It was a calm morning in the town of Borsdown. The workers had made their way to the quarry and the permanent residents rested in preparation for the lunch rush. The guards kept watch from the walls and would call for help if something big came out of the woods.
Guard captain Dor Holden sat in his office going through paperwork. He had a few letters from the cities ordering stone to forward to the quarry. Most of them informed him of how many dwarves the town could expect to come as new workers, the dwarves that had shamed their families, losing competitions or bets and the ones who had gone into debt and wanted to work it off.
The town was rowdy, even for dwarven cities, the many different clans the workers stemmed from in constant competition. Every night a few dozen dwarves would be brought to the cells to sober out after a brawl. The guard captain still liked this place. It was the only dwarven town where someone like him could reach such a high position. He had ranked up his Class six years ago, at the young age of 82. Reaching level one-hundred was a milestone that had found him respected even by his old clan. He had left when he was of age, at twenty years old. The whole carving business was not his calling. Dor Holden was a fighter. He wanted to measure himself on the monsters of the wild.
His greatest wish was to measure himself against a [Node Guardian] one day. The beasts protecting the sources of all dwarven technology’s power were said to be supreme masters of magic and sapient as well. Though in no way would Dor ever endanger his people. The clan-less running the mining town had become his new family.
A deep sigh escaped his lips as the stocky dwarf leaned back into his chair. That was the last of the letters. Now he would patrol the wall and look for any parts requiring maintenance. That thought was interrupted by rapid knocking on his door.
“What?” he called out with his gruff voice.
The answer came muffled through the thick wood.
“There’s someone we need you to [Identify], sir!” one of the guards said.
“I’m coming”, Dor answered.
The captain stood up and stretched before walking out of his office. He was the only dwarf with level seven [Identify] in this town. It had reached this level as he ranked up his Class as one of the bonuses. Now, whenever there was someone coming into town without announcing their arrival, he was called to assist the inspection.
Dor stepped into the guard station within the gatehouse. It was directly connected to the barracks to let the guards deploy quickly in case of emergency. What he saw there, sitting on the table instead of the chair normally used for questioning, left him speechless. A construct of metal, interlinked with floating shadows that had a physical weight to them. It looked like an owl, though quite a bit larger than what he would have expected, had someone told him what he was meeting today. The eyes, shining golden and silver in the light of the vis lamp, were meeting his with a stare that would send any child running. Then it blinked. The blasted thing was alive! It was made from metal! And it was alive!
The captain's eyes looked it over once more. The owl was made from a mix of golden and silver metals. They were not too expensive-looking and he quickly identified them as iron and brass. The face had some actual gold within, primarily the eyes. The wings were made of frames shaped like feathers, the wires filled with the physical shadows floating lazily all around the being. A necklace adorned its body, made from the same darkness. In front of its chest, a purplish stone held by a thin gold frame hung. Parts of the stone seemed to shift over its bindings and for a moment Dor feared it was a thaumaturge's warped creation, but it felt exceptionally stable when he reached out for the item's mana.
The owl was still eyeing him as a guard coughed into his hand, ripping the captain out of his staring contest.
“Right, what’s going on?” Dor asked the offender.
“Safrah here found this Guardian in one of the alleyways and brought it here. Apparently, it flew into town and skipped registration.”
Just then Dor spotted the woman standing back near the door. She was one of the leather workers who often processed the guards’ hunts. She was fiddling with the hem of her working shirt. It looked like she had dropped her work right where she stood and only put on her dionan before rushing over. The captain nodded to the woman.
“She’s not a Guardian, she said” Safrah almost whispered. She was clearly frightened.
“Not a guardian?” Dor wondered aloud. “Right, let’s get to it.”
He focused on the being, now being more cautious. Just then, the crystal around its neck glowed and shifted intensely for a moment. Dor’s Skills gave no warning so he held back drawing the sword on his hip. Then, he felt something connect to him more deeply than even [Identify] would. Something was touching his soul and made the stocky dwarf squirm in his boots. Until the feeling stabilized and a voice spoke directly into his mind.
“Hello, guard captain. I am Fio. I need a healing potion.”
The dwarves mouth opened. The owl tilted her head. The mouth was still open. This time, it was the leatherworker who brought him to his senses. Dor had never experienced something like this. How could one directly speak into another’s mind? That had to be thaumaturgy! This had to be some accursed ork’s pet!
He halted his thoughts. Best to ask first. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions. He nodded at the owl.
“Hello, Fio. I am Dor Holden, guard captain of Borsdown. If you are not a Guardian, then are you with the orks?”
Instantly the air in the guardhouse shifted. The four protectors shifted their hands to their weapons and narrowed their eyes. The owl looked around, a tendril of shadows sneaking towards the door and Safrah.
“I am not.” She sent to his mind. Dor felt the truth within her words. Before he could ask her to clarify, she continued. “I am my own. My friend needs help. She is a [Node Guardian] and she got hurt. I need a healing potion.”
Never had the guard captain’s Skill been this convinced someone spoke the truth. Was the connection to his soul one he could use as well? He tried sending a thought.
“Hello?”
“Yes. Hello.”
The owl looked displeased. Her eyes had narrowed and her head was lowered a little. Even the shadows within her wings were turbulent. Dor caught himself. She had said something about an injured Guardian. He had to get things done with.
“Right”, he spoke, “You are not with the orks.”
The tension in the room eased considerably, the dwarves breathing once again.
“Let me get this done with and then Ogart here will escort you to our brewers.”
The owl nodded.
[Identify]
Species: Sgiathan Dorcha Owl (adult)
Age: 0
Name: Fio
Gender: female
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Status: sapient, healthy, Beast Core (unique), metallized, tenebrous, ordered, outside
Level: 25
Class: [Assassin], -
Dor froze. Never had he seen such a status. The owl was not even a year old and had reached level 25? How was that possible? A Beast Core as well. Only the most powerful of Guardians were said to have one. But she was no Guardian. That would have shown in her Status. Instead, there were some weird effects he had never seen before. Those had to be what made this bird appear as otherworldly as it was.
And then the Class. An [Assassin]. How could he with good conscience let an [Assassin] walk free in his town? Then again, if she had wanted to harm someone, it would have been much easier to keep to the shadows. He had no doubt this monster could have done something like that with ease. Instead, it was asking for a healing potion for its friend.
This was just too absurd. He pulled up his own status to compare.
Species: Felt-Ear Dwarf (Adult)
Age: 88
Name: Dor Holden
Gender: male
Status: healthy, sapient, vis enriched (minor), guard captain (Borsdown)
Level: 40
Class: [Guard Captain lvl 105], -
Strength: 56
Constitution: 57
Dexterity: 30
Perception: 40
Intelligence: 20
Wisdom: 20
AP: 0
Skills: [Attentive Hearing lvl 6], [Dwarven Strength lvl 4], [Dwarven Hands lvl 4]
[Identify lvl 7], [Carving lvl 4]
[No Retreat lvl 7], [Shield Mastery lvl 6], [Saviour lvl 7], [Commandeering lvl 7], [Never Falter lvl 4]
If the owl had such a high race level, her Class had to be decent as well. They probably aligned a lot more than most sapient races. At least he had several Skills at level seven. It was said one needed higher mana enrichment to progress past that but those secrets were well protected by the family’s elites.
“Right. So”, Dor began, “You are not a Guardian. Okay…”
He trailed off.
Ogart spoke up.
“So she’s fine? What about paying for the potion?”
The owl looked over before sending another thought at the captain.
“I have materials liberated from the orks. I can also offer my services if there is a need. Not only killing. I can do some thaumaturgy.”
Dor shook his head and slapped his cheeks.
“I think I need to talk to you some more”, he addressed the owl, “but for now, go and get that potion, Ogart. I’ll pay for it in advance.”
The owl turned around and made to leave.
“You wait here!” Dor said, “I have some questions that need answering and we can use the time until Ogart comes back.”
The owl looked back at him only turning her head.
“We can talk over a long distance with the supersensory matrix. How far is the brewer?”
“It’s on the other end of town. The potions are needed more at the quarries than here at the station.”
The beast considered for a moment.
“Don’t you have potions in stock here, then? Could I have one of those?”
“No, we don’t. We only use them for expeditions. If the walls are breached a potion won’t help.”
The owl sunk in on herself looking decidedly dwarven for a moment.
“Fine”, she sent and turned her body around, “Let’s talk. And tell Ogart to hurry.”
Dor sat down and the owl hopped into the chair opposite. She was quite tall, looking down on him. Her metallic eyes staring endlessly into something he could never hope to see.
“Get going, Ogart. And don’t dawdle!”
The dwarf only gave a nod as he exited the building.
As Dor opened his mouth to start his questions, a small voice spoke up from next to the door.
“Um, do you need me here, or..?”
Safrah was fidgeting even more now.
Dor nodded to her.
“Yes. I want to talk to you after Fio here gets her potion.”
The woman nodded meekly and leaned on the wall. When one of the guards pulled out another chair for her, she nodded to him thankfully and sat down in the back of the room. The owl looked at her and nodded. It looked to be intended as encouraging and somehow managed to draw a small smile on the woman’s face.
“Now, let’s talk”, Dor began his questioning.
And today had been such a nice and calm morning.