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111 - A Lead
🕑 Added 2026-01-07 17:00:18 +0000 UTCVivi suspected this meeting wouldn’t go as smoothly as the previous ones. Not all prior craftsmen of Vanguard had been shining beacons of social grace—Mae came to mind—but all of them were, if just by virtue of having existed in the time of Vanguard, old, wise, and experienced. That lent some ability to navigate a conversation by default.
Maybe not Ulden though. Assuming she could trust the backstory she remembered from Seven Cataclysms, the dwarf was even less of a people person than her—he would make her look like a chatterbox.
Hesitating a second longer, she mustered up the courage to knock on the door of the jewelcrafting workshop. Vivi received not so much as a spoken word in response. A muffled grunt was all she got through the slab of wood.
Which means… what, exactly?
Vivi sent off a silent prayer. A part of her considered waiting for Rafael or some other mediator, but she was a grown woman. She could handle a challenging conversation. She wasn’t hopeless.
“It’s me,” she called through the door. “Vivisari.”
Again: a grunt.
She would take that as permission.
Pushing the door open, she was met with the image of a dwarf hunched over a low-set table, a smattering of gems arrayed in front of him. His black hair was braided down to his waist, the same as his impressive beard. Ulden wasn’t especially old for a dwarf, but while dwarves were one of the long-lived races, they weren’t as immune to the flow of time as elves or demons. So Vivi caught a few gray hairs tucked in the otherwise glossy black mane. Besides that, he hadn’t changed much. Certainly not like Malach and Petra.
He was peering down through a loupe at a fat, sparkling ruby. That lasted for a second longer before he set the tool down and gave her his attention. “Vivisari.” His voice was gruff but held a hint of warmness. The stony expression could probably rival Vivi’s own, though. “Long time. Looking well.”
He nodded, then turned back and resumed his scrutiny of the gem.
“You’re… looking well too, Ulden,” she said, somewhat hesitantly. “I just got news of your arrival. Came straight here. I’m glad to see you inside Vanguard’s halls again.”
She received yet another grunt in response.
She knew he wasn’t intentionally being rude. He had projected fondness—if not of any gushing sort—in his sparse greeting, and coming from him, that was nothing short of Malach’s heartfelt insistence on a hug. The dwarf just wasn’t an emotional person.
Honestly, she felt some camaraderie toward him, like she did with most oddballs. Being around people like Rafael who never fumbled a word and always picked the right thing to say could make her feel more than a little insecure. Maybe she found it liberating, even, to be the more socially competent person for once.
…though perhaps Ulden’s scarcity of words couldn’t be called ‘social incompetence.’ Not like Vivi’s own. He just didn’t have much interest in talking.
She could hardly leave a century-long reunion at that, even if the dwarf himself didn’t seem inclined toward having a lengthy chat.
“I see you helped yourself to the vault,” she tried.
“Organizing. Yes.”
She heard no trace of shame in his enthusiastic raiding of Vanguard’s stockpile. Looking across the gems laid out on the tablecloth, Vivi noted that some of them would be difficult to obtain even by the Sorceress’s standards.
“I admire your work ethic,” she said, and even Vivisari’s cool voice leaked an amused dryness into the words. If nothing else, the interaction so far was entertaining her. “What’s Vanguard’s is yours, of course. You’ve heard what we’re dealing with?”
“Void.”
“Yes. The Void.” The man knew how to pack everything that needed saying into as few syllables as possible. “I have some of that material—voidglass—for you. Harvested from some of the stronger tiers of monsters. If you don’t mind, that’s what I need you experimenting with. See if you can make jewelry out of it, or whatever other ideas you might have.”
Ulden considered the request. She could only tell he was paying attention because of how he paused in his inspection for a moment.
Then he grunted.
Again, she assumed that meant an affirmative. He might not be a talkative sort, but he had served Vanguard faithfully. If for some bizarre reason he was denying her, he would say so clearly.
“I asked Miraelle to do the same thing,” Vivi went on. “Make me a list of how you need it shaped. It’s not in the most usable form. I assume you’ll want spheres to carve, and bands?” She paused. “It’s tough. Your tools probably won’t work—I’ll have to enchant them. Or help you through the process. We’ll find out.”
Another slight pause in his work as he mulled over her words.
“Will be interesting,” he said.
Three whole words? All for me? she thought wryly.
Levity hidden in her voice, she told the dwarf, “Vanguard is blessed to have you back, Ulden. It goes without saying that Rafael will get you signed on whenever you want. Thank you.” She had intended to wrap up the conversation, but she paused as she realized something. “Oh. I’ll need to do some co-crafting with you. I took an apprentice, and she’ll need gear going forward. I had some commissioned already, but…” She hesitated as she wondered how to phrase it. She didn’t like insulting other people’s work.
“Bad,” Ulden said, with no such compunction.
Vivi winced. “Not the greatest, but not bad. Anyway, she’s growing out of it fast. Every hunting trip is ten or more levels, so she’ll need a new set before long. Since you’re back, I obviously want the next one from you.” Jewelry was highly enchantable, so it was nearly as important for mages as primary gear.
Ulden paused, signaling how ridiculous her words sounded to him. Ten levels every hunting trip was rather absurd, no matter one’s level. Then he set aside the ruby and plucked the next gem up to lay it on the cloth.
“Yes.”
Funnily enough, Vivi felt like the conversation had gone without problem. “Perfect. Just giving you a heads-up, shouldn’t happen any time too soon. Okay. I’ll leave you to it. Glad to have you back.”
She turned to leave, but Ulden had one more thing to say.
“Glad to be back, Guildmaster.”
A smile tugged at her lips, and she left.
When she arrived back in the common room, she found Rafael watching Jasper and Derrick play darts. By the way the demon caught her eye, he had clearly been waiting for her.
“Lady Vivisari. Might I steal a moment of your time?”
“Did something happen?” she asked warily. She couldn’t help but make that assumption. Rafael didn’t track her down about inconsequential matters. He didn’t have the time.
“In a manner of speaking.”
Vivi’s heart skipped a beat at the confirmation.
“My office, if you please?” he prompted.
And he wants the conversation to be private, Vivi thought with a grimace. Foreboding, though not necessarily a promise of disaster. She stopped herself from catastrophizing.
She waved at Jasper and Derrick in acknowledgement as she crossed the room and headed for Rafael’s office, the demon falling into step next to her. Once inside, Rafael slid into his seat and Vivi took her own.
“Nothing disastrous, I assure you,” Rafael opened with, sensing her concern. “In fact, conceivably the opposite.”
The word choice didn’t give her much confidence. “Conceivably?”
“There is some nuance. I believe I have deduced Eshara’s whereabouts. A lead, if nothing else.”
That was good news, which doubled her suspicion. “What’s the catch?”
“Only that I can guarantee nothing and may be sending you to chase shadows.” He hesitated. “Also, that Eshara only ever appears where her team’s help is needed. That which she deems deserving of the personal attention of three Titled, including the Roving Justicar herself, often suggests threats of great scale.”
Ah. That did explain why Rafael was presenting this as mixed news. “People are in danger? Where? How urgently?”
Rafael rolled his fingers against his desk. “Let me emphasize again that this is conjecture, and not the strongest theory I’ve ever formed. Alarm bells do not ring across the Southern Kingdom warning of disaster ravaging their lands. I have merely tied together disparate pieces of data and formed a suspicion. A collection of possible sightings of the Roving Justicar's party, and a particularly… suspect… report of a town that requested help from the nearest city’s Adventuring Guild branch. The case remains unresolved; the mithril-rank dispatched never returned, and further reports from the town have yet to arrive either.”
His brow furrowed, then he shook his head.
“None of that is unusual, though; many missions take longer than expected, and the town is relatively small. Silence is likewise explainable through under-equipped staff or for any number of reasons. Indeed, my lady, I work more on intuition than evidence, which I am loath to do. But Eshara has a knack for appearing where she is most needed—I honestly suspect a skill. She may have gone there herself to look into whatever is happening… if anything of note truly is.”
“I see.” Vivi digested the briefing. “I’m glad you told me, even if it turns out to be nothing. I’ll chase down any lead on Eshara, even a weak one.”
“As I assumed.”
“What’s the threat?”
“The initial request for aid was a ‘mithril-rank, mutated humanoid.’ There were several missing persons cases and an illness spreading throughout the town as well, though the latter was noted as mild. Could easily be a few coincidences combined with an outbreak of the common cold.” He sighed. “As always, it is impossible to deduce much with certainty when working with words on paper.”
“Spreading disease, and a mutated humanoid,” Vivi murmured. “That sounds like the Flesh-Weaver.”
A grimace flashed across Rafael’s features before being smoothed away. “I would not discount the possibility outright. While less frequent with every passing year, it will be millennia before we stop unearthing some dark horror left behind by the Cataclysms. Though…”
“I might be assuming too much,” she finished for him, picking that implication up by his tone of voice. “Monsters like that appear sometimes, but it’s rare. Most have been purged by now. Not to mention how the Flesh-Weaver stayed mainly in elven forests.”
“Of which there are many in the Southern Kingdom, admittedly. And all Cataclysms were known to wander.”
Vivi nodded. They’d been worldwide disasters, not localized ones, though the Flesh-Weaver in particular had terrorized the elves far more often than the other races.
If the worst turned out true, she wasn’t looking forward to what she might find. Like his, or her, or its name suggested, the Flesh-Weaver’s creations were truly grotesque. Vivi hadn’t even fully accustomed herself to the gore and viscera that came with monster hunting in this newly realistic life. The abominations that the Flesh-Weaver carved and stitched together, or grew wholesale from pots of meat and tissue and bone, would be on another level altogether. Biological horror—that had been the theme of the Flesh-Weaver, and those campaigns had been Vivi’s least favorite by far.
Some of her memories from the game turned her stomach. Translating those images into reality would be…
She fought off a shudder.
As much as for the people possibly in danger, she hoped she was being paranoid so that she didn’t have to deal with one of that monster’s creations.
“I shouldn’t waste any time, then.” Vivi stood, which prompted Rafael to do the same. “You have directions?”
Rafael gave them to her. “We should speak about the Quest once you return,” he added. “If Eshara is not related somehow, and the trail is cold, then I’m afraid I have no idea where she is. And thus we’ll need to move forward with the Quest with that in mind.”
Vivi’s nose wrinkled, but she nodded.
She started pulling together a [Greater Warp], then hesitated.
Her apprentice.
Vivi’s gut instinct was to leave Saffra behind. A teenage girl had no place setting foot within ten miles of anything the Flesh-Weaver had created. Then again, not only was the Cataclysm’s involvement merely a possibility, but a teenage girl had no place being an adventurer in general. If Vivi had a choice, Saffra would be living a calm, civilian life, worried about nothing more than her grades and making friends. Yet that wasn’t the path life had picked for Saffra. Or perhaps Saffra for herself.
In the long run, sheltering the girl might hurt her more than help her. She clearly intended to fling herself into danger day after day. It would be best if she faced down monsters with Vivi watching over her. Grow in experience safely. The girl intended to be an adventurer, and Vivi had little choice in that. Only in how proficient she became.
Nevertheless, Vivi was torn, and debated with herself for a long moment.
There was an intelligent man right in front of her whose opinion she respected. Might as well ask for his advice. She lowered her staff and cancelled the half-formed plans of [Greater Warp].
“Should I bring Saffra?”
Rafael mulled over the question, then answered with surprising assertiveness. “Yes. You would be doing her a disservice otherwise.”
Vivi couldn’t help but be taken aback. “That’s a strong position.” She’d expected softer words.
“Is it?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “It’s exactly what passed through your own head, no?”
She didn’t understand how this man could pluck facts from thin air like that. It wasn’t like she wore her emotions on her sleeve. Dryly, she asked, “Learned mind magic recently, have you?”
Rafael shrugged. “Your thoughts seemed clear. Why else hesitate over the matter?”
Fair. Making instant deductions in the middle of a conversation wasn’t easy though, no matter how Rafael made it seem so. Or maybe she herself was bad at it. She couldn’t help but envy this man’s talents.
“The Flesh-Weaver’s work is disturbing even by monster standards,” she pointed out, though Rafael had surely simulated the entire conversation in his head already.
“If what you discover is too extreme, then send her away.”
She was in the privileged position where she could do so. Not many other mages in the world had access to instant, long-range teleportation. She sighed. “You’re right. Like usual.”
“Rather, you are, my lady. I merely echoed your thoughts back to you. We all need reassurances at times.”
“If you say so.” She found herself amused, as always, at how generously this man interpreted her. “I’ll be back soon. Hopefully with Eshara in tow.”
Waving her staff, she disappeared.
Comments
Shen
Thanks, loving where the story is going so far!
deKu
I feel ya, Vivi. I'm also not a fan of body horror so I'm hoping it's not the Flesh Weaver 😬
Undead Writer
TFTC
