DearSpellbook
patreon
Chapter 71: Duldrums
🕑 Added 2024-02-26 12:20:47 +0000 UTCHere lies a king, broken of heart and of spirit.
With power over all, he presumed his dominion expanded over time itself.
When mortal trifle with what even gods avoid, only tragedy can follow.
To glimpse the future is to look upon a mountain through a keyhole.
-Prologue of the Keyhole of Time
—
Kole stared at the gem in his hand, mind racing as to how it got there.
Did Gus sneak this into my bag? Amara? No...
He was certain he’d returned the gem to Amara and left right after. It definitely hadn’t been in his bag as he’d entered the dungeon.
“I asked for it…” Kole said to himself.
“Ye sure did, now shut it!” Rakin moaned.
“No, Rakin wake up!” Kole said, getting the dwarf’s full attention. “Look at this!”
Rakin rose groggily, sensing something in Kole’s tone that pushed away his typical surly nature.
“That’s a fine cut gem,” He said, examining it with an expert eye. “Where’d you get it?”
“It’s from the crafting college. It has the rune intent for the repair function on my blasting rod. But, I left it in the crafting college. I’m certain.”
Rakin thought about it for a moment.
“You asked for it?”
Kole nodded.
“And it you found it right after?”
Kole nodded again.
“I want more seasickness potions,” Rakin said, looking up at the ceiling expectantly.
When nothing happened he muttered a curse and then said, “It was worth a shot. I think the Dahn gave that to you.”
“The Dahn? But…” Kole trailed off before coming to a revelation. “The dungeon is the Dahn.”
Now it was Rakin’s turn to nod.
“Where in the crafting college did you leave the gem?”
Kole described the room he’d found Amara in and Rakin nodded more emphatically.
“That part of the college is actually in the Dahn. For some reason, the school brought this to you.”
“It can do that?” Kole asked, even though it very clearly could.
Rakin stared at Kole as if he were an idiot.
“The Dahn conjured world, complete with living, thinking, beings, and no matter how long we spend here, five minutes will pass outside, and any injuries we experience will disappear while any physical gains will remain. And yer surprised it could move a wee little gem from a room to your bag?”
Kole was actually more surprised that the Dahn had paid enough attention to him to move the gem, not the fact that it moved the gem itself, but he didn’t think Rakin would care about the distinction. Instead, he asked another question.
“Have you heard of it doing this before? In the dungeon I mean?”
“No,” Rakin said without having to think about it. “In fact, previous attempts to teleport items into the dungeon have failed. We should talk to Zale about this.”
Kole agreed, and he moved to leave their bunks. Rakin went to follow him, but stumbled after a step and lost his balance.
The dwarf had regained some of his vigor at the discovery, but his body was still suffering. After some more cursing and help from Kole, they made their way to the deck where Zale was helping prepare for the night’s events.
“I’ve never heard of anything like this,” Zale said, examining the gem with amazement, after Kole had explained.
“Actually,” Kole said, recalling something. “In the arctic circle. My spellbook was in my bag, but I was fairly certain it wasn’t there when I’d entered.”
“Are you sure?” Zale pressed.
“Pretty sure..”
“Well, even if we discount that, there’s definitely a pattern of the Dahn taking notice of you,” she said.
“A pattern?”
“Yeah. The goblin-rats appeared near you, and you found that door to the ice people,” Zale said, listing things off on her fingers. “Then, when Rakin was hurt, a door appeared to my mom’s studio. Now the spellbook and the gem.”
“And you think it’s all connected?” Kole asked. “Are all the attacks my fault somehow?”
His mind raced, trying to think if he’d done anything that could have possibly caused it, but then he laughed at himself.
What could I have done to cause cross-dimensional incursions in an artifact of the Dahn’s power?
“No…” Zale said, confused by his laughter. “But, I think the Dahn is… I don’t know. Giving you training opportunities? Preparing you for something?”
“I’m being tutored by a sapient school?” Kole asked, “If so, I think I have some complaints about its methods.”
Zale shrugged.
“I’m just guessing. But—“ Zale began but Kole interrupted her.
“Your uncle might know.”
Zale’s skin darkened in a blush, and she smiled.
“Yeah.”
They talked it over a little longer but began eventually talking in circles. Ultimately, they were just guessing, but they were fairly certain the school had noticed Kole. They were unsure whether or not the events surrounding him were caused for him, or if the school was simply tweaking the events to give Kole opportunities, but Kole had decided not to let them go to waste.
He was eager to go back to his desk and study the gem, but the crew had begun to gather in preparation for the night’s battle.
Oh yeah… Kole thought.
In all the excitement, he’d forgotten about the whole “constant threat of doom” situation he was in.
They joined the crew for a light dinner and afterward, they set out to their stations in preparation for the assault
***
Kole stood high in the rigging, scanning the sea around the ship in anticipation. The captain had navigated them to a shallow region and they’d weighed anchor just before dark and sent the ship’s light boats out to float around, each equipped with lanterns in their beds and light runes inscribed on their bottoms, illuminating the sea and sky.
The ship had a runesmith, charged with maintaining the runes required to keep a modern ship functioning, and placing light runes on the bottom of a lifeboat was within his skills, though he cautioned them all they’d not last the night.
Kole scanned the sea with a looking glass, checking each pocket of light for signs of attack. He fought the the urge to examine his vault as he stayed vigilant.
His eyes caught a flicker of a shadow beneath a boat.
“Attack!” He yelled as he activated the alarm and then turned invisible.
He’d been tasked with the lookout, not because of any ocular gifts he might have—in fact, many of the sailors had Blessings from Riloth and other patron gods of sailors that made their vision far superior to his own.
No, the reason Kole was on the lookout was for his ability to climb down the rigging without getting swarmed by the cloakers. He was halfway down the fifty-foot descent when the leathery-winged creatures filled the air around him. While the monsters couldn’t see him, he feared they could hear the pounding of his heart as the adrenaline coursed through him. He’d volunteered for the duty confident he’d be safe, but that confidence did little to stem the terror of the moment.
Ranged attacks filled the air as he reached the ground, all the sailors and adventurer’s taking pains to not fire toward the central mast. The sound of flapping wings and curses of men filled the air, growing louder as Kole descended. The cloakers made no sounds, even in death, besides that of their flight.
As soon as Kole’s feet hit the deck, Zale called out a signal.
“Clear!”
All the ranged attacks halted, and the wind around them stilled before picking up again, only this time blowing down towards the deck.
The ship’s wizard, only able to cast a handful of spells, was quite adapt at those few. The spell normally meant to push the ship through the seas when the winds were weak, now blew down upon the deck at ten times its normal force. The cloakers’ wings stilled comically as they fell out of the sky like stones, only Kole had never seen a stone fall as quickly as the monsters did.
The gust only lasted a moment, but the crew stood ready, Kole included. They descended on the stunned creatures with swords, axes, and clubs, and they slew dozens of them in moments. Those that had survived the downdraft made half-hearted attacks as the crews, but the archers kept them at bay.
Silence fell over the deck after the brief slaughter, before someone let out a cheer. The cloakers had fled—for the moment. The crew got to work cleaning up the deck. They threw the bodies overboard and scrubbed the slick blood clean while the adventurers and more skilled combatants of the crew stood watch around the deck.
There was silence for a few hours, but then the lights of the lifeboats began to wink out one by one. Kole, who’d returned to the lookout, climbed down quickly to report the occurrence, but everyone below already knew.
“Attack!” a sailor shouted from the bow, but followed it with a scream as he was set upon by three cloakers.
Everyone fell into their groups to prepare for the next round. Despite the slaughter of the first assault, the number of enemies seemed undiminished. They continued on into the night. The wizard only had two more wind spells in him that night, and the cloakers had learned to avoid the spell, flying high and spread out, relying more on ambushes than on overwhelming swarms to catch their prey.
Kole did good work with his ambushes from invisibility, but after a few attempts, he decided to save his Will. He had just enough left for a Magic Missile, and the unerring accuracy of the spell could save a life.
The opportunity to use the spell never came though. The waves continued through the night, and the crew fended each off with limited casualties.
When the first rays of sun peaked over the horizon, and no attack had come in half an hour, the crew let out an exhausted cheer. The skeleton crew of the day shift came up on deck and urged the combatants to rest as they set to work readying the ship for sailing
***
Kole woke hours later, Will restored, but still not fully recovered from the night’s battle. Throughout the battle, he’d longed for the blasting rod, but not let himself use it, lest he destroy it. Now, he drew the emerald from its place at the bottom of his bag, clutched it in his hand, and entered his mental vault to get to work at mastering the rune intent needed to power the repair runes on the rod.
A grind defined his progress best. He’d originally feared the task of mastering the complex rune beyond him, but even in his failures, he’d gained hope. When he fumbled and the template fell apart in his mind, it was always because he rushed, never because the work itself was beyond him. So, he stilled himself, marshaled his patience, and began to meticulously copy the rune, one construct at a time.
***
Rakin pulled Kole out of his study hours later by placing a hand on Kole’s shoulder to alert him without disrupting his focus. As rude as the dwarf could be, he would never let his attitude get in the way of the party’s safety—or at least, Kole thought Rakin strived for that level of control. There were of course the times when the dwarf’s anger and desperation took over and he turned into a fiery monster of death, but so far that had worked out surprisingly well for them.
Kole felt the hand and gave up on the piece he’d just begun, not finding it worth continuing. As his attention came back fully to his body, he realized how hungry he’d become.
“What time is it?” Kole asked the dwarf, who was looking better than he had the day before.
The threat of battle, it seemed, was doing good in the Rakin’s fight against the sea.
“You have about ten minutes to eat before we get to our stations.”
***
That night went much the same as the one before. Only the cloakers started weary of the wizard’s spell. The crew saw more casualties, but they made it through the night and began to plan for ways to better their positions.
Each night, Kole and his friends passed out after battle, only to wake up and get right to work. Kole focused on studying, prioritizing the rune work but still forcing himself to work on his spells a bit each day. He made steady progress on them all, chipping away at the rune intent for the rod, piecing together a new version of Shield, and fumbling blindly about in the Arcane Realm on Thunderwave.
Rakin made progress of his own. Finally, the control of his body’s ki surpassed his dwarven-born incompatibility with ship life and his seasickness became entirely manageable.
Zale spent most of her time split between training, and brainstorming plans to help each night. After a few days, she forced Kole to join them on each deck for at least a half hour each day.
“You’ll turn into a wet noodle if you spend all day studying!” she scolded him.
Which Kole thought was a bit of an exaggeration. He was spending each night loading and firing a crossbow broken up by chopping fallen monsters to bits with an ax.
In all the struggling Doug discovered a new ability. Arrows had quickly become a dwindling resource. The ship had been prepared for some level of attacks, but not this many. A large portion of the crew had been assigned to making arrows and bolts from whatever they could scavenge from the ship. Doug was also fairly skilled at making arrows already but after hours of splitting barrels and crates into blanks and then shaving those into dowels to serve as arrow shafts he was struck by inspiration as he observed Rakin molding the small amount of stone he’d brought with, using his earth primal abilities.
Doug scoured the ship’s stores, listening to each crate barrel and eventually the walls of the ship itself until he found what he was looking for.
“Here!” she shouted excitedly to a group of curious sailors that had begun to follow them. He was pointing to one of the defensive walls built at the front of the ship to serve as protection for ship-to-ship combat.
Without asking, Doug touched the wood and pulled a chunk off the side like he was pulling a bit of dough out of a larger mass. He then pulled it and it lengthened into a perfect arrow shaft.
“This wood is fresh,” Doug explained to Kole and the rest of the group as the commotion drew their attention. “It still has a trickle of Assuine’s power in it, and I can use that to shape it.”
The crew had protested at first but relented when they saw the ease with which he was pulling arrows out of the side of the ship.
The wood of that particular section of the ship was a temporary repair done by the crew itself recently after an attack, and they hadn’t had the chance to replace it with properly seasoned wood.
Collectively, the group would gather to discuss plans for better defenses. Whether it was an aspect of the dungeon, or the crew was simply slow, others seemed loathe to suggest strategies, so it was up to the four young students.
Weeks passed, attacks coming each night. The cloaker attacks never lessened in intensity. The intelligent yet suicidal monsters identified the ship’s wizard as the source of the killing wind near the end of the first week, and they opened an attack one night with an all-out assault. The wizard survived, but barely, and he was confined to the ship’s infirmary.
This forced the students to develop a new strategy. They instructed the crews to rig sail cloths and nets up on the masts, ready to be pulled down on the monsters.
The first night with the nets they killed more monsters than in any battle prior, but the next night the cloakers attacked the rolled-up sails, tearing them to shreds. Sailing slowed after that, as the crew had to scramble to repair the sails, and then spend time each day stowing them on deck to protect them. They kept up the net assaults, but all the spare sail cloth was needed if they were ever to reach their destination. With the loss of the wind wizard’s aid, the damage to the sails, and the time they lost each day setting them up and taking them down, their original four-week voyage was expected to take eight.
As they traveled, they attacks continued, each side altering tactics, but neither significantly changing the results. The ship and its defenders had the upper hand, with ranged weapons and magic, but the cloakers had seemingly unending numbers. Rarely was a crew member successfully taken overboard, and most of the casualties had just been wounded, and soon they were able to reenter the rotation.
Fatigue was the real enemy. The cloakers game, fresh each night, but the sailors were being worn down in spirit if not in body. At Kole’s suggestion, they ship tried fielding smaller crews, feeling out if the cloakers would swarm and overwhelm them. The attackers had grown more cautious after the attacks with the wizard and sails, and no longer committed in such overwhelming force. The first night with a crew reduced by a third, they had the crew on hand below deck ready to surface if the cloakers resorted to attacking the ship once more, or the defenders couldn’t hold. But to everyone’s relief, those on duty held and rotations were established, giving everyone a night off every third day.
In the fourth week, Kole finally completed copying the rune intent into his vault, running up on deck in the middle of the day shouting.
“I did it!” he said, holding his blasting rod above his head in triumph.
“Finally,” Rakin said with a sigh.
By then, the dwarf had completely fought off his seasickness and had returned to training, even finding time to work on developing his soul stone Tallen had assigned him. Doug too had begun work on his in-between building and repairing arrows.
“That’s great!” Zale said, smacking Rakin on the leg with the flat of her rapier.
“Ow!”
It cost Kole 10 Will to repair the rod, and each shot took 4. He judged that his Will capacity had increased at some point recently—whether it was on this journey, or his stay in the arctic circle he couldn’t tell—and he now had 46, an absolutely massive amount for a wizard of his age.
That night, Kole felt renewed vigor as he blasted cloakers from the sky. His weapon wasn’t any more lethal than a bow or crossbow, but he could fire the rod with greater speed and accuracy and could do so from within a group of his friends without fear of striking them by mistake. His newly regained offensive power got to his head though, and Kole exposed himself as he ran to finish off a downed cloaker with the small ax he kept on his belt at all times.
“Down!” Doug yelled at Kole as he spotted the ambush Kole missed.
Kole dove, rolling to face his unseen attacker. He lifted his hand and spoke the words of Shield.
“Roh-ka”
A faint translucent barrier appeared above him has he lay on the deck just in time for a cloaker to crash into it. The monster was stunned but its soft fleshy target suddenly becoming an impenetrable dome, just long enough for Kole to swing at it with his small ax.
Covered in the blood of the cloaker, Kole retreated to the safety of Zale and Rakin’s weapons.
“Maybe I’m getting too cocky,” he said between pants as he recovered his breath.
***
The fourth week saw more than just Kole’s new martial potential. More shortages arose.
The boats could no longer sustain the runes that they used to illuminate the sea. Runes were destructive, the energy coursing through them weakening the material they were placed in, and wood was a poor medium for the craft. The boats only lasted this long because each day the ships carpenters and the runesmith would shaved off the old runes, and re-carve them. Eventually, the boats’ hulls could take it no more, and they began sank beneath the waves, one by one each night. The considered running barrels to replace them, but each boat had taken an expensive gem to store Will and power the runes, and those were better used to illuminate the deck itself than throw into the sea.
When the crew ran out of metal they could safely fashion into arrowheads without the ship completely falling apart, Rakin directed the crew to rip up the floor on the lowest deck to get to the massive blocks of stone that served as the ship’s ballast. He used his primal magic to mold the blocks into stone arrowheads, sticking the arrow shafts into the end to secure them as if he were pushing meat onto a skewer.
Food grew scarce as they neared the end of their expected time at sea. The ship had prepared enough for potential delays, but the nightly battles increased the appetites of the men, and rationing was a distant second thought to the demands of hungry men fighting each night for their lives. The cloakers kept any potential fish away from the ship, but the crew found that cloakers themselves were okay eating.
Through it all, Kole and his friends pressed on. Part of them knew this wasn’t real, that they could simply raise their hands and give up to get out of the toil, but each of them had their own reasons to stick it out.
Once he’d conquered the sea sickness, Rakin was a dwarf transformed. He reveled in the battle each night, taking out his frustrations on any cloaker that flew in range of his weapons or fists.
Doug marveled at the sea. Each spare moment he had, he spent staring out into the endless expanse. Kole had been amazed by the sight for a few days on the Willowboom, but looking at Doug’s reverence, he felt like he was missing something.
Kole stood next to him from time to time, squinting out towards the horizon, but he never saw it.
Zale loved the experience, despite the trials. Each meal found her encouraging the crew and her friends. She’d made a name for herself in the nightly battles and daily planning, and a word of compliment or encouragement from her would straighten even the most weary sailor.
For Kole, the extra time to work on his spells was invaluable. Once he completed his rune, he dove headfirst into developing a new shield.
Kole had had occasion to cast Magic Missile during a few battles, and he’d found each cloaker could only take a single bolt from the spell before crashing into the deck. Through practice, he learned to send the bolts at multiple targets. While a single cast of the spell cost the same as five blasts of the rod, it was three simultaneous and nearly guaranteed kills Kole quickly added to his arsenal each night.
By the sixth week, he’d completed his next version of Shield, having reduced the cost from 25 Will to 21, but still progress for Thunderwave was slow.
And then, on the first night of the seventh week, no attack came. The crew stayed alert, on edge the whole of the night, but even the waves were placid, lazily lapping against the ship as it drifted through the sea.
When the sun rose the next morning, they all broke out in cries of joy and cheer.
Kole looked around the deck expectantly for the door to the Dahn to appear and it was because of this he was the first to spot it.
The black tail of a cloaker, as thick around as Kole’s waist snaked over the diminished bow wall and onto the deck, pulling a celebrating adventurer overboard, only for the man to reappear a moment later, pierced on the sword-sized teeth of the giant cloaker climbing onto the deck.
“Attack!” he shouted, but there was no need, the screams of the sailor had been alert enough.
