Nate wanted to go through his recent quest rewards, but events just kept pushing it back. Nate, Zeff, and Ellisandra stepped outside to see what the hum was. Exhaustion was threatening to topple Nate over.
A huge airship floated above Gronwood, moving slowly downward. Its front was black, with two grappler arms extending from either side of a reinforced spiked ram shaped vaguely like a wolf. Behind the front segment, the airship was divided into 3 colors, golden yellow in the center running back to the enormous glowing engine, battered and chipped blue on the port side, and a grey splattered with red on the starboard side.
“Weird color choices,” Nate said as Zeff began excitedly making notes in his slate.
“Storm Chasers,” Ellisandra said with more awe than she intended.
“Their M.E.C.s are powered such that they don't need siphon plates! Isn't it fascinating?!”
Terry nuzzled against Nate and he patted Terry's head for a moment before he processed Zeff's words. His eyes widened. “Did you say mechs?”
“Short for Magic Enhancing Constructs.”
The airship broke apart along the lines of color separation. The sound of shifting gears and sliding metal on metal accompanied the transformation as five huge humanoid mechs landed around them.
“Robots in disguise!” Nate sang aloud.
The hatches on the mechs opened and six individuals strode toward Nate and the others. The forwardmost mech looked to be a suit of black full plate armor with red light emanating from beneath the plates. Three people exited the mech, one wearing similarly shaped full plate, red and orange feathers visible under the armor, a sharp beak protruding from the helm, the very snake-forward heavily armored gorgonian Krypdyr, who carried an large ornate lidded box by its top-centered, gold plated handle, and the elephant chimeran Rosco with a heavy bag full of supplies for Krypdyr’s stay.
To the right of the central mech stood the battered blue and golden yellow mechs, the spattered grey and a smaller white mech to its left. The battered and chipped blue mech looked like a heavily armored bipedal crab, and from it strode a Krakenkin wearing slimy looking grey leather armor, her head tentacles leaving unintentional slime across the front of her armor. The golden yellow mech slithered into place, its snake tail coiling under its folded muscular looking arms as glistening fangs shown from its statically open mouth. A beautiful Gorgonian woman with golden yellow snake hair exited the mech and straightened her flowing and elegant emerald dress before drawing up behind the plated one Nate assumed was the leader.
The grey mech that seemed constantly spattered with blood was blocky and indistinct, and an enormous Oreforged covered in bulky plate armor that blended seamlessly with his obsidian skin stomped forward. From the smallest mech that looked like an angel if it were a giant faceless robot, an Elf in white robes floated to the ground and drifted over to the others, his feet never touching the ground.
Nate’s new aura senses picked them all up as Adepts, except for the one holding the chest.
“You’re all a bit late,” Nate said with a smile, “we’ve already taken care of our Chimeran friend.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” the Phoenixfolk man in front said. His voice was crisp and professional, but had musical undertones like singing birds. “We’re here because someone in this vicinity used the SCN to search for the Lucky sigil stone. The only reason to be searching for it is if one had finally been found.”
Nate shared a glance with the others, “I’m sure we’ll be able to answer your questions. My name is Nate. My familiar here is Terry, that’s Zeffrey and Ellisandra. Fuzzball is a Sasquatch who I believe is still upstairs in the tavern.”
“I’m here,” Fuzzball stumbled out of the tavern, “how could I not with the commotion out here.”
The Phoenixfolk bowed deeply and pulled back his visor, showing his left eye glowing with magic, a scar running at a sharp angle across his face, “My apologies. I fear our business is urgent and we may have lapsed in decorum. My name is Beacon Flamel of Scuffle Alliance, Incorporated. Krypdyr holds the chest.” Krypdyr bowed.
The Krakenkin stepped forward and bowed, “I am Zorelkreth.” He sounded like he was underwater.
“Mela,” the Gorgonian nodded her head. Her voice was lower than Nate expected, and spectacularly, aggressively sultry.
“Onyx,” the Oreforged made a fist with his right hand and laid it across his chest in a salute of sorts. His voice was more surprising than the others so far in that it was neither low nor high, and it seemed to have a slight southern accent.
“Tassarion Luxalim,” the floating elf gave a nearly imperceptible nod. His voice was soft but carried to everyone as if he were standing next to them.
“Good to meet you all,” Nate said with a genuine smile. “I’m the one you’re looking for.”
“You searched the SCN?”
Nate took a deep breath, “No, that was Zeff.” Zeff waved enthusiastically at them. “The Lucky Sigil Stone is the second one I found when I got here.”
Beacon looked him over carefully before speaking, “And you used it.”
“It’s been a real lifesaver in the most literal sense, and I didn’t really understand it at the time, so of course I did. This is a dangerous world and I figured I needed all the help I could get.”
Zorelkreth pulled out her slate and approached, “What other sigil stones do you have? You have an aura, so you have at least three. And you said you have a familiar, so you have the Familiar stone as well.” She was rapidly typing with her tentacled fingers.
“I’d rather not say,” Nate said honestly. “I feel like every time someone new finds out that something bad happens or my friends get into trouble.”
“The Scuffle Alliance has no intention of bringing harm to you or yours unless you choose not to cooperaate. In fact, we’re here to offer what assistance we can. Krypdyr.” Beacon waved him forward. Krypdyr set the chest in front of Nate and popped open the chest.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Red velvet lined the inside and contained eight recesses upon which rested eight Sigil Stones. Nate whistled as he looked over the objects before closing it again.
“While I appreciate the gesture, I’m not so sure as to why you are doing this. What do you have to gain from this?”
Mela pulled two palm sized clear glass prisms from a pocket, checked each one separately, and handed one to Nate. “Damian Cashew sends his regards.”
Ellisandra’s and Zeff’s sharp breath surprised Nate, who looked confused at them.
Ellisandra whispered, “Damian is the Fist of the Scuffle Alliance, and a renowned Storm Chaser!”
“He single handedly won the Battle of the Brands ten years ago!” Zeff said excitedly.
The Dwarven figure appeared in a holographic image that rose several inches above the prism, wearing a crisp red suit with vibrant purple tie. He cleared his throat. “This is likely a bit confusing for you, as you have stumbled upon and utilized the Lucky Sigil Stone without true understanding of the consequences. As there is no way for its removal, even upon your death, it is tantamount that you survive. You will soon enough be pulled into the grand scheming of many who wish to use your power for their own gain. And as I see little point in lying to you, I will eventually be one such individual. Others will pursue your death so that you may not interfere with their plans. Thus, I have brought you two gifts that will be yours upon the signing of the contract with SAI. The first is the chest with Sigil Stones that go splendidly well with the Lucky Sigil Stone. The second is Krypdyr, who will serve as a trainer and guard for you. He is skilled in combat and physical training. I imagine you already have others around you who can help you with other parts of your training as well. I will be calling on you soon enough. Train hard. I’ll be in touch.”
Krypdyr uncoiled and slithered in front of Nate. “I’m here to serve.”
“I’d rather us be more informal, if it’s all the same to you,” Nate said.
“Certainly. I look forward to your training.”
“Same.” Nate turned his focus back onto Beacon. “Did I hear Damian right in that there’s a contract involved?”
“Yes, sir. Onyx?” Onyx retrieved a slate that showed the beginning wording of a very lengthy contract, handing it to Nate. Nate touched the top of the contract text and mentally commanded Quilly to analyze the contract for any shenanigans. He felt his own understanding of the contract grow as his interface continued its analysis.
Analysis complete. In return for these gifts and bodyguard, you are to not interfere negatively with SAI business for the next 10 years under penalty of incarceration in the Nullhold and compete in the Battle of the Brands for a minimum of 2 times as soon as you reach Adept rank.
Interfere negatively?
Defined therein as any action that would incur significant damage to personnel or property owned or hired by Scuffle Alliance, Incorporated. Significant damage is defined as anything valued over 1,000 gold pieces.
And we’re protected from them as well? Nate asked.
Yes. Any conflict perpetuated by SAI toward you or yours renders the contract null and void. They would also be responsible for any damages incurred by you in the defense of your personnel or property.
Any loopholes? Nate asked Quilly mentally.
No. Their contract writers are naturally very thorough.
“What happens if I choose not to sign?” he asked aloud.
With a matter-of-factness that put Nate on his heels, Beacon said, “We take you to our facility, where we can safely train you and ensure your safety away from outside forces.”
“That sounds like kidnapping.”
Beacon said nothing.
“I have several questions before I sign, and I’d appreciate your honesty.”
“I will answer what I can.”
Nate thought for several moments before beginning, “If I sign this, the sigil stones are mine to use as I see fit?”
“Yes. You yourself can only use one stone before you get your Correlation Stone, so the other seven can be used, traded, or sold as you see fit.”
Nate made a mental note in his journal to ask Quilly about the Correlation Stone, then continued, “What is SAI doing such that I would want to ‘negatively interfere’ with their operations? The contract implies that SAI has owned personnel.”
Zorelkreth stepped forward and answered, “Every corporation has indentured servants. People working off owed debt, mostly, though some choose to be beholden to a corp in exchange for support or safety. I am one such individual.”
“That’s good to know. But my question remains unanswered.”
Beacon took back up the conversation. “As it will remain. We are not privy to all information as to the goings-on of the various and sundry groups hired by SAI.”
Nate sighed, “That’s fair. It all looks good.” As he signed on the dotted line and handed the slate back, he felt a slight tingle as the contractual magic set in place.
Beacon gave a genuinely warm smile and extended a hand, which Nate gripped firmly, “We must go prepare for the Battle of the Brands.”
“I suppose thanks are in order, and you have given me a lot to consider.”
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Captain Raine nearly fell off her chair when Skelwulf hoisted himself upon the deck of the Aquanaut. His sodden fur left a trail of drops as he approached.
“Thank you for waiting,” Skelwulf said. “You will drop me off at Aertrock on your return to Tempeste.” Aertrock was a coastal city east of Tempeste within the high technology zone known as the Aznoble Republic.
“Did you complete the task you were here to do?”
“In more ways than I anticipated. You will be paid when you return to Tempeste, having completed your duty. He will assume I’m dead. I’d like to keep it that way.”
Captain Raine sipped her tea, “Your secret is safe with my indifference and unwillingness to be disappeared by Zolis.”
“Thank you,” Skelwulf slipped back into the shadows until they reached Aertrock several days later, upon which he thanked her again and departed, a newfound, hungry purpose in his eyes.
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Spring Jack’s vibrant blue, long rabbit ears bobbed from the holes cut into his black top hat as he ran across the rooftops of Tempeste, hopping over gaps between them with practiced ease. Town guards pursued him from many directions, but he wasn’t worried. He laughed as he rolled to his feet after a particularly long jump to a lower rooftop. Then his jovial red eyes locked onto the fluttering papers.
Drifting to the ground between the buildings was the handful of bounty posters he’d torn down on his morning stroll through the city. His hesitation cost him as he was tackled to the ground. He just smiled as the cuffs were placed on his wrists and he was hoisted to his feet. His brass goggles tumbled off his hat onto the flat roof. His black shirt, vest, gentleman’s coat, cloak, and poofy pirate pants were soiled from the run. The gold tassels on his shoulders, with which he feigned admiralty, matched the gold pocket watch dangling precariously out of his right pants pocket. A red sash around his waist, with a scabbard for his scimitar and hook for his whip, matched his hatband and his eyes. His shiny black leather boots with pronounced silver heels clicked as he tapped his feet.
“I should have known the missing bounty posters were your doing, Spring Jack,” the human guard puffed.
“Thanks, doc,” Spring Jack said, twitching his cute black nose as he turned. “Is my room ready?”
“You aren’t going to jail today,” the guard sneered as a well dressed kappan landed softly on the roof. Spring Jack stood a bit stiffer.
“Indeed not,” Grack dusted off his coat. “Zolis has a task for the Carrot Crew.”
“And you think I’m a member?”
“You have their symbol on your hat.”
Indeed, the crest strapped to the front of his hat with a red bandana showed a rabbit skull under which were two crossed carrots. “You make a fair point.”
Grack withdrew a folded piece of paper and tucked it into Spring Jack’s frayed red coat. “The job is on this. Triple standard payment.”