We are sailing. I love ships. We wizards each even have gotten a small cabin on a converted river barge. It carries a lot of 30mm cannons and RPG launchers. Two more armed ships and eight cargo ships make up the rest of the convoy. The container ships seem to be fully ladden, but we also have a tanker and a barge apparently specialised on carrying loose goods like coal that are going downriver under ballast.

During the first day of our cruise we meet a speartongued duckfrog and two water snake monsters. Thomas loots them for respectable but not spectacular loot. We also detect a category 3 intrusion in its early stages. I have no idea what happened to our report.

We are operating on 10 minute operating and 10 minute recharge schedule that allows Thomas time in the sun to generate mana. That guy is starting to look like a beachcomber seriously into worshipping the sun. His ability from the coral essence removes the need for sunscreen but still lets him tan.

P: What did you get as racial?

T: I do not really know. It feels to me like I want to absorb knowledge packages.

P: You mean like the map crystal we have fed the device?

T: Like them, but not them exactly. Something was wrong. I tried to use a spare one. It did nothing.

P: How do you feel about not knowing so many things?

T: Badly. Are you following those superheros on TV?

P: Marginally.

T: They seem to be the equivalent to open source, but the companies, those whom they are calling the Global Defense Network, do not publish open specifications.

P: Does that make them evil?

T: In principle yes, though I need to point out that we are not posting papers on our essence and racial abilities either, let alone for free.

P: We were literally legally obligated to sign NDAs, rspectively we are under legislation about official secrets.

T: I know, my point is that we have no idea what rituals can ultimately do.

P: You mean like in those stories where there is a magical spell that can blow up a planet?

Our cell phones beeping to call us back to the device relieve him from giving an answer.

--

I find a bed on a lightly swaying ship to be extremely comfortable. A cannon firing a few shots around midnight does not fundamentally change that. Breakfast is early but good. Apparently we do not want to waste daylight. Ulrike and Dejan are joining us. I suspect that the sailors are under orders to limit contact with us. I at least hope so. The idea that they find us repulsive or scary is not nice.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Shortly before lunch we are forced into a battle. We have not been surprised. This monster at least shows on hydrophones. A multiheaded pliosaur rammed into one of our gunships. Well that is what I would call it if I stuck with scientific terms. Colloquially if you are ready to go for classical mythology, that thing is a hydra. And it is strong. Its bites tear steel. 30mm grenades again do not do what the are supposed to do according to the laws of conventional physics.

But they are annoying enough. The hydra turns on the other gunship. It uses a burst of magical shells. One of the heads bursts apart. The hydra rears out of the water in an impressive display of anger.

That is enough. The gunship launches two torpedoes. Our ship is showered with undefinable internal organs. I do not envy the soldiers sent out for photographic documentation and simple scientific measurements. On this occasion Thomas and I cooperate on the looting ritual using what looks like an internal gland with digestive tract attached. The sailors heaving it onto the part of the deck we are working on find their digestion quickened and reversed.

We are getting healing potions, meat and the holy grail: an essence. It looks like the sky over a boundless prairie crowned by endless blue vistas with tiny wisps of clouds.

T: Your turn. It looks like some kind of sky or air essence.

P: You think I’ll get to conjure a biplane?

T: Only Snoopy deserves that. Nor do I want to see you run around with a pilot’s scarf in this weather.

I do my ritual myself. Afterwards I feel powerful. Connected to some primal nature. I give in and turn into the hulk. I will be owing a favor for the rest of my days for Dejan and Ulrike for convincing the sailors to not use me for target practice. I found myself unable to speak in that form.

Ulrike is addressing my reshrunk form which finds me suffering from a headache.

U: Why are you wearing only underpants?

P: Ow, my head. I don’t know. I sort of enlarged my underpants and put the rest of my wardrobe aside.

T: As interesting as your choice of underwear may be, what have you done to the conservation of mass?

P: You are asking that after seeing my conjuring an assault rifle?

T: The rifle can fit into you. Your collosal neanderthalesque form cannot.

P: Could you speak more softly?

T: Science can never be quieted.

P: Funny. I admit to being guilty of violating that law.

U: Still, where is your clothing?

P: Some … other place.

U: Well, then retrieve it.

This woman has a very commanding voice. I rematerialized my clothing, suffering another spike of headache.

D: Have you ever considered a career in creative border crossings?

U: We need to talk about your attitude again.