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Boneclock Epilouge

Boneclock Epilouge

And so ends the tale of death and life. Of a world at the center of divine peace, and the origin of the seventeenth Great Goddess, Mor'fa'ath, Great Goddess of Deadly Deals. But her story does not end with the ambrosia of the Riftborn. It is merely the beginning. But you do not want to follow the slow ascension of a goddess, I am sure. There are other tales to tell, and I, as the playwright, cannot become stagnant. No, you crave more, more tales seen by the unseen eye, more poems composed by the lost poet, more victories and tragedies won and lost by all from the mortal to the divine. As I have put to celestial paper the stories of a million before, so too will a million more be seen by I and be written into immortality by my pen.

But, there is a final act to this tale, and the endings that all of the actors must be given. So, with the final scribbles of my pen, their stories shall come to a close.

*=====*

Yutrad sat in the command hut, rubbing his temple, “So she’s gone,” he said, “She walked in here, said that she’s leaving, and left.”

“Pretty much,” Aetra confirmed, “At least she didn’t just disappear on us without warning.”

“But question remains,” B’yldynl, the stone man from Nolus, interrupted, “Can we hold city?” They all fell into silence at that. Yutrad agreed with the man. They had only been able to do what they had because of the fact that Mori’s undead were running roughshod over the city. There were enemies that were too strong to just leave alone in that city, and the only way to ensure that a stampede of angry Clockworks-- which was an image Yutrad never thought he would have to envision-- did not topple governments was to stop them there.

“Can we call in more mercs for help?” Dan West, the barely-legitimate pirate from the same city as B’yldynl asked, “So many parts would be a good haul for anyone, let alone for people who could properly collect them all.”

“That could work,” Aetra, the lycant replied, “But that would take far too long, and the Clockworks could form a stampede at any time they pleased. Does anyone have any immediate ideas?”

“Burn it,” Ajex, the cult leader from the same city as Dan and B’yldynl suggested, “If we can’t claim the prize anyway, we might as well remove the danger around it. There is no point in holding on if it does not benefit us.”

There was another silence that fell over the table. What she was saying was entirely correct; they could not hold the city and trying to do so anyway would only lead them to losing everything. The problem, though, came from the fact that there was a lot of money in that city. Clocksteel, while somewhat plentiful, was also in constantly-high demand. A city’s worth of it would sate the market for a few years, and leave the sellers with a king’s ransom.

Destroying that city, though, would also destroy that king’s ransom. The mages in their force could likely incinerate the place wholesale, but that would destroy the metal they could secure to make the campaign a success. And, besides that, Yutrad had this nagging feeling that mages casting their biggest fireball would not help them with the truly massive enemies.

“What about the dragons?”Jermy suggested.

Germy nodded, glaring at his Affexian counterpart, “As much as it pains me to say, he’s right. We can’t do this without the help of the dragons.”

“Won’t work,” B’yldynl answered, “Dragons off fighting airskiffs. Won’t come back after. Suffered wounds; no reason to, if Clockworks can’t fly.”

“Okay, so we can’t call in help,” Ushkia, the Nikolan representative, summarized, “So we need to do this on our own. I’ll be damned if we couldn’t fight some buckets of gears, even if those buckets are pretty big! So, how about this:” As she explained her plan, they had a glimmer of hope ignite in their eyes. When she finished her explanation, they all voted for it unanimously.

*=====*

Cecilia gripped on for dear life as the prototype skiff below her shot through the ripped up streets of Aekan, shaking like a dog in the Gribnik rain, “Are you sure they checked this one!?” she shouted to Raaz. The insectoid just shrugged in response. He could not properly write without taking his hands off of the handlebars of the skiff below him. Cecilia had to wonder where the thought of the design, being nothing but a vertical stick with footholds and handlebars. It was obviously made to be cheap and fast, which suited Cecilia quite well.

She and her formation peeled off into one of the tracts of land flattened by the lichess’ weird moving mountain. Behind them, the building was flattened under a stampede of Clockworks, all shooting bullets and whatever else they had been built to spit at them. Cecilia looked forwards and grinned, “We’re almost out! Get ready!” They reached the outer wall in little time, and zoomed out into the scorching sands. Behind them, it sounded as if fury itself. Cecilia’s host of skiff riders continued forwards, even as the cannons began to thunder. She spared a look behind her, where she saw a large wall of mana surrounding the Clockworks. Warskiffs emerged from the dunes and let loose salvos into the trapped mass of Clockworks. Mages cast their spells, raining everything from fire to entropy itself onto the Clockworks. Cecilia’s host of ‘herders,’ as they were called, stopped and watched the carnage.

That group was the last one of the day, and they were off from their work the next day, which meant that she could spend it with her girlfriend, Vitnami. And her bonehawk, Vunka. He… She… It decided to tell her what it was once the lichess left, and Cecilia had a lot to learn when Vunka let that cat out of the bag. All in all, though, Cecilia was happy with her life, if not a bit sad that she could not get into the thick of things like she usually did. But she had found the life of a soldier a life that suited her, and she did not want to lose it.

*=====*

In the aftermath of the Battle of Aekan, it was eventually determined that there were over three and a half million Clockworks in the Hive, over a hundred thousand of those being accepted as more intelligent variants. When the final Clockwork was destroyed, the city had been ‘under siege’ for over eight months, and many groups had flocked to the once-great city to take a small slice of the lucrative pie found in its ashes.

The scale of wealth found at Aekan after the conclusion of the battle caused a figurative gold rush, with scavengers banding together into massive fleets of skiffs with the sole goal of gathering clocksteel. At first, the JALF partook in the looting, but once the skiff fleet was full to bursting with wealth and the soldiery was homesick, the command staff decided to go home to their respective cities. With such high movement across the Vast Dust, many of the old trading routes proved to be unable to sustain the strain, so new ones were established. Instead of there being nothing but a single path between cities to travel, dozens of trade routes were established all across the Vast Dust. This brought incredible wealth to trading cities like Green Oasis and gave the reason for other cities to be established.

With wealth came progress, and Mount Averus soon released a machine that would let crops be grown in the desert, though it required a great deal of mana. With the abundance of parts in Aekan, though, mana dynamos dropped in price, letting the field of thaumaponics expand greatly. The age was characterized as one of great wealth, progress, and culture. Where notions of the old were thrown out in favor of greater ventures. Such as in Gribnik.

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*=====*

Duke Jiklac stood his ground as peasants charged him, clocksteel spears held high. He batted one away with his shield, then sliced the neck of another, separating her head from her body, “Stay back!” he roared, ducking as another spear nearly punctured his head. Ever since he had been ‘detained,’ which was closer to being imprisoned like a lowly peasant, he had been on a rapid decline. When word of his state reached the king’s ear, he demoted him and dismissed him as a knight.

He kicked with all of his strength, feeling the ribs of a man break as he was thrown back. The mob returned his attack with a fury, though, some damdable spellcaster spitting fire at him from the crowd. He had to back up, nearly tripping over the bodies of his last manor guards in the process. They were the only ones who opted to defend him when the mob stormed into the manor. The rest surrendered the weapons in his armor and allowed themselves to be captured.

He cursed the cowards out in his mind. Them, as well as the local Blue Robe priest, who turned tail and ran at the first sign of revolt. Even after being dishonored by the king himself, he had a strong base of power, made up of those who held him as their liege. But, soon, the very bottom of the totem pole that was Gribnik’s social order decided to unsettle everything. The peasants revolted, Duke Jiklac’s feudal lessers either joining or dying to the revolt. The one that led to him, standing his ground in his own castle.

The mob approached again, and his back was against the wall. He had to do something, or this peasant mob would actually manage to kill a duke. No matter what, he could not let that happen. So, he drank in the mana from the air around him, from his illusionary secondary organs, and his armor to overcharge himself. He roared out in triumph and charged the line of farmers and tradesmen.

They did not back down and held firm, much to his delight. They just made it easy for him to flatten them. The line, though, suddenly glowed with some otherworldly light, channeled into the tips of their spears. They all thrusted at once, piercing his armor, and his body.

When the pain finally hit him, he was held aloft by the line’s spears, all of them staring at his helmeted head in blank confusion. When he coughed, spitting up blood, a cheer rose in them. All Duke Jiklac could do was stare, even as the light dimmed from his eyes, as his own peasants paraded his body around his throne room like a parade decoration.

*=====*

“About time,” Aetra growled, reading the report. She had already lost the communal bet on how long it would take for the people of Gribnik to utilize the help the other cities-- including Nolus and the two Affexes-- had offered to them. While using such cloak and dagger tactics was not what Aetra was used to, it was agreed that Gribnik needed to change. They had a large population and, with the advent of thaumoponics and the removal of the one piece of leverage Gribnik had over the other cities, food, those in power were more comfortable with wiping away the last vestige of the old ways.

She tossed the report to the side, leaning forward to find a more comfortable position for her lower half. Once the spot was found, she smiled and looked around her new office. Her work in Aekan had earned her a fast track to the upper echelons of power, which suited her quite well. The boss got to have the fun, after all, and there were plenty of fun things to research that fell outside of her sociology degree. She had a bright future, and she was eager to start.

*=====*

Yutrad smiled as he read the letter from Ushkia. The old woman knew that she had little time left, and she sent out some farewell letters to those who she thought deserved it. Or something like that. While he was sad that she was going to meet the Creators so soon, he had a feeling that she would slip past her own deadline by a month or two.

He laid the letter to the side of his desk, smiling as someone knocked on the door, “Come in,” he said. The door opened, and a middle aged orc in leather armor escorted two young adults, a young woman and man, into his office, “Thanks for coming, you three. From what I hear, you had a decent relationship with one Mori Athanatos, no?” he asked.

The three looked between each other, and the orc, Zubov, shrugged, “Good enough. Why? Did you want to know something?” Yutrad smiled. Maybe he could get to the bottom of just where Mori came from after all. She was a painful enough thorn in his side to warrant it, after all. And, besides, most interesting people have interesting backstories. He might be able to find something interesting during the investigation.

*=====*

Philip, Bella, and Kevin all sat around the table, looking at the diagram Kevin had created, “I think it would work,” Philip said, “But wouldn’t it be a bit costly?” Bella nodded with him, eying the estimated price with warriness.

“Maybe, but we’ve got enough money to pool it together. With all ninety of us, it’ll be a good place to make a living. I mean, we could start a shipping company once the clocksteel dries up,” Kevin explained, “This might have been a bit too much to make if we didn’t have a massive pile of materials lying just over the horizon, but since we have that pile of materials… you get my point, no?”

“Yes, we do… How long will it take?” Philip asked.

Bella shrugged, “Even if it took a while, we can live off of the pension we get from being part of Eaner’s fleet. But I would like to get back to civilization… Okay, yeah, how long?”

Kevin sighed at his two partners in their shipping company venture, “About a month. Maybe a month and a half. Magic makes everything easier, so a skiff the size of a cargo freighter is quite easy to make. I think the problem is that no one’s wanted to make something this large because of the costs. But… Yeah, you get it.” The three nodded and continued to plan out the skiff that would one day be the basis of a globe-spanning trade empire.

*=====*

“So you’re tellin’ me,” The dwarven woman began, “That a surface dwelling, gods blessed lich crashed into your cavern and just… took the offerings from the gods, fought off a giant Clockwork, and left.”

“Yep,” Dunc replied, “Ask The Keeper if you don’t believe me.”

The woman eyed him, “I just might. Anyway, how long has that hole been there? We might be able to beg the gods’ forgiveness for gazing upon the sky once more if you haven’t been looking out there. You haven’t been looking out into the sky, have you?”

“Look, the gods haven’t punished us for being here, nor did they when the lich lady pulled us into a little adventure above ground-”

“YOU DID WHAT!?” the lady shouted, her voice echoing off of the walls, “But- How- You-”

“Calm down, lady. If we need to stay here for another century to prove that it’s safe, we just might.”

The woman could only stare as she looked between the Dunc and the hole in the cavern’s ceiling, “I… have to talk to my superiors. You five… stay here. I don’t want the wrath of the gods to fall anywhere but on your heads.”

The woman began to leave, and Dunc just waved goodbye. Sitting back down at his table. Gruff, who had been dozing through the entire visit by the king’s knight, woke up at that moment, “Hey, boss. What happened to the lady?” he asked.

“She left,” Dunc replied.

“Huh,” Gruff said, “So she did.” At that, he leaned back and fell back to sleep. Dunc just shook his head. Business as usual, that was. But he liked it-- he preferred it over having necrohappy liches bursting through the ceiling, anyway.

*=====*

Many other players took their leave, one after another, and had their ends. The Scavenger of Stone eventually created a small community centered around a junkyard. The Woman of Faith expanded her beliefs, creating a small, widespread following. The Man of Many Skiffs expanded his fleet and took over Nolus, improving it till his dying day. The twin Affexes continued their feuding, until a soldier’s revolt overtook them all, uniting the isle once and for all.

The world was also given a good ending, with the slow, steady disappearance of the Clockworks from the world. Its scale was not noticed until all of the metal creatures had left the world, but few cared for the reason at that point. Generations had passed, and only the dragons and elves and spirits remembered the Clockworks.

But this is not the end for our main character, Mori Athanatos. Her story has a longer ending, one that, no doubt, will branch out into a million other tales to be inscribed upon the cosmos. But it is not wise to ignore the effects she had on the others she left behind. The friends she had to leave, and the enemies she overcame. Because they all have stories and tales. But I am but one bard, and I cannot document them all. But I can give brief glimpses into their lives as their paths cross our hero’s, and that is fine by me.