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Engines of Obsession: Chapter 36
🕑 Added 2025-09-27 05:07:36 +0000 UTCChapter 36: The Hero of Durocor
The entire room smelled of freshly brewed tea and some kind of herbal aroma that Nikandros had set out. Despite this, Turner could still detect the faint hint of an acrid, medicinal smell – unsurprising, since he had most of it on him.
His legs were still bandaged but had stopped bleeding, and just as he’d predicted, his chest and arms were covered in bruises. Fortunately, his shirt and pants covered the worst of it.
Turner knew that his swollen eyes and the bruised cheek he hadn’t even noticed in the heat of the moment didn’t make him the most attractive guest, but with only the elder Byron, his butler, and the rest of his team present, he doubted it was a problem.
Byron continued to look over the papers in his hand. After a few more moments of frowning and shaking his head, he sighed.
“Well, Mr. Turner, if nothing else, it appears that you’ve managed to disobey my directives… and somehow get me more involved publicly, at that.”
Turner cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yes, sorry about that. I had to make a call, and I didn’t realize people would start asking questions and find out that you’ve been paying for the room.”
Byron tossed the papers onto the table in front of him and reached for the cup of tea that Nikandros held out to him.
“Not much we can do about it now. But then, there are advantages to being the patron of the Hero of Durocor.”
He grimaced again. “But now this puts pressure on me to actually fund your little excursion out west.”
Nora, who was sitting nearby with her arms crossed, clucked her tongue at him.
“You complain an awful lot, but you and I both know that the money you’re going to spend on this expedition isn’t just being supplemented by the city. Your reputation is going to bring all sorts of opportunities in, now, won’t it?”
Byron’s frown turned into a smirk. “Yes, Miss Graves, it seems I failed to consider your mercantile experience. You’re absolutely right. And in the long run, this is probably better for me than anything else.”
He sipped his tea. “But in the short term… it really hurts the purse.”
Milo grumbled from the corner. “I can’t believe I missed the big fight.”
He glanced at Turner. “I know, I know, I shouldn’t be rushing into battle. But I at least would’ve liked to have seen it. Will we be heading out as soon as my ribs have recovered enough?”
Byron sighed. “Between your injury and the ones that Turner has – even if they’re more minor than yours – I’m not sure we can send an expedition out until early next year. You’ve no shortage of volunteers now, Mr. Turner, and gathering an expedition wouldn’t take long, but…”
As Byron trailed off, Turner nodded. “I know what you’re saying. By the time we heal – even if you spend that time getting the rest of the expedition together – and even assuming it’s a small expedition we can move and organize quickly, it would be cutting it close.
"We might reach our objective before the first snowfall, if we’re very lucky. But we’d almost certainly be stuck on the wrong side of Black Mountain when winter sets in.”
Byron nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately, there is pressure for us to do something sooner rather than later—and that’s without telling everyone else exactly what happened to trigger all of this.
"If you’re correct, situations like this will just keep popping up until we find a way to either divest ourselves of the interest—which seems unlikely—or resolve it. But I don’t want to send good men out to certain death either.”
Turner grunted. “We can just tell people that we have a suspicion these strange things originated from somewhere out west. It’s close enough to the truth. We are going west to try to find more answers, after all.”
Byron rubbed his chin but seemed to be in agreement. “Yes. And in the meantime, we need to investigate this strange new player. Going out west is currently the only option we have for trying to find out more. It’s possible some of these Hunters you’ve mentioned survived… though why they waited ten years to make a move is a little strange. And I’ve certainly never heard of equipment like the kind you described... or the wreckage you brought back.”
The nobleman frowned again. “Speaking of which, we got the first results on the man whose corpse you brought back. Both of his lower legs were some sort of simple mechanical prostheses, and his hand was something far more advanced. It was fully functional, and we aren’t even sure how he was able to control the fingers with such dexterity. The workmanship is amazing… but it’s certainly different from the machinery you described Blakely as having.”
“What about the smaller constructs?” Nora asked.
Byron sighed sadly. “Those are still in the hands of the government. Turner here may be the Hero of Durocor, but as you can imagine, getting a hold of any information about those is a lot more difficult. All we have are the half-melted remains of the flyers you encountered. Those seem even more sophisticated. Some of the materials, we’re still having trouble identifying.”
“The man was dangerous,” Turner agreed. “He knew how to fight. I took him by surprise, and he still injured me easily. I lucked out in taking him down before he could hit me again. And that very fact complicates things.”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to do this, but we may have to leave as soon as we can. I’m just trying to work it out logistically… to see how we could possibly get there and have a chance of getting back before winter snows us in. I think it’s possible, but it would require a lucky break.”
A grimace passed over Byron’s face. “Yes, I agree. You have a reputation for caution, but even I know this would be cutting things tight, even under the best of terms.”
“Right,” Turner agreed. “But can we afford to wait much longer? If we wait until winter has passed, then that’ll be more months where Blakely is moving – wherever she’s going. The trail is growing colder. Literally, in this case. And we still don’t know what this other faction is up to.”
Nora raised her hand. “If I may,” she interrupted, “with better supplies, and the funding and support provided by Durocor, I may be able to get both Milo and Turner back in fighting shape earlier than expected. It would still be tight to take an expedition out in this condition, but a small enough group can move quickly enough that we can do it. Especially considering what Vale left us.”
She looked down to her side and tapped her satchel.
“She didn’t leave a direct map, but between her journal and where we know she went and when, I can easily figure out where the old roads are. Most of the roads themselves are probably overgrown, but her journal also indirectly tells us where all the intact bridges are.
"It’s been ten years – actually a little more – but those bridges have stood for nearly two millennia. A difference of ten years may not make much difference there. They’re probably all standing, even if one or two are now impassable. That cuts our travel down to weeks instead of months.”
A heavy sigh lifted from Byron, but he still asked the question.
“Such a short timeframe will make it difficult to raise an actual expedition. But you’re right, it’ll have to be small anyway. I’ve never actually funded an expedition. How many men were you thinking of?”
Nora looked to Turner, as did Byron.
Turner just had to shake his head. “That isn’t an easy question to answer. Honestly, I’m not sure Milo and Martin are ready. Messenger's Folly, I’m not sure I’m ready. But if I had to guess…”
Turner rubbed his chin. “We’ll need at least three guides. Even if they haven’t gone that deep in, they should have some experience going into the wildlands. We’ll also need at least three scouts and two small squads of soldiers. Then a smaller set of reserves for anyone wounded. At least two will need some medical experience. And then, of course, some pack animals for gear.
"We’re probably looking at twenty men or so, plus the four of us.”
“Difficult,” Byron agreed, “but not impossible. Your newfound fame will definitely come in useful here. We’re fortunate you managed such a difficult shot.”
"Mmmn," Turner mumbled incoherently.
Nora nodded. “Well, if you can’t get the expedition together in time, I guess we have no choice but to wait out the winter – here or in Sparston. But if you can... I guess it looks like we’re going to give it a try.”
Turner sighed. “I suppose. Even with your map cutting it down to a few weeks of travel, this is still dangerous territory, and we don’t know what we’ll run into. I don’t like it.”
He let out a dry chuckle. “On the other hand, it gets me out of the hero worship here.”
But nobody else laughed.
Byron clapped his hands. “Very well. It looks like you’ve given me quite a lot of work to do as well. Still... I have to admit, I’m a bit excited. I never thought I would play a part in something like this.”
Nora rose to her feet with a chuckle. “Neither did I.”
Martin shook his head, and Milo grinned… but it was a bit forced.
The group shuffled up and out, having caught onto Byron’s nonverbal dismissal. But Turner lingered for just a moment.
“Actually, sir,” he said, shutting the door after the others had left. “I do have one minor thing to talk to you about…”
