Journal Entry #18
The witch finally gave me my first magic lesson today. Maybe she caught me talking to one of the military recruiters?
Regardless, she had me follow her outside the fortress late at night and into a cave. Once we sat down and confirmed that there was no one present to overhear us, she pulled out four leather pouches, and asked me if I knew what they contained. I made a few guesses, but she told me to stop and only answer when I knew for sure.
We ignored the bags as she explained the basics of how mana worked, and how us humans and orcs were at such a disadvantage. Not only did we have a quarter of the lifespan of a dwarf or elf, but the magical style we were most suited for was body reinforcement, hence why her companion could toss boulders at some of the monsters we’d been hunting.
She told me it wasn’t a hard rule though. A smart and perceptive person could still learn the other styles.
We spent many hours in that cave, peering through the darkness and isolating the sounds of animals as they entered and left. Before we exited, she pointed down at the bags, and asked if I knew what was in them.
I didn’t know.
---
Arc
Travis, you moron! Why would you invoke the wrath of the minor god Phymur? You know for a fact that gods are real.
I helplessly watch as a mutant catfish the size of a gods and God damned whale headbutts the underside of the ship and violently shakes everyone onboard.
Well… not everyone. Reidar, steady as an oak, manages to grab onto Travis before he can potentially get thrown overboard. The two remain standing, despite the ship getting turned into a sketchy carnival ride, then get a clear view of the mudfish grappler sending up its whiskers/tentacles to grab onto the railing and start tugging.
--Mudfish Grappler, a greater varmint (yes, that’s right, it’s only considered a varmint). This monster is often mistaken for a behemoth, mainly due to its immense bulk and impressive regeneration speed, but it’s still just a single organism only capable of using body reinforcement. Hunter logs say they can wait at the bottom of muddy lakes for months on end, only surfacing to attack ships by latching onto them with their mutated feelers and dragging any unsuspecting sailors into its gullet. It’s highly resistant to blunt and piercing weapons but will tire quickly in battle if unable utilize its secondary lungs to take in more air.--
The ship begins teeter-tottering, greatly upping the difficulty of everyone trying to stand, including Spartan Captain Aguk as he shouts new orders, “Mages, move to the aft deck and target the main body. Spartans, knights, cut those tentacles!”
Easier said than done, half the fighters are ass over teakettle getting tangled up by the grappler, the other half fully focused on extricating the mages from the main deck, and even the nimble commandos and sailors are stuck clinging to life. Reidar oddly seems to be the only one immune to the thrashing.
Wait… why is he immune? I take closer notice of his feet, then get my answer when I see his boots glowing green with an enchantment.
Ah, that makes sense. [Earth Cleat] is a spell, why not a Wood Mana version?
Reidar twists his head from the left towards the tentacles attempting to pull the fighters overboard, then to the right towards Travis, clearly unsure of what to do, “Travis, can you make it to the aft deck alone?”
They hold steady as the grappler tugs extra hard once more, and Travis gauges his odds of crossing the ship, “Umm… if you can get me to the opposite rail, I think I can make it.”
Reidar nods, practically carries/throws Travis away from the monster, then turns to face the growing number of tentacles attempting to rip off a chunk of ship. Handaxe now in hand, he dances through the mass of smaller tendrils trying to snag him, then chops off one wrapping itself around Lancel’s leg.
The knight shakes the dead limb off his leg, flips over onto all fours to retrieve his spear, then tries to thank Reidar, but the spartan is already busy saving the other fighters. Taking a couple of deep breaths to calm his fear, he tries to stand, but unfortunately does so right before the mudfish grappler raises its bulbous head out of the water and spits up a tide of muddy water onto the deck.
Not catching a break, Lancel slips on the now well-lubricated deck and crashes into the rail, inducing a loud grunt of pain and a clear look of disgust from swallowing down his own vomit.
Okay, there’s got to be something I can do to help… Think… Think…
Inspiration strikes as I see the Water and Earth Mana in the muddy water sloshing around. I crank up the mana in my sword to gather as much mana as possible, then cast it off while Travis stumbles towards the stairs. Keeping things simple (and explainable in case I get caught), I shape the Earth Mana into dozens of zig-zagging directionless lines, forming tread marks on the deck, but leaving gaps for directional Water Mana lines to weave through and pull the excess water back into the lake.
It seems to do the trick, the non-fighters can at least crawl away from the edge now, despite the ship almost tilting below the water on the right. Hopefully it’s not too little too late, because with the huge number of whiskers/tentacles of the mudfish grappler already latched onto the rail, including two larger ones as thick as the ship’s mast wriggling their way towards the… mast. Fuck!
The ship captain, who’d managed to hang onto the wheel like a badass throughout this fight notices the threat, “Don’t let it take hold of the mast! It’ll tip us right over.”
Springing into action, Lancel punctures the nearest large tentacle with a half-dozen stabs in quick succession but fails to get even a cry of pain from the monster as it tries to shove Lancel aside. Gritting his teeth, Lancel tries to think of an alternate plan of action, but only ends up swearing and hopping back when he sees Galehaut reaching for his two-handed sword.
The hinges on the modified scabbard swing open like a safe to fully expose the sword inside, allowing the goliath to grasp it with both hands and immediately step his foot onto the rail for balance, and ramp up the mana in both his body and blade to attack. The massive zweihänder swings down, cutting deep into the tentacle and seeping the collected Ice Mana into the open wound, not only preventing it from regenerating, but snapping off the remainder as it shatters.
Heaving heavily from the overexertion, Galehaut fails to move in time when the screaming monster flails the damaged limb at him, smashing his head into the floor, and making me mentally sigh in relief that his helmet was on. He’s definitely concussed though, but seems to at least be present enough to point to the second tentacle behind Lancel. Lancel spins around to see the tentacle Captain Aguk trying to chop with his handaxe, but between it wiggling extra hard to shake off the spartan and other tendrils snagging the spartan’s feet, the half-orc fails to stop the tentacle as it begins wrapping around the mast.
Eyeing the still partially severed portion out of reach, Lancel swears once more as he drops his spear and draws his shortsword. He crouches down, concentrating on his internal mana so it can match one of the preset frequencies in his blade, completing the screaming [Chaos Edge] inscription/enchantment, then leaps up to cleanly slash through the tentacle as if the thing was made of Jello.
Lancel’s concentration on maintaining the inscription fails immediately, but that’s probably for the best, given that he ends up tumbling towards Captain Aguk. The half-orc catches him before he goes overboard and gives the Packer a friendly slap on the arm.
“Good hustle Hopkins.” The spartan then speaks over the battalion’s channel, “Volmaegar, are you going to fire that cannon sometime today?”
“Can’t get an angle captain, its head’s barely poppin’ up. Mages aren’t havin’ much luck either.”
That’s an understatement, most of the mages only recently clambered onto the aft deck, and their spell options aren’t really suited for the task. [Fire Bolts] inflict some damage to the monster’s head, but without a direct line of sight due to the bad angle, the need to secure themselves to the railing, and the creature constantly submerging to snuff out the flames and regenerate; the twin Steam Mages and Seleyna aren’t making any lasting progress.
Not able to contribute, Drozuk and Treblana are hunkering down near the back by a trough of sand used for spell practice, each using a free hand to secure Mattius as he concentrates on a spell. I’m not exactly sure what he’s making… some kind of spiky polyhedron made of sandstone?
Nevertheless, my focus is drawn to Vesril as he uses his natural elven talent for spell casting. Effortlessly crafting three [Frost Bolts] a full horse-length away from the ship, and without needing to wave his hands around to connect somatically with the spells, he has them fly into the mudfish grappler’s nose, penetrating much deeper thanks to the more potent hybrid mana, but it only causes the monster to finally let go of the ship and submerge.
A few agonizingly long seconds pass by, my focus now hovering over Travis in case he opens his big mouth again, but instead of fleeing, the monster decides to throw a temper tantrum and begins head-butting the ship all over again.
“Uh-oh, I think we might have made it mad!” Thaddeus teases his twin brother. “Think it’ll give up?”
Ship Captain Sampson, still a barnacle on the steering wheel, barks a manic laugh, “Nah, we’re too tasty of a treat, and if my eyes haven’t failed me, it hasn’t even managed a proper nibble on us yet to quell its rumbling belly.” Another body slam rattles the ship, and the old man speaks into his helmet, “Captain Aguk, I can steer him into the shallows, but that fish might get smart and hit the rudder.”
“Hold position. All fighters, prepare harpoons; mages, focus on forcing the monster to surface.”
“Great…” Zaccheus mutters, “How are we supposed to do that?”
Travis strums the side of his leg in thought, then lights up with an idea, “The gills on that monster can only sustain it while resting at the bottom of the lake and I don’t think regenerate as fast. If we just wait for it to exhaust itself or damage the gills, it should come up for air long enough to let us kill it.”
Another bone-shattering shake causes the mages to stumble or brace themselves, earning another groan from Zaccheus, “Will the ship even last that long?”
“I’ve got something that might work.” Mattius calls out, pointing to his spiky basketball, “Anyone else not finish their last MRE?”
---
Now armed with a plan, the kids on the aft deck spread out while Mattius conjures the finishing touches on his spell. He drops the half-eaten MREs into the hollow center, then cranks up his internal Air Mana so he can compress as much air as possible into the magical depth-charge before capping it off with a stone spike.
“Done.” Mattius squeaks out, despite looking like he’s suffering the world’s worst migraine.
Drozuk waits for the ship to get rocked once more, then gently picks up the [Shrapnel Burst] spell with both hands and tosses it over. It quickly begins to sink, and for a long moment I thought maybe the monster hadn’t noticed, but it manages to sense the dense mass of mana. Tentacles stretch out to ensnare its meal, then shoves it into its mouth to bite down, breaking one of the spikes and signaling Mattius to trigger the spell.
An explosion of compressed air and shrapnel tears into the monster’s throat, damaging the unprotected innards and… yes! Makes it burp up its held air and possibly even damaging the gills. Howling in pain, the mudfish grappler rises to the surface of the water only a few feet off starboard, opening it up for the soldiers on the deck to start throwing harpoons.
Thaddeus, already leaning over the rail on that side with Seleyna, launches a [Fire Bolt] as the princess draws an arrow from the quiver on her back and turns to an approaching Travis.
“Hold my feet!”
Barely giving the elementalist enough time to react, Seleyna leaps on top the rail, then extends her right foot over the edge to brace against the hull of the ship microseconds after Travis grabs her left ankle to give herself a better angle. Her gathered Fire mana then flows down her arms as she takes aim, molding around the wooden arrow into a somewhat familiar looking pattern. My connection with Travis reacts, letting me watch through his eyes as the arrow turns black… then red hot… then into a blazing white before releasing.
The enchanted arrow flies into the monster’s eye, burning, blistering, and boiling the soft flesh as it carves deep into the skull. Screams of agony erupt from the creature, and as more and more harpoons pierce its flesh, the horrid sound finally ceases when the limp corpse sinks into the depths.
My link with Travis fades as a chorus of cheers sing out. He unfortunately is a bit too distracted to join in, given that Seleyna is hanging off the edge of the boat.
Still breathing heavily from exertion and a sudden dumping of battle duress, Seleyna gasps for air a few times before reaching a hand out, “Okay… pull me back on board.”
An alert Thaddeus aids Travis as the two boys manage to get Seleyna standing on the rail, but her attempt at balance fails when stepping down, resulting in her and Travis tipping over and falling flat on the deck. Travis groans from taking the full blunt force, seemingly ignorant of their faces being only inches apart.
“Sorry,” Seleyna hazards a smile, “put too much into that arrow enchantment. Legs cramped up.”
Travis sighs, then returns one of his own, “That’s alright, maybe next time—”
“Princess!” Captain Adaline rushes up the steps, rips Seleyna away from the pair’s meet-cute, and holds her up like a precious doll, “Are you alright?”
“Yes… just exhausted. No pain, but I am a bit stiff.” She witnesses everyone staring at her, “Can you put me down? I don’t think I’ve fully entered Stage Two Mana Sickness.”
The Royal Knight lets out a sigh of relief as she follows the order, “Thank the gods, I’ll requisition an extra MRE for you.”
Seleyna holds up her hands, completely forgetting that Travis is still lying on the floor, and almost steps on him as she backs away, “No! No, that’s not necessary! I don’t need any special treatment.”
---
Reidar
Gull Lake - Warden’s Hammer Infirmary
ETA to Littlerock Fortress - < 2 Hours
Reidar placed his hand on the injured corpsman, wishing that he knew Travis’ secret ability to calm someone with a single shoulder pat. Abner, the Lakelander who had his hand severed, was doing well (all things considered), but he was about to have a difficult choice made for him.
“We have two options.” Knight Lieutenant Medic Karianne Bjornstad stated to Staff Sergeant Julien. “Option one, is the safest, we sew him up as is, then fit him for a prosthetic once we return to the capital. The cut was clean and low on the forearm, so he’ll retain quite a bit of mobility and will be eligible for frontline operations once he’s completed therapy.”
Julien nodded, “I take it option two is riskier?”
“Yes. Spartan Reidar has offered to attempt mana-assisted surgery.” She paused to carefully choose her next words, “But he hasn’t been certified to operate on non-mana users without receiving permission. Using mana to heal a commoner comes with many risks, including atrophy, cancer, advanced mana sickness, and death. The process can quickly overtax a patient if the surgeon isn’t fully trained and even if successful, there are long term effects that can occur.”
“I see…” Julien released a tired sigh, “Has Abner stated his preference?”
“He’s agreed to the surgery. However, given the sudden trauma and loss of blood, he’s susceptible to making rash decisions, and may not be taking the dangers fully into account.”
Reidar felt Abner tremble under his palm and looked down to see the tear drenched face. The two locked eyes while the lieutenant provided more details, allowing Reidar to see the naked fear inside the corpsman’s soul. The intimate connection eventually made the spartan feel uneasy, and he needed to look away, but it ironically seemed to do the trick in calming the patient.
“You’re scared too?”
“Yes. I got to observe and even assist a major medic when she performed field surgery on soldiers during the last Spring Flood, but it would put my mind at ease to have her here supervising.”
The Lakelander smirked, “It would put mine at ease too…” He rolled his head back to stare at the ceiling, “Wouldn’t be so bad if it was my left… there was a hunter that used to patrol around my village… had a fake hand with a hidden blade that would stab monsters when he punched them… Think I could get one of those? That’d be sturdy…”
“Reidar,” Karianne interrupted, “we’ve been cleared to operate.” She placed a hand on a surprised Abner, “Blessed Ahkazriel, minor god of healing, and child of Apheros. Guide our hands as we tie together the broken flesh and invigorate new growth.” The lieutenant looked to Reidar, “Let’s get started.”
Reidar nodded in agreement, then decided to reach for his idol to Apheros and make a quick prayer of his own.
Great timing bud! No one’s looking, and I got Ahkazriel on the other root with some advice. First, keep your Wood Mana threads as narrow as possible, and apply fresh Mortymer brand nutrient gel each time you wipe away the puss. Second, have your assistant do what she can to target and ramp up the Fire Mana in your patient’s bones and stomach to promote more blood creation. And third, only prioritize connecting the bone enough to secure the hand in place, then focus on the blood vessels to prevent gangrene. After that, you’ll be over the major hurdle, so just monitor for signs of Stage 2 Mana Sickness as you proceed to repair the other tissues and take breaks for the mana to discharge if he starts showing symptoms.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Reidar felt some of his stress dissipate; none of the advice he just heard was new information. So maybe he was more prepared than he gave himself credit?
Then again, he had an optimal scenario before him. The cut was very clean (with minimal loss of flesh), his constant use of the technique that paladin taught him had improved his fine motor control with Wood Mana greatly, Abner was in good health and well fed, and most importantly, he’d gotten to closely observe dozens of much more complicated surgeries during the Spring Flood.
‘I’m truly fortunate to have trained with Major Medic Amabilis Sartre. I certainly wouldn’t have had the confidence to even offer to try otherwise.’
I’m glad you think so. I know you weren’t happy about missing out on the fighting, but I didn’t want you to miss out on the opportunity.
Reidar paused as he was about to return his idol, ‘Wait, you intervened to have me assigned to her? But… that was before I…’
Reidar, ever since your heartbroken father dropped you off at the guard barracks in Lakewell, I’ve felt a connection to you. I’ve been nudging things into reality ever since. Ever wondered why your Wood Affinity was so strong despite training as a spartan?
The spartan was flabbergasted. Ever since he was a… Wait, Lakewell? The fortress Travis grew up nearby?
His river of thought got interrupted by a hand grasping his shoulder, “Reidar, if you’re having second thoughts, we can still cancel the procedure.”
Reidar shook to head to bring him back to the present, “No, let’s proceed.”
---
Travis
Gulltail River - Warden’s Hammer Storage Bay
ETA to Littlerock Fortress - < 1 Hour
“The trick is to make your body language as readable as possible.” I spoke to Private Tomas as I demonstrated the technique my dad taught me. It was a bit difficult given the tight quarters, but I did what I could to mimic an oak tree, keeping my posture strong and flexible. My hand then reached out to steady the trembling shoulder of the horse, breathing steadily while my fingers caressed the tense muscles.
5751054’s neighbor began to calm, and after a few minutes, eventually spit out the book they had stolen from the corpsman assigned to their care. A light chuffing could be heard from my horse, but that only earned a stink eye from me.
“Our ship nearly capsized, with you lot trapped inside. Being frightened is a perfectly reasonable response.”
5751054 flicked his ears in back, then drooped them along with his head to apologize. Not able to resist his sad eyes, I maneuvered between the horses so I could pet both of them and let out a sigh of defeat.
Private Tomas picked up the slobbery book, “Thank you sir. I think it’s past saving, but at least I don’t have to worry about anyone choking on it now.”
“What were you reading?”
The Northman’s pale face turned a deep red, “Oh, umm… just an adventure novel… that’s all!”
“He’s lying. He’s been reading that smutty book aloud to the horses to keep them entertained.”
I chuckled, unable to ignore Arc’s usual quips, then whispered to the stammering corpsman, “Your secret is safe with me. If you need a new book, just let me know.”
Tomas looked up at me confused, not comprehending my meaning until I winked at him, and it finally clicked. He then grew excited and whispered back, “Thank you sir, you’re too kind. If there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know.”
I grinned as I gave all the horses one final pat before moving topside. Lancel once advised me to always be respectful of the Logistics Corps. If they consider you a friend, they’ll undress, wash, clothe, and even tuck you into bed when you’re too exhausted to stand after fighting. But if they hate your guts, you’ll be lucky if they even bother to toss you onto the straw pile in the stables. He might have been exaggerating, but since I’ll be working with Private Tomas the next two months, and with him personally taking care of 5751054 for me, I figured it’d be smart to make fast friends with him.
Wait… he’s not going to start telling others that I enjoy romance novels is he? It was bad enough having Barry start sneaking his collection over every time he visited. Rot, I should have thought ahead more.
Cleanup from the battle was still ongoing. The smell of rotting fish and lake bile was getting scrubbed by corpsmen while the knights and spartans remained on high alert. I carefully stepped past a group of sailors rerigging one of the lines for the sails, and I ascended the steps to join Drozuk and other mages on the aft deck.
My green-skinned friend waved, “The horses okay?”
“No injuries; just got spooked. Those claustrophobic stalls kept them from getting knocked around, but they don’t really help to reduce stress.”
“That’s good, if we were on a regular cargo ship…” he shook his head to rid the bad thought, then pointed down towards the infirmary below us, “Reidar got permission to perform surgery. No clue how it’s going, but it’s been an hour, and I haven’t heard any screaming yet, so that’s a good sign.”
I idly tried to use mana sight to see through the walls, but peering through the thick ironwood was as difficult as seeing the bottom of a murky pond. Sighing, I looked back up to see Captain Adaline going over the visit to the fortress with Seleyna, and briefly watched the other mages playing cards. Well, not Vesril, he was over in his corner doing nothing.
Wait… not nothing. He has a [Sound Barrier] up and is occasionally nodding his head.
Curious, I tap Arc to see if he knows anything.
“He’s just vibing to some live dungeon reverb crossed with elven death echoes. I can’t translate the lyrics, but I can tell they’re full of teenage angst.”
Not sure how to respond to that (or what the rot Arc was even talking about), I was left dumbfounded until Drozuk tapped me on the shoulder.
“Travis, you still there?”
“Oh… yeah, sorry. Got lost in thought.”
He chuckled, “I feel you. I keep going over the battle in my head, wishing I could have done more. Hopefully next time we’ll be fighting on land.”
I nodded along, none of our training covered combat aboard a ship, so I felt lost throughout most of the fight.
A few shouts came from below, and I turned my head to see a few people pointing towards the bow of the ship. Looking up, I see a forming column of pink smoke near the horizon.
The spartan captain bellowed for everyone to put their helmet on, and I managed to get it on much quicker this time.
“Littlerock is under assault by monsters. All combatants, assemble on the main deck, prepare for an aquatic assault.”
---
Ambient mana swirled around the ship captain as he steered Warden’s Hammer at its top speed upriver, making the ship bob up and down as it tore through the waves generated by the north wind once we entered Littlerock Lake. I stood on the fore deck with my poleaxe in hand, glad that I only opted to remove my torso plating unlike some of the others, and already had all three of my combat enchantments active. The island fortress soon came into view, and given that it was a heavy trade hub, it took up most of the lake with its multiple ravelins acting as artificial islands in the water.
Tension filled the air as the ship sped past the first arrow-shaped island, then sharply turned to veer away from one of the bastion’s points towards the expanse of beach in front of the southern gate, all while the spartans on deck were chanting a battle cry to force the battle lust in my veins to pump. Going in prepared this time made it feel more like I was back in the arena at the mages’ academy, and I was oddly feeling excited, though slightly disappointed that Reidar was going to miss out due to still being in surgery.
A strange emotion overcame me though as we braced for landfall. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, my breathing grew erratic, and a sense of vertigo overtook me. It felt like I was hanging from the barn rafters with sweaty palms.
Ewww, Ewww, why are there so many! Octopuses aren’t supposed to turn into spiders!
Clenching my poleaxe with my right, I freed my left hand and began to bang my gauntlet against Arc to shut him up and focus on the…
“Travis,” Lancel grabbed me by the shoulder and gave me a hard shake, “snap out of it! We need you to clear the landing zone.”
Freed from whatever bout of madness came over me, I took a couple of deep breaths, then summoned Orb spells over my head to ready myself. Seconds later, our ship beached itself, and I joined the other Fire Mages as we launched [Fire Bolts] into the swarm of eight-legged monsters the size of goats.
The spartans rushed past us, leaping over the ledge and into the sand below, then raised their shields up to protect themselves as we launched another volley of spells over their heads. The knights then took their turn to leap, but before Lancel did, he grabbed me once more to get my attention.
“Travis, promise that you’ll stay behind me.”
I nodded, partly because that was what the plan was, but mainly because the intensity in his eyes straight up frightened me. He grinned, then hopped over the edge and into the forming shield wall, making up for his delay by skewering one of the monsters with his spear and kicking it into the encroaching swarm.
We then launched one last round of spells before jumping into the fray. My [Earth Cleat] enchantment softened my landing, saving me from needing to reinforce my legs or waste time recovering, and I was able to immediately start the framework for the combined [Earth Slide] spell that Mattius and Treblana were supposed to cast with me on the ship. I also managed to get a peek at what was attacking the fortress.
--Octopiders, a single-element monster. Although they can be quickly killed with a precise spear thrust to the face, these chitin-covered cephalopods are as dangerous on land as they are in the water. Able to relax and extend their tentacles underwater to swim and entangle prey or contract them to join the plates into a spider-like endoskeleton, these semi-aquatic monsters can be quite persistent hunters. They have a set of sharp fangs capable of piercing light armor, and if allowed to reach full maturity, can grow to the size of a Clydesdale, and deflect weapon blows by coating their armored plates with Water.--
I didn’t have to wait long for Mattius to mesh his spell formation with mine, and then have the two of us get humbled when the full Earth Mage exceeded the amount of mana we both used. The ship slid off the beach, and I shouted over my squad’s channel for Vesril to freeze the water. A big [Frost Orb] flew over our heads as we ducked, crashed into the water, then expanded outward into a spiraling sphere that froze everything in an eighteen-foot radius.
Okay, maybe not a regular Orb spell…
With our rear temporarily secured, we fell into formation with the spartans and knights, shifting into a double-sized diamond formation and slowly worked our way towards the gate. I went all out on Bolt spells, acting like the false arachnids were just another one of Arc’s illusions, and aiming for center mass with each crawler, since even a [Water Bolt] would stun an octopider long enough for Lancel to stab it with his spear.
Our trail of corpses eventually made it to the walls, where the damned things were climbing up in droves until us mages started knocking them down with our spells. Once that group was eliminated, we hunkered down with our backs to the wall.
Mattius and Treblana constructed a tenaille, a simple V-shaped one that produced a knee-high wall to protect the knights, and a raised platform for us other mages to keep launching spells. All attention was drawn to us while we held our ground for what felt like an hour before the wave of monsters finally died down.
---
Littlerock Fortress – Entrance to the Grand Hall
After the battle, the captains coordinated with the local soldiers to comb the beach for any lingering threats (and to extract any monster cores from the corpses), then had us march through the gates in formation once the local Logistics Corps were able to begin cleanup. People lined the streets on all sides, forcing the guards to clear a path for us towards the towering Northman-styled lodge found at the heart of every fortress. Once inside, room assignments were handed out, and we were informed that a warrior’s feast was to be held in our honor.
“Marvelous! Simply marvelous!” A brown-skinned elf wearing a robe stitched with constellations proclaimed as he approached us while we waited for the Grand Hall’s doors to open. “Merikath the bard, I’ll be the one chronicling your exploits during tonight’s feast. I was standing atop the ramparts when the gods heard our fervent prayers and sent you sailing in like a hurricane.” He weaved through our gathering battalion, wanting to shake hands with as many people as possible, then shamelessly hooked an arm around Vesril, “And don’t you worry my fellow knife-ear, I’ll be sure to highlight in detail how those frozen beasts shattered into pieces after falling to their deaths or were impaled by your Icicle spells.”
The Ice Mage didn’t move an inch, or even visibly react, but for some reason I could tell that he outright despised having this sea elf anywhere near him.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea…”
I listened to Arc’s plan, then decided to enact it by approaching the bard, “Pardon me, but Young Lord Vesril values his personal space. I’ll admit I’m not familiar with elvish court etiquette, but wouldn’t approaching him the same as you would a commoner without prior consent—?”
The bard’s eyes grew wide, then swiftly removed his arm and prostrated himself before Vesril, “My lord! Forgive this one for offending you in such a manner. Had I known—”
Vesril raised a hand, silencing the elf with an exhausted monotone, “Quiet. Leave my presence this instant, do not draw near me for the rest of the night, and I will forget this insult.”
The groveling elf stood and turned around, only pausing briefly to stuff their necklace of a black orb wrapped in a halo of silvery metal back into their robe, before walking away in embarrassment.
Vesril turned to stare at me, then after a long pause, let out a begrudging sigh, “Thank you Travis, it would have been… unbecoming for someone of my status to cause a scene.”
---
Lancel
Littlerock Fortress – Grand Hall
‘Why are they doing the presentation before the feast!’
Lancel sat at one of the elevated tables reserved for honored guests, his stomach roiling in pain from the lack of food (and the extended bout of boat sickness that he had to hide from Galehaut). Heck, he was so hungry that he was positive that he could finally beat Franklin at Aelder Creek’s annual food eating contest. He still wouldn’t win of course, there was no beating Travis. That bottomless pit never even showed the decency to not grab dessert after the awards were handed out.
He let out a heavy sigh and tried to steer his thoughts elsewhere. Since he and the others were on display, no one was sitting across from him, allowing him easy access to look around. The building’s layout was the exact same as all the other fortress lodges he’d been to, with high vaulted ceilings extending almost the entire way up the center of the building, exposed walkways outside the rooms to give guests a view of the festivities below, and enough tables and benches crammed inside to seat entire villages. There were soldiers, corpsmen, local witches and hunters, traveling paladins and clerics, and even a squad of upset spartans that arrived after the battle concluded, all silently watching the princess make her speech.
He unfortunately caught a whiff from the buffet table, making his stomach growl once more as he saw the servers filling iron cauldrons full of meat, potatoes, gravy, vegetables, and other savory items before placing them onto a bed of sizzling hot coals.
‘Well, so much for distracting myself… at least it looks like the princess is wrapping things up now.’
Seleyna opened the decorated lockbox for the jarl to see the valuable object inside. The red-headed Lakelander picked up the green orb, raising it high into the air, and affirmed his commitment to protecting the people of the kingdom with a rousing speech. Cheers and applause were heard from everyone, and soon a loud bell rang out, signaling the beginning of the feast.
Lancel inhaled his first bowl of food while the bard entertained the crowd with a retelling of the recent battle, proclaiming in great detail about how the “defenders couldn’t possibly fend off such a large swarm of monsters”, despite there being an entire complement of soldiers stationed inside. Sure, it’s possible there would have been casualties had his battalion not arrived, but he doubted that the local garrison wasn’t prepared for an attack by semi-aquatic monsters. Even he and the other two guards stationed with him in Aelder Creek had contingencies put into place despite the lack of monster attacks.
‘It’s a good thing too, if one more of those things broke off to attack Travis… we could have ended up with a lot worse than a single injury and lost pig.’
He pushed his cauldron forward, annoyed that he couldn’t get Travis out of his head, and almost ignoring the red-haired serving girl coming pick to it up seductively with both hands, squeezing her arms together to accentuate her exposed cleavage. A deep chuckle rumbled next to him once she left, and Galehaut tapped his thigh to get his attention.
“Think we should tell her to try her luck elsewhere?”
“Maybe, see any handsome guys you want to possibly invite upstairs?”
Galehaut chuckled once more as he squeezed Lancel’s thigh, “Just the one. Are we going to get any privacy tonight?”
“I doubt it. There’s no way that Royal Knight will let us skip out on shaking hands with the soldiers, or passing out whatever it was that Seleyna brought for the children.” Lancel groaned as he spotted the princess seated near Travis, “Speaking of kids, do you think Travis is okay? He looked pretty spooked there before I snapped him out of it.”
The goliath shrugged the boulders he had for shoulders, “Maybe it was just the jitters? I know it took me a few times to not quake in fear upon seeing the Spring Flood.”
Lancel sighed as the server returned with a fresh bowl of food, most likely insulting the woman further since he didn’t even bother trying to make eye contact or say thanks, “Hopefully that’s it. He seemed fine once he started casting, the little bastard barely even left any for me to stab.”
“He’s still just a sapling, a little wind will do him some good, forces him to build a more solid base.” A devious grin suddenly spread across his lip, “Oh, I think I just figured out how to help Travis with his swordsmanship…” He shoveled down his bowl of food, gesturing for Lancel to do the same, then smiled brightly at the woman serving them upon her return, “Excuse me miss, but do you know if the jarl intends to open up the floor for dancing this evening?”
“He does.” She gently stroked the back of Galehaut’s hand and grinned, “Will you be needing a partner tonight?”
The Lakelander blushed with embarrassment as he pulled his hand away and placed it over Lancel’s, “Afraid I’ve already got one. But my friend over there with the auburn hair and rainbow stripe on his shoulder needs one.” He tilted his head towards Travis to direct her gaze. She nodded, then took their empty cauldrons, thanking Galehaut for the suggestion.
Lancel shook his head once she left, “It won’t work, I once saw Travis turn down a table full of girls bringing him hotdishes, he’ll weasel out of dancing with her somehow too.”
“Shall we place a wager? I’m quite positive she’s the jarl’s daughter.”
“I’ll take that bet, what are you thinking?”
Galehaut rubbed his short beard in thought, “How about this? If I win, you need to join me on the dancefloor for a couple of songs, and if you win, I’ll pay for us to get a private room for the night.”
Lancel raised an eyebrow, “Alright, you’re on.”
An hour later, Lancel couldn’t stop laughing at the horrified look on Galehaut’s face. The big guy even ceased their southern two-step after a few minutes of dancing to apologize.
“Fleet-footed Zipporah, I need to go save that woman!” He broke away, then sprinted off, “Travis, time for another lesson.”
---
Marceles
Capital City
“And there’s a closet in the back with some extra blankets and a divider so you can separate the room into a beardless… err, I mean a gentlemen’s half and ladies’ half.” The dwarvish priest, Atgras Magmabraid, concluded as they finished the tour of the unused hostel.
Marceles could barely hear a word of it through the miasma clouding his mind. Where had he gone wrong? He knew the archbishop was a stubborn old hag but didn’t think she’d march them out of the church at spearpoint after reading their list of collected disputes.
His shoulders sagged as the now excommunicated members he petitioned for help filed in, carrying in the few possessions they were allowed to keep. He didn’t understand how they could be in such high spirits, with so many of them chatting about how they were happy to move out of the scattered inns they’d been staying at.
Kolen, the cleric that had been keeping him sane the past few nights, must have noticed his sullen expression and suggested that they move to the meeting room so they could finish discussing the living arrangements in privacy. He collapsed onto one of the short-legged chairs, the dwarven-made furniture withstanding the punishment without even a whimper, and he turned to the kind beardless of Adamanrion’s church that reached out to him.
“Thank you once again. I… I’m not sure what we would have done without your generosity. I’ll begin finding a permanent place for us to stay in the morning so—”
“No need for that, this place is the overflow of the overflow when our paladins and clerics return to the capital for winter. It hasn’t been used in years.”
Marceles nodded his head, “Is there perhaps something we can do in return?”
“There is.” Atgras pointed to a shelf of books, “Back when I was first leaning to speak common, I practiced by translating the journals that my forebearers kept. The ones on that shelf should be of interest to you, they’re from when the reformed branch of Adamanrion’s church broke off. Maybe check to see if there’s any errors that I missed?”
Kolen studied the books with a critical eye, “How convenient… what game are you playing dwarf?”
The beardless chuckled while they raised their hands, “I’m not playing you for fools like those paper-pushers over at Ignitious’ church, just answering the call.” They checked to make sure no one was in earshot and leaned in, “A month and a half ago, a curious human visited me to register and learn about an old sword he inherited. Nice young lad, was studying to become a mage, and… also happened to be famous in the dwarvish circles for crafting a weapon out of aelderwood and high-grade dwarven steel, despite forging the ingots using an old human method.”
Marceles’ and Kolen’s eyes widened... had they?
“We ended up almost forgetting all about his sword, and instead had a rousing discussion about the different ways to combine metal and wood to create something new. I didn’t think much about the encounter at the time, but then two weeks ago, I happened to catch him walking away from Adamanrion’s shrine of Rebirth, suffering a clear case of soul exposure.”
“Soul exposure?” Marceles turned to Kolen to see if he knew what they were talking about.
“A side-effect of having a major god’s influence flow through you. According to the testimonies of Chosen, it normally manifests as a temporary bout of depression, usually including a feeling of hollowness or insignificance, and can be soothed by intimate contact with another person or pet.”
“Aye,” the dwarf confirmed, “and once I realized that Travis was a Chosen… well, I couldn’t just stand by collecting rust after he went through the trouble of asking for my church’s help now can I?”
Marceles felt his mind drift, thinking about what Travis last said to him. I wish things were different. He was saddened to hear about a paladin who didn’t get to spend time with their family, or how the laws of the kingdom don’t allow…
“Atgras, excuse my ignorance, but do the kingdom’s treaties allow your dwarven clergy members to teach its human members magic?”
The beardless tilted their head, “No, no exceptions for us. It’s a real shame too. I’ve seen many human craftsmen come seeking to learn magic, with Metal Affinities so blatant that you can see them without mana sight.” They sighed, “But, since we don’t want them to get accused of stealing knowledge from us, we usually turn them away, much to their disappointment. They have no interest in becoming knights or mages, just want to become better blacksmiths, carpenters, or architects.”
Marceles grinned, he could see the path through the undergrowth now, “Do think your church would be interested in forging a new agreement with the three kingdoms?”