Edwin M. Griffiths
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The Newt and Demon - Book 5 Chapters 13,14,15
🕑 Added 2024-01-05 12:00:06 +0000 UTCChapter 13
The Moon Landing
The soccer—football—whatever game went on for hours. Theo was horrible at the game, finding himself at a loss for where he should stand. Belgar was a natural. He did all the impressive sports things, even if the alchemist didn’t know what they were called. Of course, the souls within the realm had been playing the game for almost a year. And they weren’t playing with standard rules.
Salire and Theo sat in a chair by the sidelines, watching the souls play their game. Benton joined them shortly after, panting and short of breath.
“It’s good for the soul,” Benton said, gasping for air. “I think.”
The barrels of [Greater Hallow the Soil] were aging near the stream. Theo had put off contacting Uharis and Sulvan for as long as he could, but the hours were passing quicker than he expected. He stood, feeling inspired by the selfless care of Glantheir.
“Be right back.” Theo vanished, warping himself to some distant place in Tero’gal. He stood by the sea, and was quick to tip his toes in the water. This time, he remembered to put his shoes into his inventory.
If connections made communication across dimensions simple, Theo would find contacting Uharis an effortless task. He stood in the water, watching as the waves lapped over his feet. Push and pull. Ebb and flow. Like the power of the realm itself, the waves pushed and pulled. The alchemist held onto whatever strands of power he could find. He imagined them as threads, and gathered them with his willpower. Those connections he held with so many people lit up in his mind, but he focused on the former members of the Cult of the Burning Eye.
The scene on the beach faded, replaced by a stretch of desolate nothing. Black stone underfoot, Theo stared at the disheveled forms of Uharis and Sulvan. They turned to regard him with hate and confusion.
“Do you know how difficult that spell was?” Uharis snapped.
“Feels pretty easy to me,” Theo said, looking around the black moon of Antalis.
“He’s not really here,” Sulvan muttered, his voice as gravely as ever.
Uharis sputtered, whipping his long white beard over his shoulder. “You’re a mockery! Of everything I studied. Every moment I spent pouring over musty books. Wasted!”
“Pull yourself together,” Sulvan muttered. “He’s here, isn’t he?”
“No hard feelings, right?” Theo asked. He didn’t want to seem arrogant. But he couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across his face. “Your foul god is dead. Mine isn’t.”
“Oh, laugh it up, you insufferable outworlder. Did you travel through space and time just to mock us?”
Theo looked around the surface of Antalis. He nodded to himself. Time was moving slower here than it should have. Instead of reaching out to project himself onto the moon, he had projected a bubble of his realm. Uharis and Sulvan were standing in that bubble.
“It would be more accurate to say that I bent time and space,” Theo said, nodding to himself more fervently. “That makes more sense.”
Uharis groaned, preparing to dispense another barrage of insults. Sulvan drove his fist into the wizard’s stomach, sending him doubling over.
“Forgive us, Master of Tero’gal,” Sulvan said, taking a knee. Uharis lost the contents of his stomach. “We’ll renounce our bond with the Burning Eye. In the most absolute of terms.”
“Not sure why I knew you would be the reasonable one, Sulvan.” Theo watched Uharis squirm on the ground. He would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. “You wanted to purge the world of evil? How would you like to be a Paladin of Glantheir?”
Sulvan raised a single eyebrow. “Would he accept us? The Eye and the Healer were natural enemies.”
“I’m sure he’ll bind you in contracts until you can’t breathe.”
“I accept.”
“I don’t!” Uharis coughed from his prone position. “I won’t accept anything from you, bastard!”
Electricity tingled in the air. Uharis must have had another mage’s core in his chest, because he tossed a bolt of lightning. It passed harmlessly through Theo, arching off into the distance. The moment it left the bubble of influence, it froze in the air.
“Guess this is an extension of my realm. Which means my authority is absolute. Kneel.”
Uharis’s face slammed into the hard rock of the moon. He sputtered and gasped under the authority of the command. Sulvan didn’t even flinch, eyes locked on the alchemist.
“I pledge myself to the Elven God of Healing absolutely,” Sulvan said. “And I will atone for everything I have done. No matter the cost.”
Uharis tried to draw in breath, only wheezing in the process.
“I’ll tell the big man that you’re ready. If Uharis is prepared by the time Glantheir accepts you, he can come along. See ya soon.”
Theo felt a prickle of something crawl up his neck, then tingle the back of his skull. The sound of the beach returned in an instant, and he drew a deep breath of salty sea air in. Sweat had formed on his brow while he was gone. The alchemist dabbed it off, then warped space around himself once again. He appeared in the village of the spirits. They were still playing their game. Benton had a concerned look on his face.
“Not sure what that was,” the bear god said.
“Petty revenge,” Theo said, taking a seat alongside Benton and Salire. “Uharis Banetouched was an asshole. Sulvan Flametouched, on the other hand, was pretty nice about the situation.”
“Nasty people,” Salire said, shaking her head. “Where are they?”
“The moon. The dark one. Just hanging out with moon people, I guess.”
Benton frowned. “Are there people on the moon?”
“Thought I saw a city in the distance,” Theo said, recalling his memory of the surface with perfect clarity. “Or mountains.”
“Either or,” Salire laughed. “Just an entire civilization living on the moon or mountains. No big deal.”
The group had a good laugh. While it was fun watching the people play soccer, their time in the realm was drawing to a close. Theo bid farewell to the spirits and Benton before grabbing Salire’s arm. They fell through the fabric of reality, landing on the Bridge before heading back to the mortal realm.
“Got a message for you,” Theo said, waiting for the shadows to pool. Uz’Xulven stepped out of the darkness in time, and he relayed his message to her. Sulvan was ready to work for Glantheir, while Uharis wasn’t. The alchemist left the Bridge without feeling the slightest guilt. It wasn’t his problem to make people do the right thing.
After what felt like the journey of a lifetime, Theo felt his feet hit mortal ground. Salire maintained a constant look of overwhelmed awe. The alchemist felt Tresk’s intentions before she appeared from the shadows. She burst forth, hands on her hips.
“Why do I feel lighter and more joyful? Anyone got a puppy I could hug?”
“No puppies here,” Salire said, laughing nervously. “We met Glantheir and… and Theo went to the moon.”
“Aw man. Did I miss the moon landing?”
“Yeah. Don’t worry, it sucked.” Theo found a chair for Salire to sit on, and forced her to rest. This wasn’t something that potions could fix. She needed time to process what she saw.
Tresk concentrated for only a moment, and Theo felt her brush her senses against his. She was searching his memory for what had happened, rather than asking for a retelling of the day’s events.
“Looks like the old elf god unblocked your chi,” Tresk said. She nodded, whipping an imaginary beard to the side. “How honorable. When do we cultivate?”
“What are you talking about?” Theo asked with a scoff.
“I feel unburdened by the past. Suddenly, I have a need to ascend.”
Theo chuckled, watching as the little marshling performed her interpretation of martial arts moves. She was pretty good, even if she was just making stuff up. After a while she got tired and sat down on the ground. The alchemist felt her fall back into her thoughts, replaying different things in her mind. Whatever Glantheir had done was a boon beyond anything he could imagine. Tresk was right. There was a lightness to his thoughts that he could have never imagined before.
On Theo’s mental checklist of things that needed to be done, there were too many items. Throk’s new method of collecting power was big. He was also on the heels of airship technology, which would be interesting. That left an item for the alchemist to accomplish. Warding against unwanted magical attacks. He also needed to plan for the celebration in Rivers and Daub, but that mostly fell to the administration. Xol’sa’s [Intelligence of the Soul] potion was brewing with Tero’gal, and would be ready soon enough.
“Research time,” Theo said, gathering a few things. “You staying here, Salire?”
Salire nodded weakly. “I just need some time.”
Theo scratched his chin for a moment, then nodded. “Coming, Tresk?”
“Yeah. Let’s go experiment with junk!”
As Theo exited the building, he stopped on the streets of Broken Tusk. “Rowan?”
The half-ogre man emerged from nowhere. “Yes?”
“Give Salire something to do. An emergency that requires alchemy. She needs a distraction.”
“Certainly,” Rowan said, vanishing yet again.
Theo headed north, toward Ziz’s quarry. The areas north of the town proper offered the most silence. His stroll was interrupted when Tresk grabbed at his coat, climbing up him like a tree until she perched herself on his shoulders.
“Onward, mighty steed!”
Tresk was lighter than Theo had expected, so he simply moved forward. It didn’t hurt that her balance was insane.
“I should make you a [Wisdom of Dexterity] potion,” Theo said. “Although I’m unsure what it’ll do.”
“Yeah. Give me the fancy potions. I’ll drink them all.”
Ziz and the boys were carving stones at their quarry. They offered hearty greetings and barrels full of mead. Theo and Tresk declined, finding a comfortable spot where they could observe the town below and work on their problem. They started by sharing their thoughts on the whole Glantheir thing. Both agreed that he was the patron that suited the ex-members of the Burning Eye the best.
“What better way to reform people than to force them to be good!”
Theo was at a point where he could take any property he knew from alchemy, and translate that to a ward. Even with the ability that helped feed wards for longer, he would need to constantly reapply them for an airship to operate. Tresk helped him go over his list of properties, and they were both disappointed when they found the solution.
“Feels like you put Mage’s Bane in everything,” Tresk grumbled.
The first property on the Mage’s Bane flower was [Resist Magic]. Theo had never distilled the flower into essence to extract that property, always preferring to ferment the flower as a modifier instead.
“Let’s see,” Theo said, writing a poem in Toru’aun’s flowery script. “I’m not happy using the [Detect Attack] trigger for the wards.”
Tresk nodded, plucking a piece of grass from the ground. She wedged it between her two thumbs and attempted to blow. No sound came out, despite her intentions.
“What do you think about a trigger that works by activating when magical interference happens?”
Tresk leaned back, tossing her blade of grass to the side. “I like it.”
Theo paused before writing anything else. “Shouldn’t you be in the dungeon?”
“Yeah. It’s kinda crowded, though.”
Turning back to his work on the paper, Theo came up with an approach. He came up with the [Detect Adverse Magic] trigger, which should only deploy the ward when it senses damaging magical energies affecting the thing it was bound to. Simple enough, as long as it worked. The problem was that the alchemist didn’t fully understand the way latent magic would interfere with the artifice hover engines. He warded a nearby rock to inspect the effect.
[Deflect Magic]
[Advanced Ward]
Creates a reactive barrier that impedes all foreign magical energy from entering the bubble.
Trigger:
Detect Adverse Magic
Duration:
5 days.
“That might do it,” Theo said. “Not sure how we can test it, though.”
Tresk shrugged. “Maybe we should take it to Gronro. Give it a real test.”
Theo scratched his chin, unsure if that was good enough. “I think we need to take the entire engine up there. Think your dad will let us borrow it?”
“Why not? For science!”
Theo’s eyes lingered on the fading light of the day. Shafts of foggy sunlight shot over the western horizon, stabbing over the swamp like the constant reminders they were. Time was what the alchemist needed most and had the least of. Even with the Dreamwalk and Tero’gal, he felt behind himself. But since Glantheir had poked his forehead, the march of time seemed less important. He sat on his rock, watching as the evening sun dimmed into twilight. Tresk lingered nearby, sensing the stillness and drinking it in with him.
Theo leaned over the walls of Gronro-Dir. Below was the imagined version of the undead taint. Within the Dreamwalk, he hoped to prove his new ward. Fortunately, Tresk had made a trip to the northern town when the undead were still assaulting it. She had a good enough mental impression of the place to replicate the taint of undeath.
“It sure does stink,” Tresk said, leaning over the wall’s edge. “Did it stink this much when I went there?”
“Perhaps you’re adding extra stink to set the mood,” Alex said.
Field of corpses, in various stages of decomposition, had a way of stinking a place up. With a thought, Theo purged the concept of smell from the Dreamwalk, bringing everyone great relief.
“First stage of testing,” the alchemist said, smiling to himself. There was no better place to test their theories. He created a mana siphon from nowhere. The black box glittered, already interacting with the latent necromantic power in the air. “A low-level power condenser.”
“It’s getting all shiny,” Tresk said, leaning in to inspect the siphon.
Sections of the artifice were sizzling from the raw power in the air. Whatever material the device was made out of reacted poorly. No one was surprised when it exploded, sending shards of itself peppering the area.
“That would have been deadly,” Theo said, picking a large chunk of metal from his skull.
Tresk laid prone on the ground, her tongue sticking out. “Bleh. You’ve killed me.”
“Me too!” Alex put in.
Despite his companions’ behavior, Theo made mental notes of the reaction. From observation, he determined that the influences in the air weren’t just unrefined power. There was refined mana there, turning the churn of influences into a deadly magical mix. It was shocking that any magical devices worked in this area, let alone powerful ones.
“How have Throk’s sprayers been operating out here?”
“Dunno,” Tresk said, imagining one. The sprayer stood near the wall, squirting essence down below.
Theo could feel the reason more than see it. Throk’s sprayer was the simplest artifice that could be created. It had minimal parts and drew almost no power. The sprayers could run for weeks without succumbing to the withering power of undeath. The alchemist tried a few more artifices he had seen, finding the breaking point to be somewhere between the sprayer and the siphon. A hover engine, even at a high altitude, would most certainly be affected.
“That’s our baseline,” Theo said, imagining Throk’s engine. “Now we figure out if this power affects inactive machines.”
Tresk busied herself by summoning other things. She brought in various magical things, starting with items. Normal items weren’t affected by the power. Only things that actively drew power suffered from the necromantic energy. That included devices that pulled power from motes, or Throk’s new fake coins. Interestingly, powerful potions reacted negatively. That was more concerning than anything else.
“Engine has no response when it’s inactive,” Theo said, summoning a coin to fall into his hand. “But when we activate it…”
A moment after inserting the coin, the engine tore itself apart. It exploded in a ball of green flames, decimating most of the wall. The Dreamwalk was stretched to its limits to simulate the response, almost buckling under the pressure.
“Well, we have all our gooses in a row. Heh,” Tresk giggled to herself. “Main event?”
“Time for the main event.”
Theo repaired the damage to the wall, resetting the scene. He summoned a new engine to test, then knelt to chant his spell. The moment he began to chant, he felt the power of undeath swirling around him. It felt like an attack on his cores. The energy welled in the surrounding air, then rushed in. The alchemist only just managed to finish the spell before he was overwhelmed.
“That’s not good.”
Theo took a steadying breath. “No casting in the undead zone. Got it.”
The moment he put a coin into the engine, the prismatic barrier sprung up. The surrounding power assaulted the ward, smashing against the side. Mana sparks fell to the ground, sizzling on the wet stone. But for all the flashing lights, the engine hummed, hovering just above the wall.
“And now the boring part,” Theo said, finding a seat. “We wait to see how long it lasts.”
Chapter 14
Grimelings
The wards had proven more long-lasting than Theo had expected. Surrounding the table in the manor were the usual characters. The alchemist thought about his experimentations as he watched his companions eat breakfast. Xam had outdone herself by making something similar to sausage and eggs. She was even producing Earth-style wheat bread, which was a treat. Xol’sa couldn’t get enough of the bread, slathering a toasted slice with enough karatan butter to stop his heart on the spot.
“Busy schedule today,” Sarisa said, flitting around the table to pass out butter and fill cups with tea. “Aarok wants to do two waves.”
“Thank god.” Theo poked at a pozwa egg. He turned his attention to the sausage, cutting a piece and popping it into his mouth. It was extremely salty, and mildly spicy. “Can’t wait to get that over with.”
The dungeon had been weakened significantly. Between Xol’sa’s efforts to engineer them, and the adventurer’s constant barrage of attacks, the [Hills Dungeon] and [Mountain Dungeon had been removed of their fangs. Broken Tusk would have the pleasure of stomping two waves somewhere around Level 10. All projections claimed it would be a breeze, and Theo was inclined to believe the wizard’s words.
Outside, the haze of early morning fog was burned away by the oppressive sun overhead. The result was humidity so intense, one could cut it with a knife. Theo lingered in his air-conditioned manor for as long as he could, until Rowan pulled him aside.
“I poisoned some children,” the half-ogre said.
Theo blinked several times. “Huh?”
“While you were busy, I poisoned several children. A very mild poison that made them sick.”
Theo pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes shut tightly. “Alright. Sarisa cured it?”
Rowan smiled. “Quickly. Her confidence was boosted afterward.”
“All's well that ends well… I guess? Poison adults next time, please.”
“It was quite mild.”
“Still.”
Rowan nodded.
Theo departed his manor, heading directly for the Newt and Demon. Tresk and Alex were on duty today, so they would be busy. Everyone in the Tara’hek felt lighter, and the alchemist couldn’t help but whistle a tune as he headed to his lab. Salire was there with a wide smile on her face. He gave her a few tasks to manage the lab. His chief concern was the production of more grain alcohol, and its storage in the upgraded tanks of the lab. The half-ogre woman told him the harrowing tale of how she saved seven children yesterday.
“Excellent job,” Theo said, nodding and feigning a smile.
“So, what did Glantheir do to you? What was he talking about when he said he was ‘fleeing…’ What was it?”
“Berlin,” Theo said. He found it odd that his mind didn’t recoil on itself when he thought about that mission. “Things got bad on my world. Populations shrunk to where people crowded in single cities. Entire nations were reduced to mega cities. Everyone was at each other’s throats. So how do you conduct warfare when the enemy can shoot whatever you send right out of the sky?”
“I… really don’t know,” Salire said, chuckling nervously.
“You send a spy who disables the defenses. We planted charges to destroy their weapons. Then boom. An entire nation destroyed in a blink,” Theo snapped his fingers to punctuate his point. “And I guess Glantheir was there. He must have fled with the other refugees to Moscow.”
Salire’s expression shifted, becoming stony. “You were a bad guy?”
“This was… what? Twenty-five, thirty years ago? Anyway, whatever Glantheir did it made me feel like I had never done it. And it feels good.”
“As long as we’re not planning on annihilating another nation.”
“Hmmm.”
Theo had to rationalize the destruction of Qavell. Despite what Glantheir had forgiven him for, the kingdom was filled with innocent people. The only thing that made him feel better was the same thing that made him feel better on Earth. Balkor’s undead were heading west no matter what. Fenian had only sped up their march. The alchemist shook the thoughts out of his mind, turning to smile at his apprentice.
“Glantheir really helped. I’m excited to see what he can do with our help.”
Salire brightened considerably. “He was so nice!”
“I’m going to invite him for tea in my realm the next time I visit. Wanna come?”
“Ah, well. No, thank you.”
After Salire was settled in her task for the day, Theo left to check in with the military. Xol’sa was sitting with Aarok and Luras, discussing the upcoming wave. They were determined to get both waves done today, no matter what. Even if the eastern wall wasn’t completely repaired, they all had a desire to get it over with. While the wizard could have been wrong about the dungeons, it was unlikely. They wouldn’t spawn both waves at once, so it shouldn’t have been a problem, anyway. If something went sideways, they wouldn’t start the next way.
Easy as that.
Theo dodged a meeting with Alise and the administrators, heading directly for Throk’s workshop. The marshling was interested in hearing the results of the testing and had some input. He agreed with most of the alchemist’s points about magical interference, but was surprised to learn how active the power was.
“Could that be an effect of the Dreamwalk?” Throk asked.
“I won’t say ‘no.’” Theo drew on his near-perfect memory to remember the way things interacted in the Dreamwalk. The simulation seemed accurate, but it was hard to tell. “We’re planning on doing a real-world experiment before we give the go-ahead.”
“Bleeds into another problem I’m having.” Throk scratched his head. “These things need to be manned. Floating platforms of death. Who would be willing to ride them?”
“No one, I imagine.” Theo sighed. “Can you control them remotely?”
“Yes. But there are a few problems with that.”
Throk went into a speech about sending artifice signals over long-distance. He had taken a skill that let him control his devices remotely, but the range was short. The more he explained it, the less it made sense to Theo.
“Don’t you do remote reporting with the mote tube system?”
“Yeah, but I send the signal through the tubes themselves,” Throk said with a laugh. “Not exactly the best way, but it works.”
“Can you send a signal through any metal?”
“Yeah, that’s the skill. But I don’t like the image of holding a long rod of copper up in the air. Attached to a floating platform.”
“How about a wire?”
“A long copper wire?” Throk asked, nodding. “That might work. We can braid them together to increase their strength.”
“If that fails,” Theo said, nodding to himself as his thoughts gathered. “We can put a golem on the airship. If we install a lodestone nearby, the range is pretty good.”
“Your golem range might not be as good as a simple braided wire, though. Could they even operate simple controls?”
“Let’s call the golem idea a backup plan, all right?”
“Yeah. Good call.”
Theo and Throk worked on some specifics for a while. They were both confident in the wire, more than the golems. But even then, they would need an operator on the ground to move the device around. The advantages of the wire was that they could minimize the weight of the flying platform. Which meant they could load it up with more potions, increasing the effectiveness of each flight. Their meeting went on until the bells rang. Aarok sent a message to the town, calling everyone to their stations.
“They’re itchy today, huh?” Throk asked, grumbling.
Departing from the artificer’s workshop, Theo reported to the wrong post. While he was certain he was meant to arrive at the southern side of town, he was meant to be on the northern end. Sarisa joined with him as he sprinted, passing by normal folks as he went. Those who couldn’t fight at all were sent to shelters. Those shelters were guarded by teams of adventurers, ensuring that no one would be in danger while the fighting was done.
Ziz’s quarry was buzzing with activity. The wall to the north of the stonecutters' area was filled with adventurers. Theo found his place amongst them, watching as the advanced units sallied outside the gate. The alchemist had never liked the landscape north of town. It was a steep rise of rocky faces and jagged cliffs. The increased elevation did nothing to soothe the heat of the day, making it even worse.
“I love this part,” Sarisa sighed. “The calm before the storm.”
“You might like it less if you were down there.” Theo gestured to the combined forces of Gronro, Rivers, and Broken Tusk below. They assembled in orderly rows, leaving gaps for the jagged crags. The alchemist chanted his wards on the walls, weaving his standard shield alongside a magic-resistant layer.
The sortie from the defensive forces was incredibly successful. The monsters that came from the [Mountain Dungeon] were a kind of troll. Unlike the boss trolls, they seemed to be made of stone. That made their movements slow, rendering them as easy prey for the experienced fighters. What trolls that weren’t destroyed by the extended forces were quickly mopped up by the towers and ranged attackers. It was the single most boring wave Theo had ever experienced.
“This reminds me of the first goblin wave we had,” Theo said, leaning over the wall. He sighed, watching the soldiers below have a fun time with the fight. “We didn’t have towers back then. Or trained fighters.”
“I remember it.” Sarisa’s eyes focused on the middle-distance. Theo could almost feel her going back in time to relive the experience. “Now we can spawn a Level 10 wave without batting an eye.”
“What was Broken Tusk like before I showed up?” Theo asked, watching a troll’s head become separated from its shoulders.
Sairsa offered a weak shrug. “Boring. Nothing really happened. I remember watching a lot of my childhood friends leave when they got their cores. They all left to do something bigger, and I never blamed them.”
Theo flinched as the lightning tower nearby fired an arch of electricity. He spotted the boss shortly after, dismissing the system message that popped up. They were used to fighting troll bosses by this point. The key was to apply fire to any wounds inflicted on the monster, or to douse it in flames. Aarok did both, ordering his people to send firebombs while they kept a safe distance. It was the shortest monster wave the alchemist had ever experienced.
The reward for the monster wave was equally unimpressive. A few gold, and a ring that allowed him to see in the dark, but only when the moon was blue. The alchemist tossed his spoils into his inventory, then joined with the roving band of soldiers. Citizens cheered as the army moved southward, heading for the next dungeon. Xol’sa estimations were correct and without complications, for once. The alchemist met with Tresk and Alex to chat for a while as Aarok prepared for the next wave.
“That was unimpressive,” Tresk grumbled, crossing her arms and frowning.
“Agreed,” Sarisa said. “I was surprised to see that the clearing strategy worked.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem. No one wants to run the [River Dungeon] because it’s underwater.” Tresk let out a frustrated breath. “We’re finally clearing away the [Ocean Dungeon], but only because there’s a weird underwater tower.”
The Adventurer’s Guild even had a bounty on each dungeon. Clearing it would provide a person with money. That incentive had not driven people until the traders from afar began showing up. Now everyone was concerned with getting the latest trinket from Partopour. And so, they were braving the depths of each dungeon to earn some cash. Accessibility was still an issue for the [River Dungeon], but once they had some time that would be solved. The checklist of things to do in Broken Tusk seemed endless.
Theo smiled as he watched the armies assemble. Compared to the mountainous region of the north, the hills to the south were more forgiving. The alchemist greeted Gridgen and his workers as they passed by. While the mine had seen more activity in recent days, they were hard workers who kept their heads down and got the job done. Only the leader of the mining team came out to greet them. And he didn’t remain for long, vanishing into the mine as the army passed.
Sarisa laughed, clapping. “This is so funny,” she said as they approached a shallow cave set into the rise of the hill. “People used to come here to make out.”
“Here?” Theo asked, gesturing to the rocks. “Under the rocks? There are spiders under there.”
“We cleared the spiders out.”
“‘We?’”
Sairsa went a bright shade of red, but soon regained control of herself. “Some of us like to have fun.”
The army assembled outside of the gate, and Aarok did his thing. It didn’t take him long to get control of everyone, ensuring that his forces were prepared for the fight. There were several adventurers who were injured from the previous fight, so Theo passed out potions to those that didn’t have them. After everyone was ready, the alchemist and Sarisa found their way to the wall. Tresk ranged ahead with the steal units, while Alex took to the sky.
“What the heck is a grimeling?” Theo asked, leaning over the wall as the wave started.
“Haven’t heard of them,” Sarisa said, squinting to see into the distance. “Oh, he’s calling for a retreat.”
Theo and Sarisa watched as the adventurers pulled back in a fighting retreat. The alchemist got a good look at the grimelings. They were knee-high puddles of muck that lashed out with tentacle-like appendages. He decided they were elemental-like creatures, and determined that a retreat was the best option. When attacked by an adventurer, they seemed to form themselves around the weapon to avoid damage. But once the army was safely behind the walls, both the towers and a line of adventurers throwing bombs got to work.
While the little monsters were almost immune to physical attacks, they weren’t so resistant to fire, lightning, and cold. Their little bodies weren’t suited for climbing the wall, but they could push themselves through the portcullis. Theo threw a bone dagger imbued with [Dragon’s Dance] inside of the gate, shredding a field of the gross monsters.
“They’re nasty,” Theo said, pressing the sleeve of his coat over his mouth. “Smells like… I don’t know? Tar mixed with sewage.”
Sarisa looked pale. “No kidding. No wonder people don’t run this dungeon.”
Theo couldn’t imagine what a high-level grimeling would have done to the town. Even the Level 10 monsters gave them trouble, slippery as they were. Only the towers, bombs, and warded daggers had any effect. The battle went on far longer than it should have. The monsters had spread out to the east and west, circumventing most of Aarok’s plan. Adventurers ran off with bombs in hand, desperate to cut them off before they reached any other gate.
Alex swooped from the sky, making runs on the fields of grimelings with her fire attacks. Thorny roots would spring up from the ground, magically binding the monsters in place. Then she would fly over the fields, spraying them with gouts of deadly fire. The goose played a key role in hunting down the stray monsters, and after several hours of fighting the boss finally spawned.
“Grime King Sludge,” Sarisa said, retching. “I can smell him from here.”
“We’re gonna need a lot of [Cleansing Scrub].”
As expected, the boss was a larger version of the grimelings. It looked like a living pool of tar, pulling itself through the hills with tendrils that shot out with force. The monster issued a squelching war cry as it approached the gates. Towers fired one after the other, covering the monster in layers of fire, freezing it in some places, and blasting large chunks off in others. Theo let loose his most powerful daggers, those infused with the [Dragon’s Dance] property. No matter where he threw the daggers, the monster’s ‘face’ always seemed to drift to another part of its body.
“This sucks!” Tresk shouted, stomping her feet. “I can’t even do anything.”
The wisdom of Aarok’s strategy proved itself as the sludge threw itself against the gate. Most of the creature’s body had been blasted away, rendering it almost useless against the sturdy walls. If the adventurers hadn’t been clearing the dungeon out, this wave would have been a nightmare. Theo was thankful for the commander’s foresight on that, and watched as the grime was whittled away to nothing. The wave ended, rewarding the alchemist with another few gold and another useless item.
Those assembled near the gate cheered in response to the boss falling, and there were no bonus waves to follow. Thank god for that. Theo was exhausted from the fight, even though his stamina had drained little. He dripped [Cleaning Scrub] on the wall, descending the battlements to inspect the fallen monsters. Pinching his nose, he knelt to inspect the goo they left behind.
[Grimeling Ooze]
[Alchemy Ingredient]
Uncommon
The stinking goo left behind by a grimeling.
Properties:
[????] [????] [????]
“Good thing stuff doesn’t stink when I put it in my inventory,” Theo said, sucking the liquid into his inventory.
Chapter 15
Tea Parties
Theo passed through the fabric between realms, holding Tresk and Zarali’s hand. As they passed over the Bridge, he felt no invite from Uz’Xulven. He took it as a good sign. The moment they hit the ground in Tero’gal, his adoptive sister’s face lit up. She darted from the spot, jumping to crush Belgar in a hug.
“Potions are done,” the spirit groaned, desperate to push his sister off.
Typically, the souls did whatever they wanted with the realm. What they had chosen to do with their time was strange, though. The game they had created was now the most popular thing in the realm. There were now four fields of leveled earth, and well-maintained grass for them to play on. Theo didn’t want to think of it as soccer like back on Earth. It had evolved into something else entirely. He certainly didn’t remember there being two goals on each side.
Theo left Zarali and her brother to their hugging, and went off to check his potions. He popped the lid from one barrel and examined the resulting potion.
[Greater Hallow the Soil]
[Potion]
Legendary
Created by: Theo Spencer
Grade: Good Quality
Alignment:
Drogramath (Minor Bond)
Purify any naturally occurring soil of all alignment-based befoulment.
This was the most powerful version of the [Hallow the Soil] potion the alchemist had crafted. But experimentation would tell how effective it was at purifying the tainted landscape. At least this meant that his experimentations were a success. And Salire was working on the next batch by brewing their alcoholic base. After that, they would enter full-scale production mode. It was a prospect that sent a tingle down Theo’s spine.
“Very exciting,” the alchemist muttered to himself.
A familiar knocking sensation entered Theo’s mind, followed by an unfamiliar one. He accepted the first, watching as the icy archway sprung up. After a moment of thought, he accepted the next one. A golden gate, inlaid with too much finery, sprung up next. A moment after Benton stepped into the realm, Glantheir joined with him. The elven god brought with him a sense of calm that washed over everyone. The heads of every soul turned to spot the god in the plain clothes.
“Beautiful realm,” Glantheir said, his eyes dragging over the landscape. “Your souls discovered football.”
Theo approached the elven god with a smile on his face. “Khahar brought it over. They changed the rules, but… what can you do?”
“Not much.”
“Uh… Oh… Hi,” Benton waved awkwardly. “Nice to meet you. Er… Lord?”
“Glantheir is fine.”
“Tea?” Theo asked.
Benton scampered toward the cottage as Theo and Glantheir walked together. Everywhere the elven god went, he seemed to bring with him a sense of deep calm. The alchemist wanted to drink that in, allowing himself to bathe in the light. It was like being in a warm bath, complete with pleasant smells and waves of comforting warmth.
“Always busy, aren’t you?” Glantheir asked, finding a seat in the crowded cottage. “I can’t imagine your luck. A mortal realm that you can visit. And you’re a champion. I would guess your advancement is quick.”
“Pretty fast. We have a perfect storm of things in Broken Tusk.”
Benton fumbled with the teapot, almost dropping it on the ground. When Glantheir smiled at him, the bear god’s hands seemed to calm. They waited patiently for the tea, but helped themselves to sweets as they waited.
“I have everything lined up for Sulvan,” Glantheir said, pausing for a moment. “Shame Uharis didn’t care to join.”
“I didn’t expect either to accept. But Uharis was the wildcard, so that makes sense.”
“He’ll spend time on Antalis. That should soften him. Then we’ll be ready to accept him.”
“So, I don’t want to overstep my bounds… But…”
“I love statements that start that way.” Glantheir smiled, selecting a berry-filled pastry. “You just know the next statement is going to be loaded.”
“Well, why accept them at all? Wasn’t the Burning Eye an enemy?”
“If I only accepted souls from my domain, my realm would have crumbled long ago. Did you forget my speech about ‘infinite forgiveness?’”
Theo remembered it. He just didn’t know if he believed in it. Forgiveness was one thing, but infinite forgiveness? That kind of compassion would get a person killed, and he wasn’t sure if that’s the path he would follow. “Redemption is one thing, but I just can’t relate.”
“You don’t need to. You’re your own person. Live your life however you see fit. Sulvan will be a useful tool. So would Uharis, if he accepts my cores.”
Benton brought the steaming teapot over, pouring everyone a cup of his custom mix. Glantheir accepted graciously. Theo had been taking the bear god’s amazing tea for granted, and gave his thanks.
“This is strange,” Benton said, chuckling as he took a seat.
“Is it?” Glantheir asked. “The old gods used to meet this way all the time. We would gather, and watch our followers down on the mortal plane.”
“What changed?” Theo sipped his tea, finding the flavor to be perfect. As always.
“The rules changed in the first era. The gods were barred from visiting each other’s realms.”
Theo felt another mental knock. He recognized this one, and accepted it right away. Several moments later, after some polite sipping of tea, the unshrouded form of Uz’Xulven walked into the room. She dusted her shoulders off, nodded to the group, then took a seat.
“Can’t miss out on Benton’s food,” Uz’Xulven said, waiting politely for him to pour her tea. The bear god poured her a large cup, and she thanked him.
“Uz’Xulven wasn’t around for those days,” Glantheir said, nodding toward the Queen of the Bridge of Shadows. “She’s part of the second era gods.”
Uz’Xulven grumbled before straightening her shoulders. “I was always jealous of you. Nice to finally meet you in person, though.”
“Agreed,” Glantheir said. “I’ve missed this so much. I can only handle spirits that want to worship the ground I walk on so much.”
Theo wasn’t sure where he stood in this hierarchy. Perhaps Tero’gal was neutral territory for everyone. Of course that’s what it was. A mortal dreamrealm that allowed anyone to visit wasn’t a normal thing. It was a new era for the gods.
“Yet, Drogramath hasn’t visited,” Theo said, sipping his tea. “Curious.”
“Hah! Good luck with that one,” Uz’Xulven muttered. “He rarely talks to me. Old Glantheir here responds more than my own blood.”
“Don’t be too hard on him,” Glantheir scolded, like a father reprimanding his child. “Drogramath has been making moves for untold eons. He’s defensive and scared.”
“Especially after what happened to Zagmon,” Uz’Xulven grumbled. “Anyway! I was watching the progress of the undead. They’re assaulting Veosta. Does that sting, friend?”
Glantheir’s face darkened for only a moment. He offered the table a warm smile. “All part of the plan.”
“Why would Veosta be important to you?” Theo asked.
“Veosta is the bastard colony of half-elves,” Uz’Xulven said. “Well, that’s kinda a useless sentiment, isn’t it? Want to explain?”
Glantheir took a bite out of his pastry and nodded. He washed it down with a sip of tea. “The first people to arrive in the world were all humans from Earth. We were all placed in new bodies. Elves, cat-people, goblins, ogres… Curiously, none of us were given human bodies.”
“None? Really? I’ve seen humans, though.”
Uz’Xulven chuckled. “You’ve seen elves, my friend.”
“It’s elves all the way down,” Glantheir sighed. “There were a few people who refused to ascend during the First War of Ascension. They stayed behind like Khahar, and tried to make Earth-like things. Like humans. The pozwa in your town are an experiment to make goats. The karatan are an abomination meant to be cattle. It never really worked, but the humans were the closest thing they came up with.”
“Not sure what I think about eugenics,” Theo said.
Benton chuckled, asserting that he was indeed still at the table.
“Thousands of years have a way of making people focused,” Glantheir said. “Every human you see is actually just an elf made to look like a human. Oh, well.”
Theo couldn’t stop himself from laughing. That was a very godly response to the topic.
“Veosta’s destruction is one thing, but Qavell…”
A loud snap issued from Uz’Xulven’s side of the table. Khahar appeared behind her, clamping his hand over her mouth. “We talked about this,” the arbiter growled.
“Yuri. Nice of you to join us,” Glantheir said, gesturing to the single remaining seat.
Uz’Xulven had a look of terror in her eyes. Khahar remained there for long, tense moments. Eventually, he released his fellow god and strode across the table. He took his seat and nodded. “Could I please have some tea, Benton?”
“Certainly,” Benton said, fumbling with the teapot. He poured out a cup for Khahar, then busied himself by making another pot.
“If Theo can’t know it on his own, you can’t tell him,” Khahar grumbled. “I’ll create a binding agreement with the gods. Otherwise… Well…”
“Otherwise we can’t all come here to hang out,” Glantheir said, holding his teacup up as though to toast. “We understand, old friend. I’d rather not lose this new hangout spot.”
Theo considered the thoughts that swirled around in his mind. He was only a few pieces of information away from knowing what happened in Qavell. But his Wisdom of the Soul ability wouldn’t activate. The alchemist felt it churning in his mind, but it wouldn’t produce the result. He concluded that Khahar was messing with it. That was more than fair. There were some secrets of the world that needed to be kept secret, and he wouldn’t pry. It wasn’t worth damaging the tea parties he had come to enjoy so much.
Khahar sipped his tea, grabbing one of Benton’s famous pastries. He seemed bored as he nibbled on it, eyes lingering on the space between those that had gathered.
“Do you have a champion, Glantheir?” Theo asked, breaking the silence. All eyes turned to the elven god.
“I do! She is a stalwart champion. Has been for hundreds of years now.”
“He has a preference for passive followers,” Khahar said. “And we love him for it.”
“I’m the fabric holding everything together, Arbiter. If the mortals couldn’t heal themselves, we’d all be doomed.”
The tea party went on for endless hours. Theo listened to the stories that Khahar and Glantheir told each other. They were careful with their words. At points, the alchemist could feel them holding things back. It was the most pleasant time he ever had in Tero’gal. The elven god’s warmth filled the realm, setting everyone in a great mood.
Time passed in the strange way it always did in Tero’gal. Theo gathered Zarali, who was eager to make overly polite introductions to Glantheir. Uz’Xulven departed with them, coming to rest on the Bridge rather than proceeding to the mortal realm. That would have violated a list of laws in the high heavens. The alchemist’s feet finally touched ground in his town, bringing a different sense of comfort.
“Well, that was lovely,” Zarali said. “I do miss Belgar. He’s living an entire life in your realm.”
“Funny how that works. What am I supposed to do today?”
“I’m not your assistant.”
Zarali went her own way, leaving Theo to dig through his administration interface. He was supposed to be planning for the festivities in Rivers and Daub. Instead, he headed for the lab to meet up with Salire. Rowan and Sarisa checked in with him, then went off to do their own things for the day. The alchemist promised to inform them if he planned to leave town via the train.
Even on the first floor of the Newt and Demon, it was hot. Theo smelled the scent of brewing liquor from the lab above. He made his way to the second floor to check supplies before sending his senses through the lodestone network. His golems were hard at work, rebuilding the fields, harvesting plants from his greenhouses, and guarding the mine. As nothing seemed out of order, he made his way to the lab.
“Ah!” Salire said, clapping her hands. “Did you get the stuff?”
Theo produced a barrel of the [Greater Hallow the Soil] potion. Salire inspected it with glee. Nothing had changed about the description, but the silvery liquid radiated a sense of power. The alchemist wasn’t sure if this was a third, fourth, or fifth tier potion. He only knew that it was powerful. The perfect thing to restore the land to what it once was.
“Glantheir was light on details,” Theo said, stowing the potions away. “Out of every patron, I expected him to take action against the undead.”
Salire shivered. “Don’t remind me of the heavens. I’m not interested in going back anytime soon. I just wish you would have trusted me to recover on my own.”
“Figured that one out, huh?” Theo asked with a nod.
“I appreciate distractions. Don’t get me wrong.”
Theo and Salire worked to get the next batch of potions ready. The store on the first floor had been mostly depleted from the monster waves, but taking care of the undead befoulment was at the top of their list. Adventurers could do without their healing potions for a few days while they sorted the industrial production of [Greater Hallow the Soil]. Today, they would run a batch of base alcohol for the high-tier potion. And it would take all day. At least his new apprentice was grinding experience like a fiend.
After sorting the lab out, Salire joined Theo at the town hall. Alise was looking over a list of supplies needed for the three-town party. They were rolling an existing holiday, Embers, into a holiday of their own making. Treason Day. At the turn of the Season of Fire, Broken Tusk sought to celebrate their independence from Qavell. Some administrators in the alliance were of the mind that they violated no laws of the crown. Others knew the truth. Whoever was in charge of Qavell City would come knocking.
That’s what rail guns were for.
“I bought all the beer, wine, mead, and so forth from everyone. Including imports from Partopour,” Salire said, poking a finger into her paper. The numbers were staggering. “Decorations. Music. A troupe of traveling ogres will perform a play.”
“Traveling ogres?” Theo asked. “First time I’m hearing about this.”
“Right. Anything else?”
Salire had some suggestions to make the party memorable. In classic half-ogre logic, she suggested large bonfires burning in the streets of Rivers and Daub. Theo wasn’t so sure about that, but he was distracted. Alran Cherman, the spymaster for the alliance, was chatting with Gwyn and Gael. The alchemist sauntered over, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder.
“Normally, no news is good news,” Theo said, pulling his spymaster to the side. “When it comes to Qavell? I’m not so sure.”
Alran chuckled nervously. “Then we’re of the same mind,” he whispered. “Come.”
Theo walked with the spymaster, finding a corner to whisper their skullduggery. Alran seemed his normal, calm self. Aside from the whispering.
“The last thing my spy in Qavell said was ‘something is happening.’ Then silence. My people in Veosta talk about a losing war with the undead.”
“How is Veosta responding?”
“Evacuation. There’s talk about Glantheir’s champion coming to save the day, but I doubt it. The elf lord never extends his influence outside of Tarantham. The elves like to keep to their homeland.”
“Do you think they’ll be safe on the elven continent?”
“I have absolutely no doubt they’ll be completely fine. Even if the undead walk the ocean, they won’t stand a chance against Elven God of Healing and his core-holders.”
“The undead are being controlled by Balkor, aren’t they?” Theo asked, rubbing his chin. The edges of his mind stretched out, trying to find a motive for the Demon God of Undeath. “What does he want?”
“Destruction?”
“No, he would have pressed against us. We’re an easier target than the elves, aren’t we?”
“I wouldn’t admit that in front of Aarok, but yes. Compared to the Taranthian Empire, we’re ants underfoot.”
“Which implies an intelligent motive. Meaning there’s a plan.”
“What about your godly friends? Why not ask them?”
“They’re bound in heavenly contracts. Khahar showed up when Uz’Xulven tried to tell me what happened in Qavell.”
Alran cursed, spitting on the ground. “And our friend, mister Southblade?”
“Fenian? He’s in the wind. I only know that he is alive.”
Alran hummed, scratching the growing stubble on his chin. “He was last in Balkor’s realm, right? Have you mentally prepared for the worst-case scenario?”
“What would that be?”
“That Fenian Feintleaf is an undead servant of Balkor.”
No, that would complicate matters too much. Khahar was insistent that Fenian hold the Throne of the Herald. The Arbiter saw a million steps ahead, this would have been part of the plan. Theo still couldn’t see how sacrificing so many people was in line with the long-term plan, though. For the first time since he came to this world, he sent a secret prayer to Glantheir. A prayer to keep the lost souls safe. If the elven god wouldn’t take them in, he would.
“I’d rather not consider that. Remind me to splash him with a [Hallow Ground Potion] the next time I see him.”
Alran produced a vial of the same potion from his coat. It was nestled in a hidden bandoleer. “Ahead of you, alchemist.”
“Trust is hard to earn. It’s even harder to win back.”
“Indeed. Could I make a request?”
“Of course.”
“Double our wall-based weaponry.”
Theo intended to triple it.
