Chapter Thirty-Six - Ideological Idiocy

I reached into the celestial bong, once again thankful that unlife had bestowed upon me some rather thin and flexible fingers to work with. I gripped my fingertips around the small stone at the centre of the device, then gave it a slight tug.

It came free from the little brackets holding it in place with a satisfying clink.

Pulling it out of the neck of the bottle was a somewhat more difficult task, but I managed it all the same with a bit of finagling, which left me holding onto a small rock some five centinecrometres long by two wide at its centre. It was a very precisely cut stone, hundreds of triangular facets creating an oval that was at once smooth and very jagged.

The stone itself, if memory served, was nothing too special. Some sort of limestone, perhaps? Tough but still workable.

There was a tendency in the magical community to equate the potency of a magical reagent to its value.

This was patently ridiculous. Magic itself generally didn't care about monetary value. How could it? Would it know that upon founding a new diamond mine the value of such had dipped and therefore more would be needed to resurrect a freshly dead companion?

Nonsense.

Still, the rumours and ideology persisted, leading to some quite ridiculous use of reagents. Dragon's spit? You could use water with some crushed red peppers! It was both cleaner and more efficient, not to mention the cost of hiring some gullible adventurers--or worse, a bard--to kill and-or seduce a local dragon for their spit! Exorbitantly expensive.

Now, some reagents were expensive, yes, but that was happenstance. A spell that called for eggshell would be more potent if the egg shell in question belonged to a drake, yes, but that was because the drake was a naturally magical creature.

My point being that value has no direct ties to magical capability. It behoves a mage of any calibre to test their reagents and some alternatives to determine their true magical potency. In this case, I'd long discovered that while gems did generally allow for more powerful magic to be tied to them, they also leaked like metaphorical sieves.

A simple rock had better long-term magical retention than any sort of jewel, and to counteract that loss of potency over time requires specific safeguards tied into the magic.

One doesn't want to wake up one day to discover their ruby-tipped wizard's staff unable to send out sparks, after all.

I tossed the little phylactery up, caught it, then slipped it into a pocket for later. "Well, that's that," I said.

Alex perked up. The maid had sorted the items we found into neat rows, these rows were within sectors, which in turn were sorted into broad categories. This did mean that some rows had singular items within then, but that was fine.

I stood and handed the celestial bong to Alex who took it with a slight bow and darted over to the home appliance category, living room sector, second row.

"That seems well sorted out," I said as I tugged a handkerchief from a pocket and wiped my hands clean. "I wonder what we'll do with all of this."

Alex smiled and gestured to one of the more full rows. "I took the liberty to add another level to the sorting, bone daddy."

"Oh?" I asked.

"Yes! They're now also sorted by estimated value. The further left the object the higher the estimated market value."

"Well done, that maid!" I said as I reached over and gave Alex a congratulatory pat between the ears. "In the coming centuries your contributions to the maidly art of loot sorting shall be well-remembered."

Alex swelled with pride. "Thank you!"

"Still, that doesn't quite answer my initial question."

"Oh, yes, I had a solution," Alex proposed.

"I'm listening," I said.

Alex gestured to the items. "Some of these are somewhat dangerous, I suggest that we set those aside into two secondary categories. Sub-categories for dangerous materials, essentially. One for those that are dangerous but not interestingly so." Alex reached down and scooped up a small scepter-like weapon. It was brimming with magical potential. A force spell was woven into it, a severely overpowered one for the container that held it. It was liable to explode at a single blow.

"I see, and the other?"

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"Items which are dangerous but might be worth studying." Alex gently placed the sceptre down and picked up a sword. It was a flying sword. It had enchantments woven into it not dissimilar to a witch's flying broom, which was, of course, patently ridiculous. Why put those on a sword? Brooms already had terrible form-factors. A thin rod stuck in one's fork? That was just unkind to the male mage. A sword. Now that was just a joke.

Still, it might be worth studying, the enchantment was somewhat novel.

"I see, and what of the rest?" I asked.

"These valuables should be catalogued and given to the Limpet."

"My test subject? I see... I suppose there might be some value in giving her magical armaments, armour, weapons, and a host of small utility items. Do you think she'd put any of this to good use?"

I tapped the end of an oxford against a sword. This one was merely enchanted to be sharper and more durable, though it was quite pretty. Very... curvy compared to the swords the average fighter tried to chop at me with.

"I think that Miss Limpet will be able to sell, reforge, or use most of these things in due time. She is starting a small kingdom that should quickly expand to an empire. Those sorts of things require significant investments to function."

"Ah, yes," I said. I'd done empire-building a few times. Lots of fun. Empire upkeep, on the other hand? Awful business. No fun at all. Alex was right, though, starting an Empire of any sort, even a tiny humble one, required initial capital. Or, excluding that, it would require a massive ideological push.

My Limpet didn't have the time or the charisma to enact the latter, so any growth would have to be fueled by plain old gold. It was the easiest way to start. It was also the least tenable in the long run.

Oh, an Empire could grow rich and fat on plunder, but eventually it would run out of things to plunder and the bills come in regardless. "How is she handling it so far, by the way?" I asked.

"I overheard her muttering about taxes," Alex said.

"Oh good, she's getting the hang of it." I chuckled darkly. "Taxes are the lifeblood of a nation. And also the number one reason for dissent, rebellion and other ills." Rebellions, contrary to what the common folk raised on pretty stories might believe, never started from the bottom.

It started from the top. Usually a few people with lots of wealth who were losing that wealth in ways they weren't happy with would funnel their earnings into fomenting a rebellion, and then things would take off and become quite chaotic for a while.

I knew, because I'd started my share of those. When one had a nation of the undead whose inner economy was non-existent, one found themselves with ful coffers and plenty of reasons to pay for an annoying neighbour's demise.

"Ah, better times," I sighed.

"I think the Limpet is considering ways to attract more trade and build up her armed forces. She will have to consolidate the region before moving onwards," Alex said.

"Hmm, very true. Actually, while she's up to that... do you recall reports of Death Knights in the region?"

"Yes, Bone Papa," Alex said.

I nodded. "I do as well. And yet... nothing. Strange. Seventeen might have been the cause for reports about necromancers and the like, but Death Knights specifically? What a strange little plot hole."

Alex blinked at me, waiting for elaboration.

"I think, dear Alex, that it's about time we venture northwards. There is one city we've yet to visit within the Flaming Steppes, isn't there?"

"Opalhorn," Alex said. "The seat of the Flame's heart sect."

Yes, the old rivals to the Ashen Forest. They'd been a very mild thorn in our side, hadn't they? And yet... not truly. Their involvement in things was mild, and from a great distance. Now that I was thinking about it, something was off about that.

"Well, time to pay them a quick visit. Toss all those through the portal and let's zip along!"

Alex squirmed. "Toss, Bone Father?"

"Oh, fine, you can gently place it on the other side. Do sort it, and keep it out of the hands of those mantises. But make it snappy! We have a city to burn!"

Opalhorn. A final visit while we were in the region, and then it was back to see how the Limpet was faring with her little kingdom building project.

I hoped she wasn't failing to keep up her practice too!

***