Chapter 16: Beast Cores and Violence
Landar
Half way through carving the neck off the matriarch, I found a round glowing ball covered in a thin pink membrane. I knew what it was. I had read its description several dozen times in more than a few of the books from the temple’s small library.
It was a beast core.
I pocketed it and then went back to decapitating the massive monster.
It took nearly two hours to carve down to where I could see the dwarf. I found his feet near where the neck and head were now severed. He had been hiding in a small rock outcropping. It saved him from being crushed by the wolf when it died.
Pulling on the dwarves’ legs did nothing but make him cuss at me in a language I didn’t understand. When I stopped, he yelled at me and I had to strain to hear his muffled voice.
“My leg is broken, boy! Stop pulling on it!”
I sighed. I’d have to carve the wolf up more. I had wanted to save the pelt, but at least part of it was going to be a complete loss.
By the time I had carved down the underside length of the wolf and created enough space for me to pull him out, I was spent. My arms were shaking, legs were weak, and my knees felt numb.
I didn’t have the energy to gently do anything, and the wolf was going to crush him if I didn’t do something. So I just grabbed one leg, hoping it wasn’t the injured one, and pulled.
“GAAAH!”
I had chosen wrong.
I felt and heard a popping noise as the leg relocated back into its socket. Apparently, it hadn’t been broken after all.
I collapsed and my eyes closed as the dwarf stood over me, tenderly testing his leg. He was clothed in thick, but shredded padding that protected from chafing under heavy armor. The armor itself was nowhere to be seen.
“You did good, lad.” He lifted my hatchet with one hand. “Don’t you worry. I’ll handle things from here.”
I closed my eyes, unable to keep them open any longer.
***
I woke up near the entrance to the cave, covered in a thick blanket of sun-dried wolf hide. Blood still seeped from it in places. I gagged and nearly puked from the smell as I extracted myself.
“Oh, you’re awake. Good.” The dwarf pointed to the hide. “Sorry about that. You were shivering something fierce. Got you some water and put you under them. Best I knew how to do. But you’re awake, so it seems I did fine.” The dwarf was bent over the fire pit, which had a distinctly smaller fire at its heart now. Though one that spewed more smoke into the air than the one I had made.
“The wood smoke should tell people where we are, while keeping the bugs away. At least for a little bit. Are you good to walk, boy?” I tested my legs and body, walking around a bit.
“Yes sir, I think so. Just exhausted is all.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. I can tell you’re not used to this kind of work. Though the forge calluses on your hands and knuckles confused me. Were you sick recently, then?” I nodded. “Well good, you lived to save me. Thank you for that, by the way. Names Gragon, of the Woodburner clan. I can walk too, but I’ll be slow, even for my folk.“ He pointed towards the sky. The sun was nearly down.
If we moved fast, we’d be able to get back before sunset. But we’d need to practically sprint to get there. There was no way the dwarf could keep up, and honestly, I wasn’t sure if I had the energy either.
“I don’t think it’s wise to stay here tonight. The smell of blood will attract scavengers.”
“Already did.” The dwarf pointed towards a small dog shaped frame over in one corner. It was a coyote, but one the size of a Great Dane. “This little ax of yours is useful, even if it’s primitive craftsmanship.” He pulled my hatchet up and held it up to the light of the fire. “Has some magic in it, but like most of you, humans work its brute force. Very little finesse. No runes of shaping, or sigal of control. No real enchantment at all, really, just raw magic shoved in and told to stay and what to do. Crude, but I can’t say it’s not effective.”
My aching head spun from the back-handed compliment, and the double, or was it triple? Negative he had used to describe my hatchet’s effectiveness.
“You talk more than I thought dwarves did.” He looked over at me with hurt in his eyes.
“What? You think we’re all stodgy stone wardens? Who only speak when spoken to? And communicate with our own secret language of grunts of feet shuffling? Poppycock. I’m a dwarf, damn it, from a merchant clan. Sure I’m a guard, but I’m damn good at it, and damn proud of my clan and what we do.”
I saw I had hurt not only his personal sense of dwarfness but also his pride in his clan. How I had done the second confused me, but I let it go.
“I apologize. I meant no offense. You’re just not what I expected. Merchants are valued by my family, and more than a few are our closest friends.” I bowed in apology.
Gragon smiled from ear to ear. “And you’re not what I expected from a little human whelpling. You got a silver tongue in your head, when you think to use it. Now, tonight we’ll stay here. I’ll protect us from danger while you keep the fire going and scrape the hides clean. Come morning, we’ll make a crude cart and be off back to your little city.”
“I fear my father might come looking for us. He might be out doing that already.”
“Who’s your father, lad?” He asked the question, not out of curiosity but obviously trying to get a kid’s mind off of the dangers in the coming dark. He was indulging me, and while it would have been fine had I actually been a kid, I found it condescending.
“Captain of the southern gatehouse. Tomas Gaudhaus.”
Gargon’s eyebrows went up. “You’re the sickly little welp he’s always been talking about?” He took me in again, examining me from head to toe. “Well, I can see your mother in you, that’s for sure.”
“You know my mother?”
“Aye, my whole caravan and most of my clan does. She fed us what, three years back, when one of our caravans was in a bit of a spot and penniless in the middle of winter. Fed us throughout the deepest snows I’ve ever seen. Your father gave us shelter in some outbuildings that winter too, when he learned we were sleeping in the streets. When another caravan arrived that spring to save us and get us home, the clan tried to pay wergild as a thank you, but she turned it down. Said it wouldn’t be right to accept money for a gift given in the mother's grace, or something.”
“They never told me they had dealings with dwarves.” I was skeptical of his story. Not because my parents wouldn’t do something like that, they most certainly would. But because it sounded kinda far-fetched. A story made up to get me on this guys ‘side’ and let him take me for a ride for the goods we were going to harvest from the wolves.
"They probably never told you because they do that kind of thing a lot among your people, I hear.”
He wasn’t wrong. Elsbeth, I had come to understand, was a pillar of our tenement neighborhood. When people had troubles, they came and asked for her advice. If they needed food, they asked her if anyone had any and she arranged it. If they needed shelter, she helped them find places. While Tomas was considered unbelievably wealthy by the standards of the drudges and freemen that made up our neighborhood. The two made, in the context of our poor renters neighborhood, a charitable power couple.
I first thought it was social. Mere excuses for Elsbeth’s friends to come say hello, leave the confines of their own homes to gossip and visit. Until a few days ago, when an older woman, a widow, had come knocking on our little door just before bed. She had just lost her daughter- and son-in-law to a construction accident earlier that day. They were both drudges. And now she had to raise their three kids. She was far too old to work the way she would need to, to support the kids, and she was already living off charity from the Gray as it was.
Elsbeth had rallied the families in the neighborhood and within an hour, the old woman had offers to adopt from six different families. Including from several of Tomas’s Freeman Guards.
The children had new homes by the end of the day, and the situation had been handled with Elsbeth’s eminent and forceful practicality.
I nodded along with his story. It sounded like something they would do. Shelter and food for starving people? Yeah, I’d believe that.
He shook his head sadly for a moment. “Your parents make me think there might be something of worth in your pathetic pantheon after all, if it can inspire that kind of kindness. She’s a saint, your mother.” He glared at me for a moment. “And you’re worrying her sick being out here, all alone, at night scavenging. What’s wrong with you?!”
The dwarves’ change in demeanor was stark, and I almost laughed at how absurd it all sounded. It also made me believe him a little more.
“I came out here, hoping to scavenge the cores from the wolf corpses.” I sat by the fire next to him as the sun began to set in earnest. I was exhausted, but not nearly as bad as I had been after his rescue.
I trusted him enough to tell him about my family's troubles. Worst it would do is make the tenements gossip. Best outcome might be a bit of help. It was a gamble worth taking in my estimation. So,I told him about what was going on with my sister, and how my mother had been in a similar situation when she was younger. That my parents were struggling to find a good match for her, or barring that she’d have to join the gray priesthood.
“Well, the gray prayers ain’t so bad. But that’s a shit life if it’s not one you choose to take yourself. Your sister would be more than welcome among our clan, the least we can do for your family’s kindness. But there’s not much hope of starting a family there. Dwarves and humans don’t mix. Not in that way, anyway. Can’t really. Not that you need to know anything about that. But if it comes down to it, if she can’t force herself to choose either of those two things, we’d welcome her as a friend.”
“Thank you. I’ll tell my family when we get back. Now, about those cores?”
The dwarf smiled. “Was hoping you’d forget about those.”
“You can have the hide, and whatever else you can get off these creatures. I need those two, though.”
Gargon stared into the fire for a long moment. Then nodded. “One is basic, the other is primitive anyway. Sure, you can have them.” He tossed two cores, still covered in their pink membranes, at me and I caught them.
The one from the matriarch glowed slightly from inside the membrane, a soft blue and icy white light. The other emitted a steely gray light, but it wasn’t steady. It pulsed like a fire slowly dying.
“The second one there, the gray one?” The dwarf said, pointing at the pulsating gray core. “It’s only half-formed and primitive. Still useful, but not finished yet.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’ll help.”
“What are you planning on doing with those anyway, lad? No two cores, particularly a half-formed primitive, and a basic, can stand up to the world.”
“No. But they will help me get a little closer. I plan on making weapons with them.” The dwarves’ eyebrows went up. “That hatchet there? I made that a few days ago. My first attempt at anything like it. I was literally just messing around. Now that I know more, and I have access to more? I’m going to make weapons my father can use to make everyone else think twice before attacking me and my family.”
There was a long silent pause while the dwarf took in my statement. He looked troubled. “Let me give you a bit of advice, boy. Core weapons, even primitive ones, are difficult to use. No level zero has the will needed to do it. Far better to use them in other ways.”
“Such as?”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
He grinned. “I’m going to tell you something that your nobles will hate for me to say. Something that, if you repeat inside the walls of your city, you can and probably will be executed for. Do you understand?” I nodded. “Good. Use the primitive core, the half-formed one? Use it to get closer to your first level.”
“I don’t understand. How would I do that?”
The dwarf looked around for a moment, then nodded as if coming to a conclusion. “We’re safe enough for now. Here, sit legs crossed. Perfect, just like that. Take the core in your hands. Now, most people back in your home city know that cores can be used to gain power. They keep them in the membrane here, so they can crush them and do things like add them to food or drink. There is wisdom in that, because your body integrates the core slower and less traumatically. But that takes days, and can make clearing your meridians a bit more difficult later on. It sounds like you need power now, and you don’t have a lot of education. Yes?”
I nodded. Meridians had been a topic of conversation in several of the books I had read. But they were not a concern for someone who was just taking their first steps into power. “Alright. Well, this is a far superior method, but,” he shrugged. “It’s likely to hurt. A lot.”
I sighed and braced myself for the pain. “Let’s do it.”
“Good.” The dwarf reached down to the primitive half formed core, and removed the pink membrane with a flex of his fingers. The silver gray energy inside the clear crystal like ball swirled in enticing and interesting ways. “You already know how to connect your mana pool to things, yes?” I nodded. “Do you have basic mana channels made yet?” I shook my head. “Well, that’s to be expected. Sadly, that means you’ll lose a good chunk of the energy. Still, it’ll get you closer. Connect your mana pool to the core.”
I sent a mana tendril down and out of my fingers and out into the core. It connected almost instantly, and I felt the turmoil of the unbalanced but powerful energy inside. It wasn’t entirely unbalanced; it was pretty close to reaching equilibrium.
“Sense the lack of balance, and add your mana to it in a way that balances it out.”
I did as instructed. At first, I added a bit of mana to the already heavy side of the swirling energy, making it more unstable, but then I figured out what I was doing and corrected my mistake. When it was finally balanced, it seemed to hum with energy, as if it were a violin string that someone had finally found the correct note on.
“Now that your mana is connected to it, absorb the core.” I looked up at him skeptically. “It’s going to hurt. But it’ll be worth it. Trust me.”
I sighed and did as I was told. I began reabsorbing my mana. It was a slow process at first, but it sped up as I concentrated. When I finally got it moving, the core came with it, still swirling and flexing, bending and twisting, but in predictable, balanced ways.
It didn’t hurt at first. But when the core settled just behind my stomach in the center of my mana pool, I started growing hotter and hotter. Not like the fevers, but like someone was holding me over a fire.
“Here comes the pain, steady lad. You’ll get through it.”
My body exploded with awareness. I became aware of everything about my body, its temperature. Every inch of my skin gave raw, unrelenting amounts of input to my mind. My ears heard every sound, and no filters existed to prevent me from being overwhelmed. I felt my clothes. The mild itch I had been ignoring for weeks now exploded into what felt like one of the worst rashes I had ever experienced.
And that was just the start.
The fire inside burned hotter and hotter. Suddenly I had little rivulets of what felt like molten tar stream off my skin like sweat. I almost panicked, but the dwarf rested a hand on my shoulder.
“Stay calm. Those are the impurities in your body getting forced out. Stay calm, and let the process work.”
I kept my breathing under control, only through a force of will I had rarely had to use. I felt like each breath was like breathing furious fire, and expelling it felt like I should have seen flames escaping my mouth and nose.
Things kept getting worse until finally, blissfully, the black tar finished pouring out of my body, and the core’s mana calmed. The heat in my body slowly came back to normal, and the pain subsided. I looked at myself, and smelled myself, and it was more than I could handle.
The black sludge that had been expelled from my body, mixed with the smell of the death and decay around me, was too much. I hurled what little food I still had in my stomach all over the dwarf.
Rough hands turned me around and forced me to dry heave into the dirt. “Ah, that’s just great, isn’t it? Now I’ll need a bath too. Mother will demand it. Damn it, kid. You’re alright, take a few deep breaths and it’ll pass. You handled that like a champ. When I first went through it, I was screaming like a maniac. At least that’s what mother says, almost bit off my tongue.”
He hauled me to my feet a few seconds later, and my head swam for a moment before the world went right again. “You just sat there and gritted your teeth like a stone warden. Make sure you have someone look at those teeth boy, be sure you didn’t crack any of them.”
I nodded, and found that the world was a little brighter, and my body was a bit lighter than before. I felt healthier, faster, and my mind felt clearer.
“Now when you eat, your body will extract more nutrients and be better at not storing too much of anything bad for you.”
“Did I just evolve, or something?” I asked, confused about what had just happened. Am I a Pokemon now?
“Nah kid. You’re still the same bloke as you were before, your bodies just a bit healthier now. Cleaner, more efficient. That kind of thing. That sludge was just some of the impurities you’ve built up in your muscles. Gotta say, that’s quite a lot, actually. Probably from you being so sick and all. I’d say your physical foundation probably just reached near perfect, but you’re not there yet. The core will help your body keep itself clean and running more smoothly too, though not as much as a meridian will once you start cleaning those out.
“Now, when you get other cores, you’re going to be adding them to that one, not taking them in like you did here. You don’t want multiple uncompressed cores at a time, got it?” I nodded. I understood enough to know I had to just take the mana from any other cores I came across, for now. “The process should be a lot easier on you personally. You’ll get less and less out of primitive and common cores as you take in more of them and your mana condenses in on itself.”
“Mana condenses?”
“Yup, just like anything, it can become more dense given pressure. In this case, the pressure of more mana from another core.”
“But I produce mana. Won’t that condense it too?”
“Eh, don’t worry about condensing right now. You’re nowhere near needing to worry about that. I just started myself. Think of the core like a hand crank at a well. It’ll let you get more mana. But your mana pool is more like a bucket where you store the water. Or mana, in this case. It’s not exactly like that because your pool also makes its own mana. It all gets pretty complicated, kid.”
He wasn’t saying anything I wasn’t already aware of. Most of the info he had given me had either been spelled out in the texts I had read, or was hinted at, and I had guessed already. Except for mana condensing, and the black sludge stuff. Nothing seemed to talk about that, and I wasn’t sure exactly why. Maybe the people in this area think it’s taboo? I put it aside for now and continued listening.
“Just know that each core adds to your total mana capacity. But if you have an attuned core? Like, say one of ice or something, you can send mana through that core and attune the mana to that element without having to run it through a spell, or something first. That thing looked like a predator core. One that gave the creature more Life mana, which it used to enhance its body. Life mana is sometimes called chie, but you won’t hear that often around here. Not unless you run into someone from the far east. Here they just call it Life mana, and well, you’re going to need to be careful with it. It doesn’t like to interact with other kinds of mana easily.”
He looked at me, considering what he was about to say for a long moment. “Yeah, you’re not going to tell anyone. Look, you’re going to need to make mana channels just for your Life mana. Or else when you try to run life mana through your other channels, when you get around to making them, you’re going to be in a hell of a lot of pain. Got it?”
This was entirely new information, and I couldn’t help but just stare at him, hoping he’d divulge more information. Or at least give me some kind of context clue.
“Look, I’m no wizard. I’m just saying the stuff that was said to me when I was a kid. Cores are good, okay? Particularly those cores that make Life mana. The more you have of them, the closer you get to gaining a level.”
“What does a level do for me?”
“Oh no. I’m already in deep shit with your kingdom, just telling you what I have. You’re already near the mid copper stage already, about at the top of level zero to the locals. If you get there, gods forbid, the adventurers’ guild will be all over you, and they can explain it. I’ve taken in six cores in my life, kid, one of which was a complex core. And I’m just starting to get close to my second level. If that helps you figure it out.” He shrugged again. “For now, just focus on learning to use that mana to augment your body. Best thing you can do, really.”
“I’ve already learned to do that with some abilities. Like Dodge. Is it a similar process?”
The dwarf just stared at me like I was a monster. “Kid. You learned abilities? Already? Do you even have any meridians open?” I just stared at him. “No, of course not. You can’t be older than what, fifteen summers? And you’re just actively channeling ability spells through your body, with no channels even yet? Do you know how bloody bonkers that is, kid?”
“Twelve,” I smirked, and the color drained from the dwarves’ face.
“Right. You humans live short lives.” I wanted to take offense to that, but with the sheer shock he was experiencing, I let it go. Instead, I showed him so there was no doubt.
I moved the mana into my legs and jumped to one side. Half a second later, my feet dug into the soil, and two deep furrows four inches deep appeared as I skidded to a halt ten feet away.
“See?”
“Boy. You’re going to be a monster yourself one day.” The dwarf shook himself. “What am I saying? I just taught him how to properly absorb cores. It’s a good thing his family are friends of the clan, or I’d be strung up for giving one of our neighbors such a powerful asset.” He was talking to himself, like he had just given the neighboring country a battalion of Abrams tanks, workable invasion plans, and a tactical nuke.
He sat by the fire, dejected. “No, it’s not so bad. He’s a friend of the clan. But, an ability user, by the age of twelve?” He locked eyes with me. “Do you know any others, kid?”
“Nothing flashy like dodge. Just mana writing.” I lied. I showed him by using it on the ground to draw a small picture of him and me and the fire with nothing but my finger and the oils on my skin in the dirt. It disappeared a few seconds later. “The Dodge thing was a bit of a fluke, too. I’ve been pretty sick most of my life, and I was just looking for something to help me get around.” I lied again.
Some of the color came back to his face, and he calmed a bit. “Okay, that makes some sense, I suppose. Well, don’t show anyone that kid. Knowing abilities by your age is something only the most powerful noble families can accomplish.”
I didn’t think this guy knew exactly how any noble family operated. Heck, I barely understood how some of it worked myself. And my home kingdom didn’t feel like a particularly inviting place to foreigners.
“I understand,’’ I said solemnly. “But I want to use this core to help my dad somehow. He’s in danger far too often. His weapons can barely scratch something like that.” I pointed at the rotting carcass of the alpha wolf where the primitive predator core had come from. “Had he and his men been forced to come out to kill it without the knights, he would have lost a lot of men. And probably gotten himself killed.”
The dwarf nodded, and his beard got dangerously close to the fire. “I have an idea about that. But for now, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?” He reached a hand out as if asking for the core.
“What are you planning?”
“If I tell you, it might not work. Your human kingdom is pretty stingy with this kind of thing.” He touched the ax in my hand. “They don’t care about non-core magic items. They regard them as trash, no matter the quality of the work. It’s why the rune casters of my people so rarely trade weapons with you all. You lot don’t seem to have any clue as to the proper value of things when it comes to weapons and magic.”
I shook my head, confused. “What does that have to do with the price of tea in china?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“What?” He looked at me in even more confusion than I felt. “What is China? And what does the price of tea have to do with this conversation?”
I sat there, still drenched in my own bodies’ black filthy tar, trying to find a way forward with the conversation. “I uh. . . that’s kind of the point. It’s an expression. It means, “I don’t understand the connection between what you are saying and what the topic of the conversation is.”
“Oh. Why didn’t you just say that then? Humans are weird, always talking in circles. Well, at least you’re not elves. Damn knife ears always speak in riddles and their voices sound like they’re trying to sing you a lullaby every time they open their gab. Anyway, what I’m getting at is, I’m an apprentice rune smith. Gave it up for a bit a while back when I failed my journeymen test. Been trying to save up for another chance at it, working as a guard in my family’s caravan. But I’m good at it. Better than you, anyway. If you give me the core, I promise to help your father with it.”
“Time frame?” I demanded, and the dwarf smiled.
“I like a client who knows what questions to ask. Good, means you’re not a mark. My caravan leaves your little city in a week. I’ll have it for you before then. Deal?”
“And what do you want in return?” He looked taken aback for a moment.
“Kid. I was already in your family’s debt. Your mother and father are friends of my clan. And my clan is deep, deep in their debt. Years ago, they saved a caravan from starvation and getting frozen to death. So we owe a big debt.
“Everything until now has been repayment of that kindness. You,’’ he poked me in the chest. “You saved my life. I owe you something. Something big. Because of your parents, you’re already a Friend of the Clan so I can’t give you that. And since you’re doing something nice for another Friend of the Clan, helping them survive and all, me helping you with this won’t pay that debt entirely either. But I promise it’ll be good enough to try, whatever it is I come up with.”
One of the shorter primers in the library I had been tarring through like a madman the last few weeks was on foreign relations. It wasn’t very detailed, but when it discussed other races, it gave little tidbits about their society and their psychology. What it had to say about dwarves had been particularly interesting to me.
Dwarves didn’t think of the value of things the same way as humans did. The price of a rune carved knife was based on its quality, not on how much they can get for it. Value wasn’t based on speculation. Value was influenced by supply and demand, of course, but it was based in the innate quality of the item or service. Scarcity might make the price of bread go up. But bread would never lose its innate worth because of a flooded market. There was always a minimum, the innate value of the thing based on its usefulness, quality, and some inner sense that dwarves had about such things.
The text had said that this quirk of their psychology, and their long lives compared to the average human, made making long-term trade deals with dwarves extremely valuable. But on the converse, it meant short term speculative purchasing during a flooded market, or even negotiating for a better mutually beneficial arrangement, difficult. Supply and demand influenced prices for dwarves, they did not control it.
In essence, every item owned by a dwarf, including their life, was in economic terms, inelastic. I speculated that a dwarven society would have an extremely hard time creating something like a stock market where speculative trading could take place. They all had the long-term investors’ mindset. Short-term investment or acquisition was just not something they were interested in.
A dwarven stock market would be a very boring, very stable place.
Given the chaos back on Earth every few years when some dipshit with too much money shorted a stock people relied on, perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad.
“Deal.” I shook his hand by clasping his wrist. His palm wrapped around my arm as if it were a hammer’s haft. He was strong enough that if he wanted to, he could crush the bones in my arm to dust with just a squeeze.
And this guy had gotten taken by the wolves? I asked myself in awe as we released the gesture.
“Now. Take this stone, and scrape those hides. Then try to get some sleep, lad. I’ll stand watch.”
I took the stone and did as instructed. He had to explain exactly what I was supposed to do three times, but eventually I got it. It took me nearly an hour to go over the underside of the two monster hides with the rough stone. Scraping the meat and viscera off, and turning the leather hard so the morning sun when it came, could do its job.
When it was done, I laid on the warm stones and quickly fell asleep.