“Well, it cannae stop the slithyr from returning without vivus t’ reinforce the Veil, but aye, a good point. Did wonder me how it lasted so long with the things around. The Blessed Moarsmen over there fighting the tendrils at its direction do make some strange sense now…” the Mick admitted, taking a long drink of the local rum. The Aun weren’t big on booze, knowing what it could do to a warrior’s drive and mentality, but they definitely could brew some stuff with a kick for the right occasions.
“And don’t forget the sclavi. They serve the Falatacot, be they the living or the undead, they make little difference between them.”
“A fact we’ll see on the morrow, aye, if they still hold the waterfall temple,” the Mick nodded. “I expect the undead found a way onto the place an’ took it over, but the Deep beat them to control o’ the moarsmen.”
“Shameless Elder Entity that it is, taking advantage of a species the Falatacot created for itself. It’s like it doesn’t have standards of only recruiting naturally-born creatures or something.”
“Aye, I be giving it a long tongue-thrashing over its recruiting standards, I be,” he nodded wisely. “When do ye think we should be going back, lass?”
“Before dawn.”
He looked at me, at the rum he was downing, then turned his dark eyes on the Guard Aspirants who were talking with the Aun and sharing stories of the fighting to be had there. “Ye might have wanted t’ warn the wee lads a bit before now, aye?” he asked lightly, clearly amused at the implications.
“Sir Darvis has been approached by some of the hunters over there, who doubtless would like to contribute to the archery for some excitement. If we get a Long Jump set up here, the island will likely become their new practice ground, and they’ll take the final step of getting rid of the slithyr tentacles across all of Ithaenc.”
The Mick turned his eyes to the nearby waterfall and the locked slithyr spawns underneath it that were the daily practice targets of basically every Aun in the settlement, and not a few humans who’d moved into the outskirts of the area, too. Ithaenc City, once the home of virtually all the paramounts of the island, had lost over half of its population already, and that number was steadily going down. The young had much better examples to follow on Dereth proper, and far better choices to make grinding for Levels, while the paramounts themselves had left to either alleviate their boredom or to get more variety in their own activities as their courage started to return to them.
Also, farming the Elemental Fields up in the olthoi north brought in new wealth, the chance to return from the dead was finally back, and there were new toys, Gear, and tricks they wanted to learn, none of which came sitting back on their arses and coasting along on irrelevant prior achievements.
The Mick considered all that, then nodded. “Lass, I know it don’t take ye long t’ do the primary work, an’ the Infusing can be done by others. Why don’t ye take the morrow t’ speak with the Aun, ask ‘em where they want the Long Jump set up, an’ get the form o’ it in place.
“They can send a team o’ the best hunters with us on the next run, who can work out the spawns to keep an’ where at, an’ help us run down the real moars giving the Spawn orders. They can also take over the protection o’ the Deru Tree up there, mayhap even changing the spawns to fellow Tonk instead o’ moarsmen as a sacred duty.”
I considered that viewpoint. “The settlement here will have to give up its slithyr spawns, they basically anchor its intrusion for the whole island,” I told him firmly.
“Aye, and they be aware.” He tossed a thumb in the direction of Ithaenc. “The Dungeons up there are dying in importance, which makes ‘em prime for being taken over by the Aun and the lugians as training for them and their kids. No goddamn need for paramounts to be lounging around up there.”
That… actually wasn’t too bad, although the Seed Dungeon was much too tough for the younger Aun and lugians. “It’s already well-established, so keep the Seed Dungeon as a competitive place to the side?” I hazarded.
He waved that off. “Feh. The place was basically forgotten before the Fall as being o’ low interest an’ not much challenge, odd tho’ it be. The measure o’ a basic tough Dungeon be the Baishi Hive, and it be even more accessible than the Seed… and it be more relevant, too.”
That was true. Being able to get experience against olthoi in controlled circumstances was hugely valuable as we stood off the Olthoi of the north and farmed the Elemental Fields.
“Any Dungeon can be designated as competitive an’ farmed. They do it with all the mosswart Dungeons on the other islands, fer instance. The Aun be a nomadic people at heart, ye’ve seen how easily they move an’ adapt to a new land. They be perfectly happy t’ move themselves an’ their families to new locations t’ benefit from things.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
It was true. The Aun had been picking up and moving to ‘starter towns’ on Dereth with easy Dungeons for their children, and much, much more land to wander across. This gave both the kids and adults more room to grow, without their elders having to hold back so the kids could get experience and kills.
It allowed them all to work harder to improve themselves, both on the easy variety of the landscape spawns and the intense grind of clearing a Dungeon.
There were no Starter Dungeons on the Vesayans to speak of, and there was a whole new generation born after the Fall coming of age to start working on the things. Plenty of young and enthusiastic teens were being sent to Dereth to start their real grindy combat training in the Dungeons there, as opposed to very careful oversight by their elders hunting much tougher creatures to practice on.
“That’s fine, I can certainly start the whole process going,” I agreed, making a list of what elders needed to be gathered to judge the location and looking for them. Getting a shaman would be easiest, he’d drum the rest over from wherever they were. “What about you?”
“Ach, I be havin’ t’ work?” His outrage was well-feigned. “I be talkin’ with the hunters an' like as we start changin’ shite around. Have t’ inform Borelean an’ Kresovus, too. Like as not Kresovus be takin’ Ithaenc Tukal as capital of the whole island in the future formally, with the Aun playin’ scouts for them as they clean off all the spawns save in specific areas ‘t hunt.”
“Or change the spawns to protect their cities, instead of threaten them,” I nodded along. “Okay, you get the ball rolling on the formal stuff on that end. It’s good the Aun are nomadic, it makes this easy, and Kresovus doesn’t have the overwhelming urge to reclaim a hole in the ground now.”
“Aye, building Ithaenc up an’ surpassing gone Linvak Tukal be the new call, although there again be some clans what sided with the Gotrok muttering that their clan holding or mine or somesuch should be the basis for a new city…” He spat eloquently off to the side.
“They’re going to get an entire island to fortify and turn into an unassailable home for their families, and for every other species, if need be. If they don’t get to look at snow-capped peaks every day, they’ll get used to it,” I sniffed. It wasn’t like they were being denied going back to the mainland.
“Aye, that be truth, as be the fact that getting away from the Gotrok shite an’ rediscovering the true honor o’ the Tukora be not something easily done in the current day around the older clans an’ places,” the Mick said with grim satisfaction. “The lugian elders be hard t’ move as stone at times, an’ only an avalanche be changin’ their minds.”
“Or the destruction of a mountain entire,” I agreed with him somberly. I caught the eye of Aun Hlossa, a female shaman of standing, and waved her over with my chin. She quickly excused herself and headed my way.
The Mick noticed it, glanced about once as he rose to his feet, and winked, “Ah, these late hours. I need t’ ask fer a raise, I be thinkin’.”
“Nobody can pay us what we’re worth, Lord Mick,” I replied easily, and he barked a short and knowing laugh as he walked away.
There was work to do before morning, and then the next day, too.
-------
Two mornings later…
The sun wasn’t up yet, but that wasn’t discomfiting anyone. A full score of senior Aun hunters were with us this time, on their own Disks or up on the Wagon, supplementing the Guard Aspirants heading back with Sir Darvis in charge.
I was up on top at the front, Detects ranging out, the Aun staying close to the sides of the Wagon on their Disks as the Mick raced across the dark waters under the starlight.
I was /tellepathically broadcasting the Detect results, as not everyone was Marked or in Allegiance, or even close to it. Multiple Fellowships in Alliance, however, could power a Heavens-Up Display to the eyes of everyone, and so everyone was watching the X’s and O’s up in the sky, their colors, and what they corresponded to by my best guess.
The Aquatics weren’t really watching for us, and we weren’t making a flashy display or making noise. The Waveskating Step didn’t really make any sound, although the slight ripple of its passing would attract attention from the tremblesense of the fish and remorans as something slicing across the top of the water with great speed… and great speed was a threat, not a meal. With all lights off and nothing else touching the water, the Wagon and its Disks were effectively ghosts that would only be seen visually if we passed right over something… which the HUD made sure didn’t happen.
Getting close to the island was somewhat more difficult, as the number of moarsmen surrounding the place from the sea was quite impressive, as well as the fact they were at least twice the level of most of the moarsmen Summons we’d seen on the island.
None of which I heeded overmuch as the singing tones of Shards turning into Shardrays lanced out brilliantly in the night, and remorans further out in the sea who had learned to associate the Sublime Chord with food about to be created came winging in to see what there was to eat quickly.
I sliced us a path through a dozen packs of Moarsmen, the Mick Spellcut the Shoreward as he’d been practicing for some time, and we were inside the field of force as the sea behind us became a frothing mess of remoran schools coming in and starting a feeding frenzy, right in the middle of a lot of moarsmen shrieking alarms and being caught up in what rapidly became an extremely bloody and chaotic fun time in the sea.
The calls of alarm from the sea rapidly became something more ferocious and panicked as moarsmen and remorans started ripping into one another. Further away from the shore, the sleeches just kind of sat back and watched, probably grabbing nibbles torn off the dead as they did so.
More dead meant more blood, which meant more hungry remorans coming in. The moarsmen weren’t smart, but they were smart enough to realize they weren’t going to win against an ocean full of shark-rays, and they rapidly scattered to get out of range of the blood-mad things.
We came onto the shore as silently as the wind, no lights up, the HUD invisible to anyone not in it.
The HUD also showing several yellow X’s scattered about the shoreline as we came up, X’s who could not be Summons!