While Mac's goons were running from place to place all over time to unravel the ultimate origin of the sweet crimson, and the disgraced knight duo were asking questions about its creator, a small army of young adults were frantically searching for just any drop of it.
Conform Scratch's instructions, Lucky had let Stanford from the guild organize a get-together with a specific one.
"Can I... can I have some of the stuff?" The young knight gulped and gasped, thick beads of sweat were running down her neck.
"Bitter Crimson," Lucky placed a vial on the parlor table, "not as tasty, but it satisfies the... itch."
As she reached out to it, Stanford pulled it away. "We do apologize for... all of this. Miss Beauregarde." He gave a sympathetic smile.
They were at his home in Eston, relatively lived in now that he had been a local cobbler for some time. They had made her skip training at the barracks in order to come beg for a forbidden substance. Disgrace wasn't a strong enough word for it, if anybody knew about this her life and future prospects would be destroyed. But the throes of addiction had already gotten hold of her, and she didn't have much choice.
"I've been a bandit, I've been among bandits. I know what crimson withdrawal does to a person," he looked into her pleading eyes, "but we must ask you to lend us your ear first."
"We want something in return," Mabel said from the door opening. She had at first decided not to show her face to the knight, but now she had apparently changed her mind.
"I have money... my family-"
"My dear girl, no," Stanford sighed, "this is not about the liquid. This is about the future."
Beaureagarde's eyes were locked onto the flask. "I don't understand."
"No, the withdrawal can do that. I mean the future. Have you considered who will keep your secrets?" He relented and let her have the bitter crimson, which she greedily gulped down.
As soon as she could breathe, she gagged in disgust, but she kept it down. Bitter crimson was much more like a medicine than its party girl sister.
The effects hit, her pupils dilated, and she felt at ease again. "You plan on blackmailing me." She said calmly.
Mabel uncrossed her arms in concern at her composure, but the others knew this was an effect of the drug, and not of some trump card providing confidence.
"You can call it blackmail if you want. We think of it as providing a discrete service," Stanford said, "from now on, you can come retrieve your medicine here, nobody has to see it, nobody passes it on."
"Maybe I'll kick the habit."
"My dear..."
She looked away, he didn't even need to argue, it was self evident that she couldn't. "Can't I just give you gold?"
"How would you like to be the new face of justice in Eston?" Stanford asked.
"What?"
"You already know most of the force will be moved to the new fortress once it's completed," Mabel said, "to assist in the proving."
"Yeah... how do you know about the proving?"
"That's not important right now," Stanford tapped the table to refocus her attention, "what's important is that the captain will have to delegate protecting the city to one of the recruits."
"Yeah..." she leaned her elbows on the table and supported her head, "it's probably going to be one of the Rochast's though..."
"No, it's going to be *you*."
"Whaaaa...?" She made a noise as if yelling in surprise, but at a more indoor volume. It had a slightly sarcastic effect.
"You're going to impress the captain greatly by discovering the identities of the shadow bandits in this town, and by rolling up various illegal enterprises."
She sat up straight, "no, what? You're giving up your shadow bandits? We hadn't even admitted they were real yet."
"We're giving up a lot of folk," Mabel said, "From now on, every time your people discover thieves' guild activity, you tell us. And we tell you to arrest over it."
"...the perpetrator?"
"In the beginning."
"Now then," Stanford stood up and stuck out his hand for a handshake, "I believe that's everything."
She stood up with him but hesitated at shaking.
"Need I remind you, miss Beauregarde" he whispered more sinisterly, "that the alternative is disgrace as an addict, loss of your family name, and even death?"
Mabel, who had lived with a formal noble for years, added some poignant words. "What would your parents think?"
Beauregarde was an adult, but she was a young adult, and those words scared her more than any previous. "Fine." She shook his hand. "But I have a limit. If anything happens like in what happened in Lacrima's orphanage... I can't cover for that."
"Fair enough, that is no longer our business." Mabel relented.
After she'd left, the guild leader added, "inside the city at least."
----------------------------------------
Your associates have secured a deal with the knight.
If you know about it, that means there must have been some falshoods.
Yes, but nothing that could ruin the arrangement.
Excellent. Are you comfortable?
The tent and slab above the wyrm shard had been removed and the crystal was now slowly being lifted out of its self-dug hole.
The goblins had gotten comfortable using cranes and wheels to move heavy objects when building the forge, and Second had devoted his time to creating a specialized tool for the job.
It was a circular casing surrounding the hole, from which several pulleys could lift and suspend the shard, and which could be moved on top of a modular rail.
The rail consisted of three parts, once the shell holding the wyrm shard was moved and secured to the front rail, the back rail was disconnected and attached to the front to move it the next few meters. It was a slow process, but it was stable.
I'm out of position, losing sight of the dungeon. The dragonbats might start misbehaving until I'm at my location.
Well it was your idea.
The shard was lifted into place and goblins all over began locking it into place so it would not sway.
Scratch had insisted there be someone in front, using flags to signal whether the vehicle should move or stop, but the poor creature had no idea what the flags were supposed to symbolize, and simply held them up over his head to signal a clear path.
I didn't have much choice, you created the summit of power in the desert with your troll garden. I need my shard to be at the end of that progression to fully exploit its magic.
Scratch idly waved his hands to give the go-ahead for moving the shard, but the goblins on the project weren't waiting on his signal, they were in sync with each other. So, are we going to discuss the talking statue?
You have spoken to Guth, Goddess of the Moon and of Magic. She is one of the twelve Gods that oppose us.
Does she know about you?
Most likely, yes. That's what's so curious about her offer, I can't figure out her true intentions.... Oh, I have to say; I can't detect lies if it's a God.
You might have to watch out, maybe I'll become her champion instead.
Cyclophan scoffed psychically. A god has only a single champion, that's what makes them a champion, an avatar for their power in the living world. A major Goddess like Guth would not waste her time on you.
Scratch rubbed his chin while keeping pace with the trolley, But she is looking isn't she? That's her plan for Lacrima, giving her an opportunity to prove herself.
That would not be surprising, a major Goddess can afford to be selective of her champion.
There was a definite accusatory undertone to the comment. Cyclophan had much bemoaned having to select the first goblin he could get through to as his champion, rather than anything more powerful.
But what does she need a champion for? What do gods do with champions? Does Guth have a dungeon?
Let me not come across as bitter and envious,** Cyclophan said bitterly and enviously, **but she does not need a champion. Not like us evil gods do. I need you to protect my shard, in order to have any ability to manifest myself. Guth doesn't need a shard, she has the moon. The champions of the major Gods are just playthings, favored souls to parade around.
What's the difference between you and her anyway? Number of worshippers?
No... I suppose I should simply tell you. There's twelve major Gods now, but there was once a thirteenth. The God of Evil, Malsidious, was shattered into countless pieces by the others. We evil gods are each one aspect of him.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
And each of you can create your own champion?
Uhm, yeah.
Sounds like they only made more trouble for themselves.
We are infinitely weakened! A god exist by and through his aspects. Even if all magic were to be destroyed, Guth could hold on to existence via the moon and her many other purviews, and simply recreate the teachings. But we evil gods must cling to a much narrower domain. Some of us are already gone.
Really? Who?
I don't know. I know there is evil that has been eradicated and forgotten. If it were reinvented then the evil god would return, but our opponents, including Guth, have made sure to wash away all knowledge of the subject. Specifically to prevent that.
At least deception can't be eradicated, huh?
You really think so?
Are you kidding? As long as there are two distantly intelligent creatures on the face of the planet, someone is going to lead someone by the nose. That's the first purpose of exchanging information, to deceive.
Thank you, that's a real comfort. Really.
Mhm.
-
It took a full day for the core to be moved, step by step, past the new industrial machines for metalworking, through the cavern and into the caves that led to the underworld.
There, on top of the old brickwork that oversaw the troll garden, it was ceremoniously displayed before the big descent.
Work was halted all over the dungeon so everybody could come and see it.
The daring plummet.
As part of a new experiment, the goblins had worked long and hard to develop metal cables.
Steel would have taken too long, so it was iron and bronze braided together.
Each individual strand was created via a 'rolling' process, in which a metal bar was heated and repeatedly squeezed through two smooth stone rollers, until it turned into a long thin strand of about thirty feet.
Then, to coil them together, Second and their brother Sota had devised another specialized tool.
The coiler was a wheel, it could be turned using its spokes and fed metal strands into the holes in its center.
It required two trolls to put in enough force to coil them together into a mighty industrial cable.
By putting the strands in one by one, they were able to stagger the 'mere' thirty feet long creations lengthwise against each other.
In this manner, no one strand spanned the length of the cable, but the creation as a whole could be forged to be much longer while still being relatively continuous.
Two cable where created this way. Two cables spanning the entire distance from the high brickwork to the sands below. At a low 45 degree angle.
The main architects of the project stood there at the beginning of the zip line to eagerly accept the railing.
There was a platform to place it on before hooking it to the cables. The chains holding the cables in place framed this platform to either side and the frayed ends from the staggered strands protruded menacingly from there, like spikes on an evil throne.
There was some ceremony hooking the shard to the cables, and various goblins involved were allowed to hold a little speech explaining their contributions.
Many goblins had hurt themselves in the process of its creation. From grabbing the the strands before they'd cooled, to standing next to the cable when it suddenly uncoiled, to even falling from great heights installing it. They wouldn't be able to try this again if the cable snapped.
"The others are waiting for us down below. Let's not make them wait any longer, shall we?"
Scratch. I changed my mind, maybe you can just lower me down the shaft.
"No getting cold feet now. I'll be damned if I take this away from them." Scratch said out loud as he broke an imported wine bottle on the casing.
-
If a dungeon core could scream, it would have, because as soon as the platform toppled over the cliff's edge the casing dropped ten feet and started its glide over the zip lines with a running start.
Sparks where flying as the rings securing it to the cables began to glow red hot, brighter than the sunstone.
"Will you look at that." Scratch patted Second's back and there was a return of some brotherly camaraderie as they looked on to the successful project.
But as soon as the core reached the middle of the lines it began to rock wildly. The rings were bumping against imperfections in the metal and the cable wasn't completely taut, allowing the weight to shift and jump around.
The brothers now held on to each other in suspense.
But the line did not snap.
Once the core had reached the lower end of the cable it had build up full momentum, and that speed diverted more and more into the horizontal dimension. As it did the path of the jumpy casing become less and less predictable.
Cyclophan's tendrils of darkness erupted out of the core. But in this open space they seemed more like flailing arms.
Daaaamn you Scraaaatch!
The core hit the end of the zip line and exploded out of the casing.
It flew past the house for the elves and skipped against the desert sand multiple times, bouncing erratically. Until it finally came to a halt some half a mile from the troll garden.
"And... he's still whole. Well done everybody," Scratch began to shake hands with his brothers and directed them to do the same with each other. "I'm sure it would have been even better if we had involved math somehow, but I'm not a scientist."
I have a question.
Yes?
Earlier, when you asked me if I was comfortable...
Mhm?
Did you know this would happen?
Well you did try to replace me a few times.
Ugh.
----------------------------------------
The new walls around the elven pagoda provided some privacy and nothing else.
They certainly weren't protected against the large projectile being catapulted over their heads. It narrowly missed them and just the resulting gust of air knocked over some of the thin wooden sheets resting against the framework.
There was a party of hobgoblins there who were supposed to safely dismount the shard once it had gently glided down. With the cargo having launched itself out of their reach, they didn't have much to do other than stare at the recently revealed women.
They had just taken advantage of the new covers by cleaning each other with wet rags.
"Beasts!" One of the elves yelled, shielding her friend with her body, "you hath come to attack us after all!"
"Liorin, tell them to leave. Now."
"I will Albwynn." The youngest elf was secretly proud of her burgeoning reputation as hobgoblin pacifier. She came out of the hut barely decent with wet hair and walked up threateningly to Will. "What's the meaning of this? Huh?"
The other brothers surrounded them, jealous of how close she got.
"Liorin... hi." He blushed.
"Were you not satisfied surrounding us with these unsightly sights against nature? Metal and plants in rows! And now you've come to bully-"
She stopped when she saw the clouds of sand the core's bouncing had kicked up.
"W-what...?"
"I... killed a goose yesterday..." Will said shyly. "Quiet said- Quiet is my uncle -he said we could roast it and we could eat it together."
"What did you do?" She gasped, "that's the devil altar!?"
"See... I thought that... you might want to eat something nice, so-"
"Did you throw that rock!?"
Will looked a bit hurt, she was ignoring his attempt at setting up a date. "N-no, we slid it off the lines. Those."
He pointed at the receptacle the core had exploded out of. It was a platform surrounded by four heavy concrete pillars to keep the cables in place.
They had been there for its construction, but only now did the ugly thing's purpose become clear to her. "That's insane. You take it apart and you rebuild it, you don't *move the whole altar*!"
"Oh... sorry?"
"Go tell your friends we have meat for them." Constantine said, "we can eat together."
"Ew, no. We would rather eat dirt than eat with you. Filthy!" She slapped his arm away, not really hurting him but significantly bruising his ego.
Ada walked around her brothers and pushed her back.
"Ah! We promised not to touch them." Constantine warned.
"I didn't promise anything," the girl hobgoblin said, "go do something else."
She continued walking forward and forcing the elf back. When she tried to shake her off, Ada took her arm and spun her around so that she held her constrained with just one arm.
"I don't know why my brothers are so nice to you, but you're gonna be nice back, alright?" She said in a tone as closely to Scratch's fatherly demands as possible. Then she patted her thorned whip with the other hand. "Go tell your sisters that."
-
It was a hike for the launch team to reach the destination team.
When Scratch met up with his children he asked whether the elves hadn't been too disturbed by the mishap.
"Ada grabbed one." Constantine tattled, and she punched his shoulder.
Scratch puffed his cigarette. "Did you do anything to her?"
"No."
"I see. Don't tell your mother."
They left the protective shade of the canopy and hiked into the harsh desert where the cargo had ended up.
On the way they passed the splintered remains of Second's casing spread out over a large area and harvested some of its rope.
When they reached the impact crater of the core, it was already righting itself.
With a slow methodical turning, it displaced the sand on one side and deposited it on the other, so that it naturally slid into position.
"Let's help him out a bit." Scratch said, and with the use of rope and muscle they managed to get its top level with the surface.
"Why are we doing all this?" Will asked eventually.
"Didn't I say so?" Scratch asked.
He shook his head.
He looked to Second, who also didn't seem to know.
"You've been helping me do this days, and you didn't know?"
"I figured it's fine if you know."
"No, that's not fine. People will walk right over you if you think that. Listen, there are two reasons." Scratch held up two fingers, "the first is that the dungeon core is what keeps all the animals in the underground obedient. Got that? People have come to destroy it before and they will again, so it's safer here. Secondly, I've had a talk with him, and the devil altar is stronger here, so we'll be able to put out some better curses before the whole thing kicks off."
"Ah, like Lacrima!" One of the goblins said.
Scratch was a bit surprised at this. "...you gonna follow that up?"
"The witch said she'd make a special weapon before the fairies get here."
"Yeah, the fairies. I was actually referring to the army, but we've got a deadline to deal with both. Anyway, the captain has recruited some special forces and is about to kick off another invasion. The weather is already getting warmer, he could've moved his troops out of the city yesterday and attacked tomorrow if it weren't for the complication."
"Complicashun?"
"Oh they just got held up a bit by bureaucracy. Some criminal trial, it's not important."
----------------------------------------
Jeez, how did I get myself into this situation?
[The defendent is... Laurus the Nightshade hero! Adventurer rank A!] The announcer guy says.
[Laurus,] the judge guy says, [you stand accused of assassinating a noble. Do you understand?]
[Yeah, I understand but-]
[Please be seated, that's enough.]
I can't even defend myself? A historical western world like this doesn't really care about justice do they?
[Laurus didn't do anything wrong! It was self defense! Self defense!] Marjorie yells.
Marjorie! Thank you!
[This is a miscarriage of justice!] Margaret pounds her fist on the bar, [the church will hear about this!]
[Yes! and so will my mother!]
[...]
Girls!
The judge bangs his hammer thing. [Order. Order! This is not a sentencing. Today we are assigning researchers to the case. Since this concerns the death of someone with noble birth, our laws dictate that it must be judicated by someone of noble birth. Fortunately, the army is in town, so we do not need to wait on a volunteer.]
What? The army is in town? Why?
[Miss Beauregarde? You wanted to take this case?]
On the podium stands a freckled beauty with tired eyes. She's going to decide whether I'm executed or not?
[Thank you your honor. Although we are all convinced of the great Laurus' innocence, we must gather evidence before we can make a judgement. It will take a few weeks for the world memories of and surrounding the event are formed. Until that time, I'm afraid we will have to hold him in house arrest.]
House arrest? What does that mean?
[This regiment would never treat a rank A hero like a common criminal. You will be housed in high quality lodging, I have made sure of that.]
The judge nods. [Well done Augusta. I have spoken with the captain, and he is very proud of the initiative you've shown in maintaining justice in Eston.]
She isn't looking at him. Is she looking at... me?
I suppose I am a little bit special.
[Laurus,] the judge says, [the Rochasts will be escorting you to your new room. Please, do not attempt to escape. Things will go much better for you if you subject yourself to justice.]
I feel much more at ease with Augusta Beauregarde on the case.
[Laurus.] Margaret comes up to me as I'm taken away.
don'tlookatherboobsdon'tlookatherboobs
[I will make sure everything is cleared up. I won't let them convict you.]
[Me neither!]
[...]
Girls!
[Hey keep it moving.] One of the knights says.
I hug my party members before leaving.
But one thing still bothers me...
Who was the guy that I killed? Had I ever met him before?
----------------------------------------
Adventuring Stay
Nobility in Blurich and Reddington and high ranking officials in Grienice have been acknowledged by the adventurers' guild as having the authority to declare stays on adventuring in a region.
Regions with adventuring stays will be clearly marked on the map and denoted by signs for travelers.
Adventurers are suspended from all normal adventuring activities here. This includes: monster suppression, dungeon crawling, whisk collection, and treasure seeking. However, adventurers may still engage in special order quests given out by officials.
Adventuring stays can be declared for a number of reasons:
When the realm is engaged in extensive bandit suppression, it can be necessary for the army to ban all armed citizens from a region in order to properly identify the enemy.
When known or unknown forces are causing adventurers to attack each other or the peasantry, a count ensure they are kept out.
And when a region is selected as a proving ground, uninvited adventurers are kept out so that they will not interfere with the competition between nobles.