Ar'Kendrithyst

Chapter 97, 1/2

A young orcol girl, taller than Erick, bounded out of Irogh’s office and into the arms of her sister, saying, “I qualified for Seeker! Let’s go find some ruins!”

Her sister, named Ferai, who was older and taller by at least a foot, caught the girl and twirled once, as she set her down, saying, “Mother would be proud, and I am too.” She nodded over to Erick, and said, “Thank you, sir. I apologize for my sister for taking so long.”

“It’s no worries, really,” Erick said, smiling to see the happy sisters. “Good luck in your searches.”

The younger sister did a quick look to Erick, and frowned, not understanding what Ferai meant. Who was this stranger in their midst? She hadn’t taken that long, had she? There were a lot of options up there! Who would begrudge someone their time in communing with Rozeta? Was this little human truly that rude?

Erick grinned as all those questions and minor angers crossed the young girl’s face.

Ferai, for her part, just said, “Archmage Flatt has graciously shown—”

The younger girl’s eyes went wide, in sudden recognition. She glanced down to Erick’s shoes, then away, her face going from a darker shade of green, to something much lighter, as she lost all minor angers and fleeting joys, and stood beside her sister like a soldier falling in line.

“—us many promising spots around Spur.” Ferai said, “We’ve got lots to search.”

Erick’s appointment with Registrar Irogh had been for twenty minutes ago, but Irogh had been occupied. So he waited outside the blue door, with Ferai, who was waiting for her sister. Ferai instantly recognized Erick.

An apology on behalf of another quickly turned into a friendly chat. Ferai was a Seeker. She spoke of the monsters they were searching for around Spur, listing off ten that Erick had seen, several of which he had killed himself, and five that he had never heard of before that moment, most of them being very small monsters, with minor rads inside of them. [Withering] skipped right over those. Erick offered a [Cascade Imaging] to search for ‘holes’ in the dirt, if Ferai wanted a few places to start; a lot of her target monsters made burrows.

Also, Erick had seen Mog going over reports of unexpected holes in the ground, yesterday. Now was as good a time as any to investigate that strangeness, or at least help out someone with a request that was right in line with what he wanted to do, anyway. He didn’t tell Ferai that part, though.

Ferai readily agreed. So Erick popped up an Imaging to the north of the city, and left it searching for ‘holes in the sand a foot across and five foot deep’. That seemed to be a good enough search, because in a minute, blue dots began popping up all over the map. Ferai had seen the map, through [Scry], and gave a heartfelt thanks.

“I’ll leave the map out there for a while.” Erick added, “Good luck.”

The younger sister, Taroga, gave a slight ‘eep’, and nodded, as Ferai gave a heartfelt ‘Thank you’, and vacated the space in front of Irogh’s office, along with her suddenly quiet sister. Erick smirked, to watch them go, then turned his attention to the blue door in front of him.

Erick entered Registrar Irogh’s office. He said, “Hello, Irogh.”

The man behind the counter smiled, as Erick sat down, and the door closed behind him. “Good afternoon, Erick.” The door clicked, and the walls shimmered, as godly privacy magics took hold of the space. “How can I help you?”

“Can I see those Class Ability options, again? The ones I considered last time? And any new ones that might have appeared.”

Irogh tapped the air. A shortened list appeared to the left, hovering on the wall.

After Erick had made [Greater Lightwalk] using Jane’s suggestion, he gave her a call. A short, happy talk later, and she instantly teased him about how he did not need to humor her; she was perfectly aware that he would have done it that harmonizing way, eventually. Erick did not argue that point. Jane then congratulated him, and told him all about her own recent experience with Prismatic Polymage.

It was a good conversation. Jane did not promise to call more, for, in her own words, how could she? Erick was the one with the chain of [Familiar]’s, and able to send telepathic messages across a large part of the world. Erick almost gave her a hard time about that, but she was right.

That conversation and the transformation of [Lightwalk] to [Greater Lightwalk] had led to Erick hoping for something in his own new Class Options that Jane had mentioned that had popped up in hers. And yes, there they were; Dedication and Efficiency. The only reason he hadn’t gotten a Quest for one of these the last time he had been here was because he was conflicted on what to pick, and now, that problem had been compounded.

Honestly? They all looked good. And there were even more additions than the last time he was here.

Hero of Veird. Deal 3x damage to monsters.

More Spell Damage Done, Particle. x2

Less Spell Damage Taken, General x 0.75

More Area of Effect, Particle. x2

General Spell Duration x 1.25

Particle Spell Duration x 2

Sapping Particles. Your offensive Particle Spells gain you False Health dependent on damage done. False Health lasts 1 hour, and is renewed with damage done.

Blood Mana. Spend Health in addition to Mana to fuel spells.

Particle Healing. Your non-offensive Particle Spells restore Health to all people in the area commensurate to the Mana you spend.

Accomplished Dispeller. Your Dispelling magic does twice as much for the same cost.

Force Savant. Your Force spells do more and cost less.

Spatial Cohesion. Increase the range on your Spatial spells by 25%.

Light Dedication. Take much less damage from Light Sources. Do much more damage with Light Sources.

Light Efficiency. Greatly reduce the costs of all Light attacks and spells.

Force Savant was new. So was Spatial Cohesion. Accomplished Dispeller was old; he had gotten that one when he made [Spell Breaker]. He didn’t really want that one, but it was here because it was new.

“I thought I knew what I wanted. Um.” Erick asked, “What’s ‘Force Savant’ from?”

Irogh explained, “Particle Mage is very close to Force Mage, in that both Classes deal with the fundamental building blocks of life. Particle Mage was also based off of Force Mage, and then you went and remade more than ten basic Force spells. Bolt, Beam, Bomb, Crash, Wave, Trap, Shrapnel, Platform, Wall, [Conjure Armor], [Conjure Weapon], [Telekinesis], and [Detect Magic]. Through these various factors, came Force Savant.”

“What does that affect?”

“Almost every single spell is a creation of Force magic, somewhere in its construction, but Force Savant is not an all powerful ability. You might get anywhere between 1% to 5% more effectiveness with all of your magic. Those spells closer to pure Force, like [Pure Force Beam Bolt] or [Conjure Armor] would get as much as 20% more effectiveness.” He added, “Range, damage, duration, resistance to dispelling, damage absorbed or mitigated. Even lowered costs. Force Savant is one of the starter Abilities of the Force Mage, but many other Classes are capable of accessing this Ability, if they pursue and understand Force Magic.”

Erick looked up at the list, and considered. Force Savant sounded good; great, even. He looked to another Ability, and asked, “Only 25 percent for Spatial Cohesion?”

“You’re not a Spatial Mage.”

Erick asked, “So. Blood Mana. Is it frowned upon? Is it actually blood magic? Does it increase my mana pool how I think it does? How did I qualify for that one? That Ability was there well before I made [Cascade Imaging].”

Irogh smirked at the barrage of questions. He said, “Blood mana is used by many, but usually kept out of open speech and discussion. It is also one of the most basic Blood Mage abilities, and will not drain your physical self, but when in use, it will drain you Health for more Mana, effectively giving you—” He looked to the air, then said, “2460 more mana. Increasing your total effective mana to 10,680. Like all of your Abilities, you can choose to forgo using the Ability, at will. You qualified for Blood Mana because of your knowledge of anatomy, blood, and the basic building blocks of life, supported by your general knowledge of particles.”

“If I was a Blood Mage… What would my Class Ability list look like?”

Irogh stressed, “Heavily expanded from the norm, but I cannot give you a list for Blood Mage, since you are not a Blood Mage.” He added, “Since you have already unlocked Force Savant, and Spatial Cohesion, I can tell you that you would face a similar phenomenon were you to become a Force Mage, or a Spatial Mage.” He added, “The same holds true for Dispeller, and Light Mage.”

He wasn’t about to become any of those Classes, but knowing there were options was nice. Erick looked up at the blue board, and thought.

He had already spoken to Irogh about a few potential exploits regarding some of these Abilities, the last time he was here with Irogh. Regarding False Health for Blood Mana; that combination did not work how Erick thought it would work. One could not spend False Health like they could Health; he would not be able to cast any spell he ever made, just by virtue of throwing a [Withering Slime] into the Crystal Forest and then having all that subsequent False Health.

Erick moved on to considering the defensive nature of False Health. Having a few thousand more practically automatically healing Health, would be great for a fight.

But would it, really?

Health and [Personal Ward]s were a lot more flimsy than they appeared. When Teressa Raged, she had managed to tear through all 25,000 points of Erick’s [Personal Ward] and most of his meager Health, twisting his arm out of his socket. If he didn’t have the 70 Strength he had at the time, to physically resist her backhanded, shield bashing attack, he might have lost an arm. If he hadn’t have reacted as fast as he did, to take away Teressa’s [Prismatic Ward] permissions, she would have gone through Poi and all of his defenses, and on to much more killing.

Erick’s shielding was great against lesser beings like monsters and most any random rookie adventurer on the street. Against those types, Erick was practically untouchable.

If Erick ever remembered to use his [Defend] skill, then maybe Teressa’s casual attack would have been mitigated.

… But even with [Defend], if a Shade got a hold of Erick, and he wasn’t slippery in some way, like Jane was with her omni-elemental form, he was dead. Standing and taking a hit would end in his death. Therefore, Erick did not need Sapping Particle. What were defenses in the face of overwhelming power?

Particle Healing would be ‘good’ for large scale healing with some spells like Erick’s [Control Weather], but Irogh had explained the problems with that, as well, the last time Erick was here. Particle Healing was effectively reduced to nothing if the area and the targets were too many. But besides that, all that healing used up the spell’s duration and power. Erick might spend 1000 mana on a [Control Weather] that should last a full day, but if there were a hundred injured people in there, then they’d get maybe a 100 Health apiece over the course of 10 seconds, and the [Control Weather] would vanish.

Theoretically, he could spend his Health on a spell that was just around him, and then heal himself with the spell’s power, effectively getting magic for free, but it would also use up the spell’s power to heal him. That whole process seemed like playing around in edge cases. What was the point? Besides: his Mana Regen was great.

But, using an Ability was an optional thing; Erick could heal a lot of people in a Super Large Area, at his discretion, if needed.

And on the smaller side: spending a thousand mana on a spell that only reached ten people, would probably grant those ten people each a thousand Health.

But… Against Shades, each of them also acting as archmage-level threats… Particle Healing would not do a lot.

But then again, Particle Healing would do quite a lot, if Erick invented a spell that targeted non-monsters only, and gave those so affected by that spell some sort of empowerment against monsters... Such a theoretical ‘anti-[Withering]’ spell would then also restore Health, if needed. If he invented a stationary, [Ward] like Particle spell, he could make healing stations for a theoretical war with the Shades.

But then again… In a war, Erick would be forced into an offensive role. He doubted, of all the actions he could possibly take to thwart a Shade attack, that healing a few dozen people would ever be the best option.

So he thought on Particle Healing, but that Ability was not a real possibility, either.

Thinking back to spell damage, though: a generalized reduction of spell damage taken to 75%, seemed like a good idea. More damage done seemed superfluous, but maybe not? More area, though, that seemed really good. A bunch of area modifiers was likely how that Poisoner Archmage from the Wastelands got her orange cloud to be 30-plus kilometers in diameter. Spells like that would be important for the eventual assault on Ar’Kendrithyst, and for clearing out monsters.

Duration also seemed great? Sure?

Erick looked upon the list, and knew he was unprepared for a real fight against real threats. He needed more experience with all of that, but he wouldn’t get that experience sitting around at home, in Spur, fiddling with enchantments.

He asked, “What does Light Dedication affect? And Efficiency? Why are they separate? And without exact effects? Is it the same vein of Ability as Force Savant?”

Irogh said, “Dedication and Efficiency affect everything with the Light descriptor, or that is related to Light in almost every way. They’re separate because they are the ultimate Abilities for any and all Light users, with effects that are not quite quantifiable with a simple ‘times two’ description.” He said, “If you must put their benefits into numbers, they offer somewhat similar bonuses as Force Savant, but on a larger scale, split rather definitively between the choice for power, or the choice for efficiency.”

That was all well and good, and made those two Abilities stand out a lot more than they had a moment ago, but as Erick thought about his choices, he thought toward the future. He was currently at 7 out of 8 Abilities. With 2 more Ability Slot Increase Quests possible, for 20 more points, he was close to capping out at 10 Class Abilities. He kinda knew what he was going to get now, but what about in the future? Maybe Irogh would have an opinion?

He asked, “Which should I pick for killing Shades?”

Irogh said, “We’ve already gone over all the options; all of them are good. This is a choice you must make for yourself.”

Erick smiled. Registrars often seemed like social workers or lawyers; they often spoke in clarifying speech, giving long, expansive answers to the mechanics of most any ability, skill, or spell you already had, but they would never answer ‘what was best’.

Erick confidently said, “Blood Mana, please.” He added, “And another Ability Slot Increase Quest.”

Irogh nodded, as he tapped the air. “Done.”

Blue boxes appeared.

Ability Slot Increase Quest!

10 Points

OR

10,000,000,000 Mana and/or Health

Class Ability Quest!

Create a well-made tier 3 skill or spell born of a Health-cost skill and a Mana-cost spell.

Reward: Blood Mana

Erick asked, “Weird Quest. Is there a comparative warrior Ability?”

Irogh answered with a non-answer, saying, “Highly likely.”

“Thanks, Irogh.” Erick got up to leave, saying, “Till next time.”

Irogh said, “Farewell, Erick.”

- - - -

Erick had dreaded going to the Adventurer’s Guild because of his unintentional foray into Red Dreams with Mog, and Al, but now he had a reason to go to the guild; he needed one of those [Strike] leveling rocks Jane got, way back when they first got to Spur. He also wanted to ask if anything was happening with the holes outside of the city, if anything, so he had two reasons to go to the Guild.

Three reasons, if you counted asking for help with [Strike], which Erick bought for a point.

Strike 1, 10 HP

Level 1: Deal 1.0x damage with your weapon

Exp: 0/100

Hopefully Mog wouldn’t be too put out with him. Erick genuinely liked the woman.

Apparently, Erick needn’t have worried.

On the fourth floor of the log mansion Adventurer’s Guild, where drinks and quests were served to the powerful and skilled, Guildmaster Mog held her rough and tumble court in the corner, near the rails, overlooking a good chunk of the building. Erick blipped into the Guild in the designated [Teleport] alcoves, and instantly locked eyes with the woman in question. Her big brown eyes got bigger as her ample chest heaved and one of her arms, which would put any bodybuilder to shame, shot up, in a wave. She laughed.

A human girl and a human woman sat on the other side of Mog’s table; they had been talking to her when Erick blipped into the room. Those women looked to Erick with questioning eyes, then sudden passivity. They had recognized Erick, with the woman being slightly faster than the girl. He had no idea who they were, though.

“Hey!” Mog yelled, over the general hubbub of the busy Guildhouse. “Erick!” She waved him over, smiling, revealing huge lower fangs. “Come! Sit with us!”

Erick returned her smile as he walked closer, saying, “Hello, Mog. Glad to see you.”

Mog pulled out a chair at her table, by her side, as she gestured to the woman and the girl, saying, “Gwynewyn Clayfield and her daughter, Alandria Clayfield. Baroness and Lady, from the Republic.”

Erick paused, right as he was getting into the chair. He unfroze, as a smile came unbidden, and he sat down, saying, “A pleasure to meet you? From…?”

He had not truly noticed their clothes until this moment, for they were mostly unremarkable creations of brown leathers and white cloth. But now that he was closer, he saw that the white fabrics were also slightly silvered, every few other threads replaced by something stronger than fabric, but just as flexible. The leathers themselves were heavily tooled, and likely highly enchanted. Or maybe minimally enchanted, so it would last longer? It was crafted with Ancient Script writings in some of the whorls and straights, and some of it looked like [Ward], or a variation on [Ward], but Erick still wasn’t knowledgeable enough to identify magical equipment at a glance.

Of the two women themselves, Gwynewyn was an older woman, around Erick’s age, with dark skin and dark hair tied back in a bun, and bright blue eyes. Hers was an odd look to see on a person, but she was quite pretty. Her daughter was slightly lighter of skin, and maybe not yet twenty. She matched her mother in most ways, and especially in the eyes.

Gwynewyn nodded cordially at Erick’s question, then said, “Always a pleasure to meet an archmage, especially one that helped our people in Odaali. My daughter and I are from a small holding under Greendale, known as Steelbend, across from the Fin river, from Redder.”

“Apologies. I have only the vaguest idea of where that is.”

Gwynewyn said, “There are many places like ours scattered all over the Republic. It would be impossible to expect anyone to know of them all.” She added, “But we’re a little over a [Teleport] east of Odaali.”

“Ah!” Erick said. “Okay.”

Mog spoke up, “They’re thinking of moving their Adventuring Branch from Frontier to Spur.” She smirked, saying, “They might be your neighbors, Erick.”

“Oh?” Erick’s smile remained for a moment, entirely due to emotional inertia. And then he lost his joy, as his thoughts turned to paranoia. “Oh.”

Mog noticed, and chuckled, saying, “It’s nothing nearly so sinister—” Her tone switched to teasing, but with an undercurrent of actual danger, as she looked to Gwynewyn, saying, “Unless it is?”

Gwynewyn rapidly said, “It is not.”

“I joke! I joke.” Mog lightly nudged Erick, saying, “Ever since your windstorms, I’ve been meeting with potential noble houses that wish to come to Spur, to take part in our bounty and our protection.”

Erick’s paranoia did not leave him, but he did feel slightly better at Mog’s words, and her friendly touch. His thoughts returned to the moment, as he found himself asking, “No one has started building any houses nearby?”

Gwynewyn said, “Silverite has already imparted to us that your presence in Spur is much more important to her than any possible noble connections to any other part of the world.” She looked to Mog. “But I was not expecting this meeting to happen right now, either.” She said to Erick, “We’re still laying groundwork; attempting to contact you has not yet been approved by any of the powers of Spur.”

Mog laughed. “I did not expect it either, but I’m happy this is happening in my presence.” She reached over and patted Erick on the shoulders, with her fingers reaching all the way to the center of his back. “Erick is important to us.” Her hand lingered for the barest moment, before retreating. She eyed Gwynewyn, saying, “You are a wildcard, as are all your kind.”

“I accept this designation, but I hope to prove you wrong in time, and right now.” Gwynewyn said, “The Clayfields have been housed in Spur before, and we were valued members then. We look to regain that status, due to current world events and power proven, yes, by Archmage Flatt, but also in the face of what is to come.”

“What’s wrong with Frontier?” Erick asked.

“That’s what we were discussing.” Mog said, “Go ahead and say it all again, Gwynewyn.”

Gwynewyn said, “Viscount Helix is a man experienced with mortal wars, but Silverite is something more than that. When the conflict against the Shades begins, we wish to be inside the proper command structure, in order to assist, and to take our fair share of the bounty afterward.”

“A rush for gold?” Erick asked.

“Artifacts, gold, prestige, experience, physical power and magical might. The downfall of shadow. All of it; like anyone else in the adventuring business.” Gwynewyn said, “But most of all: Frontier is stifling. They have no Forward Base. They enter the Dead City by climbing over the wall, causing many to die in their first entering. I was lucky. Twenty years ago, I survived a dozen trips within, killing enough monsters in there to gain level 50 and a Class. I brought that power back to my part of the world, back home to the Republic. But the survival rate of wall-hoppers is steadily decreasing.

“The average survival rate for first timers has been around 45 percent, for several decades. Spur is around 45 percent, so it’s not much better. But ever since Candlepoint popped up from the sands, Frontier’s survival rate has dropped to 20 percent. Even in the last year, a few groups have been wiped out, to the person, including every single veteran.

“Therefore, the only option for my family— for my daughter’s survival and for her to eventually take over my position as Baroness, is for us to open a branch in Spur, and gain entrance to the Dead City, from this city.”

Erick glanced from Gwynewyn to her daughter, Alandria. The young girl sat straight and strong, but turned slightly to face Erick’s eyes. She averted her forward look after half a second, returning to a casual, regal posture. Maybe she was nervous, and hiding it, or maybe she was exactly as calm as she appeared, while the discussion of her death hovered around her like a dark cloud? Erick wasn’t sure.

Mog started, “That survival rate is the only reason we’re talking right now.” Mog said, “Your grandparents and great grandparents fought by Spur’s side, but when the Great Purge took most of them, those left behind, both in the Kingdoms and in your Republic, decided to abandon Spur, completely. Your people, once at least friendly with the incani, then went to bloody war with them over Kal’Duresh’s mountain oasis.” She said, “And it’s only gotten worse from there.” She thumbed at Erick, “But he’s a planar, and his magey neighbors are humans from Oceanside. They’re pretty okay.” She looked to Gwynewyn, saying, “Your family, the Clayfields, were a part of the problem.”

Gwynewyn said, “And dear old Grandpap is forty years dead, and his personal vengeance long since gone cold. We have no stake in further Quiet War nonsense, and haven’t for quite some time.”

Mog asked, “And what do you say about the other houses that have tried this very same thing you are attempting? Trying to get in good with Spur when Spur is doing well? What say you about when we caught one of your Green Circle here, in Erick’s house, parasitizing his food?”

“I say that we are a Republic of a thousand Houses, and while some have chosen to fight fate, a great deal of us have seen the writing in the sky. Frontier will fall; Bulgan will ensure it.” Gwynewyn said, “I also say that before the Great Purge, the Clayfields were pillars of Spur, with two archmages and countless more warriors raised within this orange city, and within this Guild, here. We deserve the opportunity to try to regain the stature we once had in Spur. If none of our other reasons should convince you, than this history we have should at least be honored in some decent way.”

Mog asked, “And of the Green Circle?”

“Everyone thought Archmage Flatt was a Shade plot, and that Spur was too enamored with the Dead City to do what needed to be done.” Gwynewyn looked to Erick, saying, “But he is not a pawn of the Shades anymore than anyone else.” She looked back to Mog, saying, “Spur made the right decision. I can safely say that Viscount Helix would have done differently. It is a good thing that he never got the opportunity.” She added, “Which is yet another reason that we wish to be out of Frontier, and joined to Spur.”

Once again, Erick felt some weird kinda way, about being implicated at working with the Shades. But he had already been inoculated against such an event, ever since Anhelia accused him of the same thing. He did not have a visceral, gut wrenching reaction, this time.

Still, though…

Still, he felt a flickering of anger, and an impetus to look back over all his previous actions with anyone in power, to see the extent of which he had been sounded out as a Shade conspirator. But as quickly as that emotion took hold, and as he thought to Poi’s presence in his life, and all the little conversations with Silverite, and paranoia threatened to take hold, he forced himself to calm.

Of course they would think him a Shade conspirator.Erick had always thought that the Green Circle assassin just didn’t want any knowledge to go to the incani.

Ah. But yes: they could have multiple reasons for doing what they tried to do.

Mog’s voice brought him out of his spiraling thoughts, as she said, “If you are approved, the Clayfields will not gain any power to make decisions in this city. We will not respect your noble title in these lands, but neither will your noble title cause you problems unless you bring those problems here yourself. The laws we have work, and they have barely changed, ever since Spur’s founding 800-odd years ago.”

Gwynewyn said, “We are aware of the laws and are willing to bind ourselves with them.”

Mog sat back, silent; thinking. Gwynewyn waited.

The air was filled with the cacophony of bar life and adventuring stories, as it had been since Erick entered the Guildhouse. Because of that, there was no silence to fill the air, as Mog appraised Gwynewyn, Gwynewyn waited for the outcome, and Alandria sat still, and silent, like a perfectly polite young woman. Erick had no idea what was happening, but it was important.

Mog spoke, “You have my vote.”

Alandria’s countenance broke, a tiny bit, as she allowed herself a smile. Something like relief passed behind her eyes.

Gwynewyn nodded, ever the perfect noble, and said, “Thank you, Guildmaster Mog.”

“The Guild Network vouches for you, and your house, but it is good to hear your answers.” Mog asked, “How is your vote looking?”

“Guardmaster Merit has voted in favor, after vetting our intentions. Quartermaster Liquid has voted in favor. Guildmaster Zago has voted against, but it was important for us to approach her, anyway. The Merchants of Spur have given us a positive vote as of yesterday. With your vote, we have four. We have meetings scheduled with other voters, in the following days. Unless something untoward happens, we will reach our necessary five votes, and then we will approach Silverite for a final confirmation, and a final vote.”

Erick found himself asking, “This is a complicated thing for you, isn’t it?”

“Complicated by design.” Mog said, “Nobles have a lot of political weight and resources to throw around, so inviting one of them into your city as a citizen is a big deal. Before you know it, they’ll get votes on the big stuff, and then there’s problems, and then there’s blood on the streets and divisions all around that could have been avoided if the nobles were never invited in, in the first place.”

Gwynewyn said, “We will not violate the sanctity of this city’s neutrality. I simply seek to see my children raised in the best possible way, so that House Clayfield can continue to hold back the Darkness in our own land, and abroad.”

“And I believe it.” Mog said, “Doesn’t mean what I said wasn’t true.”

Gwynewyn said, “I am not looking to gain political power in Spur. I have power enough back home.”

Mog smirked. “Good luck getting property. I hear plots in the Human District are going for a glowing grand rad, these days.”

Gwynewyn looked to her daughter.

Alandria startled for a moment, then spoke in an even voice, “This year’s wyrm season has been good for me— I mean. Good for House Clayfield. I will be purchasing the land and developing the house on my own, while my brothers will eventually participate, and all of us will have a location with which to venture into the Dead City, or into the other locations of the Crystal Forest. Our hope is to reestablish the Old Hold that once existed in Spur, and will exist again…” She blanked. She rapidly added, “—raised under my strength of arms and magic.”

Gwynewyn looked to Mog, saying, “It is like this, you see.”

Mog asked Alandria, “Where are you going to go, first? No new teams are getting into the Dead City right now, and especially not one in your unique situation.”

Alandria said, “The Hole, Firemaw Mountain, and the pursuit of larger hunts.”

“That’s why we have guilds.” Mog looked to Erick, asking, “Any questions? You have a vote too, if you want to use it, Erick.”

Erick ignored the question of how he got a vote, and said, “I do not. I have absolutely no idea who you are, so I can’t say one way or the other.”

Gwynewyn was unsurprised at this, but Alandria’s posture and facade cracked in a tiny, hurt way.

Mog said, “We’re done here, Gwynewyn, Alandria. I got more meetings coming up but I want some time with my unexpected guest, first.”

The Clayfield women got up from their chairs and stepped away.

Gwynewyn said, “Thank you for your time and your vote, Guildmaster.”

“Thank you,” echoed Alandria.

They walked away, to the staircase leading down.

An incani sitting at a table near the stairs gave Gwynewyn a sneering eye, but the woman did not respond to the provocation.

“I do actually have more meetings,” Mog said to Erick, as she pointed to the sneering incani. She spoke loud enough for the stranger to hear, “But I think this one just got canceled. There won’t be no Quiet War shit in my house.” As the man turned back toward Mog, realizing that she had seen him, Mog spoke louder, “Yeah. You hear me. Fuck off, dude. Your vote is ‘no’.”

The man sputtered, gesturing to the space where Gwynewyn had just been, calling out, “But—”

“NO.” Mog said, “Go back to the Kingdoms, or Kal’Duresh. You ain’t living here.”

The incani, who was purple skinned and dark horned, said some soft words from halfway across the room, that if Erick wasn’t looking for, he would have missed. “Apologies, Guildmaster.” And then he got up, and walked away.

Mog sighed, bringing Erick’s attention back to her. “Always Quiet War shit.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Mog smiled at him. “I bet you do.”

Erick asked, “So what was all that about? Gwynewyn? Nobles? That guy at that table?”

“The nobles are calling for space in our prosperity. It’s a hassle, but it’s good for Spur. I wasn’t there when it happened, but I’ve heard that after the Great Purge, Silverite made some dumb decisions that ended up causing Frontier and Kal’Duresh.” She shrugged. “Or maybe something else happened. Whatever the case, the nobles are finally coming back, and the Clayfields do have a long history with Spur. So they had my vote. It was good to hear her talk like she talked, though.” Mog said, “As for that guy I dismissed, he was a troublemaker. Can’t keep that shit out of public, then there’s no telling what they get up to in private.” She pointed to a table three away from the one the incani had been at. A different pair of incani were sitting there, these ones with tiny horns, and pale violet skin. “They had no reaction to Gwynewyn, but they’re early. Maybe early enough to see her and hear what she had to say? Or maybe because they want a lot of my time? I don’t know. I can only deal with what I see. But they can alllll wait.” Mog smiled at him, saying, “Because you’re here. So what brings you here?” She laughed, as she slapped him on the shoulder, saying, “And you take this long to show up! What’s a girl to think! I can’t have been that bad, could I?”

Erick chuckled, saying, “Ah. Uh. No. It was… It was good.”

“Damn right it was good.” She smirked at him. “So what’s up, Erick?”

“Oh. I…” Erick tried to collect his thoughts. He landed on, “I heard about all these holes out in the Crystal Forest. I actually put up an Imaging north of the city, searching for every hole, for a pair of young adventurers I met earlier. What’s up with the holes?”

Mog said, “That’s just what Ballooning Spiders do. Most of their lifetime is spent underground, and they gotta get back down there, somehow.”

“But… I thought that the Crystal Mimics ate them?”

“Well yeah. But not all of them. There’s half a billion spiders up there!” She laughed, then said. “Enough pregnant mothers survive the fall and the mimics in order to [Stoneshape] holes down to the Underworld.” Mog shrugged. “There are monsters that live in burrows out there too...” She paused. She said, “Actually… Where is the Imaging you put up?”

“North of the city. Hard to miss.”

Mog nodded. Tendrils of intent flicked away from her head. “Thanks, Erick. That helps.”

“Is there a danger of dungeons forming from the deeper holes? Or do they collapse?”

Mog gave Erick a small grin, then said, “Those holes usually collapse on their own, but even when the holes are deep enough to spawn slimes, mimics will feel those vibrations in the ground and then go excavating for a meal. Even unattended blood dog burrows, or dune viper burrows, end up getting excavated if the original residents aren’t there anymore; sand slimes spawn in those, all the time. Now, sometimes, very rarely, the burrowing monsters hit some Underworld tunnels near the surface. When that happens, you get dungeons in the Crystal Forest.

“But rarity turns commonplace every ten-ish years, with the Ballooning Spiders’ passing. Unexpected dungeons, everywhere.

“It’s nothing to panic about right now, for there’s a lot of land out there, and the monsters in those natural dungeons don’t usually make it far outside of those underground spaces before the mimics come and eat them, then go down the holes in search of more, collapsing the entrance and the dungeon in their search for food. Or, the fragile spider tunnels collapse from the inside as monsters try to get out, thus burying everyone under sand, and that’s that. But if none of that happens, and the tunnel is big enough to not collapse, and a real dungeon forms...

“First come slimes, then come shadowolves hunting those slimes. Then it’s all a pain in the ass and at least five rookies always die, because there aren’t any Shades overseeing those unknown dungeons out there, and the people who find them are always rookies. There’s always some oddity out there lurking in those untamed holes in the ground, too, like cursed babblers, or sand oozes, or stonebone skeletons.

“It’s a problem,” Mog stressed. “Not a large one, but every ballooning, there’s a good twenty or fifty dungeon spaces that become real dungeons within a [Teleport] of Spur, made by Balloon Spiders just looking to get home. We’re still, technically, in the flying horde phase of the problem, and then there’s Candlepoint… People’s focuses are not where they usually are. But we should be fine.

“In the coming months, people will be searching for those holes and sealing them up.” She said, “Your Imaging will speed up that process, considerably.” She smiled. “Good work, Erick.”

Erick had killed high leveled monsters headed for Spur before, on Mog’s request, but she had been adamant about refusing his help to ‘clear out the land around Spur’, because the younger crowd needed the experience and the danger of the Crystal Forest in order to grow stronger, to face the real threats out there. But even knowing that, after hearing about ‘unexpected dungeons’, Erick asked, “Want me to send some Witherings out there, into those spaces?”

“Nope.” Mog said, “Mapping them out is good, though. Makes it a lot easier for the youngsters to find the problem areas.” She asked, “Have you looked at the map you put out there, lately?”

Erick had not, but at Mog’s question, he summoned a [Scry] orb at the map.

About two dozen people surrounded Erick’s floating, white map of the nearest thousand radial kilometers. There were also maybe four guards who had stepped in to stop a breakout of violence between two smaller groups of angry people. Most of the people standing around, studying the map, were just talking to each other as they planned their course. Most of them looked like rookies, with basic, mismatched equipment, but some of them had custom, highly magical items, like one incani guy in black, flickering armor, and an orcol woman in a sundress made of feathers.

He came back to himself. “That got popular rather fast.”

Mog asked, “Would you be interested in putting up more of those, for other targets? Finding some of the monsters on the boards takes a lot of time.”

“Oh? Sure. Absolutely. Once a day? Or?”

“Nothing like that.” Mog said, “But as a bonus for some of our higher leveled people, sometimes. I can just send a message to Poi over there, like I did before?”

Erick smiled. “I’d love to help. Ah. I also came here to get one of those black rocks you use to level [Strike].”

Mog scrunched her face in a cross between disbelief, and amusement. “Sure. We got those.” She lifted her head toward the bar area of the third floor as a tendril of thought left her head. She said to Erick, “Coming right up.”

Erick did not see who she motioned toward, but in seconds, one of the barbacks, a young incani guy, came walking out from behind the counter. He came to Mog’s table and set down a black stone.

Mog said, “Thanks.” The kid bowed, and stepped away. Mog picked the stone up. She held the rock in her fingers and tapped it with her thumb. A small crack of sound crashed from the tiny rock. She said, “They’re just some alchemical iron rocks, made to deform rather than break. Here.” She handed the rock to Erick.

He took the rock, and almost dropped it. He had 82 Strength, so the rock wasn’t heavy, but it was surprising to have something that looked like it weighed a few ounces, at most, end up weighing a full kilogram. He said, “That’s heavier than I thought it would be.”

“That’s a larger rock than most.” Mog asked, “What’s the plan with [Strike]?”

“Going for [Melee Reflection], but first, I’m trying to see how Mana and Health can play nicely together in combination skills and spells.” Erick used [Strike] against the stone, tapping it with his finger.

He did not blink, but he missed the moment of attack, anyway. Erick’s thumb was on the stone. He giggled as the phantom of some passing sensation lingered in his finger, and in his arm.

Mog joyfully asked, “Was that your very first [Strike]?”

“Ha ha! Yes.” Erick said, “That was very weird, too. I didn’t get the full feeling of it all.”

“Ha!” Mog said, “[Strike] is one of those special skills that returns your investment, ten-fold. If you use it right, [Strike] does a shit-ton more than even the strongest [Force Bolt].”

“I bet it would!”

Mog laughed, happy, and then the moment was over. She sighed. She glanced away, giving an annoyed look to the people waiting for her, for their appointment. She looked to Erick, saying, “It was good seeing you.”

Erick said, “It was good seeing you, too.”

Mog grinned, saying, “Don’t be a stranger.”

Erick got up from his chair, and turned to her. Mog was quite beautiful, in multiple ways. Not just the physical, but most of all, she was open and honest.

Erick said, “See you later, Mog.”

Mog nodded, saying, “See you later, Erick.”

- - - -

Erick’s next stop was the Guardhouse, to speak to the orangescale Guardmaster, Merit.

Teressa met Erick and Poi at the front entrance of the huge, cube block of a building. From there, they went upstairs. Erick briefly [Scry]ed on the [Cascade Imaging] he left north of the city, mostly just to dismiss the effect, but also to see how many people his spell had attracted; he almost felt bad canceling the magic in front of thirty-odd people.

He returned his attention back to his body, and took another step up the staircase, leading into the center of the building. The bustle and anger of guards and their quarry were left behind, as Erick turned a corner, and then another. Soon, he was in the central courtyard of the Guardhouse.

Either he or Ophiel should have been here, in the central courtyard, hours before now. But time got away from him, as it usually did. Erick summoned another Ophiel. The little winged [Familiar] fluttered through the air, chirping and humming violins as his eyes wandered in all directions, catching on the other people in the courtyard. And then Erick blipped him away, to join the rest flying out across the Crystal Forest, waiting for Merit’s searching orders.

The woman in question stood to the side of the courtyard space, her silver armor glinting in the sunlight, her orange scales as vibrant as her casual glare. Merit looked to Erick like he had fucked up, and maybe he had fucked up by being a few hours later than he thought he would be…

He looked to the plates of body parts. Somehow, he had forgotten that part.

Oh yeah. He had fucked up.

Erick said, “Oh. Uh.”

What other words could he really say?

Merit asked, “Do you have a problem with me?”

“What? No.” Erick said, “It’s—”

“Because the missing people that these body parts represent could either be found dead or alive.” Merit said, “My people are still looking for them, but you can look faster, and cleaner, than anyone else I know.”

“You’re right.” Erick asked, “Where are we searching, first? What happened?”

“Just Spur.” Merit added, “There was a capture, and a ransom. If they’re not in Spur anymore, then they were tricked into accepting a [Teleport] but that seems unlikely based on the note.”

Erick cast into the center of the courtyard. A sphere of cascading light high above scanned the land with radiowaves, while a white fog floated out of the air in front of Erick, coalescing into a hovering, chunky space, five meters across. It would take minutes for the spell to properly form its map, but Erick could change the spell’s targets with secondary casts, as many times as needed.

He walked over to the silver trays. Three right handed thumbs, each a slightly different shade of purple than the last; incani, probably. Each thumb was under an individual [Preservation Ward]. Erick asked, “Does it matter where we start?”

“No. Any would be fine.”

Erick had the Ophiel on his shoulder flutter down to the leftmost thumb and touch a wing to the body part. Erick pushed mana through his [Familiar], onto the thumb, enveloping it in his power as he cast through his [Familiar], targeting the DNA within. The cascading orb in the sky flickered once, as the map below began to populate with blue markings.

[Scry] eyes appeared above the map; Merit’s Scryers, the guards whose job it was to search the city for the perpetrators. The normal silver-clad guards seen around the city, every day, would come later, after the Scryers had their prey.

Erick’s spell worked fast. The Scryers and the Guard worked just as fast. Erick managed to catch the end of the altercation through a well positioned Ophiel.

In a house on the northern side of Spur, the Guard came down like a vengeful hammer, cracking open the building with [Stoneshape] spells, distracting the occupants in the basement below while others blipped in, and slammed manacles onto the kidnappers. One minute later, three humans Erick had never seen before were thrown in a carriage, and on their way to the Guardhouse for interrogation and otherwise.

The three incani victims were released from their own manacles and blipped away by guards. Erick caught words in the air about ‘the church’ and ‘healers’, so he assumed they were off to High Priestess Darenka or, more likely, one of the doctors over at the Interfaith Church, to restore their thumbs and the other wounds, all across their bodies.

Erick came back to himself, and felt his skin go cold, despite the sun overhead.

Merit smiled at nothing in particular, and this time it seemed real.

Erick forced himself to emotional stability, then said, “Please let me know if you need help with something like this, ever again. I’ll be sure to respond a lot faster than I did today.”

Merit looked to him, and said, “Of course, Erick.”

Erick looked to her fingers, and saw a silver band. “You got the ring shipments I sent out, right? I made some better ones.” He held up his own hand, and its silver ring. “Plus 31 to All Stats—” He tried a joke, to lighten the mood. “Though I can’t quite say that, these days, can I?”

Merit was in a mood that was neither bad, nor good, but it certainly wasn’t a joking mood. She simply said, “We’ll take another ring shipment, but the smaller versions would be fine.”

“… Really?” Erick asked. “You sure you don’t want the larger ones?”

“Yes.” She said, “Most of my people wear their rings on their toes, or on a necklace under their shirt. They might not get the same benefit, but it does well enough to prevent thefts and unexpected assaults.”

“That happens?”

“Of course it does.” Merit said, “The smaller artifacts are good enough; no need to go making my people look too much like targets, rather than enforcers.”

“… Okay.” Erick turned to Teressa. “Are you going to stick around?”

Teressa looked to Merit.

Merit said, “We can still use you. [Witness] on the containment location would be a good start.”

“Ma’am,” Teressa said, as she nodded. She turned to Erick, “It’s like that, then.”

Erick placed a Handy Aura hand on Poi’s shoulder, and said, “Until next time.”

Merit nodded.

Erick blipped away, back to the house with Poi in tow.