Arch-mage Jennings was bored. The petty arguments he was hearing were nothing new to him. Over his nearly 1000 years of life, he had heard all of this before. Looking around the room, he saw the same archetypes wearing different faces.
The large Hall of Leadership was familiar in its own way. No matter how different, and seemingly ‘original’, someone designed a conference room, they always looked the same. A bunch of people with a great deal of power sitting around in a circle… arguing.
The upper ring was filled with citizens of importance, hoping to join those currently in the center ring. Everyone always wanted to be a noble, until they were put in charge of something. Then they would start complaining and pointing fingers. It was never THEIR fault, it was their political enemies. THEY were the ones who were responsible.
Snorting at his inner thoughts, he glanced at the current city-lord, Lord Cosgrave. She was the typical political powerhouse, spending all her time putting out fires and managing perceptions. He knew that she was effective, disturbingly so, but he couldn’t help but find her political maneuvers annoying.
Yet, he knew that he only felt that way because he could never do what she did. Her machinations held her city together, and corralled the nobles into doing what was needed. He both admired her and didn’t want to be around her. It was a familiar feeling that he always felt around people particularly skilled in politics.
He turned his attention to her current political opponent, the one who had demanded this full meeting of the council. The idiot was still shouting about Dorchester’s eminent destruction, citing those fate weaving morons as his source of prophecy. Jennings wasn’t surprised by the support the man had received by making that declaration. He, and his supporters, were all the same type of coward that Jennings had seen a thousand times before.
Lord Bevin stood tall, pounding his fist as he shouted, “The signs are all around us. It’s obvious to everyone with a mind stat over 20 that the fate-weavers are right. Dorchester will fall, and we have to prepare for that eventuality. Wasting resources on a doomed city is just hubris. You must declare an evacuation. There is precedent for Oglivarch to cover our losses, it is our duty to make that cost as reasonable as possible. The earlier we evacuate, the more we can save!”
Shouts of agreement rang out, some even from the upper ring. Jennings smirked, as cowards always spouted nonsense about how they were avoiding the fight because of some reason or another. Although, he did like the idea of blaming it on fiscal responsibility, it’s been a while since he had heard that one.
Lord Cosgrave remained seated, and knocked her knuckles loudly on the table to bring order to the proceedings. Her voice was grave as she said, “I hear what you are saying Lord Bevin, and I understand your concerns. However, the law is clear. Dorchester is our responsibility until we can no longer hold it. If an evacuation is necessary, then it will come after we have exhausted all other options. We are citizens of Oglivarch, and we will not shirk from our duty.”
Cheers met her declaration, and Lord Bevin and his cronies grimaced. As he was about to speak, General Branson stepped into center platform from the second ring. Jennings raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s not part of the script. What does he have to say?’ he wondered.
The general’s blue tabard was pristine, the gold inlays accentuating his dark silver chain-mail beautifully. He strode forward like he was marching to battle. He stood at the edge of the platform, so he could address every noble in the inner ring. Without waiting to be recognized, he spoke with an essence infused voice, forcing everyone to hear what he had to say.
“I’ve heard plenty of excuses during my many years of service. Soldiers saying that there was no point in patrolling a forest no one goes into, or complaints about manning a wall that was never under attack. It comes down to what kind of soldier you want to be. Do you stand by the oaths you swore, or are you only ready to serve when that service isn’t required. You are the council of leadership for Dorchester. You all swore oaths to protect this city. If you want to run, I won’t stop you. But if you think I’ll let you handicap my efforts to defend these walls, then you are sorely mistaken.” The general stood with his chin jutted forward, daring anyone to challenge him.
Jennings smiled at the delightful surprise. It was rare to see a general who hadn’t been browbeaten by the nobles into becoming a political tool. He usually only saw that in more martial cities, like in the North, or along the borders. In fact, this seemed very out of character for the man. Jennings squinted in thought. He wondered what prompted the general to make such a stand.
His eyes darted to the small table for the new Lord Walker. Vera Salvatore-Verena stood up. Her gray robes declaring her neutral stance, as House Walker hadn’t yet chosen any house colors. Jennings leaned forward in his seat, excited to see what she had to say.
Facing the general with her hands crossed in front of her waist, Vera looked like the picture of nobility. Her calm voice carried a hint of essence so everyone could easily hear what she had to say. “General Branson, House Walker is with you. We recognize your determination to save this city from the coming peril. With your help, Dorchester will weather this storm and emerge the stronger for it,” she said, then turned to face Lord Bevin, “If Lord Bevin wishes to flee with his riches, then he need not hide behind precedent. House Walker is willing to buy out his manufacturing concerns to allow his house to leave Dorchester without having to doom the city. We will pay half the current market value, as that is what he’d receive from Oglivarch if an evacuation were ordered. What say you Lord Bevin?”
Jennings was trying to contain his laughter. He really did like that woman. She reminded him of a powerful sorceress he had met in the White City, several hundred years ago on the coast of Mayborn. While he was trying to remember the woman’s name, his thoughts were scattered by Lord Bevin.
“If you want to stay in this doomed city, then fine! House Bevin accepts your offer, I’ll do an accounting and have it sent over to you before morning!” He nearly spat out the words, as if it was a threat.
Lord Cosgrave stepped in and said, “The Tower of Law will do the appraisal Lord Bevin. I’m sure you have some packing to do.” Looking around at the other nobles, she said, “Would anyone else like to liquidate their assets and run away? This is probably the best deal you will get. If you plan on leaving, I’d speak up now as this is likely to be your last chance before we declare a siege.”
There was some grumbling, but Jennings hadn’t taken his eyes off Vera. She looked like she had just found the last piece of a puzzle under a desk. ‘What is she up to?’ He wondered.
Lord Bevin stormed out of the council hall, and Lord Cosgrave went about closing the meeting. While the meeting was breaking up, he was surrounded by nobles asking his opinion. Looking around, he saw Mage-adept Newling was surrounded as well. It was too bad he couldn’t pawn these morons off on her. Forcing himself to project the image of a dignified arch-mage, he tried to calmly answer their questions.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Receiving a ping from Nero, he maintained his calm exterior as he split his mind to open a connection, “What’s wrong now?” he asked.
-----
Nero sipped his whiskey, or something that was close enough to whiskey, then sighed in contentment. This was just what he needed after a day of dealing with people who belonged in the human resources department.
He looked over at Jennings. The man was propped up on Nero’s bed, smiling and smelling his whiskey. It looked like the man needed this as much as he did.
“Long day?” Nero asked.
With a smirk on his face, Jennings said, “Did you know that you just bought out several manufacturing concerns? At least Vera got you a good deal.”
Nero shrugged, the last thing on his mind was money. That was the entire reason he put Vera in charge of House Walker. He said, “I’m sure she knows what she’s doing. I’ll bet you a hundred valens that she has a convoluted plan to…. Never mind, I just figured out what she’s doing. They are a bunch of general manufacturing concerns aren’t they? Maybe some blacksmiths or fabrication shops?”
Jennings raised his eyebrows in shock, lowering his glass to stare at Nero. “How in the hells did you know that? What’s she going to do with them?” he asked, genuinely curious.
Shrugging, Nero took another sip and propped his legs up onto the edge of the bed, while still sitting in his desk chair. Offering a smirk, he said, “Trade secret, my man. You’ll just have to wait a bit. I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough.”
Jennings chuckled, but let it go. “So what did you want to talk about?” he asked.
Nero pulled his legs off the bed, and leaned forward in interest. “Right!” he said. Reaching behind him, he grabbed the book on essence vortices and tossed it over to Jennings. The man caught the book with his mind, then set it off to the side.
“I know what you were reading. Just ask your questions,” said Jennings while smiling slyly.
Nero snorted, and said, “Stop being so dramatic. I wanted to know how to close dungeons and other things like that. We’re going to be heading out into the wilds soon, and I need to know how to deal with what’s out there.”
Jennings gave Nero a look like he was an idiot. “Why do you have to know anything about that? You’re not going to be doing any of that. It’s not your responsibility. As a matter-of-fact, it’s not even your call whether or not the essence knots need to be unraveled.”
Not backing down, Nero said, “Let’s call it a hunch. I’m betting something annoying is going to happen that separates me from my group along with the main force. Then I’m going to have to perform some heroics, save some people, resolve some interpersonal issues among squad-mates or hunters that I run into, then I’ll have to close a dungeon or planar gate in order to avert a disaster.”
Jennings leaned forward off the wall, and sat cross-legged on the bed. With wide eyes, he hurriedly asked, “Have you seen this? Do you have predictive sight? Was it a vision? How do you know what will happen?”
It was Nero’s turn to look at Jennings like the man was an idiot. “Isn’t that what always happens in situations like this? I’d say that I’m not psychic, but that doesn’t mean what it used to mean. But rest assured, I don’t have ‘predictive sight’. I just recognize logical patterns. Now tell me how to close a portal or whatever,” demanded Nero.
Jennings squinted at Nero, as if he wasn’t sure what to believe. Visibly shaking his head to clear the question from his mind, he said, “It’s actually pretty simple, but difficult to accomplish. You have to approach the essence knot. For all intents and purposes they are all the same. The scale is just different. Spawn points tend to be tiny, so you might be able to untie one of them. Never untie a dungeon or planar gate.” As he said that, he gave Nero a hard stare in order to emphasize that what he had just said was an absolute.
Nero asked, “Why not?”
Jennings said, “Several reasons. One, because people might be on the other side. Two, because they can be incredibly beneficial to a city’s economy. Three, and this is the most important point, they actually serve to stabilize an area’s essence signature. Granted, during a time of transition like this, they are very dangerous. But in the long run, they will be needed.”
Nero said, “All right, but spawners need to be shut down right?”
Jennings nodded, and said, “Oh yes. Especially now, during a density shift. After things stabilize, there will probably be a ton of them needed in order to maintain the essence flow around Dorchester. But now they are acting as a trap for the essence flows. General Branson was smart when he reinstated the elite hunters. For the next few months, every spawn point will need to be untied so that the essence can get to the nascent proto-dungeons in order to bleed off some of the potential. It will serve to slow down the city’s level shift, buying time for preparations and allowing the outlying villages and towns to evacuate into Dorchester.”
Nero tried to conceptualize what Jennings was trying to say, and he sort of understood what the man was getting at. He said, “It’s like making sure the hose isn’t kinked when filling a pool.” Nero nodded at his brilliant metaphor.
Jennings cocked his head in confusion, and said, “It’s nothing like that. Using your analogy, the pool is going to be filled anyway, all you’re doing is poking holes in the hose so that it takes longer. The dungeons are the holes, and the spawn points are acting as patches, covering the leaks.”
Nero nodded, and said, “Yeah, exactly what I meant. I knew you’d understand what I was trying to say.” He pointed at his head, then pointed at Jennings, indicating that they were on the same mental wavelength. “You get me,” he said.
Jennings chuckled and said, “Well when you find a spawn point, just focus on trying to untangle the essence streams. It shouldn’t be that difficult. The hard part will be getting close enough. Spawn points are typically swarmed by whatever they are spawning.”
Nero said, “That’s incredibly vague, but I guess I’ll just have to wait and see what you mean.”
Nodding, Jennings said, “I’m sure you’ll do fine, but I don’t think you’ll have to do it yourself. Your unit will have plenty of people with experience in shutting down spawners. Now, is there anything else you’d like to talk about? I really should get going, I have other things to do.”
Nero smiled and propped his feet back up the bed, and said, “Oh… just one or two things I was wondering about. Shouldn’t take too long. Pour yourself another drink, you’ve got time.”
Jennings shook his head at Nero’s antics, but leaned back and decided to humor the amusing young man. “OK, so what do you want to know?”
Nero smirked and said, “Let’s start with how to maintain communications while in the field. I’ve heard that’s important.”
Jennings shrugged, and said, “Sure, if you say so.”
For the rest of the evening, Nero took advantage of the old man’s wisdom. He couldn’t believe how useful it was to have someone who actually ANSWERED the questions he asked. Nero had become used to being told that in order to receive an answer, he’d have to sit through all the related material. Jennings however, didn’t seem to care. The wonderful man just answered what was asked, and enjoyed watching Nero try and figure out the details.
After several glasses of whiskey, Nero was feeling a little tipsy. He held up his glass and said, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Jennings looked confused and asked, “What in the hells are you talking about?”
Nero frowned. Realizing that Jennings was never going to get the reference, he said, “Don’t worry about it. I’d rather hear about what that Mathers guy said when he found out you were the one who kept stealing his coffee.”
Chuckling, Jennings said, “Oh! Well, that’s a good one….”