Darnith
16 th Ryzul, 1092.
Only a few hours after the bridge's completion, news spread far and wide across Destia, confirming to her inhabitants the earnestness of Rosendun's desire to conquer Merriheim.
The people of Merriheim were divided by the news. Many had become so disillusioned to war that this seemed to them just another phase that would come and pass just like many before it. After all, had many not tried the same in the past and failed? Though wounded and beaten, Merriheim always emerged intact after every battle or war. This new threat would be the same... If not, what was the worst that could happen? Their lives were hell either way.
Others were not quite as optimistic.
In fact, a few days later, a rowdy meeting was being conducted in a run-down (but still functioning) fort town some kilometers north-west of Deserun to address the very situation. This town—called Darnith—though small, was situated on quite the strategic landmark.
It occupied territory on the King's Road (a term used to signify main roads between cities) across which one would have to pass if they wished to either visit Imperium or advance further into Merriheim. All three of Merriheim's significant roads leading to Imperium had been destroyed during the war, as a tactic of preventing the Markothian Empire from having easy access to the Imperial City.
After the war, Darnith no longer had any strategic value. Also, the burning desert's creation ceased supply of water to its only source of clean water: a stream that channeled close-by. Most folks abandoned the town soon after. They either became wanderers* or migrated further north to either Ralffall or Moyan, both small cities situated along the semi-circular border between Merriheim and Drakase.
This meeting—like with so many M errite meetings—had more shouting and screaming than any actual decisions made. Leaders from several factions insulted each other over the table, some resorting to fisticuffs to prove their point.
At one end of the table, a lithe hooded figure raised her mug as a Nordic warrior, and a Lycan* crashed onto the table, snapping its legs beneath their weight. The resulting draft brushed off her cowl, revealing a bored, and disappointed female of the c hetah race. She was dressed in a minimalist manner, with only armguards for protection and small pieces of cloth that covered her more sensitive parts.
The chetah, having had enough of the pointless meeting, decided to leave. Before she did so, however, she had to bid goodbye to Sheri O r thana: the only prime in this desolate country with a shred of foresight. The Halben woman held her place at a stone chair at the head of the table, regarding the proceedings with almond-shaped blue eyes that resembled lagoons. Her once unblemished skin—taken care of by the perfumes and waters of Mònòch—was now ruddy and hard, having acclimatized to Merriheim's harsh weather.
Her outfit was as comfortable as it was commanding, worn almost as practically as her long straight, red hair, which she brushed over her shoulder as the ashen-furred woman approached.
"Asha," Orthana greeted. Her voice was somewhat hoarse, probably from shouting at the feral men throughout the day. "You're not staying?"
The chetah grunted. "No." With that, all pleasantries were completed, and she exited the hall, stopping only to retrieve her swords. Her magnificently long tail was the last thing Orthana saw before the door slammed shut. The draft produced tore a poster off the wall, where it was swiftly picked up by the desert wind.
Asha's clawed paws trudged through the ruins, sand-colored eyes narrowed in disgust at the destroyed buildings around her. They reminded her too much of things she could never forget.
She deliberately stepped on a straw doll in an attempt to banish the weeping cub that plagued her mind. The cub that choked on smoke from her burning village forced to watch her father beaten, then dragged out by the primes. All to participate in a stupid war...
"How'd it go, boss?" A deep, gruff voice asked, cutting her reverie. Asha looked up to see an albino feline of the Sphinx tribe leaning against the fort's damaged gate. Much like her, he only sported metal armguards and leather shorts. A double-volgue rested on the wall, almost as tall as the massive lion-beast. Green eyes surrounded by very wild manes studied her countenance. "Judging by that scowl, I'm guessing it didn't go too well, huh?"
"Diatte." Asha barely acknowledged his question with an irritated growl as she brushed past.
"That bad, huh?" Diatte surmised as he lifted his weapon and followed her past the gate.
"I did warn you," chastised a voice once they were past the gate. A rather odd-looking male Chetah dressed in a robe drew a long draft from his smoking pipe then calmly released it. He had one hand in his garment as he approached them, expression serene. "These primes have no foresight besides fulfilling their next greedy impulse. We should never have come here."
Asha paused, eyes downcast as she turned to answer her mentor: One of the few men whose opinion she respected. "I did take that into consideration, Kaga. I just wanted to see if there was a chance... Even the tiniest that they would join forces against this threat."
"Asha, not everybody is as capable as you are," Kaga said as he stepped past her and gazed at the wastelands before them. "Uniting the tribes was an impossible task accomplished only because it was done by you. Do not insult yourself by deeming these greedy fools capable of your insight."
What Kaga referred to, was the imminent extinction of sentient beastkin as a direct result of the Daeben Wars in which beastkin were forced to fight on the frontlines by the primes. Unlike the l ycan and c hesch tribes , which were accepted by the primes, most beast kin — Asha’s included—were deemed inferior and had next to no choice as to whether they fought or not.
The chetah—like many feline races—never had a high birth rate, to begin with, and their numbers only dwindled at a faster pace as the war took more and more males, leaving the females to die out.
Now, Asha wandered Merriheim as one of the few survivors of what many believed to be the last generation of the chetah, with only one purpose: To save her people. But if that failed, to be the one to destroy them with her own hands. She would not let the history of their proud clan be ended by either time or ignorant primes.
Asha gritted her teeth. "You say that, but in reality, there's only about a hundred hiding in a hidden village. That's not unification, it's false camaraderie born of desperation."
"Maybe so," Diatte refuted with a low growl. "But you have s phinxes, c hetahs, and t oras sharing the same dwelling space. That is something to be proud of. Regardless of it was done by desperation, cunning, or design... You saved us."
Asha’s eyes sparked with fury as she whirled around. "I have only extended our inevitable extinction."
Asha turned around and made her way towards the city's main gates, flanked on either side by her generals who knew better than to press the subject further. A feline warrior emerged from the ruins, left hand clasped to his chest, and head bowed as she passed. He joined up behind them, soon joined by another, then another, their numbers growing steadily till they reached the main gate.
The fifty-odd warriors paused as a strong gale blew past, and deposited the aforementioned poster at Asha's feet.
Asha stepped on the rough sketch of the daeben who threatened their country, then stomped past, eyes red with bloodlust. Whatever her people's outcome, she would find this daeben , and she would look into his eyes as she ran her sword through his greedy heart. "This I swear..."
The company advanced through the wasteland, their forms eventually swallowed by Merriheim's flying sands.
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Meilfour.
Kashi sat at the head of a long rectangular table, studying his Twilight Wolf sketch. Miote and Hektor stood at either side of him, while Kira lay by his side, enjoying a short nap. The conference room they occupied was situated in a new council building erected by their mayor as part of his improvements to the town.
These upgrades—which left Kashi broke—included surrounding walls, barracks for training soldiers , new buildings and apartments, and a colossal art emporium at the city’s center. These were far from the mayor's ideal state for the town, but Kashi lacked the required funds to do much else. He wasn't overly concerned, though. Between the bridge and Suvron's Gate, he would soon have far more money than he knew what to do with.
Kashi examined the prompt that appeared whenever he looked at the Twilight Wolf Sketches.
Do You Wish To Turn Your StoryBoard into A Story Painting?
YES NO LATER
Kashi’s hesitation was caused by his ignorance as to what a Story Painting actually was. None of the artists in Merriheim had a clue either, which meant it was something exclusive to a Dimension Artist. He grunted, wishing they had used the word 'upgrade' instead of 'turn.' That would have made his decision so much easier.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Kashi realized he had no choice. Attempts to replicate the storyboard had ended in failure, both manually and using the auto-skill. He was always going to end up turning it sooner or later. Might as well find out what the thing meant.
Kashi clicked yes and then watched with bated breath as a bright light enveloped the sketchbook, which then floated off of his hand.
Please Choose Size:
Pocket; Portrait; Poster; Grand.
If he was doing this thing, might as well go big. Kashi chose Grand.
Insufficient Materials!
Requirement: 40 Canvases
Kashi cursed under his breath. He had used up most of his canvases for Project Fame, and he had no plans of wasting his reserve money buying more. He relented and chose portrait, then winced as a prompt alerted him to the loss of 25 Canvases.
The greedy mass of light pulsed, then expanded rapidly, taking a rather large rectangular shape, much larger than what Kashi had envisioned when he chose Poster. Without further fanfare, the rectangular shape spread itself on the table, then dissipated, leaving all three men with their mouths agape.
Before them sat a single canvas, whose picture was a merging of all the pages of the previous sketchbook. The moving image started with Hektor and Kashi laying on opposite ends of a window, a harsh rain dividing them, then followed the course of Kashi's sketches till they eventually rested on one another. It was basically a GIF on paper...
"What the he-"
The doors swung open, forcing Kashi to quickly place the portrait in his inventory. He would deal with that later. For now, he had vital matters to discuss.
Muko walked in, followed closely behind by Merrites of different races. The trade council members took their seats around the table, where they were handed sheaves of papers by Miote. Kashi glanced at the members gathered, then motioned for Miote to start as planned.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," started the Chesch. "You have my sincere gratitude for your presence at this gathering." A short pause as they returned the obligatory greeting. "Last night, the bridge connecting us to Rosendun was completed." Triumphant cries echoed across the room, and he waited for them to finish. "However, that was only the beginning. The real challenge begins now."
Miote paused, allowing his words to sink in. "Our actions will attract visitors eager to appraise our budding town. If we fail to meet the standards of these appraisers—especially those of my fellow Summoned—we will lose momentum and, as a result, a lot of profit." He smiled at their collective groans. He liked dealing with traders because t heir goal was simple: maximum profit. Politicians, on the other hand, were far murkier.
Miote continued. "Now, I have discussed at length with Miote, who I am sure you are all familiar with by now." The delf gave a short nod the tradesmen's claps of acknowledgment. "We devised strategies for us to handle this situation. With your help, of course."
He paused here, answering a few questions thrown his way, then continued. "The biggest issue we faced was accommodation for visitors. We are a small town. No amount of improvements to Rine's or new buildings will be able to handle the influx." Miote glanced at Kashi, who nodded. "I have confirmed that renovations to Suvron's Gate will be completed in two days. A number of its floors have been designed for accommodations, totaling almost seven hundred rooms."
The collective gasps confirmed what he already knew: The numbers were overkill. But he and Kashi had two reasons for choosing to use up almost seven floors of the behemothian tower just for accommodations. The first was its sheer size. To house a giant Hydra, its diameter was akin to a football field—a stupendous size for any building. There was far too much useless space, so he'd commissioned its second to eight floors for accommodations, varying the sizes and style of rooms to meet the standards of most hotels in the real world.
The first floor served as an information and commercial hub where people could get information on either Merriheim or Rosendun and also book rooms if they wished to rest.
The other reason for the number of rooms was the crowd that Kashi had met by the bridge. If that was the number of people gathered before the bridge even got started, he shuddered to imagine how many would flock into Merriheim , and from Merriheim to Rosendun once it was officially opened. The number could easily reach thousands. Merriheim, in its current state, definitely could not handle that number of people en masse. Suvron's Gate would, therefore, serve as a natural buffer, also reducing congestion in the city.
The Gate's higher floors would still be closed by the time it opened. Kashi planned to put an assortment of exciting activities on those floors like training halls, swimming pools, art galleries, libraries... but for that, he needed funds. Funds he currently lacked.
"It is not enough for these people to come here," Miote said. "Our aim is to make them stay as long as possible. The longer they stay, the more money they spend. The more money they spend, the richer we all get. But to do this, we need to give them something they cannot get anywhere else. I would like to direct your attention to the blueprints in front of you."
These blueprints contained brand new armor and weapon styles designed by Kashi, accompanied by specific steps to craft them in ways the continent had never seen. There were also instructions on crafting new types of musical instruments which they were not entirely familiar with, and many conceptual arts he wished them to recreate.
"Meilfour isn't blessed with the most beautiful terrain, and its nearby dungeons are not as challenging or interesting as Mònòch's," Miote said. "However, this city's beauty lies not in its landscapes, but in its people. The art that pours out of this city is its strength, and it is in that strength that we must focus our energy." His voice ascended steadily, tone increasingly excited. "I want sculptures lining the streets, beautiful melodies serenading the wandering adventurer as he passes. I want each and every room to speak its own language... I want ART people!" Padded paws slammed the table, eyes boring into each trader present. His voice dropped, low, but authoritative. "That is what you have. That is what you own! It is your identity! No one. Not a corrupt mayor or a damned secret church can take that from you. People will remember Meilfour, not as a footnote in history, but as the most beautiful city to ever grace Destia's fortunate lands!" With a seductive smile, the golden Chesch spread his arms as he reached the end of his presentation. "Well then, how about we get started, creating this wasteland's gem."
UOOO!!
The conference room exploded with the shouts and claps, the Merrites banging the table with unmatched fervor and adoration.
"I will be to your respective shops with further specifics," Miote said. "Now, if you please, our lovely orchestra has prepared a presentation for you."
Kashi, who had remained a silent an aloof observer, grinned behind the mask that covered half his face. He shared a glance with Miote, communicating his approval.
Miote, in turn, nodded, then escorted the excited traders out of the hall, leaving Muko and two others behind.
Kashi drew back his cowl and tugged down the mask. He took a deep breath, got up, then met Muko halfway across the table. The Hunters clasped forearms in greeting as the two remaining tradesmen rounded the table and walked up to them. The first was a dwarf named Nudemi, while the other was a wisben named Netear Vinelance.
Nudemi was a master Smithworker and unofficially also a Master Enchanter—he had been unable to travel to Imperium to take the Master's exam. Netear, on the other hand, was an intermediate alchemist.
Kashi greeted both men , and then proceeded immediately to discuss his reasons for summoning them. He handed notes detailing his dealings with Rune-marking and Enchantments to Nudemi. He also gave the man a pair of perfected headphones with perfected sound gems. After sharing his vision for these items, he let the excited—and somewhat frightened—dwarf rush back to his workshop to get started.
Kashi then turned his attention to Netear Vinelance. After confirmation from Muko that this man could truly be trusted, he traveled back to Deserun together with the elf, explaining his horrific plan on the way. A man of science himself, the Wisben did not seem overly bothered by Kashi's proposal. If anything, he was elated at such an opportunity to witness the limits of a Summoned's body.
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Later that night, after Kashi had confirmed that proceedings in all areas under his control were as they should be, he showed Netear to his workshop.
"Wait," Kashi paused at the door. "Drink this first," he instructed, handing the man a vial of black liquid.
"What is it?" Netear asked though he downed the contents before receiving his answer. He winced, then gagged, repulsed by the terrible taste.
"It is an antidote," Kashi explained as he forced open the air-tight door.
"What for?" Netear asked as he followed Kashi down the stairs.
"Everything you cannot see right now," Kashi vaguely replied. He picked up a transparent flask from a nearby table. It contained a clear green liquid that sloshed about as Kashi shook the flask . "You might recognize the smell if you come a little closer."
Netear frowned. "No need. I recognize that poison well enough. Why do you have such a dangerous thing out in the open?"
Kashi tapped his nose. "Building a tolerance. You failed to notice I did not take any antidotes before entering."
The alchemist's feet weakened, and he had to grab onto a table for support. Sure he'd heard of it in theory. But someone willing to subject himself to poisonous gases for the amount of time it would take his body to gain an immunity could not be considered human. There was seriously something wrong with this man.
Kashi returned the flask to its place. A week plus working in this place while inhaling the damned thing had paid off. He was nigh immune to any form of poison—it would take boss level poisons to make him sneeze now.
That is not to say it had been easy. Kashi glanced at a n empty makeshift IV drip. The first two days had been the worst. He had survived only because of the same ingenuity that he'd used to keep the beasts alive for his experiments. Although unlike them, he could not afford to dull out the pain.
Kashi tried that once, but all the pain he should have felt returned after the effects wore off in a severe backlash that nearly logged him off. So, he endeavored to suffer the poisons' consequences in real-time, while working on his various crafts, kept alive by health potions.
Kashi winced as he stared at the metal contraption he would be seated in for the next couple of weeks. He sat down on the chair, then nodded for Netear to fasten the locks on his arm and feet. He glanced at the IV as Netear stuck the needle into his exposed arm.
This was the point of no return. If he wanted, Kashi could still choose to abandon this foolish and beyond reckless plan. But the daeben had unfortunately inherited his creator's penchant for madness. Kashi glanced at Netear who nodded to show everything was ready.
Netear's fingers hovered over the lever, which would start this madness. At Kashi's word, he pulled it down and watched as volts of electricity shot out from charged gemstones placed in the chair and assaulted the daeben.
"GRAAaaa..nngh!" Kashi bit down his scream with gritted teeth, bloody eyes focused at the focused wall in front of him. First day: Electricity. Second day: Flame. He just had to make it past these two days.
Then his magic resistance and Health Regeneration rate should reach a level where he could safely logout, and leave his body for Netear to watch over... Just two more days.
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"Two days my ass," Suzuki muttered, lips curled in amused irritation, as he stared at the ceiling. He hopped out of the machine and stretched, relieved to feel a body without pain. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like. "More like five, dumbass."