Warsinger

by James Osiris Baldwin

  I nodded, watching as she corked the bottle and finished preparing her ingredients. Masha measured out the silver, set a corked bottle of frothy light-blue crab blood near the crucible, readied a clean dropper near the mana, then began to expertly chop the herbs into tiny pieces. Every time she finished with one ingredient, she wiped the cutting board down, and started on the next, neatly separating them into different small pottery bowls.

  “Now, watch me.” She dumped the mushrooms in her mortar and pestle and pounded them into a mash, and kept grinding as she reached for the grass and added it. The mortar rasped as she ground it into a dull teal-green paste, then added the basil and continued without pause.

  “It must be constantly agitated,” she said. “You must not stop moving once!”

  “Yes Ma'am,” I said reflexively. The A.R appeared over her hands, showing how she perfectly emulated the holographic directions to mash and stir. A meter quickly filled up as she did, and when it was full, it pinged and vanished. Masha grunted with satisfaction and uncorked the troll bottle again, spooning out about a quarter teaspoon into the mix. The Troll Flesh Paste immediately began to crawl around in the herbs. Then came the Stingcrab blood: she poured in the entire two-ounce vial, and an acrid, sweet smell billowed from the bowl. The herb mash began to hiss and pop, turning a darker blue color as the monster blood reacted with the plants. Masha poured the liquid silver suspension in, and the potion began to bubble like molten metal.

  “The mana transmutes the ingredients and neutralizes them,” she muttered, delicately uncapping the flask. As soon as she did, the billowing burned-plastic stench of ozone filled the room, so intense I was pretty sure the inside of my nose singed. The blue liquid began to reach up the curved sides, climbing against gravity to escape, but Masha deftly caught a drop of it and resealed the bottle before any of it floated away. There was an audible hiss of pressure from the cap as the mana churned in the bottle, consuming the air inside and creating a vacuum. The substance settled down then, seething gently.

  “And now... hup!” Masha held the dropper over the bowl, then squeezed it with a small, careful flick of her wrist. The mana fell like a tiny star into the boiling silver surface, which bucked, rippled, and then swirled like a small galaxy before settling into beautiful silvery-blue liquid with a faint turquoise glow.

  [You have learned a new recipe: Bloodscour Potion]

  Bloodscour (Alchemical)

  A vital but expensive medicine for managing severe internal infections, Bloodscour potion is highly unstable and has a shelf-life of barely twenty minutes. When freshly prepared, it is one of the safest alchemical infusions available, though there is always a slight risk of Stranging. However, the solution decomposes rapidly. Spoiled Bloodscour is highly toxic and guaranteed to mutate or kill a human.

  Side-Effects: Bloodscour is administered intravenously. It is fast-acting, but causes severe nausea that must be managed to prevent the patient from continuously vomiting. The Severe Nausea penalty timer is random, lasting between 1-24 hours.

  Toxicity: 1/10 (10/10 when spoiled)

  Ingredients: Cat's Eye Mushrooms, King's Grass, Holy Basil, Troll Flesh (paste or chunk), Stingcrab Blood, Colloidal Silver, Blue-Grade Mana or higher (liquid form), 1x Sealed Flask. Sale Price: 100 olbia.

  “Wow. It looks neat.” I marveled at the stuff as it shifted and swirled. “Smells like fourth-day music festival ass, though.”

  “Yes. It rapidly decomposes into an awful black tarry thing.” Masha worked quickly, taking a clean glass and rubber transfuser from her kit. She drew the solution into the chamber, capped it off, and attached the needle. “Alright. I hope your Baru has a strong stomach.”

  We returned to find Lazar still working. Vash’s skin had turned a nasty blueish color, but he was hanging in there. The doctor nodded to us, and moved aside. He'd been hard at work, removing the dead skin and cauterizing the healthy tissue.

  “Burna's breath. I've already had this lamp-eyed fool jabbing hot irons into my arm. What awful thing are you going to put in me, woman?” Vash gave Masha a wink, eyes dancing despite the pain he endured.

  Masha clicked her tongue, but she was also smiling. “Quit your whining, you rogue. And brace yourself. This will make you very nauseous.”

  “Oh! Hang on! I have something to help with that!” Lazar said, scuffing his chair back before bustling off.

  I hung over Masha’s shoulder while she felt around Vash's good arm, the left, and pinched the inside of his elbow. “Tuun! Come here and insert this needle, then administer the Bloodscour over precisely five minutes. You - you pump your hand like this, eh? Make a fist as tight as you can, relax it, make a fist again.”

  Vash surprisingly didn't turn her order into a masturbation joke. He did wag his eyebrows, though, squeezing his fist until the bones in his hand creaked, then letting it go. His entire arm, from bicep to fingertips, was tattooed solid black, and he carried so little body fat that the tension made the vein pop out like a garter snake. My Field Medicine A.R guided me through the steps, walking me through a holographic minigame that used animations and arrows to direct me what to do. I flicked the needle a few times, swabbed his skin with alcohol and a small pad, and slid the needle in. The monk didn't even flinch - though he did grimace when I began to slowly depress the plunger. A timer started to count down, along with an animation that showed me how fast to push down on the contents of the vial.

  “Well. This is more unpleasant than I expected. They don't call it Bloodscour for nothing, do they?” Vash broke into a hot sweat, grunting as he shifted on the bed.

  “We'll give you some ibuprofen and you can walk it off,” I joked, speeding up a little as I noticed the level of the vial was higher than the level in the animation.

  Behind us, Lazar rushed into the room. “Alright, here: put this under your tongue.”

  “Ugh.” Vash opened his mouth, and accepted what looked like a pressed tablet of mashed herbs.

  “What's that?” I asked.

  “Oh! It's an anti-emetic,” Lazar replied. “A simple field remedy. Liquorice and hyssop lozenge.”

  “Anti-what?”

  “Anti-emetics stop you from vomiting,” Masha said. “Easy does it, now.”

  We were down to the last two minutes, and Vash was clearly struggling. As the potion got to work, he closed his eyes, drew a deep breath through his nose, let it out of his mouth, and relaxed down onto the bed. I was about to try and get him to say something when a red exclamation mark flashed and a new kind of alert, one I'd never seen before, pushed into view.

  [Kingdom Alert: The city of Karhad is rioting!]

  Vash was lucky I didn't squirt the rest of the Bloodscour straight into him. My hands twitched, but I managed not to drop the transfuser. “Fuck! A riot is breaking out in Karhad. I have to go.”

  “You have to attend your patient,” Masha said primly. “Concentrate.”

  Lazar's eyes widened, and he pushed his glasses up along his nose. “Masterhealer, I can take-”

  “No. Only a couple of minutes to go,” the woman said. “Easy does it, Tuun.”

  Every fiber of my being twitched in the direction of the courtyard - where I could hear Suri, Vilmos, and Istvan galvanizing into action. Someone was ringing the alarm bell at the front of the barracks, yelling at the soldiers there to get their kit on and assemble. I forced myself not to bring up the KMS: to concentrate, and follow the holographic guide as the fluid level slowly descended toward zero. And in doing so, I gained another point of Will.

  Vash was pouring sweat now, meditating through the crippling nausea and pain. It felt like an eternity before the plunger touched the glass. He shuddered through with a sudden chill as the A.R chimed.

  [You have gained skill points! You have reached Level 15 in Herbalism, Level 11 Alchemy, and Level 15 Field Medicine!]

  [You have reached Level 15 in two skills. To progress any further in these skills, you will need an examiner to promote you to Journeyman.]

  Th
e baleful red light slid away from Vash's head and heart, pulling back toward his shoulder. He grunted and writhed as Masha took a cold compress from Lazar and laid it over his soaked forehead.

  “Go now and see to your people,” she urged. “The worst is over. We will keep him alive.”

  “Yes ma'am. See you on the other side.” I pressed the transfuser back into her hands and bolted for the castle courtyard.

  Chapter 23

  Riots

  Riots are a destructive form of protest which can damage your Renown and Infrastructure.

  Managing civil unrest is a fact of life for all rulers, from village burghers to emperors. When your citizens' Happiness drops between 10-25% in one or more locales, the people of that locale will stage protests on a daily basis. On any given day, there is a base 35% chance that one of these protests will erupt into violence, causing a Riot.

  Every day that your citizens riot results in a 1% drop in Happiness. If your citizens' Happiness drops below 10%, all protests will be violent. Continuous unmanaged Riots will lead to a Rebellion, which pits your personal security forces against the might of your own citizenry as they attempt to depose you.

  Strategies to manage riots come in two forms:

  Placation: Riots can be stopped by addressing the causes of the protest. Your Kingdom Management HUD will show you what metrics must be addressed to placate the riot, and will give you a list of activities you must perform to successfully do so. Placating riots is often considerably more expensive than suppressing riots, but gives net positive Renown and increases Happiness, sharply reducing civil unrest and increasing the interval between riots.

  Suppression: Riots can be suppressed through the use of force. You must deploy soldiers or other security forces at a 20:1 ratio (1 soldier for every 20 citizens) to successfully put down a riot. Soldiers suppressing a Riot will be able to minimize casualties if you have the any of the following facilities in place: a Jail, Courthouse, Temple, or Hospital. For every facility you have, casualties will be reduced by 20%. If you do not have those facilities, your soldiers will violently suppress the riot, and there will be significant casualties.

  Suppressing riots is less expensive than Placating riots. It will reduce the needs of your citizenry by 3% per successfully suppressed riot, reflecting their ability to live with less. However, you will lose Renown at an exponential rate and gain Infamy instead, raising the likelihood of future revolt.

  To address a Riot, go to your Kingdom Management menu, drill down to the location where the riot is occurring, and take action.

  I had my HUD read the article to me at 2x speed, struggling to absorb it all as I got my head out of nerd mode and back into Jock-of-All-Trades. The courtyard of the castle was swirling with motion and noise: bells clanging, sergeants barking orders, war-bred hookwings hissing as they postured at each other and their riders. I scowled at the KMS as I jogged toward Karalti, a towering black island in the midst of the chaos. She was vibrating with tension, her wings half-spread.

  “What’s going on? Suri said there’s a riot?” Her head tracked me as I weaved my way to where the infantry guard were assembling. “What do we do?”

  “Hang on. I’m about to find out. Can you listen in telepathically?”

  “Yep!”

  I ran to where Istvan was taking the count. He looked as exhausted as when I’d first met him, when he and his army had been the bulwark against the Demon. He wasn’t the only one. The troops had a tired, mean-eyed look to them I didn’t like.

  “Your Grace.” Pale, unshaven and pinched around the eyes as he was, he still saluted smartly as I drew up. “What are your orders?”

  “We are not suppressing this riot with lethal force,” I said firmly, looking pointedly at the ranks. “Non-fatal tactics only. If that means getting a handle on it less quickly and at more expense, that’s fine. We can’t afford to lose any Renown. I want this put down by separating the rioters and not letting them regroup in the center of town. Do we have megaphones that we brought from Prezyemi?”

  “One or two,” Istvan said.

  “Split the rioters and isolate them into smaller groups. Take the megaphones and shout. Tell everyone the Volod is sending food and help will arrive in four days’ time. Get them to disperse.”

  “Wait,” Karalti's voice echoed in my mind. “Don't tell them that! Tell them that YOU went to Taltos to secure food and help for the county. Make sure they know we did it, otherwise, we won’t get any Renown for it.”

  “Uhh… quick revision to that last part.” I cleared my throat. “Make sure the citizens know that it was me, Suri, and Karalti who went and secured food for Karhad. Tell them we petitioned the Volod to make sure all our people would be provided for until the harvest.”

  “Is it true?” Istvan asked.

  “Hell yeah it is. Karalti just reminded me.”

  “It will be done, my lord.” Istvan nodded. “You heard him, you cocks! Fall out, double-time, and fight with honor and discipline! No bladed weapons, rifle butts only!”

  “Hey! Sweetcheeks!” Suri called to me from behind. I turned to see her in full armor, striding ahead of Rin, Ebisa, and Kitti Hussar and her entourage. The young Lady of Bas looked much better than when I’d first met her. Her hair and clothes were clean and she’d found armor that actually fit her, a sword the right size for her to use. The girl was vibrating with excitement.

  “Hey girl. And hey Kitti - how's it going?” I beamed at her, confused as to why she was out here but glad to see her anyway, and nodded to her scowling beetle-browed bodyguards. “Guys, look, we're going to have to take a double-pronged approach to this: putting down the riot and taking care of some of the city-based quests that caused. What’s your plan?”

  “The map on the KMS shows the Marketplace is the center of the riot. There’s a quest there, Clear the Market,” Suri replied crisply, coming to a stop with the others in tow. “We're gonna take it on and clean up the place. I ordered Vilmos to remain back here with a third of our total cavalry and the specialist units to protect the castle in case the rioters take it further than the city.”

  “I just ordered the troops to use a placation strategy,” I said. “We don’t have enough Renown to risk inciting a rebellion.”

  “I know.” Suri nodded. “And not enough troops for a suppression, as it stands. Kitti thinks she can help.”

  I eyed the girl and grimaced. “Uhh… you’re taking her into this?”

  “Kid says she's got to take back her county down south from some old pedo cunt.” Suri jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the young lady Hussar. “Seems like she could do to learn some berserking.”

  I winced. “I don’t know if this is a great idea.”

  “She’ll be right,” Suri drawled. “I killed my first man at fourteen. Nothin’ to it.”

  “Don't worry about me, your Grace. As long as I’m with Lady Suri, I’ll be fine,” Kitti gushed. “Besides, Letho and Gruna won't let any harm come to me. And I know how to use a megaphone!”

  Letho on the left - or Gruna, I wasn't sure - cracked his knuckles and grunted.

  “Works for me. In that case, Karalti and I'll take on the sanitation quest. We’ve restored water, but the sewers are backed up and that’s why everyone’s having a shitfit down there,” I replied. “No pun intended for once.”

  “You can’t go into the sewers!” Kitti exclaimed, looking up to Suri. “You’re the Voivode!”

  “There’s a big chunk of Renown on the hook for this mission,” I said. “Probably because half the city probably wants to throw me into the sewers anyway.”

  “But is Karalti not a dragon?” Kitti asked, wide-eyed. “How will she go with you into the sewers?”

  “She can change her shape,” Suri replied. “But can she fight in human form yet, Hector?”

  I winced. “No. Not really. Vash was going to teach her, but he’s down for the count. She can carry a torch or a magelight or something, though.”

  Suri snorted. “Roger
that. Good luck down there. Kill ‘em dead.”

  “Try not to kill them in the market.” I leaned in as Suri did, and let her kiss me on the cheek before pulling my helmet on. I clapped arms with Ebisa, and then – after they stared at my hand a moment – Letho and Gruna. Then I sprinted for Karalti, who huffed with indignation when I was close enough to mount.

  “I can do more than hold a torch, you know!” She flattened her crests, absently preening one of her hands. “I know some of what you know, I just… I haven't practiced it yet! But I cast spells!”

  “Don't worry. We'll figure something out.”

  Without passengers, there was no need for saddle straps. I bounded up onto her back with Jump, caught the leather grips near her shoulders, and held on as the Queen dragon bellowed a warning and flung herself into the air. She rose with giddy speed, far faster than any normal human could stand. I grinned as my head swam and my heart lifted and thumped down as she swooped over the walls, and leaned with her as she banked hard, then dived toward the smoking city below. After so many days of carrying passengers – Suri, Cutthroat, Masha and the others – it was liberating to be able to fly at full speed, full torque… a welcome relief before becoming mired in whatever shit we were bound to find under the city.

  ***

  The quest began at the entry to the Fol Alugut – Karhad’s main sewer line, which was so old and notable that it had its own name like a fancy mansion in Beverly Hills. Access was through a pair of heavy iron doors in the city’s waste treatment plant, where liquid for tanning and solid fertilizer for Racsa’s crops were produced. The plant was currently switched off, the mana tanks that powered the peeling machines lying idle. The collection pools had a smell so intense that it had a fucking texture.

  Neither the quest or the survey had given us any real clue as to what we were going to find in the sewers of Karhad, just that the blockage was most likely in the center of town: in the Hill District, the oldest part of Karhad. The Hill District housed both the ruined university and the oldest church of Khors in Myszno, the Holy Temple of the Crucible, both of which had been built on and over preexisting ruins left there by some long-forgotten human presence.