The feel of the early morning sunlight against my face is very welcome after the long hours down in the depths of the earth. Even with my new Earth-Shaping Skill and appreciation for the peace and calm of the earth, I feel relief when we finally break out into fresh air. I see a group of my Bound eating from a carcass on the other side of the clearing. Not all of them – I suspect that several are at the other entrance.
The alcaoris lingers in the entrance of the tunnel, having accompanied Bastet and me up to the surface. He seems as uncertain as me about how to broach the topic I know we need to discuss.
“Wait,” I say as he looks like he’s about to turn and disappear back down to his eggs, now tucked neatly away in the ‘nest’ I made for them. The alcaoris pauses.
For what? he asks, almost snappishly, but I suspect that it’s more due to him feeling uncertain than genuine anger.
“We need to talk about how our relationship is going to look going forwards,” I say firmly, though making sure not to let any hint of a threat come across either in my body language or the Bond.
What is there to discuss? You and yours stay out of my way; I shall not harm you, the alcaoris answered offhandedly.
“Sure, we could agree to something like that, though I would prefer to keep what we currently have: an agreement to not attack in the absence of provocation, no matter where the person was. Or we could even agree to mutual defence.”
If any creature goes near my eggs, they will swiftly be destroyed, the alcaoris answers fiercely. I do not need any other to defend me. He sounds slightly insulted at the insinuation.
“I’m sure,” I try to appease him. I actually wasn’t suggesting anything of the sort – it’s clear he can take care of himself. However, this situation reminds me of a very similar one all those weeks ago. “But you still need to eat and your eggs are left defenceless when you’re gone.”
Is that a threat? asks the alcaoris with a hiss, his lips lifting to show his jaws full of very sharp teeth, his wings mantling slightly on his back, as much as the tight tunnel allows, anyway.
“It’s not,” I tell him, outwardly calm, though internally tensing up, ready to react to an attack. “I’ve spent time making sure that your eggs are now bathed in as much Pure Energy as they need; I’m not going to turn around and try to do something nefarious to them now. I’m just suggesting that, if we have an agreement of mutual defence, then you could go hunting without worrying about leaving your eggs defenceless. And if we were having problems with an enemy, then we could call on you to help.” I shrug a little. “It’s up to you.”
The alcaoris hesitates, then settles a little, apparently deciding that I’m being honest. Which I am. Not that I would object to having three baby alcaorises as part of my band, but not at the price of intentionally making them orphans to do so. Plus, powerful or not for their stage, I have a lot of Bound at Tier one, a few at Tier two, and a friend at Tier three. Having an alliance with another Tier three beast can only be a good thing; better, perhaps, than Bonds with babies who would need to be nurtured for a long time before they’d become useful.
I will not be a weapon against any of your enemies, he says with suspicion. If we agree to this, I will agree only to defending your sleeping place, as you do my eggs.
“That’s fine,” I agree. Frankly, since I don’t currently have any enemies who I want to melt into nothing with acid, it’s more about having the agreement in place than anything else, making sure that this truce doesn’t just fall away. Maybe if this had been before dealing with the shaman, I would have pushed for a bit more, but the shaman is long gone.
Not sure how to activate the Alliance form of my Tame Bond, I focus on my desire to have an alliance with this creature and then say the word aloud.
“Alliance.”
Immediately something like the Tame trade window appears for both of us. The difference is that, instead of putting things in my side of the ‘trade window’ then passing it over to another, anything I put in my ‘trade window’ immediately appears in the other side’s window. It’s like an online document where both parties can edit the same text in real time.
I suddenly wonder whether I could use this Skill to make an alliance with more than two parties, and whether I could make an alliance between others where I am not one of the allying parties. It’s an interesting question.
For now, though, I just put in the two things we’ve agreed on: non-aggression in the absence of provocation, and mutual defence. I sense that I could probably agree on that right here and now, but I get the sense that it’s a little incomplete. After studying it a little, I realise why.
It’s practically a revisiting of the initial agreement with Kalanthia. Only, instead of making Oaths, I’m using my Alliance Skill to bind us to our commitments. But perhaps we could make things better this time around.
Last time, Kalanthia was able to attack me because she thought I was trying to Tame Lathani. She didn’t do more than give me a significant shock, but it certainly made me feel a bit unsafe for a time. Plus, when she did break the agreement, the event happening soon after I Bound Lathani, I wasn’t even aware of it until I saw that my Energy store was a bit higher than it should have been. Heck, I’m not even sure that it has broken – there’s never been any sort of record that it exists, so checking on it is impossible.
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I can see why Oaths aren’t used much in Nicholas’ world. However, maybe I can make this ‘Alliance’ be a bit more user-friendly.
Focussing on the first point, that of non-aggression in the absence of provocation, I specify that ‘aggression’ is any physical, magical, or verbal action which is either intended to cause harm or to provoke the other party to retaliate in equal or greater measure. I then add a quick modification that mutually agreed sparring doesn’t count.
Who thought that working in HR would help in a wilderness? I ask myself wryly. This activity certainly brings back memories of constructing and checking through contracts written by the company’s lawyers.
I continue adding in more detail, namely that if the contract does break, then both parties will receive an obvious notification, and that either party can end the contract but must give notice of one day to the other party. I also add that the contract covers all those who are reasonably considered under the authority of the party leader.
Getting into the spirit of it all, the alcaoris adds in some qualifications that entering the tunnel without his express permission counts as provocation, and that he would only intervene in a conflict within ten of his lengths of the other tunnel’s entrance. I have a feeling that he’s actually more interested in protecting the other entrance to his eggs’ nesting place, but that doesn’t bother me too much. I’ll still benefit.
I make an addendum to his interdiction on any entering his tunnel without his express permission to say that in the event of direct and provable threat to his eggs by something within the tunnel while he’s away, one or more of my party could enter to intervene.
He then throws it back at me to say that any damage done to his eggs in that event would be entirely taken out of our hides. I hesitate over that one, but finally add in a qualification that if the threat is far beyond our ability to cope with, we will not be expected to make a suicidal defence against it. He only agrees to that when I point out that, otherwise, I would expect him to do the same.
In the end, it takes a lot more time than I was expecting, and the sun is already starting to rise on the horizon before we’ve managed to come to an agreement which we’re both reasonably satisfied with. Not completely, but I’m used to that. A contract where one party is completely happy usually means someone is getting screwed somewhere. A bit of mutual screwing is often the best overall. And that’s a thought I’m not comfortable with having when a dragon is the other party of the mutual screwing.
The simple three line contract has turned into several paragraphs – and an actual visible window. I managed to find out how to do that, on my side at least, at the point when I was starting to struggle to keep everything in my head all at the same time. I don’t know how the alcaoris is doing it, but he seems to be managing somehow.
Accepting the Alliance turns out to be pretty simple: just focussing on my agreement with the entirety of the contract. Opening up my status screen, I see that there’s now another tab alongside Status screen, Notifications, Bound status, and Notes. Unsurprisingly, it’s called ‘Alliances’ and there’s currently only one entry.
Alliance type
Parties
Terms
Status
Mutual Alliance
‘Alcaoris’, Markus Luke Wolfe
- Non-aggression pact
- Mutual defence
Active - notification of changes
I mentally select ‘terms’ and the screen in front of my eyes fills with the more detailed list of terms which the alcaoris and I came up with together. Dismissing the screen entirely, I’m satisfied with the night’s work. My design for the eggs seems to have worked perfectly, even if I had to deepen it a bit to make sure the eggs were fully covered. And now, I’ve got a slightly more solid alliance with the powerful dragon-like alcaoris.
Though seeing the entries in the ‘Parties’ column does remind me of something else.
“Do you have a name? I can’t keep calling you by your species all the time.” The draconic creature tilts his head to one side.
Not as such…though my kin call me Ravenous, for how my magic eats away at anything it touches.
“Alright, do you mind if I call you Rav? Or Raven? Ravenous is a bit…long.” As well as sounding like either one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse or a teenager’s idea of a cool gaming handle.
Why do you wish to call me something other than my given name? Fortunately, the alcaoris doesn’t sound annoyed, just confused.
“It’s…just something I do. Ask any of my companions.” Actually, I haven’t done it to Kalanthia or Lathani. Hmm, maybe I should see if either of them would mind a nickname. Then again, I’ve been calling them by their full names for so long that it would probably feel weird.
Do as you wish. I care little, the alcaoris dismissed. That tempts the most mischievous part of me to give him some really stupid name, but in the end I decide on Raven. And no, it’s not at all because his dark green scales, scary magic, and aloof attitude remind me of a powerful emo super-heroine I used to enjoy watching in action when I was a teenager.
“Alright, well I’m off. Let me know if you need me – the Bond should allow you to send a sense of urgency to me even at some distance.” Actually, would it? That was tested with River’s Dominate Bond, not a Tame one, let alone Alliance. “Well, if you can’t, just bellow for me – I’m sure one of us will hear you.”
The alcaoris, Raven, doesn’t deign to answer, simply twisting sinuously along his length to turn around. His tail is the last of him to disappear, its slim, pointed tip vanishing into the darkness.
“Alright,” I say again to Bastet, half amused, partly concerned, and just a little offended, though I push both of the last away. “Let’s go gather the rest of the party. I want to see what’s happened at the other end of the tunnel.”
You need to sleep, the raptorcat tells me severely.
“So do you,” I point out, amused.
I’ll be fine for a few hours yet, she answers dismissively.
“And so will I,” I tell her. “I’ve gone longer than this without sleep and gone into a fight at the end of it. I want to go and investigate the tunnel before something else beats us to it – or those vine-stranglers decide to push their luck.”
The trap trees, she sniffs in disgust. I still don’t understand why you decided to leave some of them alive.
“Allies can come in mysterious places,” I point out to her, sending a picture of Raven down the Bond to support my argument.
So can enemies, warns Bastet more than a little ominously.
“Then let’s hope for more of the former than the latter,” I answer cheerily.