DB Lazarus
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61. Further Inroad - I
🕑 Added 2025-04-02 19:00:07 +0000 UTCSomehow, I started the following day in both the same and a completely different manner. I woke before the bell marking the shift change, though today I was refreshed, my muscles without a hint of an ache. I threw a sweater over my undergarments, though now that layer consisted of my new gear courtesy of Kyria Rhaptis. Dorian met me at my door, though now he carefully examined my garb. As I trudged through the entrance tunnel, I drew attention, though now some of the Volkski disguised anger had morphed into frank hatred. Word had spread.
I walked to our mining site, continuing to ignore the animosity. What was a few more degrees of hatred anyway? When Dorian and I arrived, the Verndari still glowered when he saw us, though many of the other Ættir acted…neutral? The crew under Eiræk even nodded when we entered.
Of course, that wasn’t what shocked Dorian. He sped up on his way to the storage room, waving me to follow. “Let’s gear up. It looks like we’re late to the party.”
“Yeah.”
I followed quickly behind him. We were early, but the mining operation was already in full swing. As always, Dorian was finished before I had half my gear on. He picked up my pickaxe and inspected it. He wiggled its head before frowning.
“I can get you a new one. I think you earned it.”
I shook my head. “I know the connection is poor, but I can handle channeling through it. It has treated me well. Plus, all the other pickaxes are metal, and I think I have moved beyond those.”
He snorted. “You could say that. Still, I can probably requisition one capable of channeling.”
“Will it cost me or the company something?” He sucked in air between his teeth, and I waved away any response. ”It isn’t worth it.”
“But—“
“I can handle it. I have it down.” It had served me well, and I wasn’t about to trade it away. I held out my hand. He shrugged and tossed it to me. I grabbed it with ease—too much ease. Dorian cocked an eyebrow. He noticed it too. “I hit level 5.”
He raised an eyebrow. “We will have to chat about that later.”
Right. Business first. “Where do you think they will send us today?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yeah,” I echoed his wistfulness.
Apparently, neither of us wanted to voice our desire, as if a simple hint would jinx it. However, we had the same desire—the prize we’d bled for. I silently followed Dorian back into the main cavern. Somehow in the few short minutes we spent gearing up, the cavern appeared even busier. Everyone was moving with purpose.
Dorian took stock. “If this is how they mine, I now understand why my clan always feared Ættir in battle.”
“Something never to forget, Oresian,” Came a familiar voice from behind us. Though it had the deep timber of an Ættar, the words contained none of the usual disdain. I turned to find Eiræk, flanked by Rægnor and another Ættar in our company. “I would like your input on the lode we just found.”
Dorian gave a subtle nod. “It would be an honor to be of assistance.”
I slowly rotated my head to confirm Dorian still stood next to me. Yep. Still there. Was he learning diplomacy?
“And Human,” my gaze snapped back to Eiræk, “some terrorvole corpses remain in the cave. They need to be hauled out for processing.”
Human? Not unexpected, but still stung. Sure, he had addressed Dorian as Oresian, but after all that talk of honor and courage from last night, I’m Human. No name. No title. How many lives did I need to save? Sure, I would take it. It was downright jovial compared to the way others said it, but how about some form of address that wasn’t everyone’s favorite epithet?
I needed to learn more about the Ættir and their Humans. There had to be more to this than a recent battle.
We moved into the next cavern, and the change took me aback. “When did you all do this?” The post-battle chaos had vanished. They had cleaned up and organized everything: the walls demolished, pit traps filled, and terrorvoles carcasses piled in each corner ready for removal.
“Last night.”
Dorian answered my question before I could ask. “This is standard procedure with this many dead. The number would overwhelm the [Harvesters], and leaving that many dead on the surface would invite too much trouble. Assuming there are no other major entrances, it is safer to keep a small contingent here overnight to scare away any small scavengers that can sneak through the cracks.”
“And we don’t waste time,” Eiræk added.
They didn’t. On our way into the next cavern, we walked over what remained of the pit traps and walls. Little remained of them besides occasional small stubs and uneven ground.
“Where is the burrower?”
Dorian clapped my shoulder, and he had a gleam of excitement in his eyes. “You’ll see.”
“Oh…” The word slipped out as I stopped mid-step.
Dorian’s smile reached from ear to ear. “Impressive isn’t it.”
It was. It was also terrifying. The smaller cave made its already massive form appear larger, and the soft light radiating from the densely packed crystals the worm-like creature rested against gave it an ominous feel. During the battle, I had gained an inkling of its length, but this close, I could truly appreciate its size—and its mouth.
The Verndari’s attacks may have torn the maw to shreds, but enough remained for my imagination to run wild. Multiple rows of teeth ringed the edge of its circular mouth, ready to act as a living blender, shredding anything it engulfed. The long, barbed tongue that it used to spear its prey lay curled next to them. Even with chunks taken out of it, it was thicker than many full-grown tree trunks and had to be capable of piercing solid wood, much less a person’s flesh—not that it needed it. Memories of my hands in the hærlið abdomen pulling stone shards flashed before my eyes.
How did people routinely fight and defeat things like this?
Dorian caught me as I stumbled. He shot me a concerned look. “You going to be okay?”
“I think so.” I hadn’t tripped because of distraction. A rush of heat had enveloped me, and my skin tingled. My bones vibrated as both the pain and the rush from raw power filled me. My Marks hummed as they bathed in the high-density Aether.
The density exceeded anything that I had experienced before. Energy coursed through me, waiting to be unleashed. The whole thing was suffocating, but tolerable, especially compared to a day ago. Before this new tier, I would have lasted seconds. Now, I had more than seconds—maybe minutes, if I paced my breathing and focused. Activating my passives helped reduce the load, but that also created another burden. All in all, I could manage things with some concentration, but mining here remained out of the question—a shame. Veins of huge, shimmering green crystals zigzagged through the cavern. Around them, smaller stones studded the walls. Together, they bathed the cavern in soft emerald light that deepened the green skin tone of the Ættir
“Dorian, how rich is this strike?”
“For a company our size not needing to share it, it is very rich.”
“They get denser?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Dorian wandered over to the burrower, running his fingers over the large plates. They were smooth like polished granite without cracks or signs of yesterday’s battle. Each of the curved, rectangular plates was at least three feet wide and six feet tall. Peering at a joint, they looked to be inches thick, yet the burrower somehow moved so fluidly.
Dorian looked to Rægnor. “You took my advice then?” Rægnor exchanged a look with Eiræk but then said nothing. Dorian continued nonplussed. “Either way, you did well. I can’t make out even a single hairline fracture, and these plates are fully saturated—super-saturated, actually. It will give enough time for the [Harvesters] to strip and prepare them without any loss of potency.”
“Good. I had to task men not under my direct command to move it. Many grumbled, but if it increases our contribution like you say, that will quiet any discontent.”
“Oh, it will. Any monster of this size and tier has value, but...this isn’t exactly a secret, but I doubt many people outside certain circles know it. A burrower’s real worth is as a source for high-grade living stone.” That got a sharp intake from both Ættir. “Yeah, I am sure your [Shamans] would want to get their hands on the finished products as our master crafters would. It will take some processing still, but the yield will be high. Of course, if you hadn’t moved the burrower here, many of these plates would have become brittle, even inert.”
He flicked the plate with his finger. “It needs this density. The plates allow the burrower to move more through the earth like water, but it only works because the beast infuses its plate with Energy. It is costly and unsustainable outside a high-density area. It is the primary reason you rarely run into one. And for the record, I checked. Our company has the honor of not only sighting but bringing down the first one in this expedition. By the way, I let the [Harvesters] know what could be coming so they had the time to set things up. When we make the next run of terrorvoles, I’ll let them know the details of the burrower’s preparations. We don’t want the plates to remain here too long. You can oversaturate them.” Dorian paused to let everyone take everything in. Then he addressed Eiræk directly. “I hope that wasn’t too presumptuous.”
My eyebrow raised at the clear challenge in his voice. So, Dorian and I wanted to know the same thing: where did we stand?
Eiræk didn’t flinch under Dorian’s gaze. “That was well done. I know there has been…animosity between our peoples. I thought myself—” He shook his head. “Let’s just say that my eyes have been opened. Even if I don’t follow them, I will listen to your suggestions as any other of this company. However, the burrower wasn’t why I requested your assistance.”
That piqued Dorian’s curiosity. He had a terrible poker face, and his eyes darted to every nook and cranny as we followed Eiræk toward the opposite side of the cave. On the way, we passed Ættir working on different sections of the cave. Their distribution didn’t appear to be random. Someone, probably the Verndari, had divvied up sections into different divisions, and not all sections contained the same number of crystals. Ours appeared one of the poorest.
Was placement based on the battle? Or did this come back to the Human in the group? As much as I wanted to know, that question would only cause trouble.
A few of the Ættir under Eiræk had already started working the section, though they clumped to the edges of it, avoiding a pocket near a small recess covered by an irregular, large stone slab. The hærlið knelt to move it out of the way. His Marks flared, and he pulled the massive stone cover back. As he did, an eerie blue light spilled from around its edges.
Dorian rushed past Eiræk as soon as he caught sight of what was inside. He knelt and stared at a vivid green crystal embedded in the stone. At first blush, the crystal didn’t appear too dissimilar from the others in the cave. It was larger, with facets extended beyond the length of my forearm, but it had a similar shape and spooky-green glow. However, even I could tell there was something special about the eerie blue halo surrounding it. It had intensity far beyond anything I had seen, and at this distance, the Aether radiating off made my heart race.
Dorian reached out his hands, and the same blue light started to spread up his arms along his Marks. His arms began to tremble, and with each inch, his tremor increased in amplitude. Then my [Sense Injury] started to ping.
“Dorian, what is going on?”
I tried to take a step forward, but I hit an invisible wall. Aether flowed through my body like electricity, freezing me in place. Only with aggressive conversion to Energy could I free myself enough to take a step back, even then, I would hit my compensatory limit quickly.
Rægnor walked over to me. “Careful here. You may be tolerating this area, but that is another level. He will be fine.”
Would he? However, with that density of Aether, I didn’t have any other choice but to wait. However, Rægnor’s words turned out true. The vivid blue energy never extended past Dorian’s elbow. His tremor diminished along with the injuries I had sensed. Through all this, he just continued to move his hands along the crystal’s length never touching it. We waited, and after a couple of minutes, he finally finished.
He rocked back on his heels and took a few steps backward before turning to face us. Though he had just been sitting there, a thick sheen of sweat covered his bronze brow.
“Hærlið, you were right to call me over. This is a flawless gemstone. At least grade IV, maybe higher. In this cave, it is quite the find. It may have been what had attracted the burrower to this place. We—and I use that loosely because I think I am the only one here with the capability to do it—could extract it intact. However, I would recommend bringing in a professional from an Oresian group. I would probably damage it.”
“What is your projected success rate?”
Dorian hummed as he thought. “A coin toss.”
Rægnor started to answer, but Eiræk cut him off. “You don’t need to remind me. I have taken your words to heart already, but boundaries can only be pushed so far.”
Translation: we were still outsiders. Dorian and I had bled with them, earning a place, but anyone else… They were proud people—too proud. The hærlið may be burning political capital as we speak by first supporting Dorian and now trying to bring in outside help. Give me endless hours rounding with a cantankerous Attending over this. At least there, we had a common goal.
Dorian snorted, before voicing what we both thought. “You don’t make it easier on yourselves, do you? However, it might not matter if I fracture it on extraction. A gemstone like this could power quite a few arrays. It would also combine quite nicely with the living stone. However, to make this worth anything, you would need a buyer and the ability to transport it. The first would be easy. Any auction house would accept it, probably with a cut on its typical fee because of the attention it would generate. You would just have to get it there. Transport will be risky. A crystal this size will act as a beacon to monsters, especially when not blocked by stone. So, even if the expedition could get a good price, they still may consider grounding it up to use as reagents for potions or for powering arrays just because of the complexity of the logistics of transportation.”
Eiræk pondered the dilemma. "What would you recommend?"
Dorian’s enthusiasm was unrestrained. He loved this stuff, and his inclusion by Eiræk washed away any bad blood. "It depends. I don't know what constraints you have on what you earn. If you get ‘paid’ when the expedition receives it, you should try to extract it whole. If the value is held in escrow until final delivery, then you should grind it up. The risk isn’t worth it. Your take also matters. The smaller your cut, the less incentive to keep it intact because your cut of the premium is that much less.”
I had inklings of Dorian’s mercantile skills, but he had taken things to another level, not that the hærlið seemed impressed. He just scowled. “So needlessly complex. But we are bound.”
“My guess is your deal puts you at a disadvantage, but if you allow it, I could ask the Quartermaster. She would know all the details, though she tends to…get involved.”
“Yes she does, but it may be worth it especially if you ask.”
A frown briefly flashed across Dorian’s face, but he didn’t disagree.
Rægnor clasped the Eiræk’s shoulder. “Brother, you have my support, but the Verndari—”
“I know his opinion, but this is within my right. I will deal with—“
He cut off abruptly. Dissent in the ranks?
Dorian filled the silence. “The biggest question is how long can you wait to extract it.”
“I have taken precautions even if none in our group should stoop so low as to try and claim it. We have time. Get me the information we need, then I will decide on the next steps. And, Oresian, keep her out of it, even if it means learning less.”
He spun his massive frame and exited the alcove with Rægnor following.
I waited until they were out of earshot, but even then, I still whispered. “Dorian, that seemed like progress.”
“Why don’t you save that impression until after we talk to the Quartermaster.” He sighed. “Let’s get this over with. But grab a cart so that we can take some of the terrorvoles for processing. That way at least something positive will come from this trip.”
***
