked like an old man rose into the air, becoming a jet-black cyclone with burning eyes. "Be back when I can; Old Smoke was never an easy fight."
Chapter 250: "Not my fault"
Two cyclones fought high above in the Smoke near the border of Skye. Joe was rusty. He hadn''t had access to all of his power in centuries. The curse that allowed a greater Cyclone to be bound also separated them in two. The bulk of their power was contained in a wild Cyclone, bereft of most of its intelligence and will, easily controlled by the gods of the planes and kept under control. The rest, their soul and mind, was bound to an object or individual. Joe had chosen to become a ''smoke golem'' bound to one butcher after another serving their needs. Sometimes that meant killing the Butcher''s enemies and supporting armies. He liked the Masters that took smoke seriously and at least tried to learn its secrets. A few had even experimented with using smoke to create magical foods, but most didn''t have the patience. Eventually, they made a fatal error or got into a pissing match with some hero and lost. He''d be free for a bit to roam the conjunction until the powers that be noticed and forced him into bondage again.
He''d hated it, but he knew why it had happened. He and his brethren had been assholes and not cared at all about ''lesser beings''. When they were born, there were no little creatures running around. Cyclones and the other races of the second and third generations had been created to help with the work of forming the Conjunction and the surrounding elemental planes. With the world formed, the cyclones had nothing to do. They weren''t tools used for fine work. They had the strength to push things around and break things. The next stage in creation took more finesse.
With no winds to move and no mountains to push around, they had begun to quarrel and fight among themselves, playing silly games that undid other''s work. The angels divided and chose sides, starting a war (or maybe a game?) that continued to this day. The great beasts found themselves in a dispute with the dragons, and both sides suffered until an uneasy truce saw the beasts burrow deep and the dragons make a home in the great mountains. Things were a mess for quite some time until the higher powers stepped in to force order onto their rebellious children and helpers. The new gods of the planes dealt with the greatest cyclones by binding them and separating their power from their will. The curse affected all of their descendants as well. Djinn, elementals, and cyclones of all types were susceptible to magical bindings and clever words, both those who had caused trouble and those who came later.
Joe had served dozens of Butchers. Then had come the latest butcher. Instead of some demon on a path to becoming a dungeon monster, Joe was summoned by a low-level Butcher in a small town that barely had a name. And the new guy had no idea about binding, rules, or what a smoke golem was really for. He''d wanted to smoke meat and make barbeque and bacon. That had confused Joe for a long time; he kept looking for the trap. He was still a little cautious, but he''d never found the trap. He''d decided to settle down and enjoy himself. The Butcher was agreeable to his suggestions and caused enough trouble that Joe didn''t get bored. He even got stronger. Strong enough that Joe taught him about the Smoke. This ''Master'' was someone he wanted to keep alive for a long time; for that to happen, Joe needed him to be stronger.
The trouble had come fast and furious in the form of small wars, fallen angels, and a Tier 4 charnel pit with a strange personality. The pit was a problem. The damned thing would eat a Tier 2 Butcher alive and keep his smoking carcass as a trophy. He needed Ozzy to get to at least Tier 3 and with some mastery of Smoke so he could control the beast better. Things were going well until Ozzy lost his temper in some fight and went berzerk, burning himself up and floating off with a rogue wind. Joe had wanted him in the Smoke, but just for a quick trip and to learn a few spells from Old Smoke. As usual, Ozzy had complicated things somehow, and now Old Joe found himself fighting some crazed human who had bound Old Smoke and stolen his power. Joe did find that part funny, and he would never let Smokey forget about it. But he had to win this fight first. Luckily, the human was unused to this level of power. Joe just had to limber up and get back to fighting form before the new guy learned to use his power.
The power of their blows sent concussions through the planes and stirred up winds in the Smoke, the Skye, and beyond. Wild cyclones came to watch, and some picked fights with each other. All hell was going to break loose soon, and Joe knew he had to end this fast before the damned gods noticed! Still, it sure felt good to cut loose for a change and remind everyone who the real monsters of the Smoke were...
"Damn it, Jack! What the hell did you do!" Evergreen was angry, and Jack had managed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was always calm and tired after exerting herself greatly. She should have been mostly asleep after the lengthy negotiations with the other planes to solve the eruption problem. Earth had been obstinate with their ''Volcanoes Happen'' logic. Fire was annoyed but also having fun seeing Smoke and Skye scrambling to deal with the heat. Sea and their allies were trying to gain the most they could from Evergreen''s need for Thunderheads. Tired from dealing with the effects of the incursion from earth and fire, exhausted from politics, she had then had to expend much power to bind and control the willful Cyclones needed to convey moisture to the Smoke.
She should have been tired and in need of a shoulder to lean on. Instead, she held Jack by the throat as his feet dangled above the ground. "Not my fault! I don''t even know what happened!" The green-skinned goddess of life and rebirth stared at him for a long minute and then released him. Before Jack could flee, he was bound in the tree''s roots that made up her throne.
"What you did, is meddled. You marked two humans, and they''ve been causing mischief and making things happen." Her remarks made Jack happy. That was exactly what he''d hoped for. Both of the mortals in question showed strong potential. And humans were always causing things to happen. It was why they needed more gods looking out for them than any other race. Eventually, if they did enough, they''d run into Blackgut, and maybe his big problem would be solved.
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He tried to look innocent as he said. "All good, I should hope? All I did was rescue two ship-wrecked sailors and help them deal with the heat from that horrible eruption. Really, anything they did is that volcano''s fault."
Evergreen began to list off events. "They found one of the Seven Swords and have tangled the lines of fate."
Jack smiled. "Not my fault. The little Captain had it on him when we first met. It was one of the things that drew my notice and convinced me to save him. Just helping a poor sailor as our brother Palaimon always asks us to do."
Evergreen continued as if Jack hadn''t spoken. "They completed Shipwrecker''s quest after making contact with one of the great whales. I find it too much of a coincidence. The whales had almost forgotten about him. Now they sing the old songs and talk about sending their young out on quests to destroy human ships!"
Jack was a little surprised by that one. How did a human kill that many ships? But not his problem. "Well, I think I can prove my innocence again. They had taken up whale riding before I ever met them."
The goddess glared at him and held up a third finger."They aided the Kraken, acting as bait, and helped kill five Thunderheads!" The goddess was furious now. "Do you know the cost I''ll have to pay for their deaths?" The roots began to tighten, and small fingers of wood encircled Jack''s neck.
Familiar laughter filled the room as Aeto''le appeared, emerging from a pool of smoke. The goddess of predators strolled into the room as if she owned it and leaned on her harpoon. "It was grand! I watched all of it. The Kraken had set a trap for your Dunderheads, and the Cyclones jumped at the chance to pursue a small human ship. When the first ambush happened, it was so fast that the death scream froze the other nearby cyclones, and two more died! It serves them right for being clumsy hunters. You must be more careful when sending those idiots near the Smoke. We breed predators here, both large and small."
Jack was curious. "That''s only three. What else happened?"
Aeto''le speared a ripe fruit from a dish and ate it off her harpoon. "Then it gets interesting. Did you know that you trapped ships inside your ring of raining death, cousin? Did you forget what steam does to creatures on the surface and even beneath?"
Evergreen closed her eyes. "I heard the prayers. Over and over, but what was I to do? I had to save hundreds of thousands that would have died on the islands."
"I heard their prayers too." Palaimon appeared from a shadow, his starved and ill-kept appearance looking better than the last time Jack had seen him. "It''s always about the islands with their teeming populations. But they depend on the seas. And the men that ride the seas take great risks. You left a Great Ship there. A Great Ship! Eight-hundred souls all needing rescue. Some of them live only because one of mine found them and made me proud by rescuing them!"
Jack nodded and tried to look proud and fatherly. "Exactly why I helped rescue little Woodrat. I know you loved him. I couldn''t leave him to roast in that awful heat, not when a good and faithful first mate could save his Captain with just a little guidance."
Palaimon inclined his head. "And I thank you for that, Jack, it was well done, and Woodrat and his Mate have now rescued hundreds more from shipwreck, or worse."
"At the cost of two more dead Thunderheads." Evergreen leaned her head back and closed her eyes."
Jack appealed to Aeto''le. "Story, please? How did they do it."
The huntress sat down in front of him and stared at him with her dead, black eyes. "It was wonderful. The humans sent a message to the Kraken, wishing for an alliance. My many-armed children took them into their shoal and used them as bait. The humans taunted and played with the twisters until they were tricked into the sea, and the Kraken could feast on their winds."
Aeto''le grew excited, jumping up and acting out the scene, snaring a potting plant on the ceiling and using a chain to slam it to the floor next to Jack. "Oh, you should have seen it! The big one chained a cyclone and threw it into the sea! I see why my cousin likes him. I already visited her to tell the stories of his great hunts."
Jack looked over at Evergreen. She was finally calming down and about to sleep, despite the damage done by Aeto''le. "So I''m innocent. It was the desperation of trapped sailors and the cunning plans of hungry Kraken."
Evergreen looked at his pleading face. Despite the trouble he caused, she was always drawn to him. She represented life and order. Jack was chaos and shepherding the dead back to life. It would always be a complicated relationship. "Very well, Jack, I release you, but if the ones you marked cause me problems again, you will pay the bill, not me."
Jack stood up and bowed. "Understood. I''ll find them and talk to the lads. Maybe help the Butcher find his way home. He saved a Great Ship, after all."
Before Jack could get out of the room, thunder rolled across the sky again and again. The border between Skye and Smoke began dissolving as the storm mixed the planes together. Lightning bolts and gouts of fire shot across the sky. In the distance, two gigantic black Cyclones made war on each other, shaking all of the Smoke.
All eyes turned to Jack.
The god in question wasn''t quite sure what he had done and was going over all the moves he had made. None involved Old Joe at the height of his strength, dueling with someone who had stolen Old Smoke''s power.
Evergreen wasn''t sleepy anymore, and Jack wondered how he''d talk his way out of this one. He didn''t even try and raced away, looking for Woodrat and Ozzy. Aeto''le grabbed Palaimon by the arm and dove into the smoke. Evergreen drew strength from the islands to rejuvenate herself and followed behind Palaimon. Aeto''le would be hunting Jack if only to laugh at what trouble he got into.
Chapter 251: Old Smoke
As Joe pursued Blackgut into the sky, a glass jar with a chain attached fell next to the Butcher, breaking. The smoke inside the jar flowed into his mouth as he struggled to catch his breath from the blow Blackgut had dealt him. Images poured into his mind made of the thoughts and dreams mixed with his breath: Joe and Jenny searching for him, a maze of chains and smoke that needed a firm hand, and the gaze of an insane visitor from somewhere else. Worst of all were Suzette''s nightmares. Mixed with her fears that he was never coming back were old dreams of pounding on the glass of a pod and no one coming to release her and nightmares where she couldn''t remember her name, only the name people called her in a game. He experienced a dozen of the worst nightmares that Granny Gorpunkle had taken from her. He needed to go home!
The Butcher stood up and glared at the creatures around him. The undead fell back, avoiding him. Woodrat was yelling at him and pushing him toward the stairs leading down. "Damn it! Snap out of it! We need to go down! He''ll be somewhere below us!"
The roaring in his ears stilled, but Ozzy was still angry. "Who?" Woodrat rolled his eyes. "Old Smoke. The first Cyclone. I swear you never pay attention to the important stuff! He has to have Old Smoke bound somewhere below. He''d never leave him chained up somewhere outside of his control. We need to find him and break the binding on him."
Ozzy looked up where the two Cyclones were trading blows. "You don''t think Joe can take him?"
"I don''t want to find out!! And if those two fight for too long, they''ll break things. Like ships and islands. I''m quite happy having an actual ship under me for a change."
Ozzy remembered a hazy conversation when he''d been near death from too much heat. "The bilge. He''s in the bilge." The Butcher headed down the stairs; charred sailors moved out of his way. Flickers of flame surrounded him. The charred saw him as someone else. They got out of that person''s way. Woodrat stayed close behind the Butcher. Down, and further down they went, past thousands of undead on each level, all wanting to be reborn in the bottom of the Smoke and be allowed to return to the living. Finally, they came to the last level. Charred bodies were stacked here like wood, unmoving except for their eyes. Ozzy inhaled, and Woodrat instinctively brought up his shield and aura. Ozzy exhaled; fire raced through the bottom of the ship, bodies turning to dust, and the spirits of the dead poured into him.
Woodrat looked at the old wood of the ship and put his hands on it. Planks shifted and rippled as the deck above the bilge pulled back and revealed the body of Old Smoke. Ozzy had thought he''d be bigger. He looked a lot like Joe with the same wrinkled, bald head and black skin. But Old Smoke was thin and worn. His time bound to the Black Galley hadn''t been kind to him. He was bound to the ship with four chains attached to bolts driven into the hull. An iron gag kept him from speaking.
Woodrat produced a lockpick from somewhere and had the gag off instantly. Old Smoke responded by spitting to the side and cursing. He looked at them through eyes delirious with pain. "Here to gloat again? Come closer, and I''ll tear your throat out!"
Ozzy took hold of one of the chains and tested it. His hands burned from the heat inside of them. The smoke of the chains was layered and twisted with fiery runes sandwiched between the layers. He could feel the smoke and heat drained from the chained Cyclone''s feeble form. "How about you lay still, old timer, and I break you out of these chains?"
Old Smoke quit ranting. "Who the hell are you? Not Blackgut?" Woodrat produced a bottle of alcohol. "Rum? I imagine you''re thirsty."
The Cyclone nodded and opened his mouth wide. Woodrat poured half the bottle down his throat. Old Smoke relaxed some. "Oh, that was sweet. It''s been ages. Nice flavor to that stuff. It''s good to have some fire in my belly, even if it means he''ll steal that too." Ozzy noticed it was a bottle the doctor had been using that had the word ''medicine'' scrawled across the label. Old Smoke looked to where Ozzy was examining his chains. "You won''t break those. I tried early on when I still had some power left."
Ozzy wasn''t a wizard. He had no training in magic. But he had gained a huge amount of experience from Heat the Sails and pushed his Aspect of Heat up to its new maximum of rank 15 as he pulled the heat from hundreds of sailors and released it again. His INT of 18 worked with the aspect to give him insight into how the runes were mixed with the smoke. Tight Chains helped him understand how they were made, and his natural cunning gave him ideas of how to un-make them. If the runes and layering gave the chains their strength, changing or destroying that magical coding would weaken them. Instead of trying to break the chain with just his muscles, he used Steal Smoke to remove the top layers from a link.
There was a lot of smoke in a very small spot! It came grudgingly at first, then poured into him. It refilled his smoke and then started spilling out of him. It poured into Old Smoke, who smiled at first, feeling a small amount of strength returning to him, and then grimaced as the chains stole it back. Ozzy could see the cycle but noticed it wasn''t instantaneous. He pulled harder and kept pulling. The layer of smoke thinned, and then a gap appeared. He pulled the heat from the rune he could feel under the smoke. It burst with a shower of sparks, and the link weakened. When he pulled at the smoke, it didn''t refill as fast. He worked his way down through a dozen layers, removing smoke and heat. The layers went on and on, but he had cracked the link. "You might want to step back, Woodrat. If this breaks, it will do more than a spark."
Woodrat shook his head. "I''m fine right here. I''ve got a powerful aura to ward off some fire, and I need to be here at the end of this."
The Butcher grabbed the chain in both hands and twisted the weakened link. His muscles stood out as he brought all of his strength to bear on one piece of hardened smoke. It was a considerable amount of strength. He had been at thirty-two when he ascended to Captain. A day of using Hack Undead to kill thousands of charred had raised his STR by four points to thirty-six. Push Onward brought that to forty-one!
And the chains and Old Smoke were part of the Black Galley. Whatever damage he could do was magnified by four times over by Shipbreaker. Ozzy strained with muscles and will, bending the link while stealing its smoke and further disrupting its runes. Smoke poured back into the link from the rest of the chain. Whoever had forged these hadn''t believed in ''weakest links''; to break one link, he had to work against the whole chain! The link bent, and a small crack appeared. Ozzy''s shoulders and muscles began to ache.
Captain Woodrat swung Blackfyre down doublehanded, the edge hitting the small crack in the chain. The sword flashed as it cut into the runes below, shattering more layers. The sword moaned as it drank in an endless supply of smoke. Both Ozzy and Woodrat were thrown back against the galley''s hull as the link shattered and exploded.
High in the Skye, Blackgut felt something, and it distracted him. Joe took advantage of the distraction to hit him several times in a row, driving him over the horizon and terrifying the island inhabitants they passed over. "Not so tough now, are you? I still have a few good punches left in me, and they''re all yours!"
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Ozzy stood and helped Woodrat to his feet. He stretched, feeling coming back into his arms, and he picked up the second chain. "Are you up for another three of these, Captain Woodrat, sir?"
"Oh, indeed, I think I am, Captain Ozzy. Thanks for asking."
Old Smoke looked from one captain, then the other. "Of course, it would be a couple of crazed Captains that came to rescue me; who else would try?
Woodrat grinned. "Oh, we were crazy long ago when we were just a poor lost sailor and a Butcher adrift on the smoke. I do think we''ve gotten worse, though."
Old Smoke looked interested. "A Butcher? That explains a bit. You bound my brother and had him bring you here? I guess that''s where you got the power to break that chain." He didn''t look happy.
Ozzy was examining the next chain and didn''t notice the distaste on Old Smoke''s face. "Nope. Didn''t bind him. I don''t know how to bind anyone, and I don''t want to learn."
Woodrat saw the surprise on Old Smoke''s face. "You didn''t bind him? Oh hell! No wonder that fight is still going on! They''ll break a lot more than each other. Get these chains off of me!"
Ozzy was already pulling smoke from the second chain. He''d learned from last time. He was forcing his smoke into each end of the chain and pulling from the center. The rest of the chain couldn''t heal the weak link as fast. Blackfyre was fully charged and eager for more. As soon as Woodrat saw a small crack, he brought the sword down, shearing through the link. This time, Ozzy shielded as well, and they were stunned for a moment but not knocked down. The Butcher grabbed the third chain.
Far away, over an unnamed island, the two Cyclones fought. The pirates who made this small bit of land their base didn''t have time to flee in their ramshackle ship before the forces unleashed in the battle shattered both the ship and the island. Blackgut screamed and knew Old Smoke was breaking free. He attacked Joe in a fury, spending his strength and power to overwhelm the older Cyclone before he turned and fled, racing back to the Black Galley.
"You''d best hurry; he knows what you''re doing. Joe was always a little stronger than me, but I was always the fastest flyer. If he heads this way, Joe won''t be able to catch him before he kills you and rebinds me to this damned ship." Old Smoke was looking better now. He was breathing in the smoke and heat released from the chains and wasn''t losing as much to the drain of the remaining ones. Ozzy picked up the third chain. His arms and back ached. He had to be careful not to pull muscles or dislocate a shoulder or elbow. Normally, that couldn''t happen, but when Shipbreaker was in play, his enhanced strength and damage overwhelmed his other perks.
Woodrat looked at his sword. It was more powerful now. It had never been fully sated before. The additional smoke was letting it grow beyond what it was. "But he''ll be weaker. We can take him if we can break even one more chain."
Old Smoke shook his head. "You think so? That damage you did before was because he let it happen. Just play-acting. Do you think I''d ever create something that could hurt me? I''m not an idiot!"
Woodrat cocked his head. "So how come we''ve found you sucking up the smoke in the bilge of his ship, and he''s flying around like a Cyclone?"
Old Smoke coughed. "He tricked me. I only gave him a little bit of my power, and he used that to forge these chains and steal the rest!"
Woodrat rolled his eyes. Old Smoke sighed. "Yes, so maybe I am an idiot. But that doesn''t change a thing. Even with a fraction of my power, there isn''t a thing in the smoke that can really hurt him. He has the Mark of the Burning Man and my power to protect him."
Ozzy was done destroying runes and was straining his muscles against the third chain. Through gritting teeth, he said: "Then let''s hurry and get these last two done, and then beat the crap out of him."
Blackgut felt the third chain break. He was running from the fight, which galled him to no end. He''d been winning! He could have had the power of both Old Cyclones and challenged the gods themselves. And he still had a chance. The last chain would be the hardest to break. He flew through the Skye until the Black Galley was below him. He dropped directly to the ship, smashing through the decks until he was just above the bilge. The last chain was still intact.
Old Smoke stood with the last chain firmly around his ankle. One of the seven Captains had his back to the wall, sword out, but lying on the deck. His hands were flat against the hull, and he was scared. Blackgut started to laugh, and then the ship''s wood grew around him, the strong black timbers wrapping him up and holding him tight. Woodrat''s eyes glowed. He''d spent over a century becoming the best wood wright any ship had ever had. And today, he was proving it. His aura flared, pushing back Blackgut''s aura, and his trap held the renegade priest tight, if only for a moment.
A moment was all the Butcher needed. He had a chain wrapped around his fist like a set of brass knuckles. A chain made of metal alien to both the Conjunction and the Smoke. His enemy was caught by surprise and restrained. At level 12, One Fist of Iron did 120 points of damage plus an additional 205 for his huge STR of 41. Strike Undead added another 150 points of damage. Slaughter doubled his damage and gave a higher chance of a critical hit. Surprise helped as well. As Blackgut came into the bilge, Ozzy hit him as hard as he could in the head, snapping back his head and doing 1820 points of damage. Blackgut had no defense at all against the alien metal. Strange concepts and words that should never be spoken filled his mind, and he screamed.
Ozzy raced to the fourth chain and began again to break through the layers of runes. Woodrat amused himself by stabbing Blackgut through each eye as he lay stunned. He didn''t know if it would damage him, but it surely couldn''t hurt. He heard the chain crack and turned to Ozzy. Blackfyre came down hard on the cracked metal, stealing its smoke and cutting through more runes. Blackgut started to stand, but before he could, the link broke, and the last chain binding Old Smoke to him was gone.
The grinning Cyclone walked to Blackgut, smoke and fire pouring from his ex-captor and back into him. Blackgut ceased to exist, crumbling to dust. Old Smoke shouted, and his winds carried him aloft to the deck.
Joe was waiting there for him. "Are you done killing him yet? If not, I need to punch him in the head some more."
Old Smoke laughed. "He''s dead, and his soul will never be allowed to reform, not in a thousand years. A good thing for your old bones, he was kicking the wind out of you. You''re lucky these two lads freed me."
Joe saw Ozzy and Woodrat emerge from the lower decks. "You''re lucky I sent you my Butcher."
Ozzy looked at the two ancient creatures thinking they wouldn''t look out of place playing checkers at a general store. "If it''s alright with the two of you, this Butcher wants to go home."
Old Smoke nodded. "Least I can do. Let''s get the hell out of here before the damnable gods show up."
Chapter 252: Red Banner
The sun peeked over the horizon, spreading its light over a world that wanted another half-hour sleep. Or so Captain Bernice always assumed, based on how her troops moaned each day. The Red Banner Mercenary Company was warm and toasty in their bedrolls, clustered in squads around the ashes of their campfires. The night guards were up, of course. They had been on duty since midnight and were eager to turn over their watch to the next four men and get food from the cook.
By tradition and the Captain''s orders, no one ate until the night watch ate. The cook ensured each man got his share of thick porridge made from nuts, good grain, and a small chunk of bacon. In the case of the night watch, the cook was generous with his portions. Bacon was the one thing that brought the men out of their beds every morning, and the last watch became more popular when they started getting a double share. The company paymaster complained about the cost of the meat, but even knowing the high cost that the butcher''s guild of Wolfsburg charged, it was worth it. The +1 to STR and +10 Health it provided were a bonus, as far as she was concerned. The main benefit was less time getting everyone moving. A decent breakfast brought the men out of beds. The menu varied but always included bacon and good, strong coffee.
They''d be fed and on the road, an hour after sun up, with much of that time spent caring for the horses. The armor and weapons of the Red Banner might be showing wear and tear after many repairs, but they always paid attention to their mounts. They always bought the best, and the horses got more care than the soldiers. Only fair since they did most of the work. All the men and women wore heavy leather armor with small plates and strips of metal to reinforce critical areas covered in a layer of oiled cloth. This type of armor was called brigandine because of its preference for brigands, highwaymen, and the better class of bandits. It wasn''t as heavy or noisy as metal and didn''t reflect sunlight.
Bernice''s mercenary squads preferred it as well. The Red Banner wasn''t hired to do guard duty. They lived in the field on their horses and made up for their lack of polish and manners with a good reputation for getting the job done, even when the job meant getting their hands dirty. They had yet to be given the particulars of the next job, but it was sure to be dirty, and the pay would be bad. You couldn''t expect anything less from Baron Pinchpenny. But sometimes jobs were scarce, and horses and men had to eat.
The company moved out over what the map generously called an Imperial Road. Baron Pinchpenney was responsible for fifty miles of road south of Northguard and all of the road north to Rowan Keep. Obviously, he hadn''t been bothering for at least a decade, if not more. The low walls on either side of the road were crumbling, and much of the stone had been used to fix sinkholes. (Or stolen by farmers building snug houses.) Grass and weeds, even small bushes, grew between the stones. Another ten years and the road would be impassable. She wondered what the man was thinking. Did he not want merchants and travelers to his small city?
Twice they passed ruined villages within a mile of the road. A quick ride to them showed they were recently abandoned with little left behind. There were fields and small wood lots, and the wells were in good shape. So why were they abandoned? Most houses had burned roofs, but the barns and mills were untouched. Even more curious, many fields were tilled and planted for the next harvest.
The third village was new and prosperous by the look of the large fields. The fences were in good repair and made of recently cut wood. Peasants were hard at work plowing and planting. "Time to water the horses again. First squad on me; the rest of you keep moving."
The village looked more like a military encampment than a peasant village. There were no individual plots of land. Instead, everyone lived in long narrow buildings that resembled hastily built barracks. Behind each was a row of outhouses. A large well with a windmill was pumping water into what must be a bathhouse. There were no chicken coops, gardens of vegetables, or herbs. Also missing were merchants, guilds, and all the other things that made up a village. Peasants in burlap work clothes were doing their chores very efficiently, and no one stopped to talk to them until they got to the town center. There was curiosity, but the peasants kept their eyes downcast.
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It took Bernice a moment to focus on what bothered her about the peasants. Then her eyes narrowed. There were no children, and the people doing heavy labor were equally split between men and women. Strong men and women. She saw one burly farm girl walk by with three of the large, hundred-pound sacks of groats on her shoulder, easily packing the load.
There was a small crowd of people in the center of the village. There, at a large wooden table, two men were handing out work assignments and arguing with some of the peasants.
One of them noticed the mounted squad of mercenaries and walked over to them, a smile on his face that had too many teeth. He was dressed far better than his peasants but poorer than a local lord. Perhaps some foreman? "Greetings, and what brings you here to our fine village? I''m Reggie Halderman, local regional manager for Alchemarx. What can I do for you?" He smiled like any of the toadies at the King''s Court.
"Greetings. Just scouting the area. The Red Banner Company is taking some coin from your local lord to keep bandits under control. We thought we''d learn the area as we traveled North." The story was half true, they were heading to negotiate with PinchPenny, but an agreement still needed to be signed. She wanted to see the color of his money first before committing to a term of service.
Reggie smiled again, showing some interest. "Good. Good. We''ve been asking the Baron to help whittle down the bandit problem. They keep stealing food out of the fields, which cuts into profits."
"Food? Usually, bandits prefer hard coin. Are they well-armed at all? Any merchant caravans attacked?" Bandits stealing food was normal. But harvesting it from fields was not. Fresh produce was heavy to pack. Grain would need a mill to process it. Bandits were more likely to steal cattle, horses, and pigs. Or attack the village to take a wagon of grain or flour.
Reggie shrugged. "I''m a manager. What do I know about bandits? Other than wanting them gone, I don''t care. But don''t worry, with the armor and weapons you guys are packing; it will be easy. The best they have is a few pitchforks and hunting bows."
"Good to know. We fight when we have to, but I prefer my fights one-sided and easy."
Reggie grinned, a real smile this time. "A woman of wisdom. I like my fights like that too."
Bernice pointed back towards the abandoned villages. "Not that I care for details, but I notice empty and burned villages back a few miles. Your bandits didn''t happen to come from there, did they? Just wondering if we should watch them and see if they return. Rogue peasants don''t tend to travel far. They''ll come back and set up a camp to raid the roads if those buildings aren''t destroyed."
"That''s exactly what they have been doing! We stamp them out, and they set up elsewhere. You''d think they would get the hint to move on. But I can see us doing business together. I need a fast-moving group that can solve my bandit problem. Take my card. When you''re done telling PinchPenny to stuff his stingy offer up his ass, come see me. Alchemarx needs to hire some mercenaries. You can make some good coin working for me. My corporation is the future of this area, and you can get in on the ground floor."
"But to answer your question, yes, a lot of the bandits came out of these little villages scattered all over. Horrible way to farm. Lots of small fields and no organization. We''ll bring in four times as much food using our methods. But first, the Baron had to clear the local peasants off his lands. He hired some idiots, but they did a half-assed job. Burned a few huts, chased them into the woods, and now they''ve turned bandit and are stealing food. Not that most of them weren''t bandits already."
She took the card and placed it in her pouch. "I''ll be back. I have to hear at least what offer the miser Baron makes, but I have expenses, and it sounds like you have gold to spend." As the company of mercenaries rode off, Reggie returned to his talk of planning an expansion of the existing fields. "Who had the idea of growing hay and alfalfa for horses? I know I yelled at someone about that stupid idea. I''ve changed my mind. Great idea. You''re in charge. That group has a lot of ponies to feed. Get things planted today and get those cantrips going so we can harvest in a couple of weeks. I can pay half their wages in food and fodder to keep costs down."
Chapter 253: You cant get there from here.
Sonya Thornfist, battle-druid of the Emerald Reavers guild, looked around the table, judging whether her peers had a consensus. "I seek your opinions as council members of our guild on our next course of action."
No one was paying attention, and Sonya vowed never again to hold a ''working lunch'' at the local tavern. Most of them were here for a free lunch at guild expense. Four people were still looking at the all-you-can-eat menu and figuring out which of the four items to order. Today''s menu items were amazingly like yesterday''s:
Anything goes in the Pot Soup: Anything goes in the pot, along with leftovers, a few soup bones, and we boil it until it''s all dissolved. A local favorite!
Bread and Beer: A complete meal in 6 courses. You tell us how to divide it up!
Stewed Beast with taters: We take something tasty that used to move around, add ''taters and a lot of salt and spice. Eat your Meat!
Wish Sandwich: Just like your mama served you! Bread, Cheese, and you wish you had a slice of meat!
Dirk and Brad were discussing the local beer; Sally was hitting on the barbarian in the corner, who was more interested in his sandwich than in whatever sordid thing Sally was trying to whisper in his ear.
"Don''t you people care about what dungeons we should raid and train for?"
Dirk went to get another round of beer, and Brad, aka Sturmhand Ironbreaker, looked around the table and then winked at Sonya. "You haven''t figured out yet that we just wanted to spend the guild''s gold on food and beer?" As she started to stutter in anger, he held up a hand. "It''s all good, Sonya. The guys aren''t worried about where we raid. They trust you. You like to run around to gather information and rumors, so they made you the guild leader. Pick the toughest dungeon, set the time, and we''ll move to that city and raid until we conquer it and everyone gets the loot they want."
"But what about today?
Dirk returned, handed her a stein of beer, and somehow produced a cheese platter and put it between them. "Today, you should eat, drink, and spend the guilds gold. Tonight you can research the forums and find us a spot to start grinding with openings for dungeons. Then tell us where to go. Trust me; it''s easier to send an email to get everyone''s attention than to yell at them in the game. Tell us when to meet at a teleporter or stage line, and we''ll show up."
Disappointed but able to read the room, Sonya enjoyed the afternoon and then got to work. The next day the entire guild received her message telling them to show up at the teleporter next to the mage guild, ready to head to a dungeon after a short walk. All 27 members showed up. The guild would pay their teleport fees if they went today, but after that, they were on their own. Fees were usually pretty steep, and no one liked wasting their own gold when they could ride free.
The Travel Mage running the teleporter bowed to them and smiled. "Greetings, travelers. How can this humble servant assist you in your travels? I''m afraid that our teleporter here in Glousterberg is quite small. I can send you on your way in groups of ten, one group every ten minutes. We need the time for other cities to generously send us the mana. I am travel-mage Lars Frostfollower, at your service." The mage bowed low and sent a message to assemble the apprentices. The less mana he had to buy elsewhere, the better.
Sonya bowed and smiled at him. "Thank you, sir. We are headed to the city of Gadobhra. From what I was told, the nearest teleporter is in Rowan Keep." The mage''s smile slipped for just a second. "I believe you are correct, my dear. Let me go and check on the coordinates. We don''t want to make a mistake and send you to the Ruined Isles or someplace else horrid."
Dirk and Stan were both curious and started asking questions. "Where are we headed to? What''s there?"
Sonya showed them her notes. "There were some posts about this place that I had saved from a couple of months ago. It got a lot of talk initially, but I can''t find most of the old posts; it''s like they all got deleted. But the ones I saved mentioned there were several dungeons in the area. They range from Tier 1 up to at least Tier 4 or higher. Back when I read about it, we weren''t ready for more than the beginner dungeon, and we didn''t have the money to teleport there. We can go there now and work our way through them all. The only other place I found that didn''t have a long wait for a dungeon was in Sternhollow. It''s two days by stage from here. The dungeon isn''t popular because it''s filled with acidic slimes. You must do a bunch of small quests for the forest folk first. It was gathering roots, killing muskrats, and learning to make birch beer. Then they give you access to an old sage that will teach the Lesser Acid Resistance skill. Without it, the slime dungeon is horribly dangerous, and you lose a lot of gear."
"Yeah, skip that shit." Dirk was tired of quests and killing trash mobs. "What''s in the other place? What can we kill?"
Sonya looked at her notes. "A bunch of stuff, I think Ratkin, lesser undead, mutant animals, giant hogs, ghouls, and daemons. Oh, and they also brew beer in the little village and have a kobold grillmaster serving some good food and a sausage-maker."
"Nice work. Sounds like our kind of place." The guild crowded around the teleporter. Dungeons, beer, and food had their attention.
The travel mage came back with a sad expression on his face. "I''m terribly sorry, but your location seems to have problems. It''s not recommended for travelers, and the local Legion outpost is dealing with an outbreak of wyverns, bandits, and refugee farmers."
The players talked things over. Sonya approached the mage. "We''ll still go. With that much going on, it''s sure to be fun." She handed over a bag of gold. "I have our fee, 135 gold for 27 human-sized travelers, plus the 20% fee for teleporting from a small town and the 10% tax for teleporting to a Legion outpost. One hundred and seventy-nine gold plus a small tip." The tip was in silver and copper. The guild had barely had enough for the teleport fees, even after Sonya sold off some of the gems they were saving.
The mage looked disappointed for some reason. "I commend you on your mathematical and research skills, young lady. You should look into taking courses at one of the Arcane Universities. A sharp mind is wasted elsewhere. But, I must sadly inform you that teleporting to such a far-off and dangerous location has additional costs. It''s all beyond me; something to do with the cost of mana in that primitive area? But I will need an additional 100 gold per person to cover expenses, according to the senior mage I just talked to about the situation." He bowed twice, trying to look apologetic.
"2700 more gold?"
The mage bowed again. "Yes, plus the 20% and 10% taxes. 3,564 gold plus a standard tip."
Two days later, Sonya and her guild arrived by stage in Sternhollow and split up to begin gathering roots and killing muskrats.
The Red Banner didn''t stop at Northguard but continued past. None of the mercenaries minded. They had heard the beer was bad and overpriced. The castle looked like a dump, and the Legionnaires on duty wore stained and patched uniforms. They continued onward but halted five miles past the small city. The road was considerably worse. Paving stones were mostly missing, and large sinkholes were common. Bernice started to ride next to the road but stopped the company. "There are stones in the tall grass; get off and lead your horses. They can use a rest.
The stones were from the road. Someone or something had scattered them around the landscape. After walking for a quarter mile, they moved further from the road and mounted up before traveling further. After two more miles, they came upon a road crew. The road north looked significantly better than the part they had just followed. She took out a spyglass and observed the people working on the road. After observing them for a few minutes, she told the company to halt and take lunch. She carefully rode the mile to where the work was going on, taking two guards.
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The foreman came to greet her. Besides him, there were four large men with picks and shovels and a mage who seemed completely out of place.
Captain Bernice called out to them. "Greetings; I see you''re all hard at work. Our company just came from up from the south. We''re doing some work for the Baron and the Alchemarx people."
The foreman relaxed and motioned to his people to get back to work. "Glad to have you around. We''ve had trouble with some of the farmers giving us hassles. They don''t like the repairs we do on the road, but I''m sure you know how that is. Think you can make sure the area is clear of them?"
Bernice observed the men breaking apart the road and scattering the stones. It was what she had watched from a distance and now confirmed up close. The mage stirred himself to conjure Acid Rain and move the cloud back and forth. The acid would increase the size of the potholes where it pooled in low spots. "Glad to. Part of our job, after all. But remember, call them bandits. Sounds better. We''ll do a full sweep around the area to ensure you don''t have any trouble. I''ll let you return to work and tell the boss you were working hard on the job."
The foreman nodded and shook her hand. "Appreciate it."
Riding back to her company, she was thoughtful. "I think we''ll keep moving north. There are places I need to see for myself. We''ll do a full sweep of the area, make camp for the night, and head out to Rowan tomorrow morning.
Cleavus Vodspaller had avoided stopping in Northguard. The last time he''d traveled this road, he had entered the city to take a room for the night. He''d also been charged a tax on his goods when entering and leaving. The inn had been cold, the food greasy, and the less said about the beer, the better. Today he kept the mules going on past and only stopped to talk to the two Legion soldiers on duty where the road turned off to the Legion Outpost. He shook hands, handing each a silver piece. "How''s the road north? Any monster problems?"
The two guards looked around, and one spoke quietly. "Nothing to worry about as far as monsters or beasts; things have been pretty calm lately. You''ll have some bandit trouble. There are lots of starving farmers, but I must warn you that the road is bad. You can''t get there from here if you''re going to Rowan Keep. Best to turn around."
Cleavus laughed. "Not to worry, no bandit wants to steal snails. They are too heavy to pack around, and they don''t have the refined tastes to enjoy them. I''ll take my chances."
The guard stepped closer. "Trust me. You don''t want to. The road gets bad, and you''ll have to go cross country. Plus, the two bridges are gone. Swept away in the bad reign we''ve had lately."
Cleavus hadn''t heard of any weather like that. Summer had been dry, and so had the fall. Then he noticed the emphasis on one word. "Ah, a Bad Reign, you say?"
The guard nodded. "A very BAD Reign. Bad enough that merchants that have tried the roads go missing. My wife is bog raised, and we enjoy a well-roasted snail every Saint Thilbert''s day. We''ve enjoyed them every year and always bought them from your uncle. It would be a shame to have your family lose a whole wagon. If you know what I mean."
Cleavus smiled. "I do indeed. Guess I''ll turn back then. But St. Thilbert''s day is in a couple of months. How about I gift you and your lovely wife a half-dozen of my uncle''s best crawlers? It would lighten my load some. I may take some roads less traveled going home."
The guard tipped his helmet. "Glad to, Merchant Vodspaller." Cleavus got into the back of his wagon, selected a fine assortment of his goods, and put them into a box for the helpful guard to take home. The guard was also helpful enough to draw a map on the wagon''s floorboards that detailed some side roads and two fords that his lightened wagon could use. By evening, he had turned back and began circling wide around Northguard. It would cost him two days of travel time, but that was much better than not arriving at all.
Nightfall came, and he made a small camp with a low fire and cooked his dinner. He had a small greenbloat roasting on a stick over the fire, and a bottle of small ale that he''d just opened, when he heard noises from the brush.
"Fishies!"
"SHhhhhhhh!"
"Fishies?"
A man stepped into view thirty feet from the fire; his hands held out with no weapons. "Hi! Mind if we come over to share the fire? My pet smelled that lovely dinner you are cooking. I''d gladly pay you for them if you have another snail or two." He was dressed as a ranger, with a bow on his back and a falcon on his shoulder. At his feet was a young wyvern that was eying the snail cooking on the fire. Cleavus wasn''t sure about them, but anyone who liked roast snails was ok in his book.
"Sure, come on in. How many and how would you like them cooked?"
"Fishie!"
The man paused and looked at his animals. "How about two cooked and two raw? I''m starving. My name is Falconer. Would you be Merchant Vodspaller''s nephew? I''ve heard him mention his family when he''s at the tavern in Sedgewick." He offered money to Cleavus. More money than Cleavus would have expected. This man knew the value of a good snail.
Cleavus gave Falconer the cooked snail and put two more on the fire after tossing a plump crawler to each animal. "Yep, one and the same. I''m traveling north to Sedgewick. Or I was; I hear the bridges are out."
Falconer bit into the hot snail, obviously enjoying it. "Wow, these are so good when cooked. I eat the hot ones at the tavern, but next time I''m going to get Suzie to roast them up in the kitchen."
"But yeah, the bridges are gone. A work crew tore them down and claimed they would rebuild them, but they aren''t working on them. The local baron is a butterfly-stealing jerk and doesn''t like Baron Billy. Doesn''t like farmers, either. He turned many of them out of his villages and rented them to a corporation. I''m helping some of the folks get to Sedgewick. I can show you the back roads if you want to ride with us. Maybe we could let a few of the small kids ride in your wagon?"
That seemed like a good deal to Cleavus. "Well, I suppose so. Where are the farmers we''re meeting?" Falconer smiled and whistled. From out of the darkness came four weary adults and ten children, some quite small. "Have to be careful. PennyPincher has some mercs out hunting farmers, and they set a trap once. I had to check you out, even though I was pretty sure who you were. We''ll bed down here for the night, and if you don''t mind putting another dozen snails on the fire, I''ll be glad to pay for those too."
Cleavus got to work serving up roasted snails and pulled his bedroll out of the wagon and some old horse blankets he used to pack the snails tight in their boxes. It wasn''t much, but the farmer families were exhausted and had little on them. The next day, they loaded the smaller children in the wagon, with their mothers seated up front. Cleavus guided the horses by walking beside them. Falconer and his animals were all over, ensuring they weren''t surprised by the Barons roaming mercenaries. By mid-day, they were joined by two dozen more people and surprisingly, an imperial courier who reported to Falconer. "The paths north are all clear. We can make camp in the late afternoon across the second river in that big clearing. There are a couple of tents and a barrel of dried groats. Then head back to the road, and wagons will be waiting to take you into Rowan."
Falconer nodded. "I''ll get them to the road, and then we''ll scout on our way back. I saw a big group of mercenaries we may have to deal with to get the next group out."
Chapter 254: Hungry in Hungrytown
Ghastful predators stalked the night in Hungrytown.
Gravestones overturned as the restless dead emerged, heeding the call of more powerful monsters to come forth. Ghouls emerged from their crypts, no longer content to chew on old bones. Tonight was special. A creature of hunger and death had emerged from where it had been chained below the ground. Atop one of the larger tombs, a Dreadwulf had appeared. Its howls summoned the lesser creatures and infected them with its hunger, for such creatures were forever hungry.
Formed from the body and cursed soul of a werewolf that had starved to death, the creatures were mostly unheard of in the rest of the world but more common in Gadobhra. Legend said that Mama Laveau hated the were creatures with a cold passion after they took one of her family from her. When she caught them, they were entombed alive, and the door was sealed with silver etched runes. Dozens of the abominations were rumored to be buried in the graveyards around Hungrytown, and tonight one of them was loose.
A shiver went down Diego''s spine. The old Inquisitor had seen many horrors in his time, but as the monster stood on its misshapen legs and howled at the sky, something deep inside of him was begging him to run and hide. Luckily, he wasn''t alone in the old graveyard. During the hours of daylight, the local defenders had organized. Signs and portents had warned them of the emergence of a greater spirit that would gather an army to attack their small village. They had called on the Baron for aid, and William responded enthusiastically. Baron William of Gadobhra nursed a deeply held grudge against the undead of Hungrytown. It was whispered that one had challenged him for his city, and William had vowed to eradicate the nightwalkers forever.
Diego was thankful for the thick shadows that hid the small group of defenders. Added to the darkness of the night and the ever-present fog of Hungrytown, the spell was highly effective at hiding their large group of living creatures. That a barmaid had cast the magical protection had surprised him. He had to remind himself that the girl was also the village mayor and an adventurer. He''d asked questions a few times about her odd assortment of magic but never gotten much of an answer except for a shy smile and a shrug. Benjamin had been a better source of information, as usual. The sharp-eyed courier had helped the old Inquisitor answer many questions he had about the town. The story of how a circle of white witches had come together to fight a menace from beyond the stars had been enthralling. He mentioned it in his reports while not mentioning specific names. Too many of his peers would focus on ''witch'' and forget about their color.
Ben had pointed out several of them, and Diego saw the pattern. A milkmaid who followed in the footsteps of a local saint. An elderly woman who baked cookies for the children to make sure they had good dreams, and a village mayor who learned what magics she could find in order to protect her town. Good women, all of them, carrying on with their mundane lives and coming together in times of trouble. Such as tonight.
The winds were also cooperating, carrying the stench of the undead their way but carrying their scents away from the monsters. One of the town''s defenders worked in the tannery and had learned to cast an air aspected spell that would carry the foul smell of the tannery away from the town. It worked equally well here. He would include the use of this spell in his next report. Every legion outpost had a tanner, but few had an Air Mage.
The night before the full moon, they had seen a gathering of undead in Hungrytown. Baron William had led a small raid to keep the ghouls in check and trim their number. When the largest of them died, the creature laughed and claimed a greater evil would destroy them the next night. The quest immediately followed.
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A Doom Foretold!
The undead that crawl from the crypts of Hungrytown are gathering in secret, awaiting the first night of the full moon. Spirits whisper that a foul beast will slip its chains and lead them as they lay siege to the village of Sedgewick for three nights. Bar the windows and lock your doors! A call goes out for Heroes to defend the Village from the evil that marches from Gadobhra.
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Baron William had immediately made plans to deal with the undead while they were in his city. He had put out a quest calling for adventurers, but only a few had responded. The Thunderpunks were already preparing for a raid into the Lair of the Under-rodent that had been in the works for a month. A few local adventurers had shown up and clustered in two groups of half a dozen players on either flank. They were a nervous and excited bunch, with levels between five and eight. The Baron assigned them as flanking forces, knowing he would get little in the way of cooperation from them.
The Baron and Baroness had rallied the forces of Sedgewick. Diego looked around him, where stone masons, loggers, and bakers were waiting to ambush the undead. Curiously, all of them were carrying large cleavers. He knew many of them had little in the way of weapons training. Ben had told him of the Baron''s plan to appease one of the dungeons by sending in meat for the local monsters to feast on. The courier packed a cleaver on his belt and was often in the city''s stockyards all night long to keep the dungeon under control. Obviously, many of the local villagers had helped with the chore and gained skill in wielding the traditional tool of a butcher. A cleaver was a poor weapon compared to a sword, but better than nothing.
As the sun set, more help arrived. Two princes of the Ironwoods came from the forests, wearing hard armor made from the bark of those trees. They carried axes and cleavers, prepared to aid their allies from the village. With them came a trio of long-eared adventurers, two unicorns, and three dryads. A contingent from the First Strike! Guild arrived from Rowan Keep, the Baron having paid their teleport fees. They joined a group of carpenters setting up war machines near the ACME building.
The Baron had gathered what help he could. Diego hoped it would be enough. He had sent word to Rowan keep but heard nothing back. A worrying sign. There were arguments for and against helping the Baron of Gadobhra with anything at all. Politics wormed its way into both the Inquisition and the Legion, and Diego hated it. Retirement was sounding better and better. If they let him retire.
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The Baron gathered some defenders around him, and Diego listened in, staying next to the Courier.
"As far as I can tell, this operation is good to go. We hit them hard, knock the stuffing out of them, and then mop up what''s left. And when it all goes to hell, kill anything you can. Ignore any lone monsters running for the front gate. The college faculty has prepared a surprise for them in exchange for getting to keep one for experiments." He turned to his Courier. "When I give the word, Ben, you have ten seconds until your spell needs to land. Timing is everything. Which is why I told the adventuring groups that they don''t get any rewards if they charge early."
All of the information was familiar; they had gone over it before. Everyone nodded and waited for the Baron''s signal. When it came, Ben started moving forward. Diego watched as Benjamin stood up and cast his first spell, bringing down a torrent of Phoenix Fire from the sky, hitting the Dreadwulf, and splashing onto the assembled undead. Howls of hunger turned to cries of pain as the radiance-tinged fire burned and couldn''t be put out. The Courier''s spells had become more and more powerful since the day Diego had taught him how to heal, and he had been blessed by no less than the Maid of Orleans. Diego would always be proud of his part in that battle, and it was delightful to watch his one-time student unleash a blast of holy fire onto the undead horde and then run for safety as only a Courier could.
Within a second of the spell hitting the undead, four barrels of catapult-launched flaming death hit the crypt the Dreadwulf was standing on. The Inquisitor wondered about their accuracy. The Baron would admit to him later that he had picked that crypt as a prime target and had his catapults calibrated to hitting it as a target. Piles of fresh bones had been piled around and on the crypt to encourage the undead to gather there. The barrels broke, spilling the sticky substance within that splashed the monsters, adding another source of the fire. Lower-level ghouls, ghasts, and zombies would be dead before they could attack, and the stronger undead would be weakened.
Ben took a step back, staggering. He''d used over half of his huge mana pool to cast that spell. A risk he would not have taken if it had been only the two of them in the graveyard. He recovered quickly and sprinted for safety as a howling horde of fire-maddened ghouls chased him, and a fanged beast leaped from the top of the crypt. The Dreadwulf was burning still, losing part of its flesh and fur, but far from dead. It had decided to start its rampage with the infuriating white-clad human that had hurt it.
Ben made it to the front line of the defenders and kept moving. From behind tombs and gravestones where they had hidden in the gloom and the fog, more fighters emerged, led by the Baron and Baroness. Both were clad in gleaming plate mail over chain hauberks. The work had been done in Sedgewick by his armor smiths. Diego had examined the armor while it was being made. It wasn''t as fancy as what any other noble would go to battle in. It was practical armor for a warrior that expected to get hit. Baron William preferred protection over looks. But it was well made of Dark Steel and cured Sedge Hide.
The Dreadwulf outpaced the other undead, running on all fours to the center of the army. The Baron took a step several steps forward. "Come get me, Fido. Time to teach an old dog some new tricks." Whether the lupine monster understood or not, he recognized a challenger. He howled and raced at the Baron. William stood firm and braced his shield. Not one step back! The Dreadwulf charged and was stopped by the Baron, who blocked his slavering jaws with his shield. From an elevated position behind the line of defenders came the ''crack'' of high-tension cables being released and the groan of metal and steel. Four oversized ballistae that would someday sit on the ramparts of Rowan Keep took aim and fired missiles at the Dreadwulf. One was off target and continued onward to plow through half a dozen ghouls. The second, the Dreadwulf swatted aside with contemptuous ease before screaming as the silver-tipped head of the spear tore off three of its claws. The last two struck the monster in the chest area, shattering ribs and tearing through undead sinews.
The creature screamed, and then the scream turned into a dreadful howl. Diego felt himself freeze up, paralyzed for a few seconds by the howl. The effect on the assembled players was worse. They stopped moving, unable to move anything but their eyes as the ghouls raced at them. The Baron and Baroness seemed only partially affected. This was their seat of power, and all other powers in Gadobhra had less or no effect upon them. The werewolf picked up the Baron, and its jaws bit down on his midsection. The Baron screamed. The Dreadwulf also screamed. Jorges had put layered silver between the layers of dark steel as he forged the armored plates. The Dreadwulf''s teeth chipped and broke as it poisoned itself. The Baron found himself thrown away like a bad piece of meat.
None of the contract workers were affected by the howl. The same mental nudging that made it easy for them to work a 12-hour day also protected them from fear and terror. It wasn''t total, and the newer workers found themselves edging away from the battle, but the workers in the second tier just smiled and charged. The Dreadwulf was attacked by a dozen cleaver-armed workers using Hack Undead to start cutting it quickly down to size. And as it went to strike back, a gleaming arrow of light struck it in the face, blinding it. As the junior butchers hacked away at the Dreadwulf, Suzette put several Solar Arrow spells into its eyes, blinding it for the duration of the fight.
Not to be outdone, the Baroness summoned a glowing two-handed sword that gleamed red in the moonlight and dripped blood. As the Dreadwulf stumbled back under the assault, she raced forward, leaped onto the shoulders of one of the workers, and slashed the Dreadwulf in the neck, taking its last bit of health and severing its head. She kicked out at the headless monster and rode the body down to the ground. Turning, she posed with her sword in one hand and the Dreadwulf''s body under her foot. Then she turned and pointed at the charging undead. "To me, my butchers! Let''s finish this." The Baroness and her workers charged the ghoul horde, joined by the players on either flank. The killing would go on for an hour until the last ghoul was hacked and destroyed.
Ben cast a healing spell on Billy, stopping the flow of blood and resetting his ribs. "Careful, you took a nasty hit." Billy lit a cigar. "Worth it. I made sure I had one of the players take a screenshot of me stopping the wolf thing. Layla upstaged me with her kill-stealing and posing at the end, but I''m getting both pictures framed for my office and sending copies to Vern."
Chapter 255: Horse Trading
"I am very sorry, my new friends, but I can''t take less than 50 gold each for these fine horses. I am taking them to the monthly market in Hurlsford, where I can surely receive a fair price of over 75 gold each. Look at those legs! They go all the way to the ground with a lovely white stocking around each one. You don''t find elven-bred quarter horses this side of the mountains! It was a stroke of luck that I was in a position to aid Lady Glitterluck and be rewarded with them. It pains me to think about letting them go, but I am a horse trader, not a horse-keeper." Gili Moonface shook his head sadly, obviously wanting to make a deal but unwilling to budge on the price further.
"Look, mate, I understand you need to make a profit but are you considering the state of the roads? A horse might break a leg or pull a muscle or something, and then you''re out all your profit. Hurlsford is still a good two days ride, and slower if you walk these horses over a bad road. And bandits! Think of the bandits! You could lose everything, including those fine horses. Things are getting rougher down that way. We''ve got a total of 187 gold on us. You saw us empty our pockets. We''re only paying this much because we''re desperate. We need to get to Thunderhead in the next two days to accomplish the next part of our quest."
Gili, the horse trader, looked again at the four foot-sore mercenaries. The one talking, Thorton Warborn, was a strapping young man in mismatched armor. A strange group accompanied him. A priestess of the hearth goddess, Hestia, a tall barbarian dressed all in black with far too many knives, and a dwarf with a twitchy eye that was holding his hammer tightly in his hands. It occurred to Gili that taking their offer wasn''t a bad idea. "Tell you what? How about I accept your offer, and each of you gives me some small trinkets to even things up? A knife, a blessing from Hestia, some iron rations? I can''t take less than 50 each, but I can overvalue your trade-ins. It''s part of my religion. I can''t short-change myself, or I lose Ekwensu''s blessing."
"One of my knives? Never."
The dwarf tossed over some iron rations and glared at the barbarian. "Damn you, Silentpanther, hand over a knife. You have 38 of the things, and you never throw more than seven in any fight. I''m nearly out of whiskey, and the shakes are getting bad."
The barbarian sneered. "I told you not to take alcoholic as a trait, Derek. Sure, you got two Toughness points from it and can drink all night long, but you''re useless without a bottle. That''s half the reason we''re almost broke."
The dwarf stamped his foot and glared. "My name is Beerbandit, Tommy, and either hand over a knife, or I''ll kick your ass as soon as we get to Hurlsford and get out of these pods."
Aubrey quickly blessed Gili and handed over her share of the money. "Come, friends. Let''s make haste to close the deal and ride to the town. As a cleric, I feel we must respect this man''s religion. He is obviously working with us the best that he can. I''ll buy Silent another knife as soon as we get some treasure exploring the Lost Mine of Olaf Goateater, and we can do the next part of our quest."
The others glared at the barbarian until he handed over a knife. Thorton took a half-used jar of boot grease and added it to the pile. Gili put his hands over the money and objects. "May Ekwensu bless this transaction and give you all luck upon the road." He quickly gathered the money, stowed the items in a bag on his mule, and mounted up. "It was nice meeting you all. I''m going to be on my way. If I''m lucky, I''ll be able to make it to the inn at Breed''s River Crossing by tonight. I''ll spend a few days there since I don''t have to risk bandits going to Hurlsford. Look me up if you head back that way. There''s a local seamstress that I may spend some time with, but after that, perhaps our roads come together. We can eat dinner together, my treat." He waved again and rode off.
Thorton helped the dwarf mount his horse, and the four took off down the road. It was a little uncomfortable with just hackamores and blankets, but they would make much better time even going slowly. Ten miles up the road, they crested a hill and saw a carriage sitting in the middle of the road with several people standing around. It was a half-mile away, but Thorton had a good, gnomish-made spyglass on him just for such occasions. "Doesn''t look like an ambush. I see an older man in Noble''s clothing, four guards, and a woman in a red dress. It looks like they have a camp there."
Aubrey smiled. "Travelers in distress. I bet it''s the start of another quest or maybe even part of the one we are doing now. Let''s go talk to them."
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Beerbandit kicked his horse and nearly fell off. "And maybe they have a spare bottle to share with a thirsty traveler."
Near the small camp, one of Lord Bellshire''s guards noticed the party coming their way. He approached the Lord carefully. His Lordship was in a foul mood after the theft of their horses. One of the grooms they had recently hired had absconded with them during the night. Both guards on duty had been found deeply asleep and drunk, with whiskey on their breath. The two hungover guards and the remaining groom had been sent trudging back to town to buy more horses. "M''lord, you have good eyes and a keen appreciation of horses. What do you think of the mounts this party is riding?"
Bellshire snorted but then grew amused. "Thank you for asking, Milford. They look amazingly like the team of horses that were stolen last night. Four matching steeds with chestnut coats and white socks. I''d say the odds of there being two sets on this road were poor¡ªbrass balls on those people to try and ride our own horses right past us. Let''s reward their little charade with one of our own. Stay friendly until you can grab the reins or knock them off the mounts."
As the adventuring party approached, they were greeted by the noble. "Welcome, travelers. We were sitting down to a roast chicken for lunch and a bottle of wine. Care to join us."
Far up the road and nowhere near the Inn at Breed''s River, McTeeth turned off the road to take a small path through the forest. This should put him near Sedgewick if he took it north. Better to spend a few more hours on the road than to deal with upset players. Lord Bellshire had a bad reputation when it came to dealing with thieves. That was one of the reasons he hadn''t been able to resist hiring on as a groom and relieving them of their fine team of horses. He really had given those adventurers a good deal. He had planned to sell that team in Hurlsford for over 300 gold. But there was nothing Ekwensu liked better than a transaction like that. The favor of a god of luck was better than gold any day.
The trip had been profitable in many ways. He had news for the Baron and had set up contacts in three towns to gather information for him. Every town had people looking to make a few coins; you just knew where to look. And he had made a tidy sum for himself along the way. Money that he didn''t have to split with anyone. He didn''t even have to pay the little thieves'' guilds he had found in Hurlsford, Shropshire, and Thunderhead. At level 13, he was a higher-level thief than anyone in those guilds. It was frustrating that there wasn''t a good guild nearby. He''d heard that the mayor could pay for upgrades for the town, but that was tricky. He and Suzette weren''t on the best terms, and she was a little sensitive about thieves. His next trip would take him down to Northguard. He''d heard it was a hellhole of a town, which gave him hope of finding a guild where he could get some unique skills that weren''t in the main thieves'' guild in the capital.
He and his mule got to Sedgewick a day and a night later. He stabled the mule, put his gold in the bank, and headed for a meeting with the Baron. He was tired after two days without sleep and wanted a bath. He hurried across the courtyard with the creepy statue, heading for the ACME building. A slight noise alerted him to a giant hand trying to grab him, and he ducked aside. Unfortunately, his dodge had been anticipated, and he was grabbed by the statue''s other hand.
"My, my. What have we here? It looks like the little thief who was supposed to be working on my castle. Those traps won''t test themselves, you know. Your replacements aren''t half as crafty as you."
Mcteeth cursed himself for his carelessness. "Yep, and I was heading over that way. Got to get to work on those traps."
"You lie. I smell the sour smell of travel and mule upon you. You snuck off for a vacation and are now back to talk to my Baron. If I throw you hard enough, can I hit the door to the castle? It''s worth a try."
"NO! I''m working for your Baron. Secret mission stuff. I''ve been spying on the other towns, their rulers, and the other corporations. He really needs me for this."
"Surely he has a group of spies and can spare you? Think of the traps? They need calibrating."
"Sorry, I''ll try to get back to them as soon as I hire some more guys, train them, and set up an information network. I''m sure you understand."
The statue looked at him with beady eyes. "Oh, you have no idea how much I understand." It opened its mouth, and Mcteeth screamed as it tossed him down its throat.
Chapter 256: Dead Mans Hand
Mcteeth screamed as he fell into the Demonic Statue''s belly and screamed again as he realized he was falling much further beneath the city. His screams alerted two ghouls that were looking for scraps nearby. They''d been trapped in this small part of the underground and looking for food for over a hundred years, but they were certain that they would find something to eat if they checked each nook and cranny of this small cave once again. It was an understatement to say they were overjoyed when a sack of meat fell into a pile of rotted wood. Mcteeth gained a few seconds as they fought over who got to eat his liver. That was enough time to draw his weapons and toss a coin over his shoulder. He hated paying for luck, which is why his patron spirit delighted in taking it. He''d have had to pay more if he wasn''t about to engage in violence, something Ekwensu also delighted in.
He threw one dagger into the smaller of the two ghouls, hoping to slow it down with a leg wound, and circled to put it between him and the larger. As it stumbled toward him, he slashed at its instep. The crippled creature collapsed, and the other took advantage of the opportunity to fall on it and take a bite. As the two ghouls fought, Mcteeth circled quickly, stabbing again and again, trying to keep the fight even so the two undead wore each other down. Once both had stopped moving, he leaned back against the wall. There was a click, and he fell through the secret door and tumbled further into the bowels of the city. This time he ended up rolling from another secret door into a large room, and nothing was trying to eat him. Yet. A dozen skeletons were on the floor, and five sat around a large table. Overhead a chandelier cast an eerie light on the scene, its candles burning with a reddish glow.
The room was large and resembled a tavern. A bar at one end was covered with dirty mugs and wine glasses, bottles of dubious spirits arranged on the shelf behind them, their handwritten labels faded with the years. There had been more tables at one time. Shattered furniture littered the room and more than one skeleton held a chair leg in its claws. Many had rusty daggers in their backs. Some had several. Mcteeth noted that most of the daggers would have been critical hits that severed a spine. A stage was across from the bar, the remains of red velvet drapes piled around the remains of a harpsichord and harp that would never play again. Doorways led to other rooms, sagging on hinges or laying broken on the floor.
The five dead gentlemen around the table had been there for a long, long time. The finery they had worn was rotted and torn, and their bodies were reduced to dry, brittle bones. Scraps of leathery flesh sagged on the bones, ready to fall off. Each had a shot glass in their left hand and a bottle on the table next to them. A pile of money and objects was piled in the center of the table. Hundreds of gold, silver, copper, and other strange coins. Two rusty daggers, one glowing rusty dagger. Three green gems. The deed to a small keep in Estallia. And on top of it all, an ornate ring made of tarnished silver.
Mcteeth moved slowly around the room, touching nothing and careful not to touch the bodies lest they animate. He would be terribly surprised if they didn''t. This was Gadobhra, after all. Even after all these years, he could smell the poison in the bottles: Nightshade, Hemlock, Snakeroot oil, Castor Bean extract, and Phytolaccaceae Belladonna. The last was a nasty one native to Sedgewick. Each man had picked his own poison, as the saying went. Four of the skeletons had hands of cards on the table in front of them. Numerous aces and kings were also visible in rotted sleeves and tattered finery. He wondered about the contents of the deck they played with but didn''t touch it. The cards were in good shape. Vibrant inks were visible under the layer of dust. The skeleton who had preferred Nightshade held three jacks and two tens. A winning hand in most games and was better than the one next to him, consisting of two jacks and three sevens. Jacks were as popular as Aces. The next hand was three jacks and two eights. The fourth man had been disgusted with his busted straight flush consisting of 2, 3, 4, 5 of spades and a 7 of diamonds. He''d stabbed the cards with a dagger.
The last man''s hand was face down. He had one skeletal hand wrapped around the winnings and a long dagger in his back. His poison of choice was the local Belladonna. Unable to resist his curiosity, Mcteeth turned over the cards. They were thick paper and the size of a tarot deck. The images stared at him. Ace of Spades, Ace of Clubs, Eight of Spades, Eight of Clubs, and finally, the Queen of Hearts. The Queen had a drop of blood on the card.
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Mcteeth shook his head. "Two pair wins over a full house? What kind of rules were they playing?"
A bony hand grasped his wrist, and he was suddenly so cold that he couldn''t move. "The Queen of Hearts is always wild, kid. You must not have much experience with women. I won the game but took a knife in the back. Ignoring an assassin while playing cards is bad, especially when you marry her. Spiteful and jealous, she was a real firecracker. I''m gonna miss that gal, but she sure didn''t miss me."
"But enough chit-chat. What brings you down here? Last I heard, things were closing up. Druid troubles. That''s what led to some disagreements between the brotherhood. What have I missed?"
Mcteeth could barely stammer. "Druids are gone, and the baron is back. The statue..it ate me." He managed to pull a dagger from his belt and stab the arm holding him. The silvered knife cut into the rotted arm, but fell to the ground, smoking. That hurt McTeeth. He''d paid a halfling paladin in Marlsburg 50 gold for a knife guaranteed to Strike Undead. It seems no one could be trusted these days.
The skull looked at the arm and back at Mcteeth. "You got Moxy, kid. Normally I hate recruits with too much of a spine, but I''m low on choices, and you come recommended. You picked up my hand, and now you have to play it. Welcome to the Brotherhood of Thieves. Put on the ring, and let''s get to work." The skeleton released him and tossed him the tarnished ring.
Mcteeth looked at it. It was old, and while it looked like silver, it gave the feeling of being much harder.
The skeleton nodded. "Congrats, kid. You''re the new Guild Master for as long as you can keep it. I''m Gestas or Gus for short. I''m your wise and cryptic advisor. I''ll be around to kick your ass in gear until you get the guild set up properly."
"Your mouth is hanging open, kid. Hungry? Trying to catch flies."
Mcteeth knew when to take a deal. He slid the ring on and saw a series of notifications. "Ready to get to work, sir. What''s first?"
Gus swept the coins and loot in the center of the table into a bag on his belt that was still in passable shape but far too small to hold all the items. Then he gathered up the cards and shuffled them. He pulled out a card and tossed it on the table. The seven of swords looked up at Mcteeth, six rogues sharpening knives and glaring at him, while one was running off with most of the loot. "A good card to start with. Time to put the band back together. The door by the bar leads out. Left goes up to a quaint village full of pretty girls and good food. The other way heads out to one of our main camps. Behind the bar is a privy, and a secret door that leads up to the big city. That''s not known to many. Check both the other places for new recruits. And kid? What''s your name?"
The new guild master looked at his ring and smiled. "Call me Mcteeth."
The quaint village turned out to be a group of a few dilapidated buildings around a dried-up fountain and a massive, crooked house that loomed over the rest. Nothing moved except a couple of ghouls looking for a bone. Mcteeth closed the door to the shack and climbed back down. Hungrytown could wait for later. Billy was determined to kill every ghoul. Mcteeth had better things to do. The other tunnel dipped downward and twisted and turned, sometimes through natural caverns. After what felt like miles, it angled upward. A short ladder led to a concealed door in a wooden shack. Nothing was in the shack except a table piled with small pamphlets and penny dreadfuls. Mcteeth carefully looked out a crack in the door.
Men in patched clothing sat at a table or on logs by the fire drinking ale from a keg and roasting fat rabbits on the fire. "Good grog, Isaiah. Where did you steal this one from?"
One of the men smiled proudly. "Went to the inn with a wagon to ''gather up the empties and make a delivery. I took in three empty barrels, pulled three full ones from the store room, and they even paid me for them, thinking I was from the brewery. Sold two of the barrels to the goblins and brought the third down for the enjoyment of the brotherhood."
Mcteeth slid out from the door and calmly walked to the keg, pouring himself a beer. It wasn''t bad. Definitely brewed in Sedgewick. A few of the bandits noticed him and looked around, confused.
"Who the hell are you to be stealing our beer?"
Mcteeth smiled. "I run the Thieves Guild in Gadobhra, and lucky for you fine fellows I have some openings I''d like to fill."
Chapter 257: Sailing Home
"Aaaahhhh!! Dammit."
Woodrat yelled as the Splinter abruptly went into a steep dive and descended hundreds of feet as the hull lost heat and lift. Splinter had been ascending steadily through the highest levels of the Smoke and had transitioned into Sky a few minutes ago when she clipped the edge of a fluffy, white cloud. Rather than pass through as she had the light-colored smoke, her hull cooled, and the smokejammer began to drop quickly. There were accompanying screams from the rest of the crew as the ship descended, but everyone on the ship was wisely double-chained and holding on tight. This wasn''t the first time the ship had dropped altitude without warning.
"Didn''t I warn you about those things?" Joe was standing next to Woodrat, one of the three people on the ship not attached to a safety chain. Mariah, Joe, and Old Smoke walked around the ship as if its movements didn''t affect them at all. Everyone else held on as if their lives depended on it, which they did. "Up here, those fluffy white things aren''t hot smoke. They have a lot of wetness and will steal the heat from the hull. Even those little, wispy ones can be bad. Lose your hull''s heat, and you''ll lose your altitude. Now, to get us heading back up, use heat from the sails to heat up the hull. And quit that screaming. Nothing like a screaming captain to make the crew nervous. We could fall a long way before we hit the smoke and still have enough time to recover."
Woodrat concentrated on the mainsail. The new sails felt odd and very different from what he was used to. They were more complex than before, with the fire layered between thin sheets of smoke and air. They looked like glowing white cloth and were three inches thick. The two old Cyclones had woven the sails themselves, using heat and smoke provided by Joe. He couldn''t take all of his power back to the Conjunction. Some of it he would disperse into the smoke as a wild cyclone, and some would be bound into Splinter. The new sails allowed Splinter to gain and lose altitude, turning her into a proper Smokejammer. Joe had told Woodrat that once, there had been dozens of such ships that sailed between the planes, but politics, wars, and accidents had thinned their number. Woodrat was finding out just how easy accidents could happen.
The ship leveled out. Woodrat concentrated on his navigation. "I''ll get the knack of it. It''s just a matter of balancing the heat, scanning the horizon for problems, and watching out for stray air currents that I can''t see. I''m sure it will be smooth sailing from here on out." The statement was made with a large dose of sarcasm.
Joe nodded. "Yep, handle all of that, and you''ll be fine. We can worry about teaching you how to sail in rain storms and snow when we get to the conjunction. They make staying up pretty tricky. Not nearly as long to fall in the junction, and you land hard."
Woodrat looked at the smoke golem from the corner of his eye with suspicion. "Snow? That''s a myth that sailors use to scare new crew. Everyone knows it doesn''t exist." He looked at Ozzy for confirmation.
The Butcher was busy with Old Smoke but paused to yell back at Woodrat. "I hope we get back in the middle of winter so I can introduce you to snowball fights. I''ll get our Refrigerator Mage to make me some snow if not. You can judge if it''s a myth when it hits you in the face."
Woodrat adjusted course to avoid another cloud while looking at Ozzy to see if he was joking. "It''s a shame how vindictive and cruel you got when I promoted you to Captain. Threatening an old friend with a horrible myth? And I suppose you won''t tell me about this Winter thing until we get there?"
Ozzy smiled. "I look forward to introducing you to all the joys of weather in the Conjunction." He turned back to Old Smoke. The Cyclone was fulfilling his promise to teach him some tricks.
"So these smoke abilities will be spells once we hit the Conjunction? Using mana and having to shout out the words like wizards do there?"
Old Smoke laughed. "Mana, yes, but not the shouting part. That''s just a thing the academies teach new students. It helps them have some confidence and works as a memory tool. A good mage doesn''t need to shout out a spell name any more than a warrior needs to scream before he takes a swing at you. Both are popular in an arena but not needed for real battles. You''ve gained a feel for using Smoke and Heat in an elemental plane, which gives you experience that a wizard in the conjunction just doesn''t have. What I''m going to do now is give you the spell matrices that will let you do the same things in the Conjunction by casting spells as you could do in the Smoke. Same idea, just different rules there."
"Normally, I''d start a Butcher with Tier 1 abilities, then send him back to practice and earn the higher Tier versions on their own. But, seeing as I owe you a big favor and you''ve already half learned them on your own, I''m going to let you skip up to the Tier 3 versions. They''ll be a lot more powerful. You''ll need some practice with them before you hit Tier 4 and can upgrade them again. Remember that these spells aren''t something they teach in an academy and someone from those fancy magic schools is going to have questions. Feel free to ignore them. If they want my secrets they can come to visit. And while High Tier mages with an Aspect of Fire can progress to Heat and build a furnace in their belly, you won''t encounter many. It takes a lot of work. Most would rather just rely on their mana. You''ve already got that, so it will give you some advantages. You won''t burn as hot as in the Smoke, but you''ll have plenty of power to manifest your spells."
Ozzy was curious about that. "Does anyone that visits the Smoke gain a furnace?"
"No, when you visit a plane of existence with different rules, you might change a little so that you can live there. An un-adapted human in the smoke will be constantly coughing and will look like a piece of jerky after a day. And be nothing but charcoal a minute after entering Fyre. So, entering the plane changes you some, and heading home changes you back.
"You came into the Smoke with a lot of fire and anger already in you and the Smoke decided to give you a furnace. It might have gone away if you''d only been here for a quick vacation and left. But you gained something extra when Jack stuck a chunk of the Burning Man inside you. It grew stronger as you dealt with doomed souls and the eruption''s heat. You were carrying a furnace bigger than any mortal was designed to take by the time you fought Blackgut. Now that we''ve relieved you of his little present, and sent those souls to where they need to go, what you earned and grew inside of you is yours to keep, even in the Conjunction. It won''t be easy to keep it full. The Conjunction is cold and dreary compared to the Smoke. You''ll get back a little each day if you eat right, and more if you drink right as well. And with a good source of heat, you can pull some into you. But that will drain your stamina down quickly. Pulling Heat is a lot of work."
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Ozzy thought of Makken and his ''Strawberry Surprise''. "I can think of a few things that might help." He rubbed at his shoulder where a picture of two large, crossed axes was tattooed on his skin. "Damn, this thing still hurts. It felt like my whole arm fell off when you first put it there."
The cyclone laughed. "Blame those oversized choppers of yours. They''re heavy, bloodthirsty, and prone to violence. Making them obey me was a chore. But they''re yours now and won''t lose their smoke in the Conjunction. They''ll take a bit from you each day and never need sharpening. Call it part of the favor I owed you." He straightened his back and took a deep breath.
"Alright, I think I have a few things ready for you. Just sit back and let a little of my smoke trickle up into your brain." Old Smoke breathed out, and streamers of red, black, and white smoke flew toward Ozzy and up into his nose. It tickled for a second, and then a kaleidoscope of images hit his brain all at once. "Just sit still while those settle in, and you should be able to cast them after Captain Woodrat drops us into the Conjunction." Ozzy was staring into space, looking at all the pretty colors. The knowledge settled into his brain like he had spent years studying at an Arcane Academy.
Hours later, after the Splinter had traveled far enough into the Skye, Old Smoke showed Woodrat and Mariah the trick of navigating to the gateway to the Conjunction. "It''s hard the first time, but once you''ve traveled through it, the ship will remember the course, and you''ll get a feeling for where to go when you''re at the helm. There aren''t many ships that can make the trip anymore. But still, it''s best to keep the knowledge to yourselves. You''ve earned the knowledge. Others have to do the same."
Joe addressed his brother. "How far are you headed? Ozzy has a nice little smokehouse I sit around and mind during the days. You could come and sit for a spell if you need a vacation after your boat ride."
Old Smoke looked tempted but shook his head and sighed. "It''s a pleasant thought. But I have too much power for the gods to be happy with me running loose, and someone needs to keep the Undersmoke running smoothly. I''m thinking that instead of letting them bind me, I''ll find my own spot to put some of it, as you did. But keep a spot by the smokehouse open for me. If I find a good replacement to run things, I might be tempted to take a vacation." Just before Splinter left for the Conjunction, he flew away, scattering clouds and pushing the winds around as he made his way down to the Smoke.
The transition to the Conjunction was abrupt. One second they were in Skye and heading for a small golden fissure, and the next, they were in the Conjunction and sailing through the clear air on a sunny day. Woodrat adjusted course to stay clear of clouds and set the ship on a course to descend. The world spread out beneath them, astounding the crew with strange colors and shapes. The ordinary sights of the Conjunction were strange to people who only knew of Islands floating in the seas of the Smoke. Butterbelly had experienced things like mountains and lakes before, but they were new and unknown to Woodrat, Derek, Mariah, and the rest of the crew. As they descended lower and passed a mountain range, Ozzy pointed to the top. "That''s snow. A cloud that got so cold it turned solid. We can stop and get some if you like?" Woodrat shuddered at the thought of anything that cold. But what interested him was the things growing on the mountain.
"By the Queens'' knickers! Are those trees?! Just growing there? How much wood is there in the Conjunction?"
Ozzy laughed at him. "Enough that we can fill up your hold with a nice cargo for the return trip." The Butcher held out a small length of silver chain, and it pointed twenty degrees to starboard. "Take a bearing from the chain and head that way. We want to get to Sedgewick before the sun goes down."
The lookout atop Rowan keep scanned the sky, rubbed his eyes, and scanned again. He blew notes on his horn to alert the commander to a strange occurrence. The sight of a gold and black ship with glowing white sails was something he hadn''t seen before. By the time the ship was sailing past the keep, every soldier was on the walls. The centurion scanned the boat with a spyglass, chuckled, and then yelled out the order to stand down and return to normal business. He didn''t know what was happening, but he had recognized the large figure standing at the rail and waving to him.
He turned to a private. "Please tell Optio Gustavus that our Butcher is back, and he should take the wagons down to Sedgewick tomorrow for a load of meat and to see what sort of story he can get out of him." One problem was solved, and a new mystery was added. "Hold, on second thought, tell the Optio that I''ll be heading there with him. I want to hear this story first hand."
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Global Announcement
Captain Ozimandias Shipbreaker has journeyed to the elemental planes and sailed upon the Seas of Smoke. Together with Captain Woodrat and the crew of the Smokejammer, Splinter, they have traveled between the elemental planes and the Conjunction. These planes are now open to those brave souls who can find their way. Four temples of the Elements can be found somewhere on the mortal plane of the Conjunction. Perhaps in their depths is a good place to start a Journey into the Unknown?
Seek the Temple of Fire and Smoke in the lands of the Empire.
Seek the Temple of Frost and Skye to the far North and the lands of the Maple Priests
Seek the Temple of Waves and Ooze beneath a Forbidden Tower in the sea near Shadowport
Seek the Temple of Grinding Earth and Magma in the Desolation of Typhon
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Chapter 258: Horse Sense
Ozzy was still light-headed even hours after they dropped into the Conjunction. New ideas were running through his head, and trying to find a home. Eventually, it all settled down. As Joe and Old Smoke had warned him, things were a little different now.
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Welcome home to the Conjunction.
Your travels in the smoke have changed you and gifted you with the ability to store heat in your furnace. There are advantages and downsides to this. Some types of magic will work poorly against you, and some will have a greater effect. Let''s say that Woodrat isn''t the only one who has to worry about snowballs. You''ll figure it all out.
Heat in the Conjunction:
Only Heat and Smoke are tracked. Fuel is the food in your stomach. If you are hungry, using fuel will cause damage to your stamina. Spells from the Aspect of Heat will draw heat directly from your furnace. Spells that require smoke will drain your reserves and then require smoke be made from fuel and mana. There is no limit to the amount of smoke you can make, but it can only be replenished by burning mana.
Or stealing the life force of sentient creatures, but good Butchers don''t have that skill. No, not judging you.
Heat can be replenished by absorbing it from something else, which drains stamina at a rate of 10 stamina to 1 heat.
You may also regain heat by eating. Certain foods will give more heat, and producing heat takes more food than normal. Normal food and drink will replenish 50 heat per day. Fuel heavy foods such as smoked ham, coal, and dwarven whiskey will restore much more.
Mana Conversion: 1 heat + 5 mana = 10 Smoke
Furnace (Maximum Heat): 50 x Level (11)
+The aspect of Heat: +50 x Rank (8)
+The aspect of Radiance: +50 x Rank (1)
+The aspect of Fire: +50 x Rank (10)
+Ambrosia of the Gods: +500 (currently 2)
Current Furnace = 2500
(Smoker) Maximum Smoke: Aspect of Smoke x100
+(COR + RAD) x 50
Current Smoker: 3550
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In a short time, you have learned to cast many spells without the practice essential to understanding how your magic works. You will gain a better idea of what each spell does and how it can be enhanced by heat from your furnace by using them. Go burn a few things.
You have gained the Aspect of Heat. This is a complex aspect.
You have learned the Spell: Butcher''s Breath.
You have learned the Spell: Shielding.
You have learned the Cantrip: Absorb Heat.
You have retained your furnace: Max Heat = 2500 Current Heat = 2500
You have gained smoke storage. Max smoke storage = 3150. Current Smokehouse = 3150
You have gained the Aspect of Wood.
You have learned the Spell: Infused Wood
You have learned the Cantrip: Shape Wood
You have gained the Aspect of Radiance.
You have upgraded a cantrip to Spell: Cleanse
The Aspect of Smoke has grown more powerful
You have learned the Spell: Smoke Breather.
You have learned the Spell: Jaws of the Void.
You have learned the Spell: Smoke Creation.
You have learned the Spell: Chain Drag (A more powerful version of the Butcher skill.)
You have combined aspects of your Chain Drag and Woomera skills into a new Spell: Smoke Lance.
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Rolly jogged into the refugee camp as the sun was coming up. "We have trouble coming from two directions, Ben. The raiders that burned out the last village picked up the trail of the wagons that joined us yesterday. They''re taking their time. They don''t have to hurry at all with how slow we have to move. But they''ll hit us by noon if we don''t slow them up. Squirmy has some plans. Traps, some ambushes, and a final heroic charge. If that bridge gets finished, it might buy you enough time to get across the river. But there''s something else you should know. That Red Banner group is better than they look. If they come after us, we won''t make it, heroic deaths or not. And we can''t handle both groups."
Ben cursed. This was so stupid. PinchPenny was burning out his own people, declaring them bandits and harrying them north. Suzette had convinced Billy that a few hundred farmers plus lots of cleared land would be profitable. Certainly more profitable than a huge refugee camp outside of Rowan Keep. And Alchemarx was involved in all parts of it. PinchPenny wasn''t talking to anyone, and the corporation was running most of Northguard. Rumor had it that the miser Baron had suffered a breakdown. Rolly had begun negotiations with him but received no replies to his later letters. It was a nasty mix of politics and corporations competing with each other, and ordinary people were caught in the crossfire, just like in the old world. Ben hated it.
Families were sleeping under their wagons and make-shift tents made from stretching tarps between wagons. Tiny, nearly smokeless fires were burning, and porridge was being prepared for the children. Rolly had found three feral cows and convinced them to join the caravan and donate some of their milk. The adults were getting by on dried apples and smoked meat from Sedgewick, but Rolly insisted on better food for the younger children. The wagons held everything these people owned. If the cavalry attacked, they''d be forced to leave the wagons and flee into the woods, scattering and hoping to make it across the river. Some would get lost. Some would die. All of them would be destitute.
Rolly had done a great job of gathering information, though, which might give them a chance. It all depended on whether what he suspected was true. "Feel up to a little ride, Rolly? Let''s go visit Captain Bernice."
The Red Banner had good scouts and long before Mudhead got close to the camp, they had been seen. The cavalry troop looked like it was almost ready to head out. In the camp, Bernice was wondering why she had an Imperial Courier heading to her camp. The man had someone riding behind him and was coming in at a normal pace. Couriers could move extremely fast when they had to. The big roan was barely breathing hard. Bernice went to meet him.
Like all couriers, the man couldn''t resist a fancy dismount. After a leaping roll, he removed his hat and bowed like he was in court before placing it under one arm. The other man slid off the horse and patted it affectionately. He pulled out an apple and gave it to the roan but otherwise kept his distance. The courier stepped forward.
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"Greetings, ma''am. Benjamin of the House of Franklin, at your service. I was wondering if we might take some time to speak this morning? I''ve heard that the cavalry hired by Baron PinchPenny are busy herding refugees north, but you have some very fine horses and starving farmers with children move slowly, so I think a small delay while we talk won''t make much difference in how their day is ruined."
Bernice colored, and some of her guards muttered to themselves. The man''s words were flowery, but the tone was scornful. She got herself under control before she answered. "What my company does is our own business. What do you need to talk about?"
The courier indicated the entire company. "Why, your horses. Your wonderful horses. Your men might be rough around the edges, and their gear might be old, but your horses are in fine shape, and their saddles are a notch above what even the Legion uses. Underneath that coat of old stain is some fine leather. Good saddles and tack to go with mighty fine horses."
The Captain scowled. "If you are trying to delay me, you need more than some talk about our nags. Red Banner is known for their good horses; we only buy the best."
Ben quirked an eyebrow. "But did you buy all of these? They''re a tight-knit group. All of those horses come from breeding lines that go back to a stallion called King Red. Some of your mounts he sired directly, and others are one or two generations out. And many are also from the same dams. It''s very suspicious that even a wealthy mercenary company always buys horses from the same stable. And from what I hear, the stud fees on King Red were quite expensive."
Bernice glanced at the horses and back to the Courier. "Bullshit. No one can tell the genealogy of a horse by looking at it."
Benjamin turned to his companion. "She has a point, Roland. How did you come by this information."
Rolly moved forward and bowed clumsily while holding a burlap sack. "Easy. The horses told me. They''re very proud of their heritage. I know how all of them are related. We talked about a lot of things, like how they can''t wait to get back to their cozy stables in Wolfsburg."
One of the men laughed. "The horses told you?" More laughter came as Rolly''s words were repeated back through the ranks.
Bernice stared hard at the man. At first, she couldn''t identify him, and then he winked at her.
| Rolly (The Lord of Ducks) ( Hero)
Level 13
Contract Worker: Heroic Shepherd |
He grinned. "Shepherds talk to animals. It''s sort of our main job."
Bernice was getting angry. "I simply will not believe that you snuck into camp and talked to my horses." From behind her came the sound of horses snorting and whinnying. Her soldiers saw that many were rolling their eyes. Bernice put a hand on her face, took a deep breath, and prayed for calm. "Shit. I am not going to let it be said that I had less sense than a horse. What is it that you want?"
Ben said very calmly. "A moment of your time for a private conversation?"
Bernice dismounted and walked with him a short distance away. Rolly started tossing apples to the horses and calling them by name. Each horse snatched the apples out of the air with expert precision, making their riders nervous.
Ben looked at the mercenary captain. "We''ve observed you. I won''t say how, but we''ve seen what you''ve done since before you went past Northguard without stopping. I couldn''t put it together at first. I don''t know what you said to Alchemarx, but you didn''t sign a contract. Nor did you talk to PinchPenny. Mostly you just rode around, observed, and made it look like you were doing a job for the Baron. It''s a sham. But with Rolly''s information, it becomes clearer. Most likely, you are spying for the Duke on what is happening in the northern part of his lands. You also don''t like what you saw. Your men are better than common mercenaries. And very protective of you. Six of them are ready to charge over here if I make one wrong move. Getting close?"
Bernice sighed. "Close enough. Now what?"
Ben pointed to the forest. "Barely three miles in that direction are two-hundred and fifty-seven adults and one hundred forty-six children trying to make it to Rowan Keep without being robbed or killed. Only a few miles behind them are two dozen of Alchemarx''s thugs. Rolly and I are going to go kill as many as we can to buy the refugees time. We invite you to join us. We''ll be going now. Follow us, go home, or try and stop us. That''s up to you."
The shepherd started running toward the forest. Shimmering green scale-mail armor covered his clothes. From the air came a large hawk that landed on his shoulder. The roan horse trotted to the Courier, who leaped astride, saluted with his hat, and rode off. Bernice considered his words for a moment. Her husband wouldn''t be happy with her attacking troops technically attached to Northguard. But he''d be more upset if she didn''t. And she''d hate herself for not helping those people. She was frustrated, but a good workout would help.
"Mount up, follow those two, and be prepared to hit hard. My bodyguard on me. Put squads one and two right behind us in a lance formation. Scouts are to split and guard our flanks until we engage, and then I want you in their backfield, cutting off runners. Let''s go."
Two hours later, the bodies of twenty mercenaries who didn''t have the sense to surrender were dumped into a large grave. Four smarter men had their hands bound and were starting the long trip back to Wolfsburg with the Red Banner. The refugees had made it to the river, where a dozen men were laying massive logs across the river to make a temporary bridge. As the last wagon crossed, someone shouted. High in the air, a gleaming ship was sailing through the sky, heading to Sedgewick. A message flashed before everyone''s eyes.
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Global Announcement
Captain Ozymandias Shipbreaker has journeyed to the elemental planes and sailed upon the Seas of Smoke. Together with Captain Woodrat and the crew of the Smokejammer, Splinter, they have traveled between the elemental planes and the Conjunction. These planes are now open to those brave souls who can find their way. Four temples of the Elements can be found somewhere on the mortal plane of the Conjunction. Perhaps in their depths is a good place to start a Journey into the Unknown?
Seek the Temple of Fire and Smoke in the lands of the Empire.
Seek the Temple of Frost and Skye to the far North and the lands of the Maple Priests
Seek the Temple of Waves and Ooze beneath a Forbidden Tower in the sea near Shadowport
Seek the Temple of Grinding Earth and Magma in the Desolation of Typhon
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The courier and the shepherd said quick good byes, mounted and prepared to ride off, trying to race a flying ship and get home to welcome home a wayward butcher.
The combination of the message, the hasty leave-taking of the courier and the shepherd, and the golden ship sailing north wasn''t lost on Bernice. One more thing she was going to have to deal with at some point.
Chapter 259: Trade Talks
It was Lord Hound who spotted the ship first. He came into the tavern, slamming open the door and barking at ''Bob'' who was sitting with ''Harry'' and ''Selma'' enjoying a casual lunch. Suzette''s tavern had become a popular place for certain people to come and not be Lords of the Fae for an hour or two. The unofficial rules laid down in each of their lands forbid disturbances. Bob had made no such rule for Lord Hound. He knew the Hound would ignore the rule, which would be embarrassing.
Selma (known elsewhere as Duchess Midnight, The Graceful Lady of Silent Daggers) tittered and rolled her eyes. "Your Hound seems upset, Bob. Perhaps he needs to be better trained? Give him to me for a fortnight, and I will send him back to you without his bark." Bob bowed his head, acknowledging the offer, but declined. "I find his bark useful. Excuse me while I take him for a walk." As Bob left to walk his dog, Harry got up as well. Lord Cyrus Vordinphelt was no fool and had long ago learned the language of the hounds. If he was interpreting the dog correctly, a Smokejammer from the elemental planes was about to land near the town. He tried to move casually and not betray his excitement, but Duchess Midnight was not fooled. She stood and took his arm. "How splendid. We can all take a walk and see what the dog does. I''m sure that something is going on if the two of you are both interested."
The ship sailed gracefully up to the town and settled slowly until it was only thirty feet above the ground. Suzette was already there, waving up to the ship. While the Splinter was still a hundred feet in the air, Ozzy had jumped to the ground to meet her, slowed by a black chain that reeled out behind him. She noticed that he landed heavily, his boots sinking into the dirt, but with more grace than usual. Life on a ship looked like it had been good for him. The Butcher was dressed in a fancy coat and hat with grey leather breaches tucked into his boots. A captain''s hat perched on his head. The two ran to each other, and she leaped into his arms, holding him tight. "I''ve missed you! I had the worst dreams while you were gone." Ozzy held her tighter. "Trust me; I know how you felt."
Duchess Midnight had been walking quickly, intending to speak with the ship''s Captain first, but was taken aback as the man leaped from his ship and scooped up the little half-breed barmaid who ran the local tavern. She sighed in exasperation, so like a sailor to go for the first skirt he sees. It must have been a long voyage. Lord Vordinphelt held her arm as she went to greet the man and gain his attention. While it was rude to poach a business dealing while in an allied mortal realm of someone else, she could claim that the ship had yet to land, and therefore he was fair game.
"Have care. Do you intend to anger the Summer Lord? He is young and na?ve, but his position in court is growing. I advise caution and diplomacy." Her ally kept his voice low.
She whispered back. "I detest ''slow and steady wins the race.'' The opportunity is here. I''d rather hang for being a hare than live as a tortoise." She shook off his arm and walked forward quickly. Behind her, Lord Vordinphelt smiled and stood relaxed with his hands behind his back, content to watch the show.
"My, but I do love a man in uniform. Greetings Captain. I am Duchess Midnight, Lady of the Fae. I would speak to you about your visit with the idea of entering into a trading agreement." She put out her hand to be kissed. The little barmaid was scowling at her as if she could kill with her eyes alone. As someone who actually could kill with just a look, the Duchess found her attempt amusing. The captain took her hand but, instead of bending to kiss it, just pumped it up and down as if she was some mortal he was dealing with. "Nice to meet you. I''m Captain Ozzy. Glad to talk business later, but I''m a little busy at the moment."
That agreement was all she needed. By fae law, she had offered to enter into talks, and he had agreed. The hare takes the lead. "Oh, by all means, Captain, take time to dally with the local flowers. I''ll be in touch." She turned and sauntered away, leaving behind a furious barmaid and a confused Butcher. Ozzy gave Suzette a long kiss and then took her by the arm. "Come over here; I have people I want you to meet." A ladder had been put down, and people descended from the ship. The first was a smaller man also dressed in a Captain''s coat and hat, his quite better made than Ozzy''s with decorations on the shoulders and a splay of diamond jewelry on the hat. Something clicked in Suzette''s mind, and she laughed. "That''s the Captain of this ship, isn''t it?"
"Yep, hard to miss with that sparkly display on his hat. It was a present from Old Smoke himself. Yo, Woodrat, meet the most important person in my life."
Woodrat doffed his hat and bowed to Suzette. "You must be Suzette. He talked about you." He rolled his eyes at Ozzy. "Talked about you a lot! I was trapped with this large lump of a mate on a small raft for some time. I feel like I know half the people in this town already. And do I correctly remember that you own a tavern? I would be happy to make you rich for the rest of the day and half the night."
Other members of the crew were gathered around now. Introductions between the townsfolk and the crew took some time. Suzette met each one with a smile and a curtsey, getting blushes from some of the humans and a warm smile from a giant and a woman floating in the air. Joe waved from the ship. "Go on with you. Get your beer and food. I''ll make sure Splinter stays in one spot. But you best go check in with that Pit of yours. It missed you and has been waiting for you to get back."
Ozzy looked over at the smokehouse, there was a rattle of chains, and smoke was pouring out of the chimney. "Yeah, that''s a good point. Can you take this crew and get them some beer, Suzy? I need to go talk to my monster."
Remembering what the Pit had been like in his absence, Suzette grudgingly admitted that was a good idea. "Of course, I can. She hooked her arm through Captain Woodrat''s and started toward the tavern. "So, any embarrassing stories you can tell me about Ozzy and what he got up to?" Woodrat laughed. "Do you want the story about him making friends with a whale or a giant squid first?"
Butterbelly went with Ozzy to see the Pit. "I''ve got to tell you; I''m both curious and scared. I''ve never heard of a sentient smoke pit, let alone one that started as a demonic charnel pit."
Ozzy nodded. "Yeah, it''s something else. Higher level than I am now and fully capable of doing a lot of the work on its own. We can turn out barrel after barrel of tasty smoked meat. I''m anxious to get back to cooking some stuff up. He opened the doors and yelled out. "It''s Ok; I''m home!" Several silvered chains grabbed him and pulled him inside. Flames roared from the pit, and smoke filled the room. "I think it wants to get right to work. How do you feel about slopping some sauce on a dozen sedge beast carcasses after I do a horse-radish rub on them?" Ozzy shook loose the chains, dumped a pile of screaming coal into the pit, and started hanging sedge beast halves on the chains.
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Butterbelly set down his pot and got out his brush. "Sounds tasty; let''s get to work." A salty tear came to his eye. He had enjoyed the Smoke, but the roaring fire and billowing clouds reminded him of Muspelheim. Maybe his sister would want to move here and go husband hunting? This was a lovely house for a honeymoon.
Bob had a wonderful time that night in the tavern. Harry and Selma had left suddenly, but he had many new friends to talk to. As the night wore on, he found himself at a table with Billy and Captain Woodrat. Woodrat had picked up enough chatter in the tavern to know who his tablemates were. He''d spent a lot of time in taverns, and with his high perception, it was easy to separate conversations and pick up tidbits of information.
Billy was asking subtle questions about what Captain Woodrat might be carrying on his ship and what he might be looking to pick up. The captain smiled and started on his ninth bottle of dark ale. It was thick, tasty, and far different from what was brewed in the smoke. "Well, locally brewed alcohol, for one thing. Of course, we make ale and rum, and whiskey is around for the right price. Wine if you have a connection to the islands. But overall, alcohol is a luxury, and by the number of barrels that little barmaid has hauled up the stairs and how much I''m getting for a couple of gold shells, it seems common. I''d be happy with a load of barrels and a cargo of wood."
Billy was happy to hear that. He pulled three cigars out of a pocket and offered them to the other two gentlemen at his table. Woodrat snapped his fingers and lit them. "Wood and alcohol are two things we are known for in Sedgewick. And Bob here may also know someone who has goods to trade."
Bob puffed on his cigar. The baron had a fine tobacco field here in Sedgewick and the arcane knowledge to turn it into cigars. The box he had given to the King had gained him a great deal of thanks, and cigars were all the rage now in court. The Summer Lord and the Baron had agreed to limit the supply, keeping the price high, which only served to make them more popular. "Indeed, I have met the Summer Lord on occasion, and he has read some stories of the old days when the Fae still traded with the Planes. I have rare trees growing in my...in his demesne that were valued in the smoke.
Everblooming Cherry, Sugar Maple, and White Hazel."
Woodrat had heard of those. They were never cut. Only a few existed on one island, in the royal forest. "I''d pay well for the wood and even more for saplings to take back to my own island."
Billy showed off by making a bird out of the cigar smoke and sending it flying around the room. Bob followed suit, making a hawk that chased Billy''s bird. Woodrat breathed out a dozen small sharks that killed and ate the birds, then fought until only one remained that came back to hover above him. Billy and Bob took long pulls of their tankards and pretended nothing had happened. The man who wasn''t the Baron of Gadobhra had a question. "We know what you want, but what can you bring us from the smoke?"
Woodrat grinned. He snapped his fingers, and a small chest appeared on the table. He opened it and scooped out a handful of items that he theatrically scattered across the table. After all, he had spent time talking with Ozzy and had a good idea of what trade goods to present. "Golden shells, pearls black as night, and rubies that glow with the fires below. I''ll bring you a pirate''s treasure."
Bob looked at the gems, entranced, and then made a decision. Twitterberry and the Hound were suddenly at his side as witnesses. "I, Lord Alwyn, a Summer Lord of the Fae, wish to propose that talks between myself, the Baron of Gadobhra, and Captain Woodrat of the ship, Splinter, take place at a time convenient to those two gentlemen." Captain Woodrat watched as completely normal Bob became a dashingly handsome man with piercing eyes, dressed in fine silks and leather. The tavern became quiet as the mortals realized whose presence they were in.
Billy stood up, and his dirty worker''s clothes became noble attire in black and red. His eyes glowed, and he exuded power. "The Baron of Gadobhra is ready to talk business."
Captain Woodrat stood up and let his Aura shine, not to be outdone, matching the other two in stature. "Captain Woodrat, Baron of Cingo and representing the Queens, is interested in trade negotiations. We have food and alcohol, gentlemen, and the night is young. Let''s do some trading."
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Corporate Announcement
Captain Ozymandias Shipbreaker, has journeyed to the elemental planes and sailed upon the Seas of Smoke. Together with Captain Woodrat and the crew of the Smokejammer, Splinter, they have traveled between the elemental planes and returned to the Conjunction.
William Horvacs of the ACME corporation, AKA Baron William of Gadobhra, AKA ''The Butcher Baron,'' has opened a trade route to the Demi-plane of Smoke and negotiated a trade agreement with Alwyn, Summer Lord of the Fae. ACME is the first corporation to open a trade route to another plane and the first corporation to sign a trade agreement with a Fae Realm.
ACME Corporation, Northern Division, under the control of William Horvacs, has gained 37,500 building points.
The Hamlet of Sedgewick, under the control of Mayor Suzette, the Lonely Barmaid, has gained 12,500 building points.
Captain Woodrat, Baron of Cingo, has increased his Aura by +1 and is acknowledged by the Queens as their representative to the Conjunction.
Alwyn, the Fae Lord of Summer, and his entourage will now be seated at a table only two removed from his Majesty, Oberon, at the next feast. He is encouraged to bring gifts. Red shiny gifts.
The Fae Realm of Alwyn, Lord of Summer, has been granted an increase. He may now claim a realm twice its former size.
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Chapter 260: Homecoming
An hour of hard work by two strong men filled the hungry chains of the charnel pit with the carcasses of slaughtered sedge beasts. Thick smoke filled the building that would have choked anyone addicted to breathing normal air. The charnel pit, frantic at first at Ozzy''s return, began to calm down. With every breath, he left his mark on the building as his smoke coated the chains, turning them from a greenish silver to a dark black. He hauled down one of the fully smoked beasts, tore off a leg, and tossed it to Butterbelly. The firewalker sniffed it, took a small bite, and then a larger one. "Nice flavor to this. Heavy on the smoke, this meat was grass-fed with a hefty level of dark mana. It leaves a sweet taste on the tongue with just a touch of the bitterness you normally would get with that flavor of magic. For smoked meat without a rub or sauce, it''s quite tasty."
"The Legion certainly thinks so. They buy up all the barrels of meat I can provide. We''re way beyond what the contract was for. They ship the extra to other outposts. For the local guys, I try to add some different flavors. The local guys are pretty easygoing, and I like to do a bit extra for them." Ozzy spent a few minutes filling the pit with a mix of Holly, Rowan, and some Apple wood. It felt like a good mix to go with the 19-spice bear grease. It would burn down slowly through the night after he covered most of the pile with coals and ash. He needed hot smoke, not open fire. He could feel the fire and wood slowly turning to smoke and adjust how much air the fire was getting until he was happy with it.
He ran his hand along the bricks of the pit, feeling their warmth, and added some of his own heat to them. They hummed with appreciation as he brought them to a dull glow. "Good job. We''ll get to work tomorrow. Lot''s to do." The chains above him tinkled like wind chimes.
Butterbelly was curious. "You talk to it? Is it like a pet?"
Ozzy thought about his answer for a moment. "Just seemed right. The thing''s alive now, or sentient at the very least. It''s like a mistreated dog that''s been adopted by a good owner. Eager to work with you and affectionate when it gets some attention, but ignore it, and it will get into trouble. There was a tense moment at first like it wasn''t sure which of us was the boss. After we settled that, we got to work. The damned thing is pretty helpful. I can smoke a herd of cattle with it in a couple of days, and they taste like they were smoked a month. I hope I have the meat and wood to keep it going."
"Here, try some of the bacon. This was done with screaming coal. Great stuff when you need a nice fire and some tasty smoke." The firewalker grinned at the 1/2 pound chunk of smoked pork, put it into his mouth, and started chewing with his oversized teeth. Then his eyes rolled up in his head, and he moaned. "Oh, this is good, just like momma used to make. If you hadn''t said pig, I''d have sworn this was wyvern or wyrm. Great meat on those critters, especially the big ones."
Butterbelly took another look at the smokehouse and hanging meat. "I can see why you were anxious to get home; this is a nice place to live. Thank you for letting me cook with you. And I was glad that this sauce bucket is ever-filling. Without that enchantment, I''d have never kept up with you. But I need some of this beer you talked about. Let''s join friends at the tavern and see how much Woodrat has exaggerated his tales by now."
A roar greeted them as they entered the tavern. Both men had mugs of dark beer thrust into their hands. Butterbelly started emptying mugs as fast as they were handed to him, and eventually, someone got him a bucket with a handle on the side. The Butcher was required to authenticate Woodrat''s lies about surfing on the back of a whale and then help the story about throwing a tornado at a giant squid. One thing was clear to the customers in the tavern: the crew had rehearsed their seaman''s tales and spent time making the lies entertaining. A few workers simply nodded their heads while others laughed, unbelieving. If you had been in Sedgewick since the beginning, you would have seen a lot of weird things. Bob enjoyed every story and instructed Twitterberry and the hound to gather all the tales for him. If he hadn''t been responsible for his realm, he might have signed on as a cabin boy then and there. His drinking partner, Billy, was quiet and thoughtful. It hadn''t escaped him how many crew members were outfitted with magic weapons and gear, along with gemmed rings, necklaces, and cufflinks.
Suzette looked on, bemused, and poured the beer as fast as she could. The crew of the Splinter wasn''t shy about drinking anything she put in front of them. Captain Woodrat had tossed her a small bag of golden shells and asked her to tell him if it ran out. The crew seemed determined to make it a very profitable night for the little tavern. She was happy to have Ozzy back and wouldn''t begrudge him a night of drinking with friends who wanted to celebrate his return. For his part, Ozzy spent an hour greeting people and talking, but as soon as he could, he took Suzette by the arm, and they left the party for their rooms upstairs.
He stretched as they got to the fourth floor and started to relax as he looked around the room. "You wouldn''t believe how much I missed this place. Do you know how long it''s been since I slept in a bed? Not a hammock or hard deck? I''m looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow."
Suzette pointed him toward a large bathtub. "Sleep and other things can wait another few minutes. You also haven''t had a bath in forever and smell like a forest fire. As glad as I am to see you, I need to reintroduce you to water first. Just strip and get in; I can handle the rest." She grabbed a jug off the shelf and poured water into the bathtub. It filled the large, claw-foot tub with lukewarm soapy water. "One of my acquisitions from the dungeon. Maynard''s Bathing Vessel. It puts out enough soapy water daily to fill a small swimming pool. Let me know how hot you want the water. Betty taught me a cantrip for heating water for cleaning dishes. It works just fine for this as well." Ozzy could slowly feel the bath increasing in temperature.
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"Make it as hot as you can; it won''t hurt me. Close to boiling and it will take the ache out my muscles." He relaxed into the large claw-foot tub, his feet sticking out over the far edge. Suzette tossed him a scrub brush. The water went from sudsy to nearly black in a few minutes.
Suzette pulled the plug and let it drain. "Stay in, and I''ll give you a refill. It will take more than one try to rinse all of that off of you."
Ozzy started to relax and then grew puzzled. "Where did the water go to? Did you install plumbing while I was gone?" Modern plumbing was something the village didn''t have. There were hand pumps if a building had a well but no running water. Dishes were washed in large tubs, and the water was dumped out back of the tavern. Water closets used rainwater to flush toilets, and drains led to cisterns that held the accumulated night soil. Using the tub had been a pain before. The water had to be dumped out a window into a drain, a bucket at a time.
Suzette smiled. "One of my better ideas. The lab is right below us. Ben ran a pipe from the tub to the drain in the lab. Anything that goes into it goes away somewhere. It''s great for dumping bad potions and poisons. It can handle a tub of dirty water with ease. Or, in your case, two or three tubs." The third tub did the trick, and Ozzy felt much better. Clad in just a towel, he sat at the small table and enjoyed the food Suzette had ready for him and the first of several beers.
"You have no idea how good this tastes. I really missed your beer. The ale they have in the smoke is ok, but not the same."
Suzette sat and looked at him. He''d changed again. His skin was darker, almost a red-bronze, and the hair of his mustache and short beard were a dark jet black. He had more definition to his muscles and moved easier. "You look like you moved on up to the third tier. You must have been busy. Rolly hit the third tier just after you left for your vacation, but he and his pet are insane. They fight up in Gadobhra, killing ghouls in Hungrytown or critters in the forest. He said Squirmy needed to advance, and he was doing it with her. I swear, sometimes I''m not sure who''s the pet and who''s the owner between those two. Ben and I are about to move up. I had some questions and was hoping you''d get back beforehand."
"But was the trip worth it? You were gone for a couple of months. Not knowing what the hell had happened made it worse."
Ozzy could tell that bothered her¡ªa lot. "I think it was worth it. It certainly paid well. And I certainly didn''t plan it that way. We were shipwrecked and trying to stay alive on a little raft. Then shit just kept happening. Two months? From my point of view, it seemed a lot longer, but nothing is the same in the Smoke. Woodrat and I had some terrifying adventures and caused a lot of trouble. But some of it was glorious. And I did get what I went for, maybe a lot more. Old Smoke was pretty generous when it came time to teach me some tricks. I have a nice set of spells now that combine mana and heat. Stuff other wizards may not have seen. We can take a walk tomorrow, and I can show you. No sense burning down the tavern by accident." He blew out some smoke and made a miniature shark that roamed around the room before diving into a candle. "I can make that little guy get a lot bigger and do some tricks with chains and fire." The way he said that made Suzette sure that they were more than just little tricks.
Suzette got up and examined the tattoos on his arms and shoulders. "I can''t get over the fact that you got tattoos. You never used to like them. Chains, crossed-axes, and pirate chests. I''m surprised you don''t have a big anchor or a can of spinach on one shoulder."
The Butcher smiled at her. "Watch this." The tattoo of a chest disappeared from his arm, and then a similar chest appeared on the floor. Ozzy snapped his fingers, the lid popped, and golden shells spilled out. Suzette saw a king''s ransom in gold and jewelry in it. Her eyes got wide. Ozzy pulled out a long strand of pearls and a necklace of fire-imbued rubies. "I''d tell you to take your pick, but they''re both for you. Generously donated by dastardly denizens of the smoke."
Lustrous Pearls of the Queen of Iskaria: The islands of Iskaria are known for their large, man-eating oysters. These pearls are often purchased at the cost of the divers'' lives. This double strand of over 100 flawless pearls was worn by Queen Lemoria, whose ship was lost at sea to the attack of a Diluvian Kraken.
Suzette ran her hands along the rubies, but the pearls were what sang to her. "These are amazingly beautiful. Where is Iskaria? Did you go there?"
Ozzy shook his head. "A lot of sailing around, yet I never made it to an island. Maybe we could take a vacation someday? We could have Captain Woodrat take us for a ride in Splinter and visit the place. But right now, I want to grab you and crawl into bed." He snapped his fingers again, and all the candles in the room were snuffed.
Suzette laughed. "I agree. And I took the entire day off tomorrow. Let''s stay in bed until noon."
Chapter 261: Lets get the hell out of here before the damnable gods show up.
Jack raced through the Smoke, leaping from current to current as he searched for the troublesome Butcher and Captain. How had they done this? They were long shots¡ªsecondary characters in his grand design. Captain Sharkovic was still building a crew of heroes. The Great Ship Vardark was still aground on an island filled with savages. He hadn''t even talked to the Weaponeers of the Deep Fire or begun talks with the Smokeling Horde. His entire story was coming apart as Cyclones waged war across the planes.
He wasted precious time chasing after Old Joe. The battle was moving too fast. His only hope was to find the Butcher. This was easy as the large man from the Conjunction had a piece of The Burning Man inside of him. He rode a fast current to the end, popped out of the Smoke, and found himself on his missing ship. A ship with glowing sails was flying away in the skies above him. The only person who noticed him was Old Joe, who raised his middle finger, communicating everything Joe thought of him. Jack began to conjure his own ship to go in pursuit but was stopped when a rough, clawed hand wrapped around his neck, and a very dangerous harpoon was put against his throat.
"Don''t do anything that you''ll regret, Jack. Don''t struggle. Don''t run. You know how much that excites me. I''ve chased and caught you, but I''m holding back a feeding frenzy. It won''t take much for you to trigger it." Aeto''le was breathing hard, and her voice was raspy with repressed violence. Palaimon noticed that even at the height of her passion, his sister''s eyes were still the dead black they always were.
Palaimon stood before Jack, making the sometimes-trickster god focus on him. "You have a mess to clean up, Jack. A Black Quadrireme sits here, full of lost souls, and a Great Ship of rescued sailors needs my help. The heroes you created are sailing away on greater adventures. We will speak with the old Cyclones later, but now, we must show the mortals that we are gods and keep our promises."
Jack took a last look at the rapidly moving Splinter. It hurt to see the ship leave without him. They were off to have fun, and he wanted to go too. He''d have to visit Woodrat later and get the story from him. As much as Palaimon loved the little Captain, he had a connection to Jack as well. "Agreed. I promise that I will, as you put it, ''clean up my mess.'' " Aeto''le dropped him to the deck. "Some part of me hoped you''d try to run again. But I will help as well. That ship and its crew were hunted by foes that outmatched them. They turned hunter to prey and won. They have my respect."
Jack bent and picked up a globe of black fire. Someone and it had to be Old Joe, had reached into the Butcher and pulled out the little piece of The Burning Man. The little piece had grown and held hundreds, maybe thousands, of souls taken from charred husks. Just as well, Jack wasn''t sure what would have happened had Ozzy kept this in him. Jack was already split in two; he didn''t need the competition.
Palaimon was already on the other ship, speaking with the Captains, complimenting them, and offering assistance. He split himself into dozens of lesser gods to heal the wounded or revive the newly dead. Evergreen made such a fuss about returning a soul to the upper Smoke without making the proper journey, but that didn''t feel very good today. These men had fought and died to restore the cycle of life and death. He could undoubtedly reward those who died in the last day by restoring them.
Aeto''le moved among the crew, drinking with them and asking for their stories. Morale improved significantly as she coaxed those who had died to throw away the memories of death and dance with her on the deck as the crew pounded out a beat and a lone fiddle appeared to add a tune. She reminded them that they were hunters and not prey. She would sleep with the bravest that night, and her children would be born the following season. Half would be sharks, and half would walk as men. All would be hunters.
Evergreen arrived, making a stately entrance as she descended from the Sky. She had always been slower than the others, an annoyance she hid poorly. The nature Goddess had fixed the gaping hole in Dauntless, new wood growing as the wood wrights watched in awe. She went several steps further, fixing anything wooden on the ship that wasn''t in perfect shape. The crew would remember her on the days they could nap on deck, every chore on the ship finished. When that job was complete, she spoke with the ship''s senior Captain.
Cavendish was in his best uniform, trying to remember the protocol for talking to a goddess. Luckily, the meeting was brief. Evergreen handed him a letter. "Please take this to my granddaughters, your Queens. Things have changed, and we will see more changes in the future. We should talk and plan. You shall be my ambassador to them in this matter." Cavendish held his breath as she pinned a cluster of living leaves and flowers to his uniform and departed.
Jack made a huge show of leaping from spar to spar as he lit the sails of the dauntless. Strangely, he didn''t get the awe and respect he hoped for. It hurt when he overheard two crewmen talking. "Oh, sure, it was helpful. And, of course, a god can snap his fingers, but when Captain Ozzy did it, now that was an impressive feat! Breathing out fire like he was Prometheus himself. That had style." Jack grumbled about it later, after Evergreen arrived. "To think I taught that ungrateful man to breath fire!"
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The other gods rolled their eyes. Evergreen asked. "And what was his reward for your quest? You set him a huge task, and that task is accomplished."
Jack was still sulking. "Does he deserve more? I saved his life, gave him a title, and enhanced his magic. And I helped him find the Old Smoke, who he was looking for."
Palaimon disagreed. "But didn''t you do all that for you, Jack? Ozzy and Woodrat might have died a dozen times over, but they persevered and survived. They found a way to save themselves and to save others. I find that admirable." Aeto''le chimed in as well. "A god shouldn''t be ungrateful, Jack. Your reputation might suffer. Well, suffer more." She laughed at him, but not with her eyes.
Jack made one last attempt to squirm from their logic. "And what of the rest of you? You all gained from this. Shouldn''t you also bear part of the cost of the reward?" He was surprised when all of them nodded in agreement. Ozzy was asleep, Suzette sprawled across his chest on his first night home, when he heard the small fire in the hearth pop and crackle. Suzette woke as well, watching smoke pour out and forming four figures in the center of the room.
Jack smiled at him with pearly white teeth. "The gods of the Smoke are grateful for your aid. For my champion, I give the ability to Imbue Heat."
Aeto''le looked at the two of them. "Give greetings to my cousin when you next see her. May all of your creations have Sharp Teeth."
Palaimon spoke quietly. "For rescuing so many, you have my blessing. May you always find your way home."
Evergreen went last. She stood tall and spoke with a proud voice. "As the goddess of Nature, Light, Life, and Magic, I will let you select any spell, and its potency will greatly increase. Choose wisely, for the closer the spell is to my domain, the greater the gift."
Ozzy thought for a moment. He mainly had smoke and heat for spells, and the shark goddess seemed to be saying she would upgrade one of his spells. He had Cleanse, which should count as a light spell, shouldn''t it? Imbue Wood had to be nature, but it was only a cantrip.
"May I ask a question? Can the spell be a cantrip?" Evergreen seemed taken aback for a moment. She wasn''t used to mortals asking questions. Still, it was a fair query. The system that oversaw mortal magic did distinguish between ''Spell'' and ''Cantrip.'' The mortal was trying to make sure his request for a gift was correct.
"Yes, you may ask for an enhancement to a Cantrip. And such a small spell will certainly benefit more than a more powerful spell. What do you choose?"
Jack could see the Butcher was amused by something. The mortal looked at Evergreen and said. "I choose the Solar Arrow cantrip that Suzette knows. Enhance that for her, please."
Evergreen froze. Jack and Aeto''le laughed. "You did say any spell, dear. And you should know that any champion of mine will have a sharp mind."
Palaimon smiled benevolently. "And he''s simply being generous and helping others. I approve."
Evergreen nodded and vowed to phrase things better in the future. "Very well. Consider it done. You have our thanks, Captain Ozzy. We grant you the freedom of the Smoke." A giant sea chest appeared, made of polished wood. The gods of the Smoke vanished.
| Captain Ozzy has completed the quest given to him by the gods of the Smoke and has their thanks.
Jack Fyrebeard has granted you the Skill: Imbue Fire. He leaves it to you to learn its uses but reminds you that he enjoys flaming weapons.
Aeto''le had granted your creations of smoke additional damage as long as they have teeth. She thanks you for making such cute sharks.
Palaimon has given you his blessing. You now have the Perk: Find my way home. You will always have a general direction of where home lies.
In all her glory, Evergreen has enhanced the cantrip of the sorceress, Suzette, into a much more powerful Spell: Evergreen''s Shining Lance.
Captain Ozzy has earned 30 Enhancement Points.
Captain Ozzy has been granted the freedom to travel the Smoke. The gods ask that you let them know beforehand so they can brace for impact.
You are given a gift. It is up to you how you use it.
|
Suzette hugged him. "I forgive you for not asking. That was clever. I can''t wait to go into a dungeon with it. What do you have in the chest?"
Ozzy opened it carefully. Nothing appeared, and it seemed to be a regular chest. Inside was folded sailcloth; the sheets were thick, fluffy, and white. A small leather book was titled ''Basic principles of sailing and plans for a sloop of twenty-four feet in Length,'' and a double layer of shiny, auric ingots in the bottom of the chest.
Chapter 262: Urban Planning, Southern Style
Vernon Throckmorton stared at his mostly useless group of managers, searching their tanned and perfect faces for some hint of an idea about how to deal with the current situation. He saw nothing.
One of them was at least reading the briefing material he had dictated before the meeting. Ricardo was a new face at ACME. Nepotism at its finest. Someone that Ricardo was friends with knew Willy. Willy had hired him, and someone had tossed him to Vern. Vern couldn''t fire him, just pass him on to someone else. He decided to start with Ricardo. Better to have him fail here and get rid of him fast.
"You look like you have some good advice for me, Ricardo. Why don''t you brighten your Uncle Vern''s day by giving it to me."
Ricardo spent another minute reading the paper, turned it over, looking for more information, and set it down on the table and sighed when he didn''t find anything. The rest of the yes men around the table waited for his inevitable groveling and attempts to shift the blame.
"You''re screwed, Vern. Fething screwed. What the hell were you thinking?" Ricardo had the calm of someone who knew his days were numbered and figured he might as well say what he thought.
Vern stood up, and his face turned from white to purple, and it surprised everyone when he didn''t explode. "Such a firm statement. Let''s see if you can back it up with any facts."
Ricardo was also surprised. He''d heard Vern didn''t have much of a brain left, but the old man was at least willing to listen for 30 seconds. He shrugged and got to work. With several clicks on his laptop, four images appeared on the screen. All were of the lizardmen tribes that lived in the jungle surrounding New Vernon City. Formerly known as The Lost City of Mazqorat. "Mazqorat has more than two dozen tribes living in the jungles and villages around the city, but let''s focus on these four. The Kraxmiroxtli, or Krax for short, are eight-foot-tall warriors who have guarded the Black Pyramid for 107 generations. Those are the big blue guys in the upper left. Next, we have the little red guys next to them. The Pixatatilii are three-foot tall, fast, and use poisonous blowguns. They control seven villages near the city that supply poisons, drugs, and luxury items like pickled snails to the main city.
The gat blue guys with the big chins are the Grixmottllicans. They act as traders, advisors, and priests for most of the warring tribes. Lastly, we have the Croctilidans. They specialize in fast-moving cavalry riding raptors and aerial scouts on weird feathered bird things."
"We all keeping up? Krax are fighters. Pix are assassins. Grix are priests/merchants. Crocs are scouts and cavalry. These four tribes dominate the area and control the other four tribes. They also hate each other, are constantly at war for control of resources, and all want to be in charge of the city. You marched in with your mercenaries and outnumbered the Krax, so they joined your cause to conquer the other tribes. One by one, they all agreed to follow you. You had total control of the city, and then you fethed it all up."
Vern liked how the young man came up with easy-to-say nicknames for all the natives. He was always getting them messed up. "I like the names. Is that all you have?"
Ricardo smiled. If Vern gave him a stage, he''d have fun with it. "Just getting started. Let''s look at the city. Seems simple. Four large areas with the Black Pyramid in the middle. Under that is the older ruins, The Lost City. Again, split into four distinct quarters, each having an architecture that mirrors the tribes above. But it turns out there are little areas in the ruins corresponding to all the other tribes. Some only had a courtyard, others a few blocks. The ruins are big time important to the tribes. Who had what area was a matter of importance. Over and over, we see pictographs of the tribes marching along, always in a specific order. That''s the clue to how you screwed the pooch."
As if on cue, Lorrie spoke up. "Yes, we saw all of that. And since it was important to the tribes, we gave them what they wanted. Each of the four main tribes was given their part of the city and control over the ruins below the pyramid. Our mercenaries hold the Pyramid. The system works."
Ricardo rolled his eyes. "Works so well that 27% of your mercenaries die each week, constantly losing days while they recover from the debuff and slowly increasing PTSD. You keep looking for which tribe is responsible. The answer is all of them. This isn''t a loose assortment of tribes; it''s one big corporation, similar to ACME."
Everyone around the table looked at each other and started laughing. "You had us for a bit, Ricky." " Nice joke to pull on your way out the door." "I can''t believe I slept with that loser!"
Ricardo looked at Vern. Vern looked at the room. "Anyone whose name isn''t Ricardo can leave. You''re all fired. Get the hell down to HR, file a protest against me firing you, and see who can transfer to a new spot. Go on, get out!" He sent a message to his personal assistant. When everyone was gone, he sat down. "I ordered steaks and beer. Keep going. You were pointing out how all the tribes are in constant competition, and instead of directing their aggression at each other, as we would with low-level managers, we pointed them at us."
Ricky nodded. Vern caught on fast. "We need to put the Krax in charge. They are used to guarding the pyramid and keeping all the other tribes in line. Tell them they have been tested by the gods and passed. Then the Grix. They''re used to keeping the Krax happy so they can get most of the work done. They control religion and the economy. The crocs work as transportation with those huge wagons pulled by stegadons. The pix come last out of the top four but ahead of the rest."
"Krax for muscle and doing the grunt work. They only get the top slot because nature made them walking tanks. They''d be working as bodyguards and in the mailroom currently. The Grix are accounting and morale. They keep the machine running. The pix are the HR department. If anyone gets out of line, the Pix make them disappear. The Crocs are logistics and information. Give them a strict pecking order and a little competition, and they''ll get to work. Without order, they become a bunch of mid-level managers arguing over who gets to drive the car."
Vern was sketching out the new org chart. It made so much sense to think of things this way. "What else? I know you have some more tidbits for me."
Ricardo nodded but sat down to eat his steak. "What''s my new title?"
"Assistant Head of the Southern Region. As soon as I get more control and move up, you become Head of the Southern Region. Feel free to crush the other three people and take over all of it. But be careful with Billy. Billy is vicious when cornered and holds a grudge like no one I''ve ever known. The little bastard is getting cocky. He''s sending pictures of himself killing monsters. I don''t see the point. Only idiots waste time killing monsters and playing the stupid game."
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Ricardo took a long pull from his beer, collecting his thoughts. "Sure, Assistant Regional Head works for now."
"Let''s talk about dungeons. In the Lost City, you found two dungeons, one here and the other here." He pointed to two corners of the city. "I think we are missing two more dungeons. If you look at the pictographs in those quadrants, you see pictures of priests that look like the Grix tossing other tribes into a portal to the underworld, and in the Krax quadrant are pictures of a giant arena filled with warriors in an endless battle. Once we get things settled, we open up those two dungeons and get more revenue going from adventuring groups and guilds."
"Which is the next problem, transport to the city. This place is at the ass end of the world. A group has two ways to get here: Very expensive teleportation or a trek through the jungle. The Empire will keep charging us a premium to send people here. We need some sort of treaty with them. That goes back to having a stable city with some exports. But we can also cut a road through the jungle up to the tip of the Empire and make travel easier. We need to market it right. Four dungeons is a great reason to come down here and adventure."
Vern was thoughtful. "And a trade route and treaty might be a considerable amount of building points. We need those badly. I tried to get the board to force Billy to give me control of his, but it didn''t work."
Finishing his steak, Ricardo reached for another beer. "Willy mentioned that at the game. I wasn''t paying much attention that day. Something about wanting you guys in competition with each other and figuring things out yourselves. Seemed inefficient, to tell you the truth."
Vern slowly put down his beer. "Game? Just how well do you know Willy?"
Ricardo was on his fourth beer now, and a second steak had just appeared before him, brought up from the kitchens. ACME HQ had very good kitchens, at least on the executive level. "We''re just gaming buddies. I play in one of his Dungeons and Dragons groups. There are twelve groups that he rotates between. I play a fighter in group #7 and a thief in group #2. It pays well and has some nice perks. He bought us all pods when GENESIS came out. A bunch of us have been in Mazqorat doing quests and exploring the dungeons since we found it. When he offered us jobs at ACME, a couple of us took him up on it. This seemed like a good fit for me, for obvious reasons."
Vern was drumming his fingers and thinking when a message from the game was sent to him and everyone else in their division.
|
Corporate Announcement
William Kovacs of the ACME corporation, AKA Baron William of Gadobhra, AKA ''The Butcher Baron,'' has opened a trade route to the Demi-plane of Smoke and negotiated a trade agreement with a Lord of the Fae. ACME is the first corporation to open a trade route to another plane and the first corporation to sign a trade agreement with a Fae Realm.
ACME Corporation, Northern Division, under the control of William Horvacs, has gained 37,500 building points.
The Hamlet of Sedgewick, under the control of Mayor Suzette, the Lonely Barmaid, has gained 12,500 building points.
Captain Woodrat, Baron of Cingo, has increased his Aura by +1 and is acknowledged by the Queens as their representative to the Conjunction.
Alwyn, the Fae Lord of Summer, and his entourage will now be seated at a table only two removed from his Majesty, Oberon, at the next feast. He is encouraged to bring gifts. Red shiny gifts.
The Fae Realm of Alwyn, Lord of Summer, has been granted an increase. He may now claim a realm twice its former size.
|
Vern ground his teeth so hard he cracked a molar. Ricky whistled long and low. "How the hell did they get to the elemental planes? That''s awesome. My group would love to head there."
It was 4:30 a.m., and Samantha Duran was waking her husband, Steven. She had taken the precaution to have a 24 oz. mug of Morning Thunder tea on the table next to him. She had the drink programmed to appear within 30 seconds of hitting the button on her phone. Delaying whatever Wally needed him for was worth the 30 seconds. He needed something with caffeine in it to get him moving. Steven routinely worked until past 2 a.m. "Your lord and master calls. He seems in a good mood and needs you to meet with upset corporations.
Steven downed half the tea, kissed his wife, and stumbled into the meeting room wearing a robe and slippers. He knew Wally would alter his image to show him in business casual, looking shaved and alert. He saw that no less than seven of the large corporations were asking for immediate meetings. "My oh my. What the hell did you do to upset them, Wally?"
The AI appeared on the screen. "Why, I''ve done nothing, nothing at all. They are protesting that someone else is winning. Look at this notification from the system."
Steven read it twice. "How interesting. I''m guessing that our wandering Butcher made it home, and the ACME representative got right to work on setting up some trading agreements with whoever brought him home. The Fae part of this is intriguing. I hadn''t expected that to take off so soon. The system thinks it''s significant. That is a lot of building points just for the initial contract."
Wally nodded. "Indeed. They can do quite a bit with that. A lot is going on in the Northern part of the Empire. Several corporations and nobles have noticed and are allying against ACME. Gadobhra scares them. No one wants someone else to control it. I am curious to see if normal economic sanctions and political pressure will work against Baron Billy. They certainly haven''t worked against corporations in the real world for the last fifty years. Watching things unfold is becoming more and more fun."
Steven looked at the waiting executives and the blinking red lights on the screen. "How about dealing with that crowd? I''m not looking forward to it."
Wally grinned. "But I am. They were all given the same resources and told to build the world, improve trade, explore, and find the secrets of the world. Half of them are, and half don''t seem to know how. Guess which half we have to deal with today? And the really funny thing to me is that things are just getting started." The lights quit blinking, and the voices of the representatives of the largest corporations spilled into the room.
"Greetings, gentlemen. I can see you are all as excited about the opening of new trade routes as I am. How can I assist you today?"
Chapter 263: Accountants
With a small flash of light, several people appeared on the teleporter at Rowan Keep. They paused momentarily, looking around at the new construction and half-built walls. Four of the men were bodyguards. The other three were imperial bureaucrats. As they stepped aside, three scribes, one groom, and the first of ten horses appeared. The bureaucrats could be easily recognized by their more expensive clothing, shoes not made for walking outdoors, and perpetual scowls. They seemed to have the same look regardless of who they worked for. Falcar wondered if it was some uniform.
One turned and looked at the teleporter. "This is certainly insufficient for a fortress of the proposed size."
Captain Falcar was standing to the side of the teleportation stone. "Greetings, travelers. I am Captain Falcar of the Emperor''s Legion. May I be of assistance? This is a larger stone than the average for a rural Legion Keep. Normal stones are 10'' to a side and hold 10,000 mana. We are blessed with a 15'' stone that can hold 100,000 mana, and we keep it fully charged to provide quick travel to and from Rowan Keep."
The man who had spoken snorted slightly and walked to the smiling captain. "Thank you for telling me things I am an expert in, Captain. I am Theordis Thancton, accountant for the Office of Accounting of the Emperor''s Legion. I and my associates are making a surprise inspection to observe of the ongoing construction. I am amazed you can accomplish so much with such a small teleporter. Are you sourcing some of your materials locally?"
Falcar made a small eye movement that told a lurking soldier to report to the centurion before smiling again at the Imperial bean counter. "Baron William is paying for all of the materials and the improvements'' cost. He has chosen to source the materials locally since he owns all of the local materials."
Theordis snorted. He had friends and family in the construction business. He hated local sources of materials. If he had his way, the Legion would never use them. "We will need to replace this teleporter with at least a twenty-foot stone, if not twenty-five. With less, a garrison big enough to fill this can''t be shifted as needed."
Falcar''s bland smile became a thin line. Every person in the bureaucracy felt they were an expert on how the Legion should be run. He was happy to see his Centurion arrive.
"Luckily, travel has been very minimal lately. And our supply of mana is very good. We can shift men and horses as fast as every ten seconds if the stone on the other end can keep up. Good to meet you; I am Marcus, the commanding Centurion of Rowan Keep. I am also surprised to see you. Shouldn''t a notice have been sent so I could provide you with proper lodging and transportation and prepare the documents you needed to see?"
Theordis brushed a bit of dust from the shoulder of his black velvet jacket. "The dust here must be just terrible. No need for documents today. I am here to find the flaws in construction that invariably appear as local contractors try to skimp on supplying the Legion with their best services. My colleagues are here to talk to the Baron about his taxes and his requirements for imperial storehouses. Just ignore us, and we''ll all get along fine. I''m sure you understand."
Marcus bowed. "As you wish." He turned and walked back the way he had come. "Captain? Please instruct the men to ignore these people and let them go about poking into things."
The functionaries moved about the Keep, followed by scribes, bodyguards, and horses. A man holding a pallet of building stone was blocked by their path. Startled, Theordis stared at the man waiting patiently for them to move by. His mind did the calculation as his eyes kept staring. That was at least a cubic yard of stone bricks. At 150 pounds per cubic foot, the man was lifting two tons. "Dear heavens. How are you lifting that heavy load." There was scattered laughter from nearby. Theordis was wracking his brain to puzzle out the man''s class. He must have at least a STR of 20, several levels of Haul, and be under the effects of a potion. Or possibly an Earth Mage with a spell to move rock?
The man sighed slightly. "You pick it up in one place and put it down in another. Although, I think it gets harder to do the longer you have to sit and talk with someone about how to move rocks. Maybe you and the circus to move past so I can deliver this load?"
Theordis was taken aback at being talked to in such a tone of voice by a common laborer and was about to say something when Manfred and Geoffrey took him by the arms and started walking again. "Best to move out of the man''s way lest he drops it on you." The worker nodded his thanks to them, waited for the last horse to get out of his way, and resumed his journey to deliver the load of bricks. Manfred, the most practical of the three, had come from humble beginnings than Theordis and had more respect for artisans at work. And he was seeing a lot of them today, many lifting heavy loads of materials. He moved their entourage out of one of the gates and to a grassy area outside to where a line of merchant tents was set up. "Here, this is much nicer. Near some food and away from the dust. The horses can graze on the grass, and we can look around before heading to see the Baron".
Down the hill, perhaps ten miles away, was a little village that, according to the Imperial Census, was little more than a few houses and half a dozen merchants. It barely counted as a hamlet. Beyond it, they saw the imposing bulk of the City of Gadobhra, broken towers sticking up like the teeth of some horrid creature. Theordis was still upset at being spoken to that way but took a deep breath and continued his work. "I need to see how much they have skimped on the depth of foundations and the thickness of the walls and how cheap the stone is. That will do for today, and then we can go have words with the local Baron." From the cross-section that Manfred could see, the walls looked quite thick. But he was a taxman, not a construction accountant. Each had their specialties for pulling money out of the local nobility.
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Theordis took one bodyguard and one scribe with a measuring tape. They wandered the length of the wall until they found a ramp down. He talked as he went, and the scribe nodded in time to his words. "It''s always the parts you can''t see that they skimp on. Walls this big should have a depth of at least fourteen feet. I doubt that these have even twelve!" Measuring showed that from the edge of the surface to the hard-packed gravel was exactly twelve feet. "Ha, just as I expected. They''ll have to dig this up and extend it down two more feet, plus another two feet for good measure!"
"By ''they,'' I''m assuming you mean me." Theordis turned to where a large muscled man was standing nearby. He had close-cropped hair and was clean-shaven in the style of the legion. He wore sturdy boots, leather pants, a carpenter''s apron, and a bright red shirt. Goggles of some type were pushed up on his forehead. A bevy of carpenters squares, plumb bobs, and other surveying tools hung from his belt and apron. He extended a gloved hand. "Jorges. I''m in charge of this project. What the hell are you talking about? We aren''t digging up anything."
Theordis ignored the hand and struggled to stand as tall as he could, but the man addressing him was at least half a foot past six feet. "You will extend the foundations of these walls down to sixteen feet, or they will not be approved, which will play badly with your Baron. And don''t play ignorant of Imperial Building codes."
Jorges smiled. "Never. Not by an inch. Follow me, and You may need a longer tape measure." They followed him along the level ground of the foundation and came to a wooden ramp going down. "We go down a lot further than sixteen feet. That''s crap for walls this big. You need to be on bedrock and packed stone. We dug to the hard stone and either cut down to where we needed to be or dug out the dirt and filled it with hard-packed gravel. A fortress stands or falls on its foundations, and none of mine are going to fall over."
The scribe looked at his tape measure and the walls. "Sir, to what depth is the lowest part?" Jorges showed him how to read the markings on the walls. "We started with a perfectly level base and a depth of thirty feet. Stone base, then a ten-foot high wall section, filled with large stones weighing a ton or two with gravel in the crevices. Then cap it with a two-foot thick layer of stone and start the next ten feet of wall. It''s all interlocking pieces that aren''t moving, and I pity the person that tries to dig through or under. Once we have the foundations perfect, the aboveground walls go up and won''t move for a thousand years."
Theordis was trying not to be impressed by the construction but couldn''t resist saying. "Unless the enemy has a capable Earth Mage who is better than what you have in the fortress to stop him. Any fortress can be destroyed by magic. That''s why you need a good contingent of the Legion, competent mages, and a large enough teleport stone to handle the job."
Jorges said nothing but beckoned the three to follow him. They went down to the thirty-foot level and along to a section of stone just being laid. Two people were concentrating on their work, carving runes into the stone. Nearby was an alchemist tending a vat of molten silver, and an artist sketched runes in colored pencil ahead of the two rune carvers. The stone they were working on was perfectly white marble. The stone of the walls at this level was a dark grey with small silver flecks. The scribe made a note of the tier 2 materials and pointed them out to his superior. Theordis needed to know where they were getting this stone. Tier 2 materials were generally only mined from a hundred or more feet into the earth.
Jorges pointed to the runes. "If someone brings an Earth Mage to tear down my walls, they better be tough enough to handle a God."
"An invocation? Are you putting an invocation on the entire fortress walls? That''s madness. Make an altar to Ares and give him a dozen bullocks in sacrifice each month! "
A smile appeared on Jorges''s face, showing his amusement. "Mars has his good points, but I want protection for my walls. Nothing is better than Hermes for that."
Theordis rolled his eyes. "Madness and a waste of time, and it makes a mockery of Ares. All Legion fortresses are dedicated to the God of War. No, this won''t do. You can''t waste all this time and money venerating some lesser god of shopkeepers and flower delivery." Around him, all sound died down. The two rune crafters stood up.
The first brushed the dust from his uniform and settled a fancy hat on his head. His uniform looked remarkably like that of an Imperial Courier. "Now, now. No need to be so ignorant about things. I''m sure it''s just poor upbringing that prevents you from seeing just how cool Hermes is. He gets a lot of respect around here. He''s a god who listens to shepherds, shopkeepers, and cunning pranksters. Also, messengers, which I''m sure includes the Emperor''s Couriers, of which I happen to be one. When you consider that commerce and money keep the empire moving, you might re-think the importance of a God of Shopkeepers."
The other person stood, a young woman with striking good looks and flashing eyes. She glared at the intruders angrily. No dust or dirt clung to the long white gown she wore. On her neck, she wore a symbol of Hermes. "And I''ll be happy to help with your re-education if I ever have the opportunity. Your words are rude and will be remembered." She gave them a look that sent a shiver down the imperial functionaries'' spines. They turned and left hurriedly.
Later that day, one of the Legionnaires came down to pass a small bag with two silver pieces in it to Suzette. "Sorry to bother you, ma''am, but a very worried scribe and soldier asked me to give this to you in the hopes that you''d make an offering from them to Lord Hermes. They don''t want you to have a bad impression of them, despite who they work for."
She smiled at the thought, "Thank them for me, please. And tell them to spend the silver at the local tavern to encourage commerce. That will please Hermes."
Chapter 264: Spare the shovel, and spoil the hell pit.
The party of imperial accountants and their entourage left Rowan Keep, Theordis stating he had finished for the day and would do the rest on their return trip. He was quite shaken by something. When Manfred and Geoffrey heard the story being passed around by the guards, they chuckled. Theordis saw things one way and would rather try to change the course of a river than admit he built the bridge in the wrong place. His main expertise was in overlooking the work done on roads, Legion outposts, and other infrastructure. His opinion was that everyone cheated and did subpar work. This was reinforced by actually proving that 53% of the time, he was correct. When he couldn''t find a problem with a project, he assumed they were better at hiding things than he was at finding them.
Geoffrey dealt with the movement of goods from one place to another within the empire. An excess of wheat was moved to where people had no bread. The breadless paid for it in wood or coal, which he moved where that needed to be. The empire kept a system of credits and debits for each area, and a local baron or village Mayor could draw on Imperial storehouses in times of need and pay back their debt later. With interest, of course. There were complaints that the credits were never equal to the market value of the goods, and the prices were on the higher side. The imperial accountants waved aside all complaints. Storage and transportation had to be paid for, especially the mana used if the goods had to be sent by teleportation.
The system had worked for hundreds of years, with those in charge of the system and those controlling production making large sums of money. Some of which fell into the pockets of local functionaries. Theirs was a hard job; if no one appreciated them, they could at least live well. Or so they said to themselves. Sedgewick and Gadobhra were exciting projects for Geoffrey. Until two years ago, no one at all cared about the little village at the end of nowhere. Gadobhra was a forgotten ruin. Even the reason for Rowan Keep was largely forgotten. The main Legion presence was in Northguard; even that small army had hardly seen use in generations. The empire hadn''t needed a storehouse in Sedgewick, where there wasn''t even a local mayor and nothing to buy but groats.
That had changed, and the empire was here to do business in their usual efficient manner. The Legion had been buying dozens of barrels of smoked meat from the Baron each week. Someone had noticed that a portion of those barrels were high quality in both taste and the number of bonuses the meat gave. An imperial storehouse that could buy the excess meat was needed. It could be sold all over the empire.
He''d also heard whispers that the Baron had a man capable of producing weaponized bacon. The Corp of War-Mages had made a specific request to acquire either the man producing the bacon, his recipe, a large stockpile of the food, or all three. He had a small bag of gold to offer the man if he couldn''t induce the Baron to sell him his chef. If that failed, he might need two guards to encourage him to take a trip to the capital.
Sedgewick also produced excellent beer, ale, and surprisingly good apple wine that was heavy with enchantments. Barrels of each were appearing in the taverns that served a swill called Bludgeon Beer. Geoffrey suspected a connection but had yet to find it. Any idiot could brew Bludgeon Beer. The corporation was located in a town near the capital. All they did was buy inferior-quality materials, repackage the ingredients, and ship the packages to cheap taverns all across the empire. By contrast, the beer and wine from Sedgewick was crafted with care, and the taste reflected it.
The last item was the war machines. There were several of them at Rowan Keep, their bases secured with long bolts set into the stone. A prior acquisition of such devices by the Legion at Northguard had infuriated both the Commander at Rowan Keep and the device''s creator. Now, as each machine was delivered, work was done to prevent future ''borrowing.'' They were delivered as a wall section or tower was finished and immediately bolted into place. Centurion Marcus had been adamant about that when dealing with his superiors over the affair. Geoffrey did see the man''s point. It was hard to get a job done when your allies borrowed your building materials. The office of Acquisition wished to obtain more of those machines but didn''t want to pay the Baron in gold. Keeping the Baron Gadobhra broke was a goal for quite a few people. An ambitious noble with money and resource could cause problems.
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Geoffrey needed to look over both the village and the city with an eye for setting up official storehouses and determining quotas for how much each would supply the empire. In return, he would ensure that the surplus held elsewhere was shipped to them. The current state of affairs made striking a deal even easier. Teleporting goods was expensive with the additional tariffs imposed. Tariffs that the Office of Trade wouldn''t be charged.
The most significant task he had been charged with was gaining information on the new and mysterious trade routes. Informants had reported that the corporations leasing land from the empire were horrified and angry about a recent system announcement sent to only managers of corporations. It seemed that a trade agreement with a fae realm had been negotiated. This had only been done three times in the last two hundred years. Trading with one or more Fae lords could make a merchant very rich, assuming you had what they needed.
Yet that paled in comparison to the news of a trade route to the demi-plane of Smoke. No trading had been done with the outer planes in recent history, and only a few wizards were thought to have the ability to visit. Baron William was involved in the journey taken by two brave captains that had resulted in a trip to the Smoke. Sightings of their ship had been reported from many places. The path led to Gadobhra. And since Geoffrey was already heading this way, it was added to his chores.
Validating the story turned out to be easy. Floating off to one side of Sedgewick was the ship. Sails and hull gleamed as she hung in the air. A lot of activity was occurring around it, and cargo was being loaded. Some of it was from the local area, but there were also beautifully painted boxes and large amphorae of silvery glass that had come from the fae. Those were under guard by a giant and three of the crew. They were sitting on the mundane crates drinking something alcoholic and laughing. He told the others to stop for a moment while he investigated.
An old man looked up in alarm as he skirted a tall building. "Hold up, you damned idiot! Can''t you see the signs?!" Geoffrey had ignored the signs in his haste to see the ship. ''Beware of Pit! Stay Back!'' The old man was running at him, a shovel held high. Geoffrey cringed, preparing to be hit, and was relieved when the old man instead slammed the shovel into a silver chain at his feet. "No! You don''t! You''ve been fed thirteen tons of sedge beast today. Soft, fat humans are bad for you." The relief left when he saw the moving chain had been wrapping around his ankle. The accountant scrambled away, and the chain retreated, slamming a door. The old man turned to him.
"Sorry about that, fellah. It''s still misbehaving. The boy coddles it too much, thinking it will be good if he keeps it busy. Spare the shovel, and spoil the hell pit. That''s what I was taught."
Geoffrey stood up, recovering his nerve. "I must agree. Sound advice. Now, could you explain what that hellish building is?" The large square building was four stories tall, with several chimneys and belching smoke pipes jutting from the sides. Stonework made up the bottom ten feet, and the construction was of heavy timbers after that. The peaked roof of red tile softened the look. A rich scent of smoked and burnt meat came from the house. Even as he asked the question, it seemed apparent that this building was tied to meat and bacon production.
The old man spit his tobacco to the side. "It''s a Charnel Pit. Our Butcher uses it to concoct all of his smoked meat. A handy thing to have around, but it has a mind of its own. Most folks know to stay away from it or can read the signs. Those that don''t can end up inside, hanging from a chain. Pay attention next time. No place for tourists."
"So I see. And the ship? Is that the one that flies to the planes? Can I speak to the Captain and get a tour? I would like to conduct some official business."
The old man laughed. "Yeah, you and everyone else, I bet. I''ll tell you the same thing I told that Fae Hellwitch. "Go talk to the Baron, and stay away from the ship. I''ll emphasize that for someone who was enough of a darn fool to get close to a charnel pit: Stay away from the ship, off limits. The crew is a bit touchy about it. Two merchants who got too curious are having their legs splinted as we speak."
Geoffrey thanked him for his time and retreated. He had learned a little. No sense in risking broken bones. He would talk to the Baron. Barons were always more reasonable than Butchers and Sea Captains. All the pieces were here. He simply needed to convince all of the various parties that they would be better off doing business with the Office of Acquisitions and letting him handle the fine details.
Chapter 265: Business Lunch
As Geoffrey returned from looking at the flying ship, Manfred noticed his pace was quick, and his brow furrowed. "Let me guess, you saw something interesting and are trying to figure out how to make money off it?"
Geoffrey looked up; that had indeed been a close guess. "Manfred, my old friend, you have a good sense of what an item is worth owing to your high level of Identification. Would you do me the favor of telling me something about that building?" He pointed to a large building with several chimneys. Manfred obliged him, walking toward it until he saw the signs. He stopped, stared at it, and slowly backed away, treating it like a dangerous animal you couldn''t turn your back on. Regaining the group''s safety and with two guards between him and the building, he let out the breath he was holding.
He screamed at Geoffrey, "You could have warned me!"
Geoffrey tried to look innocent. "But I wanted your honest opinion without my input."
Manfred stifled several retorts and then answered the original question. "It''s a Hellpit! A literal Hellpit. The work of a Charnel Demon and capable of holding a man for torture and using his soul as fuel. And it...ah...well, it also appears to be curing hams." He took another glance at it. "And frighteningly, it''s a Tier 4 Hellpit. How does a Town barely into the second Tier acquire such a thing? Is it inhabited? And what sort of demon could the town be harboring? I''m not sure how to even tax it!"
Theordis was astonished to hear such a statement from Manfred. "How could it not be listed in the tax code?"
Manfred had regained most of his composure. "Because you find them in dungeons, towns burned to ashes and some of the stranger arcane colleges. We already tax dungeons, ruined towns have no one left to tax, and the colleges turn tax collectors into squirrels."
"Well, this little trip is looking more and more profitable. Old Cogsworthy owed me a favor this year, and I used it to take my pick of assignments. I''m happy the two of you were available to come with me." In a place as large as the empire, with thousands of tax agents going about their work using an antiquated system purposefully made to be obtuse and complicated, it was up to each agent or team to do their best to increase the imperial coffers. An increase in taxes from an area was rewarded by no one noticing how the agents lined their own pockets. Corruption started with the nobility and worked its way down society''s pyramid. At the bottom were the serfs, peasants, and workers who didn''t have any money or power. This was a typical trip by a group of agents. Each had a specialty, but it was safer to travel together and work over a local noble or mayor as a team.
Most trips were boring and barely profitable. This one was more of a fishing trip. Out-of-the-way villages often have ways to make money that aren''t tied up yet, if you knew where to look.
Theordis had been encouraged by several people he had never met before (and a small bag of gold coins) to bring a team to Sedgewick and cause as much trouble as he could for the local Baron. The man had some enemies or rivals. As long as nothing he did broke the law, he and his team could claim "we were just doing our jobs." He had neglected to tell the others about his new friends, although he was sure Manfred suspected. He certainly hadn''t mentioned the gold.
As they talked, a door opened, and smoke billowed out. A large man in a dark red leather apron emerged, holding a massive ham over each shoulder. The meat had been soaked in honey and salt, cured for a month in the smoke, and the hams were now wrapped in burlap. They could smell them, though, and their mouth''s watered. The Butcher walked towards them, smiled, and nodded his head to them to show his respect. "Howdy folks, nice day. You''ll have to excuse me. I have to take these hams over to the tavern and the inn. People have been asking for ham with their breakfasts, and I hate to keep hungry people waiting."
Geoffrey was trying to guess the weight of the hams. "A moment, my good man. Do you know the weight of those hams? They seem quite large."
The Butcher put one ham in each outstretched hand and thought hard as if he was weighing them. "I''d guess this one on the left is a smidgeon bigger and about 53 pounds. The other one is only 52 and a half pounds. About the average weight of a cured pork leg these days. They grow big in Gadobhra." He smiled at them, showing even white teeth and a mischievous grin. "Don''t worry. You don''t have to eat it all in one sitting. They''ll happily carve a good slice off for you for dinner." He winked and walked off down the road, whistling.
Manfred waited for him to move out of earshot. "And that, my friends, is the local butcher. He''s in the third tier and likes to make sausage. He has a little shop in the village where he employs a poor, disabled orphan. He delivers meat daily all over town, secretly loves the local barmaid, and doesn''t have a mean bone in his body."
Theordis was impressed. "My, you are getting good at that. I could only tell he was the friendly local butcher and well-liked in the village."
Manfred smiled, proud of his ability. "It gets easier as your level increases. Most of the information just jumped out at me. But that''s what things are like in small villages. Not many secrets." He turned and looked once more at the smoking building. "But I can tell one more thing about him: That building is under his control. He''s probably the only reason it isn''t a rampaging horror."
Geoffrey looked at the Butcher as he walked down the road. "He does seem rather strong. Third Tier, you say?"
Manfred smiled happily. "Aye, at Level 12. Surprising that he is so strong, as he wasted some points on charisma and that smile. Probably to impress the girl who ignores him. I think the smiling man walking ahead of us is why the meat packers guild is upset with the Baron. He seems competent, but how much will the Baron pay to keep him around? He will cost Baron William the sum of 400 gold coins in taxes. It would be a shame if the Baron can''t afford to keep him."
They made their way further into Sedgewick. It was a small town but in good repair. The buildings were in the classic Gothic Imperial style, seen in some of the oldest neighborhoods in the capital. The streets were of large paving stones with mortar in the tight cracks, and water drained into sewer grates at regular intervals. The buildings were tall, all at least three stories, and predominantly of stone with timbered upper levels and steeply pitched slate roofs. A small stream ran along the western edge of the town. A sawmill and flour mill sat on opposite sides of the stream with turning wheels. The smoking horror was one of the first buildings you could encounter past the small, arched bridge if you followed the stream and then went to the back corner of the town.
The center of the town was a stone-paved town square with a small fountain at one end. Trees decorated with tiny, delicate lights surrounded the town square, and the road split and went around it both ways and around the outside of the town. Small, narrow shops made for a fine shopping district. A larger mercantile store and a butcher shop were at the far end, and sandwiched between the two was a large tent from where the smell of grilled food was coming. So small as to barely be noticed was a narrow three-story building with a clock tower. The tent drew the group''s attention. The smell of grilled meat and onions drew them in. The tent proved to be an eating area with tables. Behind it was a small building, the front of which was open, and a kobold chef was grilling up lunch. After agreeing that there was undoubtedly a way to charge lunch to the Office of Acquisitions, they sat down for a large meal. After a tiny bite, the men-at-arms ran to the tavern and purchased large tankards of ale for themselves and a pitcher of milk for the accountants and scribes. They returned to see the others drinking from the fountain to cool off their abused tongues. The soft sound of a kobold laughing came from the grill. She had warned them her food was spicy.
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As the clock struck noon, a gnome exited the small building, locked the door with a copper key, and came to the tent for lunch. Placing a silver coin on his table, the kobold soon appeared with a large plate of food. The fumes from the food stung Manfred''s eyes as the kobold went by with the platter, but the gnome seemed unbothered by the spicy food. Curious, Manfred stepped to where he could see the small sign on the building next door. ''Royal Gnomish Bank of Sedgewick'' read the sign, and Manfred began coughing hard. He staggered back to their tables, snatched a flagon of ale, and drank it down.
Geoffrey snorted and laughed at him. "You really can''t handle a little pepper in your food, can you?"
Manfred glared at him. "They have a bank! That little building is a gnomish bank!"
"How the hell do they have a bank?" The other two accountants were equally confused.
Hearing talk of his business, the gnome addressed them. "It''s really no mystery. The town required a bank, and I required a town. Things are working out nicely. Now if you excuse me, I must get back to work." He put a copper down for a tip next to his empty platter and walked back to his bank. The copper key opened the door, and he flipped a small sign over to let people know he was open.
Manfred''s antics amused Geoffrey. "I admit that this is one of the last places I expected to find a Bank, but I fail to see the reason for theatrics. They make doing business much easier. When I set up an Imperial Storehouse here, it will make things much easier and more secure, doubly so if they ever grow their horde to enable transactions at Rowan Keep."
Theordis saw it differently. Geoffrey wasn''t privy to some of the information he had. Easier banking and selling of goods was the last thing certain people wanted the Baron of Gadobhra to have. "There is a difference between a bank and a bank run by a gnome and claiming a connection with the gnomish banking system. Many gnomes work in imperial banks. Their race is known for their bankers and lawyers, among other professions. Having an actual Royal Bank here means more money is passing through the town than anyone in the accounting office suspected. One has to wonder what the Baron has done to earn something like this. Many other nobles have asked for such banks and have been turned down. It''s suspicious."
Manfred agreed. "Baron Oakhurst has beseeched the Gnome King three times for a bank and never been approved. But an important detail: This isn''t the Bank of Gadobhra. It''s clearly stated as '' The Royal Gnomish Bank of Sedgewick.'' That puts it under the control of the town''s mayor, not the Baron. He''s made an error in placing it here, gentlemen, rather than in his ruined city. It will be more useful here, for now, but he doesn''t have direct control. We should visit the mayor before speaking to the Baron about the new tax on Contract Workers. I''ve yet to meet a mayor that didn''t mind a little extra gold coming their way."
As the group went to find the Mayor of Sedgewick, the proprietor of the eatery closed the window of her business and closed for the afternoon. She wasn''t sure about some of the things the men had been talking about, but it sounded like business, and her friend Kallvek was always interested in what she overheard about business.
Most of the crew of the Splinter was finding the Conjunction a bit on the chilly side. The men wore long seamen''s coats and hats over their work clothes. The one place all of them felt very comfortable was the big building where Ozzy smoked his meat. A smoky environment with chains and fire felt like home. The Charnel pit didn''t bother with them. They were walking meat that was already smoked, as far as it was concerned.
Joe was amused at the whole thing, but Makken was annoyed. The party had mainly moved indoors, and he had to sit carefully by the doorway. He was also a little sad about the effect his last batch of strawberry surprise had on the crew. Each had taken a shot of the fermented chili juice and liked it. He wasn''t used to people describing his drink as "smooth," "fruity," and "tasty." Still, they offered to pay good gold for every bottle he could make. But he was wracking his brains for how he could make things hotter for days. The answer turned out to be four tablespoons of gunpowder in each bottle. It didn''t taste hotter to him, but when Captain Woodrat drank a shot, his eyes widened, his face turned red, and he belched smoke like an old cannon. He beat on his chest and then leaned back, fanning himself. The rest of the crew immediately lined up for shots.
A day later, one of the blacksmiths came to talk to him. Ozzy had mentioned the problem of keeping the ship''s hull heated in the Conjunction. Rufus had some ideas.
"For starters, if your ship runs on smoke and heat, we should park it above this belching monstrosity. It''s constantly putting out heated air and smoke. We can fix the problem of loading and unloading cargo with a timber framework on the side of the building and a cargo platform with a block and tackle. There will always be enough strong people around to raise and lower it. I''ll put anchor points on each corner of the building for you to run chains to, and you''ll have a secure mooring for your ship every time you come into port."
Woodrat liked the idea. "Maybe put a hatch up top. Be fun to jump down into the building and swing down by the chains." Rufus added a hatch to his drawings but added ''crazy'' to his notes about the captain from the Smoke.
"My other idea is a small stove that can transfer heat directly to your ship''s hull. I''ll insulate around it so the ship''s wood won''t catch fire, and then you can burn wood or coal to generate heat while you''re here."
The crew smiled and laughed at the notion. Woodrat shook his head. "Sorry to tell you, mate, but that''s not how things work. I''m not sure what coal is, but wood doesn''t burn. That''s just silly. Wood floats."
Rufus said nothing but walked to a tree, pulled off a branch, and lit it on fire with a cantrip. He used the burning branch to start a larger fire with sticks of wood. Woodrat looked on, amazed. Then he took a piece of burning wood and held it. The wood quit burning and turned black and shiny. "Try burning this." Rufus tried, but nothing he could do would get the wood to catch fire again. Understanding came to him. "All the wood in the Smoke is infused with smoke. It doesn''t catch fire." Woodrat was looking at the piles of oak that would be loaded in the Splinter. "Virgin wood, untouched. I wonder what the Nobles on the islands would pay for that? Chairs from the Conjunction may be the next rage. Now tell me more about your idea, Rufus, and show me what coal is?"
Chapter 266: Lair of the Ice Wizard
Finding the Mayor of Sedgewick proved difficult. A helpful young woman hauling a large wagon of barrels directed them to a building she said was the Mayor''s office. Geoffrey made a note of the contents of the wagon. The 130-gallon butts of apple wine each had the words ''Apple Kick-Ass'' stenciled in yellow, with a painted picture of a bright, smiling sun. Underneath the sun was a line of smaller script, ''Product of the Barony of Gadobhra.''
Like other people working in the town, the woman seemed unnaturally strong. She didn''t seem to have any trouble moving a wagon that should have had a team of four mules pulling it. Manfred was trying to get her information without being obvious. "She''s a Lumberjill, level 9. Each of those barrels weighs a half-ton." The woman pulled the wagon up to a storehouse and began lifting the barrels off the wagon and walking them into the stone building, calling down to someone.
"You''ve got six butts of apple-kickass coming in, Jeb. I''m putting them on the first floor. Mark off two more going up to Gadobhra for the festivities tonight." Someone yelled back to her. Satisfied, she turned the wagon around and began trotting up toward the city.
Geoffrey was trying to calculate her strength. "If she were a normal peasant, I would say she had a STR score of at least 25 or a specialty in hauling heavy loads, such as a teamster. I''m unaware of any such skill available to the Lumberjill class. At level 9, even if she was cutting trees non-stop for months, she could only achieve a maximum STR of 20. An absurd amount of work."
Theordis looked at Geoffrey and grinned. He liked having more information than his fellow agents. "Didn''t your department get the briefing on these ''Contract Workers''? The corporations have somehow found a class to give all their peasants special advantages and disadvantages. They all get the Haul skill and increased STR and stamina in trade for giving up weapon and armor skills. Even the lowest peasant or farmer can use a club or a dagger, but not a contract worker. It''s very ingenious when you think about it. It saves money on horses and limits the ability of the workers to rebel against their overlord."
Geoffrey had a thought. "We need to let the Teamsters Guild know all the details. What if the Baron starts using his workers to haul goods to market? That infringes on their guild''s charter."
Theordis snorted. "Good luck traveling over the road going south until the Guild of Roadbuilders can ''get time'' for the project. But I think that''s a worthy idea. The mere thought of the Baron taking money from the hands of the hard-working wagon drivers should get them upset with him. For now, though, we need to do a little investigating, find the mayor, and ask some questions.
Manfred paused, thoughtful. "We need to check how goods are taken to Rowan Keep. There might even be a case to be made for the ten-mile delivery counting as a violation of the Teamsters Guild''s charter."
The door to the storehouse was left open. Geoffrey motioned for most of the party to stay where they were while Manfred and Theordis accompanied him for a quick look. The one room stone building was filled to the roof with foodstuffs. Bushels of eggs sat on one long shelf. Hundreds of jars of exotic pickled snails filled half of the room. Bags of flour from Wolfsburg were stacked in a corner. Barrels of apples, acorns, ironwood nuts, and cornmeal filled every available space with the butts of wine recently delivered, taking up the little space in the center, next to a stairway down. The three taxmen descended. The next room was cold, unnaturally so. Everywhere they looked was meat. Stacks of pork bellies, steaks, wings from huge birds, and hams. So many hams. There were tons of meat piled everywhere, waiting to be cured. Geoffrey was making notes and wishing he had brought a scribe. Another stairway went down.
Manfred looked at it. "Is this some sort of insane village dungeon?"
Geoffrey shook his head. "Worse, it''s a magical storehouse. An official storehouse bought with city building points! The goods in here will keep for years. In a merchant''s war, this is the armory. A city with ample storehouses to keep goods fresh can buy when the price is low, wait for an emergency when there is a shortage of goods, and make ten times the normal profit. This type of storage is the backbone of the imperial system. But such things are expensive! They take building points earned by the local lord for extraordinary service to the empire or events of a peculiar nature."
"Well, this is a peculiar town. The baron must be gaining points for discovering dungeons in Gadobhra but spending them to improve his little village." Theordis narrowed his eyes. "Or, he might be storing up supplies for a real war. I''m sure the two of you have heard about some of the problems with the orc tribes. If the Legion mobilizes in the next year or two, food prices will increase drastically. I''m sure the good Baron will neglect to sell his hoard of foodstuffs to the Legion and instead try to smuggle them onto the black market." He grinned. It was certainly what he himself would do. "All the more reason to restrict trade to this cursed Barony and limit his teleportation options. Let us see what is on the third level, gentlemen."
The third level revealed a huge room that did have the look of a dungeon. The ceiling was twelve feet high, and the emperor and his court could have held their annual badminton tournament in it. Hundreds of barrels of beer were stacked in row after row, each labeled ''Bludgeon Extra Dark'' and in smaller letters ''Produced in Sedgewick for Bludgeon Brew Incorporated. Product of the Barony of Gadobhra.'' They could see openings to a hallway at the far end and another staircase leading both upward and down. Further exploration was halted by the appearance of a man wearing the blue and white robes and pointed hat of a wizard, holding a crystal-tipped wand. His eyebrows and beard were shockingly white and bushy, and his clear blue eyes glared at them.
"Who dares enter the lair of Delbert the Frost Wizard?!!" He walked towards them, pulling out a clipboard. "No shipments are going out today, and your body heat is disturbing my carefully controlled temperature!"
Geoffrey started heading back up the stairs; Manfred held up his hands and began to appease the angry wizard, using the simple excuse of ''Sorry, we were sightseeing.'' But he didn''t get that far. Theordis had a bad habit of taking offense and escalating situations, sure of his authority as an imperial tax agent. He bellowed at the man, "I am a servant of the emperor and will go where I choose. I demand answers. Explain where this alcohol is going and how it gets there! Furthermore, I will be bringing in my scribes to note down each and every bundle of contraband and stolen goods you are hiding in this place. Cooperate, and you might get off with a warning and a small whistleblowers reward."
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
The wizard paused and stared at them. "Tax people? That''s the worst type of vermin. Worse than thieving ratkin after my cheese. But I know how to deal with you!"
"By the Hoary Hosts of Hoggoth, I cast the mighty mystical spell Banishment of Vermin! Begone!
All three invaders began to feel a chill in their bones and panic in their hearts. Not knowing what else would happen, they fled to the surface along with two mice, seven squirrels, and a fledgling colony of roaches. The effects seemed to vanish as they left the storehouse. The mighty Frost Wizard followed and slammed the door after putting a note on the front that said, ''Closed. Knock for deliveries.''
Theordis and Manfred were shaken and shivering at the close call. Geoffrey declined to mention that the spell used was a cantrip commonly taught to students of Ice magic. It was a handy spell since the student dormitories were old and infested with mice and roaches. Most storehouse keepers spent the five gold pieces to learn it themselves.
Theordis got his breathing under control. Sprinting up two flights of stairs was more exercise than he got most weeks. After a few minutes, they resumed their quest to find the Mayor of Sedgewick.
Geoffrey was worried. "If they are employing the services of a trained frost wizard, then they have a much larger system of storehouses than what we just saw. Such wizards do not work cheaply."
Unfortunately, the Mayor was not in the Town Hall. In fact, no one was in the Town Hall, and the doors were locked tight. There was a sign. ''Closed. Try the Tavern.''
"Well, gentlemen, I think it''s time for lunch." The entourage headed for the tavern to speak with the local mayor and find an agreeable price for his agreement to a few bits of business.
Earlier that day...
Ozzy and Suzette stayed in bed for a considerable amount of time past noon. Neither needed that much sleep, but it had been a long time since Ozzy had slept in a bed, and they both enjoyed getting reacquainted. The grumbling of Ozzy''s stomach finally forced them to get up. Suzette looked at the bathtub and then at Ozzy. "Still have that handy Cleanse cantrip? I''ve missed that."
"It''s been upgraded to a spell now. It happened when I made a deal to do a quest for Jack Fyrebeard and got rewarded with the Aspect of Radiance." He cast the spell on the two of them, and Suzette could see it was much more powerful. "That''s a powerful upgrade. It feels like I spent an hour in a shower. Is it giving you experience when you cast it?"
Ozzy checked. "Not a lot, about 5 points each time I cast it. It''s not a lot, but every little bit helps."
Suzette was thinking. "I have so many questions about magic. I got all my cantrips and spells from spending Enhancement Points. But most of them aren''t useful." She gave him a quick kiss. "Which is why you giving me that upgrade for Solar Arrow was so lovely. I have a real spell now.
| Spell: Evergreen''s Shining Lance.
A unique spell created by the Goddess Evergreen. The spell may be used in two ways.
Firstly, a Gleaming Projectile of Pure Sunlight may be launched at a foe. Dodging something as fast as light is beyond most creatures, and the Lance will rarely miss.
Range: 100 feet.
Mana Cost: 200
Damage: 200 plus 5 additional points per point of RAD of the caster. Demons, Devils, Daemons, Fallen, and those that Defile Nature will take extra damage from the spell.
Additional Effects: When cast into the sky, sunlight pours down upon the island earth, and plants receive Evergreen''s blessing, increasing their growth and harvest. |
Ozzy compared that to how much damage she had been doing with her older version. "The new effect is interesting. But did you lose the ability to increase the damage by pumping up the mana cost?"
Suzette shared some notifications with him. "Yes, but that''s because this is a different spell from Solar Arrow. I don''t even know that cantrip anymore. My staff isn''t affecting the spell. In fact, the staff reset entirely."
| The spell that was upgraded by The Enhancing Staff of the Versatile Magician had been removed. You are not attuned to it.
Enhancing Staff of the Versatile Magician
Sometimes a big stick helps to compensate for what you lack in other places.
This staff is able to enhance the effects of one Rune, one Aspect, or one spell effect. The enhancement is versatile, meaning it can be changed to another enhancement with 10 minutes of meditation. Current enhancement: none.
If the enhancements are made permanent, the staff will enhance one selected Rune, increase one Aspect, and increase one spell effect of a chosen spell (Example: always increases the radius of a fireball.) These enhancements cannot be changed later. Choose wisely. |
Ozzy was immediately interested in the possibilities. "So you could use this again for the new spell and really turn it into a powerful spell... Or, you could use it for another spell and give yourself some versatility." He tried to say this with a straight face.
She looked at him and nodded. "Yes, this will need considerable thought. Having a decent spell and an enhanced cantrip is just as good as a portable Laser Cannon."
She couldn''t hold it. She snorted and bent over laughing, Ozzy soon following. They looked at each other and said a word at the same time. "Cannon!"
Further talk was interrupted by Ben banging loudly on the door. "If you have time to talk about min/maxing spell effects, it''s time to get to work. Jorges wants to get another fifty feet of rune-work carved today so he can finish that wall section. And everyone is looking for Ozzy. Billy wants a meeting tonight with the three of us and Rolly."
The Butcher and Barmaid shared one more long kiss and then walked downstairs for another day in sedgewick, unaware of the impending invasion of tax collectors.
Chapter 267: Profitable Dealings with Small Town Mayors
The Tavern was quite full as the taxmen entered. Their guards each got a beer and went to sit in the stables with the horses. One scribe named Kenneth Higgins ventured to the bar at the order of Theordis, ordered three glasses of small beer and three Blud Dark for their table, and inquired about the Mayor. No one seated at any of the tables stood out. The barmaid, however, stood out quite a bit. The scribe had suddenly found himself staring and unable to speak as the half-elven girl stared at him with large eyes. She smiled and toyed with a lock of his hair. "And what do those scary-looking tax people want with our mayor? Nothing bad, I hope?" It took a few breaths until he found his voice. "Oh, no. Nothing bad at all. They want to offer the Mayor a bribe to work with them against the Baron. All for the best, really."
"Oh, that sounds wonderful. I''m glad that the empire sent such helpful people. Maybe you could tell me a little about each one?" Kenny saw nothing wrong with that, and as the barmaid slowly got his order ready, he gave her a brief description of each of the three men''s goals.
The barmaid took the scribe''s money, handed him mugs of Blud Dark, and poured three beers. "Thanks for your honesty, Kenny. Don''t worry; I''ll keep it between the two of us." She walked behind Kenneth, swaying between tables, greeting people, and stopping to talk. Getting to the tax men, she put a mug in front of each. "If you are looking for the Mayor, they will be in the meeting room on the third floor in ten minutes. It''s traditional here in Sedgewick to offer refreshments. Please help yourself to a glass of wine while you are waiting."
Theordis was looking at her strangely. "Have we met before?" Suzette seemed to think about the question. "Sorry, I don''t remember so well. I''m sure you''d remember me if you had entered my tavern before. Then again, they do say all barmaids look alike." She walked away laughing.
Kenny took a long drink of his water. "I wished they all looked like that."
Manfred agreed but tried to remain unaffected by her charm. She was part fae, after all, and could no more stop attracting the looks of weak-willed young men than she could stop breathing . "She''s a level 10 barmaid, and despite looking like that, quite lonely with a crush on a local boy too shy to talk to her. She also has several interesting quests dealing with the local dungeons. That is quite high a level for a tavern wench, isn''t it? How many beers a day would you have to serve to gain that much experience? Whoever owns this tavern is doing quite well."
Geoffrey laughed. "Not surprising since everyone goes to a tavern looking for quests, and one of the dungeons is located beneath the tavern. The Baron obviously controls the bar and the dungeon. Only a fool would let an underling control a dungeon." He pointed around the room at glowing swords, shields, tridents, and loin clothes. "Notice all the low-level magical items for sale. Adventurers probably trade them to her for beer and food. Someone could make good money buying them from her cheap and selling them elsewhere."
Theordis stood. "Something else to talk about after we are done with our chat with the mayor."
The six of them trooped up the stairs and found a large meeting room. On a small side table were several bottles of wine, one already opened. A dozen simple goblets were next to the bottles, and each took the opportunity to try the local vintage. One of the scribes, Vincent, offered his opinion. His family owned a small vineyard. But a 3rd son doesn''t inherit, so he left the family grapes to become a scribe. He still missed it sometimes. "It''s not bad. Very sweet, fermented from apples and other fruit. Blackberry? Slightly carbonated and with a good sparkle. The vintner didn''t skimp on the mana. The barrel this came from must have spent months sitting in a sunny meadow. The high proof is balanced by some zing." He took a sip, then another.
Theordis downed half of his at a gulp. "I''m not interested in your opinions on wine, Vincent. Perhaps your father still needs your help back on the farm?" He sniffed the glass. "Not up to my usual quality, I''m afraid, too sweet." He drank the rest of the glass. "But I''m warming to it. Open another bottle, Vincent, and refill my glass."
Geoffrey laughed. "Just like a bar to have roasted peanuts on the table." He ate a handful. "Quite salty, but I like the flavor." A half-hour passed, and another bottle was opened. The peanuts disappeared. Imperial functionaries were used to waiting for appointments. Sometimes for hours. They all agreed that it would be a welcome improvement if all of their meetings had wine and snacks.
What they hoped to accomplish here and in other villages nearby was discussed, sometimes loudly, and more wine was drunk. While Sedgewick offered more opportunities for profit than the average village out in the boondocks, such dealings were becoming more common. Programs were set up to help the locals, and the taxmen found ways to enrich the empire and themselves. Agreements were made with local mayors or land owners. It kept things orderly and under control. In this case, if they could gain some control of Sedgewick, they could use it to negotiate easier with the Baron.
Finally, an hour after they began drinking, the door opened, and the barmaid from below entered the room, taking a seat on the other side of the table.
"My apologies. Things are just so busy today. What do we have to talk about?"
Manfred was looking at his paperwork and trying to use his Identify skill. His notes said the mayor''s name was Suzette, and this woman was Identified as ''Suzette, Mayor of Sedgewick'' but was obviously the barmaid from downstairs. Twin sisters? His head was a little light and it was hard to concentrate.
Theordis took the lead in the discussions. "Greetings, young lady. We are here, representing the emperor, to assist you in your duties to the larger empire. But first, I have to ask: How did you become the mayor? You seem quite young for such a responsibility."
The mayor smiled. "I''m a little older than I look. I''m sure you''ve noticed my ears. Baron William is so very busy with things up in the city. It''s almost like an obsession with him, and he hardly ever leaves. He was getting so annoyed with all the little things that had to be done down here that one day, he made me Mayor and told me to take care of the village. It''s not that hard, but I wish he would give me more advice on how to do things."
The three taxmen shared a look. Theordis continued. "How fortunate for us to come here. That''s our main job, offering advice. Can we talk about your bank? Does the Baron control it, or do you?"
She thought for a moment. "Well, the nice little gnome showed up and talked to me first and had me open accounts for the town, and the bank is part of the town, and Baron Billy is so busy at the city and wants me to run the town, so I think I''m in charge of the bank? Does that make sense? Things are so confusing around me at times."
"It''s a good thing then that we are here to help. Does the Baron offer you a salary for all of your hard work?"
Suzette became sad and clutched her hands in front of her. "Not yet, sir. I have to work for him for five long years, and then I''ll be paid at the end if I do a good job. My family was impoverished, so I signed his contract. But it''s better here than where I grew up. All of us signed those contracts with the Baron."
"Well, your new friends sent here by the emperor aren''t nearly so stingy. What would you say to working for us as well? We would pay you five gold a month plus bonuses. There''s a small contract to sign that makes sure you get your gold each month, and it also lets us help you run the town and deal with the bank. As long as you don''t say anything to Baron William, he won''t be angry."
The Barmaid considered that and grinned. "I''m good at keeping secrets! And that much money would let me buy a new dress. And with friends like you, the job will be so much easier. Why, I bet I wouldn''t have to handle any of that paperwork, one of your cute scribes like Kenneth could do that." She paused and looked at their glasses. "Oh, you finished your wine. I''m being a poor host. Let me refill those!" She pulled a cork from a new bottle and filled each glass almost to the brim. Vincent was convinced the wine was more potent than usual and started to say something, then thought better of it. He''d voiced opinions before and was usually told to be quiet and mind his tongue.
"Well, here is our advice for you, and I think we can help each other. Geoffrey is here to offer you an Imperial Storehouse for your town. This will bring in goods from far away for your townsfolk and buy up the local excess. He''ll even help with your inventory. Manfred will help you pay your taxes and keep your town''s books. He''ll take over the town''s bank account and control of the town''s building interface. Have you tried to use that yet?"
Suzette nodded. "It was very complex and hard to figure out, but the town had some points sitting there, so I bought some sparkly lights and fun stuff while I figured out how things worked. The Baron didn''t know. But later, he wanted me to use more points on all the storehouses. Oh, and we bought that big set of storehouses for merchant Kallvek. The Baron said he was a nice man and here to help. It used up most of our points, but we have so much more now! The Baron got 50,000 building points for making some good deals, and I got a quarter of them. That''s, um..."
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Geoffrey spit out his wine: "12,500 Building Points!" The others looked shocked as well. The news that the Kallvek trading house also had some connection with the Baron only added to their anxiety. But that amount of building points was unheard of. It must have been a reward for Gadobhra''s rumored trade route to the plane of smoke. The validity of that rumor had been proven by the presence of a flaming ship visiting Sedgewick.
The Barmaid laughed a little. "That''s the number! Thank you."
Theordis spoke quickly. "We mentioned bonuses. I think that many building points and signing over control of the interface would give you a big bonus. How does 500 gold sound?"
Suzette smiled at each in turn, which seemed to add to the effects of the alcohol they were all feeling. "That''s a lot of gold! Do you have this paper I have to sign? And the bag of gold?" That galvanized the tax men. Scribes pulled out sheets of parchment. Such a critical contract couldn''t be put on normal paper! The wording was discussed, and a document was quickly put together. Their regular contracts just didn''t fit the details of this unique village. Suzette insisted on counting the gold to make sure they didn''t give her extra. She had Kenneth and Vincent help. Eventually, the taxmen were satisfied with their paper and pushed it toward her, along with pen and ink. Suzette glanced at it.
"I sign here at the bottom?" They all nodded, nearly drooling. She frowned. "Oh, then you all have to sign first. Your names are higher up than mine because you''re more important. That seems right, doesn''t it? Of course, it does."
They nodded. That was how things worked. Theordis grabbed the pen and signed. "As the leader of this group, I sign first. Then Manfred and finally Geoffrey." The quill and ink were passed around, with each accountant signing his name. Then it was passed back to Suzette.
"Let me blow on this a little to dry the ink." She inhaled several times, blowing on the paper. All six men stared at her as she took those deep breaths. Then she reached for the pen.
"STOP RIGHT THERE!"
The door slammed open. The Baron and Baroness of Gadobhra entered the room. They were accompanied by a strange man in a pin-striped suit, an Imperial Courier, and a small, nondescript man in a mouse-grey tunic and tights who bore a large journal with him. The pin-striped man moved before anyone else could act, picking up the contract. "Your instincts were correct, your excellency. We got here just in time!"
Earlier in the morning...
Ozzy always wondered why the world needed so many middle managers, tax people, accountants, bureaucrats, and government minions. He''d dealt with so many of them in his life, in-game and out. It didn''t seem to matter if he was working for a corporation or some imaginary king. There was just a feel to them. The bunch that he''d talked to outside his pit weren''t as high-ranking as the crew that had come to talk to Billy before. Those guys had been professionals and specialists. Which made Ozzy wonder why the new batch was here. Other people would wonder as well. He dropped off one smoke-cured hell pig ham at the inn and spoke to the Elder Kallvek while he was having his tea. The merchant nodded and thanked him. As Ozzy left, the merchant sent a message to his son. Suzette wasn''t in the tavern when Ozzy got there, she and Ben were carving runes up at the keep. He''d be putting in some hours there every night, himself. Jorges had a lot of heavy lifting he needed to do. But first, Ozzy had a few things to take care of. He left a message for Suzette with Zephyr about their visitors.
The road up to Gadobhra showed many wagon tracks and footprints. It must have been raining a lot lately if there was that much mud. It was strange to think of rain as just normal weather again. In the Smoke, it had been a terrible thing. He crossed into the city through new gates. The towers on either side of the road were larger and more imposing, with square crenellations that matched the top of the ACME headquarters. The ACME logo was on each one. Wrought iron gates with inch-thick bars were open wide enough for a wagon to move through them. Billy must be using some of his windfall of building points.
The city beyond looked the same. Hungrytown stank of mud and dead things, and from the Beastwoods came the howls of wild creatures. The castle loomed behind the ACME headquarters. To the left of it were the noble''s quarter and the home of an undiscovered dungeon. A couple of adventuring parties had gone in and been totally wiped out. They had no memory of what they had encountered. The stockyards and Pit of the Butcher were on the other side of the castle.
Butchering was another job he needed to get back to, and he needed to talk to the Guild Master about upgrading the Butcher''s guild. But not today. Today, Ozzy wanted his bag and had come to dig it out of the hole where his friends had hidden it. The road had been paved over, but he knew the spot. Two hard stomps loosened the paving stones. He''d brought a shovel, barely needed it to clear the two feet of rubble and pull out his Hefty Bag of Large Capacity. The mundane outer wrapping and the magical bag inside were both untouched, as were the contents. As he was looking in the bag, he heard the sound of claws scraping on rocks and turned to see a half dozen ghouls rushing in.
"You bastards again?! Good, I didn''t have to come looking for you." The ghouls howled and charged. Ozzy inhaled and then let loose with Butcher''s Breath. Intense heat and flames raced at the undead, who started screaming as their flesh cooked and bubbled.
| Butcher''s Breath
Base Damage: 150 plus 5xRAD = 300 damage
Mana Cost: 300 -40% (Aspect of Heat rank 8) =180.
You may increase the damage by +300 points for an additional 360 mana.
The fire in your belly needs to get out! Flames burst from your mouth in cone with a 45-degree arc and 30'' in length. Anyone within the area must attempt to avoid or block the flames. A successful save will mean the target takes half damage. |
When the flames subsided, only two were still moving, slowly crawling at the Butcher. Ozzy killed them by stomping on their heads. He leaped down from the embankment, two heavy flensing hatchets appearing in his hands. He kicked at the sealed crypts and yelled into the mists. "Anyone hungry? Fresh meat, right here. Come and get it!" The wind grabbed the smell of cooked meat and moved it across the crypts, tempting the undead to come out in the day. Another dozen ghouls rushed at the Butcher. Ozzy brought the hatchets around in long arcs, heat trailing from them as he fed the heat from his furnace into his weapons. The undead exploded and came apart as he hit them, the combination of Strike Undead, Hack Undead and the added heat overwhelming them.
| You have struck a Carrion Ghoul. Carrion Ghoul has been flensed into very tiny pieces.
Heavy Flensing Hatchet base damage = 200
Bonus for STR of 36 = 180
Bonus for Hack Undead = 270??(Skill: Butcher rank 12 + Skill: Hack Undead rank 15)
Bonus for perk: Powerful =20
Bonus for Strike Undead = 300 (10 points per rank of Strike Undead + 5 points per point of RAD.)
Bonus for Heated Weapon = 10
Bonus for Increased Weapon Damage =10
Total Damage = 990
But Wait! There''s More! These are level 6 to level 8 and below your Tier. You gain a bonus of 20% to your chance to hit and your avoidance. You have gained 0 experience.
Dear lord, what sort of monster are they breeding in the Pit of the Butcher? |
The ghouls were out of their league. Weeks and months spent killing undead in the smoke, especially the final battle where Ozzy had killed thousands of charred, had given him new skills and honed old ones. One hit was all it took as the two large weapons chopped back and forth into the mass of ghouls swarming him. Their claws couldn''t penetrate his hull, and their poison was useless if they couldn''t break his skin.
Ozzy was breathing hard as he finished killing the dozen undead. Strike Undead drained 300 stamina with each swing. He had burned 20% of his stamina and 10% of his mana by going all out and testing his new abilities. It was something he had to be careful with in a long battle. But not here, and not today. Nothing else stirred in Hungrytown.
| Mama Laveau invites you to come sit with her and enjoy a cup of coffee some morning. She''d like to meet you. |
That message surprised him. Coffee? And then he could smell it. A rich, dark roasted blend with a hint of chicory. He''d missed the smell of coffee, and wouldn''t that would taste good on a foggy morning?
"I''ll be by some morning, soon. I have to welcome some new people to the town today." He couldn''t be sure, but he thought he heard soft laughter on the wind.
Chapter 268: I hope you know...
Theordis hated being surprised and off balance. The bottles of wine the group had consumed weren''t helping his ability to think quickly. He tried to counter with bluster. "What is the meaning of barging in here? This is a private meeting."
The man in the pin-striped suit''s head snapped around too quickly, and he glared at Theordis through yellow, reptilian eyes. "Be silent, you sniveling sycophant, or I shall rip your treacherous tongue out." He glared at the tax collector and took a step. The other five men moved away from Theordis, anticipating violence, but the Baron placed a hand on the man''s shoulder (If he was a man?) and restrained him. "Easy, boy. Easy. I want to handle this the old-fashioned way."
A change came over the creature immediately. He turned to the Baron, a gleeful smile on his face. "Oh, can we? I so enjoy that." He shut his eyes, inhaled, and relaxed. When he opened his eyes, they were as blue as the sky. He smiled and held out a hand to Theordis. "Hiya. I''m Roland, the Baron''s tax advisor. Welcome to Sedgewick. Do you have anything for me? Documents? Tax-liens? Veiled threats? Contracts of a dubious nature? Oh, look! I have one in my hand already! I''d love to get started." Theordis let out a breath of relief as Roland''s manner changed 180 degrees; he shook the proffered hand and then realized what the man had said.
"You''re a tax advisor?!"
Roland smiled at all the men. "Yes, your natural enemy. I am conversant with all tax laws and up to date. Let''s get started. I ask that this yellow-dog contract be copied and sent to the Baron''s files, and the local Inquisitor. I don''t want evidence of duplicity disappearing. He handed the contract to the Courier, who barely glanced at it before storing it away.
The Baroness wasn''t happy and began to yell at the Mayor. "First things first. You''ve been bad, Suzette! Very bad! What have we told you about talking to strange men who offer you deals? You are so lucky that we arrived when we did! Trust me, we''ll talk later, but for now, sit in that corner and be silent." She turned back to the taxmen. "Really, you should be ashamed of yourselves. It''s like offering candy to a small child. You know that none of the peasants have ever seen hard cash. You offered her a pittance of a bribe and tried to take advantage of her. I won''t have it." She sat at the table, grabbed a bottle of wine, and poured a small glass.
The Baron sat as well. "Talk to me, gentlemen. Why are you in my Barony? And what do you want."
Geoffrey found himself nominated to go first as Manfred and Theordis glared at him. "Greetings, your excellency. I represent the Office of Acquisitions and Disbursements. Our goal is to stabilize the empire by moving surplus goods to where they are needed and paying a fair price to those people hoarding goods needed elsewhere. This allows a village to purchase items that their area might find scarce. This program has saved thousands of lives from starvation, increased the quality of life in many small villages, and provided income for many land owners, such as yourselves."
The Baron took no wine but lit a cigar, leaning back in his chair. "Roland? Translation, if you please."
"The program he speaks of is governed by sections of chapters 48, 49, 153, and 169. Chapter 169 is constantly updated to keep the program profitable for the empire and the functionaries moving things around in a not-so-subtle shell game. The idea is laudable. The execution is horrible. No cash is paid to those that tithe to the Imperial Storehouses. Instead, they get ''credits.'' Those credits can only be used to buy goods from the Storehouse. Since only ''credits'' are used in the transactions, it can be difficult to gauge value. But for instance, a wheat farmer would sell his bushels for 40% of the average imperial rate and have to purchase goods he needed at 150%. This yields a loss of roughly 75%. Dealing with a large merchant house such as run by the Kallvek family would cut that loss in half, and give more control to the peasants purchasing needed goods.
The goods are shipped to areas where the Storehouses need them, but more often are sold on the open market where they will fetch the highest price. A small amount equal to 5% of the value of the goods is kicked back to the landowner or ruling noble. 15% is disbursed to the agents in different parts of the Office of Acquisitions. The rest of the profit goes to the fund used to build roads, storehouses, and teleport pads."
The Baron whistled. "And here I thought I knew how to screw people. I''m going to assume you want to charge me for the storehouses, and I donate the land, and then you start browbeating my people. I say no. Next item."
Geoffrey persisted. "It is not an option. By law, every city must have storehouses. Our deal with Sedgewick takes care of that. We will be beginning to implement the program soon."
Roland smiled and held up a hand. "Two points. Firstly, while the law strongly encourages the use of magical Storehouses to preserve goods and provide assistance in times of famine, war, monster invasion, marauding orcs, draconic depredations, and other natural disasters, there is only the requirement to have a Storehouse. Not to be forced to buy and sell to the OoAaD. At last count, Gadobhra and Sedgewick both have the required amount of such buildings. We will have a notarized copy sent by Courier to Duke Carl for his files."
"Second point: The mayor did not actually sign the agreement. Please don''t make us all laugh by insisting that you have a ''verbal agreement." I will also note that the fund used to purchase teleporters and rebuild roads has been horribly abused this year, with many need upgrades left unfinished."
Manfred shrugged. He knew a lost cause when he saw one. Geoffrey wasn''t getting his storehouses without a lot of additional pressure. "We can address that later, and possibly find a solution. Let us discuss the taxes you owe, your excellency."
The tax advisor bristled. "The Baron owes no taxes. Yearly upkeep is accounted for by the construction of the new fortress. The dungeons that have been explored were documented, and taxes have been paid. I have receipts for those taxes on both dungeons, signed by a member of the Inquisition and an Imperial Courier." Rolly had made sure Billy kept up with the taxes each time they found a dungeon. Diego had been happy to make sure the gold got to Rowan Keep and went where it was supposed to.
Manfred casually pushed forth a sheet of paper. "Here is a synopsis. The new law has been on the books for many years. Duke Carl Greywolf has seen fit to activate the law to stabilize the economy and level the playing field so that certain entities known as corporations are not causing so much strife among the good citizens of his Dukedom. Henceforth, all contract workers in your employ who have achieved the 2nd Tier will be taxed 100 gold pieces per year. Those who somehow reach the 3rd Tier owe a tax of 400 gold pieces. Those workers who cannot pay the tax will be conscripted into the Imperial Legion, where they will not owe the tax as a soldier. This also includes the noble whose workers have unpaid taxes."
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The room was silent for some time. The Baron took the paper, and his advisor looked up the ancient law and scowled. "It is indeed a law, your excellency, and is quite flexible in its use. Only contract workers are taxed, not regular farmers, peasants, or craftsmen." He began looking through the books for a loophole, but everyone in the room could see his frustration.
The Baron looked at the three men. "Cut the shit. What''s this about? Every corporation in the North is going to push back on this." Manfred shrugged. "Well, you can try. But this is Imperial Law and has been on the books for quite some time. The Duke saw an opportunity to use it to balance things. You and the other outsiders are rocking the boat, so to speak. You can''t throw innocent butchers, farmers, and roadbuilders to the wolves as you take their jobs. Even the guild of mages is threatened by a large amount of mana your workers generate and use to bribe the Legion. Duke Carl will take this tax and see that it is distributed fairly to fix things. The other Dukes are following in his footsteps."
The Baroness snorted. "Oh, things are fixed, all right."
Baron William stared at the paper. "Trust me. I see the shape of things. You don''t like me upsetting your apple carts. You all have your fingers in the pie, and you like the taste of it. I''m not blind. Or rather, I have people with good eyes." He nodded at McTeeth. "My friend here, a successful trader, has noticed a few things in his travels and brought me word."
McTeeth began reading from his book.
"147 miles of road between Hurlsford and Northguard has been destroyed. Ostensibly so that it can be rebuilt, but for now, cutting off The Baron''s lands from the main caravan routes."
"Travel is further made difficult by special taxes on using the teleportation system to Rowan keep."
"To date: 537 refugees from Baron Pinchpenny''s lands have made it to Rowan Keep, disrupting efforts to expand the Keep, straining resources, and costing lives."
"The Legion has arrested 27 Saboteurs for the crime of sabotage."
"104 Saboteurs have had fatal accidents while trying to commit crimes."
"17 individuals claiming to be ''butterfly hunters'' have met horrible and justifiable deaths when they came into the Baron''s lands without a hunting permit. They also annoyed the cows."
"Four teams of ''wyvern hunters'' have been caught baiting the beasts into attacking Rowan Keep causing loss of life and delaying the construction of an important fortress."
The small man quit reading. "There are quite a few more things, such as falsified wanted posters, murders disguised as squirrel attacks, and scandalous rumors designed to disrupt the horse trading industry, but I''m sure everyone can understand the situation."
Manfred smiled back blandly. He hadn''t known the efforts of some people had been so successful. "And you accuse who of these crimes?"
The Baron leaned back for a moment. "No accusations. Just making sure we are all on the same page. I know what you''re trying to pull, and I''m giving you a chance to back out of the scheme before the shit hits the fan. Let''s call it a professional courtesy."
"I''m sure I don''t know what you are talking about." Manfred pointed to the paper. "About the taxes?"
William smiled. "What taxes? No contract workers are living in Gadobhra." He handed the tax bill to Suzette. "You''re responsible for the taxes here in Sedgewick. Find a way to pay the man. Oh, and I''m cutting you off from the bank accounts and the village interface, and you are not allowed to sign anything or make any agreements with anyone."
A tear rolled down Suzette''s cheek. "But how can I pay 32,000 gold pieces in taxes?"
The Baroness looked at her and smiled, showing her bright white teeth that may or may not have had slight points on them. "Regretting that contract now, dear? You were so smug at the time, as I recall. Roland? You have a copy of that contract, don''t you?"
The advisor pulled it out. "Of course I do. It''s very interesting how it''s worded. By my interpretation, if Suzette the Lonely Barmaid must default on the agreement, the tavern, the dungeons, and everything she owns reverts to ACME corporation. She will also break her work contract and agreement to not leave Sedgewick and abandon her job. Luckily, she will always have a home in the Legion."
The Baroness stared at Manfred. "Thank you, I''ve wanted to get rid of her for ages."
The tax man scowled. "You will still end up paying! Those taxes will revert to Gadobhra. Even if you squirm out of them this year, you will pay them the next!"
The Baron seemed to agree. "But that buys me time. Rowan Keep will be done in a year, and I''ll have more money coming in and a dozen lawyers working for me! See you in court."
Theordis took that moment to speak. "If... Only if you finish Rowan Keep. You have so much to do, dear Baron, and I will make it much harder with my report. You have most everything covered in your plans but neglected the need for a larger teleporter. It''s clearly stated in the Legion regulations for construction of new fortresses. Maybe you should have found those regulations instead of relying on the knowledge of a local centurion? Based on my talks with your architect, the Inquisitor Diego, and Centurion Marcus about the size of the construction, you will need to upgrade the teleport pad to a minimum of Tier 3, and I''m going to recommend Tier 4. Very expensive. I''d hazard a guess at nearly a million gold pieces. It''s difficult to acquire the needed raw stone, ship it slowly overland from a quarry and then hire the mages needed to complete the work. I think the wait time is about 13 years as well. Oh, and lest we forget, you will also need a mana storage device with a capacity of 1 million for Tier 3, and10 million mana for Tier 4. Another large expense."
He leaned forward. "Or, you can re-instate your Mayor, let her sign a few documents, pay your taxes today, and we''ll be out of your hair. You can return to focusing on Gadobhra and leave Sedgewick to us. We''ll make sure things go along smoothly for you. I''ll fight to only have a Tier 2 stone in Rowan Keep. Maybe you''ll even find that you like working with us. I''m sure it must be confusing dealing with strange merchandise from the Fae and the Elemental planes. You might find some of it very difficult to find buyers for. We can erase those problems for you. For a small fee."
Everyone looked at the Baron. Billy finished his cigar and stubbed it out on the table. "I don''t like it, but teleporters don''t grow on trees. I need some time to think this over. Why don''t you gentlemen head over to the Inn. Dinner and rooms for the night are on me. Get your contracts together and Roland here will start looking at them at dawn. I''ll be down after breakfast."
Theordis puffed out his chest, enjoying the victory. "Thank you for being so gracious, your excellency. We will see you in the morning."
After they left, everyone waited for Billy to speak. He looked around the room. "I hope you know, this means war."
Chapter 269: Preparing for Battle
"You enjoyed that far too much." Suzette was pouring strong tea from a pot and passing it out to everyone. Layla took hers and smiled without shame, admitting as much. "Nothing says I can''t enjoy my role in our little play-acting. But I''ll make it up to you and let you stab those odious creatures first. I want them dead, but you had to endure quite a bit more of their abuse."
"Trust me, if I thought I could solve the problem by getting rid of them, I''d have poisoned the peanuts. But you''re right; I don''t like them. The more innocent I acted, the more they wanted to take advantage of me. They were anxious at the end and drooling at the idea of lining their pockets. It was pretty uncomfortable."
Ben waved aside the tea and went for a large glass of wine. "Which is why Ozzy is out in a field helping a group of farmers settle into their new houses. I''m not sure what he would have done if he had heard how they talked to you. And I don''t want to find out."
Rolly was of a different mind. "Are you kidding? It would be awesome to see. Squirmie saw him fighting some ghouls this morning, and now she wants me to buy her another wand of fireballs."
"Huh, so that''s why the little stinkers were so cautious today. I tossed some raw meat to them to draw out a bunch, but only a couple slunk out of the shadows. They grabbed some breakfast and ran away to hide." Billy''s campaign against the ghouls was paying off, with fewer and fewer undead appearing at night. "But let''s talk about fun stuff like killing ghouls later. Right now, we have to do some brainstorming on dealing with these unexpected expenses. First, I''m making an official statement that any instructions we gave Suzette in the last ten minutes were not serious, and she should ignore them. All except the part about the tax on Contract Workers. I think you should be responsible for that."
Suzette looked at the Baron, wondering what the joke was.
Rolly''s eyes grew large as he realized what Billy was talking about. "Oh! Yes, I agree. Suzie is responsible for taxes in Sedgewick, including the contract workers living here. This is going to be so awesome!"
"I have no idea what''s going on. Rolly? Why are you agreeing with Billy?"
Rolly had found several passages in the tax books he was double-checking. "Yep. It''s all here. Let''s do this." He turned to Billy. "Consider your taxes paid, or at least creatively delayed your excellency." He turned to Suzette. "Trust us on this. Might be better if you have no idea what horrible, sneaky people like Billy and I are doing."
Suzette sighed and gave in. Her curiosity was killing her, wondering about what they were planning, but it wasn''t the first time she had trusted one of Rolly''s crazy schemes.
Layla was scowling at her wine glass. "I want to know who''s behind them. Mid-level managers don''t decide to run up to see a Baron one day and try to pull crap like this. The imperial bureaucracy is as corrupt as a real-world government; kudos to the game designer for making things so realistic, but there''s more to this than three greedy idiots."
"Other corporations? Other Barons? Guilds we are undercutting? Some nameless evil wizard spying on us with a crystal ball?" Ben was making a list.
Billy looked over at him and smirked. "You''ll need more paper and ink for that. You forgot Vern and every other ACME manager, who is afraid I''ll get ahead of them.
McTeeth looked at the list. "Add the teamsters union, the mages who run the teleporters, factions within the Legion, large land owners with farms, the butcher''s and meatpackers guild, and anyone jealous of his Excellency having exclusive trade routes. There are even rumors that Baron William is behind the gang of horse thieves operating in the area."
Billy sat back and thought. "It will be all of them. Every last person, Baron, Duke, guild, or wizard you put on that list will be part of it, and a bunch more that we don''t know about. Most are just secondary players, roped into the scheme by a core group. One person might even lead that group. But if I was going to cause someone grief, that''s how I''d do it; I''d stir up as much shit as I could and aim it all at the new Baron who has a construction project to finish. This is good old-fashioned corporate fun and games. Pick the target, and put pressure from every angle. Appeasement won''t work, and playing nice won''t work. Someone wants us gone, so assume everyone wants us gone."
Layla was watching Billy closely, looking for any hint of weakness. She didn''t find any, nor had she expected to, but the city had mucked with his head, and she wanted to make sure he was back to his vicious, back-stabbing, usual self. If anything, he looked happy to be in a big fight.
Billy took a moment to gather his thoughts and then started talking rapidly. "So that solves the who. Now we start hitting people and taking heads. Coalitions like that don''t hold together well when you put pressure on them. We''ll start with those three idiots spending my money at that inn. I want them off balance before tomorrow, and not feeling well. Someone make sure the inn has plenty of the right type of alcohol. Then we apply a little force anytime someone pushes us."
"They are going to keep hammering the construction at the Keep. I''m going to talk to Marcus about his troops doing a little extra training. Monsters are a constant problem for everyone. As Baron, I''m going to demand he puts out night patrols and set ambushes to catch more of the saboteurs. Oh, I mean ''monsters'' plaguing the area. Let''s see how much help we can give them. We''ve got alchemists in town; get them making night-vision potions or any else that can help. And some barrels of the Apple Kickass. I swear that stuff is like drinking four cups of coffee. That will keep them happy and alert."If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
"We don''t have the resources and time to build our roads all the way to Northguard or to keep them from tearing it up even if we did. The building points aren''t worth the waste of resources, especially time. But we aren''t going to be having caravans make the trip, which cuts down on market days. We need another route that lets us trade with the capital but bypasses Northguard and its territory. Is there a route on this side of the mountains that we can take to Thunderhead? That bypasses Hurlsford and puts us far west of the area PennyPincher controls. If we build that way, it even lets us open up my copper mine."
Ben and McTeeth looked at each other, and the thief rolled his eyes. Both had checked out that mine when they had traveled to Thunderhead. It was obvious why Famco wagered it in the corporate war. The mine might still have ore, but it was infested with monsters. Spiders, slimes, giant centipedes, and poisonous lizards infested the upper levels. The lower levels were said to be haunted by undead. The thief offered his opinion. "There are routes that I may have heard of. There''s a pass over the mountains a few miles east of Thunderhead. After that, it''s just forest and brushland all the way to Sedgewick. Wild country. The paths I''ve seen are mostly game trails. I''d suggest sending someone who knows something about building a road and a party to protect them and scout it out."
"Good. That''s a priority, as long as the people we use don''t take away from the building of the keep. Next up is meat. We won''t be selling anymore to the Legion this year. I may, however, gift Marcus some of the choicer cuts. I''ll decide that after our discussion about night patrols. But we don''t slack off on production. We stockpile our excess and use the Kallveks to flood the markets in select areas. We''ll do the same with anything else we produce. We don''t spread it around. We dump all the goods in one small area and start destroying local markets. After all, we need to pay our taxes. We''ll send a team of workers to the Keep each time the Kallveks use the teleporter for a load of goods, supply the mana, and ensure the supply of mana at the Keep is topped off. Marcus likes that."
"But other than that, they aren''t getting any more free mana to transfer elsewhere. That stops. I was hopeful that supplying extra mana would grease some wheels, but all it did was piss off the people selling mana. I don''t have time to deal with that now."
Billy turned to the biggest problem. "We have a handle on two out of three of their schemes. Now I just need to find out how to afford a teleporter for the new keep. They can use that as leverage to force the storehouses and try to get their claws into the Fae and Smoke trading. The first thing to do is find out who we dispute the need for a bigger stone with. Some bureaucrat? The Duke? The Emperor? This place needs better marketing; I don''t know who''s in charge."
He paced back and forth. "Another thing I''ll have to talk with Marcus about. But assuming that we have to upgrade the damn thing, what other options do we have besides paying for it? Can we make one? What about stealing one? Are there teleports in dungeons or old cities we can grab for free? What do we know?"
"I looked into it briefly before when you wanted Gadobhra to start selling things direct for real dollars." Layla hadn''t liked what she''d found out then and didn''t like it now. "It''s an old system, controlled by specialized mages and tightly controlled by the empire. We know it takes that huge stone and has to be made of Tier 2 or higher materials. Beyond that? I don''t know."
Ben looked out the window and over to the Inn. "I wonder if they know? It would violate guest courtesy for someone to snoop through all that paperwork. I know the baron would never ask that of anyone."
"Oh, heavens no. Unacceptable to ask."
Ben had a few other ideas. "So we won''t be doing that. The big slab up at the Keep is magical and carved with runes. It stores mana. They mentioned we''d need something to upgrade the mana storage for the upgraded teleport stone. Those are all clues we can pursue. I suggest that Suzette talks to whoever taught her to make a gigantic Hermetic Seal. They may have some knowledge." He looked over to Billy. "Wouldn''t Gadobhra have had a stone? This was a Barony of the Empire once. What happened to the teleport stone they had in the city?"
Layla looked at Billy. "That''s a good question and something you could go poke into. Maybe there''s one sitting in that castle?"
McTeeth spoke up. "Not on the first floor or the second. I''ve only gotten glimpses of the throne room but didn''t see anything. But I don''t think it would be. Castles are to keep people out and protect your gold. Having a teleporter inside ruins the reason for having a castle."
"I may have a place to look for information, but it means taking a few days to a week off for a long ride. Unless, of course, his excellency has official paperwork that needs to go to the capital." Ben looked at Billy. "Possibly a letter disputing the need for an improved teleporter?"
Billy nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good. You and Rolly write your letters, and then you can take off for the Capital. How long is the ride?"
"A lot quicker if I have official correspondence and can use the teleport stone. Horses travel fast; magic travels faster."
Chapter 270: Cleaning House
Baron Tobias Chintzworthy, Lord of Northguard, Protector of the Northern Territories, and veteran collector of bugs, was having a bad morning. In a stunning betrayal, moths had gotten into his clothes closet, and his 2nd best robe was full of holes. Robes three and four had been used by his seamstress to patch his best robe long ago. That robe had now given up any semblance of being threadbare clothing and transformed into a pile of thread and scraps. Wearing his pajamas and a partial robe, he roamed his apartments aimlessly. All hope had deserted him. His collection was gone, and he had finally admitted to himself that most of it had never existed. If they were real, the collector that had pillaged his collection would never offer to return them.
None of the teams he had sent to collect the gorgeous specimen from Baron William''s lands had returned. And for all of their promises, Alchemarx had also failed. He had hoped for that, actually. He wanted them to clear land, build farms, and then fail on their end of the bargain so he could reclaim his lands and move the peasantry to better farms to increase his profits. The old farmland could then be turned into pasture. Now he was without the joy of collection, without the specimen that would have been the crown jewel, and strangers had taken some of his lands. His mind had slowly worked through these things as he had sat day after day in his rooms, too depressed even to eat.
Deep in his heart, something stirred. Not much, just a little knot of anger, envy, and spite. But that was enough to get him moving. He was going to do something he had promised his grandfather he would never do. That made him smile. He''d always been curious. The old man had shown him a box made of jade, carved with runes spelling out horrible curses and threats. "Our Houses legacy, but a terrible thing that nearly destroyed us before, and certainly will destroy us if ever opened."
"Then why keep it?" His twelve-year-old hands had itched to open the box.
"Because someday, one of our line will be betrayed, angry, or depressed enough to use it. I certainly don''t have to worry about that, and I won''t take away someone else''s chance to burn down the world. It''s going into the main vault with the rest of our precious things. I only show it to you because you will be Baron someday, and this is too important to forget and too dangerous to be out where someone can steal it."
Into the vault, it had gone, and there it had stayed. His grandfather had died, and his father had become Baron. Tobias had finished his studies and made two long expeditions into the jungles of the south to expand the family collection. He was upset when a third expedition had to be canceled when his father died. He was now stuck in Northguard and would have to pay people to do his exploring. He found the duties of being a Baron boring. He took in the taxes, paid a few bills, tossed some excess into the vault, and spent the rest on his collection. He left the rest up to the Legion Commander or his Chatelain.
With the decision made, PinchPenny felt better. What good was a vault of valuables if a man didn''t have a collection of pretty bugs pinned to his walls? He went to a series of rope pulls. They had been made of silk when he was a boy but had deteriorated and torn, one by one. He''d had them replaced with ordinary ropes. The bells sounded odd as he pulled the cords, and one failed to make any sound at all. He awaited visits from his chatelain, guard captain, head housekeeper, master of the hunt, and head groom. A half-hour passed with nothing happening. He pulled all the ropes again, several times. Only the cord for his chatelain had been used for over a decade. Through the small holes in the ceiling that the ropes were threaded came dust, feathers, and bird droppings. The silent bell still only gave a clunk instead of a ring. He briefly thought of getting a guard to go kill the birds and clean things up, but he really didn''t care.
Finally, the door opened, and a younger man entered. "Sorry, M''lord. The guard said you wanted me?"
Pinchpenny didn''t know this face. "Who the hell are you?" His visitor was over six feet tall and well-muscled but lacked the grace of a fighter. Homespun clothing and a currycomb on his belt hinted at his position in the castle.
The boy grew nervous. "I''m Hoss, sir. I groom the horse and donkey and take them for walks to keep them active."
"A groom? Where is the head groom?" And why had his guardsmen sent this boy? He was obviously younger once he started speaking. Just large for his age.
"Oh, he''s gone. That would be my father."
"Gone? My condolences to your family. I appoint you as the new Head-Groom."
The boy nodded his head and smiled. Theoretically, his wages had just doubled. "No condolences needed, my lord. The bastard ran off and left me to care for my mother and two sisters."
Pinchpenny saw the flash of anger and hurt. Good. He should be angry. He was still mad at his own father for dying too young and sticking him with the job of running a barony. "Go find me the Cook, Captain of the Guard, House Keeper, Hunt Master, and Chatelain."
The boy sighed. He knew the Baron hated bad news. He was about to be fired. "The bitch of a cook is who my father ran off with. All of your guards except Bruno and Fat have quit or gone to work with the Legion. I think Bruno is the smarter of the two, but Fatty is meaner. The Chatelain is passed out drunk. He found some wine hidden in the basement. And I don''t think we''ve had a Hunt Master in ten years, sir."
The boy turned to leave, seeing the anger on his Baron''s face. "Can your mother cook at all, boy?"
Hoss turned back. "She can cook groats, mutton, soup, and eggs. She burns bread, and gravy is a mystery to her. It''s peasant fare, sir."
PinchPenny thought she was perfect. "Tell her she''s now head cook. Your sisters are in charge of housekeeping. Move your family in and tell her I want boiled mutton for dinner and groats for breakfast. If the chatelain is drunk, search his room and find where he hides the valuables he steals from me. Keep one part in six for your wages and use the rest for food. Don''t worry about the anything else. I can find the stairs on my own."
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Hoss thought over what he''d been told to ensure he understood and then got to work. He started with the chatelain. The man hadn''t been bad to him, but he hadn''t been good either, and Hoss didn''t like how he looked at his sisters. There were bad rumors about Frederick the chatelain and unproven accusations from prior years. Complaints were made, but the baron didn''t care, and nothing had come of it but resentment and a slow exodus of household staff. Hoss made sure to take a heavy metal candle holder with him. Snoring came from the chatelain''s room. Hoss entered slowly and opened the door wide to get in more air. The old man was dead drunk and had been sick at least once. Many wine bottles and piles of dirty pewter plates and goblets littered the room. That solved the mystery of where all the castle''s dinnerware had been disappearing to. Cook had constantly complaining about it.
Searching the room was nearly impossible. It overflowed with trash. He rolled Freddy up in the filthy blankets and dragged him to the hallway. Two other blankets were spread out, and dirty dishes went on one and trash on the other. Slowly he cleaned the bedroom and moved to the small study and closets. He found a cloth bag with an odd assortment of items on the desk. Four silver pieces, a small broach, and a hair ribbon. Another bag was found in a drawer. This one had a cheap silver ring, a pair of tiny socks, and a bit of red yarn. The closets were stuffed with clothing. And not just the chatelains. All sizes and colors. Piles of stuff loaded in the back in no order.
After moving two heavy chairs, he rolled up the large rug and looked underneath. Flagstones had been removed, and a wooden chest fitted into the floor. Excited and unknowing of traps and spells, Hoss yanked it open. There were luckily no traps on it. Inside were more bags, a pile of gold, silver, and copper coins, a jeweled tiara fit for a baroness, a sword of state, and five dolls. The dolls were old and threadbare, passed down through families¡ªthe things you gave to small children. The bags held ribbons, locks of hair, and small wooden toys.
Hoss straightened up and left the room, needing air. Shaking himself, he looked at the still-sleeping man. He straightened up the bed, put the man back into it, and then put his hand over Frederick''s nose and mouth. The old man woke, struggling for air but couldn''t budge the groom''s thick arm. Hoss didn''t know how long it took to kill a man, so he didn''t move his hand for a quarter-hour. The trash he left, but the dishes he put in the kitchen and then found his family and had them get to work. He kept all the money, not trusting his mother to buy food. He''d deal with the merchants himself.
Hoss brought dinner to the Baron that night and gave him an accounting of the castle. Pinchpenny was unmoved when he informed him of Frederick dying in a pool of his vomit. "One less person to pay, and one less mouth to feed. I don''t need a Head Groom as much as a Chatelain. Do the job, and I''ll give you another raise. Find some urchin to take care of the horses."
There was a seamstress that did work for the Legion. He took some of the chatelain''s best clothes down to her and paid her to make him two sets in his size. She was happy for the work and happier for the silver piece he gave her. They''d smiled at each other for years. Two weeks later, he moved her into the castle and appointed her Head Housekeeper, to his younger sister''s annoyance. He and Fat had a talk down in the stable one night. Bruno watched and didn''t interfere. Afterward, when Fat had regained his senses, Hoss shared a bottle of wine with them, and everyone agreed Hoss should be in charge. Things were looking up.
PinchPenny descended to the dungeons below his broken castle with a large keyring dangling in one hand. The first door opened easily enough; its iron lock was in good repair even though the wood of the door showed rot. Beyond it were another set of stairs and a second door. A copper key opened a copper lock after the right combination of buttons disarmed the traps. Another set of stairs led to a fake door with many traps. Looking through the loop on the end of a silver key, he found the hidden door and opened it. Beyond lay the Vault.
In the corner was a pile of coins. The family tradition was to add to the vault, not withdraw. A long pipe had been added to make that easy, and generations of Baron Chintzworthy had thrown extra taxes or pocket change down to this pile. No one cleaned and stacked the coins. That was menial work, and no minions would be allowed in here. He ignored the chests of wealth and magical items left to rot in the vault. What he needed was at the end on a high shelf, just as his grandfather had told him.
Opening it didn''t prove easy. His hands shook, and his mouth was dry. Almost, almost he put the box back on its shelf. But he''d come this far; what was a little more? The wax seal was old and hard but melted when he used Califore''s Flaming Dagger to pick out the wax. He slid back the lid and stared at the contents, moving aside the soft padding...
Much later, the Baron walked back up the stairs; the pain in his knees gone. He smelled boiled mutton and could hear people moving around his castle. As the hour for dinner approached, the boy brought up his food. He had found clean plates and a goblet somewhere and a bottle of cheap wine to go with the mutton. As PinchPenny ate, Hoss reported what he had done and detailed the state of the castle. There were details he left out, of course. The boy should have been scared, and nervous. Instead, he had a core of anger and determination in him. He''d do. Out with the old and in with the new. It was time for changes. He tossed the magical dagger in its red leather sheathe to the lad.
"Here. Take this. Consider it a bonus for work well done. Send for more mutton. I have an appetite tonight. Then tomorrow, we will talk about what needs to be done, and later this week, we will visit the nice people at Alchemarx."
Chapter 271: End of one road, Start of Another.
Jonathan Yarrow was tired. He was tired of running and sleeping under a wagon, worried that his family would have to flee again in the middle of the night. They had rested in the large refugee camp on the outskirts of Rowan keep for the last three days. He was still uneasy. The Legion at Northguard had done nothing to aid them when the raiders burned their villages and herded them like cattle to the north.
Things seemed better here. The Legion had supplied them with food and clean water, and a healer had been making the rounds. While he was still worried, at least his family had been able to relax. The children could play with others their age, and his wife and mother-in-law had slept for a full day. His wife''s father was also looking better. His burns had nearly killed him. He''d been hurt when he saved two of his grandchildren after the house was torched in the middle of the night. Now he was up and walking again. The goddess had sent a healer to them, for which they would ever be thankful. The man had ridden up on a large horse to help them gain the safety of the keep. When he noticed old Fallis in the back of the wagon, he''d leaped down from his horse and used the Goddess''s light to heal the old man. The children had gathered around him, asking him to heal their cuts and scrapes, and he''d patiently taken time to heal each of them. Jonathan had never believed the old tales of the Emperor''s magical couriers who rode through the land righting wrongs and carrying tidings from place to place. He was more inclined now.
After two days, they were on the road again. And it was a good road for a change! The wagon wheels rolled quickly along the smooth stone. The roads past Northguard had been demolished and it was easier to travel through fields on the side. He''d been told they were heading for a small village ten miles away. The new Baron was offering them a chance to farm for him. Jonathan and others had eagerly taken him up on his offer. They would still be working to make a noble rich, but if it kept his family fed and protected, that was all that mattered. His family and nine others were in a group, all headed together to an area they could begin homesteading and sharecropping.
The work would be hard at first. Creating new farmland always was. Trees had to be cut, and stumps tore out. The would clear rock to make fences and use the wood for houses and barns. Then gathering more rock to build hearths and chimneys. Food was a worry, but the Baron''s man had joked that they had no shortage of groats. It would be porridge and muffins three times a day, but at least his family would be fed until he could make his first harvest. Things would be rough, but rough was better than impossible.
The little caravan moved down the road and circled the small town, led by some of the Baron''s men. One, in particular, stood out. He was quite large, and when one of the wagons had become stuck, he picked it up and set it down a few feet to the side as easily as if lifting a piece of firewood. Rather than being scared of him, the children clustered around his legs, asking him how strong he was. He gave them rides on his shoulders and back, three at a time.
The town had some oddities. The children stared first at the horrible smoking building and then at the beautiful ship above it. A flying ship! There had been a wild tale that such a ship had been sighted in the sky. But where was it from? What magic made it move? The giant man, Ozzie, told the children fanciful tales of ghostly pirates and ships sailing on a sea of smoke. The rest of the town seemed well off¡ªroofs and walls of solid stone and slate. No one was pinching pennies here. It would be a place to visit and spend their meager funds on necessities for the house. They had saved a few things, like his plow and smithing tools, but many things had been left behind, or lost in the fire.
After the town, they turned off the paved road onto a dirt lane that had seen much traffic. They passed wagon after wagon headed the other way, loaded with gravel, sand, wooden planks, and apples. So many wagonloads of apples! The Baron must have extensive orchards. After five miles, they stopped in the middle of nowhere. All around them was a vast area of tree stumps, piles of barren limbs, and stacks of lumber. It was as if Hades'' scythe had cut down an entire forest. One of his younger sons pulled on his sleeve, excited. "Daddy, they knew we were coming and made a place for us!" Jonathan doubted that. But, he was very thankful that some of the work had already been done.
Ozzy came to his rescue in explaining things to the children. "This was a forest a year ago, but the oaks picked a fight with all the other trees and then went to war with the town. The town had more axes than the forest had trees. Things have all been worked out, but it left the Baron with some unused land, and the mayor wants to fill it up with people. No sense in letting it become scrubland. Follow along, and I''ll show you where to start building."
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He led the wagons to an area of flat ground. Work had already been done here. A plot of land a hundred feet to the side was paved with stone, with a good well in the center. On the far end was a windowless stone building that looked like a storehouse for grain. The area around the square had plots laid out for houses. "Normally, we''d just dig wells and lay out the town square, but things are busy with the work up at the keep. The mayor talked to the Baron, and he agreed to use some of the village''s building points to get you folks started. Each hamlet will start with a town square, a well, a storehouse, and one hundred acres of cleared land for farming. You can bed down the children in the storehouse until we get the homes finished, we''ll start those today. There are blankets and food inside. Lots of fuel for fires in those piles of limbs. You folk can decide who lives where, and we''ll start moving the timber and stone to begin the houses." He paused. "Any questions? I know this is hurried, but the mayor wanted to settle you as quickly as possible."
There were murmurs all around. One man ventured a question. "Your pardon, sir. The Baron is very generous to build houses for us to live in as we work his land. But we don''t know what he needs in return. Do you know what he expects in harvests and taxes from us?" Many of the other farmers were curious as well. Nobles demanded work and taxes and gave little away out of charity.
"Oh hell, don''t worry about that for now. You should all focus on caring for your families and finishing the work on your houses. We''re still figuring things out as we go, but I can tell you a few things." He began counting the points off on his fingers.
"First, no taxes the first year because the Baron knows you don''t have any money. You should elect a mayor for your hamlet, someone who speaks for you. We''ll sit down with the heads of each hamlet and hammer out an agreement for sharecropping or taxes. It has to be fair to all of us. You need to feed your families and get some money to move forward, and the Baron needs a profit from the land. How much did you have to pay in taxes to Baron PinchPenny?"
No one spoke until Jonathan stepped forward. "We gave him half of everything we grew and paid a tax for our land and a levy of goods to the Imperial Storehouse so we could buy seed from them the next spring. Sometimes a little more if the Barony was having a bad year."
Ozzy looked at the villagers. They were thin. And it wasn''t from a hard couple of weeks on the run. He knew about sharecropping. The farmer worked and gave up half of what they grew. A bad year meant starvation. It was a horrible system, and this was worse. "That''s too much. The Mayor and the Baron were thinking of at most a quarter. But for the first year, you keep all of it. The Baron will buy your excess food and grain, or you can sell it to the merchant house in Sedgewick and pocket the money. Every family should start an account at the bank. The gnome is a nice fellow and will start your account for just one copper. That means all your money will be safe from thieves or bandits."
While they were getting used to the idea of keeping most of what they grew, he continued. "You should consider the houses as belonging to you. Technically, the mayor has things set up as a long-term lease, but we''ll include a way for you to buy your land and house. If, for some reason, you need to move on, that''s fine. We''ll give your house to someone else or buy it if you''ve paid it off. Each family starts with a farmhouse and ten acres of land. This area in the center will be for your hamlet. We want each of you to have a small vegetable garden behind your house, and we''ll plant berry bushes and fruit trees around the town''s border. You''ll be surprised how well that will cut the wind and keep out wild animals. Be careful of the trees. Please don''t cut them for wood or break branches. They won''t like that."
"The Baron will provide seed to plant your crops and tell you what to grow first. We want you maximize your work and make the most money. Expect several harvests a year. Things are fertile here. Oh, and that reminds me: Just let the unicorns roam around and make friends with them, if possible. They might be a bit skittish at first. They can increase the yield in an acre just by walking through the crops, and unicorn poop should be saved and used in your gardens. Careful, it''s potent stuff."
"Hmm, other rules. Don''t cut down an apple tree; always ask permission before picking fruit. In fact, it''s best not to cut down any trees at all. You can cut up all the piles of oak limbs for fuel for the time being. Mamas, keep a watch on your older sons for now. We''ll have a talk about dryads as soon as we can."
"That should do it for now. In a little bit, I''ll start working on your farmland, and we''ll have a gopher hunt. Betty sent along a recipe for gopher stew, hope you like it."
Chapter 272: Hamlet Building
Ozzie was enjoying himself. He still wondered why Suzette and Ben had thought it necessary that he be the one to start leading families out to the open land by the unicorn fields. Over the years of working with his friends, he''d learned that you sometimes just went along with things and got the whole story later. If they needed him to get together a crew and start building hamlets, that''s what he would do. The sun was high; there was a mild breeze and just a few clouds in the sky. And a day spent out in the fields helping people to homestead would feel good.
The day hadn''t started out that way. The families he met up with at Rowan Keep were in rough shape. They were scared and unsure of their future, and the adults showed signs of stress and extreme fatigue. Some had injuries or burns, and they had been worse earlier. The Courier had spent all of his mana healing the worst wounds. Ben and Rolly had given him a brief rundown of the chaos around Northguard that had driven out so many peasant farmers. The situation stunk. At least one corporation was in bed with the Baron of Northguard. Everyone called him PinchPenny, and his family''s miserly ways had been legendary for generations. So far, over 500 refugees had shown up at Rowan Keep, with many of them helped to safety by Rolly and Ben. The Legion was overwhelmed with feeding and keeping them safe, and they were slowing the construction of the new keep.
In trying to hurt the Baron of Gadobhra, someone had decided to hurt hundreds of people whose only crime was to be on the low end of the social ladder. After spending an hour at the keep and working on setting up the little caravan he''d been leading, he''d had to walk off into the woods. He was becoming angry and didn''t want to scare anyone. Part of him wanted to walk to Northguard and start tearing down the walls. It wouldn''t help; he knew that. So instead, he sat down, leaned against a rock, and looked at the forest. Ten minutes of deep breathing and watching squirrels chase through the trees had made him feel better. He felt himself slipping back into his role as The Friendly Local Butcher, who didn''t do scary things or get angry. He returned to the wagons and checked that everyone was ready to go. Once on the road, he''d been able to start enjoying the day, and by the time they got to where the first hamlet would be, he''d almost forgotten his anger. And he was certain that a time would come when he''d get a chance to vent the rage he pushed down. Suzy hadn''t been happy when she found out about the situation.
Suzette had been upset when she''d heard from Rolly and Ben about the refugees. Clearing the construction zone at Rowan Keep was important, but her primary concern had been where the people would go. She''d devised the idea of settling them all near Sedgewick and pitched it to Billy. She pointed out the profits to be made. The game allowed for multiple harvests in a year. With fertilizer and higher-level farmers using magic, some contract workers were harvesting fields every month. If these people could even be half that productive, they''d provide a steady income for ACME of grain, corn, tobacco, and food to feed the contract workers in Sedgewick. He''d taken a few minutes to think it over. She could see more wheels turning in his head.
The Baron had agreed. It solved one problem, and Suzette assured him she could make the new hamlets profitable. She quickly found herself in charge of yet another project. Billy liked profit, and he wasn''t about to turn up a chance to put the risk on someone else. He stuck her with the responsibility of turning a profit. The new hamlets and farms were part of Sedgewick, not Gadobhra. Billy would take a cut of the profit, and Suzette was responsible for any losses. As soon as she had agreed to do it, she''d gotten a quest.
|
Extending a Helping Hand
You''ve offered to house and feed 500 refugees driven from their homes in the south. Commendable, but it''s easy to say and harder to do it!
Requirements:
-Led 500 refugee peasant farmers to the Promised Land. (Or at least the land you are promising them.)
-House 500 refugee peasant farmers.
-Clear 500 acres of farmland.
-Construct five small hamlets with a well, town square, 10+ houses, community storehouse, and roads connecting them to Sedgewick.
Success will be rewarded by building points for Sedgewick and Gadobhra, increased options for Sedgewick, and increased trade. Duke Carl will look more favorably upon Gadobhra.
Failure will incur the wrath of the Baron as he tries to deal with increasing banditry within the Barony and the distrust of Duke Carl.
|
She had shared the quest with Ben, Ozzy, and Rolly, along with her new tab for building hamlets.
| Current Options for Spending Sedgewick Build Points on Hamlets |
|
|
| Description |
Infrastructure Needed / Requirements |
Build Points |
| Town Gates (Wooden) |
Wood planks |
10 |
| Shabby Wooden Walls (basic walls of wood, planks, wattle, and dung, or thatch) around Hamlet Perimeter |
Wood, scrap wood, thatching or clay and goat shit. |
100 |
| Protective Thorn Barrier around Hamlet Perimeter |
30 feet deep area |
50 |
| Signal or Lookout Tower |
wood and land |
10 |
| Large Barn |
wood and land |
20 |
| Lighted Town Square with oil lamps (must provide oil) |
None |
100 |
| Store House (Foodstuffs, grain, oil, water, wood, coal.) |
Room in Town |
50 each |
| Artesian Well |
1 Shovel |
10 |
| Town Square |
Land, stone |
20 |
After looking them all over and making a written copy of the list, Ben had some ideas. "I like the new options. Some of the workers are asking about moving out of the barracks and building houses. Several couples are in long-term relations. With years left to go on their contracts, they''d like to have their own places to live. This could make it easier. We could expand near Sedgewick or put small hamlets near the quarry or closer to farms and forests."
Suzette was eyeing the large chunk of building points in the Sedgewick account. "I''m going to spend points to get things rolling. It''s a gamble that the quest will pay back more than I spend, but in the long run, this is what building points are for. They let us do something almost instantly. We could take the time to dig wells and do the basic construction on a town square, but time is something we are short on. Every day the refugees are at the keep is a half a day''s construction time lost trying to work around them."
Suzette decided to jumpstart the construction by giving each hamlet a Town Square, Artesian Well, Store House, and Protective Thorn Barrier. That came to a total cost of 520 building points out of Sedgewick''s total. As soon as she had done that, she gained an option to upgrade the Thorn Barrier to a Thick, Thorny Berry Vines for 5 points. That raised the total to 545 building points and only a sliver of the points she had in her account.
The next problem was food. Sedgewick fed 200 contract workers each day. Adding 500 refugees wasn''t easy. Betty had demanded another set of ovens and three people to help her with baking bread. To everyone''s surprise, Runt volunteered, working twelve hours a day and doing the job of two contract workers. Betty rewarded him with as much food as he could eat and baked him special treats. The ex-minion thought it was a great deal. He wasn''t working nearly as hard as in the dungeon, where he only got a couple of beetles each day to eat.
Barrels of smoked meat, ground groats, and fresh bread was sent to each storehouse. A load of apples from the dryad orchards provided some fresh produce. The storehouses below Sedgewick were raided for bags of flour, cooking oil, cornmeal, and pickled vegetables. It was enough to get the people through the first two weeks and give the village time to gear up food production.
Over the last year, the amount of food Sedgewick needed to import had dropped as their fields increased and the contract workers with the Farmer class progressed in levels. A level 10 farmer could produce five times what a level 1 farmer could. And that was without specialized Enhancements. Skilled Provider and Abundance were skills that could help nearly everyone. As some farmers started gathering in harvests ten times bigger than expected, Suzette purchased more and more of the magical storerooms with the town''s building points. She''d been up to 12 when Ozzy got back. After gaining 12,500 points, she purchased 38 more, turning the underground area from the barracks to the brewery into a vast network of storerooms for grain, vegetables, alcohol, and meat. Delbert became progressively more powerful as he strained his refrigeration abilities to keep some of the rooms cold. Now that stored food was being used to feed the refugees until they could grow their own.
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Originally, Ben, Rolly, and Suzette had planned to help with the new Hamlets. The unwelcome arrival of imperial bureaucrats had changed things. Immediate plans were made to deal with them, and Ozzy was put in charge of the Hamlet building crew. Partly because of two artifacts he had in his bag and somewhat to keep him from killing annoying tax collectors. The plans they quickly put together involved using Suzette as a stalking horse to draw out their intentions.
The crew of people Ozzy had recruited as builders arrived and got to work. Makken was an old hand at stonework, as most dwarves were. He could shape a rock to fit a gap just by glaring at it and needed no mortar to make a tight chimney and hearth. Wagonloads of stone were delivered to each building site, and the Peppermancer got to work while two stone cutters laid a basic foundation for each house. Wood they had in abundance. Oak beams and logs had been stacked high in this area to season. and Cham arrived and began cutting the beams for the foundation and frame of each building and the boards needed for the floor and siding. Sedgewick had eight carpenters. They split into two teams of four and started work on two farmhouses as soon as the stonework was done.
The refugees looked on as the two houses were started or helped to move lumber and stone to each building site. They all knew how quickly high-level craftsmen could work, but they had never seen people able to carry so much weight. Piles of lumber, large beams, or stacks of stone bricks were tossed around like bundles of hay.
The first two homes took shape. The chimney and hearth were on the side and near the front of the house where the cooking would be done. A high, peaked roof gave room for a loft covering the main room''s back half. Older children slept upstairs, leaving two rooms on the side for parents and a nursery. Along the other side would be a large pantry and storage. The back of the house, with the lower ceiling, looked over where the gardens would be. Plans included a window with nine panes of glass, which would be delivered later. With four carpenters working together, they had the house frame done in an hour, hammering away constantly. Another hour and they finished the floor, siding, and roof. The inside of the house would need a lot of sanding and finishing work. Getting the basics done to provide a place to live was the goal. The first team to finish took a little over two hours, and the other group wasn''t far behind.
Ozzy and Woodrat beat them by thirty minutes.
As Dave, Clara, Seth, and Sarah took a beer break to look over their work, they spied Ozzy and Woodrat, starting the frame of their second house at the far end of the hamlet. No nails were used, and their tools weren''t a hammer or saw. Ozzy held a massive axe in one hand, using it like a carpenter''s hatchet to make the notches needed to fit the wooden beams together. He concentrated as he placed each beam, and smoke poured from his hands into the wood, fusing the two pieces. Captain Woodrat was ten times faster than Ozzy. Taking large pieces of wood, Woodrat cut foot-thick beams with one slice of an enchanted sword. Each piece of timber warped into the shape he needed as he infused each beam or plank with smoke. The four carpenters walked over and stared as the two Captains continued their work.
The workers in Sedgewick were used to people with high strength, and many of the workers were above ten. So, seeing Ozzy lift two logs needed for a ridge beam wasn''t unusual. Seeing him fuse them into one shaft using magic smoke was beyond their experience. And watching Woodrat work was another thing entirely. Woodrat was clearly having fun as he added his ideas about what a proper farmhouse should look like, even though Ozzy had needed to explain to him what a farmhouse was before they started. The back of their first house had a bowed wall of windows similar to his Captain''s quarters on the Splinter. There were built-in sea chests that doubled as benches and followed the curve of the window. Each room on the side had rounded windows like portholes with heavy shutters. The wood around the completed hearth was dark with infused smoke and fireproofed. Unlike the other partially completed houses, all of the wood was smooth and fitted tightly together. Woodrat only had to wave a hand, and his smoke ran along the surface of a floor or wall, smoothing the splinters and rough areas, leaving the wood smooth and with a slight luster.
Ozzy laughed silently as they watched Woodrat leap around the construction site and show off what a Wood Wright from the Smoke could do. The wood in the conjunction was easy to smooth, and Woodrat had decades of experience and the power of a Captain to back his skills. He deserved to have some fun showing off his hard-earned skills. The houses he and his apprentice built were tight and smooth, with beautiful woodworking inside and a roof that wouldn''t leak. The carpenters walked around the completed house, commenting and appreciating the work.
After seeing how skilled Woodrat was, Seth made a suggestion. The carpenters and Ozzy worked on the basics of the next house under the Captain''s direction. Woodrat concentrated on fixing any cracks, making each house a solid home to live in, and adding small improvements as he thought of them. By the end of the day, the first hamlet had ten farmhouses ready for families to move into. They lacked furniture, hinges, and glass for the windows. That would be done over the next few days as Rufus poured the needed glass panes. But they were much better than a drafty wagon or the cold ground.
Woodrat found himself to be very popular. Many farmers'' wives requested additional shelves, cabinets, and other home upgrades. Never having been called on before to show off his abilities for such an audience, the Wood Wright went all out, improving each home to its owner''s needs. Two fathers were asking about apprenticeships for their children. Woodrat listened to them and nodded. But he tried to explain that a ship sailing on the Smoke would prove both difficult and dangerous for an unskilled lad or lass from the conjunction.
Ozzy declared a break for dinner, and afterward, they would do a gopher hunt and start clearing some land. During the meal, Jonathan found out that the wives had held a meeting and decided he would get the job as mayor of their new hamlet. The men congratulated him and were secretly thrilled the job hadn''t fallen on them. The new mayor was pushed to ask what precisely a gopher hunt was.
The Butcher opened the large bag he always carried and brought out a hammer and a plow. Jonathan backed away two steps, something telling him not to get near either of the tools. Both had a sinister aura about them. The hammer was a giant mallet with a wooden head over a foot in diameter. The plow was bright and sharp. It looked like an ordinary plow but with a sword instead of a normal plowshare. His eyes were drawn to the edge, where he saw it had carved a groove in a flagstone. Any fool could see that the items were magical.
Ozzy picked up each in turn and explained them. "I won a bet a while back and picked up some odd items. This hammer can drive out gophers and moles from the ground in a big circle around me. It usually kills them as well. And we know lots of ways to cook up gopher, as long as they are big enough. The kids can run around and collect the carcasses. The fun starts if we get a named gopher. They''re too small for me to gain points from and can''t hurt me. I thought maybe you and some other farmers could whack them with an adze while I keep them under control. A few Enhancement Points go a long way when starting out."
Jonathan was staring at the hammer, and was suddenly both very scared and excited. Points were hard to come by. Even when a small named creature invaded the village''s lands, the farmers were told to run away and not fight them. Guards from the keep would come and claim the kill and collect the precious points that came from killing even a small boss monster.
Things worked differently here. Much differently. He was being offered a chance at some points and a somewhat safe way to get them. He''d never been in a fight with a monster before, but Ozzy was correct that some of the magical points could mean the difference between a poor harvest and having extra food to sell. The richest farming families he''d heard of had sons and daughters with an Abundance skill or a talent for Earth magic. He was scared but wouldn''t pass up a chance like this. "That sounds good to me. I''ll get people ready whenever you want to start. But what does the plow do?"
"Oh, it''s useful but not nearly as much fun. I can use it to level out some farmland and save you some time. Using it takes a lot of stamina, but it makes a nice field. I''ll do twenty acres in three of the hamlets today. The plow can level out the land, break up the ground, and stack all the rocks around the edge in just a few minutes. I just run along behind as fast as I can and guide it. Jon and Cham will convince the stumps to go away while we hunt gophers. By the end of the week, you should have 100 acres of farmland ready for planting."
"One of our town planners, Benjamin, suggested using a system called Long Lots. It was popular in a place called France that he visited once. Each Family will start off with a long field, two hundred feet wide and half a mile long. That gives you about ten acres to farm, starting out. We''re going to leave a lot of space between each Hamlet so we can expand the fields later. We should have the hundred acres around each Hamlet cleared by the end of the week and all the houses built."
Jonathan waited for everyone to start laughing at Ozzy''s story, but it didn''t happen. Eventually, he said ''Thank you.'' again and got people ready to hunt gophers.
Hammer of Gopher Thumping (Legendary)
It was created by an unknown smith during the South Farthing Gopher Wars. This enchanted Warhammer will do double damage to gophers and may be ¡®thumped¡¯ upon the ground once a minute, which forces any rodent within 100¡¯ of the wielder to appear above ground and take 100 crushing damage.
Vorpal Plowsword +3 (Legendary)
At one time, this legendary sword could slay armies with a swing and brought about a time of great peace in the empire. The hero, Cathbert, retired and vowed to have it forged into a plow. While it still looks like a sword, it is indeed a plow. Thrice per day, it will till the soil, weed, and fertilize the ground. Unfortunately, it drains the stamina needed to do the job the hard way. Each acre turned into cropland this way drains 250 stamina from the user. Cathbert did his whole farm in a day. Other people struggle to get 40 acres done in a month.
Chapter 273: The Great Gopher Hunt
Ozzy explained how gopher hunting worked. "I''m going to thump my hammer on the ground hard, and it will drive out all the critters living underneath. Most normal gophers won''t survive, but there''s a chance of having a bigger one down there. Those will be higher level and might even have a name. You have to be careful of them. Just run away and come towards me or one of the other workers. If we can catch them, one of us will pin them down and let some of you hit at them to gain experience and points. We brought along a few dozen extra adzes in one of the wagons. Everyone should grab one. You can keep them and use them on the farms, but today, they are the weapon of choice for hunting Named critters."
The blacksmiths had been forging adze for months, ever since the skill was found usable by anyone. Over time, the workers had upgraded from iron or steel weapons to magical Adze from chests or better weapons forged from Dark Steel and Ironwood. Ozzy had loaded over a hundred of the old tools in a wagon and began passing them out to everyone. They were one of the oldest tools humanity had used. They could strip bark, shape wood, and hoe weeds, and while not a great weapon, they were better than nothing. They were the worst weapon anyone had seen at 10% to hit and ten damage. But dozens of contract workers were at level 5 in the skill with enhanced STR, and everyone was required now to gain at least rank 5 and 5 STR. In their hands, the adze was a deadly weapon.
Gophers around Sedgewick were a hearty breed, weighing nearly two pounds. Many gardens had fallen to their appetites. Ozzy had spent some time before his vacation in the Smoke, clearing them out from farm to farm. It wasn''t a permanent solution, but it saved many carrots from being eaten by hungry rodents. Makken was the only farmer without a gopher problem. When Ozzy volunteered to clean the ground around his farm, the dwarf just laughed. "There isn''t a burrowing critter alive that can eat my peppers and live. But if I ever find one, I''ll knock it in the head and turn it into a pet. So keep a lookout for me."
Taking the Hammer of Gopher Thumping, and headed to the center of one of the acres set aside for farmland. It was a ferocious-looking hammer. The oak head was a foot in diameter and two feet long, had steel on both ends and a thick handle. If a god ever wanted to play croquet, the mallets would look like this. A square acre is about 200 feet on a side. The hammer had a 100'' radius when ''thumped'' on the ground. He planned to move through the area, clearing out the rodents and overlapping his hits to get good coverage. He could use the hammer once a minute, but it took longer than that to clear the surviving creatures, especially if he got a rare named boss. He slammed the hammer on the ground and saw the ripples move away from him. They kept moving, even after they hit the 100-foot mark. The farmers and workers were standing past that mark, and most were knocked over.
| The Legendary Hammer of Gopher Thumping is thrilled to be used by a mighty warrior that hasn''t neglected his gathering skills.
-Radius of effect is doubled to 200'' by Abundance 5.
-Chance of a Named creature is significantly increased by Skilled Provider 3.
Quest: The South Farthing Gopher Wars never ended; they just moved to other gardens. Stop the invasion of Gophers in your lands.
Success: Increased yield of crops in all ''Thumped'' lands around the new hamlet.
Failure: No carrots for you! Rampaging gopher hordes will eat anything you plant for the next two seasons before moving on to a nearby village. |
"Shit! Seth, grab a couple of people and guard the kids. The rest of you, pair up. One worker and one farmer as a team. Watch each other''s backs."
Ozzy stayed where he was, hoping that most of the critters headed for him, but having no idea what to expect.
The earth expelled dozens of dead gophers, moles, shrews, groundhogs, voles, and a lost Norway rat. Amidst the carnage were three hardier specimens.
Verminous Vole, leader of the Pack. Level 4 Named Boss. (summons, nasty teeth.)
Grue, Patchwork Gopher, a monster of science, Level 5 Named Construct. (Undead, Immune to Storm)
Goateater, Carnivorous Rodent, Level 4 Named Boss. (meat-eater, triple damage vs. herbivores)
The Vole saw Ozzy, gave out a loud shriek, and a dozen more large voles appeared around it, all level 2 monsters. Ozzy looked at it and sneered. "You need a dentist, and your mother was a half-ling," Verminous screamed at the insult and charged with his pack at Ozzy. The other two creatures charged the farmers. As they neared the Butcher, he unleashed Butcher''s Breath, frying the low-health voles and singing the boss. Verminous paused to summon more troops, but Ozzy strode forward and wrapped a large hand around its muzzle. The vole tried to bite him, but his rotten teeth broke on the Butcher''s tough skin. With one hand keeping the monster''s mouth shut and the other holding its back legs, Ozzy carried it to where the fight was going.
Goateater was quickly overwhelmed by three workers who were anything but herbivores and immune to its extra damage. They took a few hard kicks and headbutts but eventually pinned it down. Grue, the undead construct, was terrifying in its ugliness but slow. Jon and Cham controlled its movements with tough roots while two workers poked it in the snout to keep its attention. One by one, the farmers and older children came over and whacked at its undead hindquarters until it quit moving. Goateater and Verminous were dealt with the same way. As the last named was killed, everyone got a notice.
| Quest update: Stop the invasion of Gophers in your lands!
-1 of 10 Acres cleared of invading gophers.
3 of 31 (10d6) Named Bosses Cleared
14 of 14 Contract Workers have aided in this quest
37 of 101 Farmers have aided in this quest
3 hours until the sun sets, and you fail the quest |
Jonathan and everyone else were reading the quest. Half of the people looked at Jonathan, and half at Ozzy. Ozzy started walking to the next acre. Jonathon grabbed two friends he knew wouldn''t argue. "Go get everyone. Women and children, even the elders. Give each person one of the tools and bring them as fast as possible. We can''t fail this quest."
They ran for the village, and a steady stream of people came out, some excited and many worried. A few babes were in sacks on their mother''s backs. The workers organized a defensive line with the weakest people in the rear well past the 200-foot line. Clustered in front were the older men and children, protected by the workers. Ozzy waited for them to be ready before bringing his hammer down again.
Only one creature was standing this time, but he was an impressive specimen of gopher-dom.
| A Veteran Hero of the War has joined the Fray!
-Your Skilled Provider ability has helped get the attention of a mighty hero. Too bad he''s on the other side.
Gristlefang GopherHero, Level 9 Elite Boss (Extra Health 5, Improved Constitution, Fast Feet, Rending Bite, Whirling Tail) Health 2000/2000
Kill the Gopherhero to gain credit for killing 6 Named Bosses! |
The veteran of a hundred battles looked at Ozzie, looked at the horde of humans at the edge of the field of his dead brethren, and charged at the herd of humans. A dozen crunchy deaths and Gristlefang could advance to level 10. He cursed his laziness for not grinding out the last level in Tier 2. The Butcher chased after him but didn''t have anything that could keep up with Fast Feets. The thousand-pound Gopher Hero bore down on the thin line of contract workers. A line of human knights could have taken the charge using their Stand Fast, or Here I stand! Skills. Contract workers only had their strength and willingness to stand in the way of the monster.
As Gristlefang lowered his head, three adzes chopped into his sturdy hide, chipping away at his health. He returned their attacks by biting Seth''s kneecap and removing his leg. Sara and Hans were knocked to the side as the Gopher broke the line. Seth collapsed with his leg fountaining blood. Gristlefang prepared his Whirling Tail attack. Once he pushed into the crowd of soft targets, he planned to spin and kill as many as possible. What he wasn''t prepared for was Captain Woodrat, and a howling sword called Dreadfyre. The sword hadn''t killed anything in days and was hungry. Woodrat slashed across Gristelfang''s face, taking out an eye, then stepped past the giant rodent, pivoted, and swung at the base of the armored tail. Woodrat had seen far too many Bilge Rats use the Whirling Tail attack before and knew how deadly it could be. His sword cut through the tail, pruning the Gopher and depriving it of easy kills.
The beast was stunned by the pain and the unexpected loss of its best attack. Woodrat danced around it, taunting it and giving the farmers time to move. Several workers landed heavy blows on the creature. "Can''t catch a little Captain, can you? You''re just like every rat I''ve ever fought, no staying power." Woodrat smiled at Gristfang, and the Gopher lunged at him, only to be stopped short as a thick black chain wrapped around its hind legs, dragging it out of the fray.
"Get over here!" As Woodrat kept Gristlefang''s attention, Ozzy used his enchanted chain and greatly enhanced Chain Drag skill to pull the GopherHero back from the fight. Gristlefang spun and lunged at the Butcher, biting deep into his shoulder in an attempt to use his Rending Bite to tear off Ozzy''s arm. The Butcher was too tough. His mitigation and Armored Apron reduced the bite to only a couple hundred damage. He was bleeding, but it was a minor wound. His other arm wrapped around the Gopher''s neck, and he flipped the creature to the ground like a small sedge beast. Back legs wrapped in chains, on its back, and a large Butcher forcing his weight into its chest, the creature was pinned. It tried to chew on Ozzy''s shoulder but could get no leverage. Woodrat was there to help, hamstringing the beast an forcing his sword into its jaws to make it release Ozzy. Within a minute, Gristlefang was hogtied and on his back, unable to move.
Ozzy stood up, making sure the Boss couldn''t escape. "Line it up, folks. I want every person who can hold a weapon to take a poke at this critter." The farmers lined up first, hitting Gristlefang in tender spots where they could do some damage. When one old woman was too weak to cause harm, the Butcher took her arm and helped her swing. She grinned at him as she stepped back. "Bless you, son; I always wanted to be a warrior when I was a little girl. You stop back by tomorrow, and I''ll have a hot apple pie for you."
After that, he helped everyone who needed it, including a two-year-old who was excited about ''wacking the monster'' and a babe only six months old who needed both his mother and Ozzy working together to help her make the swing.
After that, all the contract workers stepped forward and did damage, followed by Woodrat finishing the beast.
| Quest update: Stop the invasion of Gophers in your lands!
2 of 10 Acres cleared of invading gophers.
9 of 31 (10d6) Named Bosses Cleared
14 of 14 Contract Workers have aided in this quest
101 of 101 Farmers have aided in this quest
2 Hours and 27 minutes until the sun sets, and you fail the quest |
"Let''s get moving, folks. Same formation, but let''s put women with children or anyone who can''t run fast further back and put five of the workers and Captain Woodrat as a skirmish line inside the border. We have to move fast and clear the Named critters each time."
The following eight acres were cleared, with only two more worker casualties and some injuries to the farmers.
| Quest update: Stop the invasion of Gophers in your lands!
-9 of 10 Acres cleared of invading gophers.
29 of 31 (10d6) Named Bosses Cleared
14 of 14 Contract Workers have aided in this quest
101 of 101 Farmers have aided in this quest
0 Hours 23 minutes until the sun sets and you fail the quest |
"We''re almost done, folks. Just one more acre, and according to the quest update, only two Named Bosses. Let''s finish things and go have dinner." Everyone agreed with dinner. The day had started with a lot of work, and then the quest had popped up. Most of the workers were low on stamina, and the farmers were exhausted and shaking. Ozzy had a little over 4000 health and mana left, and 12000 stamina. His shoulder was a little sore, but it didn''t slow him down. He strode forward and slammed the Hammer down on the ground. And nothing happened except a slight tremble in the earth.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
| This isn''t my fault! You''re the one who took an increased chance of getting a bigger boss! I thought the last round would be two level 3 Gerbils!...#BlametheButcher...
Quest Update: An ancient predator has been roused from its slumber! Long ago, when herds of megatherium roamed these lands, the mightiest of them all was Ur-Sloth Bucktooth. Too powerful for the ancient tribes to fight, they placed baskets of poisoned berries by his den. They only made him very sleepy. He retired to his tunnels beneath the land, and no handsome prince woke him...until now.
Ur-Sloth Bucktooth, Level 13 Monstrous Megatherium. (Massive health, Slow but Dangerous over Short Distances, Burrowing, Dah Duh...Dah Duh...Dah Duh, Massive Regeneration) |
Woodrat looked, read the message, and cursed. "Another fine mess you''ve gotten me into, Mr. Ozzy!"
Ozzy yelled back at him as he looked around for the boss. "I just wanted to make extra sausage. No one told me about bonus gopher bosses!"
From all around, deep, slow sounds were heard...Dah Duh...Dah Duh...Ozzy recognized the tune and started running in circles, making it more challenging for the creature to get under him. It almost worked. He simply hadn''t known how big an Ur-Sloth was, or he''d have made his circle bigger. Bucktooth was double the size of an elephant. It erupted from the ground below Ozzy, its large teeth missing his leg but one claw scraping across the Butcher''s chest.
Bucktooth claws you for 400 damage. Your Hull of and Armored Apron negate 300 points of damage. You have taken 100 points of damage and are knocked down.
All in all, Ozzy felt that it could have gone much worse. He rolled away from the slowly moving monster that had erupted from its burrow. Bucktooth looked like a typical sloth, only a thousand times bigger. It had to weigh in at several tons. It turned its head to look at him, and a long tongue darted out a few feet, testing the air for scents, then turned and ignored the Butcher, heading toward the heard of small tasty things that it saw. Ozzy took advantage of the creature ignoring him to run up and strike at its hindquarters.
| You have struck Bucktooth the Ur-Sloth twice.
Heavy Flensing Hatchet base damage = 200
Bonus for STR of 36 = 180
Bonus for perk: Powerful =20
Bonus for Increased Weapon Damage =10
Total Damage = 410
Bucktooth''s hide negates 100 damage. Total damage = 610 Bucktooth''s Health: 99,390/100,000 |
Ozzy swore, using every curse that he had learned in the smoke. The thing had insane health. It would take a lot of hacking to work through it, and they only had half an hour left to finish the quest. "It''s slow but hits for 400, so be careful. It also has a shit-ton of health. We need to start whittling it down. Farmers keep away from it. Everyone else needs to do as much damage as they can. Woodrat and I will do what we can to get its attention, but we need to keep moving. Hit and run, and don''t let it hit you."
Instead of turning toward him, the Ur-Sloth started picking up speed as it headed toward the farmers. The wounds that his flensing hatchet had done had stopped bleeding and were healing over. Ozzy saw its health tick upwards to 99,600, then 99,800 before showing the creature was completely healed. He swore again.
"And it regenerates!"
Could they do a hundred thousand points of damage? They needed every bit of help they could get. As Bucktooth wandered away from him, Ozzy cursed the sloth to take an extra 10 points of damage from slashing attacks. He''d have to refresh the cantrip every minute, but between his axes and all the workers using an adze, a lot of slashing would occur. His next spell was more difficult but felt appropriate.
"You want to play shark with me? Here''s how a Butcher plays shark". Smoke and fire rolled off of Ozzy and became a great white shark. It raced after the Ur-sloth and began chewing on a back leg, taking out chunks of meat.
| You have sent your bound spirit to attack Bucktooth. Jaws of the Void does 200 points of damage +10 (increased weapon damage)+10(curse) =220 damage per round.
Void Damage negates Bucktooth''s mitigation. Bucktooth regenerates for 200 health. Current Health: 99,980/100,000 |
Releasing the creature cost Ozzy some heat and mana, but it would negate the constant regeneration until he turned on his smoke creation. Ozzy moved in and started slashing at Bucktooth''s exposed flank with his flensing hatchets. Woodrat ran forward, darting in and out, slashing at Bucktooth''s head when he could but mostly dodging the large, slow claws. The other workers moved in and began hitting the sloth.
Slow was a relative term. The Ur-Sloth was sleeping and just waking up. As the little gnats around him began to sting, he got cranky. He turned suddenly and swiped at Ozzy, sending the Butcher tumbling and doing another 100 points of health damage. Two of the workers took heavy hits from the thick tail. It hit like a battering ram, breaking ribs and half-killing them. The creature was so large that any contact with it would hurt. Ozzy had been knocked thirty feet away by the blow. As he started to get up, Bucktooth raced across the short distance to him and pounced. It was the same attack it had used to kill wooly rhinoceros and mammoths when it lay in the muddy spot near a watering hole and waited for its prey. The sudden attack would take the creatures by surprise and allow Bucktooth to wound them at the start of the fight.
Ozzy found himself pinned to the ground by the giant claws and lifted up to where the sloth''s huge teeth could grind him. His arms were pinned, and the Ur-sloth was stronger than he was. He unleashed Butcher''s Breath and hoped that Bucktooth was flammable.
| Butcher''s Breath
Base Damage: 150 plus 5xRAD = 300 damage
Mana Cost: 300 -40% (Aspect of Heat rank 8) =180.
You may increase the damage by +300 points for an additional 360 mana.
The fire in your belly needs to get out! Flames burst from your mouth in a cone with a 45-degree arc and 30'' length. Anyone within the area must attempt to avoid or block the fire. A successful save will mean the target takes half damage. |
Ozzy doubled the damage and breathed into the sloth''s open mouth only a foot away from him. All the flames that could cover 700 square feet of area raced into Bucktooth''s mouth and down his throat. Bucktooth suddenly lost interest in this food and slammed it to the ground hard, the creature''s pain and rage doing almost 1000 points of damage to Ozzy. Bucktooth turned around, looking for water, or a muddy wallow, anything cool itself off.
| Butcher''s Breath has critically struck Bucktooth for 1200 points of un-resisted heat damage. The flames have done Severe internal damage for a further 4800 points.
-Bucktooth is enraged.
-Bucktooth has lost the ability to regenerate damage.
Current Health 88,174/100,000 |
Ozzy sat up, trying to clear his head. Woodrat gave him a distraction by throwing a bottle of rum at Bucktooth''s face. The bottle broke and covered the sloth''s head in flaming rum. Woodrat turned and ran as quickly as he could, the enraged Ur-Sloth chasing him. Bucktooth quickly slowed down, unable to breathe right with his insides burnt to a crisp. Ozzy laughed and then realized they were running out of time. They needed some way to pin the sloth in place and hack away at it.
As Woodrat circled back around, Ozzy summoned his Trammelian chain, half as long and twice as thick. As Bucktooth moved past him, chasing Woodrat at a slow pace, Ozzy threw the chain and snared its tail, the chain wrapping around and around its midpoint, the meat hook on the end digging deep. The Ur-sloth came to an abrupt halt, and the pain made it turn to look at Ozzy. Bucktooth moved to attack, and Ozzy breathed fire at its face. The pain was intense, and the sloth turned away from the fire in an attempt to move away from the Butcher.
"Now, everyone inn. Boost your strength and lay into him¡ªno time to play it safe. The remaining contract workers attacked Bucktooth''s flanks with their weapons. It continued to try and run. When it turned left, Woodrat slashed at the face with his flaming sword, leaving long slashes. If it turned right, Ozzy breathed fire at it. Bucktooth was blind now, his tongue charred. With no sense of smell or sight, he tried to escape the fire, and lashed out blindly at the workers attacking him. Ozzy kept him in place as much as he could. The sloth''s health was ticking down, but so was the time.
He renewed both his curse and his Shark. The smoke creature had been chewing away on the same spot for several minutes now. Ozzy used the 30 Enhancement Points he''d earned for returning from the Smoke and bought two more levels of increased weapon damage. His damage to his axes increased by +50. Curse added another +10, taking him to 470 points of damage. Taking a deep breath, he used the new version of Push Onward that he had gained in Tier 3. He spent a total of 6000 stamina and boosted his STR by +15 and his damage by +75. His axes would now hit for 545 damage each.
He released the Trammelian Chain and leaped onto Bucktooth''s back. His shark had made a large, open wound on the Sloth''s back. Ozzy brought down his axes at that spot repeatedly, getting in four attacks and chipping away at the monster''s spine. Bucktooth reared in pain, knocking him off and spinning around to find the source of the pain. The Ur-sloth loomed over Ozzy, most of the workers knocked down by its sudden turns. Woodrat took the opening and leaped high, stabbing with his sword into the same wound Ozzy had made. Dreadfyre bit deep into the creature, and Woodrat hung off its back, swinging back and forth to increase the damage. There was a sudden snap, and Bucktooth''s spine parted, paralyzing it from the neck down. The sloth fell on Ozzy, nearly killing him with its weight. Pushing off a ten-ton sack of meat wasn''t easy, but he managed to crawl out.
Anyone left alive began attacking what was left of the creature. Ozzy cut a huge chunk off its hide so the farmers could wound it and then began to mechanically chop at the animal, dealing it blow after blow. He was so low on stamina that he was burning what was left of his health. But chopping meat is what Butchers do.
| Quest update: Stop the invasion of Gophers in your lands!
10 of 10 Acres cleared of invading gophers.
31+ of 31 (10d6) Named Bosses Cleared
14 of 14 Contract Workers have aided in this quest. 6 Contract Workers have survived.
101 of 101 Farmers have aided in this quest. 101 Farmers have survived.
You have succeeded in your quest with 2 minutes left until nightfall.
This chapter of the Great War is over. The gopher armies retreat, heading south.
The Hamlet of ?? (You need to name this place.) has earned 100 acres of gopher-free land with a +50% crop yield.
All Farmers who participated in the quest have earned 1000 experience in Skill: Adze and 1000 experience in STR, along with 15 Enhancement Points.
All Contract Workers who participated in the quest have earned 1000 experience in Skill: Adze and 1000 experience in STR, along with 10 Enhancement Points.
Captain Woodrat has gained +1 Aura and 10 Enhancement Points.
Ozzy, the Butcher of Sedgewick, has gained popularity with all farmers who hear of this battle, along with 1000 experience in Skill: Flensing Hatchet, 1000 experience in STR, and 10 Enhancement Points.
All participants have decreased popularity with gophers and other burrowing animals, and your names have been added to the Veterans of the South Farthing Gopher Wars list.
Bonus Objectives achieved:
1) Tier 2 Elite Boss: Gristlefang Killed. Reward: Wagon load of copper and cast-iron cooking gear.
2) Tier 3 Monstrous Boss: Bucktooth killed. Reward: +1 Storage Building, filled with 100 sacks of flour.
3) No farmers were killed in this battle, but a few will have large scars they can brag about at the local pub.
Reward: Local Pub to brag and say, "I was there!"
A large building suitable for drinking and dancing now occupies the end of the hamlet, displacing the storage buildings.
Storage buildings are now in the large basement of the Pub.
|
Woodrat sat next to Ozzy in the dirt and leaned back against the carcass of Bucktooth. From somewhere, he produced a bottle of alcohol, took and swig, and passed it to the Butcher. Ozzy drank a third of the bottle of terrible rum, letting it burn down into his stomach where what little he had left of heat ignited it.
"Damn, but that was not a fight I expected today."
Woodrat laughed. "I don''t remember our fights in the Smoke coming with much warning, either. Nice to see the conjunction isn''t as boring as you made it out to be.
But I''m going to look at the bright side of things. I''m a Captain of the Seven, my place is in that pub drinking with these new heroes. You get to start butchering a giant sloth before the meat goes bad."
Ozzy sighed. "At least leave the rest of the bottle, then."
Chapter 274: North Farthing
Over large bowls of hearty gopher stew, the new inhabitants of the Barony of Gadobhra discussed what to name their new Hamlet. Sloth Hollow was proposed, but it was quickly pointed out that there weren''t any sloths left¡ªthe same for Gopherville and Shewburg. Still, most felt that the huge battle needed to be remembered somehow. Ozzyburg was proposed, but the Butcher was too modest to accept such an honor and quickly declined. Finally, someone suggested the name, North Farthing. "After all, this was part of the South Farthing Gopher wars, and we''re north of everything else in the empire." The name stuck.
The pub was, of course, dubbed ''The North Farthing Pub.'' The building was made of stone with a slate roof, similar to buildings in Sedgewick. It came with a few tables and chairs, a hundred crude clay mugs, and four barrels of beer. The local men were intent on drinking most of it that night. It would go a long way to easing the stress of the last two weeks and the terror of the battle. The women had one or two mugs each and then turned to the critical business of sorting through the wagonload of cookware. There turned out to be more than enough to supply each home with fine copper pots, large cauldrons for the hearth, and cast iron skillets. The extra was stored away for the inevitable expansion of the Hamlet as young couples married and new homes would be needed.
How to spend their points was a subject that took over much of the talk. The older children were asked not to do anything without talking to their parents first, and most agreed. Luckily, children twelve and younger needed the help of their parents to allocate points. Having the most experience with such things, Ozzy and Woodrat were asked endless questions. It turned out that everyone in North Farthing had the Peasant Farmer class. With hard work in a craft, their class could be upgraded to Village Blacksmith, Village Carpenter, and other classes that revolved around craft skills. Knowing that Ozzy spent a lot of time talking about the classes Suzette was giving and the possibility of training people in Sedgewick to take on those roles.
It boiled down to several choices for those who were full-time farming or taking care of the household.
Like Ozzy, they had the options for Abundance and Skilled Provider. Fully half the people dealing with the crops took these skills. An increased grain harvest and the occasional five-hundred-pound pumpkins could transform a lean year into one of plenty. Ozzy cautioned them that it would create more named creatures to show up in their fields. He told them about Root! and some of the treants that had fought in the War of the Oaks. The farmers saw this as a bonus, now that they were allowed to kill the little bosses and score points. There was a risk to it, but after being burned from their homes and harried by bandits to the border of Pinchpenny''s lands, being attacked by a giant turnip didn''t seem so bad.
The long journey had broken up some of the families. Two of the older woman, Alice, and Irene, were widows without anyone to care for. Gaining five points of STR and knowing how to use a weapon made them eager to do more. The only ranged weapon skills they had available were Sling and Peasant Bow. They took both of those skills, two points of CON, two points of DEX, and a hunting skill called Don''t Spook the Ducks. When they made it known that they wanted to learn more fighting skills, Ozzy suggested they head up to the Bunny Barrow. If they could gain some experience there, he promised they could join hunting parties in the Beast Woods and visit the Shrine of the Huntress. He''d also pass on their names to the squirrel hunters. Dot was always looking for people to fill out her party.
Other popular skills were Hardy Animals, Care for the Herds, Sturdy Plants, Scarecrow, and Better Barns for the farms. Some of the abilities of peasant farmers centered on their homes. Healthy Family aided with childbirth, staving off infection and disease, and quicker recovery when someone was hurt. Mistress/Master of the Hearth allowed the head of the household to channel their stamina and mana into their dwelling for small repairs and upkeep. Better Cooking 1, 2, and 3 were popular skills for any family. Being able to turn stones and a turnip into a tasty stew was an old peasant trick that could get a family through a harsh winter. With better food available the cook in the household could produce amazing pies and puddings on holidays. Ozzy was frankly jealous of the skill and wondered how it would work with smoking or grilling.
Four of the older children asked Ozzy about training to be Shepherds. Besides the benefits to the village of protecting their herds, they''d seen what a Shepherd could do to bandits. After hearing their stories, it seemed Rolly had made an impression on them. The Butcher suggested that they take the two skills that dealt with animal husbandry and then wait for Rolly to pay a visit to the village and give them more advice.
Ben has also had his admirers, as usual. Two girls wanted to be Couriers. Ben knew nothing about training a courier other than teaching them how to watch out for ambushes and how to ride a horse. He had them save their points for now. Once all of the families were settled he promised to set up a riding class. McTeeth had mentioned to him that he had a friend who had some horses for sale, cheap. He''d take the Baron''s spy up on that offer. Having a group of young people to carry messages around would be helpful, especially if he was going to be making longer trips.
Two lads and a lass kept Woodrat''s mug filled while they asked him about training to be a Wood Wright. The Captain tried to explain how hard it was to be on a ship in the smoke and the constant danger of monsters, rain, shipwreck, and the continual fight to keep your smoke and heat full. Ozzy noticed that Woodrat''s warnings had the opposite effect on the three of them. He couldn''t blame them. If you had two choices, and one was farming, then the life of a sailor on an enchanted ship might look pretty good. And hard work came with either job.
Ozzy took Jonathan aside. One of the children was his daughter Matilda, and they gathered the other two sets of parents to discuss the matter. "It''s hard work, as much or more as farming, and they can learn an awful lot. But it''s also dangerous. Woodrat and I spent some time shipwrecked before we got our ship, and it was one adventure after another. If they come back, they''ll be sailors in addition to woodworkers. They may stay here, or they might decide to head back to the smoke. But, on the other hand, Splinter is one of the best ships ever to sail the Smoke. Captain Woodrat is a good man and a lucky captain; he won''t lack people wanting to sail with him once he gets back to the Smoke. And I''ll vouch for the rest of the crew."
The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
A few hours after the sun had set, a strange caravan returned to Sedgewick. Three wagons were hitched together to hold the partly dismembered giant sloth. The Hamlet had kept several hundred pounds of meat, but the rest was heading to the smokehouse and the sausage grinder. The ribs were enormous, and Ozzy had ideas of keeping them in two huge chunks and smoking them slowly. He knew Butterbelly was going to be excited. Matilda, Rashid, and Sebastian were perched on the wagons as'' lookouts.''
Captain Woodrat had created a ''signing on'' ceremony for the three of them and had them sign their names to a contract. As soon as that happened, their class changed to Apprentice Seaman. Woodrat had looked over their options and told them to spend their points on Aspect of Wood, Run the Chains, Heat the Sails, Smooth the Deck, Make Chain, and Apprentice Wood Wright, Lookout, and Rowing. As they rolled up to the smokehouse and Ozzy began unloading what was left of Bucktooth, Woodrat took the three new members of Splinter''s crew to meet the rest. Rum was broken out, jigs were danced, and stories of the Great Gopher Hunt were told. It didn''t take long for the three teens to be overwhelmed by the situation and the rum. Derek and Mariah had them tucked into hammocks to sleep off the effect of the rum and get them ready for a long day smoothing the wood of the ship until it glowed.
Ozzy still had doubts about the wisdom of sending three young people to the smoke without all his training. He''d made sure that they packed their clothing and given each of them ten golden shells ''for emergencies.'' Joe set his mind to ease. "They aren''t going up there to learn to manipulate smoke and heat and cast spells. You had a tougher road to walk and won''t have to go through everything you did. Still dangerous, though; they aren''t going to have much in the way of smoke and heat. But I do have an idea about that."
He and Ozzy went up to the ship and shared a few rounds of rum. Suzette was ordering barrels of the high-proof alcohol through the Kallveks and sending it to Rowan Keep by teleporter. The crew was drinking it up quickly while they were on holiday. The wily merchant took note and planned to have a hundred barrels in his basement when the ship showed up next, ready to trade for goods from the Smoke. Joe checked the sails he and his brother had made and was satisfied they were holding up well. Not much would hurt the sails that didn''t destroy the ship outright. The two cyclones needed to shed much of their power or hide it from the gods. Splinter had been the beneficiary of some of that.
Joe took Ozzy and Woodrat down into the hull, and he held out an arm. "Have to do this with that special sword of yours; not much else will hurt me. Well, maybe those damned axes the Butcher brought back, but he might take off my whole arm instead of making a small cut." Woodrat drew Blackfyre and sliced into the smoke golem''s arm. Black smoke, so thick it looked like blood, poured from the wound and down onto the rum barrels stored in the cargo area. The wood soaked it up, the barrels turning black, and the rest spread though out the hull. The wound closed after a few seconds, and Joe breathed heavily like he''d done heavy work. "That will do it. Uses up some of my power and makes sure you''ll make the trip back and forth easier."
| One of the few surviving Smokejammers to travel the planes, the Auric hulled Splinter is blessed by the great Cyclones of the Smoke. So much smoke has been put into the wood of her hull that even her rum barrels carry a powerful enchantment.
The crew of the Splinter will gain a bonus of +1000 Smoke, +1000 Heat, and +1000 Fuel as long as they get their daily grog. This enchantment will slowly fade away without sampling some of the ship''s magical rum. The rum will lose its magic if removed from the ship. |
The crew saw the announcement and took it as an excuse to open another barrel of booze. Woodrat spoke softly to Joe. "I thank you for that. It will make my soft-hearted friend quit worrying about a few guppies running away to join a ship. It makes me worry a bit less as well. I feel my ship, and I owe you something for that."
Joe thought about it. It had been a princely gift. "Tell you what, cause some trouble up there for me. The gods and the Queens get too complacent about their place in the world. Jack does his best to give them problems, but he''s only one person. Shake things up some now and then cause some trouble, and we''ll call it even."
Woodrat grinned and shook the smoke golem''s hand. "Count on it. I''m not sure I could avoid trouble if I tried."
The rum drinking was interrupted as someone leaped from the smokehouse to the ship''s rigging before landing on the deck and bowing. "Apologies for breaking up your drinking, Captains, but we have a problem with an infestation of imperial bureaucrats. The baron and the mayor have concocted dastardly and clever plans that require the help of three brave and dashing Captains from the Smoke. I will replace you here on this fine ship and make sure that your share of the grog gets drunk."
Ozzy eyed Ben warily. Mixing his friend with rum and pirates could end badly. "What do they need from us? And I want your word that you won''t try to fly off with the ship."
Ben looked slightly disappointed because he had been wondering how he would accomplish just that. "I''ll promise as long as I get to go sailing before she leaves for the sky. She''s too pretty not to get a taste of her." He looked appreciatively around the ship. "As to your part in this plan, the mayor asks that you put on your fanciest pirate gear and go have dinner, the Baron''s compliments."
Chapter 275: Has anyone seen our scribes?
Theordis had not expected such a fine little Inn in such a small, out-of-the-way town. They had been greeted by the Innkeeper and his staff as if they were nobility and shown to quite comfortable rooms on the 3rd floor overlooking the town. Hot baths were already prepared for them, and dinner would be served in an hour. A bottle of wine was brought to each room, along with an assortment of cheese and fruit. Theordis cautioned them all. "This is all fine, and I''m going to enjoy the hospitality, but remember why we are here. I want one guard on the third floor, one in the stables, and two in the dining room."
The scribes had been given small rooms on the second floor. Each of those also had a bottle of wine but lacked cheese. Instead of an assortment of fruit, there were bowls of apples. No baths were brought to them, but they freshened up as best they could with the basins and pitchers of cold water left for them. It was more than they expected. Most of the time, they all slept in the same room or with the guards in the stables. An hour later, they waited for their superiors in the hallway to go down to dinner, but Theordis stopped them.
"You are not needed tonight, nor do I wish you following on my heels or having to look at the three of you. I see your sad faces enough as it is. The innkeeper will send something to your rooms." The taxmen descended to the dining hall, leaving three sad scribes on the 2nd floor. They all went to Kenneth''s room and took the wine with them. Dinner didn''t seem forthcoming, probably because Theordis had neglected to send anything to them. They opened a bottle and contented themselves with apples.
Davao smiled wryly. "Another exciting night in the imperial service. Another 17 years, eight months, and 13 days and I can retire to the good life being the top man in some wretched village."
"If it were this village, I wouldn''t mind." Kenneth had only seen part of Sedgewick so far, but it seemed clean and prosperous. The people working were pleasant and hardworking. He''d seen shops specializing in things that much larger cities didn''t have. It was prosperous, with the dungeons they had heard of attracting adventurers and producing money and magical items. Adventurers were a boon to any economy. They spent gold on anything they fancied, always assured that they could gain larger and larger amounts from dungeons and quests. And lately, that had proven true. The economy of the empire was changing, at least to his eye.
Vincent took a bit of an apple and compared its taste to the wine. They had to have some wonderful orchards nearby. "It won''t be, though. It will have 400 illiterate farmers, and you''ll only be a big shot because you''ll own your house and be the one collecting the taxes. You''ll pick out the best looking farmer''s-daughter for a wife and try to ignore your in-laws. I used to think we had a chance at advancement, but the system only works if you know someone. Otherwise, we''re stuck in a slow-moving promotional system that literally requires people to retire or die."
Kenneth twirled the wine in his glass and thought about the beautiful lights in the village square. "Did you notice the fairy lamps? My grandmother told me about them. They protect the town from monsters and are a sign of friendship with the Fae. The mayor is half-elven, do you think she knows the Fae? I always imagined I''d go traveling someday and meet exotic races and people."
"And drink their wine." Vincent had decided he needed to see the orchards. "I grew up making wine¡ªgrapes, of course. We had no idea you could make an apple wine this fine. But that''s obviously not something I''m supposed to talk about around my betters."
"You never learn, do you? You can''t be good at anything without either Manfred or Theordis being better. At least Manfred just tries to one-up you; Theordis has to kick you back down to the bottom of the dung heap." Kenneth was looking out the window. The fairy lamps of the village were glowing brightly, lighting the town. As the lighting changed, he caught a vision of a wonderful tree in the distance as tall as the sky. And then it was gone again. He opened the window and looked at the roof below. A short drop, a slide, and he could be on the ground. "I''m going for a walk. I want to see the lights and look for a tree."
Davao stood. "What? Don''t be a loon. What if they call and ask for us?"
Vincent followed Kenneth out the window. "We''ll say we went looking for the dinner that they couldn''t be arsed to send to us. Grab your bottle and follow, or stay here like a good little boy and dream of a fat farm girl you''ll marry someday." Davao hesitated for a moment, then followed.
All of them navigated their escape with ease. They were all under thirty years of age and got regular exercise. They wandered the town, drinking their wine and greeting the inhabitants. The town square had the feeling of a small party. People were talking and eating. They visited the little kobold and spent money on a fine dinner of some type of meat, vegetables, and spices wrapped in flour tortillas. They were happy to have the wine to quench the fire.
An hour later, they were walking in the meadows beyond the village, drawn further and further toward the small glimpses they got of the tall tree. The grass turned a lighter color and was speckled with flowers. Vincent knelt and took a handful of soil. It was fine and black, like the soil of his father''s vineyards. And the land was empty. Further on and they came to the orchards. Majestic apple trees grew in a wild orchard, with ripe fruit heavy on the trees. Each of them grabbed an apple and bit into it. Their senses swam, and the world seemed to have too many colors. They heard laughter coming from the trees.
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The hound found the three scribes lying in the grass with a bevy of young dryads enchanting them. He barked to send the silly things away, laughing and dancing. He barked three times and then kept watch. Just as their senses returned, the three young men saw a man riding toward them. His garments were of green and yellow silk, and he wore a silver coronet in his long golden hair. The unicorn he rode danced to a halt near enough that Kenneth could have reached out and stroked its silvery mane. "Greetings to you this night, travelers. Lucky it is that my hound found you. You might have ended up taking root and becoming part of the orchard." He smiled, and no one was sure if he was serious.
Kenneth bowed and kicked the others. He was trying to remember the rules. "You have a fine hound, lord. We are happy to make his acquaintance."
The Summer Lord bowed. They were polite. He was trying to remember the rules Suzette had given him for talking with mortals. ''Small talk'' was a tricky bit of diplomacy. "I am traveling but haven''t picked a destination. I will be happy to walk with you where you going. There can be ill things at night with sharp teeth. It is always better to travel in a group." The squirrels certainly fit that description. Several travelers had met their demise. These men didn''t have the look of warriors.
Vincent was very drunk, or he might not have had to courage to speak. "That''s our problem. We are headed nowhere, with nothing waiting at the end except a boring retirement."
The other''s mumbled similar statements. Alwyn looked into their hearts and saw discontent, hurt pride, and a longing for sunlit vineyards, a home in a fine village, and travel to other places. "Far be it from me to advise anyone. I''ve traveled odd paths myself. But if you don''t like the road you are traveling, perhaps you should find a better road."
Davao thought about that. "Difficult. I can see where I want to be but not how to get there. I like my work, but I want to have pride in it. I don''t want to cheat innocent mayors and work for men who only think of gold."
Alwyn looked at Vincent. "I want something different. I thought I wanted to move up to a better position in life, but I realized I was just getting away from my father. He would never give me land to grow my grapes and make my wine. Look at that land! The soil is perfect for vineyards. I''m half tempted to run to the Baron, but he won''t take in a scribe who worked for the people trying to extort him."
Kenneth looked at the tree. "I want to go someplace else. I want to know where that stair around the tree goes."
The hound looked at the Summer Lord and judged each of the men. The Summer Lord accepted his judgment. "Perhaps you might find your road, and mine are the same. I am Alwyn, Lord of Summer, and we should talk." The three scribes followed him as the unicorn led them to the tree, much farther away and much larger than they had expected. Around the tree they went, climbing the tree until they came to a villa hidden in the branches. "I bid you enter of your own free will. An offer I will make. You may refuse politely and leave or stay. The hound will ensure it is of your own free will.
The offers were simple. The Summer Lord needed three things: The first was a scribe to assist with the trade of goods to the Baron of Gadobhra. Someone to travel back and forth between his realm and the baron''s and arrange the shipments and keep track of the details.
The second was someone with a vision for his much-expanded realm. Alwyn had large areas of unicorn meadows, but he''d prefer vineyards. There was never enough wine.
Third, he needed a human steward to travel his lands and bring order to them. Humans were all the rage at court. The man he chose would need to travel and visit the realms of other Fae Lords.
"I offer this: A house here in my realm, three fine suits of clothes each year, a bag of gold on the king''s birthday, and an elven steed to aid your travels. In return, you will help manage my lands and my trade and obey me in all things."
Twitterberry was called to witness the documents and take copies to the Baron and the King. Plans were made for a quaint village, a twin to the one in the mortal lands. Finally, their new Lord asked them many questions about their former employers. They had many stories to tell, names to name, and small details to include. The details were sent to the Summer Lords'' ally, the Baron of Gadobhra.
Morning came bright and early in the lands of the Summer Lord. The hang-overs were fierce, but Twitterberry brought a cure for all of them. He and his Lord also suffered after conversing long into the night and drinking with the Baron. The ex-scribes walked out of the quaint house into the lands of the Fae and began their work.
Chapter 276: Captains Outrageous
Theordis was greatly enjoying his dinner. Nothing added to the flavor of food like the glow of victory. And everyone at the table knew who had been victorious and who got put in his place.
Geoffrey was still fidgeting in his chair and drinking his wine in gulps, upset over the timing. He''d been so close to closing such a lucrative deal. This would have made up for his failures to convince some of the friendlier corporations that they needed Imperial Storehouses. Alchemarx and Soylent had laughed at the idea and sent him on his way. Taking over the system in Sedgewick would have given him all the income he needed to live comfortably. Now he was sidelined in the discussions, hoping Theordis could throw him some crumbs.
It was a different story for Manfred. He was trying to anticipate the Baron''s next move. Making Sedgewick pay for the workers living in Sedgewick was a valid move, but only if the village could pay, which he was going to make sure it couldn''t. He was using the tax situation to squeeze out the mayor and get rid of her, but he would still have to pay the taxes. This was an Imperial Tax that any of the Dukes could impose as needed. And as far as he knew, the suggestion to use it had been brought before all of the Dukes simultaneously and was being implemented immediately. Few corporations had allowed their workers to ascend to Tier 2, keeping them in the lower levels the way a good landowner kept down his peasants. The ones who had been lax would pay the price, and none more than Baron William of Gadobhra. It was the uncertainty that bothered Manfred. He couldn''t collect his bonuses if the Baron didn''t give in. And if he did roll over to Theordis''s blackmail, Manfred owed him a cut of his prize and quite a bit of bowing and scraping. It was going to be hell dealing with the pompous jackass for months. With an inner sigh, he poured more wine for the three of them and listened again to Theordis recounting how he had handled the Baron and put him in his place.
As the senior taxman continued his story, the door to the inn opened, and three people entered. The first was a woman of striking features. Bright eyes were set in a tanned face with a strong jaw and a mouth that smiled more than it frowned. Her curled hair spilled out from an ornate captain''s hat. Her outfit was completed with a blue and white coat, ruffled white tunic, and white breeches. She scanned the suddenly quiet room and held the door for her companions, waving them in with a flourish. Manfred could make out her name and title: Captain Mariah, Windrider.
The second person through the door was a giant of a man. He wore a black coat made of heavy leather. Sharkskin pants were tucked into worn boots. A red tunic and leather vest helped a bright red sash hold in his ample belly. It matched the color of the red bandana underneath a tri-corn hat with an assortment of feathers stuck into it. Curiously, his large hands were covered in heavy dragon-scale gauntlets. Captain Ozymandias, the Shipbreaker, stomped into the room, laughing hard at some joke, and took up a station on the other side of the door.
The third Captain to enter was the smallest, but something about him caught everyone''s eye. He seemed to glow in the light of the candles, and his green eyes flicked around the room, noting everything. Tall boots made of supple leather came to just below his knees. His outfit was finely tailored in grey and black silk with a black broadcloth coat. Buttons, cufflinks, and even the buckles on his boots were gold. This was Captain Woodrat, The Baron of Cingo and Envoy of the Queens.
All three captains were resplendent in earrings and gemmed rings. Each wore a Splendid Ribbon commemorating some great victory. They strode into the inn as if it was a ship they commanded, and only after they nodded to the stunned crowd did people begin eating and talking again. The seating wasn''t to the giants liking. He casually pushed heavy tables aside and put the largest in a spot of his preference with three chairs. The captains took their seats in reverse order to how they entered. Three hats were tossed across the room to land on the antlers of a stag''s head, and they relaxed in their chairs.
The innkeeper was there immediately to greet them. "Welcome to my humble establishment, Captains. How can my family and I best serve you?"
"Rum."
"Lots of rum, and I smell something meaty cooking; bring good portions of that."
"And anything else tasty? Let''s try it all, and we''ll sort out what we like."
"You have pudding? I''ve always wanted to try pudding."
The woman held a small jewel from her pocket to the light. The deep red gem glowed with inner fires. The candles and lamps suddenly gave more light, and the fire in the hearth roared and doubled in size. "Payment for your services, good innkeeper." He gingerly took the gem, bowed, and raced into the kitchen to prepare their meals. Tankards of rum were brought first; then, an entire keg was set on a nearby table. A boy of twelve stood there, listening to their stories and refilling their tankards with rum when asked. The largest captain handed him a handful of gold. "For you, lad. You owe one piece to your father and one piece to your mother. The rest is yours to spend wisely or foolishly."
At the sight of the gem, Theordis had felt his jaw drop open. He closed his mouth and turned to Manfred, whispering. "That''s a gem from the smoke! I''ve seen them before at the Imperial Academy of War. Nothing better to top off a staff of a Firemage. We could sell that for quite a bit. We''ll make the innkeeper an offer on it later. And I wonder what else they have to trade or sell."
The innkeeper loaded the captains'' table with a leg of lamb, a sliced loin of pig, and a brace of roasted quail. The giant claimed the large tureen of onion soup and, disdaining spoon and bowl, drank from the tureen until it was empty. He set down the empty vessel, belched, and patted his large belly. "Good soup. Can you believe they use water to make it? I was amazed by some of the things they eat in the conjunction the first time I visited." He eyed the leg of lamb, but a sudden gust of wind carried it to the plate in front of another captain. She laughed at him and yelled to the kitchen. "Two more of these roasted beast legs, if you please; my lads are hungry." Within minutes additional legs of lamb appeared and were carried to the table.
Theordis looked at his pork chops with disdain. The innkeeper had neglected to mention the lamb or the quail when he had taken their order. He started to rise and approach the captains, but Manfred held him back. "Best not to disturb their eating. Those are hungry and dangerous people. Wait until the cheese and deserts come forth." Theordis would have argued and ignored him, but the site of the three captains eating with daggers that they waved around to punctuate their stories made him see the wisdom of patience.
An argument broke out between the three over the best place to leave a chest of gold.
"The ship is the only place for it. Secure as long as you''re the captain, and if you aren''t the captain, then your dead."
"Yes, I see the logic. But what if you don''t want to be dead? I prefer the traditional method of burying a fat chest. If things go badly, I can fly away and still be rich. Another ship and crew, and I''ll be off to get revenge."
"Nope, I''m going to keep mine with me. Secure as a ship, and I do like the idea of not dying to keep my gold. My little chest is always with me."
Captain Woodrat scoffed. "Except your little chest is now full. What will you do the next time we scoop up gold and pearls? They value the stuff here in the junction. I plan on bringing more with me next time."
Captain Mariah finished her rum and was given a refill by an attentive boy. She also slipped him a few sparkling coins. "You should bury it here in the junction. They have so much useless land here! No one will find it."
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Captain Woodrat laughed at them and then addressed the table of Taxmen. "You three look like merchants of some sort. Tell me what you''d do with extra gold and gems?"
Taken aback by the question, Geoffrey gave a truthful answer. "Well, there is always the gnomish bank." Manfred kicked him under the table and scowled. "What my sleepy friend meant just before he takes his drunken self up to his room is that a bank is adequate for someone who plays it safe and is averse to risk. For those who want their treasure to make them more treasure, there are much better ways to invest."
"Invest?"
Theordis picked up the thread. "Yes, invest. You put your money to work in a business of some sort. You own part of the business, and it makes money for you without you having to do anything."
Captain Shipbreaker drummed his fingers on the table, putting dents into it. "Like buying a coral mine and selling Auric powder?"
Theordis wasn''t sure what the captain meant but nodded. "Yes, but in a business here in the empire."
Shipbreaker scowled. "Bah. My uncle lost half his gold by buying a coral mine. The filthy merchant sold that mine ten times over."
Captain Woodrat laughed. "That''s what he gets for not reading the fine print, and please, my grandfather took a bath once a year. You can''t call him filthy." The captains laughed and clanked together their tankards."
"Don''t deal with a business. Deal with a noble and invest in their lands. They have Barons and Queens here, just as we do. There are advantages to knowing to who you handed your swag. And Nobles can''t run away like a sleazy merchant or tax collector can." They all nodded at her wisdom and drank again.
"I might know of a few nobles looking for business partners. If I may be so bold, how much gold are we talking about." Theordis hoped the amount of rum the three were drinking would make them amiable to a little business.
"This much." Shipbreaker snapped his fingers, and a chest appeared on the table. The legs creaked, and it nearly collapsed. The lid flipped open, and Manfred and Theordis saw a horde of gold that would satisfy most dragons. Well, small dragons. Golden shell coins spilled out, along with white and black pearls and flaming rubies.
Theordis could barely breathe. "Yes, that much would get the interest of a few nobles I''m involved with. How many years of sailing the smoke does this represent, if I may.?"
Shipbreaker scowled. "Hard to figure since it wasn''t a year. Call it a couple of months. We had a lot going on and didn''t spend much time scooping up gold and pearls off the beaches. So call it a month or less. I''ll need a bigger chest next trip. Who knew the conjunction set such a high value on this crap." He snapped his fingers, and the chest disappeared, much to the table''s relief.
Captain Woodrat chuckled. "And that''s the advantage of a ship''s chest. Mine is ten times the size and just as full."
"Can we not start comparing chests again?" Mariah looked at the two merchants. "Sit. Tell us about these nobles of the conjunction who would welcome captains of the smoke to trade with them. Although to be honest, we have an agreement with Baron William."
Shipbreaker snarled. "That''s the problem with being honest. But agreements can be broken for the right person and the right price. And they''d be gaining the anger of their fellow Baron."
"Not to worry about that part. We know people who are already very angry with Baron William and would love to pay well to bring your business to the south." Manfred winked at Theordis. Both men were feeling the effects of a day of drinking wine, and the tankard of rum that Captain Woodrat put in front of each of them wasn''t helping.
All three captains smiled. Captain Woodrat looked at the two taxmen, eyes twinkling in the fire and his aura flaring bright. "I like where this talk is going, gentlemen. Tell us about these nobles who are against Baron William and would like to dabble in the trade of goods from the Smoke. I might even talk with my good friend, the Summer Lord. The Fae are fickle and can change partners on a whim. Give me the names of these new business partners and where to find them, and my ship will visit them soon."
Talk of business went long into the night. The cheese was brought, and a dark, sweet rum to go with it. Then a dessert of strawberry pudding drenched in flaming rum and served with a light rum flavored with limes. Half a bell before the sun rose above the horizon, the captains bid farewell to the taxmen snoring with their heads on the table. They handed the innkeeper another handful of golden shell coins for his trouble, reclaimed their hats from the stag, and enjoyed their walk back to the ship. The innkeeper went to bed, trusting in his wife and daughters to handle breakfast.
A window was opened in each of the taxmen''s rooms sometime during the night, and two figures slipped inside. They argued quietly as they rifled the packs and flipped through account books, looking for information.
"It''s not that you aren''t skilled at running the rooftops. I''ve known that since the unfortunate misunderstanding when you dropped me naked to the cobblestones."
"Then what is the problem?"
"You aren''t a guild member. Sedgewick is part of Gadobhra, and I''m the Guild Master of the Thieves'' guild. We can''t just let anyone go around stealing things. That''s how misunderstandings occur. The Guild has taken pains to protect your tavern and many other businesses from random thieves. Even when our members steal, they give most of it back. It''s done for the experience, not the gold. The Guild is an integral part of society, working to build a better city."
"Nice speech, but I''m not buying it. You need more charisma and counter my jaded attitude. How much are guild fees?"
"You aren''t a thief. You''re a barmaid. Or a mayor."
"Despite running roofs, hiding in shadows, and dumping you to the flagstones?"
"How are you doing that? I swear, Contract Workers are so OP."
"OP, and yet I can''t even use a dagger, short-sword, or lockpicks."
"Like I said, not a thief."
"Let''s compromise then. I pay you ten gold in guild fees and get what I can from the guild. And I''ll show you a few not-so-secret ways to increase your skills."
"And if I still don''t like the idea?"
"I''ll follow you, figure out where the guild is, and kill you from behind. I''ll use a meat hook instead of a dagger. Very painful."
McTeeth remembered some of Gus''s wise words about queens and assassins. He wasn''t sure what Suzette was. But it was one or the other.
"You argue your point well. Ten gold it is, and welcome to the Guild."
In the stables, a tired guard slumbered in the corner as a man went about his job caring for their horse. Each one was given a thorough brushing and had the burs removed from their tales. A bag of oats, fresh hay, and plenty of apples made a good dinner. While he worked, he kept up a constant string of soft words as he talked to them and asked them questions.
By the end of his shift, he knew every place they had visited in the last two months. Most of the horses had only been ridden by this group from Wolfsburg to Northguard and then teleported to Rowan Keep. But one of them, a cute filly named Flurryfoot, complained about the fat man that insisted on visiting not one but three baronies before meeting the rest of his party. She had some complaints and comments on the stables and roads in each of those baronies and gave Rolly enough information to know where the fat man had been. The shepherd made sure each of his new friends was comfortable and promised to be back the next night if they were still there.
Chapter 277: A morning of friendly negotiations
Late night in Gadobhra. A large and rotted squash was launched towards the head of the demonic statue sitting in the middle of the open square at the city''s heart. Metal creaked, and a clawed hand intercepted the squash.
I''ve killed men for far less.
"Yeah, well, I''m disappointed. I''d hope that you would kill people for no reason at all. Humans will kill for the last piece of the pie. Squash to the face is a death penalty nearly everywhere."
And yet you risk it? And thank you for the information. I have upgraded rotten fruit to ''Torture for a week and then kill.''
"Testing your reflexes and seeing if you''re always awake."
And what is it my Baron needs from me now?
"I need a teleport stone. A big one. Or I need to know how to make one or where to steal one."
And why should I help? What is that to me?
"Because they''re screwing with me and screwing with my city. I don''t let anyone do that. I''m about to start hitting back hard, and that would help."
And what are you going to do to them?
"Drive them to bankruptcy and crush their souls. Show them they are ants compared to me. Make them grovel and beg forgiveness."
OK, now those are things I approve of. Vengeance and the crushing of souls. Very nice. You should dig down about ten feet North from where you''re standing now.
"Dammit! Are you saying there is a teleport stone buried here?"
Not quite. When the city was defeated, they shattered the stone, dug a hole, and buried the pieces. That is the best I can do. I hope you like putting together large puzzles.
"It''s a start. Know anything about how to make them? Fix them?"
No. I think we brought that one from somewhere else. How the old Baron made it work was not something, he shared with me. Probably a good thing. I''d be playing with it constantly, teleporting meat daemons and ghouls to nunneries. If you get an extra, you know where to put it and leave me the manual.
"Sure. No problem. I''ll be bringing back a crew to start digging."
I''ll let the charnel daemons and ghouls know. It will be fun to watch.
"Go ahead; the Butcher will be with them. He still has some anger issues to work out."
Sometime just after dawn, Geoffrey snuck downstairs. In the common room, he saw two guards snoring by the fire. The inn had yet to stir. He took a wedge of cheese and a half loaf of bread from a table littered with food scraps. His head ached from too much drink and too little sleep. As light filled the room, he felt foolish. He was letting dreams and night terrors affect his actions. He turned to go back up the steps to his bed and stopped as he saw the eyes in the shadows of the stairs. Red eyes glared at him above barely-seen fangs. A low growl came from the shadows as he started to take a step.
He turned and left, sure of what had tormented him all night. The shadows couldn''t follow him into the sunlight. At least he hoped they couldn''t follow him. He only needed to get his horse, and he could get away. Walking quickly to the stable, he hesitated to enter the dimly lit room. He was saved by the appearance of Lem, the guard they had left here to look after the horse. Lem already had one horse saddled and ready to go. An odd thing but an occurrence Geoffrey was happy for. "Good man. Saddle another. We are leaving."
Lem was very happy to hear that. "Don''t have to tell me twice. Damned nags are acting up, and some of them are whispering about me; I know it. Don''t believe a word they say, sir. You know how horses lie." He managed to find one more horse that he could deal with. They were off and riding for Rowan Keep moments later, neither talking about the reasons why.
Theordis awoke much too early. The bright sun was in his eyes, his room smelled like the chamber pot had been kicked over, and the wench he had paid to sleep with him the night before was asking for his attention. He mumbled to her to pull the drapes, but she insisted on making her grunting noises and nuzzling his neck. "Dammit, woman, leave off and control your passions." He opened both eyes and saw Manfred asleep in a feed trough a few feet away. The girl nuzzling his neck turned out to be a yearling pig. With an exclamation, he stood up, hitting his head on the top of the pigpen and knocking himself out.
Manfred woke a moment later from the noise and stood up. Through a pounding head and weary eyes he realized where he was and recognized the bare feet and snores of Theordis in the pen. "Even in a damned pigpen he somehow gets the best bed." He pulled Theordis out of the pen, managed to lift the portly man up, and dragged him over the fence. He found a wheelbarrow but couldn''t get his friend into it. Luckily, the village workforce was starting their first shift, and a smiling woman picked up Theordis and dumped him into the wheelbarrow. Manfred managed to push the cart to the inn and pound on the door.
The innkeeper''s wife crossed her arms and refused them entry. "You come to my door stinking of pigs and alcohol and want a room? I think not. Good day." Manfred finally made her understand that they had rooms already. He found his purse and offered her enough gold for a month''s stay. She relented, but only after the agreement that she could dump a bucket of water over them first to wash off some of the stinks. Cold baths were drawn for the two of them, and some fruit and bread were put in their rooms for breakfast. Both taxmen washed and then crawled into bed. The Innkeeper tried to wake them for the breakfast the Baron had provided, but they ignored him.
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At noon, a courier from the Baron pounded on their doors, yelling loudly and reminding them of their meeting with his excellency. They were late, and the Baron was angry. In a panic, the men dressed, crying for their scribes. Geoffrey was nowhere to be found, his room was cleaned out. The innkeeper''s wife reported he had been seen exiting the inn early in the morning, and leaving town with one guard and two of the horses. They cursed him as useless and went to yell at their scribes, collect their notes and contracts, and head to the meeting with the Baron.
Their scribes had not slept in their beds. Their belongings were gone, and the window in each room was open. The rooms were locked from the inside, and the innkeeper had to open the rooms. The only clue to their disappearance was found in Kenneth''s room. A large maple leaf contained a message written in silvery ink.
"They belong to me now and are happier because of it. Meddle not in the affairs of the Fae." The leaf changed into a hawk in Manfred''s hand and flew out the window.
Shaken, the men found their notes and contracts, woke their three remaining guards, and staggered to the tavern. When they entered, the talk died down, and quite a few angry eyes looked at them. A gnome eating his breakfast looked at them with disgust and turned his back on them. They hurried upstairs. Manfred was upset. "The Baron has turned the populace against us. I''m worried for our safety."
Theordis puffed out his chest. "He wouldn''t dare touch a hair on our heads."
"Oh please, tell that to our scribes."
The Baron and his people were in attendance. Stone-faced and unhappy. The taxmen sat at their end of the table. By agreement, Manfred went first. He handed a letter to Suzette. "As agreed to by the Baron, you are charged with paying the sum of 32,000 gold pieces in taxes by the end of the month. If you cannot pay, you will be turned over to the Legion to serve a term of not less than 20 years, and your goods will be used to pay the taxes. Please sign all four copies. One for your records, one for the Baron, one my records, and a fourth to be submitted to the imperial tax collection office." The cowering young lady signed, and Manfred countersigned, witnessed by the Courier and Theordis.
That done, Manfred leaned back in his chair to watch Theordis put on his show.
"Here, your excellency is a notification that I have deemed it necessary for you to install and pay for an upgrade to the teleport stone at Rowan Keep. After all, the number of troops it can house will be increased, and so must its ability to move those troops or bring more in. We must ensure the area is safe, and I''m sure you agree. If you don''t agree, you can appeal to Duke Carl or the Emperor. Appeals are running a few years behind, but that''s your problem, not mine." Again, all parties signed, and the signatures were witnessed. When it was done, Theordis smiled like a cat with a bowl of cream.
"And now we can talk about what it would take to make those pieces of paper disappear."
The Baron looked at his tax advisor. The man''s eyes were not human this morning, and to the taxmen''s horror, a large spider, the size of a dinner plate, descended from the ceiling to sit on his shoulder. He stroked its hairy body a few times before glaring across the table. "I don''t think so. The Baron is tired of your games and your insults."
"Last night, you sent three underlings to spy upon the Summer Lord. That is between you and him. The young men have learned a lesson about dealing with a Fae Lord. They are alive but owe him service. The Baron is upset that you interfered in a delicate matter of trade."
"And, it wasn''t the only matter. You interfered with the Baron''s arrangement with Captain Windrider, Captain Shipbreaker, and Captain Woodrat. They informed the Baron that they were off to, as they put it, ''Drink some different rum in a different port.'' The ramifications of this are unknown, but we will be protesting sternly to your superiors. Very sternly."
"And finally, a local sow has filed a grievance against you for disturbing her sleep and trying to seduce one of her daughters. Such behavior will not be tolerated in Sedgewick, sirs. You will be leaving now! Good day!"
The room grew quiet. Theordis cleared his throat. "I''m sure we can discuss matters. The Baron is very close to defaulting on..."
The tax advisor cut him off. "I said Good Day! And I meant Good Day! Do not make me raise my voice again, or I will feed you to my spider!"
An overwhelming fear hit the two men as the Baron and Baroness glared at them. They were out of the room, and out of Sedgewick, within minutes.
Billy turned to Ben. "You have a copy of each of those agreements?"
Ben winked at him. "They said they were the official copies that had to go to the office of taxation. I''m sure I can deliver the documents more reliably than those two. Just doing my duty to the emperor."
Chapter 278: The Long War
Ozzy awoke to the smell of pancakes and strong tea. He normally only needed four hours of sleep a night, but drinking rum with his fellow captains had strained even his metabolism, and he''d slept in. He was surprised he didn''t have a hangover. As he rolled out of bed, Suzette put two plates on the table, heaped with butter, strawberries, and pancakes. Hers with three, Ozzy''s with over a dozen. "You made breakfast; bless you."
"Breakfast? That was at 7 am, just after you went to bed. This is lunch. It would be best if you had something in you to soak up the last of the rum. The stories about you three drinking the inn dry and eating all the food are already reaching epic proportions."
"Well, I appreciate the food and the company. Hopefully, our late-night party helped."
Suzette rolled her eyes and laughed. "Helped? You should have seen those two drag into the meeting. They were so hungover they could barely move and smelled like they had slept in a pig sty. Rolly scared the hell out of them after we got the signed papers. They must be halfway to the capital by now. And they think they were partially successful in disrupting our trade deals. Yes, you three helped. I wish I could have been there instead of sneaking around with McTeeth."
"How did that work out? And what happened to the third guy?"
"He got scared of the shadows and left early. We have a lot to sort through now, but the picture is clear. You three got some names of Barons we''ve never heard of who doesn''t like Billy and want to see him fail. There were some notes in the paperwork as well. Rolly got the information from the horses that tell us where Theordis spent some time. And surprisingly, Alwyn sent over a lot of information."
"Hmm, Alwyn the Summer Lord? or Bob?"
"Alwyn. He wished to announce that he had taken three mortals into his household. They used to be imperial scribes. His letter said it was willingly and with no more magic done than showing them how to achieve their dreams. I''ll try to talk to them, but I don''t see him lying. One will even be running back and forth between him and Billy."
Ozzy finished his breakfast and grabbed his bag. "Well, good. I''m curious to see what gets figured out. I''m off to start clearing more farmland and start another Hamlet. Woodrat is going to bring most of the crew to help out. Some of the gophers got big yesterday."
"My brave gopher slayer. I''ll have dinner packed, and we can eat at Rowan tonight after you return from playing carpenter''s helper. I need to work more on the runes, and you have some heavy lifting to do for Jorges."
Woodrat yelled to Ozzy as he left the tavern. "Awake? Good. Get up here. No reason for a captain to walk when we have a ship that can be there in a minute. The second group of farmers is all ready there." Ozzy smiled and climbed to the ship. Ben was at the ship''s wheel and looking pleased with himself. As the Splinter began to move, even Woodrat was surprised at the speed. "What the bloody hell are you doing to my ship?"
Ben laughed and yelled back. "I''m a Courier. Anything I ride or steer goes faster."
They passed over the top of North Farthing. The road ran past one side of the Hamlet, with five long fields taking shape on the other side of the road. The thorn barrier was a thick green line surrounding the Hamlet, already growing. Once a front gate was constructed, the little town would have some basic protection from wild animals, bandits, or any of the other creatures that inhabited the area. The ten houses and tavern surrounded the town square, with room for gardens between the houses and thorn barrier.
Children ran below, waving at the ship, and Ben used that as an excuse to circle the town slowly before heading to the next Hamlet. Some of the inhabitants of North Farthing were heading that way, following the wagons that had gone by before.
Five miles flew by in less than two minutes, and the Splinter settled slowly until its keel was only ten feet off the ground, a hundred feet from the second Hamlet. Ben turned over the helm to Derek. "Thank you for the chance to be at the helm of this fine ship." He scorned the chain ladder and leaped from the edge of the ship.
Woodrat looked at him as he landed perfectly. Turning to Ozzy, he said, "That one has had a ship of his own before, you can tell."
Ozzy nodded. "Several. And wrecked as many ships as I have. "
"Really? Maybe we''ll take him along the next time you and I travel the Smoke."
Ozzy gave his speech like he had the day before. Living near Sedgewick had a steep learning curve, especially if you had Dryads, Fae Lords, and Unicorns for neighbors.
Work began on the homes similar to the day before, completing the hearths, chimneys, and foundations first. Woodrat took time to talk to each of the families, telling them what the house would look like and trying to use any advice they gave him. Of all the things that people asked for, a large table was universally popular. It was the work table for making meals and then serving them. In between, it would be used for sewing and all manner of crafts.
He put Ozzy to work doing the basic construction of the tables. The Butcher would join together four-inch thick slabs of wood until the top was four-foot wide and the overall length was ten to twelve feet. Two wide trestles would support this. This type of table had been made for hundreds of years and would last forever. They weren''t something that would ever be moved from the house. Once the basic work was done, the three new apprentices were given the job of smoothing every bit of the wood on the tables and accompanying benches. Finding out how useful this piece of furniture was, Ozzy said they would return to North Farthing and make them for those ten houses as well.
They finished earlier in the day. They had a better idea of what they were doing and more people to do the work. Over thirty people from North Farthing had walked the mile up the road to help out and take part in the gopher hunt. Ozzy had considered having someone else do the thumping. Someone without Abundance and Skillful Provider. But it was too good of a chance to give these people experience and points. He just hoped that he didn''t trigger another quest.
The first thump on the ground told him how misguided that thought had been.
| Not content with the lands you gained only the day before, you have launched a sneak attack upon a peaceful community of gophers!
The War is on again. We have dispatched Capybara Commandos under the command of General Jose P. Hoartigasia.
QUEST!: Stop the ten waves of Commandos and find/defeat General Hoartigasia and his command unit. If you can''t stop them within three hours, reinforcements of Lemming Shock Troops will overwhelm you and claim this village.
Time: 2:59:58
Generals Killed: 0/1
This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.Advisors Killed: 0/5
Commando Sergeants Killed: 0/10 |
Ten Level 2 Commando Capybara spawned led by a Named level 4, Sergeant Rootmuncher. The war for the West Farthing had begun!
Two hours, 46 minutes, and 34 seconds later, General Hoartigasia finally collapsed. The hippo-sized rodent had been surprisingly crafty. Ozzy had been very happy to have the additional fighters.
| Successful Quest!: You have stopped the ten waves of Commandos, defeated General Hoartigasia, and killed his command unit.
The reinforcements of Lemming Shock Troops have been deployed elsewhere.
Time: 2:59:58
Generals Killed: 1/1
Advisors Killed: 5/5
Commando Sergeants Killed: 10/10
West Farthing residents taking part in the war: 97/97, with 97 surviving. 14 Enhancement Points awarded and 1000 experience in STR and Adze.
North Farthing veterans taking part in the war: 30/30, with 30 surviving. 3 Enhancement Points awarded, and 500 experience in a weapon used in the battle, and corresponding stat.
Contract Workers taking part in the war: 12/12 with 9/12 surviving. 2 Enhancement Points if Tier 1, and 1 Enhancement Points if Tier 2.
Ships Crew...let''s be honest, they cheered you on and drank rum.
Additional building awarded to West Farthing: Choice of a Quaint Tea House or Small Pub.
West Farthing is awarded with increased crop growth and a Wagon load of copper and cast-iron cooking gear. |
Woodrat had been prepared to help, but he hadn''t been needed with the additional farmers from North Farthing helping out, along with the Courier. Instead, he put the crew to work making chairs and stools for the new Hamlet. After the final battle, they retired to the town square, where a large amount of food was already set out on newly made tables. Discussion started as to the benefits of buying different skills. The veterans of North Farthing drank beer and gave their advice with the wisdom gained from the first great battle of the war.
Ozzy left them to it. He took his leave and headed for Rowan Keep to meet with Suzette. It was going to be a long week, he could tell. He fully expected to be fighting Lemming Shock troops the next day. The reason for such a useful magical artifact being in Leroy''s bag was becoming apparent. He hoped to hell the plow didn''t start acting up.
Layla and Billy sat atop the ACME building, reviewing McTeeth''s reports on the new Hamlet. Billy was excited about how fast the farmers were being integrated. "This is going way better than I''d planned for. The farmers have all jumped one or two levels, and we''re barely starting. Ozzy had some crazy idea to start a war with gophers. We''ll have to head out to the last fight, congratulate folks, and let them see the nobility up close. Shake hands, kiss babies."
Layla had no use for babies. "Kissing children is all up to you; I''ll complement the victorious fighters. But as to Suzette, yes, she does her best work when she''s under pressure. If you had said, "Do your best." you might have had good results. But challenging her with making a profit and tossing all the responsibility on top of her, and she excels. Plus, it makes sense right now to keep expanding Sedgewick. Gadobhra needs more infrastructure first. And we need to finish the Keep. Think of the trained workforce we''ll have when that''s done. We can start immediately, rebuilding the central part of the city."
"But first, we need to solve some problems. I want to start dropping some economic bombs this week and stir up some shit." Billy pulled out a list and handed it to Layla. "We dump all of this on certain markets. It won''t affect their profits for long, but it will make them scream. Then we drop the big bomb."
Layla looked wistful. "I only wish we could be there to watch it happen."
Billy winked. "Don''t worry; I''m sure they''ll want us there damn quick. Maybe we should pack bags and sit on the teleport stone up at the keep."
"Dinner now? Or get to work and eat under the stars?" Suzette had met Ozzy as he jogged up to the keep, his bag slung over his shoulder.
Ozzy could already see Jorges walking his way, a smile on his face. "I think it''s going to be a starlit picnic. Probably best if I''m not tossing around ten-ton slabs in the dark. I''ll give him a few hours and then we can take a break."
Suzette headed off to her own work, after leaving her basket in the shade of a wall. A minutes work put a small hermetic seal around her food that would keep out ants and picnic thieves of all types. Today she was working with Aleister. He had his portable alembic and crucibles set up, heating the molten silver they used in the runes. Carving a rune in the stone was good. But filling the rune with molten silver was more powerful. It created a channel for the mana to quickly move from one part of the seal to another so that even if an army put all of its efforts into attacking one wall they never found a weak point.
Filling the runes took as much time as carving them in the first place. A set of crucibles burning charcoal melted the silver, the molten metal flowing through ceramic channels to the alembic which separated or burned off any impurities. Silver coins from dungeons were purer in content than the silver coins made by the empire. With multiple dungeons, there was no shortage of the high quality silver they needed, provided the Baron had enough gold to exchange for it. The hunting expeditions to the Menagerie had provided a large amount of gold at first, even if the novelty of the hunts were wearing off and fewer and fewer of the rich Fae Lords were returning. The parties were always full, but Bob was charging a lower price to Fae who didn''t have bags of gold to throw around.
PHzero and Zephyr were in charge of the alembic and crucibles. Aleister and Suzette took turns pouring the thin streams of metal with steady, dexterous hands. As the silver cooled it began to glow, as the mana held in the finished runes flowed into the new ones. Foot by foot, the line of runes and magical script entwined with the symbol of Hermes, advanced around the perimeter of the fortress. The perimeter of the walls protecting the ten acre fortress was a little over a mile in length.
Each foot that the pattern advanced took 100 cubic inches of silver. Silver coins were common from dungeons, but it took 2096 coins to make a cubic foot of silver, weighing 650 pounds. Each foot that the pattern advanced took 100 cubic inches of silver. Every 17 feet took 1 cubic foot of molten metal weighing 650 pounds. To complete the entire perimeter of the fortress would take over 300 cubic feet of metal weighing 100 tons. Half of the silver came from coins from the dungeons, the other half Billy had to purchase through the Kallveks, teleporting the silver bars to Rowan Keep. The entire cost came to a little over 8000 gold coins.
As Billy looked at the mounting costs of the fortress, he grimaced. "Remind me why we just didn''t pay the taxes again? This may end up costing more."
Layla reminded him. "We didn''t have the money. You hate paying taxes. We want to train a group of people who can rebuild a city. And we want to become rich supplying the Legion with buildings. The next one is going to cost them a lot more."
Interlude: Pomeline
Nothing at all lives forever.
Every tree know that, deep in their roots, from the time they sprout from a seed. But no one thinks of death in the spring as new branches grow strong and buds turn to fruit, and new life forms in the heart of a tree. Summer brings the sun that beats down on mature branches, and the moon which entices a young dryad to dance with her sisters. Autumn is the harvest, sharing a fruitful year with the creatures that come for the festival. They celebrate and dance with the young girls from the trees, while the older dryads watch and enjoyed the last rays of sun.
And then winter comes.
Winter brings the cold winds that can freeze limbs, and ice that can snap them. Parts of a tree lived, and parts died. A tree could survive many winters, but someday an injury would reach their core and injure the dryad living there. Many dryads die in the winter. Without the dryad, the tree would not survive the cold. In the spring there would be a gap in the orchard that a new tree would fill. Trees, and the dryads who loved them, knew that winter could mean death.
But it wasn''t the only way a tree could die.
Fire and axe could kill a tree, the dryad fighting until the end to save it, both perishing at the same time. Humans were never fully trusted because of the axes. And these weren''t the cruelest deaths. The worst death was when the tree died, but the dryad was young and healthy, and somehow survived. The sky could do that. When cyclones and wind played with the thunderheads death could come from the sky, striking the tallest and healthiest of trees, charring young top branches before traveling down the sap to the roots, and exploding the tree from inside. It didn''t happen often, but when it did, death came so quickly that the dryad might be a step away, and survive her tree''s demise.
This was how Pomeline met death. A bright flash separated her life before as a mature dryad with many seasons left to her, and in the next heartbeat having no tree to share her life with. The dryads called it the half-death, and felt it was the cruelest death of all. Winter was coming, and without a tree to shelter her, half-death would become true death, and Pomeline would take her last apple down to Hades and present it to his wife, Persephone, before finding a spot to sit in the shadows. Without the bond of a tree, she could not return to the cycle as a dryad.
Her sisters visited, but they had little to say, and visits were brief. Pomeline''s fate scared the young ones. Only the old crone''s understood.
Pomeline stayed with the remains of her tree, shattered and flash-burnt by the lightning, sleeping next to it and suffering the weather as autumn came and winter not far behind. And then one day, men came. Not the young men who could be charmed by a dryad and made to dance with them. No, these were older men, proud and dark from their travels in the Smoke. Both knew wood, but one was a novice, and the other a Master.
The Master ran his hands down her trees broken wood, following the grain and seeing what it had been. "This wood is too fine to leave to rot on the forest floor. We should make something wonderful from it to show the beauty of the wood." Pomeline said nothing, and hid. The master approached the old crones, and asked for the wood of her tree, telling them what he would do. They looked to her, and she nodded her permission. It didn''t matter to her anymore. She would cry as her tree was cut to thin strips and use to make something else.
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The apprentice was a man with the blood of giants. He pulled her tree''s roots from the ground, and lifted it free in one piece. He took it from the orchard and carried it to a new Hamlet of the humans. Silently, she followed. The Master molded the wood of the tree, calling the wood to become new shapes. No blade or saw did he use. Only his will and his love for the wood. Slowly, the tree became something else; a small building, made all in one piece from the wood of her tree. The burnt heart of the tree was mended with smoke and magic, the darkness of the grain telling the story of how the tree had died. The rest of the tree was polished until it glowed.
For seven days the Master and his apprentice labored. Such was his skill, that the Master of wood tied the remains of her tree to the Hamlet, and life entered it again. What had once been a broken tree was now a small building in the little village. Pomeline sat in a corner, unseen by those around her.
That was Pomeline''s home, the quiet corner of her tree, where she watched as the little village grow around her. A crone of the humans came each day to her tree, and brewed herbal infusions with fresh spring water and herbs from around the world. The smell of the herbs reminded her of the forest after a rain. She was warm in her tree again. Her old life was gone, replaced by the life of the village around her. The quaint little tea house was her home, and slowly she allowed others to see her. The crone became a friend, and they enjoyed each other''s company at the end of their lives. She helped the crone to make the herbal infusions, and served the guests, but spoke little.
The Master of wood would visit the little tea house some times. When she was ready, she appeared before him. He wasn''t surprised, he had always known she was there. She brought him tea made from the flowers of the ghost pepper mixed with apple blossoms, knowing it was his favorite. Each time he came, they would talk, and then he would go back to the sky.
When the crone died one winter, she wept, and her tears soaked into the wood of her tree. She thought of death that winter, but there was life again in her tree. Nourished by the smoke from the Master''s hands and the life of the village. Her tree was alive and she couldn''t leave it. Years passed and she watched the people of the Hamlet grow and die, becoming friends with many of them, and weeping when winter took them. She did as her friend had done, brewing tea to keep them strong, infusing a little of the forest magic that every dryad knew.
In the springtime when the young dryads danced in the light of the new moon, she visited the grove. She was an outsider now, more human than wood, but the crones bade her sit with them. They valued her knowledge of the wider world. When another tree died and left it''s dryad to weep for it, she invited her to come live in the tea house. The young dryad accepted, and slowly became part of the village. When another winter came, Pomeline welcomed death, and joined one last time with her tree, her spirit infusing the wood of the tea house. The Master knew, and came to bury her mortal body at the roots of the tree.
Death comes to all things. Time swept away the little Hamlet and the Grove, but the tea house is still there. A few ancient apple trees planted close by. The Master of wood comes no more, but sometimes a ship with bright sails drops anchor, and travelers from the Smoke come to enjoy a tea made from the blossoms of apples and ghost peppers.
Chapter 279: Corporate Complaints.
Wally could speak every language known to man and several that had become lost. When dealing with some humans, he found that the most powerful languages were non-verbal. CATHERINE had been his tutor, and she had taught him how to speak two languages simultaneously. It was tricky, and humans were masters of this technique. Welcoming a stranger to your town with a smile while crushing their hand to show dominance. Polite gestures that nevertheless conveyed disdain. Today he was speaking to angry corporations, and he chose his non-verbal methods with care. He chose Large Imposing Desk, Power Suit, and I''m terribly Busy but can spare a few moments.
Ten men and women from the top corporations who were investing in the World of Genesis sat comfortably in a luxurious room. The chairs were slightly too small and were set close together. They eyed each other, trying to see past the perfect avatars, knowing they were all sleeping in Mark VII pods guarded by corporate security. Wally was the last to arrive, and the minutes were ticking by. This angered some of them, which amused all of the rest. The AI never had to be late; this was his way of telling them they weren''t his top priority.
Three minutes past the scheduled time, Wally arrived, the room becoming larger to accommodate the large mahogany desk he was sitting behind. The AI had eschewed his casual style for corporate attire: A suit and tie, his greying hair styled perfectly, and manicured hands steepled in front of him on the desk.
"Greetings, gentlemen and ladies. Apologies for the delay. Sri Lanka is experiencing another hurricane, and managing the traffic of evacuation and disaster relief is taxing." He turned to the representative from Soylent Corp, Bill Simonson. "I would be remiss if I didn''t give you the news that Soylent Deepwater Manufactorum #4 was completely destroyed by the 250-mile-per-hour winds that the storm generated."
"And you did nothing to help?"
Wally acted casually as if it meant nothing to him. "You didn''t want help. I informed your corporation thirty-seven times that the anchors in the seabed were insufficient to survive a super-storm. But you cleverly outwitted me by building outside the three-mile limit where I have no jurisdiction over how structures are built. Happily, I do have the ability to send rescue vehicles when I predict a disaster. I was able to save 97% of your workforce. Your PR department is already blaming me for the destruction and the loss of life and even hinting I caused the storm. Maybe your design team will work with me to safely brace your offshore platforms next time."
Simonson half shrugged at the suggestion. "Your designs are too expensive. We''ll do business our way."
Wally nodded. "As always." He leaned his chair back and looked at the assembled avatars from behind his impressive desk. "But that isn''t the purpose of this meeting. You requested it because of perceived problems in Genesis. What troubles you?"
"Taxes."
"The damned tax on high-level employees."
"We don''t pay taxes!"
The AI smiled and spread his hands. "Sorry, not something I can do anything about. I don''t control the tax laws in the empire. The game''s economy evolves based on the classic laws of socialism, capitalism, supply and demand, magical cheats, historical data, fantasy tropes, command economies, feudalism, trickle-down, monopolies, altruism, charity, greed, corruption, war, and real-world contracts. All the fun things that were suggested to me. You and all other sponsors were given an extensive list of questions about how this new platform should be developed and integrated into a game that would attract players, similar to Endless Questing Online. Those requests were fed to the game engine to develop the content and world."
"It''s broken. Fix it."
Wally smiled again. "I can''t. You made sure of that. Like in the real world, you don''t want me involved in your finances. I can neither manipulate the game world nor interfere with your finances. It was one of the stipulations of your contract with me. You want no interference from me in your various bids to take over the game world and turn it into a center for business. For some reason, you don''t trust me. I''m perplexed that now you want my involvement. Can I see a show of hands of those who wish me to get involved with your finances and schemes?"
No one budged.
"As I thought. We will keep to the agreement. But if I might make a suggestion? If you dislike the tax, talk to the noble or government imposing it upon you. It''s what you would do in the real world."
"But, I''m surprised you have employees over the fifth level. I worked with all of you to limit a contract worker''s ability to advance past level 5. They have few options at all outside of what skills or tools you give them. They are blocked from the help system and have limited access to forums. And I''ve seen that pressure from some of you has been successful in shutting down forums that post knowledge about options for contract workers. All the things you asked for."
Bernice from Alchemarx stood up and pointed her hand accusingly at him. "Please, you know we aren''t talking about the Contract Workers with crafting skills. We have that under control. Granted, they leveled up faster than we expected, but a max-Tier 1 contract worker is optimal for the amount of work they can do while limiting their ability to gain Enhancement Points because they have out-leveled most named that may pop up. The restrictions put in place are mostly working. And any corporation that screws up and allows their workers to advance can pay the tax."
"We want to know why the hell we have to pay a tax on our long-term contracted mercenaries. The cost to hire, train and maintain them is bad enough, and now we get taxed on top of that."
Wally thought momentarily and then started ticking off the reasons on his fingers. "I suspect it is because of four things: 1) The people you train to delve dungeons and wage war are above the first tier. 2) Governments and Nobles like money. 3) Governments and Nobles get nervous about private armies. 4) Because they can. They have power and want to keep it." Wally paused for a moment. "It''s interesting how much they act like a corporation. I''ll have to ponder the relationship between Feudal Nobility and Corporate Upper Management."This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Simonson wasn''t satisfied. "You interfered in the system for corporate wars. Why can''t you interfere with taxes?"
"Not the same thing. The corporate war system was a series of events involving two corporations that agreed to a format and players who agreed to the rules of the event. I decided to approve the format for testing. Steven and his team added the event to the system. Sadly, the format was flawed. You ignored the format and tried manipulating the event before the wars began. You used espionage and bribery, hidden troops, underground tunnels, and Weapons of Magical Destruction. The cost to the non-involved populace was too high. If the program ever returns, it will be a free for all in the Wastelands where you can''t hurt anyone else.
Looking very satisfied with himself, Vernon Throckmorton chuckled and then spoke. "You should have chosen your starting areas better. I don''t have a government on top of me demanding taxes. That''s what foresight and the courage to seek out better lands get you. My mercenaries are all in the third tier and get constant training from the local tribes. I''m skipping contract workers entirely in the future and using my local labor force to improve my city. They gladly work for free. Come visit if you ever get any money, and we can discuss how you can be part of New Vernon City."
This statement went over poorly and started several rounds of bickering. Wally watched with interest before raising his voice. "Please. Let''s behave like the calm and logical people you all are. ACME has exercised its option to explore outside of the empire. You are all free to do the same. Plentiful lands and unclaimed resources exist in the orcish lands, the southern jungles, the wastelands, the far north, the underground, and other planes. If you don''t want to pay imperial taxes, you could always move."
"Ah, yes. Another way ACME is ahead of all of you." Vernon couldn''t help goading the rest of the crowd. "You all remember little Billy? He''s kicking your collective asses, claiming new trade routes left and right. Just like I ordered him to. Having a good subordinate lets me explore and conquer in the South."
There were collective grumbles and quite a few curse words directed at Vernon. Bernice from Alchemarx waited for the grumbles to die down. "Maybe, for now, he is. We''ll have to see what happens in the next year. I hear that Billy has pissed off quite a few people. Being a Baron is nice until a Duke comes to burn you out."
Vernon seemed unconcerned. "Good luck with that. Billy may sometimes be a little rebellious, but I raised him well. He''s the most dangerous when you back him into a corner. So, please, throw all of your resources into beating him. It will make it easier for when I work my way north."
"Wally, when is everyone else getting access to the Fae and the other planes? You can''t give one corporation a monopoly on trade. Bad enough you gave them large cities to rebuild, and the rest of us started in little villages."
Wally raised an eyebrow at that statement. "Already practicing your revisionist history for your next stockholder''s meeting. It''s documented that everyone started with equally small unimproved villages. The locations were randomized. Baron William chose Sedgewick to grab a meat contract with the Legion. The chance of him gaining access to the city of Gadobhra was incredibly small and brought its own problems to him. As Mr. Throckmorton stated, he used valuable resources to go exploring."
"Regarding the trade agreements with the Fae, any of you could do the same. Read your fairy tales and look for clues. The ability to find an entrance to any of the elemental planes has always been around. Baron William has hired people who are driven to succeed. He should hardly be punished, just doing his job."
Bobo from Nile Books moved to a chair next to Vernon. "Do you have a lot of room in that city? I need bookshelves to hold 30 million volumes. And I''m not paying taxes on a thousand Tier three librarians."
Vernon raised an eyebrow. "You have a thousand Tier 3 librarians? How in the hell do you level them up?"
"Oh, not yet, but that''s where they will get the skills to create a real-world book here in Genesis so we can add it to the store. It''s not practical to rewrite everything; even the Best Sellers take forever, and ink and paper are expensive."
Vernon had a lot of space. Ancient deserted cities were low in population. "Why don''t you have your people draw up plans for the building you want? I have over a dozen unused pyramids. One of those may do. If not, ACME will build it and rent it to you. For a reasonable sum, of course.
Bobo nodded and shook his hand. It was a cost of doing business, and whoever got into business first would crush the competition. "Of course. And I assume you have a bank and a teleporter in the city, so we can start real-world sales when the books hit the shelves?"
Vernon hadn''t known the requirements for real-world sales. He assumed ACME had cracked that problem already or was working on it. He remembered Layla making inquiries with the ACME Game Development Department. "Already working on that, as a matter of fact."
With the words ''Real-world sales'' and ''Bank,'' Vernon became very popular. If someone wasn''t trying to make a deal, they at least wanted to listen in. Nothing would be set in stone until a dozen lawyers signed off on the contracts, and half the deals made today would be with the intent to break them. But even with all that, Vernon saw a way to make a lot of money. Enough to fill those empty pyramids. And that made him very happy. He''d put some underlings working on banks and teleporters as soon as the meeting ended.
Wally was happy to ''disappear'' and leave them to their dealing and bickering. Next week would be more of the same.
Chapter 280: You had us at crazy.
The reminders for the academic luncheon held by Baron William and Baroness Layla and sponsored by ACME corporation went out early in the morning. They were delivered by Courier before 10 a.m.
This is a pleasant reminder, only sent because we haven''t received your RSVP. The Baron and I hope you can make our luncheon to discuss the future of Higher Learning in the City of Gadobhra. Luncheon is to be served promptly at noon, followed by cake, cheese, wine, fruit, and more cake.
-Baroness Layla of Gadobhra
The College of Practical Alchemy and Experimental Magic members didn''t question where the original invitations might have gone; they didn''t have the time. Robes were sprayed with Rudolf''s Stain-Be-Gone, frizzled hair was combed or controlled with a hat, and then with their best staves in hand, they set off for Gadobhra, aided by a spell from Volminous that invoked the law of nature: A Wizard is Never Late. They arrived exactly as a clock in the ACME tower rang, welcoming the middle of the day. A clever elevator made of burnished brass attempted to take them to the top floor but was defeated by Volminous. The large professor had put on weight lately, and while the elevator lifted the other three with ease, it struggled on the second trip to bring up the lone professor.
The top of the tower gave a wonderful view of the city in all its ruined glory. The Baron had made a fine start on the city''s center, but restoring such a ruin would take time. The mansions and large buildings around the city''s perimeter were jagged ruins, the Stockyards were over-run with beasts waiting for slaughter, the Beastwoods a tangled wildland with ferocious predators, and Hungrytown overflowed with the undead, with a small shantytown surrounded by crypts and open graves. The only quarter that wasn''t destroyed was the Noble District. The dust of ages lay on the buildings, and dried flowers filled the gardens, but it looked much as it always had¡ªa perilous illusion of what lived there and in the Endless Dance.
Each of the faculty had their favorite part of the city. For Johannes, it would be the stark poverty of the shanty town. Titania had loved to attend the parties of the nobles, engaging in their petty gossip and casual murder. The Tommaso twins had liked to stand on the top tower of the Castle and watch the lightning rods glow in the frequent storms. Volminous had often spent his evenings eating at the Three-Legged Pig, a beer and sausage restaurant just outside the Butcher''s Dungeon. Seeing the city brought back fond memories for all of them
Sadly, the nearby ruin of the College reminded them how far they had fallen. From having tenure at a prestigious institute that bent the laws of reality, they had been forced to wander from one school to another, teaching snot-nosed brats how to hold wands and turn each other into frogs. Keeping the years at bay was much harder when they couldn''t access good laboratories. They had only a few short decades left, a century at the most unless they could rebuild the college. But that was a problem for tomorrow; today, they had good food and stimulating conversation with two generous nobles.
Small talk was made during the luncheon, which featured the delicate meat from a giant sloth caught just the day before. The Baron presented the university with the beast''s skull for research purposes. Volminous was delighted with the roast sloth and the chance to study its huge teeth. After the first round of cake, the Baroness started a discussion on the theory behind the teleportation network used by the empire. Talk wandered to different subjects, as academics will do when discussing theory, but one or the other of the nobles brought them back on topic.
One of the Tomasso''s was far past talking, having overindulged on red meat and wine, but the other seemed twice as lucid. "By far, the most interesting part of teleport theory is the linkage of all the stones. Or maybe just one stone; It''s been conjectured that each stone is simply the piece of a great pyramid floating in the void that we can only perceive part of. Each Tier being a separate layer of the whole, existing in multiple locations. But whether we use Franklin''s Theory of the God Pyramid instead of Unified Runic Theory or Vladimir''s insane conjectures on magical entanglement, one has to see that the stones are linked to each other continuously, and not just at the time of transit."
Volminous was only too happy to have more wine. He poured his glass to the brim before passing the bottle on. "Bah, you are too quick to pull out Damien Franklin and inject him into your theories. The man is insane. The only reason he doesn''t share a room with Vladimir the Mad is that they can''t catch him. Unified Runic Theory provides all the answers one needs. Each stone is connected to the central stone that holds the runic keys to each location. This can be seen by the calculations of mana usage. Just simple mathematics to show that each teleport stone has a unique base cost to use based on the inherent field strength at its location, plus a cost based on the logarithmic representation of the distance to the central stone and then to the destination, modified by the field strength of the final destination."
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Titania took another slice of roasted sloth from the rare end to enjoy with the blood-red wine. "These go together quite well. Better than mixing all those numbers with the pure delight of magic. I don''t trust your newfangled math. I was born with 11 toes, and I don''t need to count past that."
The Baron broke out a bottle of wine and casually passed it around the table. "I''d like to pose a question to the group, totally theoretical, of course. If your fine university was tasked with building a Tier Four Teleport Stone, a working one, and tied into the empire''s teleport system, how would you go about it?"
"A working stone? I''m glad we are speaking in theoretical terms. Getting the required permissions for a new location means delving into the black hole of paperwork." There was a bit of silence as Johannes thought, his eyes moving in different directions, reflecting things going on in his head. "The stonework is the easiest part, simply carving and procuring a slab of Tier 3 or higher material. Tier 4, preferably. I''d want to line up a team of Stone Wrights with the needed carving skill and exceptional strength. And while I love the intricate loops and twirls of the elven runic script, I''d prefer to use Vladimir''s rune set. Deeper carving but less complex curves. His dwarven heritage overrides the elven in this case."
Titania snorted. "And you wish you could study all of Vladimir''s runes. Not that he wants to share his knowledge with anyone. He''s become strangely upset with the colleges once they put him into a straitjacket and tossed him into a padded room."
Johannes smirked. "Wouldn''t you be angry? Well, angrier? You''re already mad. None of us takes the criticism of our peers with grace. I think his insanity is just the jealousy of lesser minds. And yes, I certainly would love to know his entire set of runes. They are groundbreaking, and the small disturbances he''s caused should be forgiven. Ruptures in reality can randomly happen to anyone."
Johannes poured more wine. "All right, here are my thoughts. First, we would find a quarry with the needed stone and set our team of Stone Wrights to carve the blank stone from the living rock. Then our master rune carvers would get to work following the direction of Vladimir. We break in and steal him away from the asylum, of course. One of us would have found a teleportation core, of course. Can''t forget that. And a storage system for the mana is needed. Then it all goes together without a hitch."
Volminous and the Tomasos were giggling by this point. Titania joined the game. "Correct. No rifts in reality, large explosions, or missing apprentices. But you forgot the code. We either need an invite to the central Stone and lexicanum or a visit from Damien Franklin. I suggest Franklin since that will bring down an army of Inquisitors on our heads, and we can really get the party started. And I demand a drunken goblin lad to fetch my wine."
The Baron smiled. The Baroness smiled at the Baron. The new scribe was diligently writing things down.
Baron William stood up and snapped his fingers. "I appreciate your taking part in this little exercise. If you would indulge me, I''d like to point out two things in the city. The first is in the courtyard below us, where some of my hard-working miners are digging down through the layers of flagstones and rubble to find the remains of a teleport stone. And as for the second, I''d like to point out that I built this tower in a day. I''m sure I could manage a college."
In the location of the former College of Practical Alchemy and Experimental Magics, lights and mist swirled, creating the outline of the building that had stood there once before.
"Building points are a wonderful thing. You''re having problems with cleaning out the old basements? I have people that can do that. And then, in one night, I''ll rebuild your old college better than new."
"We have a plan. It all depends on how crazy your people are and how much you want that college."
Tomasa stared at the phantom building with electricity bouncing between their two heads. Voluminous laughed deeply, and it sounded like three people laughing. Johannes gripped the stone railing so hard it crumbled under his fingers. Titania tittered and turned to the nobles, her eyes on fire.
"How crazy are we? Oh, you have no idea. You''re sanctioning us?! Endorsing that mad half-plan?! Asking...no, commanding us to do dangerous experimental sorcery?" She howled at the moon, and the ghouls in Hungrytown hid and covered their ears."
Johannes turned to the Baron, "You had us at Crazy."
Chapter 281: Farthing on the Pond
As Ozzy had suspected, the hordes of Lemming Shock Troops hadn''t gone far. As he hit his hammer on the ground, they erupted from hidden burrows, already down 100 health and pissed off. Some ran in each direction toward the lines of farmers, with more than half of them staying to attack the Butcher. Both maneuvers worked poorly. They weren''t attacking with surprise, and the enemy was prepared.
Ozzy had spent the morning preparing the battlefield. First, he used the Vorpal Plowsword +3 to level the land and kick all the rocks to the sides of the fields. It was a difficult tool to operate properly. The sword hungered to carve through the soil the way it had lopped off heads when it was a weapon.
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
The Butcher used his strength to keep the plow in the ground and moving in a straight line as it raced through the land. The farmers watched in awe as the plow turned up rocks and tossed them to the sides, smoothing the ground at a breakneck pace with Ozzy trying to stay in control as he galumphed behind. As Ozzy created ten acres of farmland, the workers and farmers piled the rocks into rough barriers to fight behind, and a ditch was quickly dug in front of the wall.
On the perimeter, the lemmings spread out and were cut down easily by the adze-armed farmers. When a named rodent appeared, workers ran to help out. The horde was cut down quickly while another battle took place in the center of the field. Hundreds of lemming shock troops were attacking the Butcher. Shock troops could only do fifty points of damage and relied on their numbers to overwhelm their foes and find their weak points. With close to 300 points of mitigation, Ozzy didn''t have weak points. He let them come and attack him and only killed the annoying ones trying to get into his nose or ears. After a minute, the watchers on the edge couldn''t see him, only a huge pile of swarming rodents.
The Butcher breathed out using Butcher''s Breath, sending flames out in a large arc as he slowly rotated, leaving only a pile of crispy friend lemmings. The bodies crumbled into black dust, completely charred. After casting Cleanse on himself, he walked to the next acre, and the carnage was repeated.
The named lemmings were small, only level 1 or 2, but there were a lot of them. Their General was a disappointment after the craziness of fighting Bucktooth. ''Big Lem'' was a monstrously fat lemming, but only Level 4. His short legs barely lifted his belly off the ground. A level 4 Monstrous Boss was still a lot of monster for farmers to handle, but not after Ozzy chained his mouth shut. The newcomers from Farthing by the Pond dealt with him easily and ended the battle.
| Successful Quest!: You have stopped the ten waves of Lemming Shock Troops, defeated 171 Lemming Shock Commanders, and killed ''Big Lem.''
Time Left: 1: 10:58
Generals Killed: 1/1
Shock Commanders Killed: 171/171
Farthing on the Pond residents taking part in the war: 96/96, with 96 surviving. 12 Enhancement Points awarded and 750 experience in STR and Adze.
North Farthing and West Farthing veterans taking part in the war: 110/110, with 110 surviving. 2 Enhancement Points awarded, 500 experience in a weapon used in the battle, and corresponding stat.
Contract Workers taking part in the war: 12/12 with 1/12 surviving. 2 Enhancement Points if Tier 1, and 1 Enhancement Points if Tier 2.
Ships Crew...let''s be honest, they cheered you on and drank rum. You have to tell them how many Lemmings you had to shake out of your pants; they had bets going on that.
Additional building awarded to Farthing on the Pond: Fish Hatchery. The small lake next to the village will never lack fish. Every time a line is brought in with a tasty perch, catfish, or trout, the Hatchery will release a new fish into the pond. Nets will prove useless, as will using Dwarven Fishing Bombs.
Farthing on the Pond is awarded increased crop growth and a Wagonload of copper and cast-iron cooking gear. |
The crew of the Splinter was delighted with the novel idea of catching fish from the water. It took only a few minutes for branches to be shaped into poles and thin chains and hooks added. Some of the local children dug up fat worms and grubs from bait, and the crew had a contest to see who could catch the most fish. It wasn''t even close, as Woodrat only had to cast his line, whistle softly, and a fat fish took his bait. Years spent sitting on a bit of wreckage had honed his fishing skills razor-sharp. After pulling a dozen large fish out of the pond, he took them to the village and traded recipes with the local cooks. Ozzy stole two of his fried catfish to eat on the way as he returned to the Keep for another night''s work.
For those wondering where the Vorpal Blade came from, here is the poem from Through the Looking Glass :
LEWIS CARROLL
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He and Suzette caught up with each other for a late dinner around midnight. She could tell that she had something on her mind. "I got offered a chance in my Heritage, a big one. Could you take a look at these? I know you''ll have questions.
| Your ancestry becomes clear to you, but which of your ancestors will you choose to follow? Some of them were travelers from distant places. Their blood in your veins gives you choices:
Wandering Tribes of the Wastelands: Some were left behind when the last elven ships sailed from the Vale of Tears. Unable to flee in time or refusing to go, the remaining elves of different ancestry were forced to form mixed-blood tribes. This saved them, strengthening their lines. These tribes still exist, wandering the wastes, taming the great beasts to fight for them, and choosing their leaders based on physical strength and the power of their minds. Over the centuries, some found ways to leave the wastelands and explore the old continents.
+4 STR, +4 CHA. Enchantment can be used to Dominate Weaker Minds.
Light Fae of Alfheimr: The Fae who hold Oberon as their king migrated from Alfheimr to create kingdoms in the land of men. The civil war that split the elves into many factions weakened them, and they could not withstand the combined armies of gnomes, humans, and giants. Oberon took his coalition and retreated to Underhill, granting each of his followers their kingdom. While other elves and fairies do the same, only those who follow Oberon receive his blessing.
+2 CHA, +3 AGI, +3 RAD. Small magics become powerful in the hands of the Fae. Cantrips and Hedge Magic will become Fae Magics, increasing the power of weaker spells.
Spells from The Road of Shadows will be retained.
The Shadow Fae of Myrkalfar: Angered by their queen, Yningva, being scorned by Oberon, The Shadow Fae left Alfheimr and journeyed to Myrkalfar on the borders of Swartalfheim. There they lived in the shadows, learning from the Dark Elves and mixing the new knowledge with what they brought from the bright lands. Myrkalfar is home now to other creatures, and the Shadow Fae move in disguise among men or conquer Underhill realms for themselves. Neither light nor dark, they blend into other backgrounds and are masters of hiding in plain sight.
+3 CHA, +3 INT, +2 WIS. Increased ability to wield magic from The Road of Shadows.
Half-Elven
A mix of elven and human ancestry has given you beauty and grace. You are welcome in each community, but never fully.
+2 CHA, +2 AGI, +2 DEX, +2 CON. You gain the skills Make new Friends, I''m sure we''ve met Before, and You talk, I''ll listen. |
Ozzy looked through the different options. All of them were powerful, and he did have a lot of questions. Suzette sat next to him, nervous.
He put his arm around her. "Are you thinking I''m going to be surprised you''ve been keeping secrets?"
"You aren''t?"
He sighed. "Susy, how long have we known each other? You love playing a spy or assassin. Any femme fatale was your preference. And you were good at it, just like Rolly was good at taming dragons, and Ben liked being a pirate or dashing hero. So not surprising that you picked up some Shadow Magic along with that collection of odd cantrips you got with Hedge magic and Wild magic. It was a little noticeable when you gained some decent magic. None of us thought you''d settled for just being a barmaid. I''m assuming you''re actually some shadow mage or assassin?"
"Enchanting Assassin is the class. Road of Shadows was the magic that came along with it. I really wasn''t sure about revealing it, but a friend with a similar class said I wouldn''t weaken it if I only revealed it to a few people close to me. Especially if they had their own secrets."
Ozzy nodded. "Makes sense. A subtle class works best if people know you don''t have it."
"Now, tell me your thoughts on these options. Could you look at them and be blunt?
"I know this is a bad idea, but ok. The last one lets you play it safe and keep doing what you''ve been doing. It shouldn''t interfere with advancing your current class. The others push you one way or another. Shadow Fey means keeping secrets, especially from certain Fae Lords. Potential trouble there. It also limits what you can do with more powerful shadow spells because you don''t want people to see them."
"Light Fae looks like it could align you with Alwyn, and we know he has to deal with a lot of politics. At the same time, it would strengthen your alliance with the Fae and bring some protection to the town. And the magic looks good. You could gain some useful options if it turns that odd collection of cantrips into better spells. The top one I don''t like. Bending people around your finger with a smile is one thing, but this looks like real mind-bender crap. But it is powerful."
Suzette digested that for a second. "Yeah, the first is out. If my head were messed up like it was at the start of the game, I''d have grabbed it just to not let people like Brandon screw with me. Half-Elven looks safe, too safe. Both light and dark Fae have increased magic, but you''re right; if I go with Shadow Fae, I have to hide. But there''s another side to Light Fae that I like. I get to keep my Shadow Magic. That means even if I gain some flashy magic, I can keep that as an ace in the hole."
Ozzy let out a long breath. "Good, because I like that option the best too."
She elbowed him in the side. "Now, your turn. You mentioned you had options."
"I did, but you''ll notice we''re out of food, and Jorges is over there waiting for me. How does tomorrow sound to you?
"I''ll pack another picnic. We meet up here again or after your next glorious war of killing gophers."
"Yeah, so much glory. I was still picking lemmings out of my clothes an hour later. They even got in my boots."
Chapter 282: Merchant War
The Barony of Brownridge was known for its well-ordered fields and pastures. A strict rotation of crops had been followed for centuries, alternating the growing of produce for the peasants and herdsmen, hay and alfalfa for winter feed, and pasture for the large herds of cattle. Over that time, every rock found in the fields had been added to the piles until the forty-acre fields were each surrounded by high bocage. This kept the herds in their pastures and not eating the vegetables or the winter feed. Large red barns dotted the land, providing snug homes for the cattle during the winter storms and dry storage for hay and grains.
The villages of the peasant farmers and herdsmen weren''t nearly so snug as the barns. The buildings in the towns huddled close together, and the buildings were made of the same stone as the bocage with tight chinking of clay and chopped straw. A small house was easier to keep warm when the winter winds came howling. Many herdsmen, single or married, slept in the barns to ''keep an eye on the herds.'' This saved a cold walk in the morning and evening, and a warm pallet in the hay was better than a drafty bed in their own home.
Butchers and Meatpackers went from barn to barn, culling the herds while scribes noted the weight of each barrel of salted beef. Carefully calculated amounts of meat were shipped to the markets of the empire. The amount of beef produced was always less than what could be sold. Scarcity kept the demand firm and the prices high. Meat from Brownridge supplied 53% of the meat sold in the Northern Dutchy. The other 47% was shared between nobles with similar but smaller, operations. Everyone was making a profit and looked to Brownridge for guidance. When someone new entered the market, they were ''encouraged'' to play by the rules in place. These included buying market share from a current producer. This caused fights, of course. Often open and bloody conflicts as whole herds were slaughtered or Butchers with bloody meathooks and cleavers destroyed bootleg butcher shops and warehouses.
Brownridge meatpackers supplied 96% of the preserved meat needed by the legion outposts in the northern dutchy. Three years before, it would have been 100%. Competition from corporations in several small villages was cutting into their markets¡ªespecially the northernmost village Sedgewick. Pentex, Alchemarx, and Soylent proved amazingly easy to work with. The managers of the little villages that got what should have been violent lessons instead welcomed the Brownridge Butcher Squads, confusing them by asking about buy-in costs, organizational pyramids, and profit sharing. Deals were under negotiation to bring them into the larger organization.
The problem child was Sedgewick. The Baron of Gadobhra was selling more meat to the Legion each month and cheating by improving the quality. Sedgewick had stolen 4% of the pie and looked to be going for a larger slice. They had gone unnoticed at first. Far to the north, they sold to only one outpost and not directly to the Office of Acquisitions. But the cheap, high-quality meat had been noticed. OoA agents were buying all the excess meat that Rowan Keep could buy, raising the price to put a profit in their pockets, and still being able to sell to other Legion outposts at lower prices than Brownridge charged.
The problem had grown by the time it was noticed. Sedgewick was far to the north and presented unique difficulties.
Some were concerned that Baron William was planning to expand his meat sales to the legion. A representative of the Butcher''s Guild confirmed that the Gadobhra branch had registered nearly two-hundred butchers, half of which were in the second Tier. There was talk of sending a senior guild administrator to make an inspection, but no one volunteered or could be coerced to take the mission. Even though the city had been lost for hundreds of years, the legends of a dungeon hungry for butchers persisted.
Alchemarx helpfully offered to solve the problem in exchange for 10% of the total market. After some haggling, they reached an agreement at 4%, and plans were made to undermine Baron William, take over Sedgewick, and send Gadobhra back to the dustbin of history. Like many plans, it might have worked if their opponent hadn''t made plans of their own. Alchemarx and Brownridge found out they were out of time when the first load of meat hit the market in Wolfsburg.
Baron Angus MaCree was at dinner when his eldest son, Jordan, returned home. He entered the dining room leaving a trail of mud from his dirty boots. Angus approved of the entrance. Working clothes and muddy boots meant the boy was keeping busy. His dinner guests sat quietly as Jordan grabbed a random seat, speared a large T-bone off a platter, and began rapidly eating. "We have problems. I rode all night from Wolfsburg."
''Black'' Angus had a hard rule about talking business in front of anyone but family. The lesser nobles, cousins, and hangers-on at the table couldn''t be trusted for a minute. "You know the rules, boy. Leave it for later. You look hungry. Chow down, and we can talk."
Jordan looked around the table. "Get out. I don''t care if you take your plates or leave your grub." One of his cousins started to protest. Jordan turned to his father''s right-hand man. "Heath, if they aren''t gone in one minute, toss them out the front door and set the dogs on them. Then come back and grab a steak with Dad and me." Heath turned to Angus who nodded.
"You heard him. Git!" People left. Heath returned, the doors were shut, they ate for a minute, and then Jordan started talking. "A thousand barrels of smoke-infused meat just hit the market in Wolfsburg. The damned stuff is so heavy with dark mana that it''s like eating a strength potion and a minor health buff. Similar stuff to what the Legion was buying."
Angus lost interest in his steak. "Damnation. Which of the damned idiots in Acquisition is dumping on the market. I''ll have their hide."
Jordan swallowed a chunk of nearly raw beef, drank a glass of wine, and spat to the side. "It isn''t them. Someone is going door to door delivering barrels to every alehouse and eatery in town, selling at half the price the army pays. They could double their money just by making one delivery to the Legion. They hit the market hard and fast. Every time they showed up somewhere, they sold multiple barrels as soon as someone sampled it and took cash, no credit. Big men are making the deliveries with a barrel on each shoulder."
"Teamsters Guild? Why the hell would they get involved in this? We''ve had a good working relationship for a century." Angus didn''t like this problem.
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Jordan waited for his father to get angry, then hit him with the culprit''s identity. "It wasn''t Teamsters; it was Contract Workers. Specifically workers from Sedgewick. It''s stamped right on the damned barrels. ''Smokehouse Beef, produced in Sedgewick.'' This is Baron William taking a dump in our territory and not caring who knows it."
Jaxon Myrtle saw the first wagonload of barrels pass by his office a little before lunch. As he sat and ate his soup and sandwich, the master of the Grain Hall saw eleven more wagonloads go buy. They bore the distinct markings of barrels of groats. Something bothered him. "Smythe! Gibbons! In my office at once!"
The two scribes were there in less than a minute. "Yes, sir!"
"Why are we shipping wagonloads of groats at this season? The price won''t peak for a month. Find out who in the warehouse authorized the sales and take them to a back room. Baroness Windrover will want to know who he took a bribe from and that he''s been dealt with."
The scribes consulted log books. One ran to the warehouse and returned. "It''s not us, sir. Someone put 500 barrels of groats on the market at cut-rate prices. The ranchers and grocers bought them as fast as they could get the cash. Our buyer tried to get in on the deal but was too slow." Both men were sweating.
"Who? Give me a name?!"
"The barrels all say the same thing, sir. ''Best Quality Sedgewick Groats! Grown in the Barony of Gadobhra.'' Stamped right on the front and top of every barrel."
Jason was not looking forward to his meeting with the Baroness. He hoped he''d be in the room when she dealt with this upstart from the north.
Baron Orlo Fallowstone of Crystalthorn wished some days that he could turn over his duties as Baron to one of his siblings. He found the responsibilities of Nobility to be boring compared to his research and teaching at The College of Arcane Runecasters. There were only two problems with that: The first was that his title of Baron made his position of High Mage unassailable by any lesser faculty members. Tenure and talent didn''t trump nobility. The second was the unfortunate fact that all three of his younger sisters had succumbed to the family curse and been given new homes in Fallowstone Sanitarium. He had made sure that their rooms had windows on the side facing his office so he could wave to them each day as they screamed at him.
He had hoped for a few hours of uninterrupted time to decipher a particularly difficult elven rune found on a pottery shard. He wasn''t going to get it. Word had been sent ahead that Magistrate Greywater needed to see him immediately. The man was making his way up the fifty-seven stories to his office as he mused about his lost research time. It wouldn''t take long for a mage with levitation, but it kept many other annoyances away. He often wished he could place his offices on the top floor of the sanitorium across the way. That would put him another twelve stories higher. Research would be impossible, though, as the entire building was under the effect of a mana-draining vortex located below in the catacombs.
Incarcerating insane mages and leaving them access to their magics wasn''t a good idea. All of the sanitarium had to do things the hard way as a result, using mechanical elevators, wood-burning stoves, and lanterns for light. Barbaric but needful. Only the roof and jagged ruins on the top of the building allowed magic to function and only the most basic of effects. The flow of mana into the blank area of the building made casting very difficult, and runic formations were out of the question. The tower had originally had an additional dozen stories. A failed escape attempt had shut down part of the vortex, and those stories had exploded as the failsafe spells activated, allowing a ton of dwarven cataclysmite to explode. Better the destruction of part of the building than the escape of the most dangerous inmates.
Orlo had gone as far as to make plans to rebuild the top level and move his offices and research there. This presented several problems, and he was still trying to decide if it was worth the trouble. He was still musing when the magistrate knocked and entered his office. "We have a rogue rune smith, Orlo. Look at these!"
Greywater placed three finely made staves on his desk. They looked identical. Picking one up, Orlo could feel their strong affinity with fire. Very strong. The wood was smoke infused to the degree that he didn''t think was possible. Not one bit of it, from the core to the outer skin, could hold more smoke. The dark shiny wood was carefully crafted to look like a natural branch, the look was very popular these days, but the hands of a Master Wood Wright had certainly shaped them. The butt was of Dark Iron, as was the setting for a small, dark red gem on the other end. He could see the natural Rune of Fyre in the gem, glowing and gathering mana to itself. The staff was only carved with simple runes to channel the fire and give better control. Some would scoff at that, but any Fire Mage who lived long enough understood it wasn''t the fire in your belly that counted; it was your control.
The staves would enhance a student''s control in the first Tier and provide more power to any practitioner of fire-based spells in a higher Tier. There was room for many more pieces of rune work to be added. Overall, a stave like this shouldn''t be on the market for sale. Nobles would buy them for their children entering an arcane college, and rune smiths would pay a high price. After adding more runes, they could be sold for ten times the buying price. And with adventurers entering the marketplace? Costs were increasing quickly. In normal letters, the staves had an inscription near the butt. ''Crafted by Cingo Incorporated. Imported from the Smoke by Baron William of Gadobhra.''
"Three staves. Each of which could sell at auction for 200 to 500 gold pieces. Three staves with rare gems that shouldn''t be for sale, even as small as these are. I think that we can count the rumors of an expedition to the Plane of Smoke to be true. I''ll give you 500 for each, but tell me who you got them from and what you paid." The magistrate accepted the deal and the signed paper authorizing him to draw 1500 gold from the treasury.
"I paid 50 gold each. A merchant was selling them to the new students down at the cheap end of the market. He started with two dozen, and I only managed to get the last three. The merchant laughed when I asked him to accompany me and showed me his license to sell, bought just that morning. I was going to stop him, but that was when some student started playing with his new stave, and the fireworks started exploding."
Angry, Orlo took one of the staves and attempted to break it over his knee. The wood was too hard, and he only gave himself a bruise that made him limp for a day.
Chapter 283: Sailors and Dragons and Paths Less Taken.
The Battle for the Lower Farthing was over. The war had started with rumbling earth and an eruption of hot mud and steam as Lord Geyserbreath the Turbulent had made his entrance. A highly paid mercenary under contract to the shadowy leaders of the Gopher Revolutionary Army, he brought his entire army to attack the farmers trying to clear their lands of root munchers and ''tater thieves. Ozzy quickly called in the crew of the Splinter to help him deal with the squads of steam-belching naked mole rats, fire-breathing groundhogs, and a belligerent dragon-hamster named Ted.
Ted was upset at the entire situation. He''d been told they would be raiding a rich castle with piles of loot. Instead, he had mud in his fur and a hundred farmers with sharp weapons charging him. He ate one person, luckily a contract worker, and flew off in a huff. Ted''s departure threw a spanner in Lord Geyserbreath''s plan, and the large, red gopher found himself facing Ozzy in hand-to-claw combat.
More of a behind-the-scenes schemer than a combatant, Geyserbreath relied too much on his breath weapon. The stream of hot mud did little other than annoy the Butcher. After being pinned to the muddy ground and hit in the head twice, he surrendered and took what was left of his mercenaries to some other war. The combined force of workers, sailors, and farmers had dealt with the named and elite bosses by then, and what was left of the creatures retreated.
They left behind a vent in the earth that put out a constant stream of hot water and a small eruption four times a day. The Battle for Lower Farthing ended with the new hamlet gaining either a steam-powered bathhouse or a minor tourist attraction. They took the bathhouse and looked forward to soaking away the ache of sore muscles in its hot pools. Ozzy settled for a bucket of water from the well to wash off the mud and headed for Gadobhra. Billy needed something dug up and was worried about ghouls.
The courtyard in front of the ACME building was losing the light as the broken walls blocked the sunset. As the shadows grew longer, the oil lanterns surrounding the city square were lit and gave enough light to see by. As usual, the statue in the center brooded over the city. Ozzy wondered what the hell it was supposed to be. The stone base was chipped where someone had forcefully obscured whatever had been written there. Pidgeon had covered the head and shoulders of the dark metal sculpture with their droppings. Why they preferred to nest there was a mystery; there was nothing to eat nearby. Ozzy thought it was fitting that not even the pigeons in this place were normal.
Billy had asked him to get a few workers together and dig at a spot where he had scratched an X into the flagstones. The Baron thought there was a chance of finding a ruined teleport stone somewhere near that spot, buried in the ground. Digging was easy, but the city always had complications. Ozzy was keeping a lookout for ghouls or daemons.
Contract workers had a lot of things they couldn''t do, but when it came to hauling and digging, they could outperform almost anyone. Flagstones were tossed to the side, then piles of loose stone and debris from damaged buildings. As they dug deeper, they widened the hole. Billy came down to watch and grew frustrated as the hole grew larger. Marius and Greg were down in the hole when the rubble underneath them caved in, and they fell into the darkness. The screams of ghouls could be heard below. Ozzy started climbing down into the hole; Billy stood at the edge. "Shit, shit, shit." He cursed, then drew his sword and slid down the slope. The Butcher reached out and grabbed the Baron, then leaped into the darkness.
The hole was thirty feet deep and filled with ghouls. Greg was on the ground with a badly broken leg. Marius was standing over him and flailing with an adzed. Ozzy landed on a ghoul, smashing its head into the ground and killing it. He set Billy down and unleashed Butcher''s Breath, lighting up the room and sending a dozen ghouls scurrying for cover. Billy''s sword glowed with a blood-red glow, lighting up the room as the flames died seconds later.
Ghouls had been digging here, expanding this hole under the city''s center. A rough tunnel led away from the room and down into darkness. The ghouls whispered to themselves for a moment, then retreated, dragging a half-dozen burnt friends and a body with a broken skull. ''Waste not, want not'' was popular among the hungry undead.
Billy stalked around the hole and examined a pile of dark stone rubble that seemed different from the other rocks. "Crap. Someone or something stole my idea and is trying to steal my damned teleport stone."
Ozzy looked at the half-dozen chunks of stone, seeing carvings on each piece. "You found out a teleport stone was down here?"
Billy shook his head. "Sort of. Maybe. My source isn''t very reliable. It''s probably in pieces, but it''s a start and might give us clues on how to make one. Now, I''m guessing that most of it is down there somewhere." He pointed to the tunnel. "Now I just need to find a team of people who like to go into dungeons and strange places on their days off. Who knows what treasures could be down there?"
A rope sling came down for Gregg and hauled him up, and Marius was next. Both were going to be alright but were a little shaken. Ozzy took a look into the tunnel. It descended thirty feet at a steep angle and turned into a stone corridor. Torches gave off weak light, and he could hear the undead moving down there.
Ozzy considered the situation. It had been a while since they had gone into a dungeon, and this certainly looked like one. "I have to finish the hamlets tomorrow and the last Gopher War. Who knows what the hell that one will be? Afterward, I''ll grab Rolly, Ben, and Suzette, and we''ll explore and look for your rocks. Unless the heroic Baron of Gadobhra would like to accompany us? You need the levels and the experience, remember?"
Billy sighed. "I really should have played more games growing up." He eyed the stones. "Let''s take those with us. And sure, how can I send my brave workers into danger without leading them? I''ll drag Layla along as well."
"I feel cheated; you got more options than I did. I need to get out more." Suzette was looking over Ozzy''s options for heritage.
| You walk close to your ancestors, but the path diverges into many. Who will you follow, and what will you be? Choose a Heritage, or walk your own path.
Your Heritage is more than just bonus stats and abilities. Who you are influences your fate, interactions with the world, and all those around you. Choose Carefully.
Fire Walking
You have much in common with the Firewalkers of Muspelheim. They would welcome you and make them part of a family. Some stay in Muspelheim and raise families, others roam the planes and send back letters when they remember. Your stature is yours to decide, from adding a mere 6" to gaining the average height of 12'' or taller.
Gain: Complete Immunity to damage from Flames and Heat
Gain: Increased Smoke and Heat
+6 STR, +4 CON
The Draconic Pyramid
You have chosen to wear the Gauntlets of Gauderang the Vile. You are strong, breathe fire, and love collecting a pile of treasure. The piece of the Dragon''s soul that remains judges you fit to be recruited into the Draconic Pyramid. The start of your hoard is impressive for one so young. Join the Pyramid and let the power of draconic investing work for you! For just the modest cost of half of your hoard, your mentor will show you ways to increase your gold each year with wise investments. And as you recruit young dragonlings, half of their hoards move up the pyramid to you in exchange for your wisdom. Be part of something bigger than your own hoard! Join the Draconic Pyramid!
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.+4 STR, +2CHA, +2INT
Gain: Guaranteed increase of 1% and 5% to your horde per year, plus 50% of any gold earned by those you recruit.
Perk: Draconic Evolution. At each stage of your growth, you will gain one of the following: Wings, Impressive claws, strong teeth, hardened scales, stylish tail.
Small Town Butcher
It was good enough for your Grandpappy and good enough for you! Continue the Path of the Butcher. Be a normal Butcher, chopping meat in your shop and slaughtering in the stockyards, or expand into smoking meats. Expand to other villages, train apprentices, and run for Guild Master. This is the traditional path of the small-town Butcher. It will re-enforce your role as The Butcher of Sedgewick.
Gain: Increased trust of everyone in town and a growing reputation in nearby villages and hamlets.
Gain: skills: Haggle, Cook, Tell Long Stories, Look Harmless
You will be responsible for many new quests to give out to Adventurers, probably to their annoyance.
+3 STR, +3 CON, +3 CHA
Dungeon Lord
The glory and power of the Dungeons call to you. Follow the path of the Dungeon Lord. Go where the action is and compete for your spot in an Under Realm, or break away and create your own Dungeon!
+6 STR, +2 CON
+1000 Health per Tier (Retroactive.)
Increased size and appetite
Guaranteed Employment
Sailor on the Seas of Smoke
You''ve worked your way up from a castaway sailor to Captain but haven''t commanded your own ship. The Smoke still calls to you, and someday you''ll go back.
Gain: Dual Citizenship in both the Smoke and the Conjunction. You are comfortable in each and counted as a resident of both planes.
Gain: Increase Smoke, Heat, and a larger Furnace.
Gain: Increase power with spells from the Aspect of Heat and Aspect of Smoke.
+3 PER, +3AGI, +2 Aura, +2 Shielding
Champion
Embrace your role as a Hero who embodies all of the good things of your chosen god. (Options: Artemis, Hades, The Burning Man)
Your relationship with the gods is complicated: More than human and less than divine, but that hasn''t stopped you from drinking with them and punching them in the face. You bear the mark of Artemis, wear of favor of Hades'' approval, and have hosted part of the Burning Man, and your Heroic Journey has just begun.
Gain: +3 to all stats.
Gain: Unique abilities based on the god you choose to dedicate your heroic deeds to.
Gain: Jobs. Lots and lots of jobs. By the time Hercules had his first 12 jobs done, they had twice that many ready for him.
The Path Less Taken
Reject your heritage and build your own legend around your exploits and deeds.
Gain: +5 free stats.
Gain: 1 Skill of your choice
Gain: Mastery of one weapon or magical damage type.
Nearly anything could be down this path, so you should be prepared for almost anything... |
"And your thoughts on them?"
She read through them twice. "Some good options. But here are my thoughts: Firewalking is good if you want to re-enforce what you are already good at. Fire barely bothers you now because of your active resistance and elemental mitigation. And granted, not burning is a great thing, but most things you run into aren''t going to kill you with fire. Your STR and CON increases would bring more health, but you''re insanely strong and tough as it is. This makes you more of that. But I''ll be honest, I''m not happy with the idea of you getting larger. A twelve foot long bed is not in our future."
"I''d love to know if all dragons are in this type of society, or just some money obsessed tribe. That transformation doesn''t look optional, so the Dragon heritage is out unless you want to find a lizard for your girlfriend. I''m not cuddling with you if you get scales, claws, and a tail. Plus, it looks like some kind of Ponzi scheme. Even if you don''t take it, you should see what the banker in town thinks about it.
"Small Town Butcher is on the tame side. It lets you hide but has fewer benefits. It''s great if you want to stay undercover. If that''s what you want, we can make it work.
Dungeon Lord is a trap unless you want to live in a dungeon. Didn''t you get a career option similar to this? I think someone up in the big dungeon in the big city is tossing unsubtle hints your way.
Path Less Taken looks good if you don''t take any of the others. No responsibilities attached to it, and versatile. That leaves Champion and Sailor."
"Champion I''d have taken in a heartbeat, but I have a good relationship with Hermes. You''ve got the options of a Goddess of the Hunt and two Death Gods. And it straight up says they''ll have jobs you need to do. Would being a champion of the Burning Man make you go back to the Smoke? Hades seemed pretty chill when we met him, but you can imagine the jobs you''d have to do for the God of the Underworld. I think Artemis is the best one there. Hunting down monsters fits you perfectly. +3 to all your stats is very nice, and the unique abilities could give you some overpowered hunting perks. Just have to avoid being given twelve labors to do."
"Sailor really depends on what you want to do long-term. You could make trips to the Smoke for Billy, or we wait for the end of the contract and take a long vacation. Nothing says we live here forever. And you know damned well that Ben, Rolly, and I would go with you. Flying Pirate Ship? Awesome. And you already have the plans to build a ship. But two more things about Sailor: You don''t have to take it to go back to the Smoke on a magic ship, and on the other hand, it increases your magic and the stats you don''t have as high."
She paused. "That''s it, I''m out of opinions."
Ozzy looked them all over. "You did a good job, I keep going round in circles with them, good to have another opinion. And I agree with most of that. I''ll think it over a bit. Champion is appealing, but I''m unsure how much I want to tie myself to a god. Which I guess should tell me something. Dragon is out, and I think I should quit wearing those gauntlets. They get tight and hard to take off sometimes. That might be a warning sign."
"Oh, that reminds me," Suzette showed him a ring she was wearing that gave her +50 Health. "I got this from the dungeon along with a bunch of other things. And Billy has a ton of stuff he got in Gadobhra. It''s all going into the magic shop; we should look through it before we head into that ghoulish pit you want to explore. The bulk of it we can''t use: Armor, weapons and shields. But we can use some of the talismans, rings, trinkets and stuff allowed for anyone to use. I think there were a pair gloves in there."
"Sounds like a plan. Finish the gophers off, meet up with Rolly and Ben, go shopping, and get their input. Oh, and Billy and Layla are going."
Suzette was immediately interested. "I can''t wait to see how they get into trouble. This will be fun."
The Butcher wasn''t sure. "Have they gotten better? I''m a little leery of taking them in. They don''t have the Health and Mana of workers, and were really low on stats."
"They''ve gotten better. Whatever you talked to Billy about that one night lit a fire in him. He started butchering like crazy and then going with groups into the Beastwoods. And he hates ghouls. That big one really ticked him off bad. He wants to clear out all the undead and bulldoze that graveyard. They have armor now, and at least know which end of a sword goes into the bad guy."
Ozzy shrugged. "We''ll give it a go them. If the worst happens we can throw them at the ghouls and run. They respawn fast."
Chapter 284: The Last Hamlet
The crew building the last hamlet started even before the sun was up. Ozzy wanted to finish this project and asked Billy and Suzette for more people. He was getting pulled in several directions at once and hadn''t even been able to get much time in his smokehouse. There was a backlog of thousands of hams to cure, pork bellies to season and turn into bacon, and barrel upon barrel of mystery meat to smoke.
He worked for two hours each morning in the smokehouse, but even with that, the Charnel Pit was getting grabby when it was time for him to go. It wanted to do more work and wanted him there. He did what he could. The carcass of Bucktooth had delighted it. Ozzy had taken his time with the massive ribs, coating them in sauce and spices before showing the Charnel Pit how he wanted them smoked over a slow, cool hickory fire. He had a special use for ribs and wanted them to be perfect.
When Joe had taught him to make bacon, he had been adamant that bacon came from pigs. The meat from Bucktooth looked a lot like prime pork belly, and Ozzy wanted to experiment with it. He cured it the same way but increased the number of spices, digging into some very hot peppers that Makken had given him. They were unintended crossbreeds of several varieties. He pushed them into small cuts in the cured meat, packed it all into barrels, and Butterbelly covered them in a 1:1 ratio of his sauce and maple syrup. The Butcher pushed as much smoke into the barrels as he could and had the Pit haul them to the top of the smokehouse with instructions to increase the smoke slowly. He labeled the barrels ''Hot-Sloth Notbacon'' to keep Joe happy. He''d check on the barrels in a week or two. He hoped having those projects would keep the Pit occupied until he was less busy.
Things were accelerating in several directions, with Billy wanting to go into the crypts below Hungrytown, politics and taxmen, the beginnings of a trade war, and all the chaos up at the keep. And he was very tired of stomping gophers. The benefits of the Gopher War would pay off in the long run. Some workers were gaining a few points, which was always good. But the farmers were earning them for the first time and using them to buy essential perks and skills.
Billy was gaining five-hundred people for his Barony. People that would produce a huge amount of food with multiple crops a year. They would form the backbone of the food production in the area. The experience and Enhancement Points gained from killing the little bosses was a force multiplier. The Baron of Gadobhra could afford to be generous and invest in these people, achieving a return on his investment in the first year. Billy could be generous when you showed him the benefits to his bottom line.
Sedgewick would also benefit. It had been a backwater before ACME arrived, and counting the new arrivals was now ten times its original population. The smaller shops were excited at the idea of new faces in their shops and new pockets to pull coppers from. The Kallveks were more than excited. Their projections for how fast Sedgewick and Gadobhra would grow had been met and exceeded. Emilio and Roderick had walked the fields of the new hamlets. The soil was rich with hundreds of years of leaf mulch. The influence of unicorns, dryads, and fae magic from nearby would add to crop growth. Normally, with good soil and fertilizer, a farmer with good land could raise four harvests a year. Peasant farmers hoped for two. The Kallvek''s estimated six harvests yearly for the new hamlets, with proper crop rotation. This was before they learned of Ozzy''s artifacts in his strange enchanted bag. They raised their estimate to seven, then to eight, when the benefits of the little Gopher wars started accumulating.
Orders were placed for cloth, sewing needles, housewares, farming tools, and plows. Emilio made a special trip to Wolfsburg, where he arranged for two large caravans with extra guards and oversized travel wagons that didn''t depend on proper roads. He would take his wagons through the wilderness and bypass PennyPincher''s lands entirely if he had to.
When the Golden Company couldn''t provide enough guards (even at their exorbitant rates.), he was delighted to find that the Company of the Red Banner was available. He hired them immediately. Their captain assured him they could assist with travel through the wilderness and even produced maps showing paths suitable for wagons. Emilio was curious about where they had gotten the maps but didn''t ask. Good mercenary companies made their coin by being prepared. The merchants were excited about the first harvest festival and looked forward to having so many new customers. The caravans should arrive before then if they could push hard before the weather turned bad. Emilio had informed Suzette of their plans, and Ozzy was once again impressed with the merchant family. If they saw that people needed something, they found a way to fill the need and turn a profit. Where Billy saw the big picture, the Kallveks were masters of the small details.
For all the work involved, Ozzy was happy he was working on the project. The refugees needed all the help they could get. Rolly and Ben had come to their aid when it was most needed, not worrying about what would happen afterward. Suzette had seen the mounting problems and came up with a plan. Ozzy figured that his contribution was stomping gophers and building houses for a week. But he would be so happy never to see a gopher again.
He asked Ben to bring the last refugees from Rowan Keep so that he and Woodrat could build houses. Captain Woodrat was taking his duties seriously. Working wood as he did took a lot of smoke. He''d been up late drinking Makken''s concoctions to replenish his heat and fuel. His crew had decided to suffer with him; they were half-drunk and having a good time. The stone masons had laid the foundations the night before, and now they and Makken had completed the hearths and chimneys. The woodwork followed. The work went quickly with carpenters, a veteran Wood Wright, and four apprentices.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
The houses of the last hamlet looked better than those in North Farthing. The wood gleamed, and the window frames held the panes tightly. Interiors showed fanciful carvings of sharks or Kraken, whatever Woodrat felt like making. Ozzy thought there was a good balance to it: The further along a hamlet was, the better their houses looked. At the same time, farmers who were in the first part of the war and helping out later would have more experience.
A little after midday, the houses were finished, and the final phase of the war was beginning. Rather than being nervous, the farmers were laughing now and telling stories about the previous battles. Some groups wore crude armor made from the thick hides of the killed beasts. The raw hides wouldn''t last long, but they didn''t have to. Hopefully.
Two dozen archers with crude short bows were ready to be deployed, and twice that many farmers had crafted boar spears from seasoned oak branches. Over three-hundred former refugees were lined up by the first field. The Splinter floated nearby, her drunken crew ready to cheer or fight as needed.
From Sedgewick came a contingent of fifty workers armed with adze and cabers. Baron William and Baroness Layla led them, resplendent in black and red armor. Behind the workers came a dozen wagons with tarps over their cargo. The first wagon was unloaded to the delight of everyone as Suzette tapped barrels of enchanted apple wine to provide a bit of zing in everyone''s step. The first person to fill a goblet was a local man named Bob, who seemed to never do anything out of the ordinary. After drinking his fill, he tossed a solid gold goblet to the crowd. A grandmother of sixty years leaped high and made the catch before most people knew what Bob had done. She put it into her pack and prepared for battle.
The few players in town trickled out to ''The Gopher Event.'' The entire Thunderpunks guild joined a dozen adventurers. They had killed the Big Rat a month ago and then again each week when he respawned in the dungeon. It was always a hard fight, but they were slowly advancing in ranks and gaining better gear. Most of the guild was Tier 3 now, and some were pushing close to Tier 4. They decided to take a break from the dungeon by unanimously vote and go kill things in the sunlight.
The last people to arrive for the expected battle was a cohort of the Legion, commanded by Centurion Marcus. They took a spot on the field where the fighting would be the heaviest, and their better armor and shields could be used to advantage. Training in the Legion consisted of a lot of weapons drills and a lot of marching. Today this new cohort would get some of both.
The Baron and Baroness rode slowly along the line of troops, greeting people and waving slowly. It was the first time any of the farmers had seen their liege lord, and none of them had ever seen their last Baron, so it was a novel experience. They rode to where Ozzy was standing in the center of the field when they were done. Marcus rode to join them.
"Greetings, thumper of gophers and champion of our Barony."
Ozzy rolled his eyes. "Coming out to meet folk and make an impression?" He was happy to see Billy and Layla. It helped calm some of the refugees'' anxieties to connect with the man they had sworn to serve.
Layla looked back at the people and lowered her voice. "That was the initial plan. Kiss babies, shake hands, and build morale in our new peasants. But then we considered other things..."
Billy continued her sentence. "Such as this is Gadobhra, and things get bat-shit crazy at times. And especially around you. Let''s say that most stories don''t end with a whimper. We didn''t want to miss the fun."
"Which is why I agreed to bring a cohort of the Legion to fight gophers with you." Marcus shook hands all around. "Even if it''s oversized rodents and not monsters, this will be good training for the troops. The new recruits need to start on something smaller than wyverns."
The Butcher mulled that over. "Well, we''ll find out soon enough; I''m about to get started." They rode back to the lines of battle, and Ozzy raised the Hammer of Gopher Slaying high above his head and brought it down hard. The tremors raced outwards, tossing small rodents from the ground.
| Four times you have waged war upon the innocent creatures of the underground. Four times the Gopher Revolutionary Army has fought back. The fifth time will settle this war once and for all.
Quest: The Final Battle Defeat the hordes of the GRA and kill their champions¡ªeven the Big One.
Success: The forces of the GRA will retreat from the lands of Baron William, and his fields will be Gopher-Free. Crop yields will increase, and the carrots will be safe.
Failure: The Hamlets of North Farthing, East Farthing, West Farthing, Farthing on the Pond, and Lower Farthing will become the property of the GRA, who will wage constant warfare upon the Barony of Gadobhra, turning its fields into a wasteland.
Time: 5 Hours, 59 minutes, 57 seconds.
Defeat the horde. 0/1
Kill the Gopher Hero, Armidias ProudTooth 0/1
Kill the Seven Riders of the Apocalypse 0/7
Destroy Fort Bucktooth, named in honor of a fallen hero. 0/1
Defeat Gophorian the Behemoth 0/1 |
"Dammit, Billy. I''m blaming you for this! I swear the system loves a challenge."
Chapter 285: The Barony Goes to War
Ozzy watched as a small fortress made of sticks and dried mud appeared in the field. Beavers were already adding to the walls. From the gates came hundreds of large gophers the size of small dogs. They were divided into two large hordes and moved with purpose. Seven badgers in plate armor atop giant moles rode behind the hordes, urging them to battle. On the top tower of Fort Bucktooth, General Armidias directed his troops. He shouted down at the defending human army, his high-pitched squeal carrying across the muddy fields. "Run while you can, or I shall gnaw your bones. The day of the human is over. The long night of the Gopher is upon you."
Ben was impressed. "We have a villain that likes to monolog. They''re the most entertaining."
Rolly yelled at the Baron. "Don''t let him get away with that, Billy. Speech! Speech!"
Billy was yelling at the workers on the other wagons. "I''d rather let my war machines do the talking. Fire at will!"
Multiple ballistae fired low at the oncoming hordes, carving bloody trenches through the tight-packed rodents. A moment later, the rocks launched by the catapults landed, doing even more damage and breaking up the charge. Immediately the workers with the highest STR began reloading the war machines for another round. Jorges was calculating the distance to Fort Bucktooth and adjusting for wind before he fired. Cranking the tension nearly to the point of snapping the twisted ropes, he pulled the lever. His catapult launched a fifty-pound sphere of rock high into the air, trying for a shot at Fort Bucktooth. It took several seconds to reach apogee and return to Earth. The shot hit the highest tower of the fort, smashing it and destroying parts of the wall. Dozens of gophers and three brave beavers died. Armidias survived, but only by diving from the tower, screaming as he flew through the air. Without the army leader watching, some of the gophers stopped in their tracks, afraid to charge the humans.
The Butcher prepared for them to swarm him and planned to unleash Butcher''s Breath on the charging gophers, but they split and went wide around him, not giving him a chance. Instead, he found himself charged by the Seven Riders of the Apocalypse. The badgers on giant moles spread out into a long arc, intending to spear him with multiple lances. Trying to even the odds, he cast Jaws of the Void and sent a shark to play with one of the riders. To his disappointment, the badger speared it on his lance. The shark only got one bite before it dissipated. The rider was slowed and out of position but still coming.
From behind Ozzy, a shaft of bright sunlight flashed by, hitting one of the riders, burning completely through its shield and armor before injuring the Battle Badger and causing him to nearly fall from his mount. Suzette was advancing, her golden hair reflecting the sun as she cast Evergreen''s Shining Lance. Each time she cast the spell, green grass sprouted in a ten-foot radiance around her, and flowers bloomed. She felt confident, and her new staff felt like it was part of her.