4.4
Commander Faulkin
The City Council rarely had to meet more than once a week before the Dreamers, and that had been too much for Faulkin's tastes. Now it seemed that at least a quorum of the Council met every other day, and Faulkin was right in the middle of all of them. The smaller meeting chamber in the City Forum was getting a lot of use.
Guildmaster Tover and Speaker Drelan Noc Scalla had been chatting amicably, already in their preferred seats when Faulkin entered the room. She barely got her tail settled when the door opened again. Master Merchant Zarabelkami and Crafts Master Gilvillian arrived almost on each other's heels, the gnome scooting in just in front of the head of the Belkami clan.
"Well?" the master merchant demanded even as she arranged herself at the table.
Faulkin very carefully thought of the master merchant as Zara'belkami, emphasizing the clan part of her name to avoid accidentally disrespecting the golden scaled arassas. If Faulkin was going to call her by her familiar name (as one would a child), she wanted it to be quite intentional. "As soon as Dame Chasraheil arrives, I will present the latest reports from the Studio of Capricious Dreams."
"And if she drags her tail?" Zarabelkami said, pointedly not looking at Crafts Master Gilvillian.
"There are other matters to discuss," Faulkin said.
"More crafters provoking the tribesmen?" Zarabelkami asked, her eyes narrowing.
"No," Faulkin said, speaking before the gnome. "I was thinking more about who to send as a trade delegate to Priesley's Folly. I think we can all agree that someone with an obvious elven parentage will be more likely to secure favorable terms."
"Must we move so quickly?" Speaker Drelan asked. "Are not such dungeon linking events often temporary?"
Faulkin wiggled her hand side to side. "In general, yes. This one, it's permanent. Our scouts confirmed that there is a new dungeon level called [Priesley's Folly] in the Studio, and that their divinations all point back to the Studio subsuming the dungeon linked to East Karth that went by the same name."
Tover grimaced and leaned back. "I've already been contacted by the East Karth Adventurer's Association demanding compensation for their inability to access the dungeon. I suspect we'll see a griffon flight of Karthians seeking residence permits in the next few weeks."
The Speaker let his lips curl back, but only said, "I see."
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*~*~*
Dame Chasraheil swept into the chamber in an obvious fury, her shouted, "Who invited the Asylum chids into our dungeon?!" interrupting the bickering over representative numbers of crafters and merchants that was currently deadlocking the negotiations over delegates to the East Karth town of Priesley's Folly.
"If you mean the representatives from the Arcane Asylum, I sent the message," Tover said.
"Why!? We're right here!" Dame Chasraheil stared down at the Adventurers Guildmaster, a cloud of barely restrained killing intent sharpening her features in Faulkin's gaze.
"I sent my own message because the Dreamers asked," Faulkin said, deliberately calm, choosing to show solidarity with the Adventurers Guild.
"And they just happened to know about the Asylum? Sand and Fog!" The silver haired elf gave the rest of the City Council a look of disgusted disbelief.
"I do not know how they learned about the Asylum. Perhaps the fact that the Asylum representatives brought along the very Traveler they were searching for had something to do with it." Faulkin resisted lashing her tail and threw out the reason she had waited for the RMA delegate. "What matters is that the Design Lead was able to neutralize mana within the Studio."
That didn't dim the Dame's fury, but it did redirect her focus. "That's impossible!"
"I trust my people, and that's what they reported to me. The Dreamers are from a vastly different world. Who knows what they know that we don't? And at the present, they are sharing that information for the cost of kindness." Faulkin gestured with her chin toward the empty chair. "Have a seat. I've heard enough bickering between our economic pillars for the moment to welcome sharing the most recent reports from the [Studio of Capricious Dreams]."
The elf sat, composing herself once more. Her entrance might have been staged, but the emotions burning within her gaze were all too real. Despite that, Dame Chasraheil had the self discipline to suck it up in pursuit of more important matters. As much of a personal pain in the posterior Faulkin found the elven mage, she had to respect that. Even if she didn't want to.
Faulkin passed out sheets of the "loose leaf paper" she was quickly becoming more and more fond of since Muglibaum brought it back from what was quickly getting called the Initial Negotiations. Borrowing from the Dreamer's example, she had applied eye catching colors around the phrases that were central to the concepts she felt her fellow Council members needed to be most aware of.
As soon as they had a sufficient and cheap supply of this paper Faulkin fully intended to replace the scroll boxes for daily records keeping. It just took a while for the scroll makers to figure out the best way to go from making long reels to sheets.
Presenting the reports barely took as long as a good tail scratch. Dame Chasraheil demanded to speak with the military mages who analyzed the portion of their military liaison's office that experienced mana negation.
Speaker Drelan knocked on the table at that point. "I must admit my ignorance, Dame Magus. Why is this mana negation so serious a matter?"
Dame Chasraheil turned to face the Speaker. "We depend upon mana and aether for every beat of our hearts, for every interaction with the Grand Tapestry, for every skill and spell we use. Mages who push themselves can temporarily deplete their mana pools, and we may call that [Mana Starvation], but there is still mana in our blood and breath. No mage born of Rhofhir has ever negated mana, has made it as if it simply did not exist. It's like - negating air. We can create and learn spells that lengthen the time we can survive between breaths, or to keep air at a consistent thickness, or even transmute air into water, but the reality of air is not simply denied. Every spell must compensate for the air around its casting or the lack thereof."
Faulkin added, "If this is an effect the Dreamers can manifest outside of the Studio, its military implications are beyond revolutionary. Even if it is exorbitantly expensive, difficult to use, and only able to affect an area for a short duration, it could change the course of wars. The impact of those kinds of short bursts on scrying alone could destabilize every treaty in effect today."
"Bury it in sand! We could explore the Primal Chaos!" Dame Chasraheil said.
The other Council members gave her looks ranging from incredulity at her priorities to the kind given to demented elders, filled with concern for her wellbeing, patience for her delusions, and sorrow for her descent into insanity.
Tover cleared his throat. "We need to understand this and its potential. Crafts Master Gilvillian, Master Merchant Zarabelkami, in my role as the Guildmaster of the Lotrot branch of the Maltese Adventurers Guild, I am formally challenging you to compromise so that we may begin negotiations with the Dreamers for access to and use of the [Hall of Crafting] level of the [Studio of Capricious Dreams]. If you fail to do so in the next two days, I will send for a senior member of the Guild to open negotiations on the Guild's behalf."
Faulkin felt as if the floor had opened up and sent her into free fall. "That would open Lotrot to the possibility of a direct conflict with the Adventurers Guild. Every adventurer in the city would be expelled if that happened." Just the thought of forcefully rounding up adventurers, many of whom were prior members of the Lotrot military, raised Faulkin's scales. Their families hailed from all strata of society, and the number of arassi clans that would likely leave Lotrot over the expulsion of their adventuring members - it was a nightmare enough to flare her scales.
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Zarabelkami stared into Tover's gaze. With frost practically fogging her words, she asked, "Are you threatening to usurp this Council?"
Tover shook his head. "I am part of this Council, but I am also a city Guildmaster of a continent spanning Guild. As are you. The implications of the Studio are breaking and reforming new patterns. As long as the members of this Council can provide a united face, there is no opening for our Guilds to get involved, but this dungeon has the avaricious attention of more than just the Free Cities, and you need to remember that, Master Merchant. Change is inevitable. Profit is not. You've had as much time as any of the rest of us to see the tracks these Travelers are leaving. I'm giving you another two days to come to terms with the changes and start putting your guild before your pride."
Zarabelkami rose, her scales as rigidly clamped to her skin as her tail was held straight. "I will not be intimidated," she declared just before pivoting and exiting the meeting chamber.
Crafts Master Gilvillian said, "You know, we have a quorum right now. In the interests of supporting a common goal, I am willing to set aside the issue of requesting specific materials from the Studio for the moment for permission from the Council to establish a branch office of the Crafters Guild in the Studio. We would, of course, desire that the majority of our members staffing that branch office also be members of the Adventurers Guild. No one wants to deal with mana poisoning while setting up a new office."
"Include at least two mage crafters as well and you'll have my support," Dame Chasraheil stated.
"Of course!" Crafts Master Gilvillian said, affecting puzzlement that she would even have to state such an obvious point.
Speaker Drelan Noc Scalla hummed in thought for a moment. "I think … I think the beast kin would prefer the Studio to the merchants should we require anything we cannot produce for ourselves. Yes, I shall support this."
Faulkin was busy weighing options, and when the other Council members turned to her, she said, "I have two conditions for my support. The first is that Guildmaster Tover find this to be an acceptable compromise to rescind his challenge, and *not* request his guild's intervention. The second is that part of the arrangements include pushing for the Dreamers to accept that Lotrot's laws preeminently apply to our citizens within the Studio. I'm not saying they have to agree to that, but I want to get as close to that concession as possible."
Tover leaned back, mulling the conditions over himself now. All the other Council members' gazes were fixed on him. After several heartbeats, he nodded. "I will support this, and agree to Commander Faulkin's condition, but I have to point out that the Merchants Guild and the Maltese Adventurers Guild have some tangled contracts. I can do my best to keep matters in Lotrot's hands, but I cannot honorably promise that my Guild will not involve itself without my call to action or consent."
Faulkin nodded. "Understood and accepted. Are we agreed that Crafts Master Gilvillian may negotiate with the Council's permission for the establishment of a branch of the Lotrot Crafters Guild within the [Studio of Capricious Dreams] with the conditions put forth?"
"Agreed," the other Council members chorused and the notification of the agreement popped into each of their consciousnesses.
Faulkin wondered how Zarabelkami took the notice.
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*~*~*
Zarabelkami
The Master Merchant was in her landau, nearly back to the Merchant Guild offices, when the details of the agreement reached in the Council chamber found her. It took a great deal of self control for Zarabelkami to remain looking like a waiting storm while on the way to her private office, but once there, the door firmly shut, she sagged in relief and delight, then gave into the urge to dance in victory.
As much as she and Tover disliked each other personally, their guilds' contracts meant they were forced to work together more than the rest of their fellow Council members bothered to be aware of. Now that Gilvillian had agreed to put off the issue of getting exactly what they wanted directly from the dungeon, she could present the idea to her superiors in the Merchants Guild as an opportunity and not a reaction to a serious threat to the power of the Guild.
Her victory dance done, Zarabelkami nearly floated with joyful satisfaction over to the waiting bottle of wine and poured herself a full goblet, taking the goblet with her to her desk. She pulled out her enchanted quill and made the necessary changes to her proposal before sending for the swiftest Guild courier they had.
In the time it took her to dictate the proposal, she had regained control of her body language. Her [Sense Motive] skill informed her that her [Acting] skill had conveyed just the right amount of control to leave the courier wondering what had crawled under her scales.
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*~*~*
Candy
She thought she handled the changes in her reality pretty well since waking up in a cave full of Raptor Men, but as Candy stared at her friend and project partner in his new, utterly inhuman shape, she had to admit that she was beyond lost.
Hysteria. She felt it, a pressing hopeless fatalism. Unlike the times past, this hysteria had an edge of liberation.
Axiomatic. That was the word that best described her, one introduced to her through the role playing games her cousin and friend had enjoyed.
Role playing was weird, but kind of fun. When she turned it into a mental exercise of exploring other social rules paradigms, it had gone from incomprehensible to frustratingly difficult.
She was axiomatic; rules were her comfort, order and structure her stalwarts.
It bothered her that the word meant something different in the RPG context, at least as her friends used it, than it did in the dictionary. Imprecise language again.
Rob changing from human to elf hadn't been easy for her to wrap her head around, but she guessed the genetic differences were quite minor, considering there were all kinds of half elves around.
Candy hadn't ever been religious. Religions all stated a requirement of faith, and Candy was an innately honest person. "God said so" was as unacceptable an answer to her as "Because I'm your mother" had been. One did not steal because it destabilized the social compact at the basis of human society. With this answer, the reason people did still steal became less about "they're just stupid" (another unsatisfactory excuse) to a myriad of reasons why thieves existed, all centered around their exclusion (real or perceived) from the various social compacts. Each of those answers presented their own myriad paths to address the existence of thieves.
Souls had never been something she could accept, at least not some immortal soul comprising a person's core personality. Yet, this golem of living crystal was such a perfect copy of the Brad she had known that she had to reconsider. He had no common physiology with his Earth self, yet the intonations of emotions, wit, the very cadence of his movements matched up.
"And we've lost her," Aaron said. He guided her to sit on the couch in the central room of the Commons, tucking her into his side and keeping an arm around her waist.
Candy had the idle thought that Aaron liked her in a flirty sense, and if she didn't want to confuse him with her own bafflement over dating and relationships, she should straighten up and turn on what Lena had called her "android" persona. But the contact felt more comforting than she could deny herself so she shoved it aside to deal with "later".
Brad - the golem with Brad's soul in it - shook his serpentine head and gave every impression of sighing. "I wonder how long it will take her to adjust to Rhofhir."
Aaron laughed, not a happy sound. "Probably as long as all the rest of us! I fucking hate that I'll never see Mom or Dad again, and Rob's already damn near died on us. Candy's been amazing, only went out on us once, shortly after we got here. Then she dragged us into her focus on understanding what's going on, and that helped all of us deal with the here and now without getting sucked into a bunch of 'woe is me' crying and sitting on our asses sucked into the grief over what we've lost. So what if she deals by taking a time out?"
"Easy, mate!" Brad raised his hands in a palms out gesture. "She's my friend, too! Just, she is on the autism spectrum, and Rhofhir is a designed system. There are parts that are just so completely fucking stupid that they confound the fuck out of logic and reason. Failures in the internal logic of the system are more problematic for her to accept than they are for us."
Brad wasn't wrong. Candy didn't think she was autistic. She hadn't ever been diagnosed as such, and while she did have problems understanding social cues and people, that wasn't the defining nature of autism. But, he had gotten to see first hand how she needed to comprehend the system of the Dream Catcher. The fact he had quickly gone from offended to intrigued by her piece by piece analysis of his initial concept for the device had been the point when she decided he was worth befriending.
Candy was aware there were inefficiencies in the design of the Grand Tapestry of Rhofhir, however, those inefficiencies also provided the system with some flexibilities. Once she had a better grasp of how aetherial force interacted with the four forces she already understood, then she would be in a position to judge the strengths and weaknesses of the Tapestry's design. Until then, the Grand Tapestry of Rhofhir was a grand guide to tease out those interactions.
Gravity required mass to act, and electro-magnetism depended upon electrons. Perhaps aetherial force required mana to act upon, but was mana a particle or a wave or a quark?
Could souls be a product of these mana bits? What were the implications for Earth and the universe of her birth? Was mana the so called "dark matter" the astrophysicists were trying to understand? Was mana, and therefore aetherial force, present at such a dispersed manner on Earth that its affects were so slight none of their measuring tools could detect it, but still significant enough for souls of mana to have entered into their mythologies?
She and Sha'lanadi had come up with a way to use the concept of a Faraday cage to evacuate a localized area of mana, which Lena used to control the flow of mana from Priesley's Folly into the Studio. Could there be a naturally occurring analog preventing mana from affecting Earth as it did Rhofhir?
Unconsciously, Candy snuggled closer to Aaron while her mind dove into all the questions that had been building up, brought to a crisis of complexity by the question of what defined a distinct individual. Was this golem her friend Brad, or a new entity, and what did that mean about all of them, the Travelers from Earth?