In a few hours the sun will rise, and the mine will be reopened. Yesterday the Caverknights arrived by horse and scouted out the natural catacombs. Though I missed most of it, I was able to spend a little time watching them. In total there are 40 men, which is apparently more than what’s normally supplied to towns of this size. There are archers, spearmen, bola throwers, and even a trio of obvious mages! I think it’s safe to say they’re preparing for the population to grow and have gone ahead and come in force.
Indeed, all signs point to the explosive rise of Sevit and I don’t know whether I should be scared or excited. I can’t help but wonder how many hoops I’d have to jump through in order to purchase land under my name, property values are going to soar!
Yesterday I notified Wes that my first batch of revolutionary (A dungeon can dream.) pseudo-CMUs was ready for pickup. He assured me that he’ll have everything in order for when the Caverknights give the go-ahead. I really want to see how he explains away the sudden new source of quarried blocks. Though let’s be honest, it’s Wes we’re talking about, he’ll probably just tell the full truth as he understands it. Not that I’m bothered by that, mind you, if anything I respect the man for his honesty.
Rather than spend the next few hours being productive, such as by finishing “Principles of Runescript,” I take a break and admire my surroundings.
The settlement of Sevit predictably coincided with the optimal window of time for planting. By now the farmer’s fields have spread far out over the surface and a multitude of diverse crops are beginning to sprout. The town is growing rapidly, new buildings are being erected left and right. The most prominent constructs: the administration building, barracks, and Weston’s building were also finished. For the most part, the administration building and Weston’s building were empty. I presume governors will eventually arrive to staff the former. As for the latter, the word on the street is that Weston is looking to found his own side company. I’ll definitely be sure to weasel out the details during our next correspondence.
Any land not occupied by man has rapidly recovered from the previous volcanic calamity. Sure, the soil is exceptionally fertile due to the burning of the forest, but things are still moving along much quicker than expected. No doubt the mana well’s presence is to blame. The rolling hills are blanketed in wavy grasses and wildflowers. Sprigs of saplings race to outcompete their neighbors; this area could very well become lightly reforested in just a few years! Nearly a kilometer away runs the, surprisingly straight, slow moving wide river. It has potential as a shipping lane, hopefully there aren’t any waterfalls downstream.
Gazing up at the night sky for a few minutes, I make an intriguing observation. Looking closely at the moon, I notice that it’s a solid grey, much like Luna. (When viewed from the planet’s surface, of course.) But let me reiterate, it’s a solid grey. As far as I can tell, there aren’t any visible features such as darker regions resembling, for example, Luna’s Sea of Tranquility. Furthermore, there are no visible craters on its surface! Though I haven’t noticed any issues prior to this moment, I can’t yet rule out the possibility that my odd brand of dungeon sight is the source of the visual anomaly. Oh, what a mystery this is! I’ll need to cross reference my observation with a human and maybe consider building a telescope.
…
The sun crossed the horizon and the townsfolk began to filter out of their homes. True to his word, Wes took care of hiring a crew of porters to pull a fleet of wooden drays. The Caverknights, who slept in the recently finished barracks, promptly took their stations at the mine’s entrance and stood aside as Weston’s men entered the sloping shaft with their rickety drays in tow. Trailing behind were the miners, I suppose they’re here for more than just breaching the first subterrane.
Wes didn’t stand around idly, he joined his hired hands in the confines of the passage, presumably to guide them to the collection point.
Initiating contact with Wes, who is probably just as much in need of direction as his laborers, I said, “Hey Weston, I’m glad you’ve made it. After entering the cave, follow the tunnel upwards, you’ll have no difficulty spotting the block cache.”
He expressed his understanding and then directed the haulers through the natural corridor.
If I was more rational, I would’ve opened the airlock prior to their arrival, however, the showman in me was having none of that. Though I did go ahead and seal the inner door.
Weston and his crew arrived before what, to them, must’ve appeared to be a solid rhyolite slab blocking a clearly artificial tunnel branching away from the cave’s path.
And to be fair, that’s exactly what it was. Of course, the “slab door” is simply the visible portion of a much wider rolling stone wheel with a 3 meter diameter, which is mostly obscured from their sight. I give them the chance to read the writing I’d carved into the door’s visible face: “Property of Weston Lomarec, no trespassing.”
Their reactions were underwh- oh wait, they’re illiterate.
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
Wes steps forward to take a look, and raises an eyebrow at my message but doesn’t otherwise react. I’ll surprise him one day, mark my words! With that taken care of, I dislodge one of the gigantic fungiwood wheel chocks wedged under the door and begin to roll it aside right before the crowd’s eyes.
As I slowly and dramatically roll the gargantuan barrier into a recess in the wall, I consciously knock a few pebbles out of the ceiling for added effect. Moving the door while I’m alone is already difficult, but in the presence of humans, it takes even longer to push aside. I almost forgot about the effect non-minion creatures have on my abilities.
As I finish up my little performance, I glance around… Come on! I was killing it out there and my audience is barely reacting! I just shifted a multi-ton stone with magic and all they do is take a few steps back in response? Where’s the groveling or awe? What must these people’ve seen for this to be normal? Do I even want to find out?
I suppose magic’s psychological impact would be limited when observed by people who grew up in a world of mages and beasts, but still!
I gave Wes the go-ahead and he directed everyone inside. In the center of the room loomed a neatly stacked pile of a few thousand blocks, I expect the workers to be busy here for a good portion of the day.
The laborers stacked what they could pull in their drays and left the cave one-by-one. I followed the lead porter, and Wes who was with him, to what must’ve been a predefined drop-off just outside the town’s ever-widening perimeter. Gregor Dunn, the builder and architect whom I’d met so long ago was present as well. As the earliest hired hand began to unload the contents of the cart and Gregor excitedly jogged over to inspect the stone blocks.
Carefully analyzing the quality of my handywork, which I can assure you is of the highest order, Gregor turned to Wes with a broad smile on his face and said simply, “How much?”
Already prepared with an answer, Wes replied, “For now, two pieces per full-sized block. Same price for half-blocks. Of course, that price may be subject to change in the future, it remains to be seen if our supply will hold out.”
I take offense at that last statement, but quickly realize it’s just Wes doing what a greedy merchant does best.
Scratching his stubble, Gregor eventually nodded and said, “That’s fair. How many will there be in this first batch?”
“Precisely 3429 full-sized blocks. As for why that count is so specific, I honestly couldn’t say, my client went off about ‘harmonic means’ but it went right over my head. We’ll have the next batch ready in just a few more days.”
Heh, sometimes I get a little too carried away, huh?
Stopping to think for a moment, Gregor spoke up again and said, “Well, I’ll buy all 3429 of them right now, do we have a deal?”
Oh boy, that was easier than I expected it to be! After accounting for Weston’s 40% commission, that leaves a little over 4000 pieces for me! Money can buy so many things!
Only after shaking on the deal (And let me point out here, it’s interesting that this world’s people even practice the familiar gesture.) did Wes ask the question which had been at the back of both of our minds: “So what do you plan on using all the blocks for?”
Gregor said, “The Local Chamber’s members are sending their sons and successors to Sevit as we speak. They’re no doubt going to request for the construction of dwellings suitable for their station. I’ve made enough money lately that I feel safe taking on such an ambitious project for them!”
Apparently having already heard the news, Wes replied, “Well I’m glad to hear you’re taking on a new venture, and I won’t hide that I’m looking forward to supplying your company. Every day I grow more excited about the future of Sevit. I’m glad we took a slice of the cake early.”
Chuckling, Gregor said, “Indeed, indeed my friend! Nomisma has blessed us with good fortune! And to think, the Local Chamber is already mobilizing, Sevit is growing so fast that it already requires governors.”
As the conversation begins to wrap up, Gregor asks Wes if he could tell his workers to drop the blocks off at another location closer to the future site of his large project, to which Wes happily obliges.
Should I be worried about the Local Chamber’s meddling? From my understanding of Lyrian politics, I can essentially treat them as nobility; as the degree of nepotism in their ranks has reached a critical mass such that chamber positions are, in essence, self-perpetuatingly hereditary.
What if they do the unspeakable and attempt to tax my operation? Oh, the horror, I am trembling in fear!
For real though, they’d better not screw with me, I’ll have you know my cave centipedes are very scary!
Predictably, it’s time for me to bring attention to a new development in my dungeon. You surely saw this coming…
While the haulers were transporting my blocks, Mr. Normal deigned to grace me with his monotone presence:
<”Snatcher” Meganisoptera Nymph added to memory.>
<”Griffinfly” Meganisoptera added to memory.>
I can’t sense any newborns around, so I can only assume these giant dragonflies were naturalized into my dungeon instead. Meganisoptera is a prehistoric dragonfly from Earth’s Carboniferous period who sported a wingspan of 70 centimeters. The high partial pressure of oxygen during that era is what allowed them to reach such enormous sizes. What’s inconsistent here is that I know the “Griffinflies” of this world to express 3-meter-wingspans, so shouldn’t Mr. Normal have said “giant?”
Their nymphs are freshwater predators who lie in wait for prey. When a meal swims by, the nymph will spring from ambush and launch its extendable not-mandibles, or labium, outwards to snatch up the target. Needless to say, I think it’s obvious how these giant dragonfly nymphs got their nickname.
The adult griffinfly, as you know, eats aerial fauna. To support their high metabolism, they have runic respiratory pores running down the length of their long abdomen, much like the giant glow worm fungus gnats, except in much greater numbers. Another difference is that, rather than circulating mana through every pore simultaneously, the griffinflies rhythmically activate the runes in ordered succession, like a ripple traveling down their bodies.
You would think a dungeon core would have the ability to hijack the sight of its minions and see the world from their perspectives but alas, I cannot. Therefore, I won’t be able to use these mighty predators as ‘scouts,’ as disappointing as that is. Even so, I can still think of several applications for my griffinflies.