One does not simply rush into adventure.
Well, I suppose you still could. It would be mad, but possible. Throw everything to the wind and just start walking. Ulgrin wasn’t quite insane enough to do that, but he still wished things wouldn’t take so long.
But he had to do things properly.
Arranging transportation, purchasing supplies and equipment, studying maps and the notes his grandfather had left behind. Those things were time consuming and it wasn’t until a week had passed that he was finally about to leave. The first of Granite had come and gone, marking spring as truly here.
Ulgrin’s journey would take him into the underground tunnels that crisscrossed the Skyhammer range. Seawater flooded them, creating natural channels and passageways. With the right kind of navigator one could sail a boat from one edge of the continent to the other. Provided you didn’t get lost it was one of the main methods of shipping for those looking to pass by.
The Dwarven Strait connected directly to the Channel of the Star, making it a prominent economic highway. At the center of it all were the Mithral Halls of Vunverdern. The richest of all cities in the Stoneborn Collective, and its largest metropolis. Entirely underground and connecting to all the other settlements across the nation.
His first stop would be there to gather some more equipment not available here. Ulgrin needed specialized equipment that his home just didn’t produce.
Additionally, perhaps he would find companions there. Mercenaries would no doubt flock to such a place. I’m not as stupid as to think I can do this by myself, he mused.
Descending into the earth he cast a glance over his shoulder. His family watched him go, pride in their eyes and tears on their beards. “Farewell, everyone. I’ll return one day. But for now…” He continued moving downwards and into the depths. A tunnel had been dug to the closest connection so it wasn’t a long walk.
Merchants came and went through this way seeking the city’s fine woolen products so it was lively. A large dock of sorts lit by magelights. The sound of rushing water filled the air and he could see dark waters surging past. The boats fastened nearby were all sleek; smooth. Without a need for sails they had designed them to be as unobtrusive as possible in the tunnels.
You didn’t want to capsize down there by hitting a stalactite. It wasn’t pretty.
Waiting for him was a grizzled badgerkin. Beastfolk were as varied as they were prolific. Etymology wasn’t Ulgrin’s strong suit, but he had read long ago that there were far too many words for their kind. So much so that the normally unorganized beastfolk all had come together to decide upon a more simple system. Now it was much easier to declare one in the common tongue.
Dunvi still kept some of the old worlds, but it was much easier to use it this way.
Fur a stark black and white in a spiraling pattern, the badgerkin gave him a grunt. Their kind were tall but hunched over, making them not particularly larger than Tallmen. “You’re on time. Good, good. Last load of cargo is being loaded up now.” He held out a large paw that dwarfed Ulgrin’s own hand. “I am Seeks-Shelter-Below-Stone.” Or at least that was what he presumed the translation was. “You may call me Captain Seeks.”
“Of course,” Ulgrin replied. “Glad to be aboard. I understand that I’m to help pay for my trip by doing maintenance on your boat’s runes?”
Seeks nodded. “Yes. Do a good job and you’ll have your deposit back. The rules for staying aboard are as follows; never go above decks when the red lanterns are lit. You will die. Keep your voice quiet, things lurk in the waters. If you find a breach in the hull immediately tell a crewmate. Other than that? Common sense, Dunvi.”
“I can do common sense.” He’d heard way too many tales of people knocked overboard; never to be seen again. Such was a cruel fate, especially for a dwarf. Only those who could breathe underwater could survive the miles-long trip to land, and even then it was rare for survivors to be found. Too many monsters made the waters their home.
Theoretically you could be swept by the currents into an underground cavern, but that was incredibly rare. Best not to try it.
Watching laborers load crates and boxes onto large rectangular shaped freighters took only an hour or so. Ulgrin passed the time by reading more of his new spellbook.
So far he’d been smashing his pick against the stone trying to figure out some of the more complexities of spellcasting. Most people practiced ‘internal’ magic. It utilized your own aetheric reserves to produce effects of either personal use or limited effect. One could conjure a flame or increase their own strength.
Warriors of all kinds specialized in such things, allowing them to perform feats far beyond mortal ken. Even a limited pool of mana could go far if you practiced long enough. At a certain point these spells would be efficient and second nature.
Wizards like him worked on external magic. Manipulating both the weave and other sources of magic to their benefit.
Magic was harder to work the farther you got away from it being ‘yours’. Sure one could tap into the incredible currents of magical ley lines beneath their feet but that didn’t mean frak when you couldn’t manipulate it. His grandfather had taught him that most mages either had to subsume external magic or envelop it with their own.
That or simply skip the middle-dwarf by drawing it to you. Channeling magic into oneself was an easy way to get more power but one could only do it so much. At a baseline the natural aether was calm and easy to absorb but throw in a bunch of mages throwing around spells? It got very excited.
You didn’t want excited mana running through your soul. That had a tendency to ruin your concentration, damage your mind and body, and sometimes explode people. Or so the spellbook read.
Right now he was working on figuring out how a bolt of magic worked. In theory it required you only create a projectile in hand and propel it magically, but that was difficult. Magic at rest tended to stay at rest, but magic in motion was difficult to control. Conjuring flame and expecting it to hold still while you prepare to send it shooting in only one direction?
Difficult to say the least.
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Ulgrin stopped his practice as a whistle sounded. Laborers began boarding and he could see several other travelers or simple merchants getting on as well. Captain Seeks worked his crew like a well oiled mechanism and everything was secured and tied down.
The clearance in some of the tunnels was only a few feet at most in places so it was important to ensure nothing would get smashed into the stone.
Stepping aboard, Ulgrin was led below decks and to a small chamber. Barely enough room for a bunk and chest, but it was private.
The trip would take three days. While the distance on foot was technically much shorter one couldn’t simply go in a straight line. The tunnels below were a network and navigating it required taking criss-crossing paths. Combined with the fact that the tunnels occasionally collapsed? Three days was a blessing.
Definitely faster than trying to cross the mountains on foot.
Taking a seat on the bed Ulgrin pondered doing more practice. Thankfully common sense kicked in as conjuring flame on a wooden boat did not seem a safe idea.
Well, he did have a job to do.
From what the sailors told him this ship was called The Whirligig and it was of above average size. Three decks if you counted the above-one. Ulgrin’s quarters were at the bottom and he learned the second was mainly for storage and a mess hall. At the back of the ship was its main method of transportation.
Arriving at the large chamber, he spied a large wheel sticking halfway out the back of the ship. Seven spokes stuck out of the wheel, wide and flat. A fist-sized chunk of amber had been embedded into a nearby dynamo.
With a moment of study Ulgrin realized it used magical power to spin. Magic goes in, kinetic energy spins the wheel when commanded. A simple mechanism. What was more interesting was the clockwork design that allowed the wheel itself to shift some forty-five degrees to either side. Combined with a rudder, it allowed for excellent maneuverability.
Bit of an aether-hog, Ulgrin admitted. It didn’t seem like a very efficient design, but he supposed it didn’t see much use. Only when you needed to switch tunnels immediately, as otherwise the river current did its job for them.
Kneeling down and examining it, he could see the runic designs in detail. Force and momentum were its primary expressions.
Rune magic was the art of applying your will upon the world. It was a mixture between internal and external magic, combining both aspects into one. You altered the world by imposing yourself upon it. Materials served as a vessel for mana, lines and indentations formed barriers and focal points.
Geometric symbols worked the best. They were simple, straightforward, and easy to make. Once you advanced past that however things got complicated and more intent based. Different runic systems were like a language, accomplishing the same effects despite being unique.
Scanning the designs, he noticed a build-up of rust on the steel carvings. Being in a moisture filled environment had only accelerated the decay of these runes. Runes didn’t last forever, even with repeated ‘refillings’. Eventually the magical energy being channeled through the material would cause it to decay.
Drawing a small brush from his satchel Ulgrin began to scrub the metal clean. Maintenance would keep it going for a year or two more. Eventually it’d need replacing, though. Grandfather had theorized that the day they found a runic design that didn’t break would be the day their kind would be out of a job.
Not this day, though. When was the last time they cleaned this off? It can’t cost that much to get a runecrafter to come down here. He wondered, metal bristles quickly clearing patches that threatened to destabilize its design.
Turning his attention to the gears Ulgrin examined them for any faults. One had a small chip but nothing serious. He wrote down his examinations and turned to the rest.
Apart from that the system seemed to be working well. Under the watchful eye of the helmsman he turned it on and watched as the wheel began to spin. Seemed to be good. “Well, I don’t see any problems. I’ll examine the hull’s reinforcements tomorrow, is lunch available yet?”
Nodding, the Tallman in charge of navigation gave a thumbs up. “Sure, it’s about time.” Tallmen were, naturally, tall. They called themselves ‘humans’ after the draconic word ‘humanoid’. Strange decision to take your name from a different species. Despite being several heads taller, humans lacked the stout builds necessary to truly leverage their size. Not like ogrekind or jotuns. Still, they were strong and enduring folk. Good natured, and could be found just about anywhere.
Following him, Ulgrin wandered into the mess hall. Just a simple rectangular chamber with benches and tables, all bolted down. Ships necessitated everything be sealed in containers or simply nailed into the hull.
Already he found crewmen eating and drinking their breaks away. In the Collective it was a requirement for there to be ample alcohol. Guilds had been burned to the ground for not giving their workers adequate drinking opportunities. Dunvi especially required such things. Contrary to popular belief it was a biological mechanism that aided in dealing with toxic metals their environments produced.
Alcohol acted as a catalyst that broke down such things and allowed his kind to live as well as they did underground. It aided in poisons and venoms too.
It didn’t hurt that alcohol tasted good and made you drunk. That was a plus side.
From what he had read the average dwarf drank their body weight in alcohol every month give or take. It was one of the biggest industries in the Collective. Privately Ulgrin thought those estimations to be rather conservative.
Not that they’re required to give their workers the best quality stuff. Ulgrin mused as he accepted a so-so quality mug and plate of food. Being on such short routes at least meant they could make fresh food rather than relying on rations. A simple fare of roasted meat and sliced potatoes was filling enough. Rock and sea salt were common here, too.
Chowing down, Ulgrin chatted with the crew. They told him the route had been quiet as of late which was good. They made this circuit every two weeks or so, a steady stream of income.
He heard the usual tales of river-monsters and ghost vessels. Always a fun topic amongst their trade.
“So they say the pirate ship of Bloodbrow went down in these waters. Finally chased down by the Deep Guard, their end was not a kind one.” A sailor said, swaying with the movement of the ship and not a small amount of ale. “Chased through the tunnels, their vessel rammed repeatedly by a mithral-plated ship, the Lance. Brought down in a nearby cavern and crashed against the shores.”
The nearby dwarves nodded sagely. The Deep Guard were some of the most respected and feared fighters serving the Collective. They whet their blades on the blood of aberrations and the darkest creatures down below.
She continued, fire in her eyes. “But the crew of Captain Bloodbrow’s ship did not falter yet. They survived the crash and retreated into the tunnels. Followed by spears and hemmed in they ventured into uncharted territory. But they did not find salvation. They found a creature waiting for them. Something big, something dangerous. A fearsome Teltek Hive Mother.”
Telteks were one of the most feared creatures from down below. Not quite insectoid, not quite arachnid either. A slimy, chitinous creature whose acidic maws could melt through steel given enough bites. Twelve legs and two forearms shaped like scythes. Multiplied like crazy.
“But even Bloodbrow knew a foe that would kill both of them given the chance. A truce was formed, and together they battled the beast and its brood.” The sailor paused for effect, going on to describe a fierce fight with almost as much skill as a bard.
“The battle was long, and blood spilled. The captain of the Guard fought side by side and a battle bond formed. The only legs left standing were those who possessed two. Bloodbrow knew then that he was at their mercy, injured as he was. But the Guard Captain decided this was not the day they would be caught. So the first Pact of The Depths was signed.”
Most knew of the Pact, an agreement most criminals would take in order to avoid the hangman’s rope. Fight the dark denizens of the deep and you kept your neck. It wasn’t the best choice, but better to die fighting than at the hands of an executioner. Honorable.
Ulgrin paused briefly to withdraw his map of the local tunnel network. “You said it was in this area?”
“So they say,” she replied, the catfolk woman shrugging and fluffy ears twitching. “Just repeating what I’ve heard. A hundred years ago, though. Not exactly the most recent of stories.”
Looking at the map he saw that there were indeed many caverns located in this stretch, jutting off of the tunnels. Worryingly, he’d heard that recent tectonic activity had caused a lot of problems for the miners in Dun’kagoth. New passages opening and others closing.
Things had changed in a century, though. The original battle site was probably buried and long gone.
Still, a tingle down the back of his spine had Ulgrin send a hand to the warhammer at his side. Rubbing its square head and curved spike brought no small amount of comfort. “Let us hope what was sealed that day remains sealed. A peaceful trip.” Or so I hope.
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Chapter three is done! Magic in this setting is a fairly common thing. Even your average farmer uses it in their daily lives. Training allows one to go beyond the normal limitations but most people lack the education and time to do so.
Lexicon of Words and Terms Used:
Vunverdern - The capital city of the Stoneborn Collective. Acts as a hub metropolis of sorts and possesses one of the few mithral mines.
Beastfolk - A wide umbrella term for people who possess animalistic traits. They generally are covered in fur, scales, or feathers.
Aether - The term used for the ambient magic in the environment. Usually termed as a 'weave' or 'current'.
Deep Guard - Elite forces of the Collective. Their strongest soldiers keep everything down below from surfacing and wreaking havoc. Well respected.