065 – Rooftop
***
The Void Phantoms expanded their operations into the lower levels of the Ancient power station. The Ugloids were banished to level negative one during the daytime and were only allowed to venture into the upper sections at night. Below ground they lived in a small community isolated from the other humans. Some of the cult’s industries also moved to level negative one. The smelteries, foundries, and smithies belched smoke up to the surface. Smiths banged away on anvils to forge the crude weapons and armor needed to equip the growing monster army. On level negative two, Korkso and his Goadsmen trained the trolls into proper Warcreeps, soldiers willing to fight and die for the dark lord.
None of this improved the air quality underground.
The four lowest levels, where the power arrays had once pumped mana up from the Earth’s core, remained empty. The networks of tunnels and nodes were unsuitable for habitation. No one had any reason to go down to the lowest depths except for me.
I pushed my wheelbarrow up the main ramp as Nimblesto the goblin sauntered after me. Piles of rubble blocked our way, and loose debris covered the floors, making my trip longer and more arduous. Overloaded with loot, the wheelbarrow shuddered and creaked as it rolled along the grimy floors.
“Stony no guard dungeon?” Nimblesto whispered.
“No. Old Stony is dead. His brain has been decommissioned. The underground is perfectly safe now.”
The lower levels of the citadel still made the goblin nervous, as the rogue golem had once repelled the tribe from this area. He couldn’t quite believe we reclaimed the dungeons.
“Gah! Monster!” Nimblesto shouted in fear. He zipped behind me and hid in my cloak.
On the ramp before us, a shadow split from the darkness and spoke. “What are you doing down here, human?”
“Oh. Just tidying up.”
The huge monster, Famigrist, lumbered out from the denser shadows into the light of my lumestone. He had a wolf-like head and a gorilla-like body, all covered with a thick brown pelt. Famigrist must have taken up residence in the lower levels. The dungeon wasn’t as empty, or as safe, as I first thought.
“Cleaning is a job for the Ugloids, not minions. And the dungeon is a place for monsters.” He pulled the cover off my wheelbarrow to see what I was hauling. “Rocks?”
“Crystals. You could say I’m collector.”
“Ride your hobbyhorse elsewhere, human. Your trespassing has disturbed my sleep,” Famigrist growled. He turned and plodded back into the dark tunnels.
It seemed that a new guardian had taken up residence in the lowest levels. The grumpy old monster would make it hard for me to collect shattered bits of the old power collectors for my own use. But that didn’t worry me too much. Famigrist often left the citadel on missions, usually through the wilds of the Spitpoison River Valley. I could sneak in while was he was away to add to my growing rock collection.
Nimblesto pulled on my cloak anxiously and pointed up the ramp.
“Go go go! Human stink, stupid, blind. Dungeon no safe.”
“What are you worried about? You’re a monster, aren’t you? That means it’s fine for you to visit.”
I dumped the load of quartz at my workshop. The large lumps of crystals needed to be broken up into smaller pieces, cut, shaped, and polished. Then I would inscribe the runes and set them into larger arrays. With this amount of material, it would be some time before my next salvage trip down to the citadel’s basement.
“Monster live dungeon. Human no tell Nimblesto. Human cheat goblin.”
“I didn’t know he was down there either. It was a surprise to me. But I can tell you that’s not the worst thing we’re going to deal with today. We’re going from the bottom to the top. Next up is the roof.”
“No! Goblin hate bird! No go roof.”
“You hate birds, but you love stealing. Let’s go.”
The devil-birds roosting on our rooftop littered the citadel and immediate area with their cast off feathers. Smaller feathers had no use, but the flight feathers contained essences valuable for alchemy, runes, and especially the creation of spiritual steel. I had already collected all of them from around the building and purchased even more from the goblin tribe, who found the feathers scattered throughout the valley. But now the easily accessible materials had already dried up. I needed to go straight to the source. The devil-birds’ nest would be a treasure trove.
I left behind my wheelbarrow and lifted a wooden ladder over one shoulder. We headed up the ramps to our next objective.
“Alright, Nimbly. There’s no point hauling the feathers down when we can toss them over the edge to collect later. We dart in, grab what we can, and then scram before the birds catch on.”
The devil-birds roosted on the citadel’s very topmost roof. In the past, this was the base for the steel docking tower that rose another hundred meters in the air. Now all that remained were four mergestone plinths where the legs of the tower connected to the rest of the citadel. Each was th size of a house. We climbed the ladder at one of these large slabs of stone to conceal ourselves from the monsters and shimmied around the edge.
As common birds built their nests from twigs and branches, the devil-birds had constructed nests out of whole saplings and great boughs ripped from trees. They stuffed the loose wickerwork with dried plant material. Nimblesto and I found our way over an artificial terrain of bowl shaped depressions between raised ridges.
The devil-birds had a very wide hunting range that went far outside the valley and across the southern portions of the continent. They spent weeks in the air, riding on the highest air streams and hunting for prey. The birds only returned to the citadel to mate, lay eggs, and tend to their young. The mana flowing up form this wellspring further nourished the young monsters and caused them grow to enormous size. Only a few of the adults were present at the nest at any one time. Their absence allowed the my goblin companion and me to pick our way through the empty nests without being seen.
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Molting birds had left plenty of feathers to collect. Each one was about the size of an oar, which made them awkward to carry, but they weighed almost nothing. We tossed a bushel full over the edge, and the feathers swirled their way down to the lower rooftops.
Sneaking further in, I peeked over the edge of a wicker wall to get a look at a pair of screeching devil-birds. The monsters flew over the valley constantly, but I had never seen one close up. The two gigantic birds perched over a bright blue egg about the same size as the magical cauldron, easily big enough to hold a person. The monsters were less avian than I had assumed. They had naked heads and necks, much like a buzzard or vulture, but their skin was much scalier, like that of a crocodile. Sharp teeth grew from the rear portions of their mouths to compliment their hooked beaks. A crest of spikes grew from their skulls and down their long necks.
The pair of monsters took no notice of me as they hunched over the lone egg. The larger of the two beasts had become gray and sickly with age. Its patchy skin sagged down, and its feathers drooped. Even its voice was less shrill and piercing than its mates. The sick creature swayed over the egg. Then it laid down its head and wheezed its last breath. In a short time, it was dead.
Not long after one of the devil-birds expired, a new one rose to take its place. The shell of the egg cracked and crumbled as a naked creature broke free. The devil-chick was even uglier than its parents. It had a huge head, bulging eyes, and stumpy limbs covered in wet down. Despite being a newborn, the monster was already as large as an adult human.
The mother devil-bird ripped open the corpse of her mate and pulled back its bloody ribs. She dug into the torso and plucked out a small organ with her beak. The hatchling chirped expectantly. The mother dropped this glob of flesh into her child’s squawking mouth. A cannibalistic first meal.
Korkso had claimed that the devil-birds, though savage, were as intelligent as humans. I wondered if this first meal made from the flesh of a dying elder, had some deeper, ritualistic meaning for the birds. This reminded me of the weird festival of carnage performed by the trolls, where Bowsk the Mighty murdered his two pregnant spouses at the foot of a baby idol. Monsters had their own bizarre societies and customs that made no sense to me.
Another devil-bird soared directly above us, and the wind from its flight stirred up a blast of dust and dried leaves. It screeched in anger. Nimblesto and I scrambled for cover. The mother and chick hadn’t seen us in the nest, but one flying above might have spotted us with its incredible eyesight. We crouched in small divot and held branches over our heads to hide from aerial reconnaissance.
Nearby was the skylight that lead into the dark lord’s audience hall. A metal grate sealed it from the outside, but that did not keep out the awful screeching of the monstrous birds. It also did nothing to prevent voices from leaking outside.
“Lord Hrolzek! Please. Let me follow after that treacherous woman. She can’t be trusted to raise an army. She will turn it against us at the first opportunity.”
I could only hear this conversation due to my recently augmented physique. All my senses, including my hearing, had improved greatly since enkindling my flame. Those below might not distinguish my footsteps from the birds’ general ruckus, but they could certainly hear my voice just as easily. I gestured to Nimblesto to remain silent and not say a word.
“Master Iiyluzh,” a deep voice responded. “You’re needed here in the south. Your mission to hunt down traitors is complete. Everyone who suspected the Void Cult’s continued existence has been eliminated thanks to your work.”
“But more traitors lurk within. Those three witches are self-serving opportunists. Especially the Transfixing Eye. Please let me travel to Gargléon to gather some proof of her disloyalty.”
“Malisent has done nothing to warrant such suspicion. You’re letting your personal desires cloud your judgment.”
“She is as undeserving of her power as she is your trust! It’s unthinkable for a brat like her to obtain one of the five deadly venoms. It’s taken me fifty years of pain to acquire three of them, and she managed to master the serpent’s venom as a novice witch? Absurd. I’ll wring it out of her like a wet rag.” Iiyluzh spoke to the dark lord with a different tone than I had heard before. He dropped his act as a playful libertine. His words dripped with a poisonous jealousy.
“All the Phantoms enjoy my protection in exchange for their service. Only those who fail me are to be punished. Unless that happens, Iiyluzh, I want no unsanctioned murders.”
“And what of my service to the cult? I have labored more than anyone. I have slain more of our enemies. Where is my reward?”
“Once we seize control of Sandgrave, I will grant you permission to challenge the witch to another duel. You can settle your feud after our victory… in a fair fight.”
“Bah! That could take years. I’ve waited so long already. My swordcraft can’t advance until I gain the next deadly venom. My patience wears thin and my bones grow old.”
“If you believe it would be faster to find your own gorgon, I give you leave to hunt for one on the continent.” The dark lord spoke with a cool and lifeless sincerity. If there were any irony to his words, I could not hear it.
“Impossible. Medusa was the last known of her kind. We won’t see another until the witch loses control of her daemon,” Iiyluzh said. “The woman is a back stabber. I will present you with evidence of her disloyalty, my lord, long before we conquer the kingdom Sandgrave. I just hope that she doesn’t wreck serious harm on our cult before I am vindicated in my beliefs.”
“Should an officer betray my trust, you may do as you wish. Until then, stay your blade. And your venoms.”
The meeting between the dark lord and his assassin came to an end. The Void Phantoms had serious rivalries in their ranks, to the point where they wanted to outright murder each other. Malisent might be able to win a fair fight, but Iiyluzh could kill by poisoning a person’s food, drink, or air. He was a fearsome enemy. He might go so far as to fabricate evidence against her or sabotage her to the point of a failure deserving punishment.
I tiptoed away from the metal grate. The citadel had lousy security. An inexperienced disciple like me could sneak basically anywhere. Nothing was guarded. Most places didn’t have locks. There were no regular patrols or alarms or check points. Worst of all, half the people here covered their faces, so anyone could waltz right as long as they wore a skull mask. I suppose that swordsmen had such high self confidence that they didn’t bother with normal security measures. The citadel’s secret existence and remote location kept it safe from outsiders raiding the place, but that couldn’t last forever. Once our monster armies invaded the peninsula, our secret fortress would be exposed, and enemies might raid us back.
On the way to our ladder, we passed by the hatchling bird. It’s mother had left it to consume its first meal. The hideous thing stripped flesh from the dead devil-bird. Its face was slick with gore. It squawked at us in anger, but was too top heavy and clumsy to attack.
“Goblin hate bird. Nimblesto kill squawker!”
I grabbed him my the collar. “Wait right there. Killing a chick will break the truce. Momma bird will attack our workers in revenge if you do that.”
“Goblin want war. Goblin hate human.”
“Too bad. Help me pluck this chicken.”
I yanked out the flight feathers from the gigantic corpse. The elderly bird was especially rich in lunar essences. Its feathers were twice as good as the others we found. I also filled my satchel with pieces of bright blue eggshell. They possessed some other type of essences that might prove useful for crafting.
Hunting monsters and raiding their lairs was a dangerous business. It would have been much better to domesticate a few breeds and start a monster ranch. Gathering essences could be as easy as milking a cow or getting a chicken’s eggs in the morning. Maybe I could convince Korkso and the Goadsmen to stop training soldiers and transition into monster husbandry.
With our day’s errands complete. We fled from the rooftop nest.