Eddling, Eanif Imperium

July 28, 2019

“Hey Kel, do you know if they have showers in the Imperium?” Dr. Jones looked back from the driver’s seat.

“As of several years ago, only the nobles had access to such luxuries. The plumbing in the Imperium is not as advanced or widespread as the plumbing in your base. I myself have experienced showers, courtesy of the Mekkanese, but as far as I know, showers are only widespread in Mekkan and the Divinian Empire.”

“Huh… damn.”

“If you want, I can teach you a cleansing spell. We just need access to some water,” Kelmithus offered.

Before Jones could respond, the rest of Alpha Team looked to Kelmithus. “Can you cast it on us?” They asked simultaneously, much to Ambassador Perry’s amusement.

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Perry chimed in.

“Very well,” sighed Kelmithus. “Let us stop by this river, shall we?”

“Let’s get a little bit further. We can do our thing once we reach the CIA rendezvous point,” Henry said.

When they reached the rendezvous point, they were greeted by an agent wearing a funny-looking noble outfit.

“Major Donnager?” he asked.

“Yes, that would be me,” Henry replied, stepping out of the vehicle. He eyed the agent and tried to maintain a poker face, holding in an amused smirk.

The agent sighed. “I’m Agent Valjean. You must be quite jealous of my absolutely fashionable outfit, I take it?” Valjean said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Oh, very much so,” Henry reciprocated. “Honestly, I can’t wait to get an outfit like that myself, with all the fluffy neck things and the… chest high pants.” Alpha Team shared a few giggles behind him.

“Man, I wish I could’ve been posted to Mekkan. At least they’ve got drip. Anyway, you got the goods?”

“Yeah, convoy’s right behind the bend here.” They walked toward the convoy. “Gee, Agent Valjean, what do you guys even need all this equipment for?”

“Contingency plan, in case the Eanish try something funny on the good ambassador. You’re going to need to stay in town for a day while we set up over in Eana,” Valjean said as he perused the convoy’s inventory, nodding as he checked off items on his list.

“Alright. Geez, man. Isn’t this overkill?” Henry looked at the stash of radio-operated combat drones and the stacks of C-4.

Valjean shrugged. “I dunno, Major. Director Gray said we needed this stuff, so we’re gonna be using it. Hopefully,” he said, a glimmer in his eyes.

Henry shook his head. “I thought blowing shit up was our forte…”

“Oh, yeah I bet. But to answer your question, this might be overkill against some of their musketmen, but not against some of their larger units. You’ve read the dossier on Imperial war beasts, yes?” He said as he grabbed a box of communications equipment.

Henry grabbed another box, helping out as they conversed. “Oh, yeah, but it’s been a while. I heard they’ve got land dragons, dragons like the one we fought off during the Mekkanese diplomat rescue, torrasques, basilisks, and some other mythical creatures.”

“Yeah, many more of these other mythical creatures. The dragons and torrasques are just their most common units. They’ve got stronger ones; nasty motherfuckers worse than that Hydra you fought.” He set the box down, scratching his arm as he thought. “Hmm, if you want a good comparison, I’d probably say that their elite monsters are on par with that thing in the research facility, Mount Alone or something?”

“Yeah, Mount Loe. Do I even want to ask why the CIA knows about that?”

“There’s some valuable stuff in there. Probably more suited for some army demolitionists, but you know the deal. We usually get all the juicy info first. Perks of CIA y’know?”

Henry crossed his arms. “Yeah, guess so. But still, it’s not like they’re gonna send one of those things after us, while we’re having diplomatic talks in the middle of the city, right?”

“Oh, definitely not. But they do have minotaurs and shit that can rough up infantry. Shrug off bullets like Nerf darts, man. And if we ever need a distraction, we just blow a bunch of their shit sky-high.”

Henry nodded, finding reason in the explanation. “Well, alright then. I’m gonna go check on my team. Was nice meeting you, Agent Valjean.”

“Likewise, Major Donnager,” he replied, giving him a firm handshake.

Henry jogged back to the JLTV. “The CIA guy, Agent Valjean, said we’ve got to stay in town for a day. They need to move their gear into the capital and set up for the talks.”

Ambassador Perry nodded. “Alright then. I’ve brought some of the local currency with me, so we should be able to find a nice, cozy inn for the night.”

“But first,” Jones interjected, “let’s take a short visit to the river.”

As they made their way to the river, Kelmithus channeled magical energy into his staff. When they arrived at the riverbed, he lifted his staff in the air, causing several pockets of water to float up. Then, redirecting the bubbles toward Alpha Team and Ambassador Perry, he swirled the water around their bodies. Like a vortex, the water encompassed their bodies, revolving at incredible speeds as the spell’s targets were cleaned. Within a few seconds, the spell dissipated, leaving a shimmering blue glow as the water seemingly vanished.

“Oh, wow. That felt refreshing,” Henry said.

“We’re… dry?” Emma noticed.

Kelmithus cast the same spell on himself as he explained. “Think of it like a cleansing mist. The swirling water scrubs dirt off, enhanced by magic to provide a similar experience to bathing, while the dispellment of the vortex dries you up. Using shampoo or soap might be interesting, and I’ll actually need to test the utility of your technological cleaning materials for this spell.”

“Fascinating… So, something like this?” Jones imitated Kelmithus’ process, forming a few levitating bubbles of water and then swirling them.

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Kelmithus nodded. “Quick learner.” The cleansing spell he casted into himself wore off. “Now, I haven’t been to the Imperium many times in the past, due to my duties in the academy, but I do know one thing for certain: the people here are quite arrogant. Let us try to find an inn, shall we?”

——

Alpha Team made their way into the town, escorted by Agent Valjean, who helped familiarize them with the various landmarks and places to avoid. They easily made their way past the front gate, on account of Agent Valjean having acquainted himself with many of the towns residents already. Aside from seeing several Eanish nobles punishing some disobedient slaves, the town seemed like a quaint fantasy town — one that tourists from Earth would likely love to visit. After touring the town for a couple hours, Agent Valjean directed Alpha Team and Ambassador Perry to an affordable inn, operated by an Abolitionist merchant.

“The Wyvern’s Nest,” Henry said to himself, looking up at the inn’s wooden sign. The inn sat between several taverns in Eddling’s commercial and leisure districts.

Emma frowned as she stared at the brothel across the street, which exclusively offered enslaved beastpeople, according to one of the signs. “Stuff like that really reminds you that we’re on an alien world…”

Kelmithus nodded. “Indeed. Let us not dwell on this for too long, however. Maybe the merchant can answer some of our questions?”

“Yeah,” Ron said distastefully, reminded of the sins of the early Americas. He opened the door and walked inside, causing a bell above to chime.

A beastwoman receptionist on the desk looked up and greeted them in a joyful tone, baring her fangs as she grinned at the newcomers. “Greetings, travelers! Are you all looking for a place to stay?”

Ambassador Perry looked back at Alpha Team; they were in shock because they had yet to see a beast person up close. The receptionist lady seemed to resemble a cat girl, with anthropomorphic features such as ears. In fact, what surprised the Terrans was the receptionist’s astonishing similarity to humans, all except for the fur covering her body and her ears. Kelmithus on the other hand was not so shocked. No surprise there, Perry thought to himself.

Kelmithus walked up to the receptionist and analyzed the signs above. “Hmm, we’re looking for the owner of this place, Sir Binklehan?”

The receptionist nodded as she studied the newcomers. “And what might be the reason for this visit?”

Henry answered, “We were referred by Pierre.”

Seemingly satisfied with their answer, she stood up from her desk. “Oh, very well then. I shall send for Sir Binklehan. Please wait a moment.” She exited the room, moving upstairs.

As she did so, everyone was able to catch a glimpse of her tail swinging from her dress. Dr. Jones gave a slight wolf whistle, prompting Emma to slap him on the arm. “Perv,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, c’mon now. This is like a fantasy dream for a lot of people back home. And it sure is fascinating, isn’t it?” Jones smiled, appealing to Emma’s inquisitive nature.

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

They lounged about, walking around the room and studying the various illustrations and paintings hung on the walls. A few minutes later, the receptionist returned with a clean-shaven man wearing a top hat and a similar outfit to Agent Valjean.

“Hmm…” The members of Alpha Team suppressed their smirks.

Ambassador Perry saw this and decided to take the initiative. “Sir Binklehan?”

“Ah, you all must be the friends of Pierre. I’m glad to see more supporters of our cause!” He said in a jolly voice.

“Are you referring to the abolitionist movement?”

“Yes. And who might you all be?”

Ambassador Perry introduced himself, followed by the members of Alpha Team.

“Pleasure to meet you fine folks. Say, you folks sure do have some strange apparel,” he said, leaning forward to inspect their clothes.

“We’re on a diplomatic mission from the United States. We’re headed for Eana and we are looking for a place to stay for tonight,” Perry said smartly.

“Oh, ho! Okay, since you are friends of Pierre, I can provide a discount. 5 bronze per person?”

“Sounds good,” Perry said, handing over a bag of coins.

Sir Binklehan handed the bag to the receptionist, who began counting the coins. “Let me know if you need anything. Oh, and do be careful with discussing the abolitionist movement. You may find yourselves in quite the predicament if you do so…” His face darkened. “It’s quite unfortunate that we as a civilized nation have not yet improved our society by ridding ourselves of such disgracefulness, as the Mekkanese and Divinians have. The people here will not take kindly, and might even have you arrested if they find out about your support for the abolitionists.” He turned and began walking back up the stairs. “I have several meetings in a few moments. Remember, if you need anything just talk to Miss Quicktail downstairs and have her ask for me.”

Ron looked to Henry. “What do we do now, sir?”

Henry shrugged. “Explore the town? I’m starving.”

Everyone nodded in agreement and they ventured out onto the streets in search of Eanish food.

——

“Roasted cav with Pellurian sauce and a side of potato,” Henry muttered. “Hmm, that doesn’t sound too bad.”

“What about this restaurant,” Emma said, pointing to the fancy-looking establishment next door. “Tabal’s Delicacies. They even have illustrations of their food!”

Posted on a sign outside the restaurant was a menu, displaying a couple dozen food items, each with their own painted illustration. Ron pointed to the third item on the list, some sort of broth with an exotic meat from the Wastelands. “This looks promising,” he said, his mouth watering as he eyed the cooked meat and vegetables.

Henry moved Ron’s finger away and pointed to the number next to it. “This costs 4 silvers! Our rent for the day, for all of us, doesn’t even cost that much.”

Ambassador Perry tilted his head. “Well, didn’t Agent Valjean give us a bag of like, 50 golds?”

“We’re supposed to save it in case we need to bribe someone around here,” Henry replied in a low voice.

“Oh come on now, I’m sure we can do away with a few silvers. I mean, just look at that, it just oozes Parisian excellence!” Perry said, gesturing toward the illustrations.

Henry sighed. “Very well… just try not to spend too much.”

Emma smiled. “Thanks, sir!”

Henry smiled back. “Yeah. I guess we might as well enjoy the alien stuff while we’re here.”

They entered the restaurant and emerged into a brightly lit interior, reminiscent of luxurious dining halls of the past. A waiter with an exquisite French-looking mustache greeted them. “Good day, sirs and madam. How many shall we be serving today?”

“Six people,” Henry answered.

“Okay. Please follow me,” the waiter said, leading them to their seats. He brought the party of six to a comfortable booth with an intricately crafted glass table. “Here you are,” he handed them menus. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Hmm,” they said, staring at the menus.

“What do you have to offer?” Kelmithus asked.

The waiter eyed Kelmithus’ and Jones’ staffs. “We have red wine, blue wine, Imperial gin, pinkberry juice, and for you, my good Sonaran sir, we do have some fine Sonaran ale available,” he said to Kelmithus.

The waiter waited as the party conversed amongst themselves, seemingly divided between blue wine, imperial gin, and pinkberry juice. After a minute of bickering, they eventually settled on their order. The Sonaran wizard ordered ale; the blonde, the other wizard, and the smartly dressed man ordered pinkberry juice; the other two warrior-looking types ordered blue wine. “Okay,” he said, writing down their orders. “We shall have your drinks ready in a few minutes.”

“Alright,” Henry said, reverting his gaze back to the menu. “Their steak looks pretty good, what do y’all think?”

“Sir, you always get steak,” Ron said.

“Of course I do. How else could I maintain these guns?” He said, flexing his arms. “Gotta get that protein in. And Owens, you always get steak too!”

“True,” he said.

“Oh, come on. Why don’t you guys try some of that wasteland meat?” Jones asked.

“Hah, no thanks. Not trying to get radiation poisoning,” Henry said.

Emma chimed in, “Not that type of wasteland, sir. It’s probably just a desert or something.”

“Ehh… maybe.”

“Okay, I’ll get the wasteland broth and then we can share the steak?” Emma proposed.

“Yeah, alright then.”

The waiter returned with a cart full of drinks and placed the glasses on the table. “Are you fine travelers ready to order?”

The travelers nodded. The two warriors ordered cav steak with parsive seasoning and Wend sauce. “How would you like your steaks done? We have reddened, medium reddened, and no reddened.”

“We’ll go with medium,” Henry answered cautiously, unsure what the cooking styles for this alien world were.

The blonde ordered a wasteland hound broth; the stylish man ordered a cav stew; the Sonaran wizard ordered a meat platter; and the other wizard ordered a rice dish with wyvern meat.

“Excellent choices, fine travelers! I will return in 20 minutes with your dishes.”

“So, Kelmithus, do you know anything about this wasteland?” Henry asked.

“I have not heard much of it; from the stories I’ve read, the wasteland is a desert somewhere to our north and the Imperium’s east. They say it was once fertile land, and if you look at it from a map, the desert itself looks unnatural. It stretches all the way to the coast, and is spread out in an equidistant circle, all originating from some sort of mountain or stone spire in the center. The wasteland hound is a type of monster that is said to inhabit this desert. A perfect killing machine, and it is also said to have perfect meat, to the point where the meat even provides beneficial qualities to the consumer, such as enhanced strength, faster healing, and greater intelligence, for a time. But because the meat is so hard to source, it is very expensive. 10 silvers for a single broth!”

Everyone listened intently, curious about this seemingly perfect biological specimen. Ambassador Perry posed a new question. “So, if this monster is a perfect killing machine, how does the Eanif Imperium hold it back?”

“I… I am not sure,” Kelmithus said, stroking his beard. “I don’t think they hold it back; rather, they have been lucky enough that the monsters tend to stay in the desert rather than venture out and attack Eanish cities.”

“Huh. Makes me wonder if the Imperium has ever tried taming them,” Henry said.

Kelmithus shook his head. “They most certainly have, but I doubt any of them have ever succeeded. These wasteland hounds bow to no master except that twisted spire; I’m not even sure if they can feel hunger. To me, it seems like the only motivation these fiends have is to spread death.”

Henry nodded. “I see.” Then, spotting the waiter to his left, he announced to his group, “Oh, looks like the food’s here.”

“Fine sirs and madam, I present to you: the culinary excellence of Lord Tabal!” The waiter approached them with a cart and lifted the silver covers off the dishes, releasing the succulent aromas contained within the delicious cooking.

“Alright folks, let’s dig in!” Henry declared.