《Roll for Initiative》 Chapter 1- The other side of the tunnel The white noise of the train disappearing is what woke me up. For those of you who have always lived near civilization, its surprising how quiet, quiet can actually be. It was as if the whole city had ceased to exist above me, and the lights on the train had gone out as well. Not even the emergency lights in the tunnel were blinking. I yawned and groped around for my suitcase. It was still here not stolen thankfully. I pull out my phone and check the time. 12:30 PM HOLY FUCK. How long had I been asleep for? Was there a blackout, and I¡¯d been forgotten? My stomach rumbled, affirming my assumption. No they just haven''t got to me yet. I dug around my backpack for a moment procuring a half finished bottle of some aloe drink, and a cinnamon roll I''d purchased from a food cart, and been reluctant to throw away. I chewed my slightly stale food, and sipped my drink as I waited for help to arrive. After like an hour of waiting I checked my phone again. 12:37, ¡°Oh come on!¡± I was getting bored, and I needed to preserve my phone battery. I rested my head against the wall of the train car, and closed my eyes. I should sleep! I will sleep! After spending about 5 minutes like that I realize I''m not tired. I let out a sigh. ¡°Fine I''m going to try to find a way out, and get killed by dog sized rats.¡± I grabbed my backpack, stood up, and started walking. After 10 feet I wondered where the door was. Two feet after that I hit a wall. It wasn''t those smooth tunnel walls or, even the cold metallic train wall. This was rough, but there was some groove like patterns smoothed down. Maybe from water? I didn''t know I wasn''t a geologist. I pulled out my handy dandy aloe-drink ? bottle, and placed it on the floor perpendicular to the wall. The bottle started rolling to the right. So I picked it up, and turned to the left. Smirking at my own genius. I could get out of the tunnel easily like this. It was slow going, as I walked being careful not to eat shit, or fall into a manhole. I whistled to myself as I walked. After a while my muscles started burning, and I had the intense desire to pee, so I took a break. I found a corner relieved myself, and rooted through my backpack again. I grabbed a block of ramen and opened it up. I chewed on it as I rested. After a brief break I started off again. It maybe 3 hours later I was thankful for these comfy sneakers, if I''d been wearing my work shoes I would have had blisters guaranteed. I''ve gotten kind of used to the dark. I can''t see, but I''m walking faster. Which causes me to go ass up when I hit what I assume is a pile of pipes, or maybe a tool box. I try to right everything, but that causes even more metal clattering. I just stop handling everything, and back up. I hear a groan somewhere far off, and a wave of heat rushes down at me. Are the trains running again? None of the tunnel lights seem to be on; so no. I continue walking upwards. The tunnel turns here. The train is a straight shot, so I must''ve of walked down the wrong tunnel. After another while the gentle incline gets a bit steeper. Not terribly, but my calves are feeling it. I trudge on upwards. A smell like rotten eggs starts to hang in the air, I panic and drop low. Is sulphuric gas heavier than air? Could I have been breathing in gas from a broken pipe this whole time? I quickly tear off a piece of my shirt, and grab at the bottle holder on my bag. Dammit my umbrella is there. I spit a bunch into the cloth, and hold it over my face hoping against hope it''s enough. I''m 85% sure that oxygen is lighter than the sulfur gas I''m breathing in. I keep heading upwards hoping the gas is sinking. After a while the ground levels out. My shirt is ruined, but I am alive right now so fuck it. As I walk across the flat plane I stumble over something again. A pile of dollar quarters, by their weight. They clatter across the ground. I hear a yawn, and freeze up. I hear someone smack their lips, and then hear some scratching. ¡°Hello?¡± I call out taking the initiative in the conversation. The person stops moving. ¡°Whgu-¡± They clear their throat. ¡°WHO DARES ENTER THE LAIR OF ME, WAYLAXILANTARIAN THE GREAT. KNAVE DO YOU THINK YOU CAN SNEAK IN, AND STEAL MY TREASURE.¡± I raise my hands in the air. ¡°No I''m just lost. I woke up down that way.¡± And point in the direction of the slope. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to get out.¡± The other person shifts a little. ¡°You aren''t trying to steal my treasure?¡± I shake my head. ¡°No, I didn''t even know treasure was here.¡± Last thing I needed to do was antagonize a crazy homeless person living in the subway, with mountains of coins he thinks are treasure. ¡°Oh okay. Um you wanna take the exit to your right and follow the left wall all the way should take you to an exit. Also, why are you covering your face?¡± He asks. ¡°Well I smelled some sulfur and thought it might be poisonous gas.¡± He chuckles. ¡°No I tried to pickle some eggs, and they went bad.¡± I lower my face mask, ¡°Oh okay. Sorry to impose, but do you happen to have some extra clothes, or maybe a walking stick or light source I could use? It''s hard for me to see in the dark.¡± I ask, I hear some objects moving, and feel a gust of air. ¡°Here I have an extra robe, and here is a staff. They are kinda old, but should be useful.¡± This guy is actually pretty nice. ¡°Thank you very much, if you are having trouble with the pickled eggs I have an extra Mason jar on me. Also adding beets is a nice twist.¡± I reach into my suitcase, and pull out a Mason jar. ¡°Thank you kind adventurer, the robe and hat were paid for with the mason jar? So here is a sum of money in exchange for your advice with beets.¡± I feel a coarse hand brush me, and he deposits a pouch of money that must weigh a couple pounds into my hand. ¡°Thank you very much Waylax.¡± I pull the robe over my clothes, and button it up. Then put on my backpack, staff in one hand, and money pouch in the other I make a beeline for the direction I was pointed in, and away from the homeless man. I put my hand along the left wall, and follow it all the way out. Onto a steep winding path down a mountain. Uh what? I like at the staff I was given, a branch of silvery wood adorned with glyphs, and sprouting a number of green leaves from the top. The robe is the same silvery white, and has a number of green leaves stitched onto its surface. I look at the pouch, and open it up. It¡¯s filled to the brim with glittering gold coins. Oh, I''m feeling a little light-headed must be that poisonous gas. I walk down the steep, narrow path. Careful not to trip, and fall what looks like 200 feet to my death. The path circles the mountain, and I continue downwards until I spot a column of smoke rising. Someone seems to have set up a camp at the base of the mountain. A group of someone''s actually. One of them shouts something, and points up at me. The others clamor to get their gear on. The sun was just rising, so I caught them in that half dreamy haze you get when waking up early. I continued to walk down the steep slope. Watching my footing, a 40-foot fall could kill you, or at least have you fracture a bone or two. *KLANGKLANGKLANG* If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. A self-important knight looking person came up to me. As a hand to catch his breath. ¡°Look I seem to have slept walked into that cave up there, and I kinda need to get to school. Do you know where a bus station is or if one of you, or your buddies can give me a ride in your car? I can wait till you guys are finished, or whatever. I don''t seem to be getting signal with my phone.¡± One of the girls has golden blonde hair, and long pointed elf ears. She throws some glittering dust in the air, her eyes glaze over, and then she falls backwards. The other members of the group rush over to help her. ¡°Greetings traveler, what are you doing, coming from the mountain of the terrible dragon Waylaxilantarian.¡± I give him an odd look. ¡°OF FUCKING COURSE ITS METHOD ACTORS.¡± I grab him by the pauldrons. ¡°I want to get home now if you or one of your fuckboys over there has a car I would appreciate a ride. No forget it.¡± I reach into the pouch, and pull out 5 gold coins. ¡°First one of you fuckos to get me to civilization gets 5 fucking gold pieces.¡± I barely have the words out of my mouth before the rogue is dropping the elf lady, and reaching for the gold in my hand. ¡°The names Pinch I''d be happy to lead you to the closest town.¡± He gives me a wide, and toothy smile obviously practiced. I roll my eyes. ¡°Let''s get going then.¡± I flip the rogue one of the coins which he catches out of the air immediately. ¡°You get the other four when we get to town.¡± I look at these rest of the party. The fighter is on the verge of tears as he polishes the smudges one made on his armor, the cleric is crouching over the passed out wizard who is still on the floor. ¡°Is your group of chuckle heads going to come or what?¡± The cleric gives me a dirty look. ¡°She needs time to rest, it''s not like we can go up the mountain anyway with her out of commission.¡± I sigh. ¡°Fine.¡± I glance around the camp for some wood, or long branches. ¡°Do you have wooden boards or a couple of long branches maybe 6 feet in length.¡± The rogue gives me an odd look, and the fighter and cleric are useless. ¡°I''ll do it myself then.¡± I walk about 20 feet into the forest surrounding the mountain. It¡¯s filled with pine trees, I realize I don''t have a knife. So I head back into the camp grab a dagger off of a small stool, and head back into the forest. It takes me about 30 minutes to find a small patch of young trees. I underestimated how wide they would be. A dagger isn''t going to cut it, and I don''t have any of my camping gear. I walk back to the camp noting where the patch of trees is. The rogue has started cooking over the fire. Some dried meats, nuts, and bits of hard cheese. Soaking them in hot water to get them to loosen up. ¡°Hey, one of you guys got a hatchet or axe?¡± The rogue turns his head at me, ¡°No?¡± I throw my hands into the air. ¡°WHAT FUCKING KIND OF ADVENTURERS ARE YOU. I BET YOU JUST THROW OPEN EVERY CHEST YOU FIND IN A DUNGEON. DO ANY OF YOU EVEN CARRY A BAG OF FLOWER?¡± The rogues eyes shift nervously, I''ve stomped up to him and the runes on my staff have started flowing. Must be something about shaking it like a glow stick. ¡°What was your plan for traps?¡± I ask shoving my finger into his chest. ¡°Traps have never been-¡± He stammers. ¡°WRONG, ALWAYS EXPECT TRAPS. WHEN THERE AREN''T ANY TRAPS THAT''S THE BEST TIME FOR A TRAP TO BE SPRUNG.¡± *KLANGKLANGKLANG* ¡°Hey no need to be so upset this is a dragon''s lair they never trap them to proud.¡± I spin on my heels. ¡°AND YOU MISTER FUCKING ARMOR. I¡¯M GLAD EVERY BANDIT, GOBLIN, ORC, AND TROGLODYTE IN THE ENTIRE FUCKING WOODS KNOWS YOUR EXACT LOCATION EVERYTIME YOU MOVE. WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FINISH BEATING THE DRAGON? EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM WILL BE WAITING OUTSIDE THAT CAVE READY TO STAB YOU IN THE NECK, AND STEAL YOUR SHIT.¡± The fighter whimpers, and back steps. ¡°Fucking useless the lot of you.¡± I take the fighters'' sword out of its scabbard on his waist. Its polished to a mirror shine, and gilded with gold. ¡°But couldn''t bring a hatchet.¡± I head off into the woods, sword resting on my shoulder. ¡°Hey. Wait, that''s a family heirloom.¡± I raise my middle finger behind me. ¡°Then you should have left it on your fucking wall at home.¡± I walk back to the small copse of trees. Hefting the sword I give a few quick chops, and take down the first thin tree fairly easily. After 15 minutes of work I''ve chopped down enough for the wizard to lay on. I drag the small trees, and sword back to the camp. I drive the sword edge down into the dirt in front of the fighter. Not bothering to talk to him. I sit down on the ground, and start to strip the thin weak branches off the trunk, with the dagger I''ve picked up. I lay the finished poles down next to each other, and grab some rope from beside a nearby tent. I lash them together, and smile at my handiwork. ¡°All done!¡± The cleric is kneeling, the wizards head resting on her lap. A blanket underneath her, like it¡¯s some sort of picnic. I smile it¡¯s cute. I walk over, and grab the edge of the blanket. Then roll it ensnaring the wizard. ¡°Hey what the fuck do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± The cleric exclaims. I drag the cleric over to the sled, and roll her onto it. ¡°Getting you, and your shitty ass party out of here. You think you can fight a dragon please. Start packing up your shit. I''ll strap ol¡¯ pointy ears to the sled, and we can get on back to civilization.¡± The cleric kinda looks at me dumbstruck. I reach into the gold pouch at my waist, and toss one at the clerk hitting her in the head. ¡°I''ll give you money too.¡± The rogues ears perk up at money, and his head spins in my direction. ¡°I don''t want your money.¡± The cleric scoffs at me. Putting on a holier than thou attitude. ¡°I''m sure you can find a starving orphan to give it to.¡± I reply. The rogue dives at the clerics feet for the coin. This guy has some serious dedication. I use some more of the rope, and tie the elf to sled. The fighter is the only one actually being useful, and has packed up most of the gear by this point. The cleric glares at me, and starts getting her shit together. When everything is said and done, I grab a piece of rope I''ve left loose and pull on the sled. It goes maybe five feet then the blanket gets caught on something, and pulls the wizard out of sled. Her face slams into the ground with a crunch. I lift her head up. ¡°Yup her nose is broken. I appreciate your acting though. Emmy in it for you.¡± I pat her on the head. Then point her nose back in the right direction with another crunch. The Fighter whimpers. I get the wizard back onto the sled, and tighten the ropes some more. Then continue dragging her. I stop for a moment. ¡°I have no idea where we are going, you idiots were just going to let me lead?¡± I say. ¡°You just kinda-¡± The fighter starts. ¡°I''ve realized I don''t care. Fighter in front, cleric in back, keep me in the middle. Rogue learn to scout if you don''t already.¡± I command. ¡°Will the-¡± ¡°Yes I''ll give you another gold.¡± The rogue practically vanishes into the forest. We walk through the forest for a long time. The rogue stopping by to deliver updates before disappearing into the forest once again. Nearly 5 hours into our walk, my hands are blistered. I''ve wrapped shreds of cloth around them. We stop for a break, and to drink some water. I reach for my suitcase to grab some ramen. Wait where the fuck is my suitcase. I retrace the events of the past 5 hours all the way up until I leave the cave holding the money pouch, and staff but not my suitcase. ¡°SON OF A FUCKING BITCH.¡± I hope the guy who is in the cave is at least nice enough to keep it protected. It has my name, and number on it. So he should be able to reach me, after the larping is finished. I sigh and grab a handful of nuts and cheese which I munch on. The wizard isn''t eating it so whatever. We finish our break, and continue on our journey. ¡°Exactly how far away is the closest town?¡± I ask. ¡°Two days by foot, but we are making good time so tomorrow afternoon at the latest.¡± The fighter says. I sigh, my hands flaring with pain. I pull the rope taught, and continue dragging the sled. Oh boy was I gonna be sore tomorrow. After another 3 hours of walking, the cleric told us we should find a place to set down for the night. ¡°Nope we walk until the sun starts to set.¡± I say not even pausing. ¡°WHAT?! YOU CAN¡¯T JUST WALK INTO OUR CAMP, AND START TELLING US WHAT TO DO.¡± She shouts. ¡°Then stop listening to me, it isn¡¯t like I walked out of a dragon''s lair alive or anything.¡± I reply. The cleric stops for a moment, let''s out a few breaths to calm herself, and then keeps following me. When the sun starts to dip the rogue tells me that there is s small clearing maybe 60 feet to the right of our current bearing. I instruct the group to head in that direction. We settle down, and the adventurers start to unpack their gear. I inspect the edge of the treeline, the trees are a decent distance apart, but close enough to be useful. ¡°Does one of you have string, or some thin wire?¡± I ask, looking at the group. They all shake their heads. ¡°Useless the lot of you.¡± I rub my temples, ¡°Cleric first watch, then fighter, then me, then rogue.¡± I grab one of the bedrolls, walkabout 10 feet from everyone else and lay down. ¡°Good fucking night.¡± I say. I''m exhausted been up since midnight. My hands are sore. I''ve tried to berate these larpers into giving up, but, that doesn''t seem likely at this point. The wizard elf has had a stroke, or is the best fucking actor on the planet. My hands fucking hurt too. How did I fucking end up in that cave anyway? Maybe this is some sort of fucked up game show. Like naked and afraid, except they kidnap you on public transportation, and pretend that you are in some medieval era. Fucking knew I should''ve watched more primitive technology. Sleep eventually over takes me. Chapter 2- Technically not lying I wake up just before the fighter touches me. I was a light sleeper, and he isn''t exactly subtle. ¡°Time for your watch.¡± He says. I''m feeling refreshed, but still groggy from sleep. I wipe the sleep from my eyes. The night is chilly, but the fire burns warm and bright. I pull the robe around me, and grip my backpack. The gold pouch tucked safely inside of it. I trudge over next to the fire, and pop a squat on the ground. The smoke immediately billowing into my face, and stinging my eyes. I stand and walk to the other side of the fire, and the wind suddenly changes direction to blow the smoke into my face. I walk, and sit 90 degrees from where I am, and the smoke decides to chill out. The stars are very pretty. No light pollution out here. I take time to bask in the wonder of the universe. No matter where I am the stars will always remain the same. The moon is waxing but hangs golden in the sky amid the stars. I stoke the fire, sending embers spiraling into the air. I let out a sigh. After some rest I''ve come to the conclusion something is wrong. Very wrong, apocalyptic even, okay maybe that''s a bit far. I root through my bag, and pull out my role-playing binder. I flip to an empty divider, and fill it with a sheaf of paper. Brainstorming has always helped me, and the crackle of fire, and chirping of night insects is soothing. I write in order of things that I thought were happening yesterday. Black out Sleepwalking Weird game show Next I wrote down some more possible answers. Switching into quest hook gear. Kidnapped. Memory lost. Teleportation. Summoning. Time jump. I put teleportation, summoning, and time jump in a separate column. Magic isn''t real, but I humor myself. I ask myself leading questions. Why was I teleported/summoned/time jumped? Who teleported/summoned/time jumped me? Where did I get teleported/summoned/time jumped to? I decided to cross out time jumped due to the fact since magic didn¡¯t exist it likely never did. So if I was in my old world I would not be able to time jump. Therefore, it was safe to assume I was transported to another world. I brushed the implications to the side for a moment. I was summoned to another world, that means I met a dra- NOPE BRUSH THOSE THOUGHTS TO THE SIDE. I decided to rewrite the remaining options. Magical freak of nature, summoning (mundane), summoning (divine). A magical freak of nature was just that, and what I thought most likely from a third person perspective. It accounted for the hands off nature of the summoning, the randomness of location, and lack of OPness. Although if a dragon had given me two pieces of equipment they would both be OP. Mundane summoning seemed wrong. No circle of wizards, no rite carved in blood, not even a sleeping wizard in a chair. Just a dark cave, although I didn''t get a look around. Which was a bad on my part. I dismissed that. Lastly was the divine intervention. Which was a 50/50 chance in my opinion. I feel like I would have some kind of meeting with them, where they gave me a quest to fight a demon lord. That wasn''t the case unless I forgot it. My quest however could be to become the demon lord, or some equivalent. Maybe a necromancer? A ¡°dark¡± god summoning me to learn the truth about the world, and then fight my friends summoned by ¡°light¡± gods who have been led astray, only to find it was them who were evil all along? Seems kinda forced. I decide I''ll refrain from fighting anyone as much as I can, just in case. I also decide I can leave my inevitable panic attack to the comfort of one the many inns that seem to thrive in fantasy worlds despite the lack of any reasonable income. The sun starts to peak over the horizon. Well I probably should''ve gotten the rogue up. Oh, well, our scout being more rested during the day is nothing bad. I tuck my binder away, I can finish the brainstorming later. I wake up the party. And by waking up I mean I got two pans brought them real close to the clerics head and slammed them together as hard as I could. She yelps, and jolts upright. ¡°Good you¡¯re awake.¡± I say smiling at her. If looks could kill I''m sure my soul would be a fine paste. I throw one of the pans at the rogue, and the other at the fighter. ¡°GOOD MORNING, VIETNAM.¡± I shout at them. The rogue does some cool ninja jump to a stand, the fighter nearly rolls into the fire. Giving himself a slight burn from a particularly warm rock. ¡°Cleric give, Wiz a once over. Let me know if her condition has worsened. Fighter, help me pack up camp, Rogue make sure no goblins are waiting to stab us in the kidneys. Be subtle, but don¡¯t be afraid to make noise if shit¡¯s going down.¡± I designate the orders. I kick dirt over the fire, and roll up the bedrolls. I toss the cleric, and fighter a bit of food, and a water skin each. With all the gear bundled, I head over to knife ears. Her nose is swollen, but she hasn¡¯t been bleeding out of the nose anymore, and nothing else seems to be wrong. I pass my fingers under her nostrils, she¡¯s still breathing, and regularly too. I pull one of the books I have in my bag out, and tuck it under her head. I tighten her bindings again. ¡°She is doing fine, she¡¯ll freak about her nose though.¡± The Cleric says. I shrug, ¡°Her nose shouldn¡¯t have been so weak.¡± I reply. The Cleric opens her mouth to say something, furrows her brow and then closes it. She turns away, and picks up her bag. The rogue comes back, I can hear him rummaging through his bag behind me. ¡°Let¡¯s head out then.¡± One of the blisters on my hands pops nearly immediately. My hands are totally fucked. I tie the rope around my waist, and find it awkward to pull on the rope like this. I sigh, and try looping it around my backpack instead. This is much better although the straps are pulling on my shoulder, and are kinda annoying. Better than my hands being blistered to shit though. Rogue is off in the forest doing his thing, and Fighter and Cleric have formed up in the same positions as yesterday. While we walk, and since my hands are free I lift my staff. ¡°Go web!¡± I wave the staff around. ¡°Shazam, abracadabra, open sesame, make my monster grow, let it rip, Plus Ultra, excelsior, Pikachu I choose you, you shall not pass, it was me DIO, reese''s puffs peanut butter chocolate flavor.¡± Nothing changed with the staff though. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Cleric asks. ¡°Trying to get this thing to work.¡± I knock the staff head on the ground. ¡°That''s not how-¡± ¡°shush! Do you hear that.¡± I pause momentarily, and cock my head. ¡°It''s the sound of you shutting the fuck up.¡± I decide walking and carrying someone is probably not conducive to concentration which I need. Two hours into the walk, we spot a plume of smoke denoting a town, and a dirt road starts to form on the ground. I can feel panic creeping up my body, like the day before a big test you are positive you are going to fail. But I suppress it. The town palisades come into view, and some kid appears out of the bushes somewhere and goes running into town. ¡°THEY¡¯RE BACK! THEY¡¯RE BACK!¡± He shouts before disappearing into the town. People begin to gather inside of the town. Of course pointy ears takes this as her cue to begin screaming at the top of her lungs. The cleric rushes over to her, and tries to calm her down. The town begins to circle the party. An extremely self-important armored man, walks up to us. ¡°What are you lot doing back? I thought you were going to fight the Dread Beast?¡± He questions the fighter with an accusatory glare.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I got them out of there; these fucko¡¯s wouldn¡¯t last against a tribe of goblins, let alone a grown Dragon.¡± I reply. The man glares at me. ¡°And who are you?¡± He asks, obviously upset at me. ¡°Who the fuck are you? Actually I don¡¯t care let me speak to whoever is in charge.¡± I reply. The sooner I could get the fuck out of this the better. A murmur ripples through the crowd. The man begins to turn a shade of red. ¡°I AM IN CHARGE! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?¡± I knew it was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but he just left me the opportunity. ¡°The person who walked out of Waylaxilantarians cave alive.¡± I reply. ¡°Robe and staff of ages past, Mold the world into his cast. Legions break upon his shield, Fear the thunder that he wields.¡± Ol¡¯ knife ears chimes in. Nice little rhyme I''ve got to say. The crowd erupts into whispers. I could practically see the argument in the man''s head. I was a threat to his authority if I was a nobody, but if I was who they said I was then he couldn''t risk offending me. ¡°Cleric shut her up; use a sleeping spell...or a brick.¡± I don¡¯t even look over my shoulder. I just continued to stare down the guard. ¡°I asked to speak to whose in charge, this lot were woefully under-prepared, take me to the responsible authority. Obviously they have no clue what the hell they are doing.¡± This elicits an immediate response. Several members of the crowd cry out, and the guard smirks. ¡°You are accused of dissenting the crown, will you come willingly?¡± He gives me an evil glare, and pulls a pair of iron manacles off of his belt. Sometimes I should keep my mouth shut. But why the fuck would the crown send a bunch of teenagers to fight this dragon. They have no clue what the fuck they are doing. ¡°As long as you take me king himself.¡± I drop my backpack, and heft the staff over my shoulder. I don¡¯t enter into a threatening stance, but I let the threat hang. I''m hoping he backs down, but this guy thinks he''s a big man. Well he is a big man, and the crowd jeers him on. ¡°Are you gonna do something?¡± Rogue asks, he doesn¡¯t like the look of the crowd, and he isn''t offered a moment to escape. At least not one where he gets away. I thumb my phone in my pocket. Hitting the on button. ¡°Is wiz conscious enough to cast thaumaturgy?¡± I ask back. ¡°Uh, what? Yeah, sure. She is groggy, but her fit is over.¡± He replies. ¡°Just fucking tell her to cast the spell that makes noises really fucking loud on the box in my hand.¡± The guard is moving closer. I can feel the screen heating up. I punch in my password on reflex. I pull it out of pocket needing my sight for the next part. This causes the guard to hesitate. The glowing box a tool for extreme power, and also used for looking at pictures of cats on the internet. I flip to one of the those apps where you click a button, and it plays a sound. It was filled with a number of stock sounds like police siren, and thunder. ¡°Now!¡± I say. Pressing the button, then quickly swiping my screen to pull up the flashlight. Flicking the button once to simulate the visuals. Now I don''t know if you have ever stood in the middle of an explosion while it went off, but that''s what I assume this sounded like. Absolutely deafening noise. My ears were still ringing, and I felt something wet trickle from them. I reach up to touch my ears they are bleeding. Some people have outright collapsed. Others are sprinting away as fast as they can. The guard has fallen over in fright. I walk up to him, blood running down my neck. ¡°So about talking to that higher authority.¡± I smile at him. I''m 90% sure I said that but I can''t hear my own voice. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and suddenly my hearing returns to me. ¡°Thank you Cleric.¡± I get a sigh in reply. ¡°I turn around everyone alright then?¡± Rogue managed to cover his ears, but Fighter and Wizard are still kinda dazed by it. Wizard is now unbound and sitting on the sled. I grab my backpack off the ground, and the book that was under Wizards head. I walk over to the guard, and stick my hand out to help him up. ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Jonathan do you have an Inn, or guard house where we can talk to the town head?¡± He''s taken aback by my sudden shift in attitude, but accepts my hand. ¡°Damien, pleasure to meet you Grand Magus Jonathan.¡± His own personality has straightened out, giving me respect when I would have been satisfied with him ignoring me. ¡°Cleric find an Inn with locking doors, cheap. Rogue go with her. Fighter, wizard shopping trip. Get a sled like the one I made, two pots of honey you can hold in a hand each, 60 sheets of a cheap paper or, parchment. A waterproof scroll case, a bag of flour, 5 pouches you can easily reach into and hook onto a belt, a waterproof backpack, two bags of 100 ball bearings, one bag of caltrops 100, a 20-foot pole something collapsible if you can, 200 feet of rope in 50 foot segments, a collapsible ladder, 60 feet of thin wire or sturdy string, actually 50 feet of each, 5 additional daggers, two water pouches, and top up the rations to 3 weeks for each of us.¡± I toss the bag of money to Fighter who fumbles a bit but catches it. Wizard looks lost, but Fighter has grabbed her arm, and is dragging her along. ¡°Also get a fucking hatchet. Shall we go?¡± I ask the guard he is completely befuddled, but nods. The walk to the largest building in the town, which is also the only two story, and stone building in town, is brief. It has a central location. Most of the people walking around are frightened, and very poor looking. Not emaciated or dirty, but the clothing is practically ancient, and has been patched over so many times its it''s hard to tell the difference between shirt, and patch. We enter the stone building and are greeted by two guards wearing extremely shoddy armor. A cell has a drunk man, with vomit all down his front, sleeping in it. A large wooden table, with a map of the area burned into it, sits in the center of the room. The guard sits down on one side of the table, and beckons me to sit. ¡°I''m Constable Damien, no lord rules these lands, so I''m the highest authority.¡± Guess he wasn''t lying. A young boy probably 12 rushes over with a mug in each hand. He places one in front of each of us. ¡°Sorry for being rude earlier, the adventurers are just on a bit of a time limit.¡± I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Time limit?¡± ¡°I¡¯m assuming you are a foreigner otherwise you would know.¡± I nod at him. ¡°Last year the king died, his wife died giving birth to his son, and he drank himself to death. He had no other children, and his current son is not even 2 years old. So a member of a branch family was chosen to assume the throne. That was Phineas.¡± He says. ¡°Don¡¯t know him.¡± I reply. ¡°The armored one. You called him Fighter. Anyway, his bloodline isn''t strong enough you see, since the crown has the bloodline of dragon slayers. So to prove that he is worthy of ascending the throne he must slay a dragon.¡± I nod I''m following along so far. ¡°Why the time limit?¡± He grimaces. ¡°Well a prophecy exists, that tells that if a throne remains empty for too long, a being of unimaginable power from beyond the stars, will rise from beneath the earth, and use its foreign knowledge to plunge the world into a war that changes it forever. And that can''t be good.¡± ¡°Yeah sounds pretty bad.¡± FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, fucking fuckity fuck. ¡°Not a big fan of prophecies though, to inaccurate. Any signs leading up to this beings'' arrival?¡± He puts his hand to his chin. ¡°Well the first thing the being is supposed to do is make two deals in the dark. But our lords like peace, so I doubt they would accept something like that.¡± Yup, uh huh. So definitely stay out of wars. ¡°Onto a lighter topic, why live so close to a dragon?¡± He takes a sip of the drink. ¡°Everyone here is a free man, normally you work indentured to a lord for protection. But you can petition a lord to live here, and you become a free man.¡± I nod and take a sip of my drink too. Eugh alcohol, I place it down. ¡°Yeah but why live here in the first place? What are you producing that is so important?¡± He whistles, and something comes sailing over my head. He smiles at me holding up a fat orange-yellow fruit. ¡°These, they call them Dragon Eyes.¡± He rotates the fruit showing the stem which is shaped like the eye of a cat, but I guess dragons as well. ¡°They last about half a year, and grow from early spring until late fall. They aren¡¯t great tasting, but they are as hardy as a hot bowl of stew. Three of these could feed you a day. They grow on bushes everywhere too. Only problem is they only grow around dragon lairs.¡± He rolls it across the table to me. No wonder everyone looks so healthy they probably eat these for every meal. I grab the dagger I accosted from the party, and slice it open. It has a rind like an orange, although the outside is smooth. The inside is firm, and porous, the center looks like a mushroom with webbing holding what I assumed is a seed. I take a bite, it''s very bland. No other way to describe it. ¡°Not many are around, even less live in places people can, fewer still don¡¯t kill anyone that steps foot on their land. Waylaxilantarian sleeps most of the time, so they were hoping to catch him unawares and kill him with Dragon slayer. The sword.¡± Oh, the one I used to cut down trees. ¡°If you walked out of his cave though, then I guess he''ll be asleep forever now though. Which brings up another interesting dilemma.¡± He walks over to a wooden board with sheets of parchment nailed to it. He pulls one off, and slides it to me. It''s a bounty, BY DECLARATION OF THE CROWN. Hereby any individuals who slay a dragon on this kingdoms ground may assume lordship of said land, by reporting to a representative of the crown. In addition to this they may also receive a balance of 10000 gold pieces in labor, and resources for development of said land. At least 4 people must bare witness, or a member of the royal family. Well that''s a thing. ¡°I have no doubt that the group will bare witness for you, and Phineas would certainly be enough alone. Only problem is the matter of the throne now.¡± He holds his face in his hands. I smile at him. ¡°That''s easy I¡¯d say. Change the ruling body.¡± He looks at me like I''ve just killed a puppy. ¡°If there is no throne to be emptied, then the prophecy can''t be fulfilled.¡± He stares at me for a moment, ¡°That almost makes sense. We can reinstate the throne when the prince is of age. I''ll start drafting letters.¡± He whistles to one of the guards. ¡°Find Prince Phineas I''ll need his seal.¡± I take that as my cue to leave. About a minute after I leave the guards building the Rogue pops up beside me. ¡°Cle- Anise found an Inn called Dragon''s lair.¡± I give him a look, ¡°A little on the nose there ain''t it?¡± I reply, he shrugs. ¡°She found it funny.¡± I sigh, ¡°Lead the way. Wizard, and Fighter?¡± I ask. ¡°Cadence, is already there. Fi-neas, is getting rounded up by the guards already.¡± We arrive at the ¡®Dragon¡¯s Lair¡¯ pretty soon. A weathered sign of a red tail wrapping around a pile of gold. The door swings open easily. A couple of tables have been shoved together with a pile of gear on them. Wizard and Cleric are sitting down. A bowl of something, and a mug of something next to them. I pull out a chair, and start to divvy up the loot. Time to turn these guys into proper adventurers. Chapter 3- I heard you like Dungeons and Dragons It takes a couple of hours for Fighter to return. Cleric, Rogue, and Wizard make conversation, emphasizing their own, and each others names as often as possible. I introduced myself, and listened to them talk idly. The inn keep was nice enough. A large woman who joked about her dwarven heritage. Refusing to serve me another drink until ¡°lord magus has some dragons blood ale, I''ve been saving for a rainy day.¡± I finally relented, and she poured me a mug of it. It was like someone poured equal parts fireball, hot sauce, and vodka. A pint mug of this mind you, and she watched me until I drank the whole thing. I''ve never felt so violated in my life. I started the conversation when Fighter arrived though. ¡°You are the lousiest excuse for adventurers I''ve ever seen. I''ve overseen ten year olds with more of a knack for adventuring then you.¡± They all look at me dumbly. ¡°Why did I ask you to buy flower? Can anyone answer? The difference between a trap and environmental hazard? What the honey is for? Or the ball bearings? Can any of you answer me?¡± The cleric slams her hands on the table, ¡°What about you? How many dragons have you killed huh?¡± I scratched my head none in real life. But not including video games, 12 in my Role Playing career. ¡°12 of the dragons that I know of I''ve killed.¡± That causes silence. I hold out my hand towards Fighter. ¡°Sword,¡± He draws it, and hand it to me. ¡°Useless, the dragonbane enchantment is only effective if the dragon fails to resist its effect which doesn¡¯t happen often. I would put this right back on the wall at home, and never touch it again.¡± I hand the sword back to him. ¡°Also it¡¯s two handed so if you are going sword and board which it seems from your armor a shield would be recommended. I would suggest a bastard sword, since if you lose your shield you can use two hands.¡± I turn to face the wizard. ¡°Start casting a spell, any spell.¡± She nods, and starts casting one at me. I immediately punch her in the nose. Her hands fly to her face, and she screams in pain. ¡°What the fuck! You asked me to cast one!¡± I shake my head. ¡°If I can do that so can someone else, and they are gonna have a weapon.¡± I lift one of the daggers off the table. Cleric and Rogue both look at me. ¡°Pass me one of pots of honey.¡± The cleric slides one over. I pop the top off with the dagger. I bring the dagger down on the rogues hand, he nimbly dodges out of the way, but not before the dagger I had on my waist has drawn a deep line along the outside of his arm. ¡°Gods above your crazy!¡± The cleric shouts, she backs away from table her chair scraping the ground. I flip the rogue a gold coin he catches it with his uninjured arm. ¡°Heal him without using magic. Rogue from now on learn to fight using your non-dominant hand.¡± He nods. ¡°Whatever you say moneybags.¡± I smile, but don''t say anything. ¡°I¡¯ll divvy up the items now, and explain each of their uses.¡± I shuffle the items into the order I want them. Scooping a pouch full of flour for everyone myself included. ¡°Anyone wanna guess what flour is for?¡± I ask. ¡°Baking?¡± Fighter asks. I lift up the staff, and hit him on the head with it. ¡°Invisibility,¡± I say. ¡°If something is invisible, or you think there''s something invisible throw handfuls of flour around. It can also be placed around cracks in a sealed room to see if air is flowing, or under someone''s nostrils to see if they are breathing. It''s also highly flammable when floating in the air.¡± I hand a pouch of the flour to everyone. Clipping one onto my own belt. Cleric has done a shoddy job of patching the wound. ¡°Atrocious the wound is going to be infected, and the wrapping will fall the moment he does anything strenuous.¡± I remove the cloth wrap. ¡°Some water, and your strongest clear spirit.¡± I call to the innkeeper. She nods and darts away coming back with a mug of something a little murky, and a bowl of water. ¡°Arm,¡± Rogue holds his arm out, I hand him the mug of the clear spirit. ¡°Take a drink.¡± He nods, and takes a mouthful. I place a cloth under his arm and dribble some of the spirit on the wound. He let''s put a muffled scream. I dip a cloth in the water and clean around the wound, and taking a dry cloth I wipe it down. I take the pot of honey, and one of the sheets of paper. I slather some honey over the wound, and then put a little over the edges of the paper, and place it over the wound. I turn to Cleric. ¡°You should be able to do this in the midst of combat. Everyone should be able to do this to some extent, but Cleric should be able to do this perfectly at any time. Even in your sleep. Clean the wound three times a day, replacing the wrapping with a new one every time.¡± I slide the waterproof scroll case, the dagger, and 30 of the remaining 59 sheets of paper to Wizard. ¡°The use for these should be obvious, I''ll teach you how to make some simple codes so you can swap information easily, without the contents being known. Especially useful for a spellbook you don''t want others stealing from.¡± I slide the waterproof backpack and rest of the paper to Rogue with 100 of the ball bearings and the caltrops, 50 feet of the rope, the collapsible pole, which is 30 feet and breaks into 5 six foot 6 segments, another one of the daggers, the thin wire, and one of the honey pots. ¡°Ball bearings, and caltrops are great for running away. Paper and some honey slathered on is an excellent way to break a window. Learn how to make traps with this, and learn how to disable traps with this.¡± I point to the wire, and collapsible pole respectively. Cleric gets, the other bag of ball bearing the sturdy string, the 3rd dagger, 50 feet of the rope, and the second jar of honey. ¡°Tie wounds with the string, use rope for rope things, ball bearing to run away, and honey to heal?¡± The cleric asks questioningly. I smile, and nod.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°I thought rogue was the only one with hope, but you start to get it.¡± I take a dagger, a bundle of rope, the hatchet, and both of the water pouches. Rest of the gear goes to the fighter. ¡°You have enough to worry about with your armor, and taking hits. Your extra time should go to learning the sword, and shield.¡± The sun is begging to set outside. I decide that is a good time to wrap up. ¡°Everyone get a good night''s rest. Training begins tomorrow.¡± I tell them. I tip a gold coin to the tavern keeper, and head upstairs. I don¡¯t plan to sleep though. Now is the time for my panic attack. I lay down on the bed, feeling it creep up my body numbing my limbs. My heart starts to race. I have trouble controlling my breathing, and start fast shallow breaths that quickly make me dizzy. I clench at my tightening chest. And turn quickly to expel the contents of my stomach onto the floor. I was no longer earth. I would never see my family, and friends, at least not in the foreseeable future. I had met a dragon who had given me gifts I didn¡¯t know how to use. I didn''t kill a dragon, but everyone thinks I did. And that is a problem I''ll have to deal with. I was useless, I couldn''t fight, hated talking to people, and wasn''t particularly talented at learning. I was bossing these adventurers around, while I hadn''t killed anything before. Well at least not in combat. I decided I needed a plan. Or at least some goals. I got off the bed, on the opposite side so I didn''t step in the vomit, and pulled my binder out again. I probably should have gotten myself some paper as well. A gas mask would do nicely too. The sled is being made. The rogue might also benefit from a garrote. What weapon did the cleric even use? A maul maybe? I should have her switch to a mace. Something spiked perhaps. Could also use some pistons or metal spikes, and a claw hammer. I fucking forgot about chalk, ink, and charcoal. A crowbar. Bottles. Manacles, oil, bells, a mirror, some fucking clothes to wear so I don''t stand out. A shovel, an sledge hammer, a tent and bedroll for myself. Soap, a whistle, and air dry clay too. So much fucking stuff to buy. I also had to figure out, what to do about the fucking egg pickling dragon, WHO HAS MY LUGGAGE BTW. Maybe a peace offering in the form of many different pickled foods. The only thing better than killing a dragon is getting one to fight for you right? I look down at the blank sheet of paper. I haven''t even started on my goal list.
  1. Go shopping AGAIN!!!!!!
  2. Become more familiar with legends
  3. Learn some stuff about the world
  4. Come up with an excuse for who I am
  5. Learn about indigenous wildlife
  6. Don¡¯t get killed by a dragon when rumors start to spread you have killed them
  7. Don''t get killed by other dragons that think you have killed a dragon
  8. Bring pickled foods to dragon and explain the situation. Make sure not to get killed by him/her/it
  9. Learn about the nobles
  10. Don''t get killed in a noble war, that thinking back on you might start by asking to get rid of the king
  11. Try not to start a prophecy you are unwittingly part of, but seem to be fulfilling anyway
  12. Dabble in magic
  13. Dabble in armed combat (polearm best arm?)
  14. Learn some stuff about the land you now seem to be rolling
  15. Don''t plunge the world into an unending war as prophesied
  16. Don''t die
  17. Remember not to die
  18. Try not to die
  19. Pickle some foods
  20. Also don¡¯t die
I wouldn''t say these were in exactly the order of importance, but it was close enough. I also jotted some notes down for my shopping spree, just anything I''d forgotten. I lifted my pen up. This could be an interesting export as well I''ll note it down. I''m not sure how ballpoint pens actually work, but I assume it has something to do with a tiny ball in the point. I also decide to add a few more things to take care of later. Maybe as shortcuts to a more ¡°modern" world. Running water is one, also electricity, though well need actually appliances for it to be useful, public schooling could be useful too, maybe fostering a mentor program with some of the skilled workers in town. I had watched one episode of primitive technology, and it was the one about Roman concrete. That could be useful, if I could remember the recipe. I write it down, and what I can remember about the recipe. Back onto public development, I should probably get together with some workers, and talk about the logistics of the town. I don''t really feel like upscaling, and hoping it works out. Keeping the constabulary in a central location, I draft a grid like pattern around it. I divide it up into different sections with main roads coming from 8 direction for goods to be moved along. I also decide to add rings of walls, that cut through the grid. One around the constabulary, another around where I have designated as the current end to the town. The a third to where the first expansion I would like to add is. Each ring has a road that stretches along the base of the wall for carts, and wagons. A park that extends 20 feet from the wall with a dirt path, and then another road for carts. The constabulary has a park that stretches 40 feet from.the closest wall with no building between it and the wall. A good place to bring the people during a siege. I intersperse some parks throughout the grid. I was going to designate which ones would get fountains before I realize I don¡¯t know how we are getting water. I opt to adding aqueducts along the streets. Well not along them, but raised above the streets, and covered. The main pipes would bring it along the 8 main roads, and then disperse it to the rest of the city. I also made a note to look into hollow bricks, if we could also transport water through the walls that could be useful. I assumed a water source was nearby, since most everyone looked clean. I should probably outlaw dumping of refuse into it. Wait are dryads a thing? Could I transport, or recruit some to take care of the parks? I spent most of remaining hours of the night planning out the city, then going off on tangents for things I would probably need or would help, then going on tangents for those tangents, and so on. A knock on the door wrests me from my ramblings. I notice the mid morning sun, filtering through the window. The knocking returns, ¡°Lord Magus, Constable Damien is waiting for you.¡± I tuck my binder under my arm, and shamble to the door, avoiding the vomit. Snagging a small drawstring bag from my back pack as I go. Pulling it open, which startles the innkeeper. She crinkles her nose probably at the smell, she realizes she is making a face and rights it. ¡°Lord magus I would encourage you to fetch me, or one of the maids to clean your room in the future if such an incident should happen again.¡± She whistles, and a girl of 16 comes sprinting up the stairs with a bucket, and some cloth. ¡°There is a restroom at the end of the hall, I suggest you freshen up.¡± She grabs my shoulders, and turns me in the direction of the room then pushes me slightly forward. I realize how much I have to use the bathroom, I pull open the binder and write toothbrush, and towel on the shopping list. I relieve myself, and splash my face with some water from a brass basin sunken into a table. I walk out of the bathroom, and down the hall. The maid walks out of my room as I pass. ¡°Sorry,¡± I mutter an apology. She smiles. ¡°Don¡¯t worry when hammer week comes ¡®round look be looking at this as a fond memory. Lily,¡± She says. ¡°Jonathan, I owe you one.¡± I head down the stairs, Lily disappears into a small closet with the bucket and soiled cloth. The party is sitting around a table eating. The constable is at the table next to them. I pull out four character sheets, and pass them to the party. ¡°Fill these out, save questions until later.¡± I sit across from the Constable who has a stack of papers next to him. A bowl of porridge with bits of dragon eye dropped in, and a mug of what looks like a bloody Mary, is brought over. ¡°The late king was fairly competent before his wife''s death. Making sure that the constabulary had the proper paperwork. I just need a few signatures, a brief description of the events, and give you a seal and house name unless you already have one.¡± Damien says. ¡°Like a last name?¡± Damien shakes his head. ¡°Usually the main family keeps the house name, and the branch families have different last names, but it¡¯s not a law, or anything.¡± I think for a moment. Before a thought springs into my head. I pull open the binder, and quickly jot down the thought. A gear for my seal, and my emblem is a pair of hands rotating it. ¡®Ever forward¡¯ I write down beneath it. I slide the page to him. He smirks, ¡°That could work, very dwarvish. What are the words?¡± He asks. ¡°A motto, if my house could be summed up in a few words, what they are, what they strive to be, the dream of my house. Ever forward.¡± He scribbles something down be each one of the letters. ¡°Hah, the nobles will love this. Who can come up with the best motto will be a way for them to show off, for ages.¡± He chuckles, and starts sliding me various sheets of paper. ¡°sign here, initial here, write the events in the cave summed up in less than 50 words here, here, and here. Sign here again¡­ and that final initial should just about finish up the paper¡¯s we can do right now. Other stuff should take some time.¡± Thank fuck I just bought a 30 pack of pens 4 days ago. I''ll be through them all in a month at this rate. Really should learn how to write with a quill. ¡°I''ll be back tomorrow to organize some papers, make sure you have the day clear since we will likely be all over town commissioning things for you. And we''ll have to discuss the 10,000 gold in resources, and what you''ll be ordering from whom. Have a pleasant morning.¡± He gets up takes his papers, and walks out the door. I glance at the other table with the good for nothings. Snatching Fighters character sheet. ¡°Let''s see here, mmhmm, yeah, ehh, okay.¡± I cross out some of the numbers rewriting in my own assumptions. ¡°What are these for?¡± Wizard asks. ¡°Training exercises.¡± I grab rogues sheet. Actually filled it out decently. None of them have AC, or feats filled out. ¡°AC is armor class which I''d 10 baseline, plus your dex dex bonus. If you wear armor it has a Dex cap.¡± I tell them. ¡°What is a feat?¡± Cleric asks. ¡°A special ability or bonus that your race doesn¡¯t give you although classes can give you them, and humans start with a free feat.¡± I get a round of blank faces. ¡°Just forget about it.¡± I prop my binder up on the table, a few pieces of loose leaf on the table. ¡°Let''s start training with a simple exercise. We call this dungeons, and dragons.¡± Chapter 4- Rulers old and new I dump the drawstring bag onto the table. Letting the dice clatter across the table. ¡°This is a thought exercise. I will explain as we go along.¡± I pass a 20 sided die to each of them. ¡°The Adventurers guild has given you a request.-¡± I start. ¡°What is an adventurers guild?¡± Fighter asks. ¡°A guild comprised of explorers, mercenaries, researchers, and combatants of varying skill level. Tasks, requests, and quests are provided to the guild by third parties, and the adventurers are able to take said request to gain money, fame and influence. Now don''t interrupt I''m the DM.¡± I explain to him. ¡°but what''s a -" I roll a d4. ¡°You take 2 damage.¡± He shuts up. ¡°The adventurers guild has given you a request. A group of kobolds has taken residence in an abandoned dwarven ruin. They''ve been harassing travellers on the road...that wraps up the training for today.¡± I started the game a little over 8 hours ago. They all look mentally drained. This is meant to be a training exercise survive the encounters, and get the loot. Not hand hildy escort you through the first few levels. Rogue understands what he is meant to be doing fairly competently, and the Cleric to a lesser extent. Fighter just bumbles his way through the whole session though surviving through dumb luck, and Wizard suffers from a severe case of damsel in distress syndrome. Failing wisdom saves for sleep spells and falling unconscious. Failing reflex saves for falling rocks and falling unconscious. Getting hit at the start of every fight and falling unconscious. The one time she was awake she deciphered ancient eldritch script that caused her.to.fall unconscious. The cleric used all her heals in no time. ¡°I''m gonna go take a nap.¡± Wizard says, trudging off. ¡°Again?¡± Rogue smirks. A couple from a nearby table goes sailing over his head. ¡°Oh fuck off.¡± The group around the table laughs. We¡¯d eaten through a lot of food and a few rounds of ale, just water for me though. The party was stressed the entire time their fake death a terrifying prospect. They were playing themselves so a death in the game would have meant a death in real life, at least that''s how I, and they treated it. I had refrained from coaching them during the session letting them make their own mistakes. I lift a sheet of paper, passing it between the remaining three. ¡°Things to improve on. Never split damage. If you can take a person down with a single strike do it. Use the environment to your advantage, the buildings may be stone. That just makes them squish people inside them easier if they fall. The rest was pretty decent. You''ll get better with experience.¡± I grab their character sheets, packing them away in the binder. I myself am exhausted. ¡°This exercise is amazing. Where did you learn something like this?¡± Cleric asks. I shrug. ¡°Actually where I''m from people do this for fun.¡± She looks at me wide eyed. ¡°I''m going harder on you treating it like real life, but this was originally made for people who wanted to go on adventures, but couldn''t.¡± She nods, ¡°And where are you from?¡± She asks. ¡°Far away.¡± I reply. ¡°The white desert? I never seen anyone with your hair.¡± ¡°Farther¡± ¡°Renshin?¡± I shake my head. ¡°Past the endless sea?¡± ¡°Keep going.¡± I take a sip of my drink. ¡°Avalon?¡± I sputter, ¡°How do you know that name?¡± She squints her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s a fairly common legend. The king, and queen of Fey led by Morgana Lefaye fled their ancestral home. The Warlock Merlin and the Dread King, and his eternal legion chased them here on Avalon, Isle of the damned.¡± I scratch my chin. ¡°That story is a little backwards isn''t it.¡± Cleric squints at me. ¡°How so?¡± ¡°Morgana Lefaye betrayed Merlin her mentor, who transformed into a tree. Fuzzy on that part a bit. King art-" Cleric slams her hand over my mouth. ¡°Saying his name invites bad luck into your house.¡± I quirk, an eyebrow. ¡°Well Mordred betrayed the king and the knights of the round table laid his body to rest on Avalon. Which then vanished from the British isles. Britania. At least according to legend.¡± ¡°You are from the fey lands then?¡± I shrug. ¡°Guess so? Kinda happened a long time ago. Nobody thinks the story is real.¡±¡± She lets out a sigh. ¡°Just don¡¯t talk about this around Elves, or fairies, or any fey okay? They are kinda salty over the whole thing, and saying that nobody remembers would be like pouring salt on the wound.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. I think for a moment, ¡°It¡¯s not that they are forgotten it¡¯s just a story. A man pulling excalibur-¡± ¡°AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!¡± Cleric glares at me. ¡°HELP! HELP!¡± Someone is causing a commotion in the street. The staff resting on the chair seems to vibrate. I think back for a moment, I hadn¡¯t brought this down. I leave my gear at the table, grab the staff, and walk out of Inn. A bloody woman, is stumbling through town. She grips an arm, not her arm, a loose arm severed from someone body in her hand. The pungent smell of blood washes over me. I¡¯d dealt with worse. My staff hums once more, tugging me towards the direction she came from. ¡°Woah slow down buddy, every woman in town will be chasing me down at this rate.¡± The staff seems to hear me, and mellows out. Letting out a mellow whirr, like a fan. I head over to the woman, who has drawn a respectable crowd. I step through the crowd which parts for me, and into the small circle of emptiness the woman stands in. ¡°G-g-goblins, in the woods, coming here.¡± She collapses her message said. ¡°Get a healer!¡± I command. ¡°ROGUE GET WIZARD, WE ARE GOING HUNTING! CLERIC, FIGHTER ON ME.¡± I shout over the crowd. ¡°REST OF YOU LOT, THOSE WHO CAN FIGHT GRAB A WEAPON, THOSE WHO CAN¡¯T GRAB ONE, AND HIDE INDOORS.¡± The staff hums pulses with light rising from the bottom to the top, the robe billows in a non-existent wind. I stride through the crowd, towards the edge of town, and the palisades. The familiar KLANG of Fighters armor behind me. ¡°Goblins are an excellent opponent of the burgeoning adventurer. Goblins are a naturally cowardly creature, most afraid of dogs, horses, and words. They consider books to be evil able to entrap the souls of goblins inside. Depending on the situation this can act as a demoralizer, or something to further their fury. Particularly conniving goblins have been known to follow Orc¡¯s, or other equally cruel beings. Don¡¯t let this be a deterrent however, as goblins make excellent thieves, and rogues. Their small stature, and natural stealthiness a fantastic benefit. Thus an unorthodox, but excellent choice for thieves, and assassins guilds. Goblins are also natural gloats, and often inflate tails of their own prowess. The oldest goblins that tell the tallest tails were likely the weakest and most cowardly of all. Cleric why is this information useful?¡± We are approaching the palisades now some guards are dragging a body missing an arm further into the town. ¡°Uhhhm, we can goad the goblins into making mistakes. And use ones that we capture against the others? Also we can frighten them using dogs, horses, or books.¡± I nod my head. ¡°Wizard?¡± I ask. ¡°What? Yeah.¡± She calls back followed by a yawn. ¡°Cast mage hand, and have it hold up the binder. I¡¯ll let you know when.¡± A bush nearly 30 feet into the woods rustles. An arrow soars out and embeds in the ground a few feet to my right. Holy fuck that was close. Two more arrows fly from the woods, one on a direct line to my chest stops a foot away from me in mid air. A golden glow. From around me halting it in place. The arrow falling to the ground. ¡°I thought there was real danger not a bunch of WORTHLESS GOBLINS. Cowardly vermin WON¡¯T EVER DO ANYTHING MEMORABLE.¡± I stand still, and when none of the attackers come out I turn around. I hear a snap of a bow, and the golden shield activates 5 times. The soft clatter of wood behind me. Cleric sucks in a breath. I smirk. ¡°Cleric, you must have faith.¡± I pull the dagger from my belt, and hand it to Rogue. ¡°Hit one.¡± He takes the dagger from me, throws the blade into the air a few times. I throw him a gold coin. His arm whips, I hear a strangled scream, and a body falling through the branches. It hits the ground with a thud. I turn to face the forest again. ¡°If you come out now you get to live.¡± I pause for a moment, then whisper to the group. ¡°Leave the smallest one alive.¡± I hold the binder out in my hand, and it lifts into the air. I flip through, and through the pages. I lift my staff in the air, and begin to speak. The goblins come tumbling out of the bushes. 9 in total the tenth laying on the ground already. ¡°Watch the trees, to few of them.¡± They are kneeling on the ground blubbering, snot running out of their noses. One of them is bowing down, sobbing. I approach them. ¡°Why are you here?¡± I say, my staff raised above the largest one. They continue to mutter, and beg. ¡°Fine I will kill one of you by vote every time you fail to answer my question. If no one votes you all die. Choose someone now!¡± The other goblins gather up, and immediately shove forward the smallest one. I pat his head, ¡°Close your eyes this will be quick.¡± I whistle, Rogue takes the first one down. A dagger burying into the goblins heart. Fighter is upon them then. He butchers the surprised goblins. The sword made for killing dragons just as efficient at butchering goblins. Wizard throws a spell which causes the flesh on one to melt off. The small weak creatures lay in piles of blood and broken bones. The small goblin in front of me shivering. He flinches at every move. I squat down in front of him. ¡°Are there more?¡± I ask softly. He hasn''t opened his eyes yet. ¡°r-ran,¡± He stutters. ¡°b-book man scary man, demon. We small, or stupid goblins stay behind.¡± I stand up. ¡°You are a small goblin. Follow me,¡± I start to walk away, wiping a bit of blood off my face with the robe. The goblin let''s out a small gasp, presumably looking at the corpses. ¡°Hold onto that fear little one, it will serve you well.¡± I tell the goblin. I hear the pitter patter of little feet, and feel a small trembling hand grab the edge of my robe. I lead him through town, and to the constabulary. Damien is shouting orders at some of the guards who dip out of the room. He looks at me, and then to the small trembling green creature. He unsheathes his blade. The goblin yelps and crawls under my robe. ¡°Put this one in a cell.¡± Damien squints at me. ¡°Are you sure, it¡¯d sooner stab us in the back then return the favor.¡± I smile. ¡°This one is smart. I''m going to try some experiments on him. For that he''ll need to be fattened up. Make sure he gets enough food to eat, and is kept clean.¡± I pull him out from under my robe, and pinch his skinny arm. ¡°Why are you starving?¡± He looks at me. ¡°no fude.¡± I grab a dragon eye. ¡°What about these.¡± I peel back the skin, and take a bite. He recoils. ¡°uh uh, vegetale bad, froot too. Elder says so.¡± He nods his head matter of factly. I bend down. ¡°Wanna known secret?¡± He looks at me curiously. ¡°The elder lied, to grow into a big strong goblin you must eat the vegetables, and fruit. If you don¡¯t like the flavour I have ways to hide it so it tastes just like meat.¡± He looks shocked, like his whole life he has been leading a lie. ¡°Reawy?¡± I nod. ¡°Yes reawy- really.¡± Damien comes back with a ring of keys. ¡°Now come with me. We are gonna put you in a cell, you won''t stay there forever just until we can get a place for you to stay.¡± I''m not entirely sure he understands what I''m saying fully, but he nods, and follows after me and to the room. The cell is kinda small, but the perfect size for the goblin. When he is locked in the cell, I pull Damien to the side. ¡°For now, just leave him bowls of dragon eyes, and other cheap plant matter carrots, potatoes and such. We''ll find what he likes if he starts eating all of one thing leave more of those.¡± He shakes his head. ¡°Why go through all the trouble?¡± I let out a sigh. ¡°How much trouble do goblins cause? How many deaths? How much lost livestock? Now if we worked with the goblins, they picked the dragon eyes for us for example. And we provide protection, creature comforts, supplies, and training or education for those that wanted it in exchange? We would never have to worry again. So the trouble that I''m going through is to make the strongest goblin to ever exist, not a goblin chieftain, goblin lord, or even a goblin king. A goblin emperor, a goblin to rule over all other goblins. Essentially a second army that works our lands. Our enemies would fear the small quick goblins that would hamper their armies, and our people would be able to pursue skilled work instead of the task of collecting dragon eyes. A lesson for you, never make an enemy when you can make a friend.¡± He shakes his head not believing my words, but I know. Humans are capable of extreme cruelty the likes of which would make a demon shudder, the opposite is true however. I grin, a goblin to rule all others he needs a suitable name. Something terrifying, but not revolting. Arthur might be good. It already packs some weight. If he has a magical knack I might go with Merlin. I look at the sun creeping down. The sun is almost setting. ¡°OH FUCK.¡± I sprint out of the constabulary. I have shopping to do. I wonder if anyone sells mason jars? Chapter 5- Extreme Gluttony I''d gotten most everything on my list, what I didn¡¯t have was commissioned, and should be ready in a few days. I finally returned to the Dragon''s Lair as the sun was dipping below the horizon. The group eating more of that stew, which was quite good. I get odd looks as I carry the armfuls of gear up the stairs. Most of the time I spent at the Smith''s describing what some of this was. Once he understood what I was asking for it was easy to get. I added a bunch of stilletos, for Rogue to throw, a bastard sword and a shield for Fighter, Cleric I got a spiked mace. I commissioned a poleaxe for myself. One part spear, one part hammer, and one part axe. All three damage types in one weapon with a 15 foot reach, what more could you ask for. Now I was my confident in my ability to hold it, but I decided that my continued survival was as good a time as any to start working out. I would take it up with the constable. I would keep the items as a surprise for the group. I asked for a bucket from Lily who happily obliged. The excitement from the day had churned my stomach. The flashing of the arrows causing me to wince everytime i reflected on it. I vomited into the bucket this time and not all over the floor. I wrote bucket on the list something I''d have to get tomorrow with the Constable. I rinse my mouth with a water skin, and chew on this weird stick. Its It''s meant to clean your teeth. It''s like a pine branch, except the needles are more sinewy. It feels like im rubbing hair inside my mouth which is frankly disgusting. But it leaves a pleasant minty aftertaste. You get two uses out of them once in the evening, and again when you wake up. Bought a few bags of them for a couple of silver. I lay back on the bed letting sleep over take me. I wake up, or am still conscious in my sleep at least. This ground is a black plane stretching infinitely in all directions. The sky a dark gray that is pleasant on the eyes. A creature sits 50 feet from me hunched over. It¡¯s fat swollen body jiggle with movement. It¡¯s greenish yellow, and two pointed ears poke from its head. It¡¯s comically small head turns to look at me. It has no eyes or nose just a largemouth filled with sharp, jagged, and yellowing teeth. Its mouth glistens crimson with blood. It ignores me, and bites into whatever it is eating with a crunch. Come eat¡­ A voice comes out barely audible over the sound of snapping bones. I take a tentative step forward and find that the distance between us has closed in an instant. The mutilated corpse of some animal, a d5eer by the looks of it lays on the ground. Sit¡­ The voice says. The creature slurps an intestine into its mouth, the long organ dribbling blood as it disappears into its maw. I sit down beside the creature. So much food¡­ So much blood¡­ The creature finished off the corpse eating even the fur, then licks the blood off the ground with a long tongue, small holes along its surface drawing the blood in. The creatures body swells in size. A pile of raw squid drops in front of us. The creature hesitates. You first¡­ I pick up one of the squids, and take a small bite. I realize how hungry I am. I shove the rest of the squid into my mouth, and grab another handful. The squids juices burst in my mouth and dribble down my chin. The creature begins to eat too. I ignore it, opting to shove more of the squids into my mouth. I lose myself in the hunger. The squids eventually turn into chickens, the feathers provide some difficulty, but their warm blood washes it all down. I close my eyes to enjoy it. The bones cracking in my mouth. After a long time of chewing, swallowing, and eating I open my eyes. The heart I''d bitten into still in my mouth dribbling its warm savory blood. I stare into the dull lifeless eyes of a young girl. Her blonde hair matted with blood. It¡¯s all meat¡­ The creature says a familiar line. I hear sobbing. Tears stream down the girls face. ¡°Why me, I thought I was your friend?¡± I drop the heart. I gag my stomach turned. ¡°I didn¡¯t know I was young, I didn¡¯t know.¡± She sobs again. ¡°Why did he choose me?¡± The creature pulls off her leg, crunching into it. It¡¯s long tongue digging the marrow from her bones. ¡°I''m sorry.¡± I choke out. Her head lulls to the side. ¡°IT WAS YOU, YOU DID THIS. I¡¯M DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU, YOU KILLED ME.¡± She screams blood pouring from her eyes. ¡°No. N-no.¡± The creature bites through her pelvis slurping up her liver. ¡°YOU KNEW, YOU KNEW WHAT HE WAS DOING, AND YOU DIDN''T STOP HIM.¡± I choke on my vomit. A large bulge in my throat stopping me from losing my stomach. With a pained tearing a skull rolls out of my mouth. My stomach wrenches again. Another skull rolling out. And another. And another. ¡°YOU FAULT. YOUR FAULT.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. They scream over, and over. It¡¯s all meat¡­ The creature repeats. ¡°YOUR FAULT. YOUR FAULT.¡± The skulls scream. The girls eyes turn to look at me, as the creature rips her ribs out of her chest cavity. ¡°YOU WERE HIS, THE WHOLE TIME YOU WERE HIS.¡± Her voice stops just before the creature pulls her lungs from her body. A hand placed itself on my shoulder. ¡°I''m disappointed in you son. I had high hopes for you, high hopes.¡± He clicks his tongue. ¡°It¡¯s your fault you know? You did this to them.¡± He says. I shut my eyes tight, and take a swing at him. ¡°YOU¡¯RE A MONSTER IT WAS YOU!¡± I shout back. I open my eyes. The creature looks at me its red tinged mouth slurping down the last of her blonde hair. A soldier doesn¡¯t look at his food, or wonder where it comes from. He trusts the cook, and eats knowing it''ll get him to the next day¡­ You weren''t a soldier but you trusted, and ate¡­ It reaches up a long thin arm it¡¯s many joints unfolding. It pokes me in the chest, but the hand keeps going piercing my skin and heart. The meat is here now¡­ Eat and be at peace¡­ I grab the creatures arm. ¡°DON¡¯T TOUCH ME, I WON¡¯T.¡± Eat¡­ Eat¡­ I am just so hungry. Eat¡­ I lift the creatures arm to my mouth. The flesh shall become one¡­ Eat¡­ I sink my teeth into its it''s tough arm, my jaw clenched and its arm bone snaps. I shamble forward my hands on the arm. I pull myself towards the creatures body. Eat¡­ Eat¡­ The voice calls to me. I drink the blood from its wounds, and suck the marrow from the bones. I slowly devour the creature which has grown to a monumental size after our feast. Eat¡­ It repeats over, and over again. Its voice growing in strength. I forget the voices of the skulls screaming, and the young bloodied girl. Only my hunger and the creatures voice. The creature bathes in my gluttony, its body swelling twice over for every mouthful of flesh I take. It¡¯s face pulling out into a snout, and crunchy scales crawling over its body. It¡¯s ears pull back into horns, and eyes pop out of its blank face. The greenish yellow colour slowly turns into an emerald green. I nibble on its it''s long finger barely able to wrap my mouth around its gargantuan claw. It let''s put a deep throaty laugh. ¡°You have quite the hunger human. Enough even to threaten me. Perhaps the staff was not such a good idea, I could feel its power when you connected to it. I hardly expected a human to have eaten the varied amount of foods you have.¡± It raises a claw to its face, and rubs its chin. ¡°Well I suppose I have an obligation to help you. And you have a spark of dragon kind in you however faint.¡± He waves a hand, and a little blob of fat forms in his hand. Mucus green scales, and with needle like teeth. It immediately begins to try, and devour the hand its on. I lose my gluttonous mood, and fall backwards. ¡°You had more dragon in you than I thought.¡± He rubs under its chin, the creature sinks its teeth through the scale. ¡°Make sure to take care of the little fellow.¡± Behind the Dragon a number of shadows loom. Not just behind the dragon, but all around us they fight to get in. Kept at bay by some aura. ¡°THIS YOUNGLING IS UNDER MY PROTECTION, YOU HOARDING JEALOUS SCALE LICKERS WILL NOT TOUCH HIM.¡± The dragon shouts deafening me. He drops the fat little ball of scales into my hands, and flares his wings. The dragon opens its mouth, and instead of breathing out a gout of flame or cold, he breathes inward. The shadows scatter, as a vortex of wind forms in front of his maw. An unlucky shadow is hit head on, and pieces of it RIP off, and get sucked into the mouth. The baby dragon in my hands decides my hands look delicious and bites me. Drawing blood, and scraping my bone with his teeth. I sit upright in bed. The light filters through the window. Catching dust particles in the air. I lift my hand up no sign of a wound. I stand up, and feel a little woozy. Why had I even thought my hand was injured. I''m still tired after sleeping must not have been a good sleep. I sit up and sickness immediately over takes me. I loudly dry heave into the bucket besides the bed. ¡°Lord Magus?¡± I hear Lily¡¯s voice call. Soft jingling from the other side of the door, and then the lock clicking. She swings the door open, and sees me perched over the bucket. A something begins to crawl up my throat, closing off my airway, I begin to choke. Lily starts to panic, ¡°S-someone help the Magus!¡± She calls. I hear footsteps, and Cleric looks around the corner. Whatever is in my throat is now in my mouth. I heave again, and a green blob falls into the bucket. Blood runs out of my mouth, and my throat feels like I''ve actually deepthroated sandpaper. The bucket shakes, and tips over. Spilling the sick all over. The blob of green rolls up into a ball, green scales poke through the outside, and then form around it. The little blob slowly collects itself, and transforms into the small scaled blob from my dream. It blinks, and yawns. The little ball, sits in the puddle of vomit. Its tail wags, and puts a clawed hand into its mouth. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know where it came from I would say it¡¯s cute.¡± Cleric says. Lily opens her mouth to speak, closes it, then opens it again. ¡°No this isn¡¯t normal.¡± I say. She nods her head, takes a step back, and then gets sick. I take the old shirt from earth torn and dirty and scoop up the baby dragon. I bundle it up, then hold it out away from me. I hear a small cooing like a giggle. The commotion has drawn more people upstairs. ¡°What''s in the bundle?¡± Fighter asks through a mouthful of bread. ¡°Baby dragon.¡± I reply, the crowd parts as I swiftly walk towards the washroom. ¡°Where did it come from?¡± Asks Wizard. ¡°His stomach.¡± Cleric says, ¡°I just threw up in my mouth a little thinking about it.¡± Fighter drops his hand holding the bread. ¡°I¡¯ve lost my appetite.¡± I open the washroom door, untie the bundle, and slide the welp into the bronze bowl. The dragon gurgles then bites a whole through the bowl. The water drains out, and the dragon giggles with glee. ¡°Excellent,¡± I let out a sigh. Just one more fucking problem to deal with. The dragon bites another whole in the bowl, chews the bronze then swallows. Chapter 6- Fear The dragon had chewed its way through the bronze bowl, a thick piece of cloth, a pair of iron tongs, a door, a chair leg, a table, Clerics hand, Rogues gold pouch, one of the bags of ball bearings, and is now sat on Lily¡¯s lap. Lily was smart enough to collect a large bowl of rocks from outside, which the little one is now happily crunching on. ¡°So you had a dream, which you don¡¯t remember, but you get the feeling this is some sort of seal?¡± Wizard asks. She reaches a hand over towards the little dragon. The dragon hisses, and gnashes its needle like teeth at her. Lily pats it¡¯s head, and rubs under its chin. It basks in the attention purring like a cat. It lifts up another piece of gravel, and crunches it. The teeth slicing through the rock like a hot knife through butter. Marnie, the innkeep, slides a couple mugs of ale around the table, a sour look on her face. ¡°I should flay the little thing, and cook ¡®im in a stew.¡± She says. The dragon looks up at her, and bares his teeth in a smile. ¡°Little shit, can¡¯t tell if he can understand us, or doesn''t know what he is doing.¡± She sighs before walking off. ¡°I mean at least the name is now true to the inn. I can see it now, ¡®Come to the Dragons lair, the only tavern in all the kingdoms to have served an actual dragon.¡¯ You¡¯ll be a celebrity.¡± I call to her. ¡°Yeah Vommitor, the dragon whose origin story is sure to make you sick.¡± She replies a smile on her face. I make a serious face. ¡°Lily can I trust George in your care.¡± She makes a face. ¡°George? That¡¯s what you are going with?¡± She asks upset with my excellent naming sense. ¡°Yes a famous Dragon slayer from my home was called George.¡± She covers Georges ears. ¡°You are going to scar him. You are naming him off someone who killed dragons.¡± She whispers harshly at me. George looks between us oblivious. ¡°What should I name him? Eragon? Rhaegal? Puff?¡± I reply whispering back. ¡°Llewellyn.¡± Lily replies. ¡°Fine George Llewellyn.¡± I say back to her. ¡°Llewellyn.¡± ¡°Llewellyn George.¡± ¡°Lle-well-yn.¡± I throw my hands up. ¡°Okay, okay Llewellyn wins.¡± She uncovers Llewellyn ears, and scratches under his chin. She lifts up another rock for him to eat. ¡°Lily can I trust Llewellyn, in your care.¡± She nods. I take a handful of gold coins out of my pouch, and place them on the table. ¡°For your trouble, and Marnies.¡± Llewellyn reaches up to grab the shiny coins. ¡°I¡¯ll try, and get some more ball bearings for Llewellyn to snack on.¡± I pat Llewellyn on the head. Rogue had disappeared on the way to the constable, probably to steal money from small children. Fighter and wizard meandered along browsing shops, and Cleric cursed Llewellyn to the ends of the earth, while wrapping, and rewrapping the wound on her hand. I bought a nice pair of workman''s clothes yesterday. They were comfortable, and functional. The tailor was surprised, and more than likely a little scared when I kept shooting down the cloth recommendations. Going for something probably more expensive, but I¡¯ll like better than some fancy nobles cloth. The shirt was a dark green tinged with brown, it had taken a few tries to get the color right, but it was perfect for hiding in a forest. The pants were dark brown like a loamy dirt. The tailor I went to had a special wand he could use to change the colour of fabrics. They were apparently very popular in the capital, and nobles would go through multiple charges during a single social event. The robe Waylax had given me resisted the wand remaining the same pristine white it had been. The townsfolk look at me with a strange sort of reverence, a mix between awe, respect, and fear. Little did they know all of them could probably kick the crap out of me with little resistance. A little girl stumbles into me as we are walking through town, she bumps into my leg, and then falls on her tooshand begins crying. Her mother rushes over. ¡°Lord Magus I¡¯m terribly sorry my daughter bumped into you.¡± She lifts the child up into her arms. I smile. ¡°Even I was a child at some point.¡± The girl has a scraped knee, and silent tears fall down her face. ¡°Do you mind?¡± I ask, the mother. She nods a deer in the headlights look. I gesture towards cleric who is already over the child.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Cleric do this, cleric do that, no don''t use magic to heal your hand. Heal the little girl cleric. I''ll beat you half to death then heal you, and beat you again.¡± She mumbles to herself. A faint light shines over the skinned knee, and the wound vanishes. I smile at the little girl. ¡°Now be a good girl, and make sure to hold your mother''s hand.¡± The little girl nods, and hugs closer to her mom. ¡°You are surprisingly gentle.¡± Wizard says. ¡°You can judge a society on how well it treats its children." I reply. ¡°Well you can judge a society based on a lot of things, but children are most important. Either a loyal workforce, or a resentful mob. And both those dance heavily along a thin line.¡± I pause for a moment, stopping beside an old woman selling dragon snaps. I take a few from her hand, placing a gold coin in exchange. She looks at me in shock which I return with a smile. ¡°This is the line I will attempt to traverse with the goblin. A mixture of discipline and respect, and kindness, gratefulness. Knowing full well the hand that feeds you has a brother with a knife. A Kobold likely would have been better initially, but the goblins respect of power will likely work better in the long run.¡± I¡¯ve seemed to have peaked Wizards interest, she writes as we walk. It''s a scene back from the streets of earth. Face down in a book, but dodging any and all obstacles as they appear. She catches my gaze. ¡°My mentor studied many of the ¡®lower races¡¯, she tried uplifting on a few occasions raising goblins in human households, etc. None of them worked.¡± She pauses to think for a moment. Then begins to rapidly flip through her book. Stopping at a page that looks like it was bound in after the book was made. ¡°He was in the G¡¯hrazza swamp last time I received a message from him. Studying a tribe of black kobolds.¡± I wince a little. Kobolds were rough. Enough dragon blood to make them prouder than a lion, but not enough to fight an opponent on even ground. Which made them top tier in my book, but rough to fight. Black Kobolds didn¡¯t have the striking power of a red, or the trap sense of a blue. They were stealthy as all hell though, and deep bogs were perfect locations to lay traps and ambushes. ¡°Black kobolds? Not green, they are fairly amicable.¡± Wizard shrugs, ¡°I studied plants, main reason I sought him out as a mentor is he travelled all over, which allowed me to collect samples.¡± I clap her on the back, causing her to stumble. ¡°Congratulations are in order then.¡± She gives me a strange look. ¡°You are no longer Wizard, you are Druid.¡± She looks like she is going to swing at me. She raises her arm up, and then sticks her foot out, and trips me. I pick myself up off the floor. ¡°Excellent job Wizard drawing attention with a fist. An excellent way to distract an opponent, it could even be used with spells. Add a somatic component, to a spell that doesn''t have one just to slip up your foes. If they think you are going to make noise the entire time you cast a spell, a surprise fireball is an excellent reward.¡± Wizard seems to consider what I¡¯ve said. I decide to add more. ¡°If you can reach a point where you need do nothing, but will magic to take shape before you. Why not use false motions, and words. The scorching ray you are about to cast is a lightning bolt, and your invisibility spell is teleport. It will confuse your opponent, and give you an edge.¡± We arrive at the constabulary, and greet Damien outside. ¡°The little snot tried to escape last night, so we had to put chains on him.¡± I let out a sigh. ¡°Do what you have to do. I¡¯ll break it out of him soon enough.¡± He leads us inside. ¡°Before you ask no he hasn¡¯t eaten any of the vegetables or fruits.¡± Damien pulls a handful of pieces of paper off his desk. He flips through them before handing me a stack. ¡°These are receipts for your clothing which will be ready in four days, a set of arms and armor which will be ready in 12 days, a set of 30 sigils and 5 seals which will arrive in one months time and a standing order for 100 more sigils and 10 more seals which can be ordered at any time, 10 trained warhorses, 7 letters from noble houses offering congratulations, 4 of them are marriage proposals, 2 are adoption proposals, and the last is a 4 page long war story, 3 denouncements from the other noble houses one of which also included a marriage proposal, the royal family has also sent notice that a representative will be sent.¡± The information kind of overloads me. He thrusts the papers into my hand. ¡°Thank you Damien, you¡¯ve been a big help to this outsider.¡± He smiles, ¡°Once upon a time I was a manservant, not a constable at the edge of civilization.¡± He gets a thousand yard stare. ¡°That¡¯s a story for another time. I suppose you want to see the goblin?¡± I nod. The goblin is manacled, and the manacles chained to the wall. An uneaten bowl of raw fruit, and veggies sits on the floor. He cowers in the corner of his cell. Curled up into a ball. ¡°Leave us for a moment.¡± I say quietly. Damien, gives me an odd look, and leaves. Wizard was the only one who followed me of the party who was interested. She Shrugs and ducks out of the room. ¡°What makes a strong goblin?¡± I ask him. ¡°Strength? Nope. Intelligence? Not likely. Cunning? The average goblin is as cunning as a hammer is sharp. Determination? A big plus. Ruthlessness? Definitely. Little one, you mistake my intentions, I am not here to dress you like a human, and walk you around like some pet. I aim to make you a goblin among goblins. Ruthless, and determined, with enough strength, intelligence, and cunning to rise to the top.¡± He uncurls from his ball to listen to me. ¡°Little one you are a fledgling. A baby bird, who doesn¡¯t know how to fly. With the path to become a phoenix before him. You will take the name of someone who strikes fear in the hearts of all. The ancestors of my ancestors, Arthur.¡± A thunderclap echoes outside, and rain begins to pour. ¡°You see little one, the heavens themselves tremble at such a name.¡± The goblin looks at me with awe in his eyes. ¡°Now you must learn the first and most important lesson, Fear.¡± I open the cell door. I kick the goblin in the chest. Sending him sprawling across the room. ¡°Fear,¡± I stomp on one of his hands. ¡°Is a reflex all creatures have.¡± The goblin cowers away, but I continue my assault. ¡°It is the superpower for weak things.¡± The goblin ducks out of the way of my first kick, but on the return I hit him in the side of the head. ¡°Your reactions become faster, you become stronger, chemicals rush through your bloodstream.¡± He stands up, but I kick his ankle causing him to topple over. ¡°Remember fear, remember this feeling. Learn to suppress your fear, to overcome and control it, but never forget it. Never forget fear.¡± The goblin uses his hands to try, and crawl away from me. Leaving a trail of blood behind him. I crouch beside him. Tilting his large lumpy head towards me. ¡°Fear is a powerful tool, but like any tool it only has so many uses. You must instill fear with a single overwhelming show of force. And every action you do from then on is something to be feared.¡± I slam his head onto the ground. With a crack his nose is broken. ¡°In direct combat you must use terror, and panic not fear. Fear will make them fight harder if just slightly. Terror will cause their blades to weaken, and panic will cause them to flee.¡± With his last bits of strength the goblin struggles to escape. ¡°This is terror, this is panic. You don''t even think to lift a finger against me. I¡¯m not a soft human like the others. I know pain, I know suffering. Most of all I know fear. Next time you try to escape I will find another goblin to teach, and you will be an example.¡± Blood drips from the goblins mouth, and nose. He whimpers, and lays motionless. I stand up my knees cracking from the motion. ¡°Oof, what doesn''t kill you makes you stronger. Your next lesson will be pain, you will learn it most intimately, how to inflict, and how to take it. This will be an ongoing lesson however.¡± I walk to the cell door. I look back at his form, hate filled eyes staring up at me. ¡°When I am finished teaching you, when you are stronger. Come find me, show me again what it is to know fear.¡± Chapter 7- Patching things up Cleric gasps when she walks into the cell. ¡°What did you do?¡± Wizard asks looking at the crumpled heap. ¡°Goblins aren¡¯t civilized not now anyway. Maybe one day years in the future. For now however to teach a goblin, you must use goblin methods.¡± The soft glow of holy energy radiates around the goblins body repairing damage. ¡°Just mostly heal him. Leave some bruises, as a reminder.¡± Cleric looks at me with disgust in her eyes. ¡°Spare me, I can do very little with your respect.¡± I reply. ¡°As long as you listen to me I can make you stronger. That¡¯s what matters, right? Getting powerful enough to heal someone, or are you under a geas/quest?¡± She goes white at the mention. ¡°Ding ding ding. The pieces are all starting to fit together.¡± She heals up the goblin, and storms out of the room. ¡°I should go make sure she doesn¡¯t put a hole through a stone wall. Again. Wizard says with a sigh. ¡°Wait she¡¯s done that?¡± I ask Wizard. Wizard just keeps walking. ¡°She¡¯s done that?! Why does nobody tell me these things.¡± I pick up the bowl of food, and roll a dragon eye to the goblin. ¡°Eat.¡± I command him. The goblin just flicks it away. Protesting me. ¡°Fine.¡± I walk out of the room bowl in hand. I place the bowl on the table. ¡°How do you cook around here?¡± I ask Damien. Obviously they used fire on the road, but for the amount of people here there was so few lit fires for the food served at any time it was confusing. He lifts a small tablet out of his desk. It looks like one of those electric stove tops. ¡°Fire magic heats the central coil, and you put pots, or pans on top of it to cook it. Little knob here controls the heat. They are kind of expensive, but one of these will last your family 4-5 generations. So they are commonly a wedding present for second, third, fourth, etc. children.It¡¯s called a hot top.¡± I rub my stubble that is coming through on my face. I haven''t tried growing a beard since high school. Now might not be a bad time. He places the device on the table in front of him. ¡°Gonna cook something?¡± I nod. ¡°Yeah an all veggie dish.¡± I lift it up, and place it on the center table. I look around the room for a pan. ¡°The door with the window behind you, door directly on the left past that.¡± Damien says. ¡°Thanks.¡± I walk up to the window door, and open it, then open the door just past it to the left. A short set of stairs leads into a spacious, but mostly empty larder. A larger set of stairs, and a ramp adjacent to it, lead to a set of doors on the opposite side of the room. I look through the ingredients a clove of garlic, salt, some bell peppers, a few tomatoes, some whole peppercorn. I place it all on top of a large pan, that was hanging on the wall. I also grab two knives on the way out. I spot a mortar and pestle out of the corner of my eye, behind a bag of potatoes, and grab it. Easier than smashing the peppercorn. I throw the pan on the hot top, and begin slicing up the veggies, dice the peppers, throw those onto the pan, then the tomato, no oil so the veggie juices will have to do. A punch of salt, then mince the garlic, some more salt. I pull a carrot out of the goblins bowl, dice that up. The garlic smell starts to waft around the room, and the veggies sizzle in the pan. I cut up one of the dragon eyes, dicing it very tiny, and throw it in. Then I throw in a bit more salt, and grind the peppercorns up. Before tossing that in. I let it simmer on low for a bit, tossing the veggies occasionally. And boom it¡¯s done. Nothing fancy, but smells great. Damien has pulled a handful of bowls out of his desk, and I scoop some into each of the bowls. I notice the smell has attracted the other guardsmen, who hover around the table like dogs around a bone. I grab a small bowl for myself, and leave them to the rest. I walk into the goblins cell who is scrunched up in a corner clutching his abdomen. I place the bowl down on the floor, If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Careful it¡¯s hot.¡± The goblin looks up at me. Then at the bowl. I leave the room, and head back into the main room, where the guards savor the hot food, on the rainy day. I hear a clattering noise, a chain being pulled, a hiss of pain, and then scarfing noises. Hook, line, and sinker. Now that the goblin is going to get proper nutrition, he shouldn¡¯t be so skinny, and malnourished. With most of my business for today finished I decided to walk around outside. I didn¡¯t have my umbrella, and I wasn¡¯t going to turn the frying pan into a drying pan. It would be nice to enjoy the rain. A commonality between here, and home. I decided to walk to the blacksmith, and buy a load more ball bearings. I whistled Africa by Toto as I walked. Kinda wishing I had my phone so I could sing along to the lyrics. Rhythmic pounding of rain on bronze led me to the smith. A slanted smoke hood, lets the rain pour into barrels that could be used for quenching, and not into the forge. A dwarf with a beard that looked like a block of iron sat leaned against his anvil a pipe in his mouth, and a mug of ale to his side. I step under the overhang, and into the light of his shop. He tilts his head up. ¡°What can I do ya fer?¡± He asks with a thick accent. His beard doesn''t move at all, but the noise seems to come from his general direction. ¡°Need about 400 ball bearings, and a couple of thick iron rods, make them as hard as you can.¡± I tell him. He takes a long drag on his pipe, and blows the smoke out of his nose. The thick cloud floats up, and out of his shop. ¡°I ¡®member you. One o¡¯ dem dragon slayers. Ordered some fancy spear, and other stuff from my apprentice. That dopey armored feller, bought all the ball bearings, and the caltrops. Never could bring myself to melt ¡®em down so I¡¯m glad someone bought ¡®em. 400 more though could take a couple o¡¯ days. Specially if the rain keeps up.¡± He scratches his beard. ¡° ¡®bout 4 gold for the bearings, and not sure exactly what you want for the sticks, but I¡¯ll do my best. Give you a discount so 9 gold.¡± I pull 9 gold out of what seems like an infinite money pouch. He puts a hand up. ¡°I¡¯ll take 5 now, and 4 at the end, I¡¯m the honest sort, and it¡¯s a good business practice.¡± I nod. ¡°Alright then.¡± I put 5 gold on the anvil, and stick my hand out for a handshake. He grabs my hand with a vice like grip. I squeeze back, but it doesn¡¯t seem to do anything. His beard raises in the corners so I assume he is smiling. ¡°Strong grip, most humans go limper than a dead fish when I shake their hands. Can tell alot about a man when you shake their hands, like a magic power of mine.¡± He pauses for a moment, his eyes glazing over. ¡°You got a grip like the ocean, below the surface is dark, and deep. Scarier the further down you go, but full of unexplored wonder, and life. Threatening to pull you down at a moments notice.¡± He pulls his hand back, his eyes returning to their former shine. ¡°Listen to an old Dwarf like me prattle on, you better head off ¡®fore the weather gets any worse. My joints always creak when a bad one is coming. An¡¯ I feel like an old wooden floor right now.¡± I give him a smile. I think back to my umbrella, no one else has one. ¡°How would you feel about some experimentation?¡± I ask. He scratches his beard again. ¡°Dunno, if it involves metal work. I¡¯m all for it though.¡± I nod, ¡°Might bring something by your shop if the weather isn¡¯t to bad.¡± I walk back out into the rain. ¡°Take care now Lord Dragon slayer.¡± He calls, I wave back at him. The forges light disappearing into the heavy rain. I appreciate the lack of wind, always hated rainy storms. The cool rain is like a refreshing shower. I wander a little, noone is out right now because of the torrential rain. The plants have opened up, and breathe that sweet earthy smell. The ground is probably ripe with worms shriveled in puddles. I eventually find myself outside an abandoned tavern. It could have been an inn, or maybe an orphanage. Large stables to the side of the main building, which seems to be two building actually fused together. Although the design could also be weird. I make a mental note of it, and walk back to the Dragon''s lair. Small streams of water begin to run in the streets, might have to watch out for flash floods. I walk through the door, of the tavern. The party has recollected themselves. Lily is asleep in a chair by the fireplace, Llewellyn curled up in her lap gnawing on it¡¯s own paw. ¡°Your dragon has the combined energy of 30 young uns, won¡¯t let noone but Lily touch ¡®im either.¡± Marnie says. I shrug, ¡°Sorry, I know you didn¡¯t sign up for this.¡± She chuckles waving a hand dismissively at me. ¡°Nonsense, best customer I had in years. Only reason we are still open is how dirt cheap the taxes are.¡± She looks at Lily. ¡°Lily could use something to take her mind off the present. Been through some bad times.¡± I nod. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t be living if everything was happy.¡± I reply. ¡°Aye, lad. You need some dark to help balance out the light.¡± That¡¯s Marnie''s last word, she disappears back into the kitchen. I head up stairs, and grab my backpack. I search through it pulling out my mini first aid kit. I grab a pack of disinfectant, and a large adhesive bandage, one of those waterproof cloth ones, and an alcohol swab. I head back down stairs, and park a seat next to cleric. She gives me an ugly look. ¡°Hand out,¡± I say. She hesitantly sticks her hand out. The cloth wrap slightly bloodied. I unwrap it, and put it on the table. The wound is a little puffy, but still okay. Scabs are forming which is good. I peel open the alcohol tab. ¡°This is gonna sting.¡± She nods in response. I wipe down the bite mark, she hisses, but doesn¡¯t pull away. ¡°I know I can be a bit of a dick. Just kinda out of my element right now¡­ Sorry for prying to much.¡± I spread a bit of the disinfectant cream on her wound, and smooth out the clumps. I peel off the bandage wax paper, and place the bandage over the wound. I smooth out the edges. ¡°All done. Give it a few days, and don¡¯t play with the bandage. If it starts to hurt let me know and we can check underneath if it¡¯s infected.¡± I get up and throw the used wrappers into the fireplace. ¡°Thanks.¡± Cleric says from behind me. I wave my hand. ¡°Don¡¯t mention it.¡± I sit down at one of the tables, leaning back in the chair. It¡¯s been what three, no four days, since I got here. Handling the dragon as soon as possible would be for the best. I would do that tomorrow. I had those horses now, even if I had no idea how to ride them. Hopefully the fighter would know at least. I had ridden a pony at a fair when I was younger, but that was the extent of my equestrian escapades. ¡°We are heading back to the dragon cave tomorrow.¡± I say aloud. ¡°Why?¡± Fighter asks. ¡°Z" I reply. ¡°Anyway have a good night.¡± I head upstairs exhausted once again. I don¡¯t wind up needing the bucket during the night. I do however wake up in the mornings wee hours. A cold sweat covers my body, and a strong sense of dread, like 30 missed calls from mom. The rain is still pouring outside, a flash of lightning illuminating the clouds. The form of a long serpent snaking its way towards the mountain. I must be imagining things however. Chapter 8- A hard wok I couldn¡¯t fall back asleep so I walk down to the main room. Lily is playing with Llewellyn. She has a bent fork tied to a string, and holds it just out of reach. She lowers it slightly. Llewellyn springs up to snap his jaws at it, Lily moves it up slightly, and it moves out of reach. The little dragon looks up at the fork like an arch nemesis. He hisses, and swipes at the air with his front claws. When he sees me come. Down the stairs, he scampers up to me, and digging his claws into my clothing climbs up my body before I know it he has rested himself on my shoulder his short little tail wagging in joy. I scratch the top of his head. ¡°I¡¯m glad it likes someone else.¡± Lily says. She takes a seat placing the makeshift toy on the table. ¡°Don¡¯t know if I could handle watching it all the time. You are up early, doing anything?¡± I nod. ¡°Heading to the dragon''s cave.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°In this weather? The roads will be flooded, and horses won''t do you much good when there is no trail. Especially with the mud that accumulates.¡± I shrug, shifting Llewellyn who growls a little. ¡°I have a feeling about it. I just have to.¡± Lily nods. She looks upset, but doesn''t say anything. I''ve brought my backpack, and my new gear down with me. I transfer the contents of my old bag into a new water resistant one. I¡¯ll give my paper to the wizard to put in the water proof scroll case. First aid kit I hang from my new bag, using a bobby pin. I tug on it to make sure it¡¯s secure. The water resistant bag has some hooks, which I put my umbrella on. The other hooks I realize are for pans, and pots which I don¡¯t have. I let out a sigh, I¡¯ll ask Marnie if she has any extra. I hook up my bedroll, and dump my rations and other supplies in. While I look through my own bag, I find my solar charger, and a wire. I thought had left these at my friends so this is a big score. It was rainy out, but I wasn¡¯t so worried about never using my phone again. I turn my phone on, and scroll to spotify. Llewellyn stares at the bright screen like a little kid. Lily only notices when I put the music on. Ever since I thought about it yesterday, I¡¯ve had Africa stuck in my head. ¡°Are you doing that?¡± I nod. ¡°This is a common device from my home, lets you talk to people on the other side of the world, listen to music, and look at the sum of knowledge with a few taps.¡± She looks at me dumbfounded. ¡°What did you use it for?¡± I smile. ¡°To look at pictures of cats.¡± After Africa finished I pull up some more music. Paint it black, completely different tone. Lily looks a little shaken. ¡°Music can change a lot in over 100 years.¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. I throw Bohemian Rhapsody on after Paint it black. The Thunderbolt and lightning part causes Llewellyn to jump and run to Lily. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to feel about that music.¡± Lily says to me after the song finishes. I think for a moment, then put on Misty Mountains. ¡°This is a Dwarvish song from my home.¡± I tell her. ¡°Don¡¯t be playin¡¯ none o¡¯ that round other places.¡± Marnie says. ¡°The bard¡¯s would skin ya alive.¡± She seemed to appear out of thin air. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, just got excited for a moment. I have these.¡± I hold up my earbuds. I plug them into my phone, and the music disappears. I pass one to Lily. ¡°Put it in your ear.¡± She does as I say. An amazed expression on her face. ¡°The music is in the pod. Your home sure is amazing.¡± Marnie rubs her chin. ¡°That song was very Dwarvish, although it wasn¡¯t in dwarven. Did you grow up in a hidden city? Would explain your very dwarven esque attitude. Strong grip too, so says Gred.¡± Gred? ¡°The smith?¡± I ask. ¡°Aye,¡± She nods. ¡°The very same.¡± ¡°I have a question.¡± Lily says. ¡°What is Africa?¡± I pause for a moment then start laughing. Just the absurdity of it. Being in another world that has magic, with my cellphone, listening to music, and being asked what Africa is. I calm myself down. ¡°Africa is a continent, a huge land mass with many different countries on it.¡± I finish packing the rest of my gear away. ¡°Hey Marnie, you have an extra pot, or pan? I can pay you for it. Don¡¯t want to skewer my meat with a stick to have to cook it.¡± ¡°I think I have something that might do. You heading to the dragons cave?¡± She calls back. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Bring me back something good.¡± She walks out with a weird looking wok. It''s very shallow, and wide like chest size. ¡°Family heirloom, ain¡¯t done nothing since I got it.¡± This thing looks like it¡¯ll weight 30 pounds. She places it on the table with a solid thud. I don¡¯t know how strong Marnie thinks I am, but not strong enough to lift that. I get into a lifting stance, and nearly fall over backwards. The wok is like 5 pounds. ¡°Holy shit. It¡¯s light.¡± She looks at me like I am an idiot. ¡°It¡¯s mithral you numpty. When I opened my Inn my father gave it to me as a present, was our families prized shield. He ¡®ad it converted into this pan. The fucking trog.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°At least you, and your pack should be safe from attacks if you attach it to your backside.¡± ¡°Wow thanks, must be worth a fortune. Let me give you some money for it, wouldn''t feel right otherwise.¡± She waves her hand. ¡°Just get me something extra special from the Dragon''s cave.¡± I had no idea why the fuck Marnie was giving me a mithral wok, but an adventurer certainly doesn''t turn down free loot. ¡°I¡¯ll owe you a favor still.¡± I reply, Marnie was nice and this gift was too nice. ¡°Thank you for the wok.¡± ¡°The fuck is a wok?¡± I lift the wok, ¡°This. This is a wok, it¡¯s good for stir fry. Very versatile.¡± She raises an eyebrow. ¡°Stir fry?¡± I smile. ¡°I¡¯ll cook it up for you when I get back.¡± The party starts to come down now. ¡°Grabs some food you chuckle heads we gotta get a move on.¡± Lily plates out some boiled veggies, and a crusty buttered bread. A mug of milk for me, the others some light ale. I ate my fill, the trek would be hard with the rain. We walked to the edge of town, the rain obscuring our vision. In the distance, the mountains outline looms faintly. ¡°Alright, lets go.¡± Chapter 9- Offering ¡°Why do you sing along to¡­ what''s it called¡­ the electric guitar.¡± ¡°And drums.¡± Fighter chimes in. I look at Cleric who asked the initial question. ¡°It¡¯s just how things are done. Trust me if we find something you like, you¡¯ll sing instrument parts too.¡± I reply, the answer obvious. I flip my phone from ¡®Hooked on a feeling¡¯ to ¡®Heathens¡¯ maybe a strange juxtaposition, sue me. I twirled my umbrella, and danced down the road. Side stepping to the beat. I had one of my headphones in, the other I had clipped to a lower part of the wire. ¡°Wait until we get my computer out.¡± Then frowned. I didn¡¯t have an outlet, and I doubted a shocking grasp constituted a stable electrical connection. I knew generators had something to do with magnets. I had taken one of those shakeable flashlights apart once, I¡¯d given myself a number of shocks and a bloody nose. The inside had two magnets, the motion of them maybe? I made a mental note to do some experimentation with that. It was rainy, muddy, my new boots were giving me blisters, and overall awful. We made ? the progress we would have otherwise, when it became too dark to see. We strung up a piece of canvas to place our squat tents under. Really wish I had a hanging tent right now, or a hammock. We find a small incline to camp on. Flat enough so we don¡¯t slide in our sleep, but steep enough for the water to no pool beneath us. The canvas blocks most of the rain. We split the watch into 5 parts. Shorter than normal, so we each get more rest. ¡°Rogue come here. Anyone else that wants to learn simple traps too.¡± Cleric, and Fighter walk over. Wizard practices spells, casting prestidigitation to dry off her gear. ¡°First rule is to always remember where your traps are. Always.¡± I put a lot of emphasis on that. I unwind the thin wire. It will be hard to make out in the rain, a perfect setup. ¡°Second make sure your trap matches the environment. Trip wires are very good at that.¡± I string the line between two trees at the edge of camp. I ram a pitton into the trunk of one if the trees, then wind the wire up the tree. I ram another pitton in and then loop it around the back of the tree and draping it over a final pitton. I tie a few bells around the end of the line, and let them hang. I put my foot over the trap, and the bells jingle. I put more weight all the way to the ground, and the wire pulls, but doesn¡¯t break. ¡°Traps should reset themselves,¡± I lift my foot up and the wire pulls taut again, and the bells jingle falling once more. ¡°Set more traps like these up around the camp. Make sure the bells are at least mostly hidden.¡± I instruct, I hand each of them a small spool of wire, and a handful of bells. ¡°Make sure to leave enough slack so that they don¡¯t break when you step on it. Rogue set up a few lower to the ground with the intent to trip not alarm.¡± He nods, and they start setting up the traps. The jingling of bells just audible over the rain. I play ¡®Welcome to the Black Parade¡¯ without my headphones on. Letting the music wash over everyone. Wizard is thoroughly disturbed by the sound. ¡°How is that music? It just sounds like noise.¡± I chuckle. ¡°I could probably pick out each instrument in the song. You get an ear for these things after a while. It helps knowing what each instrument is though probably.¡± I lounge on my bedroll, while not a nice bed from home,it¡¯s better than the ground. When the song finishes I turn it off. ¡°You aren¡¯t gonna play anymore?¡± Asks Rogue. I look at him. ¡°Of course you would be the one to like MCR. I¡¯ll play some more tomorrow, maybe some ¡®Panic! At the disco.¡¯ The noise is distracting for watches, and I can never fall asleep with music on.¡± I turn over, and close my eyes. ¡°Fucking hot topic rogue.¡± I mumble to myself. Quickly drifting to sleep. Cleric shakes me awake. ¡°Your turn for watch.¡± She says. I wipe my eyes, and stretch. My back making a satisfying crack. I twist my neck, and crack it too. Cleric gives me a look of revulsion. I don my robe, and heft my staff over my shoulder. I¡¯d kept the thing a few feet away from me when I slept, since the dream. I sit on a log that we rolled under the canvas, and dried with prestidigitation. I take this time to think about myself. What sort of build do I want to go with. As much as I disliked playing faces, I might be forced into a charisma build. Though I could circumvent that with enough power. Hopefully the dragon would be able to help with that. I was hoping to learn some magic, and potentially be a wizard, or necromancer. But I caught a glimpse of Wizards spell book at one point, and it had my head spinning. Spells seemed to be similar to a complicated mathematical equation, that were supplemented by words, actions, and components. For example the light cantrip could be seen as 1+2+3=6. 1 is the verbal spell, 2 is the material component, and 3 is mana, which all come together to make 6, the spell. However the written version of it was equivalent to, y(2x^4 +y)dy/dx =(1-4xy^2)x^2. And they only get more complex from there. Hopefully the dragon, part of me meant I had a draconic bloodline. So I could be sorcerer and not deal with those fucking equations from hell. If that didn¡¯t pan out I¡¯d move onto bard , and then warlock. I might be a cleric, maybe if I need to. But didn¡¯t find it likely. The tingling of a copper disk hitting a metal plate alerts me. I had final watch, so I kick everyone awake. And start getting the camp packed up. ¡°My wires missing!" Fighter calls. I head over to him. ¡°I tied it here and here, then looped it up around this branch and dangled the bells like you showed us.¡± I shrug, ¡°If you forgot where you put it it¡¯s okay. Visibility is low, and we were tired yesterday. No one is infallible.¡± I reply. I expected someone to lose at least one. He shakes his head. ¡°No I remember it was right here. I haven¡¯t lost it it¡¯s straight up missing. Like someone took it.¡± He¡¯s getting a little upset now. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. It¡¯s just some wire, and bells. Even if something took it, we can¡¯t exactly track them in this rain.¡± He looks unbelieving at the spot. ¡°I didn¡¯t lose it, it was right here.¡± He mumbles. ¡°Come on,¡± I grab his shoulder. ¡°Let''s grab some breakfast.¡± I walk over towards the main area, it¡¯s damp all around. Wizard uses prestidigitation to dry all of our gear off. Fighter eventually wanders over out of the rain, muttering to himself. Rogue shows me how to roll up the bedroll, and blanket together so that it rolls out quickly, and neatly. My phone is on 30% but if I can ration it out with music I should be good. Stolen story; please report. The rain is as heavy as ever, though it isn¡¯t thundering out, the sky is dark and turbulent. The only reason we know it¡¯s morning is the alarm candle we have. Enchanted wick made 1000 of feet at a time, never go out unless completely submerged. Small copper discs are embedded halfway into the side fall out at specific intervals. Based on the type of wick, and the wax. Cleric, and Wizard each cast light. Wizard has a dull ioun stone that levitates around her head she casts it on. Cleric casts it on a small medallion on fighters breastplate. We eat a brief meal of dried meats, and fruit soaked in some warm gravy. We have Wizard to thank for that, prestidigitation is a wonderful spell. I thought I would be more shocked by magic if I saw it, but I guess role playing games, and people like David Blaine have tempered my expectations. Plus all 5 seasons of Merlin. We finish our meal, and fold up the canvas sheet we have hanging over our campsite. Wizard gives it a once over, and then slides it into Rogus pack. I open my umbrella, thankful that once again the wind isn¡¯t blowing. Cleric gives me a dirty look, as her hair immediately is soaked by the heavy rain. I put an earbud in, and play ¡®Brandy (You¡¯re A Fine Girl)¡¯. I¡¯d watched Guardians of the Galaxy 2 a week or so ago, and the song was instantly on my download list. The ground wasn¡¯t as muddy going forward, the ground was fairly rocky, as we got closer to the mountain. That isn¡¯t to say that the plant¡¯s didn¡¯t grow out of the hard ground. Trees, bushes and hard grasses grew like it was no obstacle. Bamboo could grow nicely, I liked to eat bamboo shoots in soup. ¡°Wizard you know plants right?¡± Her head focuses to me, her eyes narrowed. ¡°Yes, I do.¡± ¡°So you know Bamboo?¡± She nods her head. ¡°Yeah actually. The Isekai nations in the west cultivate the plant to use as a building material and food source.¡± I pause, ¡°Did you say Isekai?¡± ¡°Yeah is that a problem? That¡¯s the name of the nation, do you know them?¡± I shake my head. ¡°Never mind, just a thing from where I am from. Wouldn¡¯t expect anyone to know.¡± ¡°Uh huh.¡± Wizard says clicking her tongue afterwards. We walk for a little while, a couple hours at least as the sky has brightened although barely. Fighter rouses me out of the walking trance I¡¯d fallen into. ¡°So Jon how do you remember all the lyrics to all these songs, you¡¯ve been singing along for hours to these songs. No pauses, no breaks, even if it isn¡¯t loud you say the words.¡± I take my earbud out for a moment. ¡°How do you remember how to speak? Or how to eat, or walk, or breathe? When you do something enough times it becomes second nature. I¡¯ve probably listened to these songs hundreds of times. I know them unconsciously.¡± I think for a moment. ¡°That is a slow part of your training. Something that will take time, and effort. ¡®Fear the man who practiced 1 strike 1000 times¡¯, or something Bruce Lee. Repetition is the key to mastery, habits are important. And you will have many of them, all beneficial.¡± I put my earbud back in, and continue to listen to ¡®99 Luftballons¡¯. Fighter tilts his head, and considers this. Smoke seems to pour out of his ear as the two rusty gears in his head grind together. We make better time today, and the mountain looms in front of us. If it weren''t for the rain I would want us to walk the rest of the way. We find two trees to string the canvas between. ¡°Let''s set up some traps." I say, and hand out some more bells and wire. It takes a little while to setup the traps, but we all eventually return to the canvas to eat some food. The rain pounds down around us. The sky darkens, but we have light. I stretch out, and settle down. ¡°We need some cots, or hammocks.¡± I say aloud. ¡°Wizard write it down somewhere.¡± I close my eyes, basking in the warm air, and the cool mist. I drift off to sleep eventually, the soft chatter of the party in the background. ¡°hey, hey jon.¡± Wizard whispers. She shakes me awake, she had the third watch. ¡°What. What?¡± She presses her hand over my mouth. Rogue turns over in his sleep. ¡°shhhh listen.¡± I keep my ears peeled. ¡°what I don¡¯t he-" I look out of the canvas, no rain falls for a good 60 feet in all directions of the canvas. It isn¡¯t raining as hard either. I slowly get up, and inch over to the edge. As I go to peek my head out. The bells on the other side of the campsite start to ring. ¡°HUH? Wh-" Rogue starts, Wizard slams her hand over his mouth. She puts a finger to her lips. The bells keep ringing. Then another trap starts to go off, and then another. Until all 8 of the traps we¡¯ve set up start to ring. Wizard and Rogue have roused Cleric and Fighter. All at once the bells stop ringing. Then with an eerie laugh the rain starts again, pouring down as hard as ever. Each set of wire, and bells lands in a pile in front of me. Just outside the canvas. I squint a little, and see the form of a woman walking, the rain falling onto her invisible form, but just barely. It heads off towards the mountain. ¡°what the fuck was that?¡± Fighter asks his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Nature spirit playing a prank, probably.¡± I lay back down on my bedroll. ¡°Back to sleep then.¡± I should probably leave an offering. I might actually cook something tomorrow, I brought some fresh ingredients. I roll over, and nod to sleep again. Wizard wakes me up again, this time however it is light(er) out. Her eyes are bloodshot, and she has heavy bags. ¡°You didn¡¯t sleep?¡± She shakes her head. ¡°I¡¯ll show you some measures to counteract ghosts later. This isn¡¯t a ghost though, it¡¯s a nature spirit. Like something that makes harvests better, or watches over a particular part of a forest.¡± I tell her. ¡°R-really?¡± I nod. ¡°Now I need to get a fire going to make an offering to the spirit.¡± The others are roused. ¡°I need you lot to find some large rocks. And build a shrine with them. Something that will keep the food dry.¡± I pull out a bundle of sticks called a fire-starter by the group. I set it on the ground, and pile some other sticks around it. They are wet, but I was told it didn¡¯t matter. I pull out a flint, and steel. Strike once, strike twice, strike thrice, strike a fourth time, and a fifth time, sixth time''s a charm, and a seventh time. Cleric walks over takes the flint and steel from me, and strikes once igniting the fire-starter, with a smug smile. ¡°Warmed it up for you.¡± I say. She nods. ¡°Uh huh.¡± I pile some more branches on top of the immediately blazing fire. Drops of rain hiss, and spit as they hit the hot wood. It¡¯s apparently a goblin innovation, that adventurers adapted. I have the blaze going steady now, and pull over a medium sized log to burn. Putting a few others in the periphery of the fire to dry off, and burn eventually. Fighter pulls a metal grate out of his bag, and passes it to me. It¡¯s a finely made thing, and sits over a fire to cook food on. Little legs fold out of its sides and snap stable. I nestle it over the fire, and put the wok on it. I use a sturdy wooden plank to chop up a dragons eye, some cured meat, and a few veggies, carrots, an onion, and a handful of mushrooms. I pull a handful of eggs out of my bag, and whisk them together. I didn¡¯t have to worry about salmonella, since it¡¯s only in American chickens, or was it. I decided to contemplate that later. I wish I had a bit of milk, but that wasn¡¯t in the cards right now. I took a bit of fat, and put it into the wok. I let it sit a little using a knife to maneuver it around the bottom. Once the bottom is coated pour the eggs, and veggies in. I drop a few pieces of meat into the baby omelet I let it cook for a little, I break it up turning it into scrambled eggs with veggies, and meat in it. The party has piled up some slate, and a few short, and sturdy pieces of wood into a small shrine. Like a shitty shrine in the mountains from an anime. I divide the food in half. There is quite a lot of it. I put one half in to a bowl, and walk over to the shrine using the umbrella to shield the food. I place the bowl into the small alcove, and kneel on the soggy ground. ¡°I thank you spirit of mulched earth, and dead leaves. Of a cooling rain, and warm breeze. Of muddy ground, and rocky soil. Of barren trees, and vines that coil. Thank you for your benevolence, and grant us your blessing.¡± I close my eyes, and nod my head. Then stand up, and brush my pants off. I head over to the canvas a serve out the rest of the food. I hand a bowl to each of the party. ¡°Was that a prayer from your home?¡± Cleric asks, between mouthfuls of breakfast. ¡°No, just a little rhyme I came up with on the spot.¡± Wizard pauses for a moment. ¡°So does your home worship, or revere spirits like that?¡± I tilt my head. ¡°Some people do, I was raised as a catholic, although I don¡¯t really practice.¡± Cleric perks up at that. ¡°What do they practice?¡± ¡°Well we have a huge book called the Bible that has a bunch of parables in it. And we believe in one true God, capital ¡®G¡¯. He has three parts the father, son, and holy spirit, different type of spirit. God spent seven days, although they are more metaphorical than literal, to create day and night, the earth, all the animals and plants, and humans. A long time after that he placed a child inside of a virgin woman, and Jesus was born. He died for everyone''s sins, and so that they could get accepted into heaven. Or thats what Catholics, and related denominations believe." I shovel some more food into my mouth. ¡°So what about other races, do the elves have a god like that for them?¡± Wizard asks. ¡°No just humans where I am from. Although we have stories about elves, dwarves, giants, etc. They are considered myth, and fantasy.¡± ¡°So how do you know so much about them?¡± Wizard asks. ¡°Inference, and trends in behavior. Goblins usually always act the same, Elves and Dwarves too. Slight variance exists, for example it¡¯s split 50/50 that Kobolds are reptoids related to Dragon, or Gnolls by a different name. I¡¯m a firm believer in the former. And I was right.¡± We finish our food, and pack our camp up in the same.way as yesterday, minus one bowl. The rain has calmed some, and the clouds have begun to thin out. While the rain is still coming down, we have visibility. This makes the rest of the journey much easier. And in two hours, or so we are at the foot of the mountain. The rain turns to a light drizzle. ¡°Well let''s do this, waiting around ain¡¯t gonna help us from doing anything.¡± I say, and start the climb up. Hopefully this goes well. Chapter 10- Wet shirt I was careful on the way up, slipping on a wet rock and falling off a mountain side is not a good way to go. I stopped at the cave mouth. ¡°What are we waiting for?¡± Cleric asks. I hold my hand up, then raise my staff and slam it on the floor causing the sound to echo into the cave. ¡°Waylax, it¡¯s the guy who gave birth to a dragon out of his mouth. Thanks by the way.¡± I hear a shifting in the cave. ¡°You may enter.¡± A voice grumbles. The party gives me terrified looks. ¡°I never said I killed this Dragon you just assumed.¡± I start walking into the cave. ¡°When you assume you make an ass of you and me.¡± I say back to them. I don''t hear them following behind me. ¡°Well hurry up then, or I¡¯ll ask him to roast you.¡± They pause for a moment, and then start running to catch up. We walk until we get to the wide cavern again. ¡°Ah the little dragon returns.¡± Waylax calls from the dark. ¡°May we light up the room?¡± I ask him. ¡°Oh yes I forget you cannot see in the dark.¡± Without a word light fills the room, showing Waylax in all his green splendor, the dragon from my dreams. ¡°Why have you come mortal?¡± Waylax asks. ¡°Invading my dreams was up there on the list.¡± He yawns, and shifts his claws hands laying his head down on them. ¡°So you want¡­?¡± ¡°What the fuck was that? The thing in my dream that turned into you.¡± Waylax pauses for a moment then waves his hand, a wave of green light washes over me making everything go quiet. He waves his hand again, and another wave of green washes over me and brings me into a white room. ¡°That,¡± He says pointing a large claw at the creature that has suddenly phased into existence. ¡°Is an elemental, although some people call them demons, or spirits. It is a special type of elemental I made in my youth. A gluttony elemental.¡± The Gluttony elemental disappears, and suddenly Waylax is in front of me. He reaches a claw down and pokes it into my chest, a green glow rippling around it. ¡°Let me explain a little more about dragons. The dragons you know from myth and legend aren¡¯t real Dragons. The real Dragons made the gods shiver, and hide under there beds. The Chromatic Queen, and Metallic Sire are shadows of what a Dragon could be. I am a dragon small ¡®d¡¯, I was once a simple lizard with a spark of draconic energy in me. My energy was awakened during a great famine, and my hunger knew no bounds. Earning me the name The dragon of Gluttony. Dragon blooded individuals like us must be careful, as all of our power is centered around a corner stone so to speak.¡± He lifts his claw, a small lizard floats out of his chest. A darker green like him, with 3 rows of needle like teeth, and long curved claws. A timelapse of the lizard eating everything and anything in sight growing larger and larger. ¡°My cornerstone is eating. While I can control my appetite now, I birthed a number of gluttony elementals. They devoured each other leaving the last one. Which I¡¯ve imprisoned in your staff. The staff took on an interesting aspect, growing stronger with the variety of food the wielder has eaten. Had I known you consumed an even greater variety of food then me I would never have given it to you. It took a great amount of my strength to force it down. It also awakened your Dragon Bloodline.¡± He shakes his head and lets out a heavy sigh. ¡°Thankfully your Cornerstone was not damaged heavily, but it will take on an aspect of gluttony. Shifting towards Greed, Gluttony, or Envy. dragons have a very hands off approach to raising their own kind. My actions however forfeited that. I will do my best to protect you, but nearly the whole of dragon kind would itch at the chance of raising a new minion. But I will stick to tradition, no help from me figure out your cornerstone on your own.¡± I feel the air stretch, it¡¯s hard to describe like gravity is suddenly pulling in more than one direction. A woman steps into the white space. Her hair drips wet with water, which runs down her whole body. It soaks through one of my dress shirts, which she happens to be wearing. The shirt is unbuttoned and revealing, although a mix of her hair, and the water shawl she wears covers her privates. Her long, and pointed ears peek out of the back of my headset which she is also.wearing. She is very beautiful, and I have the sudden urge to go over and do anything for her. I quash the feeling, and shove it out of my mind. ¡°This the little bitch you fucked up Laxy?¡± She looks me up, and down. ¡°What are you looking at dickhead?¡± She says to me. ¡°Nothing you just got something on your,¡± I point towards my face. ¡°Oh nope nevermind that¡¯s just your face.¡± She squints at me. ¡°Do you know who you are talking to? I am el-¡± ¡°A little bitch.¡± I interrupt her. She examines me again.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Laxy can I keep him, please? Pretty please? Pretty pretty please with a cherry on top?¡± She clasps her hands together and gives Waylax puppy eyes. ¡°No you cannot keep the fledgling Eldra. And yes this is the fledgling who has eaten more than me.¡± He grumbles that last line, like I just took his spot on the leaderboard of a game. ¡°Why are you wearing my headset?¡± She tilts her head. I point my finger at my ears. She gets a realization understanding me. ¡°Oh I was trying to get your Magical Appliance to work. The big metal box, I¡¯ve never seen craftsmanship so fine.¡± She pauses for a moment. ¡°From this world.¡± She gives me a knowing look. ¡°It¡¯s called a computer, I¡¯ll show you when we leave.¡± I look around. ¡°How do we leave?¡± The space seemed to fold in on itself, and poof everything was back to normal. Like they hadn¡¯t even gone anywhere. Eldra walked out from behind Waylax. Still in my dress shirt, and with my headset. I turn to the party. ¡°Get comfortable I¡¯m gonna be here a while. Alright Eldra let¡¯s get this working or figure out how to.¡± I walk with her past Waylax, and towards my luggage which is now open. Packs of ramen are strewn about one of them is opened and partially eaten. My filter water bottle is on the ground. My cooking knives are laid out neatly, my computer, and it¡¯s associated wires plus my monitor is sitting out. I walk over to the tower, and start connecting wires. ¡°This here is the HDMI it is a type of wire that transmits electrical energy. You plug the HDMI into the back of the computer and the other end into the monitor.¡± I pull a small usb out of a side pocket, and plug it into a port. ¡°This little device uses waves in the air to send a signal to the headset you are wearing sending sounds. If you click the button on the left side, no the one above that button.¡± The headset lights up and a robotic voice says. ¡°Power On¡± ¡°Shit!¡± Eldra exclaims. ¡°How the fuck do you keep a small person in there?¡± She pulls the headset off. ¡°Is it a fairy?¡± ¡°No electronic signals cause a specially made device inside the headset to vibrate causing aound to come out.¡± She nods. ¡°What is electronic?¡± I think for a moment. ¡°It means electric powered. Electricity is essentially harnessed lightning. However that does not mean shock all of my devices with lightning. They require a certain amount of voltage and amps to work. Those are the intensity, and strength of the electrical discharge.¡± She nods her head. ¡°I think I understand.¡± I plug in the power cords to the devices, but with no outlets they are useless. ¡°These would normally go into a outlet, which is a specially fitted socket that supplies electricity through wires in a house.¡± I throw my hands up. ¡°However we have none of these things so good luck getting it to work.¡± ¡°Wait why wouldn¡¯t shooting electricity work? We could do the things you said the foliage and clamps. If we get them right then it would work.¡± I shake my head. ¡°No, no. If you send to much or the wrong amount through, it could damage the computer, and I don¡¯t see any replacement parts lying around.¡± I pull out my phone. ¡°Wanna listen to some music?¡± I pull up some Marina and the Diamonds. I had only ¡®found¡¯ her music a day before my displacement, but had the forethought to download all her albums ata friends house incase I lost internet. ¡°This is that electrontit you were talking about?¡± She asks looking at my phone. She closed her eyes and listened to ¡®Froot¡¯. ¡°Turn the music off, give me the device.¡± She says holding her hand out. Her eyes are still closed. ¡°Why?¡± She lets out a groan. ¡°You, and your questions. Give me the hand computer that plays the fruit music.¡± ¡°No what are going to do with it?¡± She groans again, more violently this time. ¡°I can feel the electrity or whatever inside of it. It¡¯s similar to magical energy.¡± I hesitantly put my phone into her hand. ¡°So, what? You are gonna feel out the device and use it to power my computer?¡± She closes her eyes harder as she concentrates. ¡°Shut up.¡± I grit my teeth wanting to retort back. ¡°Here is your hand computer humey.¡± She tosses it gently to me. I snatch it out of the air. ¡°Hey watch it¡­ dammit I don¡¯t have a good comeback for Nereids.¡± Her head snaps to me. ¡°Your shawl, made it kind of obvious. Plus I¡¯m pretty sure I felt your compulsion. Your jedi mind tricks don¡¯t work on me however.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a jedi whatever that is.¡± She hisses at me. I raise my hands. ¡°Woah it¡¯s a joke, I refer to stories about crazy magical warriors that fight with swords made of light, hate sand, and have the high ground.¡± She relaxes, and thinks for a moment. ¡°Why do they hate sand?¡± She asks. ¡°¡®It''s coarse, and rough, and irritating, and it gets everywhere.¡¯ or so they say. That¡¯s besides the point however, what were you going to do?¡± I ask her. ¡°HEY LAXY!¡± She shouts. ¡°What is with your incessant need to shout at the top of your lungs constantly? I have been watching you work this entire time. You saw me watching you work.¡± Waylax grumbles. A hot breath rolls down my back as he sighs, it¡¯s sulfurous and wet. ¡°I need your help to make a magic converter.¡± He lets out a sigh. ¡°Very well then, but I expect recompense.¡± Waylax reaches up, and plucks a scale from his back. He uses a claw to deftly carve a circle, and a small number of symbols into its surface. He carves a line from the edge of the circle off the side of the scale. ¡°That should do.¡± He places it down near the computer. While I was distracted by Waylax I seem to have missed Eldras part. She holds a shimmering ball of water. Motes of light float inside of it, but the water seems to have a barrier. Like a glass bowl fish tank, except without the glass. ¡°Fledgey lift the scale, and bring it close to the orb.¡± I bend over and pick up the dense scale. Straining to lift it to the appropriate height. ¡°I have a name you know.¡± I edge closer, and raise the scale slightly. She waves her hand, and twirls her wrist. A tendril of water emerges from the sphere, and it attaches to the scale. It runs through the line and circle, some jumps into the symbols. She begins to walk backwards, stretching the tendril. It eventually becomes taught, and the water starts to drain from the sphere, reducing its size. She reaches her free hand into the sphere, and pulls out a second globe. The two globes are separated by about 6 inches of tendril then merge together into a slightly thicker tendril that stretches towards the scale. Which I am still holding. She bends over at the computer, and attaches one now very small orb to computers power cord, and the second to the monitors. ¡°Now set the scale down.¡± I lower my arms, careful not to drop it. She walks over to the scale. She says a few words, I don¡¯t understand in the slightest. The scale glows briefly, and pulses with a yellow light. The light travels down the circle towards the water tendrils, then through the tendrils. It splits at the divide, and travels into the computer. The computer glows briefly and pulses back, the glow travelling back down to the scale. After a moment of nothing. The scale vibrates a little and raises into the air. The symbols glow with light, and what looks like a beam of white light flows down the tendril. When it meets the computers cord, a familiar hum starts up as the fans kick to life. I walk over and place my finger over the power button. ¡°The moment of truth.¡± I press the button. The screen flickers to life, and my computer starts up. Chapter 11- Big stones ¡°How did you do it?¡± I ask Eldra. I examine the tendrils connected to the hovering dragon scale. ¡°Well I just used a magic construct to relay power through. The scale absorbs ambient magical energy, and that flows through the construct. The construct communicates to the computer and asks how much electricity it wants. It converts the magical into electricity, and the rest flows into the construct to sustain it.¡± She scratches the back of her head. ¡°Most magical items that recharge themselves work like that.¡± I nod. I had no idea the first thing about magical items but apparently my computer counted as one. Which meant I had to be extra careful with my phone. Mending could fix a break, but not restore the effects of magic lost that way. ¡°Since I fixed it can I keep it?¡± I give her question some thought it¡¯s not like I could bring it back to town. I wasn¡¯t sure if the construct and scale would last either. Didn¡¯t even have internet. ¡°Let¡¯s lay down some ground rules first. Number 1 the computer and any of its parts cannot be anywhere near water, ocean water especially.¡± She frowns. ¡°Water can cause it to break. Second IF I ever find a way back home I reserve the right to take my computer back at that time. Third I may need to occasionally use it, or want to use it. Like to watch a movie. Fourth this is more of a request. You seem good with artifacts, I would like to develop some more of a similar nature and could use your help. Fifth do you have a way I can contact you?¡± She nods with a big smile. ¡°I can do it I can do those things. Gonna need to make a hydrophobia enchant though.¡± She thinks for a moment. ¡°Also what the fuck is a Nereid doing up here?¡± I ask. She slams a fist into her open palm. ¡°Oh I felt the pulse of energy when you used the staff. I panicked, sometimes dragons do shit like this. So I flew over here to get it sorted but found out Laxy already took care of it.¡± She frowns at that. Things were clicking into place. ¡°So you are have a greed cornerstone, or is it more like protection?¡± She narrows her eyes. ¡°Calm down Eldra. He is young.¡± Waylax says. ¡°Fledgling it is considered a grave offence to ask or question a dragons cornerstone. Like asking their deepest weakness.¡± She shakes her head, and spits. ¡°Now, now Eldra you are only a handful of centuries older than him. You were young, and naive once too.¡± Eldra storms off around Waylax, I feel electricity in the air. Then a slim, and winding serpent grows in the cave. Pearlescent scales that shine with the rainbow cover its body. The new dragon twists like a serpent ready to strike, and with a crack of thunder and a gale force wind, it flies out of the cave. Waylax lets out a sigh. ¡°Still so hot headed.¡± I rock back and forth on the soles of my shoes. ¡°So Waylax, I should let you know that everyone thinks your dead.¡± His head turn around to me. ¡°What?¡± I scratch the back of my head, and avert my eyes. ¡°So at the time I didn¡¯t know you were a dragon, and I walked out of the cave. So everyone just kinda assumed the only person who would walk out of a dragon''s cave is someone who would kill a dragon.¡± I pace over towards my suitcase and begin to pack away my few clothes, and about the ramen that was strewn about. ¡°However they made me a lord of all the land, so I will declare your cave dangerous, like some sort of gas or something is leaking out and it¡¯s highly toxic, and corrosive. Also¡­. I promised a friend that owns a tavern called the Dragon''s lair I would get her a souvenir, something worthy of the name, so I was hoping you had a scale, or tooth, or claw extra.¡± Waylax gives me a look. That look you give your 6 year old cousin when they ask to play games on your phone. ¡°What shall you give me in return? I know that Eldra can keep up her end of the bargain, much as she is loathe to relinquish one of her possessions.¡± I smile at this. ¡°A wager, I bet I can make one of the greatest soups you have ever had with a stone.¡± Waylax narrows his eyes, a mixture of curiosity and insult on his reptilian face. ¡°You mock me.¡± I cross my heart, and hold my hand up. ¡°Scouts honor.¡± He snorts, ¡°I know not these scouts so their honor means little to me. But if you believe yourself so mighty¡­¡± He cranes his neck, and selects a small smooth pebble. Barely the size of my fingernail. ¡°Your stone.¡± I take the stone from his grasp, holding reverently. I pull out a small bowl, and place the stone within it. ¡°Fighter take the wok, fill it up ? the way, then return.¡± I shuffle around the cavern, and select a number of ancient torches. They sit dried and decaying, in the corners where large dragon claws cannot reach. I pile the scrap wood around the metal stand we used to cook the eggs. It only takes me 5 tries before the fire starts. Fighter comes staggering in with the wok, and places it atop the small metal stand. When the water begins to boil I gingerly lift the rock, and place it into the water. I use a large wooden spoon to stir the water. Everyone watches me nervously, I have them enthralled by my cooking. After a few minutes of the soup boiling, I lift the spoon up with a small amount of hot water. I blow to cool it, and place it to my lips. ¡°Ahhhh just right. This soup is going to be wonderful. Alas it is missing something.¡± I scratch my chin as if deep in thought. ¡°Salt! And pepper! With those two ingredients it would be leaps, and bounds better.¡± I exclaim. Wizard lifts to small pouches from her pack, and hands them to me. Waylax doesn''t protest focused on the stone, and the ¡°magical" soup it will make. I grab a pinch of salt and pepper each, and with a flourish sprinkle them into the boiling water. I stir the soup once again with the spoon, and after another minute or so taste the salty, peppery water. ¡°Yes, yes. Absolutely delicious, what would only enhance this soup would be some of the onions, and garlic we bought in the market.¡± Cleric opens her bag, and pulls out the rest of the onions, and a few cloves of garlic. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°Thank you Cleric.¡± I pull out my plastic cutting board, and dice up the onion, and mince the garlic. I add these to the wok. I stir the water again. After a few minutes I sample the ¡°soup¡± again. I frown. ¡°What¡¯s wrong.¡± Waylax asks. ¡°Nothing but the soup has yet to reach it¡¯s full potential. It would be an insult to serve it otherwise. If we added some peppers we could get closer though.¡± Rogue grabs a couple of peppers from my bag. I clean them up removing the membrane and seeds. Then cut them into long thin strips. I dump them into the pot. The smell of garlic and onions begins to waft up. I can see Waylax nodding in agreement. I stir the soup again tasting the soup after a few minutes. ¡°Hmmm it¡¯s still not quite right.¡± I glance around. ¡°Do we have any mushrooms while the rock is good, some more earthy flavour would be perfect.¡± Waylax turns his head, but keeps one eye trained on the soup. He pulls a load of small button mushrooms from somewhere. I clap my hands together. ¡°Wonderful. We can place them in right away.¡± With some plops, the mushrooms fall into the wok. I stir them up, taking my time to let the veggies cook. I sample the soup once again. ¡°If only we had something a little sweet, something nice and juicey to add.¡± Cleric pulls a few tomatoes out. ¡°Excellent those will be wonderful.¡± I cut the tomatoes into bite sized pieces, and put it into the wok. I stir, and let the tomatoes release their juices. When the skin starts to shrivel a bit I taste the soup again. I make a show of getting some mushroom. ¡°Hmmm. It needs a¡­ crunch. If we had something with a nice snap to it when you bite.¡± Fighter pulls carrots from the aether? I have no idea where he was keeping them. I peel the carrots then cut them into small pieces and throw them in. I stir it and after a minute I taste. ¡°Wonderful, but still. This soup is missing something,¡± I scan the room, and let out a sigh. ¡°We have no meat to add. Without it the soup will never reach it¡¯s true potential. What a shame, what a shame.¡± I dejectedly return to stirring the soup with a sigh. Peeking at Waylax out of the corner of my eye. ¡°I could resolve that, in a moment.¡± He lifts up a wooden chest, and rifles through it. Pulling out a bright blue bag, covered with snowflake stitching. He opens the top, and a wave of mist rolls out. With a tug he pulls the cold body of a fawn from the bag. It has been cleaned, with no fur, and the internal organs removed. He taps his claw to the ceiling of the cave, and a hook on a chain falls with a jingle. I walk over and examine the corpse. ¡°Excellent, Excellent, rarely do I get to use my cleaver.¡± My cleaver was a small thing, not the giant ones they used in movies. I had a larger one, but that wasn¡¯t on me. I remove the tenderloins first, then take the hind legs off the deer. The ball socket is a little tricky, but with a practiced hand I pop it. I set those aside. Then remove the first shoulder. I use a longer knife this time, and circle it around the muscle. It comes off cleanly. With two quick slices I remove the flanks. I run my knife along the spine, and work to get the backstrap off which I have the hardest time doing usually. I take the rib meat off, then the meat I¡¯m actually going to use. Which is the neck meat or stew meat. With the carcass mostly clean I spend a minute trimming it, and pile that meat with the bit of neck meat. With a few cuts I clean up, and cut the trimmings. Then add the meat into the pot. ¡°The soup won¡¯t need anything more than the trimmings.¡± Everyone stares at me. ¡°What? I have skills other than keeping you idiots alive, I have to keep myself alive to do that.¡± I stir the pot anew, as the meat cooks within it. The colour shifts from pinkish red to brown, and a wonderful smell begins to waft. While I would like to have added some stock, or even bullion, I¡¯m satisfied. I sample the broth, ¡°Delicious, it is just missing the garnish.¡± Waylax takes in a deep breath of rising steam. ¡°Garnish?¡± I nod. Waving the spoon about. ¡°A few herbs to add to the stones flavor. Some parsley, chives, thyme any, or all would do.¡± Wizard pulls another bag from her pack and opens it. She picks a few pieces of dried parsley and thyme from inside, and hands then to me. ¡°Thank you very much Wizard.¡± I sprinkle the herbs over the soup, and remove some of the less on fire kindling to reduce the heat. I give it one last stir. With a pair of tongs I carefully lift the stone from the pot, and place it in a bowl. I set that aside, and begin ladeling the soup into a bowl for everybody. Waylax can just use the wok. ¡°Go ahead it¡¯s finished.¡± Waylax lifts the soup to his mouth. With a slurp he drinks the broth. His eyes widen, ¡°From a stone.¡± He whispers. The others take sips as well enjoying the warm broth. Waylax takes another slurp. ¡°Why remove the stone at the end?¡± He asks, using his clawed fingers to lift the stone into the air. ¡°Well you can¡¯t eat rocks. So now that the soup is finished and the stone had released all it¡¯s flavour, we can remove it.¡± He nods. ¡°You surprised me with how delicious this stone soup is. I will grant you a scale, on the condition I may keep the stone.¡± I smile. ¡°It¡¯s yours if I can have one of the bags of holding you own, doesn¡¯t have to have anything in it or be special. Just something to keep supplies in.¡± He taps a claw against his chin making a loud clacking noise. ¡°Very well, but I might ask a small favor. You share any new, or interesting recipes you make with me.¡± I nod. ¡°That sounds fair.¡± He lifts the large chest up and lets go it leaving it hovering in the air. He pulls a small roll of black, I recognize as a portable hole. He places it on the wall unrolling it to it¡¯s full length. Inside is china cabinet. A ladle carved with sigils, a floating spoon, a dull looking wooden for, a knife that seems to cut the very fabric of reality as it rests. He places the soup stone next to a chipped teacup cup, and a plate made of the night sky. He peels the portable hole off of the wall, and rolls it back up. He tucks it back into the chest. He shuffles the bags around in the chest, and pulls out a well worn hard leather pack. It has two pockets on either side and hooks for rope. I take the handy haversack off of his claws. ¡°The pack doesn¡¯t fit my frame so I have little use for it other than to store supplies. I can fill it¡¯s space with three more bags now.¡± I think he was just rationalizing giving it away. ¡°Thank you for your generous offer. This is much more than you could have given, I will be sure to pass along any interesting foods and recipes.¡± I reply. He lets out a snort. ¡°Before I forget,¡± He reaches down and pulls a smaller scale from the tip of his scale. This one is only the size of my hand and not a dinner plate. It¡¯s incredibly dense as well. I tuck it into the Handy Haversack. ¡°Thank you again. If you don¡¯t mind I was hoping to walk down that cave, and find how I came here.¡± He waves a claw, and yawns. He rests his head on one of his arms, and looks at me through half closed eyes. ¡°As long as you don¡¯t disturb my pickling process, or make a ruckus feel free.¡± He says. The party has finished eating their meal. Cleric just looks fucking angry. She glares daggers at me, like any second I¡¯m gonna light on fire. Wizard is studying the cave, scribbling furiously onto the loose sheets of paper I had her pack. She picks a few scattered pieces of fungus and moss, placing them into small glass vials. Rogue has an equally inquisitive eye, but looks at everything like a merchant. I could see it days from now in the market square ¡®Dust from a dragons cave sure to cure all ails¡¯, or ¡®Dragon stones for soups and stews.¡¯ Fighter is the strangest of all he keeps doing breathing exercises, like he is about to go into a job interview, or give a presentation for a crowd of people. I let them rest a few minutes as I repack my gear, which is just me upending my current pack into the Handy Haversack. I attach the rope to the bottom set of hooks and the wok to the upper set of hooks normally intended for a bedroll. I slide my bedroll into the Handy Haversack. I transfer the stuff in my luggage into the Handy Haversack as well. I keep the apron on however it¡¯s handy to have the knives in arms reach. I keep my bag of flour and my coin pouch on my hip, and make a mental note that I should get some more ball bearings and caltrops for personal use. ¡°Come on, I have something to check and you lot are coming with me.¡± I tell the party. I had been debating whether or not to try and find the place I had come in, but wasn¡¯t really sure how I would find it again. Guess this is a sidequest? Subquest? Minor arc? This is more like the second part of a chain quest. I shoulder my pack and stare into the darkness beyond. ¡°Same position as always, watch the ceilings and walls. The environment is 3 dimensional now meaning threats can come from one or more directions at once with little notice.¡± We head down the cave, and towards, hopefully, some answers. ------------ Eldra¡¯s soaked body walks back in. ¡°I still don¡¯t understand why you are protecting him, you even used the old ways to awaken him.¡± Eldra says malice clear in her voice. ¡°You didn¡¯t even tell him the true nature of the staff. Growing stronger the more types of food you have eaten? What the fuck does that even mean.¡± Eldra waits for a response, but Waylax stares down the tunnel after them. ¡°Well Waylaxilantarian the Cannibal? You gave him a staff carved from the last bone of the Tree Drakes, besides you of course, infused with a piece of your very soul.¡± Waylax shakes his head. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t understand. He was unfettered, unchained, unrestricted, but weak. I had to claim him.¡± He stares at Eldra an intensity in his gaze. ¡°I had forgotten the feeling, from my youth, from before my mind slipped. I remember now, I remember what it is to feel fear. You grew up in relative safety, and comfort. I peered into his unshielded mind, and felt fear at what I saw.¡± He taps a claw against the floor. ¡°He has stared into the abyss, and the abyss blinked. If I let him roam he would destroy the world.¡± Eldra squints at him. ¡°So what kill him. He is a simple mortal, a human no less, powerful but untrained.¡± Waylax shakes his head. ¡°You do not know the greater trouble that would bring. The Seer gave me one thing, and that was this task, this redemption. Killing him would simply delay the inevitable, and the fates hate to be interrupted, even more so by those who know what they will weave.¡± Eldra places her hands on her hips. ¡°So what? He has some part in a prophecy?¡± Waylax clicks his tongue. ¡°Still so young. No he is not part of a prophecy, he is the prophecy.¡± Chapter 12- This number is no longer in service The walk was more exhausting on the way down. Looking into the darkness for threats, I have no idea how I managed it the first time. The light spells were useful, and my gear was barely 8 pounds. Lighter than anything I carried in high school. The tunnel was a straight shot, past the bad eggs, and the piping I stumbled over on my way up. I shouldn''t say piping because it was actually a body. Someone''s steel plate armor with bones inside. We took a few minutes to consecrate the body, and strip the corpse of it¡¯s armor. Not in that order. The armor slid nicely into the haversack when we took it apart. Worth a hundred gold at least. We rested after another hour or two of walking. While the cave hadn¡¯t leveled out the ground wasn¡¯t very steep. Wizard cracked open a sunrod since she wouldn¡¯t be awake to cast light, and fires were hazardous in closed spaces. We used a water clock this time. Less accurate, and had to be reset at every watch, but wouldn¡¯t use our air, or cause dangerous gas to ignite. Sunrods were interesting. In a 30 foot circle they lit up the area as bright as the sun. The light travelled past that, but faded. It would last a couple hours at least until Wizards, and Clerics watches. I offered to take first watch. I would sleep sounder if I was more tired. I spent most of the time meditating, I attempted to ¡®circle energy¡¯ or find my ¡®dantian¡¯ whatever the fuck that was. When I had entered that white space I felt something. Like a tug on my entire being. I think that Waylax was hinting towards me to use it, or atleast figure out how to get there. So I tried to find myself, or sense some sort of energy around me. I personally didn¡¯t buy into the Chi/Ki cultivation crap, but apparently I¡¯m a dragon so I¡¯m open to trying things out. ¡°Yu mo gui gwai fai di zao. Yu mo gui gwai fai di zao.¡± I chant quietly. I feel a tugging on my body, and open my eyes. A see a brief flash of white, and then it¡¯s gone. ¡°Shit, so close.¡± I murmur. I attempt to return to that state, but give up when the water clock jingles signaling the end of my watch. I rouse rogue, who resets the water clock as I turn over in my bedroll to sleep. I promptly fall asleep. Cleric wakes me in the morning with a swift kick to my shin. ¡°Morning to you too.¡± I groan in between grabbing my leg, and wiping the sleep from my eyes. We chew on some dried meats, and hard bread. Wizard takes some time to get the preparations for her spells together. I observe her as she works. She measures out handfuls of ash, bird talons, feathers, berries, sprigs of herbs, and metal shavings. Reviewing her spell book the entire time. The symbols on the page mean nothing to me. More like the notebook of a paranoid anarchist than a wizard. ¡°How does magic work?¡± I ask Wizard. She gives me an odd look. ¡°What do you mean? Magic is magic it just does.¡± I nod. ¡°Yes I understand, but how. Do you force your will on it? Or craft spell arrays? Do you have a pool of magical energy inside of yourself that you expend?¡± She considers the question for a moment. ¡°Can you add?¡± She asks me. I nod kinda skeptical. ¡°Okay then what''s one plus one?¡± ¡°Two¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°How did you do that math? Did you force your will on it? Did you have to craft a math array? Do you have a pool of math energy inside you that you used?¡± She says. I think I¡¯m starting to understand. ¡°Power like this can be divided into four distinct categories. Magic, Psionic, Ki, and Divine or Demonic. You can also throw eldritch users like warlocks under the divine or demonic, but pious types get really butt hurt about it.¡± She whispers that last part. ¡°Wizards, sorcerers, and bards all use some form of magic. The most important part here is the way magic is used. Wizards and bards are most similar. They use a certain amount of magic energy drawn from their surroundings. Wizards take a more formal approach and use their foci a wand or some such. Bards use an instrument, clothing, or some cases their own vocal chords. Sorcerer have magic literally coursing through their veins, and when they exhaust all that magic they have to rest to recover it. Psions are pretty rare so I don¡¯t know much about them, and you¡¯d have to go to Isekai to learn more about Ki users. Anise could tell you more about Divine casters.¡± We finish packing our gear. ¡°Thanks for the explanation.¡± She gives me a toothy smile. ¡°You are welcome.¡± ¡°Hey,¡± I ask Wizard. ¡°Want me to carry the scroll case since I have the magical backpack now?¡± She looks a little nervous. ¡°Uhh, no I¡¯m fine.¡± I furrow my brow. ¡°You sure?¡± ¡°Y-Yeah if you need some paper you can just reach into my pack and take it.¡± ¡°Okay then.¡± I¡¯m not gonna fight the issue. After an hour of walking i pause. ¡°This should be about the area. So cast detection spells, and give a thorough inspection of the area. Let me know if you find anything out of the ordinary¡± Fighter salutes, and starts lifting up rocks to check under them, just gonna assume he rolled a one. Wizard starts off with a detect magic. ¡°God¡¯s above!¡± Wizard exclaims. I rush over. ¡°What happened?¡± I ask her. She points down the tunnel, and starts walking. Squinting her eyes as she goes. ¡°I think it¡¯s a rift.¡± She stares at blank space. ¡°I visited one once, it was in the caldera of a volcano a tribe of goblins who believed it to be a god worshipped it.¡± Everyone has no idea what she is talking about. ¡°It¡¯s a rip in the fabric of the plane. But it¡¯s weird like someone made a rift to the same plane which isn¡¯t possible. Normally they have an iris that surrounds the rift where reality meets and twists between them. This however has none so we can¡¯t see it. That and it¡¯s sealed.¡± She reaches out a hand and taps the air. It sends a ripple like water. ¡°Whoah!¡± Cleric says. ¡°How the fuck did you know this was here?¡± Cleric asks. I hold my arms out, ¡°Tads, that¡¯s how I fucking got here. Just kinda woke up in this cave. Or maybe I was on the other side and walked through. Nothing to do about it now. Just wanted to confirm something that¡¯s all.¡± I stretch and crack my back. ¡°Let¡¯s head back up.¡± Wizard gives me a look. ¡°So we are just gonna leave this here?¡± I nod. ¡°Yup, when I¡¯m stronger we can come back, and open it up. Can you imagine I¡¯m like Christopher Columbus. I¡¯m going to tax the living shit out of this portal. Gold, dollars I¡¯m going to be an old, rich, and fat dragon.¡± I could practically see the pools of money I can dive into. A literal untapped resource on my land that I own. Now just need some countermeasures for modern tech. I should be able to jump s-. DOO doo Doo doo doo DOOOO. My phone rings. I open the call and pick up. ¡°Hello?¡± I say. ¡°Do you have credit card debt? By joining our-" I hit the end call button. I look down at my phone. ¡°Oh oh oh oh OH OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH.¡± I jump up, and down. Two bars, TWO FUCKING BARS. I COULD REVOLUTIONIZE EVERY INDUSTRY. I open up the internet app, and my phone dies. ¡°Fan-fucking-tastic.¡± Chapter 13- A few small problems I tuck my dead phone into my pocket. ¡°We need to head back, my phone is dead.¡± ¡°What the fuck just happened?¡± Cleric asks. ¡°I could feel it,¡± Rogue says. ¡°With my money sense. It¡¯s a gold mine, isn''t it?¡± ¡°Like a goblin gave you a rock, and underneath the grime it¡¯s a hunk of adamantium.¡± Rogue whistles. ¡°That much?¡± ¡°If it works out with even a tenth of the efficiency I hope it will, living comfortably for the rest of your life will be forever.¡± ¡°I¡¯m still really fucking confused.¡± Cleric says. I take a breath. ¡°So on my world- plane. We essentially use these invisible waves in the air. We can talk to each other from 1000 of miles away, and look up any information from anywhere with them.¡± I raise my phone into the air. ¡°This device can access all of that knowledge. It however has a charge, so right now it won¡¯t function.¡± I scratch the stubble on my face. This could be troublesome. I probably have about 30 feet of space to work with before I lose connection. I¡¯ll have to talk to Waylax about this, grease his palm over a little. I have access to plenty of recipes now, just probably not all the ingredients. I might have to ask him to move, or atleast bare with us as we tunnel through the base of the mountain. ¡°I¡¯ll need some help from you guys. First things first, how are roads? Are they well maintained? Are they dirt, or cobbles? Do they often pool with water?¡± I ask them. ¡°Why roads?¡± Fighter asks. ¡°If you have access to more technologies, couldn¡¯t we use them to improve agriculture, communication, or metallurgy? Let alone that we could use advanced technologies to broker deals between various allied states, and those we are at odds with. Cementing ourselves as a superpower.¡± Everyone turns to look at Fighter. Where the fuck did that come from. ¡°Um, uh. Well we need to begin improving infrastructure first. Then we can start improving, and developing newer technologies. Roads are the first step in that. The ability to move troops, goods, and people quickly and safely is key. But we are wasting time here. Let¡¯s head to the surface, and out of this cave.¡± We collect ourselves, have a short snack and then head back up to the surface. Rogue used a piece if chalk he carried to mark the wall, so we could return easily. Waylax cleared out that rotten egg smell which I¡¯m grateful for. When we get back to Waylax¡¯s main dwelling he is gone along with his stuff, my computer and Eldra. On the floor is a scrap of paper. Hey Bitch, it¡¯s Eldra. Waylax can¡¯t write with his big meaty claws so I am instead. He decided that he¡¯s been stuck in his cave to long, and is missing out on all the new flavors and foods mortals have developed. He left a sending stone in case you need to contact him. He¡¯s probably gonna find a new lair near some other city, somewhere more habited, so he has access to different foods. P.S. He also didn¡¯t want you bothering him all the time. P.P.S. also now you don¡¯t have to worry about people thinking he is dead. Underneath the letter was a smooth flat stone, one side has an ear carved into it the other has a mouth. I tuck it into my pocket. ¡°Welp we don¡¯t have to worry about Waylax anymore. The cave should remain relatively undisturbed for now. In time we will return.¡± I lead the party out of the cave, and onto the mountain side. The rain has stopped leaving a rainbow hanging in the afternoon sky. The dark heavy clouds slowly move along, perpendicular to our path. We make sure to be careful on the slow walk down the mountain path. The forest is alive with animals. A small group of deer pass in front of our party. Bounding off when they notice us. Small droplets of water fall from the tree branches as we walk along. The walk is much faster than the previous days, and although we left during the afternoon, we make good time. We must¡¯ve missed the shrine, because I can¡¯t find it anywhere. I wanted to rest up near it again for the night, but that doesn¡¯t seem like it¡¯s happening. We settle down on the wet ground, laying a sheet of canvas down to sleep on. The sky is clear and there is almost no wind so we don¡¯t hang anything above us. Our tents keep out the bugs, even if they are a bit cramped. ¡°Hey what season is it anyway? Summer, Winter, Spring, Fall, Rainy, Dry?¡± I ask the party. ¡°Fall,¡± Wizard says. ¡°Winters are milder, here than in the north. And the dragon eye¡¯s grow even in harsh cold.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. I nod. With the dragon eyes food doesn¡¯t look like much of a problem. Variety however would be nice, even if it¡¯s the way that they are prepared. Salted dragon eye slices baked into chips, dragon eyes covered in sugar, pickled dragon eyes, fried, deep fried, sauteed, etc. A true superfood, or would it be supernatural food? I cut some slices of dragon eyes and eat them as I sit and think. Cleric shudders, ¡°How can you eat those plain? It¡¯s like eating nothing.¡± I smile taking a large bite out of the fruit. ¡°Where I¡¯m from people eat fried crickets, fermented cabbage, live squids, cow tongues, and cereal without milk. Most of these are quite good, except the cereal people, they can rot.¡± I reply. I get an odd look, but no response. The sun paints the sky vibrant hues of red and orange, as it sets. I close my eyes and listen to the crackling fire, and the sounds of nature as the moon rises. Fighter shakes me gently. ¡°Hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey.¡± Followed by more shakes. He lets out a yawn. ¡°Your watch.¡± He whispers. When I¡¯m up he stumbles over to his bedroll, and trips on a branch. He lands at an odd angle on his bed, only his stomach actually on it, but a heavy snore tells me he doesn¡¯t care. I stoke the fire, and add a few leafless branches, and a handful of pine needles. The pine needles drive off any flies, which still buzz around despite the cool weather. I don my apron once again, since it at least has pockets to carry knives around. I walk around the camp, and catch the glint of bells in the tree line. They are reflecting the fire, and moonlight. Hopefully we can get something made that lacks that metallic luster. Cold iron perhaps, maybe with little spikes to turn them into a makeshift flail. I check each of the traps, and decide they did a well enough job. I have the sudden urge to use the bathroom and walk some distance into woods to relieve myself. I hang my apron on a branch beside me and drop my pants. The gentle sound of splashing liquid drowning out noises of the forest. I hear the sound of some rustling, and then some whimpering cries. It¡¯s maybe 50 more feet into the woods. This is some spooky shit, and I finish up. I pull a chef''s knife from my apron, and walk about half the distance to the noise. ¡°Hello, I would appreciate if you would make yourself known, or fuck off.¡± I call out quietly into the woods. I hear some more sobbing from a small cluster of bushes. I walk about five feet closer. ¡°p-please¡­¡± I hear a voice call out. This is suspect as fuck. ¡°I¡¯m just going to get my friends and then come back.¡± I say. ¡°n-no, help¡­¡± The voice says. Definitely suspect I know an ambush encounter when I see one. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll help I say.¡± I take off sprinting in the opposite direction, back towards camp. I hear snarling. ¡°Shit!¡± I hear from about 15 feet to my left. Branches break as whatever the fuck is in the woods starts chasing after me. ¡°WAKE THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING COCKSUCKERS, SOME SPOOKY SHIT IS AFTER US!¡± I shout at the top of my lungs. I¡¯m about 15 feet from camp when I get tackled to the ground. Something bites me and latches onto my leg. I go sprawling. I flip over it¡¯s a fucking worg. 3 feet tall, 300 pounds and about the average intelligence of a goblin. These wolf looking mother fuckers can speak, and pull shit like this. Lure you into thinking someone need help, then bam jaws around your throat. ¡°ARE YOU SHITTING ME!¡± I shout. Another worg lopes out of the woods from the direction of the voice. It pounces on my leg, but I move out of the way, and it only grazes me. I take the opportunity to stab him in the shoulder. Giving the wolf creature a nice slice across the shoulder. The worgs hide is tough though, and the flesh is not so easily cut. I hear some noise from the camp, but no one comes rushing out to help. The first worg, bites down on my leg again frenzied by the taste of blood. The second worg decides to go after my arm that is wielding the knife, I twist out of the way however. He still finds purchase on my elbow. My knife trades hands and I ram the knife into the ear of the one going after my arm. It howls in pain, and lets go of my arm. It stumbles backwards, and growls at me. I hear a shout, and the sounds of a fight starting from the camp. Fan-fucking-tastic. The wolf on my leg goes for another bite, but I lift my leg up and kick it lightly in the mouth. Not hurting it but I don¡¯t take any damage either. The one I stabbed in the ear rakes a claw across my stomach, turning my flesh to ribbons. I cry out in pain. ¡°COULD. REALLY. USE. SOME. HELP. GUYS.¡± I push off the worgs body, and shimmy backwards. Lashing out with a kick towards the farthest one. He snarls and tries to bite me, but can¡¯t get a good angle. I hear Cleric call out my name. A snowball comes rocketing from the camp, and hits the injured worg in the side of the head. It staggers back and forth snow covering its face. The snow melts revealing a dent in the side of it¡¯s head. It collapses unmoving. ¡°Nice!¡± I cheer on the victory then spit up some blood. The skin on my stomach is open, and my intestines are poking through. I hear another shout. And the worg is upon me again. It bites deep into my thigh, and blood gushes from the wound. I let out another pained shout. I hope it didn¡¯t hit an artery. I kick it away again, and back up further from it. It snarls, and bites towards my leg again. It misses however. I hear fighter let out a yell, and then a whining howl. Footsteps rush up behind me, and Cleric crouches down behind me. ¡°It¡¯s alright I¡¯m here everything is going to be fine.¡± She says, although I think that is more for her benefit than mine. Another snowball flys from the camp. It hits the worg snapping at my heels with a large thud. Causing it to howl, and snarl. ¡°KILL KILL KIIIIIIIIILLL" It shouts in a deep gravelly voice. It howls causing the remaining worgs to howl as well. It clamps down on my foot, shakes it¡¯s head back and forth violently. This further aggravates my wounded leg. With my other leg, I kick it in the side of the head. It snarls, and drops my foot. Using it¡¯s long sharp claws to rake my healthy leg. Only doing superficial damage though. ¡°CLERIC,¡± I shout waking her out of her frantic stupor. ¡°Hit the worg very hard, then heal me.¡± She nods her head. ¡°Hit the worg, just hit the worg, hit it yup.¡± Cleric fumbles for her mace, and stumbles towards the worg. Glancing back at me like I¡¯d die at any moment. Which wasn¡¯t far from the truth. She raises the mace, and brings it down towards the worg. It dodges nimbly out of the way, and snarls at her. It¡¯s mouth dripping saliva and blood. I see a bolt of light dart between the trees and move around cover. It sounds like an arrow mid flight, then strikes the worgs flank. Boring a hole into its ribs. The worg stagger back and forth confused, before falling sideways. Cleric rushes over to me, and kneels down. Tears are in the corner of her eyes, and she lets out a choking noise. ¡°You are crying into the wound.¡± I say but get no response. I raise my arm and slap her across the face. ¡°Heal me you little shit.¡± She looks at me shocked. ¡°If I fucking die because you didn¡¯t heal me, I¡¯ll drag my ass out of fucking hell, give Death the finger, and haunt you until the end of time.¡± That seems to wake her up. ¡°Mother mercy, heal your wounded flock and shepherd them into comfort.¡± Cleric recites her prayer, one hand clasped around the holy symbol on her necklace. Her free hand glows with golden light, and my intestines pull themselves back into my stomach, the skin knits back together. My flesh feels like it¡¯s on fire. Like bees are stinging my nerves directly. I let out a scream of pain, and then black out. Chapter 14- Arrival ** Please read the above authors note** I come to some time later. The party has thrown together something similar to what I did for Wizard. It looks like midday now. I can¡¯t get a good, angle to turn and look around. They also propped my neck up at an awkward angle, so it¡¯s sore now. I go to speak but my throat is dry so I just make a hoarse grunting noise. A green head pokes just from out of my range of view over me. Two large bottom incisors poke out of her bottom lip. Her hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail with both sides shaved down to the greenskin underneath. I can see the top of a long tattoo on her neck. ¡°OI,¡± She shouts in a strong voice, that reverbs in my chest. ¡°Dragon slayer over here is up.¡± Her head disappears again, and I hear the shuffling of feet. Guessing she was an orc, but what the fuck is an orc doing here? I see Cleric come into view first. She has a hand sized bruise on the side of her face. Wow I didn¡¯t realize I hit her so hard. She frowns, and gives me an angry glare before storming off. Rogue bends down and unties some ropes. I push off the blanket and sit up. A cool breeze blows onto my midriff the wolves destroyed the front of my clothes. I stand up, and wizard waves her hand. A magical force of energy washes over me, removing dirt, grime, and blood from myself and my clothing. Then she says something in some language I don¡¯t understand, I assume it¡¯s Elven. My clothes knit together, good as new. I look around. The party seemed to have picked up another group of misfits. The orc woman stands at the front, she is taller than me so maybe six foot. She wears a leather bodice, and leather gauntlets that go all the way up to the shoulder. The gauntlets are a rusty colour, and sinister looking, studded with sharp pieces of metal on the knuckles. They fasten into something almost like a short leather shawl that goes over her head and protects her upper back, and neck. She¡¯s well toned, and her muscles are very defined. Not like Fighter, or any of the guards. More like one of those sports illustrated photos. A number of different rings rest on her finger. They are mostly plain bands made of different materials and with different designs. Over the gauntlets on her wrists are two sets of bracers. Made with teeth that look like orc tusks. Behind the woman stands a group of orcs, five men and three women. The women all have that sam kind of shawl that the woman in front does, but all the men except one are bare chested. The last guy much shorter than the others standing at just barely main orc ladies height. While the other guys are almost seven feet tall. Even the orc women are taller at around six and a half feet. All the orcs except the short orc male, and the woman in front are missing their right tusk. I walk up to the orc woman in front, and stick my hand out for a handshake. The other orcs tense up, and the woman raises her eyebrows. She takes it in stride and grins. She shakes my hand firmly. ¡°I¡¯m Jonathan Johnson. It seems that I need to learn more about how to interact with people. I meant no offense.¡± She smiles, but keeps a steady hold on my hand. ¡°I am Thelia. I am a representative sent by the clans to talk to the Dragon slayer.¡± She bends slightly, and pulls me close to her chest. She whispers into my ear. ¡°Rotten tusks between the dwarves and the orcs. Punching the other shoulder is an orc greeting.¡± She pulls back her fist and with a devilish glint in her eye slams it into my shoulder. This motherfucker. I pull back my own fist, and wail her in the shoulder. Her eyes light up. ¡°This one''s got the orc touch.¡± She lets out a hardy laugh, and slaps me on the shoulder with more force than she needed to. I noticing something now though. Only Thelia and the shorter male orc have five fingers, the others have four. Not like they¡¯ve been cut off, just they have no pinky finger. The fingers they do have are thicker than normal. Thelia wraps an arm around my shoulder. ¡°So Dragonslayer, I¡¯ve met your friends, come meet my escort. She points out the largest of the Orcs, ¡°This is Ralak, Yotire, Grun, Kal,¡± She lists the males off in order of height, then moves onto the the females. ¡°Relic, Farley, Sentusa, and finally Thog. He¡¯s still a kid, but the clan wanted him to see the world a little.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. She points out the short Orc last. ¡°It is a pleasure to meet you.¡± I get some grunts in response, my type of people. ¡°You¡¯ve met my students, but I will introduce them again. This is Fighter, Rogue, Cleric, and Wizard.¡± Thelia gives me an odd look. ¡°Why the strange nicknames?¡± She asks. I smile, ¡°It represents their abilities, a classification of how they fight, cast spells, or function in combat. From a mechanics perspective. Like calling a soldier by rank.¡± She nods. ¡°It seems useful, are there more of these classifications?¡± I nod, ¡°Yes, plenty.¡± I grab my Handy Haversack, thinking of one of the character sheets. I reach in, and lift the piece of paper sitting on top of the other gear. I smile, that smile you give when you¡¯ve successfully convinced a friends to watch a show, or play a game. ¡°Here, this is what is known as a stat sheet, or character sheet. You fill out information on yourself, or others into the relevant spots. Good to keep track of yourself, and your abilities.¡± She looks at the sheet, reading it intently. ¡°What an interesting idea, I will bring this idea to the clan.¡± I wave a hand, ¡°Feel free to keep the sheet. We can discuss this more as we walk.¡± We begin the final leg of the journey. We might need to camp out for one more night, but I¡¯m not bothered. I explain the various points on the character sheet to Thelia. ¡°Hmmmm, so how would I know what classification I am.¡± I scratch my stubble for a moment. ¡°Well you can technically have an infinite amount of classification, each one uniquely tailored to the individual. Noting down the subtle differences, gets complex and can come to personality, or how they favor certain actions. So we generalize. A fighter can use a bow, a sword and shield, two scimitars, a whip, a spear, etc. Clerics are gifted powers, through devotion, from their deity. The powers favor healing though. Rogues are often thieves, and assassins. They are nimble and possess a wide variety of skills. Wizards gain magical power through study, and careful implementation of key words, gestures, and components.¡± Thelia nods along. ¡°So I would be a fighter then?¡± She asks. ¡°Well there are more, so tell me a bit about how you fight. Do you sing to empower your allies? Do you channel the magic of your ancestors to cast spells? Do you carefully temper mind, and body through meditation? Does your vision go red, and your temper boil over as you destroy your opponents?¡± I ask her. She nods for a moment. ¡°The last one I guess, many orcs are like that in the clan.¡± I nod. ¡°Well then you are most likely a Barbarian. Warriors who savage their enemies with their unceasing rage. They channel their endless fury to become a force of nature. They possess a sixth sense for danger.¡± I pause for a moment as we walk. ¡°You don¡¯t strike me as a Barbarian however, while clearly you are strong, you carry yourself differently.¡± I gesture behind myself. ¡°Your companions they¡­ lumber for lack of a better term, they would be hard pressed to sneak up on a person. You seem more like a Brawler, carefully tempered fighting style that focuses on close combat fighting, and flowing with the battle.¡± She cocks an eyebrow. ¡°Why do you say that?¡± She asks. I point to her feet. ¡°You¡¯ve barely made a sound as we walk. And what sounds you have made have been at nearly the same time someone else has made a sound. Your shoes also have barely any mud on them, and your cestus are well used.¡± She gives me another once over, as if her initial appraisal of me was wrong. ¡°If you excuse me however I have something to discuss with my compatriots.¡± I bow out of the conversation, and slow my pace to fall in line with Wizard, and Cleric, who still hasn¡¯t spoken to me. ¡°Well Wizard give me your initial appraisal, what do you think of the group?¡± She glances around, and cups a hand to my ear. ¡°Their arrival was strange like they knew where we were. They also made a show of walking down the road towards us, but I noticed that there were some footsteps along the road coming from the forest, out of sight from the camp. And my teacher worked with some orcs some tribes are known to breed worgs.¡± ¡°So you think the fight was a setup?¡± She shakes her head. ¡°To early to say, but it would be a good idea to keep watch of them.¡± ¡°Thank you Wizard. And Cleric watch your step.¡± I kick a foot out, and trip Wizard into a large mud puddle in the road she wasn¡¯t paying attention to as we talked. She lets out a defeated groan as she gets on all fours dripping with mud. She wipes the mud from her eyes, and stands. I see a smile on Clerics face which she quickly turns into a frown when she catches me looking at her. I have no idea what has her so twisted probably something to do with the fight. We walk hurriedly along, and actually make fairly good time despite the road. I talk with Thelia, and she agrees that it would be better to walk the extra hour after dark, to get to an inn instead of spending the night outside the city. Very few people are ambling about, so we draw attention. Light shines through the windows of the Dragons Lair. I push open the tavern door, and inhale the smell of stew and Ale. It feels good to be home. Chapter 15- Scars ¡°So let me get this straight,¡± Damien says. ¡°You arrived back at the dragons cave, which you didn¡¯t tell me you were going to by the way. Retrieved a single scale, before the cave was filled by some ¡®Highly corrosive gas¡¯ that caused you to flee with nothing but the bag on your back. On your way back you were attacked with by a pack of worgs, in which you came within an inch of your life. Woke up greeted a group of orcs, with a dwarven greeting! Then invited the ¡®emissaries¡¯ to come live in the city.¡± I nod, ¡°Yes.¡± Damien lets out an exasperated groan, and throws his hands up. ¡°By Brogirs bushy beard. I feel like I need to leash you like a dog.¡± He gestures to the cells where the goblin is kept. ¡°Well we have a stark decrease in drunks ever since they realized they¡¯d have to spend the night in the drunk tank with the goblin. Plus the green little shit hasn¡¯t tried escaping.¡± I smile, and nod. ¡°Thank you for your wonderful service, I would greatly appreciate if you could purchase some horse sausages, or some cheap horse meat, and get it cooked for Arthur.¡± He winces when I say the name. He whispers to me cupping his hand. ¡°Must you say that name? It¡¯s bad luck. In the capital saying that name in public is 20 lashings.¡± I wave my hand dismissively. ¡°Superstitions, superstitions.¡± Damien lets out a sigh. ¡°I¡¯ve had five grey hairs since your arrival.¡± I pat his hand reassuringly. ¡°That just mean you are getting old. Also would you mind reserving a time where I can train in the courtyard, your guards are free to join, but I doubt they will be enthusiastic to join me.¡± I stand up from Damiens desk and walk out of the guard post. The afternoon sun was warm, and the occasional cloud drifted aimlessly across the sky. It was getting chillier, the week I¡¯d spent here showing in the weather. The harvest was coming in, and people had started to store food away. A salty, and sweet scent was in the air as people pickled, preserved, and jellied various foods. I paused outside a butcher shop, I could hear the sound of a cleaver hitting flesh. The tearing of tendon, muscle, and meat. Food was almost a null factor because of the dragon eye, however I doubt I could live eating just those for my entire life. Canning, and refrigeration were- I cut myself off I have more important things to worry about right now, I have a roof over my head and food in my belly. No need to complicate things, it would be better to give researchers small hints than tell them how to build things. The tavern had been thumping since our return, and Marnies new scale. Since this morning after the rush job that Marnie had paid for last night. She had gotten the scale framed in mithral, using some of her savings. Then hung it from the mantle. It had taken most of the night, but come morning the place was packed. People were looking at the scale, which was free. The drinks however were not. Marnie had made a killing, as people celebrated the death of the dragon, freedom from constant fear, and the new Lord who did it. As I walked in I was immediately noticed. ¡°Cheers fer Milord the dragon slayer.¡± Someone shouted. ¡°AAAAYY.¡± The crowd cheered back, the noise shook the building. Llewellyn didn¡¯t like the noise, so I¡¯d offered to pay Lilies wage to both Marnie, and her to watch him. I was assaulted by frothing mugs, and drunken workers promising me their daughter''s hand in marriage. I respectfully declined. Another round of cheers went up as I took a seat. The carpenters in town had worked together to get a large wooden chair, painted in gold and furnished with animal furs for me to sit on. A barmaid came out with a large serving platter covered in mugs, filled with different drinks. ¡°These¡¯re some o¡¯ the drinks that ¡®ave been bought fer ya. We got another couple o¡¯ trays to bring out.¡± She says, practically shouting for me to hear her. There had to be at least 16 drinks on the tray. I pick up one that looks the least like it¡¯ll kill me, and take a swig. Another round of cheers goes up. My shoulders, and back are going to be bruised by the amount of slaps on the back I¡¯m getting. I see Rogue push his way through the crowd, his hands darting into people''s pockets almost imperceptibly, almost. I see a smallish hand reach out of the crowd, while he fishes for some more coin to dump in his coin pouch. The hand deftly unhooks the pouch, and disappears into the throng of people. Rogue was smart though, and a thin piece of wire tied from his pouch to his belt gives a tug. He reaches through the crowd and grabs the hand of a skinny kid. I flick a gold coin in the air, and rogues ears perk up. He turns to me, holding the boys hand. I gesture for him to come closer to me, with the boy. He walks over dragging the frightened boy to my table. I cup my hand around his ear. ¡°Find out why he is stealing, how many kids like him are around, and where they are located. Keep an eye on this one in the future.¡± He nods, and drags the boy away. People come by, and hand me drinks, and talk with me. The sober ones look at me with respect, the drunk ones look away when they get sick, out of respect of course. I¡¯ve progressed from the pleasant mead at the start to that vile brew Marnie first served me. The dwarves are the ones buying me that. A couple of people bought me spiced wine, which was pleasant. I¡¯ve tried to keep myself hydrated, taking a sip of water to everyone of alcohol. Marnie also cooked up a lovely roast which I got served a plate of. Fighter eventually found his way to my table, and seated himself. He picked up one of the many mugs, and sipped at it. He gave me a nod, but didn¡¯t make conversation. I had no idea what to think of fighter. He seemed off, like he was smart but pretended he wasn¡¯t. Rogue seemed fairly competent, he had either some sort of magical ability that let him be better if he got paid, or was pretty powerful already but would do anything for a gold. Wizard was one of those kids who studied for fun, and would probably have owned and read Encyclopedia Britannica in its entirety. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Cleric was different, she seemed forced into this. Her Geas/Quest played a factor, but it seemed very much that there was more to it. Obviously it hadn¡¯t been to slay the dragon. She almost seemed like someone who wanted to be a Paladin but couldn¡¯t go through with it for whatever reason, and wound up forever a Cleric. Something else was going on however, as she obviously has not healed someone with grievous wounds like I had. Maybe she grew up in a temple, or something similar. I should ask her about the gods shouldn¡¯t I? I scratch my face in thought, and take a sip of the mead in front of me. I am pulled from my thoughts as Cleric loudly, and drunkily, stumbles into a chair. ¡°Wassup.¡± She slurs. She reaches for a full mug, and knocks two over in the process. She grabs the full mug, and puts it to her lips. She tilts her head back, and in a few seconds has finished the drink. ¡°Yaknow yer a dick. A dicky cocky penis.¡± She pauses to chug another drink. She puts the empty mug down, and pokes her finger into my cheek. ¡°Ya make me all mad atchu, then go an do summing like gettin yoursilf injured. An i feel bad an heal you, but-" She pauses. She presses a finger to my lips. ¡°Ssssshhhhh, sshh. Im bout to say a secret. You can''t tell anyone, so sssshhhhh.¡± I nod and she removes the fingers from my lip. I stop her from speaking. ¡°Hey Anise lets-" She proceeds to vomit all over herself, down the front of the clothes she wears under her vestments. ¡°Yeah we are going upstairs Anise, do you know where Cadence is?¡± She is completely oblivious to the vomit. ¡°Ya said my name im soo happy like soooooooo happy. Cadessss was talkin to a guy with a big beard and then they went somewhere. Ya know they say that people with bigbeards are compensaing so he prolaly has a small dick.¡± She overemphasizes the last word. ¡°Yup Anise come on we are going upstairs.¡± I grab her under the arm, and stand her up. I walk her through the crowd, and to the stairs. It takes her a second to maneuver up the first steps, but I help guide her up. I duck into the supply closet and grab a bucket. Cleric stumbles over herself as she tries to navigate to her room. I grab her arm again, and lead her to the door. She fumbles for the key, and misses the socket a couple times. I try to take it from her, but she slaps my hand away. ¡°No, no Im not that drunk. I can do thish.¡± She insists, but it still takes another few tries to get it in. Her room is neat, and tidy. Her travelling gear and arms packed up, and at the foot of the bed. She starts taking her clothes off immediately. I avert my eyes. ¡°Helf help. It shtuck." She calls out. Her vomit covered shirt had gotten stuck over her head. So her arms were raised awkwardly. I walk over, and help her take the shirt off the rest of the way. Underneath she wears a tight fitting, leotard like clothing. It covers all of the skin on her body, and it even buttoned to the thin moleskin gloves she wears constantly. Thinking on it, I hadn¡¯t seen any of her skin besides her upper neck, and face. She covers my eyes. ¡°Sit, eyes closhe. Help maybe after.¡± I turn and sit making a big show to cover my eyes. I hear more ruffling of clothes, and while tempted to peak I wasn¡¯t so weak willed. It goes quiet for a moment, then I hear the floorboards creak. She walks closer to me I think. Two hands strongly push me backwards, onto the bed. ¡°Anise what are you doing?¡± Before I can open my eyes, she places a hand over my face. She mounts me, and exerts much more strength than I thought she had to keep me pinned down. ¡°Ssssshhhhhhh.¡± She says her voice low, and breathy. ¡°Anise stop this right now!¡± I struggle under her grasp. Using my hands to push her backwards. ¡°Stop!¡± She commands the air pulses and an unfamiliar sensation rushes over my skin. Like thousands of tiny insects crawling over me. I can¡¯t move anymore. Struggle as I might, I¡¯m locked in place. I can only breathe, and move my eyes. She removes her hand, to reveal her body in it¡¯s horrific glory. Every inch of her skin is burned, scarred, and marked with evil looking marks, demonic depictions, brands, horrific scenes, and ritual circles. Her skin itself is blue, and blackened in various places, like a corpse. Her eyes tear up. ¡°You saw, you weren¡¯t supposed to see.¡± She chokes out. I look along the base of her neck, and see a faintly glowing collar. The manifestation of her Geas/quest? I can¡¯t say anything locked as I am. She looks into my eyes. ¡°No matter.¡± Her eyes blink like that guy from MIB at the start of the movie. Side to side, not up and down. Her iris turns red, and her pupil dilates. Her sclera turns black, and she looks down at me. I strain against the spell, but can do little. She fumbles with my pants. I push against the effect it can¡¯t last to long. I can feel her touching me. NO THIS WON¡¯T HAPPEN. I push against the effect again. She slides myself into her, with a low moan. She bounces up, and down on my rigid body. I derive no pleasure from this. Straining against the effects of the spell once more. I feel the compulsion begin to weaken. I focus my will on my arm, as she violates me. ¡°Please don¡¯t fight I have to, I have to¡­¡± She whimpers. Her eyes shifting to a frightened girl, for a split second. I falter, and my concentration lapses. I won¡¯t stand idly by again. I feel something break inside myself, like a faucet being turned. The compulsion doesn¡¯t break though. He leans over me, her chest in my face. She places her hands over my shoulders, and grinds up against me. I slam my will again. The spell is starting to weaken. ¡°Please Stop!¡± I feel the spell lapse momentarily but then it¡¯s back at full force. The seconds start to blend together. She is so much stronger than me. Her spell just pushing my will down over and over again. I don¡¯t understand where this came from. I suddenly feel release, and she collapses on top of me sobbing. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± She chokes. ¡°I had to, I had to.¡± I spin around, and pin her under me. ¡°WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!¡± I shout. I was violated. I was seething. I wrap my hands around her throat, and squeeze. Her previous strength is gone and she scratches at my hands and arms. ¡°Puh- puh- lease,¡± She strains. ¡°G-ge-as.¡± I loosen my grip, and she greedily swallows down air. She begins to sob again. Holding her hands to her face. The golden light around her neck, hasn¡¯t disappeared though. ¡°What is your Geas?¡± I get off of her, and pace the room to calm myself. My blood is boiling, and I don¡¯t want to do something I will regret. ¡°I¡¯m an oracle. I was given a geas by my god. To find the prophesized one and sire it¡¯s- your children through any means necessary. And you came through the portal, and, and.¡± She sobs again. My rage at her has abated somewhat, but my fury at whatever god she serves grows further. I pound the wall with my fist. She stands shakily to her feet. I walk to her and grab her by the throat, and lift her off the ground. ¡°WHY NOT TELL ME? I KNOW HOW THESE THINGS WORK! I COULD HAVE HELPED.¡± She kicks her legs out, and struggles in my grip. Choking as I hold her a foot in the air. I¡¯m just so angry. At the gods, at her, at my father, at the world, at my situation, at life, at myself. I hear a cracking noise, and then a blinding light throws me across the room. I shake my head. My vision is blurry, I¡¯ve dented the wooden wall where I was flung backwards. Anise is slumped onto the bed, the geas around her neck is gone. I look at my hand, and see that a pattern similar to the one around her neck has been scorched into my palms. My anger has faded. Leaving behind a pounding headache. ¡°Jeez, what the fuck.¡± I stand up, and walk over to the bed. I give Anise a once over. A bruise is forming on her neck from my hand. I pull lift her up, and pull the blanket up and over her. She was a victim in this as much as I was. Though she could have handled it better. I can only support her now. I sit on the wooden chair in the corner of the room. I¡¯ll deal with the rest of this shit in the morning. I''m so exhausted now. My muscles are tired, and I feel drained mentally. I can add deities to my shit list now. I chuckle, and let the release of sleep overtake me. Chapter 16- Failure I hear something shift, and open my eyes. I yawn, and look at the bed. Cleric is laying down, the blanket pulled up around her. She looks at me. Her face red with shame. ¡°So uh last night¡­¡± She says. ¡°Next time tell me, we saw a dragon for christ sake he could¡¯ve tried something.¡± She just pulls the covers up further. ¡°Is everything else alright?¡± I ask. ¡°Y- Yeah.¡± She says choking a sob. ¡°Do you want to talk about anything. I had to go through years of therapy, I''ve picked up a few exercises to go through.¡± I walk over to the bed, and sit down. I just start talking. ¡°My dad¡­. My dad was a T.V. survivalist. You see on my plane we have conquered the wild, and most people live in giant sprawling cities where they have food and water. So how do you not go crazy? Well we have T.V. it transmits a picture from one location, to another or multiple locations.¡± I pause to think for a moment. ¡°So my dad his job was to go into the middle of the woods or places no one would go because it was to far from civilization, and live there for a while. Well my dad had two friends that went with him, my real parents they were the ones that recorded him. I was born and they left me with some overnight daycare, for a big finale so they could settle down, and take care of me. Something went wrong, they got lost, or some landslide happened and they got cut off from there location. They were trapped in the wilderness. The story my adoptive father told was that they died my mother from an infected wound, and my father from something he shouldn¡¯t have eaten. The bodies were never recovered. I never knew them so it wasn¡¯t a big deal. Their will said that I would be watched over by their best friend my adoptive dad. Well he bought a huge piece of land in the middle of nowhere. He raised, taught me everything I know, and a war broke out. It was only a year or two long, the US ended quickly a well placed nuclear device in europe. People weren¡¯t happy but the preemptive strike ended what could have been world war three.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Millions of people were displaced. So my dad took pity and fostered kids who had no parents. Until he could ¡®get them to new safe homes.¡¯ Most of them were older than me. I was six at the time, but I remember my 13-16 year old brothers and sisters being so cool. There was one little girl, her name was Esmeralda, everyone called her Izzie though. She was my age and my best friend. Well year past and kids came and went in the wake of the disaster. The world was focused on the europe situation, and what America was doing to clean it up. So no one was looking at my father. My father was¡­ Evil in the purest sense of the word. He¡¯d get these kids barely old enough to understand what was going on, heartbroken about their families. He¡¯d feed them, clothe them, and then he¡¯d bring them out to go to new families. What that actually meant was dropping them in the middle of the forest, as he hunted them. Then bring their bodies to a field outpost where he skinned, and dressed their corpses. 327 kids between 13 and 16 years old. Thats how many he killed. 327 kids, he butchered them and then fed the meat to us at the house we lived in. And we loved every bite.¡± I pause to calm myself down. ¡°You- you see Izzie she was my sister. I lo-loved her. I was 14, I never questioned him, she never questioned him. I- we thought the kids that left were going to families, people who would take care of them. It was a week before my 15th birthday my dad said Izzie was going to a family. He,¡± I wipe the tears from my eyes, and clear my throat. ¡°He uh, brought me into the basement on my birthday. It was a big walk in cooler. I had gone hunting with him before, for deer or moose. And we would bring them down here to bleed them and dress them. Well he brought me down, he had booked a nice spa day for the others because he wanted some bindung time with me. He met me at the stairs. And put a hand on my shoulder. ¡®Son I tried hard I tried really hard to make her understand.¡¯ I was confused about what he was talking about. ¡®She didn¡¯t understand what I am, what you are.¡¯ he led me to the back where uh izz where her body was. She was so cold. I just grabbed her hand, and held on. I tried to shake her to wake her up. I was crying sobbing, and he just stood there watching me. ¡®I¡¯m disappointed in you son.¡¯ That¡¯s all he said while I held her cold body in my arms.¡± Anise wraps her arms around me. ¡°I-I lov-loved her. She promised to see me for my birthday. And when I was old enough I was going to buy a house for us. I wanted to marry her. She was my best friend my sister. We talked into the night for hours. And I held her body in in in my hands. I uh got out and got the police in he just watched while I made the call. They found all the bodies, and it was uh it was awful. I was on suicide watch for 4 years, he was smart about the money though. Never touched the funds from my parents or the show, just let it sit, and interest took over. So I would never go hungry. I had all this money, and nothing to spend it on, the person I loved was dead. She was dead.¡± Anise holds me in her arms as I sob. ¡°If you told me I would help.¡± I choke out. ¡°I would, I would.¡± She hugs me a golden light radiating out of her body and into mine. Some spell probably. But I don¡¯t care. I had failed Izzy, I wouldn¡¯t let myself fail Anise now either. I grab her body tight feeling the scars in my hand, and her skin that is too cold. My eyes blaze with fury ¡°Now tell me all about your god.¡± Chapter 17- Gods of a feather Anise lets go of me, her face is still red. She wipes the tears from her face. ¡°My god is more like half a god." She says. ¡°Twenty or Thirty thousand years ago, and following the first war of man. Psymon the god of knowledge came upon a dilemma. He was a god of all knowledge, and was known as the revealer of secrets due to the fact that he was known for consistently doing just that. He believed that knowledge was to be shared throughout all peoples. However the first war of man shook his core. He had seen the knowledge that the races had cultivated, and studied suddenly used aggressively against each other. His internal conflict was so great, that he split into two parts. Helon a god who believed all knowledge should be shared equally, and that the morality of the user should curb the use of such things. Her counterpart was Volen, a malicious god who hoards knowledge, and secrets to his own benefit. Using any means necessary to grow in power. While Helons scholars shared and embraced magic and technology, becoming a patron god of wizards, and advancement. The cult of Volen seduced those in position of influence with the promise of even greater power, blackmailed librarians, and practiced profane rituals. Thousands of years pass, Volen has long since left the council of gods, and his followers are long gone. All think him dead, suddenly a fire breaks out in the citadel of infinite knowledge. The magical enchantments that are meant to protect the books, are consumed by the flame fueling it further. Assassins kill Helons greatest, and most knowledgeable clerics, grand archmages, and even a few of Helons host of angels. Helon taking this as a declaration of war ordered her followers to strike back at Volen. What followed is known as war of the libraries. Volen was crafty however, and he had spent the years since his disappearance growing in power. Hiding his weaknesses with subterfuge. Helon was furious, Volen was nowhere to be found, and not a single scrap of knowledge on him anywhere. Any tome on him was uselessly outdated, or contained falsified information. Helon ordered her second in command, a deity and former angel named Honesty to curse all creatures to only speak the truth. In retaliation Volen sent a beast of his own creation called Silence to kill Honesty. Silence was made of the bodies of dead gods, and angels from the first war of man. Honesty was slain with a swift hand, and Helon wept in return. Where Honesty fell from the heavens became the land of truth where no one may speak a lie. Helons tears touched Silence, granting it sentience. Silence looked at the carnage in it¡¯s wake and in shame vanished. Volen was not idle, and during the funerary rights for Honesty he personally wounded Helon. Using a dagger carved from the bone of a god he struck her in the back. She was expecting some form of attack and mortally wounded him. On his deathbed he used the magical items, and his knowledge to become undead, the first lich. That served to only twist his personality further. Ever since Helon and Volen have been at war. While the war of the libraries is over they still ¡°skirmish¡±. While Helon had a large number of followers, Volens followers are almost five to one in terms of power.¡± Anise pauses for a moment. ¡°Then there are the Red order, the Grey cross, and the Cult of Psy. The Red order is a branch of Helon that pursues knowledge at any cost, and then subtly shares their results so they are not found out. The Grey cross is a group of defectors from Volen, that hoard secrets they deem to evil, or powerful for people to know. Finally the Cult of Psy, they want to unite the Volen, and Helon back into Psymon.¡± She rubs a mark on her arm. An eye, with the lids stretched open. ¡°The Red order abducted my mom. They were trying some ritual, I think to try, and make a lich. Well my mom was pregnant with me at the time. The poison they pumped into her killed me in her womb, but my body continued to grow. When she finally died, I came out crying. They took to carving symbols in me, believing me to be an incarnation of Velon. Both dead and alive. I don¡¯t even heal from positive energy, just negative like an undead.¡± She smiles sadly tears in her eyes. ¡°I guess they were kinda right, he has always been in my head. Telling me what to do, pushing me further and further. The Geas/Quest was the first time he did something forcefully exerting his will on me.¡± I stroke her head. ¡°You''re not alone.¡± It¡¯s still night out. ¡°Get some rest, I¡¯ll watch over you. Us broken things have to stick together.¡± She smiles weakly, and grabs my hand. ¡°Thanks,¡± Anise whispers. I give her a smile. I blow out the candle, and roll out a blanket. I sit down, and begin to focus. I hadn¡¯t had time to do this while on the road. That blank space, it was a hint. Something Waylax was telling me to do. I just knew it. It not so many words, but¡­ I centered myself, and grabbed at the space. Trying to feel it around me. It continued to slip through my fingers, briefly flickering behind my closed eyes. I focused on the feel of the room around me, how had it changed when I went to the white room. I felt the hairs on my spine crawl up my back, and all my hair stood on end. A low ringing went through my ears. It felt wrong being here the air, the ground, even the voices it all felt wrong. Was that it? I was somewhere else, not my home world or plane. The space was different. I had felt oddly uneasy since I first came here. Was this the reason, I wasn¡¯t on my home plane? Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. I focused on that feeling of unease, forcing myself to feel it more, and more. Suddenly I no longer felt it. I could no longer focus on that feeling anymore. The white room had felt¡­. The opposite, like I was safe. Sitting at home, and just nodding off. Warm and fuzzy, like after a good meal when you get drowsy. I tapped into that warm feeling. I felt an immediate response my heart beat slowed, my muscles relaxed, and I unconsciously released a breath I hadn¡¯t known I was holding. My eyelids flutter open, and I find myself sitting in that white space once more. Alone now however. I didn¡¯t know exactly why I needed to come here, but I did. I stand up, and look around. I¡¯ve done it I guess, not sure exactly what I¡¯m supposed to do now. ¡°Go web!¡± I shout hoping for something to happen. ¡°Shazam, abracadabra, open sesame, make my monster grow, let it rip, Plus Ultra, excelsior, Pikachu I choose you, I bless the rains down in Africa, it was me DIO.¡± Nothing happens. I stomp my foot in frustration. Something had to work, was this even magic though? Maybe I was Psionic. I press my fingers to my temple, and concentrate. Trying to feel some invisible force. I just wind up making myself light headed. I let out the breath I¡¯d been holding, and breathe heavily. No Psion for me then. I wouldn¡¯t bring myself so low to start cultivating so I was at an impasse. I didn¡¯t want to devote myself to any gods, or devils right now so cleric was out. I wasn¡¯t edgy enough to be a warlock, despite my tragic backstory. Bard had potential but I wasn¡¯t slutty, or roguish enough for that. ¡°Hey uhh look like you need some help.¡± I spin around to the voice. A large insectile headed creature looked at me. It wears a dark blue corduroy suit, and a bow tie. Fedora is placed haphazardly on it¡¯s head. It picked something from between it¡¯s large mandibles and flicked it with a dull metallic hand. ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡± The thing lifts it¡¯s other hand, in surprise and points a long tentacle wreathed in shadow at itself. ¡°Huh me? Oh I¡¯m just the guy who has made sure nobody has ascended to godhood (or demi-godhood) for the last couple thousand years. You looked like you needed some help, not often dragons can get to soul space so quickly.¡± He looks around using a third hand made of vines and leaves to scratch where his chin would be. ¡°It¡¯s pretty big too. Anyway¡­ like I said you looked like you needed help.¡± A large spider abdomen. extends from the back of its suit, and it reclines backwards. Four arms extend from holes that cover the back end of the abdomen haphazardly, it pulls a piece of thread from it¡¯s spinneret and begins weaving. ¡°You never answered my question. Who are you, like a name.¡± I reply, crossing my arms. ¡°Well if you said my name I would disappear wouldn¡¯t I.¡± It pulls back it¡¯s mandibles in what I assume is a smile. ¡°You¡¯re a smart lad you¡¯ll figure it out of that I¡¯m sure. Now about that help¡­ Before I can give it I need a small favor.¡± He raises his metallic hand, and puts his pointer and thumb very slightly apart. I let out a sigh. ¡°It¡¯s nothing you wouldn¡¯t do anyway, but transactions deity to mortal, even a dragon, need some form of exchange. Them''s the rules, ain¡¯t nothing I can do about it.¡± He finishes weaving a large sack that ripples with rainbow hues. A fifth hand emerges from one of the holes, and up ends a slightly smaller bag. Tiny white balls fall, into the large sack. ¡°So,¡± I say. ¡°What do you want mysterious chaotic deity?¡± He folds his hands together. ¡°Well I have a vested interest in your friend Cleric, I had to pull in a number of favors with various fate altering deities to make sure that the little event you had came to fruition. Now, now before you go all murder happy on me, if that event does not happen in 89% of futures she becomes an arch-lich who wipes out civilization, and conquers 39 different planes before I can intercede during her ascension to godhood and kill her. In 10.9 repeating % of futures she dies within 10 years with no lasting effects personally but another war in the heavens starts. And the last <.1% she hangs herself within the month. So I just need your word you will look after her and train her, that¡¯s it, I promise. No Geas/Quest or anything just your word.¡± He shakes the last few white balls from the small bag out, and stitches the now full shimmering bag closed. He tosses the beanbag towards me. ¡°Here should be a bit more homey now.¡± The bag is going much faster, and with more power than he thinks, and it impacts my face with great force. I fall backwards and hit the floor. ¡°Ow,¡± I say I rub the back of my head in pain. ¡°Ah whoops I forget how soft you mortals are.¡± The bean bag wraps around me, and then squeezes between me and the floor. Adjusting itself to a perfect amount of comfort, but not enough to get sleepy. The god slayer looks at me expectantly. ¡°Fine you have my word.¡± I feel a pulse, a throb in my chest. ¡°Wonderful, now let me help.¡± Many arms at least 30 pop out of it¡¯s back. It¡¯s form shifts, the corduroy suit vanishing, and it becomes much more insectile. Like a praying mantis with the abdomen of a spider. The hands begin to weave pulling light from thin air, and creating a large butterfly net by the looks of it. ¡°You have not lived with magic, so you don¡¯t know how it feels. It would take a decade or more for you to be able to use your powers. Maybe if you were of an exceptional talent you could use them in less time, but your proficiency is lower than average. That means we have to cheat. We are on a time crunch afterall. You¡¯ll feel slight pressure.¡± The many arms extend, they quickly lose their skin, becoming pillars of muscle and bone, protruding from its back. The woven light in its hands encircles me. I feel pressure along my hole body, and nothing more. Something in my chest begins to build that faucet I felt previously. It starts with my extremities. Some liquid filling them up slowly. Until it reaches the top of my head where it stops. Energy like lightning in my fingertips, and fire in my blood. I breathe out a freezing wind, and my sweat sizzles with acid. ¡°Now you should be extremely careful. Normally children with magical bloodlines have years to grow into them. However you have unlocked yours overnight, and sorcerers aren¡¯t known to be the most stable of beings. That doesn¡¯t even count the fact you have a deeper knowledge of physics, than most wizards. Metamagic will likely come as a second nature.¡± One of the hands pats me on the shoulder, ¡°Now go get ¡®em.¡± I revel in the new power, but the feeling fades. ¡°Will do Frankenstein.¡± I say. ¡°Frankenstein was the doctor not the monster.¡± It replies. ¡°No I''m pretty sure Frankenstein was the monster." It chuckles. ¡°Indeed, indeed. Now you¡¯ve been a good sport so I suppose that I can at least, give you a hint. I¡¯m so fragile if you say my name I will disappear. What am I?¡± His abdomen retracts, and the arms vanish revealing the insectoid head, and blue corduroy suit. He puts a finger to his mandibles. He disappears in the blink of an eye. I lay back in the chair, and close my eyes. That mother fucker. Light hits my eyelids and I open them. Dawn is breaking outside casting rays into the room. Time to get my shit together. Chapter 18- Stumbling I walked down the stairs with a headache. Anise following behind me. Wizard raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but said nothing. I wasn¡¯t bothered. I don¡¯t think bloody maries were a thing, but I¡¯ll try. I scribbled out a recipe on a piece of paper. And handed it to one of the barmaids as she walked past. ¡°Two please.¡± She nodded and hurried into the kitchen. ¡°We are going to do some training today, we¡¯ll break for lunch. And then Cleric and I have some stuff to do.¡± Lily comes out with the little whelp in her hands. He is chewing on a piece of wood with nails tacked into it. Llewellyn seems to have curbed his appetite. Just idly chewing instead of outright devouring everything. Lily tucked him into my arms. I looked into Llewellyns eyes, and felt that strange faucet feeling again. Raise your claws I said into my mind. The little dragon tilted it¡¯s head for a second looking at me. Hmmmm, maybe¡­ I thought the act of raising my arms, flexing the muscle like exercising the muscles in my mind. Llewellyn lifted his arms. Then I thought about singing, Don¡¯t stop believing, specifically. Llewellyn tilts his head, and furrows his brow. He makes a noise like he is trying to clear his throat. Then opens his mouth. Everyone stares at the little dragon. He proceeds to make the most horrendous noise I¡¯ve ever heard. Like 1000 of nails scraping chalkboards, tires screeching, babies wailing. I clasp my hands over my ears. All at once the noise stops. I look around, and notice all noise has stopped. The other people in the room look around lifting their hands from their ears. Some energy pulses from Anises hands, bathing a 40 foot area in silence. I quickly order Llewellyn to stop. He looks both pleased with himself, and intrigued about the silence. I nod thanks to her, and she drops the spell. ¡°BROGIRS BUSHY BEARD, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!¡± Marnie shouted. Everyone looks at Llewellyn, and then at me. ¡°Why am I the one that everyone blames? I mean it was my fault but really?¡± I let out an exasperated sigh. ¡°I tried to get Llewellyn to sing.¡± ¡°I¡¯d rather listen to cats being flayed alive than that sound ever again.¡± Marnie says. ¡°Well I¡¯m not gonna ask Llewellyn to sing anymore now, am I?¡± I retort. Marnie lets out a sigh. ¡°As long as it doesn¡¯t happen again.¡± I sit back down, and watch as the orcs walk down stairs their sleep interrupted by the noise. The kid what was his name Thock? Thod? Thog, that was it, lets out a yawn. One of the guys Ralic, I think says something in what I assume is orcish. A weird mix of harsh letters, and grunting or snorting. He gives Thog a nuggy and the guys laugh, the women letting out a giggle. Thog says something back, and gives Ralic a playful shove, a smile on his lips. Thelia grabs a nearby chair, and whips it around to the table. She straddles the back of it and picks some hash off my plate. ¡°Drania above what was that noise?¡± Thelia asks. I chuckle sheepishly. ¡°Sorry, I tried to see if the little whelp could sing.¡± I playfully rough house with Llewellyns belly. He curls up, and grabs his feet in his claws, and rocks back and forth. ¡°What is it a Psuedo-dragon? Or a baby drake? I¡¯ve never seen one with scales this green.¡± Thelia reaches out a hand to touch him, and he grabs one of her fingers, and suckles on it. ¡°No,¡± I reply. ¡°He is a baby dragon. His name is Llewellyn.¡± Thelia nods, and then whips her head around her body seems to ripple with muscles, getting ready to strike. Llewellyn, seeming to sense the electricity, looks at Thelia with wide eyes, and let out a mix between a coo and a purr. I toss a piece of meat towards Llewellyn, and without breaking eye contact with Thelia he tilts his head and grabs it out of the air. ¡°He is young yet no need to get all tense around the whelp.¡± I tell Thelia, she nods. Relaxing slightly, but keeping an eye on the dragon the whole time. I notice that the other orcs keep their weapons in arms reach. They crowd around a nearby table. I nudge my plate a little closer to Thelia. The other orcs seem to be doing the same thing she does. Ordering a plate of their own food, but picking off the others plates without batting an eye. ¡°We are going to do some training today, you are welcome to come join.¡± I smile, and give a nod of thanks to one of the barmaids who brings out the bloody marys. It could be a little spicier, but is good nevertheless. Cleric seems to like it, and sips at hers while she eats. ¡°Training for what?¡± Thelia asks, she takes a sip of from her mug giving her a foamy mustache. ¡°Just training stuff people do back home. Keeps you strong, fit, and healthy. Suicides, calisthenics, push ups, that sort of thing.¡± She gives me an odd look. ¡°No sword swinging, or combat? Then what''s the point?¡± She replies. ¡°Well to work on things you normally wouldn¡¯t do in a regular day of combat. A person who wields a Claymore might spend the day practicing dexterity, and finesse. While someone who uses a rapier might lift heavy weights so their weapon feels like a feather in their hand.¡± She nods thinking. ¡°I could see the merit in that.¡± I smile at her. ¡°Even if you don¡¯t participate you should come along. You can see it at least.¡± I step away from the table, and head upstairs. I change into some shirts, and a T-shirt. I head back down stairs. ¡°You ready to set out?¡± I get weird stares. I look at my shirt, a stylized image of Tiamat, from D&D. The five headed evil dragon queen.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°Well this is a little awkward,¡± I say, with a nervous chuckle. Thelia bursts into laughter. ¡°Only a dragon slayer would wear the image of the dragon god.¡± Too late to change now. ¡°Well we better get ready, the walk over will give our stomachs some time to rest.¡± The party didn¡¯t need their packs so they left them in their rooms, and I lead the group and the orcs to the courtyard outside of the constabulary. I get odd looks the entire way their, but I ignore them. Some people come up to me, and give me trinkets, or clasp my hands with misty eyes. Most of it is small goods flower crowns enchanted to no wilt, loaves of hard bread in sturdy wicker baskets, and poorly carved dragon skulls. Most of the time it¡¯s children who hand me these things. Their parents wait smiling as they watch them hand me the souvenirs. I smile and thank them, nodding to the parents. A kid dirtier than the others darts out of an alley, at first glance I think they are a boy, since they have short hair. The soft faced, and scrawny girl holds up some rocks. Her dirty hands are nicked with fresh cuts, and old scabs. The rocks are smooth river stones, the rocks are pretty with coloured bands of different minerals. I look her parents, and see a couple of other scrawny kids standing in the alley she came from. I smile and take the rocks but hold her hand. She looks at me a little frightened. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can accept these pretty rocks for free.¡± I say, tapping a finger to my chin. ¡°Aha! Can I trade you some of this bread for them?¡± She glances back at the alley, and then nods her head a smile on her face. I kneel down a little, and peel back the cloth wrapping so she can reach in and grab some of the loaves. She touches one of the warm loaves in surprise, and then quickly grabs 3 of the 8 and runs back with a smile on her face. She gives me a wave, and disappears into the alley. ¡°The dragon slayer has a heart too.¡± Thelia says, a playful smirk on her face. I wave a hand. ¡°Yeah yeah joke all you want.¡± One of the male orcs says something, and Thelia replies. He begins another sentence, but Thelia snaps at him and cuts him off. I ignore the exchange. ¡°Thelia,¡± I ask. ¡°I¡¯m unfamiliar with orc customs, is there anything else i should be mindful of? I grew up a long way from here, and only around humans. We had stories, and myths but many were embellished, and likely untrue, so feel free to correct me if I speak out of turn.¡± Thelia raises her eyebrows in mild surprise. ¡°So where are you from? If you don¡¯t mind me asking.¡± I smile, ¡°Somewhere past Avalon abouts.¡± That causes her to stumble a bit but she rights herself. I chuckle to myself that won¡¯t get old. ¡°Yes that is quite far away.¡± Thelia says regaining her composure. ¡°Not many people would share something like that. I suppose a Dragon slayer isn¡¯t like other people though.¡± I smile, ¡°No I suppose not.¡± The training yard was connected to the constabulary, but gated off. High walls that were dotted with nooks for archers to fire, lined the top of the wall. A portcullis made of criss cross steel sheets bolted together was opened. The yard was empty, and quite. With the threat of a dragon gone our town would be more open to riads so I would likely have to conscript new guards men. Optimally however we could rest on our laurels, and have sheer strength, and reputation ward off all but the most dire of threats. That meant permanent palisades around the town, and perhaps a number of wizard types. A few dummies, which were just straw filled shirts on wooden poles stood to one side. They had shields and swords lifted in various defensive positions. Some targets for archers, and a large what looked like cannon pointed downwards. The ground was covered in soot beneath it. I knocked on the door to the constabulary, Damien comes out with an older looking fellow. His face is shaved clean, but pock marked with scars. His hair salt and peppered. ¡°Oh Jon, I¡¯ve seen you brought your orcish friends, to the training grounds, in the constabulary, wonderful. This is Sue he is our Armourer, and fletcher. He will show you wear the training gear is stored, and make sure it all gets returned to its proper place.¡± Damien says. ¡°Aye,¡± Sue adds. ¡°About my small friend.¡± I nod past Damien. ¡°Yes, yes you can get the runt.¡± Sue and I step past each other. He heads to the weapons shed, and I to the cells. In the back corner of the cell is the huddled mass of Arthur. Some half-filled food bowls, and a gross looking chamber pot sit in the opposite corner. I unlock the cell, and Arthur''s head swivels up to look at me. He winces when he looks at me. ¡°Come little one our work begins.¡± I say, and stand beside the cell door. He stands shakily to his feet, and stumbles forward. He seems thinner than before. He will learn to eat more, to finish his meals. I lead him through the constabulary. He looks at the guards as we walk past, with wide frightened eyes. We step into the courtyard. One of the orcs elbows Thelia who isn¡¯t looking, and points over. Her eyes widen, and she walks over. ¡°Didn¡¯t expect you to consort with Goblins.¡± She says, her eyes seem to pierce the goblin. ¡°Consider this an experiment, testing the limits of a goblin." Thelia nods. ¡°Will this be a problem?¡± I ask her. She shakes her head. ¡°No, no it won''t be. You just get stranger, and stranger.¡± I scratch my chin. ¡°Yes I suppose so.¡± I step into the field, and take a look around. Fighter uses a short sword, and a shield made of wood, and weighted with metal rings. Beating back an invisible opponent as he moves through forms. Wizard has started to study her book, away from most people. She carefully measures out materials, and her hands flash with fire, and electricity, as she corrects mathemagical equations. Rogue is juggling his daggers, and Anise lifts a wooden club, and swings it downward onto a dummies shield. I look at Arthur he should be proficient with sword, and daggers. I''m debating whether he should have a freehand, or not. Dirty Fighting would be the best form for him to learn. I put my fingers to my lips, and whistle. Everyone turns to look at me. I gesture for them to come closer. They walk swiftly across the grounds. ¡°Alright we are going to start off today with some running. Let''s do 5 laps around the courtyard.¡± I say. The training yard was about a basketball court and a half long, and twice as wide. I drew a line in the dirt at the midpoint of the outside. ¡°Follow along the wall, and pace yourselves. 3. 2. 1.¡± And I take off with them in tow. Arthur, and Rogue took to it like fish to water, and maintained a steady but fast pace. Fighter, I, and Thelia kept around the same pace as each other. Wizard was winded before the second lap was over. All of the orcs and Anise lagged but kept steady. Arthur finished first, Rogue began to tire about halfway through, and slowed to a jog. Arthur however maintained his fast pace the entire time. A slightly scared look on his face. Rogue came in third after Thelia, who began to increase her pace, ending in a dead sprint. Fighter finished next followed by me, Anise, the orcs, and Wizard last. Wizards face was beat read, and she sucked in air like it was going out of style. I immediately moved into stretches, which the others followed somewhat reluctantly. I coached the orcs during pushups, the burning sensation seemed to be something they enjoyed, and was a sign of prowess, I learned. I demonstrated a few other exercises, like sit ups, squats, burpees. They started a competition on who could do the most and I lost them there. I mean of course the orcs are muscle heads. It shouldn¡¯t have been a surprise considering they all had the physique of Olympic bodybuilders. I shouldn¡¯t bring that up to them should I. I felt kinda bad for Wizard who laboured after everyone else but appreciated her effort. While doing pushups I explained the burning sensation she felt in her muscles. She got lost in questions with me about different muscle groups, and was done before she knew it. Rogue, Fighter, and Anise were fairly proficient and worked through the sets at a good pace. Helping each other out, and rotating. I oversaw Arthurs exercise, which he did well for his awkward body shape. After the warm up I moved onto the meat of the training. ¡°Wizard you must learn how to cast spells with no materials. Obviously some stuff with costly components is different, but the egg shells and feathers you use, shouldn¡¯t be necessary. Fighter continue what you were doing moving through the forms of sword and shield. Slowly increase the weight of the practice sword, and shield. Rogue I want you to spar with the Arthur, actually Wizard cast prestidigitation on him to clean him up, then spar with him Rogue. He should train with daggers, and to fight dirty. Throw sand in his eyes, kick his groin, etc. Cleric you should continue your faux spar as well. We will have our private training together. I am going to sit and temper myself somewhat I trust you all to make wise decisions, so don¡¯t bother me.¡± With that I sit down in the shade. I plug my earbuds in and play some instrumental music, Berceuse In D Flat, OP.57. I sit comfortably with my legs crossed and my hands on my lap. My solar charger basking in the sun, and charging my phone. I close my eyes, and enter the white space. Chapter 19- Thunderstruck I was alone again. The white space was barren besides the semi-sentient bean bag chair, which rolled towards me. I wonder what this place was. A manifestation of my soul, a separate plane, or some part of my mind. I flopped onto the chair, which coiled around, propping up exactly the right spots to maintain focus, but still be comfortable. I was a sorcerer that much was certain. They suffered from a distinct lack of variety in spells, however the ability to muster them from their own body was nothing to scoff at. I meditated my most useful weapon would be to determine exactly what dragons bloodline I shared. And boy there were a lot. Gold dragons that breathe fire, Blue dragons that breathe electricity, Nightmare dragons that breathe acid, Forest dragons that pierce your skin with razor tipped leaves, Ethereal dragons that crushed you with their voice, and many more. Red dragons were the most iconic, followed only by gold. Their had to be someway to manifest this. I tapped into the well of energy within me. It was like a dropper outside, but in here it felt like an ocean. I was filled with this energy, but all my attempts were fruitless. I couldn¡¯t just will it out of my hands. Perhaps¡­ Dragons were most known for breathing their respective element. I part my lips, and suddenly feel pressure rise in my chest. Like a bubble ready to burst. I hear a crackling noise like static in my ears, and my hairs stand on end. With a clap, a bolt of lightning flies from my mouth. As quickly as it comes it''s gone. Leaving my ears ringing, and vision swimming. The force sends me flying backwards, and I tumble end over end. The bean bag has latched itself onto me, and catches my fall. ¡°Jesus christ.¡± So electricity it is then. That¡¯s blue dragons, or copper? No, bronze. If I remember correctly, but things might be different. I feel less now, as if part of me disappeared with that bolt. I don¡¯t attempted that again. I focus once more on that energy, how had it felt. Like it was rushing to get out almost. It¡¯s gas like the energy spreading out to fit every corner of my being down to each tip of hair. There was less now so it was more subdued but still frantic almost. Like a tide pushing water, the shake of an earthquake, the crackle of static on a woolen sweater, and the heat of a flame as it licks at wood. The feeling was hard to describe. I let it roll over me that frenzied energy, seeping out of everyone of my pores. Lightning dances on my skin, arcing between hairs but never damaging myself. The feeling inside lessens some more. I channel more, and more power out. The area heats up quickly, and the clean smell of ozone fills the air. I feel my inside lessen fast, and great bolts arc out striking the ground around me. I feel like a tesla coil. I attempt to ¡®grab¡¯ at the lightning. Channeling into a singular bolt. That proves troublesome however. It slips out of my hands more often than not. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. I try again instead of spreading it throughout my entire body, I channel it towards my palm. The lightning on my skin petering out as it focuses down. I don¡¯t have such a fine tune as the best I can manage is getting the electricity to my right shoulder. This is fine for now though. I decide to call it there. I needed to take baby steps, and my energy is nearly out. I can feel it flickering weakly. I open my eyes, Debussy was playing now, Claire de Lune. Time has passed, and quickly, much quicker than what was spent in the white space. Sue is fletching some arrows, keeping a stray eye on Arthur. I walk over to Sue. A polished composite shortbow, rests on a rack unstrung. I gesture to it, ¡°Do you mind if I¡­¡± He gives me an affirming grunt. I lift up the wooden bow and string it. I take a handful of arrows, and a quiver and string it to my waist. I stand before the closest target, 50 feet away. I test the bow, this has quite the draw strength, but I''m used to it falling back into old habits. I lift an arrow, and knock it. I pull the string back, this bow is much stronger than I thought. I pull harder though, eventually the string is near my cheek. I release and the arrows flies, it misses the target by about 5 feet and I hear a chuckle. I ready myself again, ignoring the laugh. I knock the arrow once more, and pull back. My arms strain, but I stay firm. When the string is pulled back, I steady my breathing. I release and the arrow strikes the third ring from the center. Without hesitation I draw another arrow, and knock it pulling the bow string back, and steadying myself. I release and the arrow flies closer this time slightly above the center and to the right. Another, too far to the left, then just below. Soon I¡¯m out of arrows, the target is peppered with them. Three are dead center, of the other 12 only the first one is not on the target. The rest are close if not adjacent to the center. I let out a large breath, and walk down range to collect the arrows, no one else was shooting so I didn¡¯t bother with formality of looking across the range. With the arrows secured, I made my way back to the shooting line. I go for the next increment, 60 feet. The first arrow just barely catches the edge of the target, but none miss this time. I fire all of my arrows, only two hit the bullseye this time however. I have a better grouping though so I¡¯m fine with it. After retrieving my arrows I head to the next range increment 70 feet. This was about the limit that the bow would give me. I pull the string back, and focus. On release I follow the arrow all the way, the release of the string, the energy behind the arrow, the soft twang of the bow, it whistles through the air. And hits the target. I was slow about it this time, taking my time to hit the target. The second arrow I follow the same pattern slightly lower, and to the right. The second arrow hits, to far down and not far enough right. I feel through the second one again. Keeping the bow pulled back for a few seconds while I adjust my aim. The arrows slowly get closer and closer to the bullseye, as I focus. Suddenly for a split second, before I release, I¡¯m in that white space, and the remaining energy bubbles up. I blink and release the arrow. The arrow screeches as it flies, rending the air apart. Smoke curls from the bow. Ozone fills the air, and when the arrow hits a clap of thunder echoes through the air as if lightning had just struck. The target is smoldering ruins that fall from the sky onto us. The bow string snaps burnt in the middle. Damien comes sprinting out. ¡°WHAT IN THE FUCK WAS THAT?¡± He screams, I shrug. I didn¡¯t know what happened either. Chapter 20- Baby steps Chips of wood, and smoldering pieces of straw fall from the sky. Everyone is just blinking, dazed and a little confused. ¡°WELL?¡± Damien shouts again, pointedly looking at me. A fragment of wood bounces off his head. ¡°Well it was magic, except accidental.¡± I reply. ¡°Your a bloodmage then, a sorcerer?¡± Thelia asks. I puff out my chest in mock bravado. ¡°Since the day I came into this world. I got the blood of dragons in my veins.¡± Neither of these were a lie just twisting the truth a little, I guess. Thelia raises her eyebrows. It was a tick of hers I guess. I filed it away for later. ¡°Why do you have to make everything even more difficult? Looks like I¡¯ll be pulling another all nighter to get paperwork handled.¡± I look around confused. ¡°Wait what''s wrong, foreigner remember.¡± I say. ¡°Dragon blood is a mark of Royalty, you can get it by slaying a dragon and then consuming it¡¯s heart or be born with it, like yourself.¡± Fighter replies. ¡°Ah, so that means¡­¡± I trail off. ¡°The heads of the family are going to set you up with political marriages, but considering how you have slain a dragon, might just engage you to the branch families eldest unmarried daughter. Making you the next king. Or atleast have a chance for the thrown.¡± Damien, and Fighter both pale, when Thelia says that. ¡°Big sister¡± ¡°Claire¡± They same at the same time. Damien swoons, and nearly topples over. Flags were going off in my head like nobody''s business. Fighter props himself up on the wooden sword he was using. ¡°She can¡¯t be that bad.¡± I say. Fighter glares at me. ¡°If my elder sister could use her sword as well as she used her tongue, that dragon would be mince meat.¡± Fighter replies. ¡°Your exaggerating.¡± ¡°She is the head of my family because she backed my mother and father into a corner politically and threw a coup. She has made at least three heads of houses cry in public. Whatever you think of her she is worse.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not totally devoid of protection though.¡± I reply. ¡°I have some tricks up my sleeve I can use. Besides I think now is an excellent time to end todays training. Damien could you begin a small voluntary draft. I want a battalion of soldiers who can work together effectively, to train in shield wall formations, with spears. Most of the battalion should be polearm and shield. At Least one squad of archers for every three melee, and a squad of magic casters, that can cast in leather armor, two if possible.¡± He nods, but I don¡¯t think he has absorbed the information. ¡°The rest of you head back to the Inn I have some training to go over with Cleric. Damien see that Arthur returns to his room.¡± Damien feigns a smile, and Arthur trudges into the constabulary. The door swings shut behind him. ¡°Well I¡¯ll get some of the young fellers to clean up the mess. Some mighty fine shootin¡¯ that was Blooded One.¡± Sue bows reverently, and takes his leave. ¡°Well you heard me,¡± I say. ¡°Go wander around town, or go to the Inn. Actually Fighter, and Rogue go pick up the gear I ordered from the smith. Go see of the sled is ready as well.¡±Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. I get an affirmation, and they walk off. ¡°Can we observe your training with your Cleric?¡± Thelia asks. I shake my head. ¡°A higher power has tasked me with assisting and training Cleric due to some unique circumstances. This involves techniques from my home, that are secret. If given permission I am allowed to share them you will be the first one I tell, of that you have my word.¡± I tell Thelia. She gives me a dubious look, ¡°Very well then, we¡¯ll return to the Inn then.¡± I smile, and wave them goodbye. I grab Anise by the hand. ¡°We have work to do, and a benefactor would prefer you not be harmless.¡± I tell her, she gives me an odd look, but follows me. We walk out of the constabulary through the town, and out into the woods. I walk for another 15 or 20 minutes until we are a good ways away, and in the direction of the mountain. I stop near a small copse of trees, that create a natural shelter. I pull her inside. ¡°Alright, you are an oracle of Velon correct? Well what do you know, what abilities do you have?¡± I ask her. Anise¡¯s face goes red and she stutters, ¡°W-well I can¡­ um. Animate animals, and people. I can raise undead although they are weak, and not many at once.¡± I clap my hands together, ¡°Excellent you have a better grasp on your powers than I thought. This is something we can build off of.¡± She gives me a shocked look, ¡°You aren¡¯t frightened? Disgusted? Shocked?¡± I smile at her. ¡°HAH! You don¡¯t even understand the amount of edgy people you could find in my world who wished they could do what you do, not that they could stomach something like it, but they would want the ability all the same.¡± She looks surprised, then her cheeks heat up. I sit down on the soft earth moist from the days of rain. ¡°Come sit next to me.¡± I pat the ground, she walks over and cross her legs beside me. ¡°Do you know where Zombies come from in my home, or at least the legend of them? A string of Islands. Zombies were made to work the land. Bodies of family members were raised after death to work the land, slaves to till the ground ao the living did not.¡± She places a hand on my knee. ¡°Really?¡± She asks. I nod, ¡°Obviously that changed over generations stories conflated together, and now the word zombies is different it elicits fear. Undead are tools, like knives. A knife can cut bread, and fruit, but can also kill someone. It is up to the person wielding the tool to decide it¡¯s use.¡± I tell her. ¡°Can you demonstrate it for me? Raising I mean, you see I think you are wasted as an Oracle pursuing necromancy. A true necromancer doesn¡¯t beholden themselves to either divine magic, or the arcane. A true necromancer uses both in conjunction an exercise in both faith and science. So go on walk me step by step how you would raise this beetle.¡± I plunge the tip of a stock through the bugs head, wishing I had captured all the goblin. They would make fine subjects for cleric to practice on. She lifts the body of the insect up. ¡°Well first I need some components mainly an onyx worth around 30 gold. It¡¯ll help fuel the magic.¡± She says. ¡°Just something to help fuel the magic?¡± She shrugs. ¡°Onyx was what I was taught to use.¡± I think for a moment, I take the dagger and draw the blade across my palm, agitating the wound to keep the blood flowing. ¡°What are you doing!¡± Anise exclaims. ¡°Don¡¯t hurt yourself idiot.¡± I smile at her, as I cup the blood in my hands. ¡°This is nothing plus I have an oracle right here to my wound.¡± I reply. She hits me upside the head. ¡°Fine! Now that I have a magical catalyst I begin to channel necrotic energy into the body, attaching it like strings from the joints to the brain. Zombies are easier, since you can use basic instincts to automatically control it.¡± I feel a sickly wave wash over me. I feel nauseous, and see black shadows at the edges of my vision. This is negative energy at work? ¡°I begin the chant next.¡± She quickly switches into a tongue I don¡¯t recognize, like the clattering of bones, the moan of empty lungs, and the writhing of maggots, and worms in a grave. She places the beetle on the ground, and anoints the body with blood. Then she dips her fingers into the pool I have collected. She sprinkles the blood around the body. Plants wither, the ground turns white, and the detritus decays wherever the blood lands. I feel a piece of myself be sapped, like some of my life force was transferred into the bug. ¡°And done.¡± She wipes the blood from her hand onto a cloth and hands it to me. The bug twitches, then springs to life. It walks around on her palm, curling around and around. She pats me with a faintly glowing hand and the wound on my hand closes, I still feel weak though. ¡°Also you, and I are going to be taking magic lessons from Wizard.¡± I wipe the extra blood on another piece of cloth. I look up at Anise, she is crying now. ¡°Hey what''s wrong?¡± I ask. She shakes her head, and sniffs. ¡°Nothing, nothings wrong, I¡¯m just happy. I didn¡¯t think anybody would accept me, and that I would live as some sort of thrall to a horrible monster for my whole life. And then I met you, and your not a horrible monster, you are kind even though I was a bitch. I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m so sorry that I did that.¡± She wraps her arms around me, and hugs me tight. I hug her back. ¡°It¡¯s fine I had a talk with someone really important and found out that fate had a hand in it. You had a worse fate ahead if that hadn¡¯t happened.¡± I rub the back of her head, my necromancer in training. ¡°One day we¡¯ll have an army at our back and march right up to Velon, and you get first shot at his groin.¡± She laughed, a pretty thing that ended in a snort. ¡°Promise?¡± She asked. ¡°Cross my heart and hope to die.¡± Chapter 21- Melancholy I had forgotten all that I had ordered from the smith. The ball bearings, and iron rods. They had made a game of throwing the ball bearings and having Llewellyn chase after them. The small dragon leaps up at me when I walk in, and nibbles at the edge of my robe. I give him a pat on the head. He bounces over to Lily. His tail thudding against the wooden floor loudly. Marnie appears out of nowhere and grips my arm tightly. ¡°Listen here dragon slayer, I don¡¯t know what kinda shit you are practicing in the beds of my Inn. Next time you leave a dent in the wall, I¡¯ll be flying your skin like flag, and have your head mounted over the fireplace.¡± She whispers harshly to me. Oh yeah that happened didn¡¯t it. She reaches into my belt pouch and takes a fist full of gold out. Then walks off back to the kitchen. I should really bring up getting that building bought to Damien. Nothing like an adventurers guild really existed. Mercenary companies were around, but they were not the same as an adventurers guild. Therefore it seemed like an excellent idea to found an adventurers guild. A 3rd party group of people, that had no political ties, and could be hired by any group. That wasn¡¯t blacklisted of course. I¡¯d bring that up with Damien tomorrow. While I was at it I decided to list out priorities. Town development >road to dragon cave for wifi >begin expansion in that direction as well >public facilities schools, parks, hospitals >revise the circular plan of the town I decided that was decent for now. Something to focus on. I needed a better picture, of what the towns situation was like for that first though. Objectively speaking while the spoke and wheel pattern would be cool, and provide the most area, radius of space, I was looking into the long term now. The way long term, planning for the next 200-300 years. A grid patterned city was the most efficient in terms of traffic, and navigation. I¡¯ll open up some channels to merchants and discuss width of roads, commercial placement, and traffic regulations. I should probably consult with engineers, and city planners too. And a general realistically. Also farmers. Ugggghhhh this was getting out of hand. I listed what I needed. I would need a list list soon. I let out a sigh and run my hand through my hair. I needed to discuss the umbrella with the smith too. I sighed, maybe I could offload the territory onto someone else. Act as an advisor, or something. I was never a stand in the spotlight kinda guy. I was half tempted to just give it to Damien, but he seemed like the kinda guy who would get eaten alive in a leadership position that high. Not for being weak, just for caring about his people to much. I guess that¡¯s where I succeeded though wasn¡¯t it. When Cleric was strong enough though, I would 100% have her create an Undead defense force. The UDF had a nice ring to it. The bodies would be donated of course, with legal documentation, or at least those organ donor cards, people carry in their wallets. That could be interesting. A card with a tiny bit of magical energy in it a necromancer could identify in the heat of battle as someone condoning their body as use for an undead. I write that down too. One of the waitresses slides a cup of something towards, it¡¯s nice, bitter. Suddenly I realize it¡¯s coffee, with a touch of honey, and milk, mixed with a cinnamon flavoured alcohol. I feel the caffeine increasing my heart rate even though my bodies long since grown used to the effects of it. I look at Marnie who is standing over the table looking at me with shining eyes. ¡°Finally something you like!¡± She says triumphantly. I smile sheepishly. ¡°You always drink like you want to spit the alcohol back into your cup at the soonest opportunity.¡± She beans at me hands on her hips. ¡°What is it?¡± I ask her taking another sip of the warm liquid. ¡°Gnomes call it tinker brew, they cultivate these beans from their jungle home. Call them Quickenhearts. Dwarves import the beans enmasse the beans since it lets ¡®em stay up all night on a project easily.¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. I smile. ¡°Yeah we grow them where I¡¯m from too. Even figured out specifically what causes the energy boost. You can buy pills of the stuff in solid form, tiny little shots of the stuff too. Never had it like this though, reminds me of home almost.¡± She sees my melancholic mood. ¡°Well I''ll leave you to your drink enjoy.¡± I clasp the mug in two hands, and close my eyes. Letting the warmth radiate into my bodies. Everyone has to be homesick everyone now, and then I still wanted to go home. But now I had time, I could sharpen my claws, and when I was ready I would tackle that beast. Llewellyn nips at the bottom of my pants giving the hem a playful tug. I also had at least two people I could count on, even if one of them was a different part of me. Anise I felt would stick with me, we were two broken things after all. I reach my hand down and scritch the top of Llewellyn''s head. I chew the end of my pen, leaving teeth marks in the soft plastic. On Earth I was almost apathetic, because everything was done for me life was decided, but now I felt that same feeling rise up. More stifling than before, I had every opportunity in the world, I could be a Wizard, a Warrior, A king, or a literal Dragon. I didn¡¯t know what to do, no I did know what to do. I didn¡¯t know what I wanted to do. Going from living day by day, to planning 200 years into the future. What did I actually enjoy? That was a hard question. I was more in love with the fantasy of Tabletops, not the actual characters. Building something that was my own, fleshing out those little details, and letting the characters come up with cow tools all on their own. Perhaps this wasn¡¯t even real. I gave that a long thought. Perhaps I was in an asylum projecting thoughts, faces, classes, and races upon others. It wasn¡¯t my problem if I was. I would enjoy my time here, while I could. I gave myself a mental pat on the back for a job well done on the world though, if it was a figment of my imagination. Now that I was thinking on it what was that space, the white zone I could meditate into. Clearly Silence had made something, but was it an actual physical object or some mental construct, implanted into the space now. That was testable I just had to try, and conjure another item. I glanced at the room around me. Anise was closest to me. Everyone else kept a safe distance. Even the orcs, close enough to not isolate me, but far enough to be noticeable. I let out a sigh, who doesn''t say history repeats itself. I take a swig of my drink, and close my eyes. The flavour of the coffee seems to get more intense as I focus. But eventually mellows out all the same. I open my eyes the expanse of the white space laid out before me. I feel a nudge at my heels, and suddenly I¡¯m sitting on BB again. He props me up. ¡°Thank you BB.¡± I pat him and his beads shake together in a purr. I think for a moment, but decide the easiest is the simplest. Wall I command in my mind. Focusing on a spot about 2 feet in front of me. Nothing happens. ¡°Wall!¡± Again nothing happens. I stand up, and walk towards the location, bumping into something around where I was looking. I feel around, its a wall. I picture a brick wall instead of just a wall. A wall of bricks appears in front of me. However it looks like a badly rendered game. You can tell its a brick wall, but little else. I focus again, shrinking the wall down to just a brick. I lift it with my hands. It is extremely light and ridged, the corners are rounded, but have a ¡°hitbox" where the real corner is but doesn''t actually appear. I poke it and see an edged indent appear on my finger. I think about everything that makes a brick a brick, the texture, feel, weight, little pock marks across its surface, and where each bit of that brick has a chip or mar. The brick changes to fit my view of it. Well this could take forever. I drop the brick and it hits the floor with a clatter. I focus, You begin in a grand courtyard, or what was once a grand courtyard. The long years of neglect, have ruined it. A large fountain fills the center squared off with marble, and copper spouts shaped in fish heads hang with moss. The center piece is just a raised circle with the relief of a sprawling landscape of mountains and rivers that loops unto itself. Most of its obscured by dirt and grime. The grass grows long and wild. Weeds sprout from between the cobblestones. And the hedges that shelter the grounds grow wild, and untamed. The manor before you is dilapidated. The glass windows dirty, and cracked most outright shattered. The right side is blackened with fire, and collapsed upon itself. Whatever saved the rest of the manor isn¡¯t apparent from where you stand. The stones steps leading up to the door, are marred with battle. A thick layer of dried old blood even now remains these long years later. The door is smashed in the hinges holding them on by a hair''s thread. I look at the ruined manor before me. While the white space persists beyond it, it is there a ruined manor. I thought my best down to how the bushes should look, and the way the cobbles were paved. While a few spots look strange, like a repeating texture in the grass, or the hedges being a solid wall despite the gaps in them. It was a lot of effort however. I fall backwards onto BB. This was an exercise in memory, and imagination. It needed work, a lot of work. But this was something, a hobby at least, but if I can pull people in here like Waylax, a training zone. I lean back, and smile. Truly a wonderful thing. The power to create, even if they are only a mental construct. They could be part of a larger whole though. A small piece in a grand map, and it would all start here. I scratch my chin, I suppose this is like Fulldive vr isn¡¯t it. The millions of dollars I could make off of something like this alone. That was enough of a test to get a good idea of the limits in here. The more specific the better it seemed. I opened my eyes out of the whitespace, and looked down into the cool cup in front of me. It had felt like a half hour at max in there, but it was apparently longer out here. Maybe an hour and a half. I could think more on the time difference later though. It was getting late and things were getting busy. Chapter 22- The little things The next morning was fairly slow, everyone was moaning, and groaning from muscle soreness. The Orcs didn''t come down from their rooms until after lunch, sweating, and out or breath. Practicing their own form of cardio. ¡°We¡¯ll be doing this every other day from now on. Though you are welcome to do this more often make sure to take care of yourself.¡± I tell them. ¡°I have to do something today so feel free to enjoy your day of rest.¡± I grab my umbrella and wave to them as I head out the door. The walk to the smithy is short and Gred sits in the same spot puffing on his pipe. ¡°Dragon slayer, what brings ye to my smithy again.¡± He drags long on his pipe, and lets out a slow breath. The smoke diffuses throughout his beard, like it''s on fire. I hold out my umbrella. ¡°Could you make something like this, I¡¯m thinking a tough canvas for the fabric.¡± He lifts it out of my hand with practiced scrutiny. ¡°Hold the handle, and point the fabric out, then push the button.¡± I instruct him. He aims the umbrella, and the umbrella opens up in front of him. He drops it in surprise. ¡°Sorry about that,¡± I rub the back of my head sheepishly. ¡°Should of warned you.¡± I pick it up and present the opened umbrella to him. He looks at the folded bits of metal. He clicks his tongue. ¡°The metal is strong and sturdy, but a dwarven forge could make something four times stronger. I don¡¯t know the material here though, some elven steel wood might be a good replacement, but finding a carpenter who can use it will be a problem. Though with the dragon gone i suppose one might come." He pushes the top down, and to clicks back together. ¡°There is a problem¡­¡± He hands the umbrella back to me. ¡°A dwarf ain¡¯t got the fingers nor tools to work with something so fragile.¡± Gred holds up his rough calloused hands, near blackened with soot. ¡°You¡¯ll need an artificer, or tinkerer at the very least. I could provide metals but that fine work is too precise. I doubt I could figure out the inside bits as well." I let out a sigh. ¡°Now hold on this ain¡¯t the end o¡¯ the world. Across town we got a tinkerer, Amnello , but most folks who like their digits tend to shy away from him. So you won¡¯t get many who¡¯ll direct ye to him. If ye don¡¯t mind, he might have a package for me, and ye got one o¡¯ them fancy pantsy holding bags. Would ye mind grabbing it for me?¡± He asks. I smile. ¡°No problem at all although I might bother you some to help me forge an item, or two.¡± He nods. ¡°Fair is fair.¡± He gives me some quick directions. Out past the edge of town and a quarter mile into the woods along a narrow path. A ruined house in the middle of a large open field. The trees are tall, and thick which is disconcerting since many of them are skewered through with large pieces of metal, blackened, or missing. Large chunks of the ground are rent apart. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. As I step into the field I hear a loud bang like a firework going off. A brief flash blinds me. Then the shattering of wood as a metal ball flies out of the side of the house and careens into the ground spraying dirt, it skips across the ground and then hits a tree at the edge of the clearing. With a groan and snap the large hardwood tree falls over. A short man even shorter than a dwarf walks out of the new hole in his house he scratches his head then shrugs and walks back inside. I carefully walk through the field, making sure to watch my footing for what I assume could be live ordnance. ¡°Hello? Anyone here?¡± The front door swings open, and the same man, I assume is a gnome, is standing in the doorway. ¡°Ooooooh VISITORS! er VISITOR!¡± He shouts, much louder than I thought could come from such a small body. ¡°You¡¯re Amnello?¡± I ask. He nods his head up and down. He grabs my hand and begins tugging me inside. I am immediately assaulted by the bitter stench of coffee. ¡°Herehaveadrink,¡± He says, and shoves a lukewarm cup of the strongest smelling coffee I''ve ever had, into my hand. I see him zip past me in a blur, then a loud clatter. As he knocks over a pile of empty mugs, scattering them across the messy room. Piles of sharp metal scrap are next to opened containers filled with either ash or coffee. Clothing scattered around the room. The fireplace is taken up by some large metal thing with serrated teeth, so a pile of charred wood smokes in the center of the room. Amnello dashes back into the room knocking a pile of empty tins over. A chair lifted above his head. The head of the chair smacks straight into a large chandelier on the ceiling with a clang, and the whole house groans in protest. ¡°Sitsitsit. WhatcanIdoforyoutodayvisitor, no, friend.¡± He sits in a gnome sized chair. Practically, no, literally vibrating in place. ¡°Uh well-" ¡°Doessomeoneelseneedquickhearts? Ihaveplentytospare. Ordoessomeoneneedsomething made. IcanputmyexperimentstothesidesoIcanmakesomething.¡± He lifts a cup of coffee to his mouth, and takes a long sip. No, wait, he''s chugging it. When he finishes he puts the cup down onto a metallic coaster. A cage springs up around the cup and a large metal hand drops from the ceiling. And lifts it. A moment passes and the hand drops again with a fresh cup. ¡°Uhm,¡± I lift the umbrella and place it on the table. ¡°Here this is an umbrella made to protect you from the rain, although some make them out of lace, and silk to protect themselves from the sun, and keep their skin fair. I brought this to Gred, and he said that you were the guy, er gnome to take it to.¡± I lift the coffee to my lips, upon it hitting my tongue I decide I would rather drink bleach, and let it pour back into the cup. ¡°How many cups of coff- quick hearts have you had today?¡± I ask the gnome. ¡°26!¡± He replies. I nod my head, and place the cup down onto the table. ¡°Thisumbrellaisfascinating, mayItakeitapart?¡± I nod. ¡°Feel free as long as you can either repair it or replicate it. I want to make this an export a luxury good, if you will.¡± He nods. ¡°Before I forget Gred asked me to pick up a package for him.¡± I tell Amnello. ¡°Onemoment.¡± He replies. He places the umbrella onto the table, and the dashes off he returns holding a large metal canister filled with black dust. ¡°ThisishisgroundQuickheartpowder.¡± He places it down with a loud thump. I scratch the stubble on my chin. ¡°Do you mind if I take a look at your work? I know a thing, or two about engineering.¡± I seemed to have turned up his settings, as the chair starts to vibrate along with him now. ¡°Ofcourse, Ofcourse. Onetinkerertoanother. I am Amnello the exile, formerly of the house of cogs. Whoareyou?¡± He asks. ¡°Lord Jonathan Johnson, the dragon blooded.¡± I reply casually. Amnello audibly gulps, and actually stills. ¡°W-well l-lord Jonathan. You wouldn¡¯t happen to be the new Dragon slayer I heard about would you?¡± I smile. ¡°Why yes that is me. Was it you that sold Marnie the cof-Quickhearts? The drink was wonderful, reminds me of home.¡± Amnellos eyes dart around. ¡°You mustn¡¯t believe the townsfolk I wasn¡¯t the one who made that thunderous racket the other day. I prom-" ¡°No need to worry that was me.¡± I cut him off. ¡°Now you were going to show me your work?¡± Chapter 23- Arms race I step past Amnellon and into his workshop. Many different metal arms and vices hold materials aloft. Half finished music boxes, a clock pulled apart and labeled, and, what I was looking for, a cannon. This wasn¡¯t actually a cannon like the ones on earth. This was a large metal cylinder, with a large hole bored down the center. The back had a much smaller hole with the remains of a wick inside. I step over to the cannon, and run my hand up and down it. ¡°What are you using to fire this?¡± I ask turning to Amnello. ¡°Kobold dust.¡± He blurts out, before slapping a hand over his mouth. ¡°I misspoke my lord, it''s actually a complic-" ¡°75 parts saltpeter, 15 parts charcoal, and 10 parts sulfur. Grind up the salt peter, then mix up the charcoal and sulfur and sieve out large chunks. Add water and stir the ingredients into a paste then allow to dry before grinding it up once more. Is that the recipe?¡± I ask the gnome. He looks at me a little dumbfounded. ¡°I-I don''t know the Kobolds keep it a secret. I just buy- I mean- fine you got me.¡± He holds out his wrists, and closes his eyes. ¡°What are you doing?¡± I ask him. ¡°Waiting for you to arrest me.¡± He replies. ¡°Why would I arrest you?¡± He drops his hands. ¡°Well Kobold dust is illegal. Since the Kobolds make it, and they control it, and they won¡¯t sell the recipe so the lords can¡¯t tax it¡­¡± Amnello pauses for a moment. ¡°But if you can make it then it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± I click my tongue in annoyance. ¡°I would appreciate you to be discreet now that I¡¯ve told you the recipe only buy the ingredients in bulk with other common items used for alchemical purposes, and don¡¯t share it. Also who do you buy from? A middle man, or Kobolds themselves? Also I¡¯ll need to check the quality of their work. If I can negotiate a better recipe refinement with them for sole trading rights in the territory that would be preferable.¡± I grab a piece of charcoal, and some parchment from the table. Perhaps guiding the Kobolds into becoming an arms powerhouse wasn¡¯t the best idea, but with a little incentive, and some dragon blood I¡¯m sure I could at least mold them a little. Tell them a little about my world, and the nations there might sway them. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Their inferiority complex could work in my favor. Who cares about a few measly land masses when I could bait them into going after flight, and travelling to space. It took what about 700 years from the use of the first firearm to the nuclear bomb. With a little modern help, and a dash of magic I have no doubt I could reach the moon in a decade. With the parchment I draw a rough design for a musket, and musket balls. Then scratch it out, and jump right into rifles, and ammunition. Muskets are to inaccurate. And I have the sum of human knowledge at my fingertips. ¡°Do whatever you need to make this possible, you have until the meeting where I meet the Kobolds to get it done. Money is no longer an issue for you. Bill supplies within reason to me. I would prefer it fail less than 60% of the time when used. If you need any help feel free to call on me. This is the start of a new era Amnello.¡± I tell him. He looks dumbstruck. ¡°It¡¯s sink, or swim now. You either lead the pack or get left in the dust. Will your name be known several hundred years for now, or will you be not even a footnote in the ledgers of history.¡± He looks hesitant. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be beholden to you, my lord. If you¡¯ll excuse my tone.¡± He replies resolutely. I give him a small smile. ¡°Why would you be? After this is complete I may call on you every now, and again for some works. All other time can be devoted to your own projects, just show some results and don¡¯t get complacent. You won¡¯t be the only tinkerer I hire so consider this a head start.¡± He smiles, like a kid on christmas appreciating the gifts laid out before them. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best my lord.¡± He says. ¡°I won''t expect anything less.¡± He reaches up and grabs the paper that has been hastily scribbled on. ¡°I can do something with this. My contact won¡¯t come for another 2 weeks, and then I won¡¯t get a reply from the kobolds for a month after.¡± He says. ¡°Use your time wisely then. If that''s all I have some more business to take care of elsewhere.¡± I say. ¡°Farewell my lord.¡± Amnello says as he escorts me out the door. Before I leave I turn to face him one last time. ¡°Another thing to keep in mind is that we may face a nation at one point with nearly 700 plus years of progress on us. Who has touched the stars, and walked on the deepest seabeds. They¡¯ve dug deeper than any dwarven mine, and planted more trees than any elven village. The place they live has run out of room, and when a society runs out of room it expands, swallowing everything it can as it passes. They will come searching for new lands.¡± Amnello shudders a little. ¡°Who are they my lord?¡± He asks. ¡°They are the largest empire to ever exist in known history, they span the entire planet, they are an empire upon which the sun never sets. They are a nation past Avallon, and further still. Originally they were a group of colonies that the british, the country from which king Arthur hails, created but broke free of their control, and grew only in size and power. I should know I am from there.¡± I pause for a moment to let it sink in. ¡°And the most terrifying part is that they have no magic. They have studied the laws of nature to such a degree they don¡¯t need magic to bend them to their will. That is who we have to worry about, the world was on the brink of war when I left and when I return I have no doubt that America will be it¡¯s only survivor. They will ask many questions of me, I would prefer to have something behind me to give my words clout rather than asking them kindly not to attack or invade. Mutually assured destruction is a phrase you will become intimately familair with. Returning home is not a matter of if, but when. When I do, and the doors linking our worlds open, I- no we will not be eaaily pushed over.¡± Chapter 24- Fake it till you make it Two weeks past by in a flash. Wizard could cast simple spells at almost a dead sprint, although she hadn¡¯t got the hang of not using material components. Anise was making big strides in her necromancy. She could control six undead at a time, she used my advice to use a group of weaker undead to slowly kill bigger, and bigger animals. Her main problem is a lack of creativity. But I¡¯ve been helping her with that. She managed to take down a large deer by remotely controlling her undead over a period of 18 hours to maneuver it into a trap. I cleaned up the deer and she used her powers to slough the remainder of flesh off bones. The problem was the it wasn¡¯t exactly conspicuous, we were worried about it getting found out. But Anise remembered Wizard talking about some plant creatures taking the shape of animals. So we made a mock one. Threading vines, flowers, branches, and leaves into its rib cage and around it¡¯s bones. Undead didn''t naturally expel an aura of death and decay, so with a little dirt nestled inside its body, and some light care every day it looks more like a plant creature. Besides her skeletal deer, she has two zombie ravens, a skeletal dog, a skeletal raccoon, and two skeletal badgers. I just assumed Rogue was off doing something productive, as he seemed to always disappear in the morning with nothing and comeback with a coin pouch full of gold in the evening. Fighter was stepping into the role of meat shield I always knew he was. He was a sturdy guy, who seemed to have more talent with a shield and short spear, or arming sword, over a greatsword. It was fun to watch the guards shoot blunted arrows at him, not in the lets all bully the idiot kinda way, but in the this dude is knocking arrows out of the air with his shield kinda way. And he has gotten very good at it. I almost want to get him a magic resistant, or even anti-magic shield and get him to learn to deflect spells. That would scare the pants off any caster. I spent most of my time channeling that well of energy within me the lightning arrow I did seemed to take up a piece of myself, so I could probably only learn a few tricks like that. I could however cause the lighting to crack louder if that made sense. I could channel a bunch more energy into the bolt than normal, and cause it to really sting your ears, but it made me super light headed, and dizzy for a little bit. Which wasn''t even at its full power. I would be out of a fight for a handful of seconds at least if I did something like that in combat. Developing the energy within myself had another boon. I grew more in touch with the draconic side of myself. The backlash from the lightning breath was less intense, and I could manifest that power as physical changes on my body. Arthur was developing into quite the combatant. Given another month or two of hard training I would be comfortable letting him go conquer the surrounding tribes. He wasn¡¯t particularly good at fighting with weapons, but he knew exactly where to hit someone to make them hurt. He had almost a sixth sense for it. If someone had stubbed a toe, he could pick up on it and would wail on it. Taking advantage like that was a huge boon, and I demonstrated some more techniques to him. Throwing sand in his eyes I had kept in my pocket to blind him, clapping his ears with both of my hands to deafen him, and hitting him in the genitals to stun him are among the few. Arthur had picked up on them all although going after weak points seemed to be his forte. Llewellyn was doing well too. He still ate lots of stuff, but didn¡¯t bite literally everything in sight. I also purchased, or more accurately was granced a parcel of land which I elected to use on that ruined tavern/carriage house, and a few of the surrounding buildings. Only after I bought them from the inhabitants for a large sum. I gave them a couple of months to move out, and find new lodgings so they weren¡¯t out on the street immediately. A lot of the building had to be repaired, but I didn¡¯t mind. Marnie was happy to have me, and my coin purse, staying at her inn. Today was the day that Amnello was meeting his contact to pick up more Kobold dust, and get into talks. I offered the Kobolds. Refuge from persecution, improved or at least what I thought was an improved gunpowder recipe, and was open to negotiating about giving them at least some of the mountain. That was both a boon, and trap. As long as they defended the cave, and let me go down with some guards every once in a while, they had free access. And any goods they wanted would get a flat tax and that was it. In the meantime Amnello had been busy. The hardest thing was getting the rifling for the barrels. However Gred had a type of drill used for putting holes into Earth drale eggs. It was close enough to what we needed that with a little work Amnello, and some rough ideas he could scrape together the rifling machine. Most of the rest of the time was spent testing, and working up the firing mechanism, and bullets. The rifle although not as advanced was ready for use. It was accurate to only about 100 yards, but it was a success. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°If I had some champagne this would be an excellent time to pop it.¡± I pat Amnello on the back. He holds the rifle close to himself. Hugging it despite how comically oversized it is. ¡°Its amazing, maybe in 30 years I could have come with something half as effective. But this, this is a marvel.¡± He smiles. Rubbing his hand up, and down the barrel ¡°You know back home people named guns, after the people who invented them sometimes. The Thompson, Luger, Mauser. How about the Amnello Mark A.¡± I tell him, with a smile. He looks shocked. ¡°They were your designs you drew em up.¡± He replies. I wave my hand at him. ¡°You did the tinkering and smithing. I can get the next one.¡± His eyes glaze over. ¡°The next one¡­ Yeah the next one!¡± He says excitedly. We had been standing near the meeting zone for nearly an hour now. It was a near mile into the woods to the north of Amnellos hut. Waiting for Amnellos contact to come. With a sharp intake of breath I feel a cold piece of steel pressed against my neck. ¡°This one¡­ Who is he? He is not part of the exchange gnome.¡± A voice hisses from behind me. I let out a small smile. I roil the energy in my body. ¡°People always seem to forget the effective range of their weapons.¡± I let a brief wave of lightning roll over my skin. Depleting a small amount of my internal energy. It zaps him, but the person behind me doesn''t even flinch. ¡°Smooth skins always underestimate us Kobolds. I¡¯m sure my clan will enjoy torturing you.¡± He replies. I can hear his breath still, as he prepares to strike. ¡°YOU DARE THREATEN A DRAGON!¡± I shout. I draw forth my dragon blood, and my hands become draconic claws. In his moment of hesitation I spin around, and ready my claws to rend his stomach. My skin pulses with a faint blue, as traces of electricity run beneath my skin illuminating translucent scales. The creature, I recognize as a kobold, stiffens. He immediately drops to his knees. ¡°I apologize blooded one. Had this foolish one known he would not have attempted such." He tells me. ¡°Hmph, see it does not happen again.¡± ¡®Fake it till you make it¡¯ words to live by. I look up, and down at the blue kobold before me. A faint white scar traces over his eye ridge, the scales either newer or damaged. Explains why my electricity didn¡¯t affect him. ¡°I have some things to discuss with you. I am now the lord of this land, the dragon that resided in the mountain has been taken care of. As such I would like to welcome my cousins. You have a curious powder, Kobold dust right? Sulfur, saltpeter, and charcoal. I want you, and your clan to continue to produce this, and sell it to me tax free. I¡¯m open to negotiations if you would like to claim the dragon''s cave in order to be closer to the town. Your clan is free to sell anything they want at market, only kobold dust won¡¯t be taxed though.¡± The kobold peaks his head up at me. His eyes scan me for a moment. ¡°Yes blooded one.¡± He tilts his head back to face the ground. ¡°Stand, Amnello has been working on a weapon. We want to demonstrate it for you. So you may return to your clan with the good news of the power you will soon wield. Amnello if you will.¡± We had set up some wooden boards with a bullseye drawn in red paint. Amnello clicks the bullets into place. Then lines up the shot using a simple wooden tripod. With a large crack the gun fires and the wooden board shakes. A large hole clearly seen from here. I look at the stupified kobold. ¡°Welcome to the age of firearms, congratulations on becoming the strongest species on the plane. I¡¯ll expect your return in a month, with word from the elders.¡± The kobold walks over, and inspects the board. ¡°What magic is this?¡± He asks. I smile. ¡°Not magic,but science. This is what can be achieved with kobold dust, and this is just the beginning. In a decade people from around the world will come to kiss the kobolds toes to get into your good graces.¡± His eyes light up at that. ¡°It will be done blooded one.¡± I give the Kobold a nod. ¡°Very well then, I¡¯ll leave you two to work out the rest of your interaction. You can quote him a price Amnello, if you are confident. I think we should work on a few versions of the gun first. Take it out of alpha testing.¡± I give them both a wave, and head off back to town. I let out a yawn, so much to do. A week is both fast, and slow. I felt it in my gut this was the right decision, but the ocean of choices before me was daunting still. Fake it till you make it. Chapter 25- To warm the heart Thinking back on that interaction last night put my stomach in knots. I forced myself to shovel the lukewarm oatmeal into my mouth as I gazed into the fire. Word had come that some giant clans had started fighting to the west, ice giants, and stone giants. So we were getting buffeted by freezing winds, which had started this morning. I was assured by Marnie that it won¡¯t last more than a month, but by that time it would be the start of fall, and would be getting colder anyhow. I shoveled another spoon of oatmeal into mouth, chasing it down with some coffee, which Marnie was adept at making. Rogue hated the cold, and was huddled near the fire. He had a near boiling cup of cider in his hands. I was waiting for the blanket wrapped around him to catch fire, but it¡¯s been an hour so I''ve given up. It would be another month until things got serious again. I would take the time to practice, and train. I¡¯d make another trip to the cave, and see if I could download some more content. Something on dynamite maybe. I¡¯m sure the kobolds would love that stuff. A train could be fun to experiment with, but that would take many more builders than we had. News didn''t travel exactly fast to the common man. And many have lives already. But I didn¡¯t exactly need the common man did I. I drew my cloak around myself, and headed out towards the smith. Large clouds blocked out the sun, and the cold weather had driven many people indoors. Gatherers took the opportunity to carry large bundles of Dragon eyes in wicker baskets, and wheelbarrows. Delivering them door to door in exchange for a few copper pieces. The cold had reminded everyone to prepare for winter. ¡°GRED,¡± I shouted, outside the smith. Like always he sits on the chair with a long pipe in his mouth. ¡°Yes dragon slayer.¡± He says calmly. ¡°Fantastic you are here. I have a new project something that will shake the foundation of this nation.¡± He lets out a breath heavy with smoke. ¡°You mean like those flamehand whatchamacallits.¡± I nod. ¡°The firearms yes, but this is of a different nature. You see firearms are a tool of war, while this new machine is a tool of culture.¡± I rest my hands up on a table covered in nails, and hammers. ¡°Let me ask you this. How long does it take someone to copy even a single book. A month, two months, longer depending on the text. And any pictures or diagrams could be lost in translation. Now what if we could make a 100 copies of a book in a fraction of that time.¡± He peaks an eyebrow at me. ¡°You see a printing press is a machine with evenly spaced rails on a large flat board. Tiles with different letters are slid onto the rails, to make words, and then brushed with ink. We slide a sheet of paper underneath, and use a crank to press the type. Voila a copy of a page. Then you just do that a hundred, more times and you have a hundred copies of that page. Repeat for every page of the book, and you have 100 copies of a book.¡± He scratches his chin. Which makes a rough noise like sandpaper on sandpaper. ¡°Thats not unlike the golem forges in Gargroth the dwarven capital, we pour molten metal into plaster casts to get lots of fine pieces we would have to smelt otherwise. Similar concept atleast.¡± He says. ¡°Precisely if I drafted up some plans could you work on something like that. You can have it delivered to my new building, just get me a bill and I''ll pay you.¡± He waves his hand. ¡°Sure thing." I pull a sheet of paper out, and use a piece of charcoal to draft the part. It''s fairly simple a wooden board for the paper to go on, then the racks for the type, and a hand crank that you spun to lower the type. The brushes and ink were not included because they were not part of the design. I said farewell to Gred and headed back to the old Inn. ¡°Good morning Mr. Juniper.¡± I wave to the carpenter. He was a human in his early 30¡¯s. ¡°Morning Milord.¡± He smiles from atop his ladder. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t fault you for staying home with it being this cold.¡± I say. He smiles, and pauses from hammering the nails. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m from the north, the cold reminds me of home. Plus I know what it¡¯s like to have no home during the winter months so if you don''t mind I¡¯ll keep working.¡± He replies. ¡°If it doesn¡¯t bother you¡­¡± He nods his head at me. He whistles a jaunty tune to the rhythm of his pounding hammer. He wasn¡¯t creative like Amnello, or flexible with materials like Gred. But he was the hardest worker I¡¯ve ever seen. Sunrise till sunset every day, even during breaks he was doing something. I¡¯d shown a few of the bakers, workers, and Marnie the glory of sandwiches, which were a thing already but much less standardized. An intrepid baker had even started leaving a row of her oven open, so people could bring sandwiches to heat up, or even have her make them. Chopped up dragon eye marinated in ale for a night, and mixed with chunks of chicken, beef, or pork was extremely popular. And people like Mr. Juniper often carried one in a lunch pouch. Essentially a lunchbox that had insulation properties, and was hung from your belt. I headed back towards the inn, the rest of the party was probably awake by this time. Anise, and I would go off for our training. Thelia was being weird though. She said she was a diplomat or envoy at least. But not once tried to sit down, and talk to me about diplomacy things. I walk through the door, Anise is sitting with Wizard, reviewing some magical formulas, transmutation I think. Anise holds up her hand. Five fingers up so five minutes. I head upstairs and grab my staff, I had been ignoring it since the whole greed elemental inside. The interaction last night had shaken me a little, so if I had an OP staff by god I would use it. I also put on an extra pair of socks since my feet were getting kinda cold. I walked back down stairs, and Anise was waiting by the door for me. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. She looked curiously at my staff, but didn¡¯t say anything. ¡°Cleric and I will be back later.¡± I tell Wizard. Fighter wasn¡¯t around, and Rogue was still next to the fire. We walked down the street, I pick up two of those sandwiches from the baker, and a farm loaf of bread with butter. We head out of town sharing the warm food between us. A quarter of a mile into the woods Anises undead start to appear. The ravens land on nearby branches, peering down at us. One lets out a strange guttural caw. We make our way to the thicket we had found. No dragon eyes grew in the area. While the thicket wasn¡¯t very tall a large divot in the ground was in the center of it, a tree had fallen some time ago, and vines had grown over it and the thicket leaned against those. This was where one of the badgers was living, but it suited our purpose just fine. I laid a blanket down, and we finished off the bread. ¡°Why are you doing this? I''ve thought about it the whole week. Why are you helping train me?¡± I brush some sticks out of the way, and push some detritus out of the entrance. ¡°Well after your story I would¡¯ve done it because I wanted to do it. But someone very powerful asked me to.¡± She sits down cross legged. ¡°Sure, but you aren¡¯t the ¡®out of the goodness¡¯ of your heart type.¡± I sit down across from her. ¡°Am I not? After your story, you are just as fucked up as me. Why wouldn¡¯t I help someone like me?¡± She lets out a sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t understand you.¡± Anise calls out, and one of the badgers pops out of a hole with a scroll case in its mouth. It was water proof and kept hidden in a deep part of the burrow. Inside were notes on necromancy. Animals like birds, and mammals seemed to be the easiest to raise right now. The same amount of energy required to raise even a pillbug. We hadn¡¯t even tried to find a magical beast. Owlbears were both well known, and feared. They had an unmistakable roar, or so I¡¯ve heard. ¡°Why did you bring the staff?¡± Anise asks. ¡°I wanted to try, and use it. So I will try and bond with the item.¡± I crossed my legs, before starting my meditation I toss Anise my phone. ¡°Don¡¯t waste the whole charge.¡± I rest the staff over my legs, and close my eyes. I entered the white space easily. I haven''t changed much inside. The same ruined manor, although the graphics if you could call them that were more refined. I diversified the grasses, and started individualizing the branches in the hedges. I was about 30 percent finished with those. The stones had a higher resolution now, although you could probably tell they were fake with a high enough power microscope. I ran my hand over the hedges leaves, they were slightly slick with dew. Like it was morning when this still frame of time was taken. A white figure flashes past the corner of my eye. I snap my head, but she disappears around the bend of one of the hedges. I had made a maze of them, but it was just a geometric pattern to get lost in while I thought. I follow after the figure. Walking past hedge after hedge. Turning corners to merely get a glimpse of a fading dress. After minutes of chasing I decide I¡¯ve had enough. I will the hedges to chart me a path to the figure. Holes my size open in hedge after hedge. Closing just behind me. I beeline to the figure which is struggling to keep up now. I begin to block off exists as well this is MY mental construct. Walls rise up at intersections blocking off paths for the intruder. Soon they are boxed in, and I burst through the hedge. At the end of a dead end. A blonde haired girl in a white dress faces the walls around her. She presses a hand up against the hedge, but they are solid. Not the lifelike ones I had meticulously created. ¡°Who, or What are you?¡± I call out. Carefully walking forward. She turns around. She was beautiful, stunning even. Her hair was blonde, but not golden. A darker blonde like wheat. Her skin was tan with freckles dotting along her arms. ¡°Iz-Izzy?¡± I call out, and falter. The construct shudders. Making the hedges seem to wave in an invisible wind. ¡°Is that what this one is.¡± She says in her voice. How long has it been since I heard it? ¡°Is it really you?¡± I take another shaky step, and the hedges shudder once more. She laughs a light tinkling thing. Just like I remember. ¡°I suppose in a sense I am Izzy. Your memories of her in one condensed form. It was the strongest you had. So I am borrowing your memory of her.¡± I falter once more, and the hedges flash white for a moment. ¡°No I live in the staff, or more like I am the staff.¡± Izzy says. ¡°You have an unnatural fascination with this girl. Bordering on obsession.¡± It says, using Izzy''s voice. ¡°Shut the FUCK UP!¡± The construct shudders again. The hedges warping, growing brambles. ¡°You don¡¯t know shit. GET OUT OF HER!¡± It shrugs with her body. ¡°Can¡¯t help you there. You are one making me like this now. Couldn¡¯t change if I tried.¡± The thing inside Izzy replies. ¡°I said change!¡± I hiss. ¡°Is this the reason you want to train Anise so much. Such a sweet girl. You shouldn¡¯t play with her feelings.¡± I grind my teeth together. ¡°She likes you you know, has a crush on you. But you already knew that. An ugly thing like her probably never looked at like an equal when they see what she really looks like.¡± The thing steps closer. ¡°Pity or disgust, pity or disgust. And you come along and accept her how could a girl like that not fall in love. That''s the reason you won¡¯t go back yet.¡± I shake my head. ¡°No that''s just cruel.¡± It takes another step forward. ¡°Life is cruel. You know this better than anyone. You even carry a lock of her hair in your wallet still.¡± It steps forward again. ¡°No she is in peace I couldn¡¯t do that to her. Or myself I¡¯ve grown.¡± The thing stands in front of me. It leans into me pressing her self up against my body. ¡°Then burn the hair. As a final goodbye.¡± I jolt out of sleep learning. Anise shakes my shoulder. ¡°Come on it''s almost night time. We gotta go.¡± The staff pulses a faint green, but grows dim. I stand up, and start to roll up the blanket. ¡°Hey Jonathan.¡± Anise says, I pause. Shes bent over holding onto the edge of the blanket. She bites her lip, and her face flushes. ¡°Never mind.¡± We clean up the camp, and the badger returns the scroll case to its location in the burrow. As we walk back to the town I finger my wallet in my pocket. Feeling the rough hairs in between my fingers tied together in the string. Periodically I check them heading all the way back to town. As if they will somehow disappear. In the tavern I sit facing the fire, holding my wallet in hand the leather is old and creased. I lift the few golden strands in my hand. Holding them close. I gaze into the fire. It would end quickly. The whole thing over in a second. ¡°Hey Jonathan, come get some stew.¡± Anise says. I pull myself out of my trance, and look over at her smiling face. A bit of stew dribbling down her chin. ¡°Give me a moment.¡± I say. With one last look into the fire I tuck the hairs back into my wallet and fold it. Placing it into my pocket. I can almost hear the sound of laughter coming from the staff, a light tinkling thing just like I remember. Chapter 26- Thicker than water The cold gets worse than yesterday. A thin layer of frost covers everything now. People are bundled up in warm furs, and only those who absolutely need to work are doing so. Mr. Juniper told me he would be fine once again. I ordered him a months worth of sandwiches from his favorite baker for him. Gred had begun work on the frame of the printing press, and occasionally the day would be interrupted by the faint cracking of gunfire. After a week of Anise diligently training I decided that we should take a break. I think she was still secretly training with her undead, but I wasn¡¯t gonna bug her. I sat at a table, and sipped at the delicious coffee. Marnie couldn¡¯t believe that I wasn¡¯t ringing my hair out with how crazy it made some people get. That''s what an addiction gets you at least a resistance to it. I¡¯ll have to right that on my character sheet from now on. +5 to saves vs. Caffeine. I chuckle to myself. Thelia sits at my table flanked by really big guy I didn¡¯t remember the name of and Thud? Thug? Thog, that was his name. I lock eyes with Thelia. ¡°Yes? I¡¯ve had my coffee, or tinker brew, so I should be fine.¡± I give them a smile. ¡°I just can¡¯t seem to figure you out dragon slayer. You are apparently merciless, ruthless even from what the townsfolk say what you did to the goblins. But you help out a child. You know more about how the body functions than the most trained healers I know. But don¡¯t seem to understand simple things like magic. You come from a land of myth, and legend. But are an average man. By my tusks you couldn¡¯t slay a dragon, but here you sit.¡± She scratches her chin. ¡°You!¡± She points at a barmaid ¡°Bring me what he is drinking.¡± The barmaid scurries off. I take a sip of the warm coffee. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t recommend it you¡¯ll be bouncing off the walls.¡± I tell her. ¡°I could out drink you in a second.¡± She says. ¡°I can take your drink. Tinker brew the gnomes call it, bah.¡± She waves her hand. The barmaid comes in the mug in hand. She places it on the table, and darts away. She takes a sip, and cringes a little. ¡°It¡¯s bitter.¡± I smile. ¡°Yes it is.¡± She places the mug down. ¡°You are a walking contradiction. Truly.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°Which is what makes what I am about to do a huge risk.¡± She stands up, and looms over me. I turn my head notice that her two other big guys are standing behind me. And the woman she brought are making a passage to outside. Standing in such a way they could take care of anyone that comes close. ¡°Is this necessary?¡± I ask her. She frowns. ¡°Yes,¡± One of the guys place a firm hand on my shoulder. I definitely can¡¯t move. It doesn¡¯t hurt but I¡¯m stuck now. ¡°Really? Really?¡± Thelia pushes the table out of the way. She stands in front of me. Then drops to a knee, ¡°I Thelia of the great clans, daughter of the Great axe do so pledge my tusk, and claw to Jonathan Johnson the dragon slayer.¡± She moves her hand up to her face and with a sickening crunch rips her right tusk out. She pulls a small metal ring from her pocket, and clicks the tusk into place. She gingerly lifts my hand, and places the ring onto my ring finger. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Okay what in the actual FUCK just happened?¡± I ask. Thelia stands, and looks me in the eyes. Blood Pours down her lip. ¡°The left tusk in Orc culture represents allegiance,¡± She lifts her bangle. ¡°Each tusk here represents an Orc that has chosen me to be their leader. And believes in my decisions.¡± The taps her gap now. ¡°The right tusk is different. The right tusk has two uses. It is removed when an orc dies to be passed down their bloodline. Or to make a blood pledge to someone. The blood magic has taken effect now. When you die so shall I, for our fates are now intertwined.¡± I chuckle a little, ¡°That''s kinda extreme. What happens if I get attacked in the bathroom or something when you aren¡¯t around? It''s not your fault.¡± She looks at me straight faced, then at the orcs around. They all burst into laughter. ¡°Not around that''s a good one. No, I will be with you always.¡± She raises her tusk bangles slightly. ¡°I will send Relic, Farley, and Sentusa to tell my clan of this. They will return within a score of days with the rest of my tusks, and any others who would swear allegiance.¡± Thelia looks at me seriously. ¡°You needed more of a workforce for this city, and you will have one at your full disposal. I have nearly 600 tusks at my back.¡± She says. I look at her again, ¡°And they are coming here?¡± She nods. I let out a sigh. ¡°Well I¡¯m sure Damien will be thrilled to hear that.¡± I sigh again. ¡°Come on Thelia we have to go get yelled at by Damien.¡± I start walking to the door Thelia is right behind me. I grab a little cloth from my bag, and throw it at her. ¡°Use the cloth to staunch the blood.¡± I tell her. The walk is painfully quick. I knock on the door to the constabulary. ¡°Damien? I-We have something to tell you.¡± After a moment the door swings up. ¡°Yes¡­¡± Damien replies. He already looks ready to cringe. ¡°Well you see Thelia enacted a..." ¡°Blood pledge" ¡°Yes that, so now 600 orcs are coming in like two weeks.¡± Damien looks at me and then Thelia, then back at me. ¡°I really really hate you.¡± He says to me. ¡°Why couldn¡¯t the dragon have just eaten you? Then I could be sitting nice and cozy waiting out the inevitable day, with dread, that I die in dragons fire.¡± He gestures to everything around him. ¡°Now, NOW I have to deal with your shit.¡± He continues. Damien walks over to his desk, and sits behind it. He pulls out a large ledger, and an amber bottled filled with a slightly murky liquid. ¡°Alright then do you have an exact figure on how many people? How many women, and men? How many of age?¡± He says. He uncorks the bottle while waiting for an answer, and begins to drink. ¡°Just around 600,¡± Thelia says. ¡°Two thirds female, less than half of those children. Less than a quarter of the males are children.¡± Damien nods, and scribbles down the figures. Taking a moment to do some mental math. He lets out a sigh. ¡°Well we have 100 houses in town available. If we squeeze everyone in we can fit them. If they work we should have a house per family before, or at the start of, winter.¡± I smile. ¡°I owe you one for this.¡± I say to Damien. He glares dagger at me. ¡°I better die old, and fat. When my piles of gold collapse on me.¡± He waves his hand at me, ¡°Shoo now. I have work to do.¡± I say farewell, and head out the door. We head back to the inn. A little bit of cloth wadded up into her lip. I make a detour and head to Greds smithy. He¡¯s sitting out in the same spot as always. Smoking his pipe. ¡°Hey Gred I need some help.¡± I tell him. He looks towards me, then towards Thelia. ¡°Sorry closed today.¡± He replies. ¡°No, I don¡¯t need anything commissioned, just where a potter, or ceramics maker is.¡± He gives me the stink eye. ¡°I said I was closed. Good day to you.¡± He stands up off his chair, and heads inside loudly slamming the door. I pull my lips back, in a mock frown. ¡°Well something''s got his nails bent.¡± I jab Thelia lightly in the ribs, to see if she gets the joke. She takes the opportunity to grab me by the armpits and practically suplex me. ¡°Ow what the fuck.¡± I groan. She looks at me oddly. ¡°Were you not trying to start a training fight?¡± I sit up, and dust myself off. ¡°No¡­ That wasn¡¯t what I was trying to do.¡± I stand up, and stretch my back to try and alleviate the pain. ¡°Well I¡¯ll guess I¡¯ll have to ask about a potter in the Inn.¡± I say. Thelia looks slightly confused at me, but doesn¡¯t say anything. If this was a manga I would classify her as the cool girl. But it just made her seem kinda awkward. Orc culture perhaps they didn¡¯t seem the most chatty people to those they didn¡¯t know intimately. That was a conversation for another time though. Chapter 27- Modesty is a virtue I spent the rest of the day with Thelia hovering over my shoulder as I talked to a friendly Halfling. She was a potter, and had dealt with porcelain before although a more primitive version. After some discussion I managed to order about 700 tusks although they wouldn¡¯t actually be made yet. Just paid for in advance. We got the preliminary measurements for Thelia done, along with some designs namely my crest pressed into the outside facing portion of the tusk. The porcelain tooth would be much whiter than her other tusk, but Thelia insisted that it be marked so orcs wouldn¡¯t abuse the practice. The tusk would be ready in a few days. This however opened up a whole slew of ideas for me. And upon returning to the inn I furiously wrote out ideas. Magical tattoos, magical wands, magical staves, even magical food. So why not magical teeth. We would need an enchanter, but creating tusks for orcs that had things like mage lights, spark, create or destroy water, detect poison, purify food and drink, etc. Was clever, and extremely marketable. Especially if 600+ orcs missing a tusk each were coming. Hell magical teeth were profitable even if you weren''t an orc. Nobles could replace a tooth to have something like purify food and drink cast on everything they eat. Never have to worry about poisons again. I was kinda surprised no one had thought about it before. But I suppose dentistry wasn¡¯t exactly profitable when a minor cure wounds could fix any toothache you had. ¡°Thank you for the wonderful meal Marnie.¡± I say. She smiles a hand on her hip. ¡°It ain¡¯t a problem at all.¡± She replies. I stand from the table, Thelia shadowing me. I get to my room, and stand outside the door. ¡°Uhm goodnight Thelia.¡± I say, and open the door a crack to slip in. Her foot catches the door, and I swear under my breath. ¡°Dragon Slayer Jonathan, it is my duty as your pledge to protect you at all times.¡± She swings the door open. Once in the room, she sits down in a chair in the corner. I let out a sigh. ¡°I need to get ready for bed.¡± I tell her. ¡°You know change into something more comfortable.¡± I continues, she doesn''t react. ¡°I am going to take my clothes off, would you look away. Please?¡± She blinks at me. ¡°Why?¡± She asks. I let out a sigh. ¡°Because it¡¯s awkward, and embarrassing for me.¡± Thelia doesn¡¯t say anything, but just raises her hands up in front of her eyes. ¡°Thank you.¡± I say, and swiftly change clothing. ¡°You can remove your hands now.¡± I tell Thelia. She drops her hands, and leans back in the chair. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you are being so embarrassed by it. It¡¯s has a good size, average.¡± Thelia says. I flush red. ¡°HEY! You weren''t supposed to look.¡± Thelia shrugs. ¡°I¡¯ve seen naked men, and women before. You shouldn¡¯t get bothered by it.¡± She raises a hand to her mouth, and yawns. She unfastens some leather straps from around her shoulders, and legs. She removes the light leather armor she is wearing. This isn¡¯t MMO armor either. But the proper gear made to protect the points you don¡¯t want to be stabbed. She is actually much smaller looking without her armor on. A rough woolen shirt and pants the only thing underneath. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Her arms look dry, and the green skin is cracked along her joints. I pull a pocket sized bottle of hand lotion out of my bag and throw it at her. She catches it easily. ¡°It¡¯s called lotion you rub a small amount, and I mean only a drop or two, onto your skin where it¡¯s dry. It makes it softer, and smoother. It''s good for your skin.¡± She clicks the lid up, and raises it to her nose. She recoils slightly due to the strong smell, but with another sniff I think she likes the smell. ¡°It¡¯s like what those human lords, or nobles wear sometimes isn¡¯t it made of flowers runoff, and animal fats.¡± She says. I shrug. ¡°Kinda that''s perfume, this one is scented by the stuff put inside of it. It¡¯s shea butter which is a paste made from a plant.¡± I tell her. She nods, and takes a small amount and rubs it on her skin. Her hairs stand on end, and I can see goosebumps run up her arm. ¡°Keep rubbing it until you can¡¯t see it, and your skin is kinda shiny.¡± She does as told, and repeats the process with the other arm. She motions to toss it back to me. ¡°Don¡¯t worry you can keep it. I have another.¡± I lift a second one from my pack. I could figure out how to make more, eventually. I put mine back into the bag, and, tuck it under the bed. I climb onto the bed, and under the blankets. ¡°Well goodnight Thelia.¡± Loud snoring is my only reply. Maybe I should get a silence spell for Thelias tooth. I turn over, and let sleep take me. I awaken in the white space. Large steps lead to a platform, upon which rests an elegant white couch inlaid with gold, and gems. Marylin Monroe lays on the couch in pristine white furs feeding herself grapes. ¡°This is the life isn¡¯t it. You just have so much to draw from. Lust, greed, wrath, gluttony, envy, sloth, and pride. Your world is absolutely filled with it.¡± I let out a sigh. ¡°So what you can read my mind? Look over my entire past?¡± I ask the staff. It tilts his head. ¡°Not exactly, I can feel images, and pictures small glimpses of memory, and emotion. I knit them all together in a web that I use to interpret what you see or feel. I could if I wanted try and rebuild your memory from the ground up, but it would take centuries with everything you have seen.¡± The staff pops another bunch of grapes into its mouth. ¡°I thought you were a gluttony elemental? Shouldn¡¯t you be more gluttonous, like your previous form.¡± I ask. ¡°Gluttony elemental, hah, yeah sure those are a thing. No I¡¯m a spirit. Like spirits of earth, trees, bodies of water. I was a spirit of hunger. Spirits can change however. And binding me to the staff made my form a little more malleable. I¡¯d always been that single minded dull beast, but now OH BABY I can do so much more.¡± She wiggles her eyebrows at me, and touches herself lightly. I avert my eyes. ¡°Aww don¡¯t be such a prude. You don¡¯t even knoo~oow how good this feels. Only having one emotion. Suddenly it¡¯s a whole spectrum, at least a 600% increase in emotions. Flash, Bang, Alakazam.¡± She explains, I pout. ¡°Really quoting Nat King Cole at me.¡± Staff practically leaps from the sofa, clapping her hands in glee. ¡°And don¡¯t even get me started on music. Fuck the slow ballroom music, give me EDM, House, or Metal, it¡¯s just so raw.¡± She walks down the steps her clothes changin. The pristine white turning into a black top that barely covers her breasts, and booty shorts that stay together by sheer willpower. Her skin tans, and her hair grows longer, losing its volume, and turning brown. She slaps her own ass, ¡°Don¡¯t you wanna pound this tight little thing.¡± She licks her lip. ¡°Please don¡¯t ever do it again, I feel violated within my soul.¡± I reply. She pouts. ¡°Not even just a little.¡± She holds her fingers up in front of me, barely any space between them. I shake my head. She throws her hand up in the air. ¡°Why¡¯d the one person who wouldn¡¯t want to bang the shapeshifting mental construct with no chance of getting prego have to come here.¡± She exclaims. Her form shifts into a large man, scars and tattoos covering his arms. ¡°How about a fight I¡¯m feeling kinda angry now.¡± The staff says it¡¯s voice dropping a few octaves. ¡°Or we could talk about how amazing I am.¡± She transforms into that Marylin Monroe again, wearing an elegant dress, and covered in jewelry. ¡°Or we could talk about plans to get more items and artifacts, I could help with that.¡± She grabs my arm and loops it with hers. Her clothing changes once more her hair becomes disheveled. Her eyelids droop, and her dress turns into sweatpants and a hoodie. Two mismatched slippers on her feet ¡°We could take a nap together.¡± I feel something tugging on my consciousness, i can tell.I¡¯m gonna wake up soon. ¡°We can continue this little talk later. Maybe drill some virtues into you.¡± I say to the staff. The staff grabs onto my chest with pleading eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t go¡­¡± Her clothes become haggard, her eyes sullen, and her body emaciated. ¡°Please don¡¯t go¡­¡± She whimpers, and I wake up. Chapter 28- Raw Light filters in through the window, and onto my eyelids. I sit up, and rub the sleep from my eyes with a yawn. A faint huffing sound catches my attention. I look over and see Thelia is not in her chair, but instead doing situps on the floor naked. I shield my eyes. ¡°I didn¡¯t see anything nope not at all.¡± I face the other way. And get out of bed. ¡°What''s wrong don¡¯t tell me you¡¯ve never seen a woman naked before?¡± Thelia says. I can hear the floorboards creaking as she gets up. ¡°You have my blood oath if you ev-" ¡°I will cut you off right there, that is not at all the problem. I have seen plenty of naked women.¡± ¡°Oh! Have you now?¡± She interjects her voice full of mirth. ¡°I-I am going to get changed, and then go to Lily, and request a cot, and a get a short wooden divider so we can change, or do your nude exercises without bothering the other one.¡± I start to undress, and put on other clothes. When the door swings open. ¡°Jonathan here is your phone artifact, I forgot to give it back the other-" Anise stops. She looks at me, then towards Thelia, then back at me. ¡°Oh okay.¡± She says. She places the phone on the table next to the door, then closes the door. I hop towards the door while pulling my pants on. I swing open the door, and hop into the hallway. Finally straightening my pants out. Anise is is at the bottom of the stairs. I hurry down them, and grab her arm. ¡°It isn¡¯t what it looks like.¡± I tell her. ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything.¡± She replies. ¡°Yeah, but you were thinking it.¡± I say. ¡°Really it¡¯s none of my business.¡± She cuts in. I let out a sigh. ¡°I did not have sexual relations with that woman. She made a blood pledge, oath thing to me. And has been hovering around me ever since. I haven¡¯t gone to the bathroom since yesterday afternoon, because she would probably follow me in there.¡± Now that I think about it my sessions with Anise would either need to be explained, or I would need to get really good at stealth. ¡°Now I¡¯ll treat you to a cup of coffee, I mean tinkerbrew.¡± I smile, and pat her shoulder. ¡°You mean that bitter black tea?¡± I put my hand to my chin in thought. ¡°Yeah, I guess it is a type of tea.¡± I wave my hand. ¡°Regardless it will wake you up.¡± I pull up to a table, a barmaid is already walking over coffee in hand for me. ¡°Can you bring a pitcher filled with tinkerbrew out, a second pitcher with milk, and sugar or honey. Also two empty mugs.¡± I tell her. The barmaid gives me an odd look, but nods and walks back into the kitchen. Thelia sits down beside me. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have gone so far away.¡± She says, and strains out her shirt, her leather gear is sitting beside her on the floor. ¡°Well why were you exercising in the buff?¡± I retort. She gives me an odd look. ¡°Your birthday suit. In the Raw. Bare ass naked. Sheesh do you people know what context clues are?¡± I sigh in exasperation. ¡°Well to answer you,¡± Thelia replies. ¡°Prestidigitation doesn¡¯t remove sweat well. I didn¡¯t want to smell to badly, or use a bunch of the energy in the cleaning wand.¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°I will accept that answer.¡± I raise my cup to my lips. Coffee always calmed me down, the caffeine didn¡¯t help, but the action was calming. Shortly afterward a barmaid brought out the hot coffee, and milk with a small dish of sugar cubes. I poured milk and coffee into the cups at around a four to one parts ratio, respectively. And dropped two sugar cubes in one, and none in the other. I gave each a quick stir, and that was that. I handed Anise the mug with two sugar cubes, and Thelia the cup with no sugar. Anise took a tentative sip. I could tell the minute that the warm radiated in her chest. Her face relaxed, and her cheeks turned rosey. She took another sip, and melted into her chair. Thelia was different. She took a casual sip, and now the coffee wasn¡¯t so bitter. She finished the cup in two gulps, and poured another cup for herself. I slam my hand over her cup. ¡°Stop, relax yourself. Caffeine, which is a big part of coffee, or tinkerbrew, is addictive. It¡¯s also classified as a drug, so pace yourself. You don¡¯t want to go through withdrawal when you lose access to it.¡± I lift my hand away from her mug. I didn¡¯t think now was the best time to tell her tea also has caffeine in it. She didn¡¯t immediately go back to chugging her drink. Thelia swirls her mug in her hands. ¡°You hadn¡¯t had it for a while, why were you not going through withdrawal?¡± Thelia asks me. ¡°I¡¯ve been drinking this stuff since I was, what, 12? 13? I¡¯m all, but immune to it. I don¡¯t even get the burst of energy that you should start feeling soon, just an elevated heart rate. Like many people from my home.¡± I chuckle a little, ¡°It¡¯s funny actually. Did you know, well obviously you don¡¯t, but there are franchises, uhhh like a single store that has a bunch of different stores that it all owns and they all sell the same stuff, that are almost entirely centered around selling this stuff.¡± I explain to them. ¡°That''s the biggest challenge,¡± I grimace. ¡°We, errr my home, has a franchise for everything. Toys, books, furniture, food, clothing, weapons, household appliances, adult entertainment,¡± I emphasize that last part by performing the universal hand gesture for sex, ¡°and everything in between. And more than 90 percent of it is made in factories, by giant machines. Imagine a building 200-feet tall, more than a mile wide, and double that long, filled with something similar to golems. These golems are just arms and they perform only one task, but 100s upon 100s of these things exist, in 100s upon 100s of these plants. And all they do 14 hours a day is produce whatever anybody wants.¡± I lift up the mug in front of me it¡¯s rough from years of use, but the craftsmanship is solid. ¡°It took someone probably 12 years to learn how to make a mug this perfect. A factory could make a billion of these mugs in a week and every single one of them would be exactly the same, with more precise cuts, and smoother sides. And you could buy 50 of them for maybe a silver, but probably less.¡± I pause and look up at Thelia, and Anise. They both stare at me a worried look in their eyes. ¡°How many is one billion?¡± Thelia asks. I retrieve some paper from my bag. I scribble down the number one on the paper. ¡°This is one,¡± I add a zero to the end. ¡°This is 10, then one hundred.¡± I write down three more zeroes. ¡°100 thousand,¡± three zeroes after that. ¡°100 million,¡± I put the final zero on. ¡°One billion. that is who we are fighting. A country with the ability to make a billion cups in a week, within a single factory, and that factory is identical to a thousand other factories doing the same thing. Before I left we hit the 10 billion mark. 10 BILLION people live on my home plane.¡± Thelia audibly gulps. I laugh aloud. ¡°I would put it out of your mind for now. My home has no magic, and the best of us grow up hearing legends about beautiful elven queens, and the mighty orcs. A huge section of our culture is devoted to it. I¡¯m sure that many people would be more than happy to jump at the chance to throw fire,¡± a cringey smile spreads across my face. ¡°I¡¯m also positive brothels will be packed with eager men ready to get their rocks off to a muscly orc, dainty elf, perhaps even a goblin gang. Like I said adult entertainment.¡± Anise chokes on her drink. ¡°Heh, heh. You are joking right, surely no one would enjoy being assaulted.¡± I cringe again, ¡°They wouldn¡¯t enjoy it they would love it.¡± I shrug, ¡°some people are into that kinda stuff.¡± Anise looks like she is going to be sick. ¡°So what are you into then?¡± Thelia elbows me, quick to pick up on any physical gesture. ¡°Settling down, and having a family with a woman I love.¡± I reply. Thelias face strains like she can¡¯t tell if I¡¯m serious, or not. Anise snorts with laughter. ¡°Hey why don¡¯t we all take a trip to the cave in a few days. I have some¡­ magical research to do.¡± I tell Thelia, and Anise. ¡°We have a Tank, a healer, and DPS. We can pack light, and get there in a few days, I can take my readings and then we can come back. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.¡± A quick trip there and back spend two days writing information down at the portal, and downloading encyclopedias. What could go wrong? Chapter 29- Who? *CRACK* Wood snaps behind me, and thick lumbering steps shake the trees. Dew rains down around me, and I cover my mouth with my hands. I hear the damn thing huffing nearby. It sniffs the ground. Pawing here and there, with its sharp claws. I breathe in, and out slowly trying and failing to calm myself. ¡°RRRRAAAAUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO¡± It vocalizes shaking around me. I can feel it reconnect with the ground. It shakes everything nearby, damn near the whole forest is alerted to its presence. It doesn¡¯t care though. This is an apex predator of apex predators. It goes quiet for a moment. Then a claw goes streaking down inches from my head shattering the log I¡¯m hiding behind. ¡°RRRRAAAAAAUUUOOOOO¡± I stumble, and take off sprinting. I don''t bother to look behind me I know it follows. Its footsteps shake the ground behind me. It doesn¡¯t matter what I run through, over, or around. It''s like being chased by a truck, it shatters any, and all debris in its path. I shake the staff in my hand. ¡°NOW WOULD BE A REALLY GOOD TIME TO ACTIVATE YOU HUSSY.¡± I shout at it, with no response. I vault over a log, and hear it shatter behind me. Thick, hot breaths practically on my neck. I see a break in the trees, white light practically blinding me. With nowhere else to run I kick it into overdrive. I take a step out of the forest, and am falling. A 12-foot drop below me, the ground races to meet me, and I can hear the thing skid to a halt, as dirt tumbles over the edge. ¡°RRRAAAUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" It cries. I hit the ground, and bounce. I suck in a breath, and pain flares in my chest. My legs are fine though. I hobble forward out of the small clearing and to the next set of trees. I cough blood onto my sleeve. ¡°RRRRRAAAUUUOOOOOOOOOOO" The beast calls again, fucking abomination. I lean against a tree and cough up more blood. I had to make it back. Thelia, and Anise were waiting for me. When the damned monster came after us we split up ¡°RRRAAAUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" It called again. It was farther this time, but it had my scent now, it would find me. If we were all together maybe we could take it. Now we knew it was here, knew it was waiting, but we were in its territory. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ¡°Thelia we have something to confess.¡± I started, Anise and I had shared hushed whispers with each other for five days, two on the road, and three at the cave while I wrote down, and downloaded information. I¡¯d been fired from my job, had nearly 500 missed calls. And my father''s lawyer has been trying to get incontact with me for the past week. Even so far as sending my steam account messages. I emailed him back. Hey Reggie, Sorry, I haven¡¯t been in contact, but something happened, and I¡¯ve been reevaluating what I know. I am on a trip, and don¡¯t know when I will be able to return. Cancel all of my subscriptions to everything except my cell phone bill, and buy the building at the coordinates I¡¯ll send you later. I should have a couple 100 million dollars in the bank, from my father. Make sure that my ownership is airtight. By the pipe system underneath from the government if you have to. If people give you shit for it I will just give you my account information. I¡¯ll be able to contact you for the next few days, but I¡¯m not sure after that. Tell my father hello, and that I might be close to forgiving him. From your favorite client, Jonathan Johnson The coordinates I sent Reggie were to where the portal was located. Apparently some abandoned subway station in the middle of nowhere Queens, New York. Reggie was thankful I finally replied, but not to happy about my impulsiveness. He agreed to my demands though, and said ¡°I¡¯ll do the best I can."If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°So¡­. What are you going to confess?¡± Thelia asks. ¡°Well you see Anise-" I start, but am quickly cut off. ¡°I¡¯m a necromancer.¡± I chuckle dryly, ¡°I prefer the term alternative summoning.¡± Thelia scratches her cheek, ¡°That makes sense, I just thought you two were fucking. Guess I owe Rogue some money.¡± Anise blushes furiously, ¡°You thought what? I would- I mean- You-.¡± She storms off somewhere else, now upset. Thelia bursts into laughter. I let out a sigh. ¡°Why don¡¯t you go for it? The tension, is that the right word, the sexual tension between you is so thick I could cut it with scissors.¡± Thelia says. I wave my hand. ¡°I can¡¯t I have someone else.¡± I tell her. My face must have changed because she looks upset now. ¡°This someone else is not around any longer is she?¡± Thelia asks. I open my mouth to reply, but just shake my head. She sits down, and lean her back up against me. ¡°Dwarves are like that.¡± She says. ¡°They mate for life, and they live very long lives. Almost as long as elves.¡± She waves her hands in the air. ¡°That''s how this whole Orc-Dwarf thing started near half a century ago. A dwarf, and orc fell in love, shortly after for a dwarf, 15 years, the dwarf died. The orc took her time to mourn and, as orcs do, she found someone new. She spent 10 years in mourning unheard of for an orc. But the dwarves expected her to remain as such for her whole life.¡± Thelia picked up a rock, and shattered it. ¡°You see orcs believe that the soul is split up, and divided between multiple people of many races. And when those souls meet they fall in love. So when one person dies they take on the soul from the person they loved, then you move on and find the next person. And when someone finds all pieces of the soul they can move onto the afterlife once and for all. They can live with each of their loves for all of time.¡± She lets out a sigh. ¡°Dwarves took it as an insult however, and started a petty war over it. How long have you waited, how long since your soul was joined.¡± She pats my shoulder reassuringly. ¡°Almost 11 years.¡± I say hoarsely. My staff hums slightly. ¡°Come tell me about her. Get it off your chest. I can tell the pain of heartbreak when I see it.¡± Thelia says. I wipe off my eyes. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± ¡°Come now don¡¯t be like that,¡± Thelia replies. ¡°Tell me about her.¡± She insists. ¡°No, I¡¯m fine seriously.¡± I tell her. ¡°Hey it¡¯s okay. I¡¯m your blood oath your secrets are my secrets.¡± Thelia urges ¡°Lay off, I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡± I snap. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for your blood oath, so fuck off.¡± I turn my attention back to the task at hand, copying out the process for refining beets into sugar. ¡°Hey guys what¡¯s this?¡± Anise calls. I roll up the paper and return it to the scroll case. Anise is crouched on the ground looking at something on the floor, a long feather. The feather was near the length of my arm, and brown and black. ¡°It¡¯s a feather a strong wind probably blew it in here.¡± I reply. ¡°Looks like an eagle feather maybe.¡± ¡°Do you think it¡¯s a drale?¡± Anise whispers. Thelia laughs, ¡°Drales were hunted off these lands a long time ago. Maybe in giant territory you could find some. But we are to far away. I have to agree with Jonathan it¡¯s probably just some eagle.¡± *Tink* The metal disc inside our time candle drops. ¡°Well we should probably head to bed now, I¡¯ll finish writing the rest of this one passage down, and we can leave tomorrow.¡± Watches were fairly simple, and nothing happened out of the ordinary. We ate some simple porridge for breakfast, and I finished beet sugar refinement. I had that written down, along with how to refine rubber, and how to pasteurize milk. I also bought a few how it¡¯s made ebooks, and downloaded them. How engines worked, some more detail on the printing press, and firearms, a history book about the cotton gin, and sewing too. I also stealth downloaded a few movies. Castaway, LoTRs, all of them, and the princess bride. The walk out of the tunnel was uneventful, Anise had kept the feather. It was tucked into her hair now. I had tied her sandy blonde hair into a bun, and tucked the feather into it. We had a brief lunch at the main chamber where Waylax was. Thelia hadn¡¯t asked why it wasn¡¯t filled with poisonous gas like I claimed, or where he and his ¡®hoard¡¯ had gone, which was fine by me. As we left a thick smell hit our noses. The smell of bile, and blood. Thelia tensed, and put on her caestus. Anise readied her mace. I held my staff over my shoulder like a baseball bat. It was a blood bath outside. Something that had at one point resembled a deer was torn to shreds. Blood covered the ground, bones were smashed to bits, and bits of meat were everywhere. ¡°RRRRR" Something growled, it dropped from the mountain face above. 700-pounds of fur, feather, claws, and beak descended upon us. Anise shouted something, but another one of it¡¯s roars drowned it out. We sprinted down the mountain path. The beast lumbering towards us. It yelps and with a loud thud it falls over. Sliding down the slope while we sprint away. It¡¯s not down for long, and is back on our heels shortly. ¡°SPLIT UP, AND MEET BACK ON THE PATH TO TOWN. WE CAN¡¯T FIGHT IT NOW.¡± Thelia shouts. If we stopped at all it would kill us. Its claws ready, and waiting to strike. We each took off in different directions. I however was the unlucky one. The one this monstrosity followed. Chapter 30- In a name I stumbled over a rock, my staff moved on its own and caught me though. I leaned on it, and coughed up more blood. I was doing my best to catch it all on my sleeve. I was pretty sure I had punctured a lung, but I really didn¡¯t know. ¡°You can do it,¡± a hallucination of Izzies voice whispered into my ears, or it might have been the staff. I don''t know which one was better. As I walked the staff never seemed to find a shaky spot, a slippery rock, or loose ground. Any time my staff struck the ground I leaned on it with confidence. I paused to cough up more blood. It was getting harder to breathe. ¡°RRRRRRRAAAAAAAUUUUUOOOOOOOOOO" I heard in the distance it was faint, but it was coming. I could feel it in my stomach. The staff was getting more aggressive in its directions, or I was just getting weaker. Both were probably true. It guided me through the forest. I pause to cough and the thing near jumps out of my hand. ¡°Cal-calm down. I¡¯m not doing so hot.¡± I say, I take a step forward. ¡°Perhaps I should give you a name.¡± I tell the staff. ¡°Crystal, cheap stripper name just your style, only problem is the lack of crystals on you. You¡¯d only get offended with a name like Staffy.¡± I step over a large rock. ¡°Perhaps we should start with mytha then. Caduceus was a staff wielded by the god Hermes in greek mythology. Merlins staff was wielded by, well Merlin, the greatest wizard in my world, and this one too apparently.¡± I tell the staff. The air is pierced with another roar, louder this time. ¡°RRRRRRAAAAAAAUUUUUUUOOOOO¡± I cough, and wipe the dribble of blood from my lips. ¡°Then Prosperos staff, wow most staves seemed to be named after their master. Regardless that staff was made from a branch of the tree of knowledge. You look kinda like that. The staff of Knowledge? No you are right no good.¡± I lean up against a tree, and take short shaky breaths. I slump forward a little. ¡°You are almost there don¡¯t give up,¡± the voice says again. I straighten myself, and take another step forward. ¡°Almost there, almost there, almost there.¡± I sharply intake a breath, and my vision blackens momentarily. I¡¯m lying on the ground my staff a few inches from me. ¡°RRRRRAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUOOOOO" I grab the staff, and stand. My chest throbs with pain, threatening to overtake me. In the distance I hear loud crashing. I quicken my pace. I see a small break in the tree line ahead of me. The crashing grows louder. ¡°RRRRAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOOO" It calls. I step forward into the clearing. Noticing the shrine I had built nearly a week ago. Around it a small village had been erected. And by small I mean the huts are no larger than my shin in height. The inhabitants, small racoons, all turn and look at me, before dashing into their homes. They screech in fear? Surprise? Their little noses, and eyes stare at me through windows, and doorways of their huts. I stumble forward, ignoring them. I collapse in front of the shrine, and cough blood onto its base. The words seem to pop into my head. ¡°I pray to you spirit of mulched earth, and dead leaves. Of a cooling rain, and warm breeze. Of muddy ground, and rocky soil. Of barren trees, and vines that coil. A monster comes with bloodied claws, with browned feathers, and heavy paws.¡± The warm breeze blowing, pauses and a number leaves fall from the tall trees around the clearing. A beaming ray of sunshine now hits the shrine. ¡°RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" the creature calls. With a thunderous crash it bursts through the treeline. It stares at me with wide reddish eyes. The raccoon creatures let out chittering cries. The creature stomped closer. Casually smashing the huts. I grit my teeth, and bubble up my draconic energy inside myself. I feel myself pull enough for a thunderbolt, but I pull more and more and more. I feel like I¡¯m about to pop, and the air around me sparks and crackles with electricity. The Owlbear falters for the first time. Its forward paw, pulling back, with a subdued growl. A large arc of electricity erupts from my shoulder, and scores a massive mark across the ground. I pull more of power from within, and then lift my hands to the owlbear and let it out. I see for a split second the bolt connect with the Owlbear. Then I¡¯m blind, my ears are ringing, I feel my body touch the ground, and I hadn''t even realized I was in the air. I slide to a stop against a tree, or large rock. My ears are still ringing. I feel the ground around me, and shakily stand to my feet. After a few moments my vision returns.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. It¡¯s a testament to Owlbear physiology that it¡¯s still alive. It lets out a pained whining noise, and convulses. A large blackened scorch mark across its body, where the electricity burned away it¡¯s feathers and fur. A sudden sharp pain hits me all at once, and I double over vomiting blood, and mucus. I close my eyes and breath out heavily, I feel the staff touch my hand. Its right beside my hand when I open my eyes. I use it to stand, and keep myself upright. The Owlbear twitches, and convulses on the ground. Its long rough tongue lolling around. I stumble over to the Owlbear, and grab a hand of its fur. With the rest of the power inside of me, I discharge. Smoke curls up from my hands, and the Owlbear convulses beneath me. Letting out pained choked cries, interrupted only when the electricity causes its throat to contract in odd ways. I channel for what feels, like five minutes. I¡¯m not even sure if the Owlbear is alive after the first 10 seconds, but that doesn¡¯t stop me. I collapse backwards. The scent of charred flesh fills the air around me. ¡°YOU FUCKING IDIOT.¡± I look around the white space, must¡¯ve blacked out. Staff is standing looking angry, like some 50¡¯s trophy wife movie star who caught her famous husband cheating on her with a younger movie star. Staff throws a conjured golden bowl at me, then an apple. ¡°IT''S AN OWLBEAR WHY DID YOU SPLIT UP?¡± Staff throws a bunch of grapes at me. ¡°UGGGGHHHHH, there''s a reason Owlbears are called mage hunters. Release a bunch of War Owlbears on a field, and sure as the sun is yellow that they go after the mages. If I didn¡¯t know any better I would say Thelia was trying to get you killed splitting up like that.¡± I pick up the apple from the floor, brush it off and take a bite. It¡¯s nice crisp, and juicy. ¡°So why am I in here? Does any type of sleep pull me in, or do I have to focus. Still not sure on the rules.¡± I ask Staff. Staff flops backwards onto her couch, ¡°No I forcefully dragged you into here. You won¡¯t feel the pain, and I can increase the healing process by about 10%.¡± I take another bite of the apple, ¡°So given any thought to a name? Calling you Staff is all well and good, but I assume you want something else.¡± She gives me a wry smile,¡°Yes I have been giving it some thought. I like Ebony.¡± A fresh bowl of fruit appears beside her, and she casually plucks grapes, and eats them. ¡°Not too strippery, but just strippery enough it¡¯s good, suits you.¡± I reply, ¡°Soooooo¡­ How long am I gonna stay in here?¡± She waves her hand, ¡°You could leave right now, but the pain would be pretty intense. Better to just let the healing do it¡¯s thing. Plus you have god watchers outside, and they are pretty friendly¡­. Most of the time. They¡¯ll keep you alive.¡± I scratch my head, ¡°You mean the little raccoon guys?¡± ¡°Yes, although I wouldn¡¯t call them that to their faces. They haven¡¯t been around for quite some time. They are a peculiar brand of fey, most consider them a force of nature more than anything else. Neither good or evil, they serve one goal, and one goal only. That is to help young gods. I hadn¡¯t realized one had been birthed, but I assume Silence will becoming along shortly to cull it.¡± I sit back, and BB seems to pop into existence beneath me keeping me sitting proper. Ebony raises an eyebrow, but doesn¡¯t say anything. ¡°What is Silences deal anyhow? What is he the god of?¡± I ask. Ebony shifts uncomfortably. ¡°Well that''s a hard question to answer. Silence is not a god of anything. That doesn¡¯t mean he is the god of nothing, or the void. He has no pantheon, well the closest thing he has to a pantheon is assassination, or execution. Silence is the one string of thread keeping everything together. Gods used to pop up, and drop like flies. Then Silence became sentient, and it stopped. He spent a 1000 years of reflection in the remains of the citadel of infinite knowledge, or so it¡¯s said. And then new gods started dropping, first one, then five, then 10, 50, 100, 200, and so on. Then he started taking preventative measures, tens of thousands of mortals, demigods, and fledgling gods, all dead. The wars in the higher planes stopped. Its like that cold war thing in your world. Sides can¡¯t risk the gods they ally with dying, so they push the mortal realms like pieces on the board.¡± In front of Ebony, a large map with hexagonal tiles overlaid appears. Little pieces with many different colours cover the board. Largish reliefs of varying figures appear on the board. A wrinkled looking corpse, I assume is Volen. A one eyed woman, holding a tome, Helon. A long bearded dwarf with two hands cast in metal, An Orc with several different heads melded into one. A stout tree, with an elf growing out of it. Smaller reliefs dot the sides, overlapping, and blending colours. A hairy creature holding a bloodied axe, a tree with a mouth, and dozens more. A single piece made of glass appears in her hand. ¡°And then there was you. A piece that shouldn¡¯t exist yet present all the same. Infinite power, but no power at all. I¡¯m under no illusion that your arrival through that portal into a cave no divinity would dare go, besides Silence, is a coincidence. It seems like he has finally decided to play.¡± The board shifts slightly. And a glass figure appears on the side, no colours blend with his. A large mantis like creature with a spider abdomen, and a hundred different hands sprouting behind him. ¡°You seem to be pretty knowledgeable for a staff.¡± Ebony shrugs, ¡°You pick up on a thing, or two over the centuries. I¡¯ve been loaned out before, then the big lizard would kinda just hoover the information out of me.¡± I recline in the chair, ¡°So what do we do now, and no I am not having sex with you. Do I kinda just wait until you give me the all clear to wake up?¡± Ebony nods her head, ¡°yeah pretty much. Soul spaces this young have bad time compression so it will be much faster than you think. About 12 hours by my estimate.¡± I raise an eyebrow, ¡°Is that why it feels like time is passing faster when I¡¯m here? Because of inefficient time compression?¡± Ebony nods her head. That actually made sense, but didn¡¯t that mean I could eventually make a thousand hours pass in here, and a second outside? ¡°Before you ask, you can¡¯t artificially increase the efficiency. While your soul has an extremely large breadth, and accuracy. Only time, and age can increase your souls efficiency. People who have tried to artificially expand ones soul, are granted one mercy, a quick death.¡± Ebony tells me. I stand up, and toss the apple core away, ¡°I¡¯m going to do some creativity training then. Let me know when I''m good to go.¡± I walk off, willing some tall hedges to spring into existence around me. I twist and turn the hedges forming ahead of me as I plot my path. The hedges fade into a forest, filled with thicket. I thread my way along a less traveled path and into a tranquil glade. Flowers bloom along the trees edge, and tall grasses grow up to my waist. I stomp a patch down, and sit on the matted grass. Charting out the labyrinth in my head. Chapter 31- Reflection I began meditating on how I wanted the maze to expand outward. I spent maybe half an hour on branching pathways before boredom started to sink in. I decided that I would try some creativity exercises. I conjured an easel, and paper, and a set of pencils. Thinking up some magitech could be fun, and useful. A water purification plant full of Wizards taking sample, casting purify food and drink, and create and destroy water. A number of decanters of endless water filling the whole thing up. Even using decanters of endless water to make a water wheel that could power a city for free. In shoddy drawings I scribble the idea down. Perhaps a magical item that casts thunderbolt constantly hooking that up to a capacitor, and subsequently a power grid. For a long time everything will be extremely pricey, but if standardized education, which I will be implementing to the best of my ability, succeeds having 100s of wizards running around should be a boon, especially if they can make magic items. I was never much of a artist, but I¡¯m the only one who will ever see this work. It looks like something straight out of a Madman''s journal. I should definitely stick to technical drawings. I flip the page, and draw the rough shape of the current town. It''s a bit like an oval, but the bottom, towards the mountain, is flattened out. The constabulary is in a fairly central location. No outlying farms to worry about, as much of the nutrition comes from dragon eyes. A few people keep cows, sheep, and pigs though. Chickens are frowned upon for some reason. I¡¯ll have to ask. The roads are a criss crossy mess, one point even has a 10 way intersection. I¡¯d like to make it more orderly, like New York. A well planned out city with an easy to navigate system. The problem is it¡¯s a lot of work, and by the time word really starts to get out and builders start to come other nasty things will start to hear as well. I shake my head, now isn¡¯t the time to worry about such things. The orcs are coming as are the kobolds. I believe I can trust the orcs. The kobolds are like a musket however, you just need to pull the trigger and pray to god it hits the wall you are aiming at. It¡¯s a risk for the kobolds to learn about advanced arms, but all of their designs will be going through my crafters as well. I just need to get them to kick their sadism. I don''t want to shoulder them with to much of trust though. That could lead to a power swell. But hmmm. If i could channel their sadistic tendencies. Maybe promote them to a secret police type of role. The Kestapo, or Kobold State Protection Force, a black ops type deal. Trained in torture, many forms of combat, and survival. That could work. I don¡¯t exactly have a use for them currently. I¡¯m not in a war, yet. I suppose the underdark is a safe place to send them. Maybe an initial expeditionary force, and them second. Actually I could probably send them as recruiters to various other kobold tribes couldn¡¯t I. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Thinking on it could I not just recruit other monsters? While a game had alignments lawful and chaotic, evil and good. Real life wasn¡¯t so beholden to those. I might stray away from monsters with a penchant for eating people. But building my own dungeon within the mountain, should be interesting. The kobolds to mine out the stone, and monsters live inside. Perhaps I shouldn¡¯t call them monsters, or sub humans, even demi-humans. I need something with a more positive connotation. Sentients might be for the best, I¡¯d have to ask around. Even the hardest of sentients could appreciate a comfort filled life. Hidden passageways that lead to living quarters, and 8 hour shifts for patrolling guards. Could even have a stronger individual as a boss. Obviously though I would place the strongest individuals directly at the entrance. Kill invaders before they have a chance to get stronger. And if I work to make an adventurers guild, I could have them train inside, and go recruit other monsters for a premium. I draw the rough outline, the first floor a 3 story maze, that loops back into itself. It could take forever to build, but we had kobolds on our side. Everything seemed to have a certain respect for dragons, why shouldn¡¯t monstrous humanoids. Gorgons, Yuan-ti, The kobolds obviously, Drow to some extent, Duergar, Cyclops, Minotaur, Harpy, Lamia. All seemed like viable options. I paced back, and forth while it seemed maybe a little intense to demonize the earth governments, it was a worst case scenario option. A taste of real magic would have scientists and their backers salivating, so I had to get ahead of the curve. Maybe before the initial confrontation I¡¯ll get patents for spell patterns, just to fuck with them. Use their own laws against them, I chuckle thinking about it. Honestly I almost expect some George Orwell type shit to form initially. I however will be there to step in and offer scrying protection, etcetera. Maybe a little mean of me, but I¡¯m not going to turn down easy cash if I can make it. I should probably also try and figure out how to perform soil tests for oil. That should turn a nice profit as well. I could also put some research into sugar beets. Food has diffused between lots of places, probably because of a supercontinent with multiple habitats. The only problem is winter is coming around so plants won¡¯t be growing, plus the giants. It¡¯ll be another 4 or 5 months yet. I look around, I¡¯m kinda out of stuff to do. With almost eight hours left on the clock, I think the best course of action is to just meditate for the remaining time. BB comes up behind me and I sit back into letting my mind become blank once again as I focus on the energy within me. Chapter 32- Quilted I¡¯m not sure if I spent the remaining 8 hours productive or not. Most of the time I spent refining my casting if that made sense. Repeating the same spell over, and over. Smoothing out the kinks. I began to add additional things on. It felt strange as I worked. Like one part of me was leaving, or being replaced by another. First I tried to change the shape of the lightning. A 120 foot line of lightning was powerful but if I could change it to be slightly more manageable. Like a cylinder, cone, or ball that would be nice too. I wasn¡¯t always going to have a lot of space to work with, and people didn¡¯t walk single file towards others when attacking. Instead of firing the bolt from me why not form it upwards, and then have it strike from above. I could get people from behind walls, and other obstacles like that. It was easy casting the thunderbolt straight upwards. The hard part was getting it to come down again. It took a while to figure out, but instead of throwing the bolt up, I seeded the air. I released a cloud of static, and then willed the lightning to strike where I wanted. I had to use hand, gestures and screamed like some idiotic cartoon character, but it helped focus it I swear. Making a thunderball was similar. Release a cloud of static but keep it more tightly restrained. It was no more effort than the strike from above, I just had to apply force in different parts of the spell. Shaping spells began to become easier after that. A cage of lightning that electrocuted all those within. A cone of electricity. And a few more, all just varying degrees of control on the single spell I could cast. These were the effects of the mysterious metamagic. Metamagic didn¡¯t seem to even be a type of magic at all but instead an extra charge of magic in your spell that gave greater control over how it acted. Which was what I did to the Owlbear it seems like. I had moved onto some more experimentation when Ebony interrupted me. I was agitating the lightning I cast it was extremely draining, but I felt progress was being made. ¡°Tick Tock, Tick Tock.¡± Ebony calls, her voice echoes throughout the entire space. ¡°You¡¯ve got about 5 minutes of time in here before you awaken.¡± I stretch myself, and yawn. While my physical body has gotten rest my mind hasn¡¯t. I could probably go for another 8 hours of sleep right after this. I could feel my wits straining, especially because of the mental workout I was doing. I start a light jog through the maze. The walls shifting to open up small holes for me to go through, and closing behind me. Exit through a wall, and in front of Ebonys ¡®alter¡¯. ¡°Just gonna go back to staff form then?¡± I ask her. She waves her hand dismissively, ¡°Puh-lease, I just sit inside here all day, and relax. The staff is¡­ cramped for lack of a better term. Piggy backing off your soul is so much better.¡± ¡°Well as you don¡¯t mess anything up. Can you send me off a little early?¡± I ask. ¡°Are you sure? You are in a deep cycle of sleep right now, if you ¡°move" to your body well¡­ let''s say weird shit happens when you are fully conscious in a dream.¡± Ebony replies. ¡°I¡¯m sure it won¡¯t be a problem a brother of mine was into lucid dreaming. I was never successful, but I know about it.¡± I tell her. She shrugs. ¡°If you say so.¡± And with a flick of her wrist I¡¯m gone. I¡¯m blind for a few moments, that all encompassing white replaced with black. The fuzziness fades from my vision, and I look at the plane I¡¯m standing on. Like the opposite side of a coin. I notice a blemish, in the darkness and move towards it. My feet make an echoing sound along the floor. A garden with chest high hedges, and neat rows of blooming flowers. I hear the clink of china from the center. I walk along a cobbled path, and through an archway covered in flowering vines. Sitting at a table made of wrought iron is an old reptile like man. It looks like a larger version of a kobold, with the dragon features more pronounced. Inquisitive but tired, copper eyes. Scales chipped, and sagging slightly. Large ridges run over his brow. He glances at me and scans me like someone at a butchers market, would scan a cut of meat. He lifts a cup of tea to his lips and takes a sip, the strong aroma of chamomile wafting towards me. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I had a guest.¡± He says, his voice raspy but measured. ¡°Sit down enjoy some tea.¡± A second cup sits opposite him. A jade teapot, with a dragon carved into its side sits on the table. He pours me a cup, and i take it from him. ¡°It¡¯s been¡­¡± he counts on his fingers. Two extra digits appearing after he runs out of fingers on his hand. ¡°Nearly 28 years since I¡¯ve had company.¡± He leans backwards into the metal chair. ¡°Used to be so many of us here, but one by one they vanished. Now it is just I who sits here night after night reminiscing about the old times.¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. I sip the tea from the cup, it¡¯s very good. ¡°What happened to them?¡± I ask. His face briefly contorts into a glare at the darkness around us. ¡°Why a man who knew too much. That is what happened. He isn¡¯t here anymore, but you are. I wondered if I would be alive the next time someone joined this soul space, or whether I would focus the rest of my remaining life on making sure the garden did not grow derelict until an inheritor came.¡± I tilt my head questioningly. ¡°I thought the soul space was white?¡± The old dragonborn nods. ¡°Yes the personal soul space is white. This is the interpersonal soul space. The opposite side of the coin.¡± He lifts the pot from the table, revealing a diagram. A large circle with three smaller circles inside. Two of them glow, one a golden colour, the other an electric blue. The smaller ones never overlap. Although they touch each other. ¡°This is the soul,¡± He traces a claw around the outside of the large circle. ¡°and this is your own corner of it.¡± He taps the smaller circle. ¡°We share a soul, divided up into equal parts, and one of us dies that much more is allocated to the other souls.¡± ¡°So the orcs are right?¡± I ask. He chuckles. ¡°In part, in part. Our consciousness moves on, they think it assimilates.¡± He meshes his fingers together. I look back down at the table. ¡°What happens when no more parts, but one exist?¡± I ask. ¡°Well you have a god then.¡± he replies. He looks over me once more, a frown growing on his face. ¡°Hmph,¡± he groans in frustration ¡°Your soul is so marred, like an old pair of trousers, it¡¯s hard to tell what the actual bits are, and what''s the patchwork. That is to say, someone has been performing an exquisite soul surgery on you.¡± he pauses again. ¡°Interesting, interesting indeed. You could reach any number of soul spaces. 42 by my count, and that''s only counting the surface. You have the most material for this one though.¡± He takes another sip of the tea. ¡°It¡¯s beautifully done though. Like a quilt. Each patch has its place and all work to support each other. A shame though your soul will likely never ¡®grow¡¯ the pieces keep it young, and strong. The reapers will have a hell of a time with you.¡± He chuckles. I feel a faintness growing in my chest. ¡°Ah you are waking up then. Well best keep this conversation between us.¡± He puts a finger to his lips, and my eyes open. I feel sore all over. The smell of incense, and pungent herbs lingers in the room. Thelia sits in one corner. Spittle dripping out of her mouth, and down her face. She snorts loudly in her dream, and fusses for a bit. Anise sits at the foot of the bed fast asleep. Leaned over my legs. My arms feel heavy, and I lift them up revealing dark discoloration traveling all the way up to my shoulder. A large contiguous scar runs up each arm. Not identical, but you could clearly see they were from the same type of injury. Branching lines, like a tree with no leaves, run all the way to my fingertips. I looked like I had been struck by lightning. Which wasn¡¯t far from the truth. My arms didn¡¯t hurt, just sore like the rest of my body, and maybe a little sluggish. That may have been because I was in a coma for how long? I was in the soul space for 12 hours, then left had a brief second of darkness and I woke up. Maybe a day, and a half. I sit up or try to, but I¡¯m weak. When I put pressure on my arm it jerks suddenly and I collapse onto it. My arm spasms for a second more before stopping. Anise lifts her head up, and looks at me. She blinks once, and then realizing I¡¯m awake blinks again. ¡°Oh you¡¯re awake.¡± She reaches up, and slaps me across the face. ¡°If you die I¡¯m gonna bring you back, and kill you myself.¡± Anise says. The slap wakes up Thelia who reaches for a punching dagger at her side, and jumps into a fighting stance. She realizes nothing is wrong, and relaxes. ¡°Glad you¡¯re up, it was touch and go for a few days there.¡± Thelia says. ¡°You kept casting lightning magic in your sleep. It was lucky that the house you got was repaired. Struck the roof of the place a few times with lightning, no fires started though so it¡¯s fine. Same can¡¯t be said for some of the trees on the path from the mountain.¡± I stretch my arms out. ¡°Damn I feel so weak, how long have I been asleep? My muscles feel unworked.¡± ¡°Around six days.¡± Thelia replies. I blink. ¡°That long? It doesn¡¯t feel like it.¡± I move myself in the bed. Sitting up against the backboard. The mattress is straw, and my neck was laid at an awkward angle. So I have a crick in it. I twist my neck and crack it loudly, eliciting a grimace from Thelia, and Anise. ¡°Do you have some water, my throat is pretty dry." I didn¡¯t feel dehydrated. But a cup of water would be nice. Anise lifts a cup towards me. I grab it, and bring it to my lips gulping down the water quickly. I put the cup out, and Anise lifts a pitcher to fill it again. When the cup is nearly full, my arm spasms and the cup and water fall onto the bed soaking my leg. ¡°Everything okay?¡± Thelia asks. I give her a nod. ¡°Yeah just my body getting used to exercising the muscles again, nothing to worry about.¡± Anise fills the cup herself, and hands it to me. Poised to try, and catch it should it fall. I drink without trouble. I spin to the edge of the bed, and sit. My legs were sore from laying straight for so long, but I shakily stand to my feet. ¡°Nothing to worry about I promise. Just a day or two to acclimate myself to moving again. I give them a smile and lift my staff, which leans against the bedside table. I try to be subtle about leaning my weight on the staff. Thelia caught on I think, but she didn''t mention it. I stepped out of the room, it was on the first floor of the place, and past a medium sized kitchen. A wine cellar in the kitchen still needed repairs, and none of the ¡°colding" enchants had been applied to the cabinets yet. It would take a while for a mage to get here, or even import one of the pricey boxes they sold. They called them ice chests funnily enough. The front room was large, and was sparse besides a single table and a handful of chairs. The staircase that went to the second floor was bordered by a long bar, from which drinks could be served. The hallway that connected my room looped from the kitchen to a window at what what I assumed to be stables for horses. Knocking out a few planks could leave us with a nice teller area. Sitting at the table was Wizard, Fighter, and Rogue. They had a deck of cards of some kind dealt out. They glanced up at me in unison. It was good to see them. I clap my hands, and say ¡°Get your asses in gear. We got work to do.¡±