The Alraune had magnificent plant growth abilities, likely a lesser variant of the wisp’s Grow, making them an excellent addition to the farms. The one he had was currently in the field of FireAgave and her job here was finished. The field was full of agave leaves, they were giant, almost as tall as him. Each leaf was red in colour and had small spikes on the sides.
It was high time to harvest it. “Harvest Material.” The FireAgave exploded into purple motes of light.
[FireAgave Strand] x25. He received a bundle of thin red strings right inside his inventory.
“Not bad.” But also not good, the perk wasted a lot of the plant. Luckily harvesting it the old-fashioned way was always an option.
“Come one come all, it’s harvest time!” He shouted for the spiders.
The spider farmers rushed from all sides and began cutting the FireAgave, they worked in unison like a well-calibrated machine and systematically were going through each plant. Cutting at the base, separating the leaves, halving them and stuffing them in the bags, and so on. It was almost scary but in a matter of minutes, the field was harvested. The lone Alraune stood in the middle of it, the look on her face furious, a spider minder bonked her on the head with a stick correcting the foul attitude.
That’s right! Serves her right. To begin with, the plants didn’t belong to the Alraune, and the plant-woman actually had a mean attitude to everything. He had to have a spider minder near the creature at all times because it was well-established that she will attempt to eat the little spiders if they got too close. And that’s right, due to her bad attitude Alraune had no friends here, well except for the Dryads. Dryads and Alraune were tight friends for some reason.
Speaking about Dryads, they were interesting creatures needing neither water nor food to survive. Having them around proved to be useful, they had found a way to make IronOak seedlings. The tree in question had no fruits, hence no seeds, but Dryads used their innate magic on small cuttings of the tree to turn them into saplings. Currently, they were planting a small grove of only IronOaks, In a clearing slightly away from the farms.
He waved the rude Alraune goodbye.
“Alraune!” She pointed a finger accusingly at him only to be bonked by a stick again.
Whatever, the job was done. He was curious about what he can make out of FireAgave.
In a workshop, a group of spiders were munching on thick leaves of agave to extract the fibre strands. It turned out to be quite juicy, thick oily substance leaked down their mandibles. It looked like syrup so he dipped his finger and tasted it.
“Bleh!” He spat it out. “Tastes like lighter fluid.” And then he had an idea.
He gathered the juice into a small container and ran towards where the Lamia had their cooking fire. The meal was over and there were only hot embers in the fireplace. He poured the thick juice on the embers and it burst into fire.
“As predicted. But what if the plant caught fire?” The idea was scary.
Next, he dropped a whole Fire Agave leaf into the fire. Surprisingly, it didn’t burn, not at all.
“How strange. So while the juice is flammable, the plant itself has fire-resistant properties. Amazing!”
By the time he was back, the spiders were already weaving [FireAgave Strand] into rolls of [Red Cloth]. With that cloth, he was positive in being able to make fire-resistant clothing. Hopefully, this will make the scary fireballs less effective; those had wrecked the spiders quite a bit.
To make more cloth he will need bigger fields, and to grow it quickly he will need more Alraune. Well, the fields were easy, but he felt anxious about using the Evolve perk, that one had a tendency to knock him out.
…
Much later, the small group of spiders had returned with two humans. The men looked gaunt and exhausted from the long travel.
“Welcome to my kingdom.” He greeted the two.
The humans looked with empty fish-like eyes; dead inside from all the terror they had witnessed on the way here.
“And thanks again for volunteering to do the reading and writing for me. No, consider yourselves employed from now on. I will even pay you wages… in the form of food and free accommodation, yes, isn’t it wonderful.”
A spider nudged a still-bound man.
“Yes, it’s my pleasure.” A middle-aged human grumbled.
The younger man followed a good example. “Yes, Yes!”
“Now then, the spiders will show your accommodation. I’m quite busy at the moment so you are free to do as you please until I need you. Just don’t go into the jungle, or near Alraune. Oh, and I already asked the Lamia not to eat you.”
The two just blinked already resigned to their fate of forever captivity and then the spiders dragged them by their feet to their ‘houses’.
“That reminds me, I need to make some paper and ink…” The paper was easy but good ink was more complicated. “I should have asked the humans for some.” That or he could use what he has here.
Actually, it was not that complicated the dust from the flowers he grew was a perfect dye once mixed with water. And he had plenty of time on his hands to practise making both.
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The paper didn’t turn out as well as he imagined, it was off-white, rough and grainy. The ink however turned out to be alright. Having what he needed he decided to get some practice. It had been forever since he had to write by hand. And in reality, he had forgotten how useful writing can be. Well, on a small farm he never really needed it but now it wasn’t just a farm, it was a small kingdom and written messages, decrees, edicts and orders had significance. That is if people were literate.
He scribbled something on the paper. “I wonder if Lamia can read or write.” He wasn’t sure of that. “Maybe the Ancestral Tree knows how to, but I bet his language is ancient and unnecessarily difficult. Kobolds?” He just smiled dismissing the idea instantly. “That leaves only humans and the elves.”
The reason he was thinking about it was that he needed an official language for his kingdom. He was going to end up with either local human or elven written languages.
“Ahh, I would use English but.” As far as he knew Language Comprehension did its thing and no one spoke or wrote actual English.
He looked at the paper he was scribbling on, his eyebrows furrowed. “What is this?” He began angling the paper to the right and to the left, and even upside down. “How did I write it?”
Whatever he absentmindedly wrote it wasn’t English. Various glyphs and shapes filled the paper. “I don’t get it.”
He tried to write this time paying attention but even then more strange hieroglyphs came out. “I forgot how to write English, but…”
He positioned the paper the right way and tried to read.
“Look at my horse, my horse is amazing. Give it a lick! Mmm! It tastes just like raisins. With a stroke of its mane, it turns into a plane. And then he turns back again when you tug on his…” Obviously, he wrote some nonsense but… “Yeah, I can read it no problem.”
Then for some reason the fingers resting on the paper felt hot, the ink glowed and the paper burst into flames. The flames devoured it so quickly he was left standing grasping nothing but air, strangely the flame didn’t burn him.
“What just happened.” He was lost for words.
He wrote something again, and once he read it out loud it burst into flames. He scratched his head, there was just no logical explanation.
“This world works in mysterious ways. I wonder, if not English then what language is this?”
He produced another piece of paper and on it, he wrote: “I’m the King of Spiders.” But this time he didn’t read it.
He went to show it to a friendly Lamia. Currently, she was eating her boar and mushroom dinner with her friends.
“Here, try it.” He offered the paper.
“Oh, a napkin thanks-sss.” She dabbed her oily lips with the paper.
“No, I wanted you to try reading it.”
She gave him a funny look. “Why would you think I know how to do that? SSS! Ask the Queen!” She hissed and pushed the stained paper towards his hands.
He apologised and went to see the Queen. He couldn't find her in her room. Naturally, he asked her servants first but they just shrugged.
“Odd, aren't the servants supposed to know where their Queen is.” He mumbled to himself and kept looking.
Neither lamias nor spiders knew where the Lamia Queen was, he even began to worry. That was until a baby spider, a recently hatched one, tugged on the hem of his trousers. He didn’t even see the little guy at the beginning.
“King?” It chirped politely.
“Oh, you can talk already!” He was genuinely impressed.
“White Lamia.” It pointed with its small hand towards the direction of the throne room.
“She’s there?”
The spider nodded vigorously.
“Good lad.” He patted the little fellow and it chirped happily. “Why would she be there in all of the places.”
Of course, she was in the throne room. She was there to sit on his Divine Pillow, an item of legendary quality. She had made herself comfortable on the throne and was eating TomGrape fruit without a single care in the world. The juices leaked down her arm and then everywhere on the throne making it sticky.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” He roared failing to hide the irritation.
“SSS? Why are you here?” She jumped and out of surprise dropped the fruit she was nibbling on right on the floor. It plopped out the ground splattering the juices.
Her facial expression was indignant and the way she slouched on the throne was no better, but for some reason, she asked that stupid question with increased authority, and her voice reverberated through the entire throne room.
“SSS… I am sss-sorry.” She slithered off the throne with her shoulders hunched and her head down. At least her apology sounded normal.
He had things to say to the troublemaker, a lot of things, but since she already knew she was up to no good he chose to ignore it for the sake of more important matters. He showed her the oily paper.
“Did you draw this, sss, very nice picture!”
“It’s not a picture. Can you read this?” He offered her the paper.
The Lamia Queen grabbed it and currently was holding the paper upside down. “Oh, yes I can read it, sss. Very interesting, sss, but what do you think about it?”
“You can't read it, can’t you.”
“No, no I can-sss.” She began turning it around. “Here, are the mountains-sss I know of.”
“This isn’t a map, you know, it’s a text… Never mind.”
He tried to take the paper away.
“No! SSS. I can do it!”
He took it away. Not only it was oily now, it was all crumpled up.
“Just that I know. What does it sss-say? SSS?”
“It’s nothing important.”
“Please, tell me. I am curoious-sss now.”
“If I tell you, I’m afraid the paper might catch fire.”
She gave him a curious look. “You’re mes-sss-sing with me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Just that you know, sss, my mother, the Late Queen, could read. It’s just that I was-sss too young to learn.”
“Too young, or too stubborn?” She definitely wasn’t too young.
There was no reply.
“I am going to see if humans can recognise the writing. I am curious what language is this.”
He went to find the two men and lamia tagged along still pestering him to tell her what the text said. They approached a small dome-like structure. There was no door only a blue curtain blocking the entrance, so he knocked on the wall. He knocked once, nothing, twice, nothing.
“Maybe they're out?” He wondered if spiders were giving the two a farm tour.
“Come in.” Someone said groggily.
He went inside, the two men had settled well. The spiders had made them a bed, a table and other necessary furniture. The table was loaded with food, fruits and even boar meat. Half-eaten pieces of food littered the floor and even the two beds the men were sleeping on. The middle-aged man rubbed his eyes looking at him, and then he shot up straight and stiff as a log.
“Sorcerer!” He kicked his buddy to wake him up. “We didn’t expect you so soon.”
“Not just sss-sorcerer, King of Lamia to you.” Lamia Queen corrected. “And I am the Queen.”
Both men gave a good looking down to the King their gazes slightly confused.
“King and Queen of Lamia.” The two bowed the best they could. “How can we help you.”
If anything, he was the King of spiders; obviously. Regardless, he ignored the trouble-loving lamia and showed the paper to the two commoners, without expecting much of them.
“Do you recognise the writing?”
“No.” The middle-aged man spoke first.
“Looks like magical writing?” A younger spoke. “But I am only guessing. You need a mage for that.”
“So, it’s the elves I need to speak with.”
Queen Lamia crossed her arms. “They're not elves now, sss, they are Drow!” she corrected in a mock stern tone.
“I wonder who is responsible for that?” He gave her the look.
Her reply was an innocent smile.
“Then I’m off to see the Drow and uncover the secrets of this paper.” He looked at even more curious lamia. “And you’re not coming. Shadow Walk.” He disappeared leaving only threads of darkness floating in the air like feathers.
“No! SSS!”
“Sorcery!” The middle-aged man fell back to his bed.