“It’s a good sign. And it's what we’re looking for.” Els turned to me with a fanatic grin. “That, my boy, is the song of iron.”
“Ah." I nodded in understanding. "My mother did mention being able to sense ores. I never imagined it to be through sound, though.”
“Of course it's sound! You thought all that talk of the stones' voices was metaphorical?” He exclaimed.
"Yes, actually."
“Agh! Wet sandstone, your mind is sometimes!" He tossed his arms in frustration. "Yer a creature of the Darkworld! Dwelling deeper even than my kind. It’s said dwarves and drow have been at odds since our folk first came to the Darkworld and got corrupted into the Gray Ones. All dwarves learn about them and Drow growing up. Though, for most of us, yall are just Faerie tales."
“Oh?” I smiled at him as I sent the void cutting into the rock without resistance. “Do tell.”
“Well, your kind is harmed by sunlight. But you don’t seem to mind.” He harrumphed. “That aside from that, y’all can't take the heat but can see further in the dark than almost any other creature. Y’all have outstanding hearing and a great sense of touch, but your sense of smell is weaker than other elves. But like all creatures from the Darkworld, Drow has an understanding of the stones around us. Like this carving of yours.” He gestured to my magic. “You ever done this before? Ever had practice?”
“Once. And no.” I shrugged. And it wasn’t a lie. “I haven’t exactly practiced this.”
“Yet, everything you’ve carved is structurally sound. Reinforcements are a contingency, I know.” He waved his fat hand. “But the fact is, dwarves, drow- even deep gnomes, all have a type of stone sense. But drow senses are said to be all, elegant and curvy.” He waved both hands this time in a mocking display. “You care about sculpting and you understand how fluids move. And it's said your kind can sense not just metals but even gems and Drowcraft.”
“Drowcraft, huh?” I skeptically smiled, though his words mostly fell in line with my mother’s stories. Fantastical though they were. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen or tried it. And while other elves may have better noses than us, ours are still leagues better than humans. But what else do you know?”
“That half-drow are rare but tougher than pure drow.” He said. “Part of being a human, we say. You can use the abilities of both and the weaknesses of both parents is somewhat diminished.”
“Interesting,” I commented aloud. Then remained silent after cutting into the conspicuously auspicious vein. That said, it wasn’t as if iron deposits were rare or anything. But still, I was hoping Telin would’ve blessed me with some Mithral or something. But that, I was aware, could only be found in the Darkworld. So I took my wins as they came and gathered a bit of iron to take back upstairs.
The warehouse at the top of the shaft was barren and unmarked for now. Only a half-round room obstructed by the staircase reaching down from the center, with preinstalled stone pallets to neatly store the wood, stone, and now ore. Continuing up provided much the same scenery as below. Only it was more spacious and sparsely furnished. The entrance to the basement sat in an alcove just to the right of the kitchen, which in turn was just to the right of the entrance. Beyond that was an open space filled with most of the party, scattered amongst three crude tables that’d been emplaced around a smoldering hearth.
Upon seeing the jovial atmosphere, Els plopped himself down to tend to an ale kept in his satchel while I decided to pop the hearth’s cherry by making a dish the party was sure to love. Chicken and dumplings. When it was made I gathered the class around for a meal and even gave Doyle a bowl. He’d been silently watching me cook the whole time, taking notes and refusing to intervene. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t sit in for a fine meal.
He bowed his thanks while taking the bowl from my hand and sat on a stool in the corner. And after watching his face light up with the first bite, I couldn’t help but grin in satisfaction.
After wallowing over their reactions for a while, I finished my dinner and went outside for a smoke. Only to find a certain silver-haired man standing off in the shade, blowing clouds into the back of the waterfall. “Care to share?”
His spine stiffened before he leaped just a few centimeters off the ground, wheeled around, and faced me with his hands clasped behind his back.
“It’s no secret that you smoke, Doyle. You don’t have to hide it.”
“Smoking in front of my students is unprofessional.” He feigned a smile. “It’s a nasty habit that you all are too young to pick up.”
“Oh, so we’re old enough to kill, drink, and join a guild or military, but not old enough to smoke?” I pulled out a smoke of my own with a laugh.
“Chahaha! It’s a nasty addiction, is all.” He laughed. “I don’t want to be the reason any of you start.”
“Fair enough.” I shrugged with mild interest. “If you care to pass the time, I’m interested in your Class. You said you were a Battle Mage? What level?”
“Twelve!” Doyle beamed. “Battle Mages blend spellcasting with martial combat. Something you seem to have a knack for.”
“Eh.” I shrugged. “I’m more interested in learning how to make things. I’m only becoming a Monk out of necessity.”
“Well.” He looked over my shoulder and let out a small laugh. “You have a knack for that too. But I can’t tell you about Perks just yet, so be patient and keep doing what you’re doing.”
“Right…”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
---
After my prompt exit, I went to my quarters to meditate and woke up at midnight to go topside and release the Menagerie to hunt and pull security while I smoked and worked in the sweet silence of the night. I used Void Whips to carve pipe structures that snaked from the cliff face and snaked them to each room. Then used the Wrath Form to install mirrors in each junction to reflect the light into the interior without disturbing the occupants. After that, I went outside to the ‘porch’ and took an immediate right to carve out a relatively large annex and morphed the stone inside to make a set of furnaces paired with a rudimentary forge. Then relocated to the basement to carve out an access hatch connecting said forge to a proper workshop.
The workshop itself was positioned next to the warehouse. Which had now been furnished with support beams and sconces fastened into stone pegs along with more raised stone pallets arranged throughout the center. On which sat mostly wooden supports for the various rooms and alcoves to be constructed, as well as firewood and raw lumber, cut stone blocks, and a pile of bones. I took the bones for myself, as they’d be useful later, and then elected to extend both the workshop and freezer by a fair margin before I returned topside to lounge about with a serving of leftovers.
It was just after five when I returned from my obligatory smoke break and found the early birds finishing up with their breakfast. Including Doyle, who jumped from his seat to catch up to me before I could turn about and disappear.
“I thought all the work had been completed last night.” Doyle chuckled dryly as he gestured to the new forge. “Impressive doesn’t fit the bill. Have you done this before?”
“I have actually,” I smirked at him. Then paused to part the waterfall and ascend to the top of the cliff. “For a small town in Maru. Though calling it a settlement would be more apt.” I mumbled as we came to a rest, then turned to scan the horizon. Pausing as my eyes fell on his. “It was my first request.”
His brows furrowed before he squinted at me, shaking his head. “They wanted you to build a city for them?”
“They wanted me to kill bandits.” I snorted. “So I did, and I offered to solve their other problems as well.”
“In exchange for loyalty, I presume?” Doyle scratched his chin, piercing the morning with an ear-raising racket. “That’s not a good look for a future Guild Master.”
“I have no intentions to rule or conquer anyone. Nor do I wish to help everyone in need. I am an explorer,” I said, looking into his eyes. “But if people ask for my assistance and I decide to help them, then I’m going to truly help them. That doesn’t mean slaying whatever oppresses them for coin and going on my merry way. It means ensuring they can feed themselves, keep themselves warm- keep themselves fed, and safe well after I am gone.
“As for that place in Maru, it was the citizens who agreed to name me their lord, though I did give them the option,” I said. “They made that decision after I built a proper village for them, trained their guards, educated them, and left the leaders and other professionals in whatever positions they held prior to my arrival.”
“In that case, it sounds like you’ve already stepped down the path of a Guild Master.” He smiled with misplaced pride. “I know I probably shouldn’t say this, but I envy you. You’re only fifteen, and you’ve already done what I couldn’t do.”
Instead of asking, I stayed silent in the hopes of him rambling on his own. Unfortunately, he simply lifted his head and tossed his despair aside with a meaningless excuse. “But what can I expect from a necromancer?”
“I don’t have any undead.” I shook my head. “Only a few wraiths and poltergeist that I left in another’s control. No shadows.”
“Oh.” He hung his head in disappointment. Turned away, then glanced back at me to ask. “Why?”
“I’m waiting for a candidate who meets my criteria,” I said.
He turned to fully face me, his head tilted to the side like a confused dog. “Does that include a sentient creature?”
“I do want something that can speak, yes,” I admitted with a shrug. “But I was thinking something along the lines of a mythical beast. Maybe a minotaur or something.” I grinned. Then turned away and let out an Umbral Whistle before he could ask any questions. Surprisingly, he hunched forward once I let it loose and cradled his ears once the echoes dispersed. Then stomped to full height at once, throwing his gaze to me before it was pulled to the source of a sudden rumble permeating the air.
Following his bulging eyes, I saw Chako, Orpheus, Jima, and Hatchi leading a mob of stampeding shadow beasts. They ran without a hint of slowing as they approached. Some were bloodied and bruised while others were as healthy as they’d been upon their release, but all of them were brimming with energy sourced from the twilight around them. And would be still once they fell into my Shadow Pocket to sleep the day away.
“I assumed you had summoned creatures.” Doyle cackled in maddened disbelief. “But the fact that you have so many is… astounding to say the least.”
“Why?” I snorted. “As you said, I’m a necromancer- a summoner, by default.”
What little of Doyle's misplaced pride was left suddenly deflated as he sighed. “I suppose you’re right. But the only other person born with an affinity for death has hardly been seen in this Realm. There are necromancers, some creatures have death magic, and liches do exist, yes.” He nodded. “But they’re insignificant in the face of you or the Necro King. And he's rarely been seen in this realm at all.”
“I see.” I nodded. It was true that Grandpa Lich and I were separated by nearly four centuries. And the last ancestor before him to be born with death was separated by another four and a half centuries.
“I assume that’s where you learned all this?” He gestured to the cave far below our feet.
“Not exactly.” I snorted. “But it is something I learned when I was younger. That aside.” I waved the topic away before he could continue prying. “I’m curious about your time as an adventurer.”
“Oh.” He looked away, rubbing his head and smiling dumbly in a play of faux modesty. “I did my own thing for a time and eventually formed a party. Zeff and Olga were among them. At first, we followed the Polaris military north before eventually pushing east around the coast of the World Sea, into unexplored territory. It was rough.” He chuckled softly. “But we survived, grew stronger, and eventually made names for ourselves. In time, we started renting posh inns and living the finer life every time we returned to the civil world. But we’d also get pestered into joining the Polaris Military. every time. So.” He meekly shrugged. “We applied to become instructors here to get them off our backs. And, for the most part, it worked.”
“Why didn’t you want to join Polaris' military?” I asked.
“Most Mystics don’t.” He laughed back. “Why be the dog of an Emperor you’ve never seen when you hold the power to dictate your own terms? That’s the question many Mystics ask themselves when approached by them. Sure, there are places and dangers far beyond the limits of those without their support. But even then, those adventurers still have the choice to go in the first place or retreat as they see fit. Unlike in a military, where you’re at the mercy of orders.”
“That makes sense.”
“But it wasn’t always like this.” He continued. “Before Polaris and the Great Migration, few- if any nations had militaries that sought to conquer an entire Realm. There were only guilds who explored the Realms, recovering lost knowledge and uplifting civilizations. Something that I hear you wish to do.” He probed with a much-too-friendly bump of the elbow.
“I do,” I admitted. “But the word ‘guild’ is only a moniker for the first stage in my overall plan. To secure Ulai, I need more than a mere guild of a few hundred members. It needed thousands; if not millions of mystics, soldiers, and civilians."
“Ah.” Doyle rocked back in understanding. “So what you mean is, you intend to form your own empire?”
“Something like that.” I grinned.