Chapter 114

Base Building

Brewer’s Reputation: 410

We returned through the mist. Fireflies the size of apples swirled through the forest. One firefly, the size of Thrush, beat a deep drone with its wings as it ambled north over the wall. At the foot of the woods, fireflies gushed out of the crack of a silver cocoon. In a line of blinking lights they formed a moving wavelength down our path.

Abigail and I looked at each other for a beat.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Me too.”

“This is the last thing you want.”

“Hiccup did warn us.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Let’s turn them away.”

With that I made to cross through the mist wall until I felt Abigail’s fingers on my arm. Her grip pulled me to a stop.

“Hold on,” she said. “Will you do that the next time? And the next time? This probably won't be the last time people seek you out.”

We searched each other’s eyes. I couldn’t communicate my hopeless frustration with words, nor with a shrug and shake of my head.

“It’s unreasonable,” she said. “How will you monitor this area?”

“...And they're building like they're settling.”

“We can't ignore them. The Mist Hidden wall is good, but it can only do so much.”

“Right now it feels like it’s not doing much of anything.”

“They’re having a lot of trouble crossing it,” she said. “It looks like it’s bought us some time. Considering the sheer number of people, I’d say it’s a damn good wall.”

Perhaps there was something in the Brewer’s Guide to Magic Ingredients.

The pages were crisp and they sounded like cracking dried leaves as I thumbed through the book. When I licked my thumb, I felt the coolness of the spring breeze. The pages reflected silver from the cocoon strewn forest and gleamed blue-purple from the Mist Hidden wall.

“There has to be other base building attributes that can help,” I said. “Something.”

Abigail’s guide book was thicker. The spine creaked when she opened it. Her finger grazed down the pages in soft hushes.

I cleared my throat. “Clammy Locust Flower. When open fully, these flowers always appear pink. The trees on which they bloom grow in thick clusters and quickly overtake open areas. Midday, the flowers release enough moisture to produce a humid haze. Their aroma is sulfuric, similar to rotten eggs. Primarily used in the defensive base building attribute: Fermented Fumes.”

Abigail flipped through a dozen pages in her book. “I’m already in the glossary. F…f…f…Here we are, Fermented Fumes. When imbued with Clammy Locust Flowers, beer foam becomes noxious. Requires 1 week for attribute to settle. Beer must be contained. When opened, noxious gas is dispensed to cover 1 acre per gallon. Inhaling the noxious gas of Fermented Fumes results in permanent paralysis and eventual death.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“It’s good to know there’s some base building stuff in here, but there’s gotta be something that won’t kill people.”

Abigail chewed her lip, and she frowned. “I ran into another one a few months ago.” She thumbed pages to one side. Aspen…Azalweed…Cawwo…Here it is, Downy Arrowwort. Found in the iron swamps of Ilhusta in Cape Sodwod, Downy Arrowwort is a parasitic plant with a fuzzy stem and leaf. It can be found feasting on the roots of decaying trees. When young, this plant shouts a bright, orange-crimson color. Once wilted, the stem and leaves become a dull shade of brown. For full effect, harvest young just after plants display their first set of arrow-shaped leaves.Used predominantly for the Spent Moat attribute. Base Building. Used seldom in conjunction with blue cheese for the Bubbling Tar Pit attribute. Base Building.” She flipped to the glossary at the end of the book while keeping her thumb as a bookmark. “Spent Moat: Unfiltered beer brewed with Downy Arrowort will imbue the moat with flesh peeling acidity. Beer must be brewed in place using stone vats made from the Cliffs of Fearstone. Base Building. Location permanence.” After perusing back through the glossary, she paused, read silently to herself, and said, “…Bubbling Tar Pit isn’t any better…”

“Well that’s not happening,” I said. “What about this one from the Is. It’s called Imp’s Wrinkle pepper. A rare pepper, solely cultivated by diamond ranked botanists in humid, tropical areas, and sold by the seed at specialty garden markets. This pepper is used to imbue beer with the Birdie’s Beer Bomb attribute. The pepper is likened to the manic figure, Yuk Blaggerbolt, a 300 year old imp that wore a wrinkled smile while head bashing his enemies to death. Choice pepper for excellent flavor. Sweet, with a hint of spice and ripe orange fruit. Slight metallic aftertaste. Pepper efficacy varies by crop and season.”

Abigail put herself so deep in the glossary, her bookmark thumb slipped from its split. “Birdie’s Beer Bomb…I know this one, but let me double check just to make sure. Beer Bomb attribute. Gold Rank attribute. When imbued with Imp’s Wrinkle pepper, containers of beer must be broken or pierced to cause explosions. Explosion size and heat depend on the quantity of peppers used in the beer. Weapon. When combined with shavings of iron, Beer Bomb takes on a base building effect. These barrels can be placed around a base and set to explode when marked enemies venture within 1 dozen feet. Marked: See Scoping Eye Attribute.”

The sigh that left my lungs was heavy enough to touch fallen leaves. I ran a hand through my growing beard, and then I ran my fingers through my hair. I felt dappled sunlight dance across my eyelids. “There’s gotta be nonviolent base building beers.”

A rope, looped at the end, flew over the Mist Hidden wall. The lasso soared short and fell into the mist. It rustled forest floor debris as it was pulled back through the mist.

We promptly returned to scouring our books with haste.

“No…” said Abigail as her eyes scanned down a page.. “No…No…No…”

“No,” I muttered as I turned page after page. “No…No…”

“Ooh! How about…Oh no, that’s no good. …Oh, that’s gruesome!”

I flicked a glance up at her from my book. “Skeleton, Bull. Used with Wortzbite crocodile skin for the Summon Spear Bull attribute. Can you tell me-”

Abigail was already there, wrestling a chunk of pages to one side. “--Summon Spear Bull attribute. Diamond rank attribute. Brewed using the entire skeleton of a bull, and the skin of a Wortzbite crocodile, this beer summons a Hosta Spear Bull from the ancient Aggra-hosta order of Turshnecks (ancient priests of agriculture from the lost city of Hosta). Up to 30 Hosta Spear Bulls may be summoned within 10 hectares. Hosta Spear Bulls are generally used to patrol and defend base walls. Unrivaled sensory ability among summoned beasts. Combative with exceptionally high pain tolerance. These bulls trample any moving creature within their defined territory. Summons last 2 days. Bulls may leave necrotic hide in their wake.”

A straight black line zipped over the mist. It was an arrow that thunked into a tree trunk. Rope was tied through the loop behind the feathers. The rope twanged as it was pulled taught. The rope began to tremble. It shook with fury.

Ah, there was nothing useful in the book! “I’ve heard enough. Can’t we make our own?”

“Our own attribute? The best we could do is commission Alchemists to design one. For something of this caliber, it may take several years. Not even mentioning the cost.”

The arrowhead was easy to pry from the tree with the bit of my axe. Both arrow and rope speedily slithered back through the mist.

“What else can we do?” I said.

In our time thinking and thinking and chewing our cheeks, another arrow whizzed over the mist. It hit the dirt and was promptly pulled free. It too was reeled back through the mist.

Abigail and I paced, and kept an eye to the sky. An arrow whooshed over the mist and slammed into a nearby tree.

“That would’ve left a mark,” I said and wedged the arrowhead out. “So our options are to either kill people…”

A flailing figure soared over the mist, silhouetted against the bright sky. It came down with its limbs bent at odd angles before slamming into the ground and bouncing once. Abigail covered her mouth with both hands, over which her eyes were huge. We rushed to the figure.

With my foot, I nudged the dummy of grass stuffed clothes. I flipped it over and it rolled onto its back. The dummy wore a smile and it seemed to be aimed directly at me.

“…or wait around until they find a way through.”