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Demesne 1 - Our Unfortunately Named Protagonist
🕑 Added 2021-02-14 15:36:51 +0000 UTCIn the middle of the rains, they finally finished digging the core for the demesne.
Whisperer Lolilyuri, Lori to most, had been in the midst of fortifying the water break around the settlement, the rain dripping down from wide brim of her pointy leather hat, when one of the children had reached her. The little girl had paused as she'd gotten near, staring at the large beast on the other side of the water break, then at its head a few feet away. Its neck was still venting a little steam.
"Wiz Lori?" the child said. She was thin, though not quite skin and bones yet. Lori remembered her being much more plump when they set off from Covehold Demesne weeks ago. Now her dress hung loose on her. "Lord Rian says you need to come quick, they finally finished digging."
"Give me a little longer," Lori said, sweeping her wire-wrapped staff through the shallow trough of the water break like she was sweeping a broom or an oar, the thin metal strand under her hand warm with her magic. Breathe in, channel the magic through her blood and out her oil and sweat glands into the wire, into the water…
"Lord Rian said you needed to come now," the annoying brat insisted.
"I got the message, now go away before I drown you," Lori said, not looking up from what she was doing. Standing in the wet of the rain was not improving her mood, no matter how much safer it was than being dry.
Alas, the younger generation had no sense of self-preservation. The brat began to tug on the back of her rain coat as if that would get her moving.
Lori let out a large sigh. Fortunately for the child's prospects of being aquatically asphyxiated, she had finished imbuing the waterwisps by then, and they would have enough power to flow for the next day or so before Lori needed to imbue the water again to keep the Iridescence mostly at bay. Enough time to perform the ceremony, especially if there was another rain before the imbuement ran out magic.
"Right, fine," she said, feeling her wet socks squish as she caught her breath. It had been weeks since she'd had socks that were dry longer than an hour. "Come on, where's Rian?"
"Lord Rian," the child corrected.
"He's not a lord," Lori corrected right back. "If he were, he wouldn't be here."
Actually, Lori was fairly sure he was, purely on the evidence of his straight teeth, smooth skin, and his inept but good naturedly enthusiastic approach to manual labor. No one who'd ever actually worked for a living would be that bad at it. He was probably rebelling against his father or seeking his own fortune or some rainbow. Well, not her problem. He'd obviously never studied ancient history or ever done any real politics. If he actually had, he was smarter than he looked. Though that wasn't hard, since he often looked like a fool.
She followed the little girl back to the settlement, traditionally nameless until it had a demesne and Dungeon to protect it from the Iridescence. The settlement had over a hundred people left, mostly living in crude shelters of canvas and what little wood and metal rods they'd been able to bring, since the wood from the local trees were still iridiated. They had set out with three hundred people and over 70 families. Fifteen families, or what was left of them, as well as a few lone opportunists lured in by the promise of untapped resources, and yes, she included the probably-lord in that category. Lori was one of them herself, here for the chance to lay claim to her own Dungeon, and the power that came with it.
Right now though, she had to tramp through wet mud that still occasionally faintly flickered in different colors. The sight of it made her shiver, even if it was just harmless trace elements already dissolved by the water.
The foundation of the demesne had been dug at the base of the stone cliff the settlement planned to eventually put their tower on, but would for now act to protect the settlement on one side, with a river for water nearby. They'd very quickly recalled the importance of water when you were without a demesne to protect you. The cliff had a natural cave at the foot of it, situated such that water did not flood in when it rained, which made it ideal for digging. Fortunately, there had been no iridiated beasts sheltering in it when they found it, so Lori had been able to call waterwisps to blast out the surface Iridescence on the rock and dirt so that people could start building the foundation for the Dungeon.
The next rain had resulted in beasts seeking the shelter of the cave in droves. They had prepared for it to happen, but had still lost over thirty settlers to lasting injury and ten to death before the rain had washed out enough of the Iridescence to render the beasts attacking them in too much pain to attack. When the rains had stopped, they'd been able to butcher the now-clean animals that had still been alive for meat. The settlers had made a celebration out of it, the first wild beast meat in months, or even years in some cases. For many of them, it had been the first meat they had ever tasted that hadn't lived all its short life in water. The meat had been good. No one had ended up becoming iridiated over the next few days. That was even better.
People had still died anyway, lingering in pain, the settlement's few medical supplies unable to save them. Some had iridiated, their wounds tainted from the beasts teeth and claws. They'd been given the mercy of death, their bones set aside to make undead when the Dungeon was finished.
Now though, with a place for her to start building a Dungeon to anchor their demesne, that could all start to change. They'd finally have a safe area to build, a place to farm and harvest that wouldn't taint them just by standing in it. They'd finally be able to use their barrels and buckets and water casks to drink instead of just washing away the Iridescence, they'd finally have a place to call their own without the crushing laws of the old continent that they'd left behind. If she did this right, Lori certainly would. Unless someone had been holding out to a truly suicidal degree, Lori was the only wizard within 25 taums. 30 taums if she was lucky; there'd been a lot of wizards on the ship she'd been on, with more in the other ships that had also set out. Her own ship had left the old continent as one of seven. The settlement itself had set off with three wizards: Lori, another Whisperer who'd seemed another noble playing at being incognito judging by how her nose had been raised so high she had probably been looking out at the world through her nostrils, and a Deadspeaker who'd been nice enough and whose undead beasts had drawn what few wagons the settlers had. Both were dead now (though Lori hadn't killed them).
She'd made sure their remains had been set aside with care. Their help had gotten them alive this far, and it was thanks to the Deadspeaker's undead and the stone wheels she and the other Whisperer had crafted that their group of settlers were able to travel farther inland than they otherwise would have been able to. She'll be sure to make them into fine undead for her Dungeon. It was the least she could do.
She'd also called first pick of their belongings, and now she had all sorts of useful tools. Some she wouldn't be able to use until she had a Dungeon, but that was true of a lot of things she owned.
These and other happy thoughts managed to keep her occupied as they made their way towards the cliff face. Men were throwing buckets of water inside to wash out the Iridescence that was starting to grow again. Well, at least they were no longer wasting it by throwing water everywhere that shone of many colors. That was either restraint or growing self-destructive apathy. She'd told them it was moving water that wore away Iridescence, not just getting something wet, but no, old superstitions about water protecting you from being iridiated knew more than the wizard who actually knew what she was talking about, and it was easier to do. Lori was surprised no one was actually standing in– no, she'd thought that too soon, there was someone standing with a foot each in a bucket of water, never mind the rain would keep him safe.
Ah, these people who would be the one to settle this land. The common clay of this new demesne. Why did they all have to be morons?
Speaking of morons, probably-lord Rian was striding to meet them. And that was definitely striding, a confident, proud step that probably looked very impressive in the paved streets of the cities but was pretty much a slipping hazard in– and he'd slipped and landed on his ass. There was a round of chuckles as he scrambled to his feet, looking chagrined, and a nearby man gave some 'helpful' advice cautioning him about being careful how he walked.
Rian had the self-satisfied eyes of someone who'd deliberately made a fool of himself just to get a laugh, probably to help raise morale or something. Lori thought morale would be better raised by everyone knowing the closest thing to a leader the settlement had right then was actually competent and careful, but what did she know? No, clearly he had to slip and do pratfalls. Ugh, no wonder he was here, probably-a-lord or not. The other lords were probably well rid of him.
"So, you're done?" she said briskly, leaning on her staff. After standing all day, her feet were killing her.
"All done, Whisperer Lori," he said, using her official title. "Broke the rock down as you specified and leveled it as best we could with the tools we had. You softening the rock really helped, it was like digging clay. We gave the inside a good wash too, so there shouldn't be any Iridescence. The rest is up to you." He smiled at her, a confident, trusting smile that made her want to roll her eyes. But no, he'd been polite and even used her official title, so that would be rude.
"Thank you," she said. "Then I'll get the things I need and get started."
As it was her tent wasn't that far from the cave. After all, she needed to be nearby to supervise and make sure things weren't going toowrong and she needed to blast the cave with water in the mornings to destroy any Iridescence that had built up while they were asleep. A days' growth usually wasn't too dangerous, but it was better to be safe when it came to her Dungeon.
She could feel the intent gazes as she knelt down to get her pack, the one she'd half-melted into the ground under the canvass tent she shared with two other women, to keep from it being stolen or otherwise tampered with. Never mind that anyone messing with someone else's things would probably result in a lynching, she didn't trust these superstitious idiots not to go through her things in hopes of getting who knew what like this was some kind of bedtime story. She'd used to carry the pack around with her until she had tired of how heavy it was.
She took a breath, breathing in magic around her in the familiar exercise before channeling the power through her bones and out through her fingernails, into the hardened rock trapping her pack. The earthwisps there responded readily, having grown familiar with the taste of her magic, and they swiftly loosened the earth around her pack, making it flow like fine sand. She pulled it out, the stone flowing around it. Lori hefted her pack in her arms, then hesitated. Then she reached down into the still flowing earth and called the wisps in it to her as she drew out a small portion of the ground, pulling it up like clay, forming it into a ball her hands. The ground hardened again as her magic was consumed by the earthwisps, the part in her hands solidifying into stone even as the wisps that had responded to her call grew still, compressed into rock.
Straightening, she picked up her staff, pretending not to see the ones who'd been eyeing it.
"I'll need about a day to complete the ritual," Lori said as she slung her trusty pack over her back. "Make sure I'm not interrupted, not even for food. If there's another attack, you'll have to deal with it yourselves, because if I stop I'll have to start all over again."
"Understood, Whisperer Lori," Rian said, an almost comical determined look in his eyes. "Don't worry, I know how important this is for the settlement. Do what you have to do to keep us safe, and we'll keep you safe while you do it."
If anyone else had said it, the words would just have been trite and corny. For some reason when he said it, men that Lori knew had been eyeing her staff– likely believing those silly superstitions and stories about how taking a wizard's staff put them in your power– nodded in solemn agreement and looked determined, some hefting their tools.
"That's nice," Lori said. "Oh, could you butcher that beast I killed, just beyond the water break? Best not to waste any meat, the rain will be able to wash out any iridiation still in its muscles. The girl can show you where it is."
They'd probably have said the same thing for either of the two idiots who'd gotten themselves killed, Lori reminded herself. They didn't actually like her or trust her, they just wanted safety. Well, she'd give it to them.
