by Aleron Kong
Thankful that he’d never been dumb enough to voice that last thought out loud, he moved on to the next tile of the village’s status page. The Health of the group was something he really, really didn’t want to fall. Living as the lord of a medieval village was all well and good… as long as it didn’t actually get medieval up in here!
The rewards provided for having reached rank two in the village dynamic were modest, but certainly better than the alternative. On Earth, he’d been a passing student of history as well as a medical student, so he definitely understood the importance of having a healthy population. Richter had a real fear of his population becoming diseased. He’d even had Randolphus start stressing the importance of regular bathing to the villagers. Some of these guys and gals were a bit too used to walking around smelling like an old jock strap.
On a more serious note though, Richter knew that disease could make whole civilizations crumble. The Black Death had wiped out hundreds of millions of people and had stalled progress in Europe for centuries. He didn’t even want to think about what the magical equivalent of a plague would bring. The only one he knew about had wiped the entire pixie race off the face of The Land. It was a profound relief to see that the village was healthy.
The Productivity tab was also exciting. His people built things and accomplished tasks significantly faster at this point. As soon as Roswan came back from his Trial, buildings would be popping up like groundhogs on Viagra. It also meant that the speed with which the village could make weapons and armor should increase substantially. That would definitely help fulfill his trade treaty with Hisako and outfit his people for the upcoming battle with the undead.
It was the last tab that really caught his attention. He knew that his two Scholars, Bartle and Bea, had been recruiting more researchers from amongst the villagers. He had no idea they had been so successful though. While anyone could just sit around and think, of course, the village could only progress in its technology through people that had the Research skill. Every skill level in Research meant that a person could add 0.1 Research Points to the daily village pool. Reaching higher ranks of the skill increased that.
It wasn’t enough just to have the skill, however. A person had to spend at least eight hours a day trying to advance a certain tech in order to ensure that their skill would be added to the daily total. Bartle and Bea both hated research, Richter recalled with a smile. Despite that, it was clear they hadn’t been shirking their duties. The two Scholars had initially only been able to generate about four Research Points between them. They had both advanced at least one skill level in Research since coming to the village. They had also recruited enough people to almost double the number of RPs being generated in the House of Scholarship each day. Richter added the Scholars to his ‘get them a fruit basket’ list.
Richter reviewed the status page one more time before closing it. Then he checked his debuff icon for Cherished Sadness. The heart symbol that had been fully green was now half red. The timer showed he still had five hours and twenty-one minutes left until it faded completely. The effects from the pixies’ Song of Honored Loss were much less powerful now, and he no longer felt such an intense ache in his chest. He actually felt a bit better than he’d expected he would. The loss of motivation was also less acute, but Richter decided to just keep lying on the ground. He listened to his people talk around him and to the soft song of the pixies. Soon he was drifting off, and with each passing second the pixies’ Song continued to heal his wounded soul.
CHAPTER 19 – Day 142 – Kuborn 32, 0 AoC
“My lord.” A hand shook his shoulder lightly, and a soft voice repeated, “My lord, it is time to wake.”
Richter opened his eyes. The canopy of the Quickening was thick enough that little direct sunlight came through, but the morning was shining all around him. He blinked and focused on his chamberlain’s face. His fake face, Richter thought to himself for a moment. Then he realized, that didn’t really matter to him at all. After all, his own face was not exactly the one he’d been born with, at least on Earth. Besides, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so…good.
A quick check showed that the Cherished Sadness debuff had faded. He reached a hand out and Randolphus helped him to his feet. Many of the villagers were still relaxing beneath the leaves of the Quickening, but others were up and about. An easy smile found its way to his face. The pixies’ Song of Honored Loss hadn’t just helped him deal with the deaths of his people, it also seemed to have eased the weight of the many other worries and responsibilities that had slowly been burdening his soul. He felt like he had been washed clean. Richter hadn’t forgotten anything but, at least for the moment, he wasn’t distracted by worries and self-recriminations. He felt… at peace.
Richter looked around. From the expressions on his people's faces, many of them felt the same way he did. He turned his attention back to his chamberlain. With a light and happy voice, he asked, “Hey man. What’s going on?”
“The day is marching on, my lord. You seemed to need the rest, but now that the effect of the pixies’ Song has faded, there are things I believe must be brought to your attention. The first of which is tonight’s celebration.”
Richter gave a carefree nod, but didn’t respond immediately. He just started walking towards the Dragon’s Cauldron. He was starving, but he also didn’t like the fact that he had absolutely no health, stamina or mana potions in his bag. Also, he needed to know where his familiar was.
*Alma? Where are you, love?*
*I am hunting,* came the immediate reply. The dragonling sent him an aerial view of the mountains north of the village. *You slept so long,* she sent with a bit of annoyance and more than a touch of boredom.
*I needed it,* he sent back in mock defense.
*Hmphf,* came the reply, with an insouciant hint of feminine disdain. *Would you like me to come back now? You don’t need another nap?*
*Just get your scaly butt back here!* he sent with a laugh. *I think it’s time we explore the Dungeon. Feel like a little battle?*
*Mmmmm,* she thought to him, a blend of excitement and hunger. Her view changed quickly as she banked and started winging back towards the village.
Richter turned his attention back Randolphus, “Now, what’s this about a party? We just buried our dead. Why would we throw a party?”
The chamberlain’s voice was more serious than Richter would have expected, “We must have a celebration tonight, my lord. What you did last night was amazing and appreciated. It was also unexpected. Most inhabitants of The Land would never expect a lord to hold a ceremony for his fallen soldiers. The fact that you took the time to do so endeared you to many of your people. Moreover, when the gnome woman challenged you, you not only addressed her question respectfully, you also reminded all present of why they should believe in both you and the village. It was a masterful stroke.”
“That’s not why I did it,” Richter said. Definitely not the main reason anyway. His response came out a bit more harshly than he intended. He wasn’t above a bit of manipulation here and there, but it offended him that anyone would think he would use the death of his men and women as a PR tool.
“Of course, my lord,” Randolphus said readily, but he still eyed his liege’s face a moment before continuing. “It was wonderfully appreciated that you would show such concern for your people,” the chamberlain repeated. “No matter how well-received and well-intentioned however, last night was a recognition of death. What the people need and expect, Lord Richter, is a celebration of life. You have destroyed an enemy stronghold. You are a conquering lord. Even more importantly, you have protected them and their children. The army even managed to bring back treasure which will ensure the village’s future. Tonight is about reminding the people of these facts and letting them share in your glory… and a bit of the spoils. It would not be wise to take that from them, my lord.”
Richter internalized his chamberlain’s words. He did remember from history that there was always a fea
st after battles. It had never occurred to him that there might be a reason deeper than there was just nothing better to do than get drunk and smashed, back then. Everything Randy was saying made sense though, “Okay, how intense should this celebration be?”
A faint smile crept onto the chamberlain’s face, “I would say the more intense the better.”
“Hmmm,” Richter responded speculatively. They had made their way to the Dragon’s Cauldron. The sunlight shone through the glass building, creating beautiful rainbows of color all around it. It was the cascade of colors that let you know the building was made of impossibly hard glass, not the fragile silica found in most window panes. He walked inside and surveyed his Core building; this was one of the tools that would make him a force to be reckoned with in The Land. Richter took in a deep breath of satisfaction and promptly fell to his knees, hacking and wheezing. Randolphus fell right behind him.
A set of shapely legs clad in brown leather rushed up to him, “My lord!” came Tabia’s muffled voice. “Let me help you.” The Alchemist’s strong arms helped both him and Randolphus out of the Cauldron. Once they were out in the clean, fresh air, Richter’s breathing began to ease and the timer next to the new icon in the corner of his vision sped up.
You are Choking after exposure to an unknown caustic gas. Time left to normal breathing 00:00:03…
A few deep breaths later, Richter was able to stand and speak, “Wha tha fuk, Taya!” He configured his fingers and spoke a word of Power to restore the few points of health he had lost inhaling the gas. The soreness in his throat eased, so he tried again, “What the fuck, Tabia?”
The elf stood tall, the perfect picture of functional athletic muscles. She and her wife had served as mercenaries for decades, and it had left her without an ounce of fat on her supple form. Tabia’s hair fell in well-manicured dreadlocks down her back, held in place by a simple cord of brown leather. Her body was covered neck to toe in brown leather as well, including soft brown gloves. When Richter had first seen her so attired, he had asked why she was dressed for battle while in the lab. She had just given a sure and pleasing laugh, explaining that her battle leathers were much thicker. Then she had gone on to say that only a fool worked with chemical reagents without protecting one’s skin.
“I apologize for the fumes, my lord,” she said. “You need to wear one of these.” Tabia pointed to the folded cloth that was tied over her nose and mouth. “It will let you breathe the fumes without ill effect.”
“Perhaps you could let people know that before they enter the building, Alchemist Tabia,” Randolphus said with the slightest acerbic edge. Richter raised a hand to heal the chamberlain, but the man spoke his own word of Power and blue light surrounded his fingers. A moment later, his health was replenished. The chaos seed looked at him in mild surprise. Randy just raised one sardonic eyebrow in response.
“Most know not to enter my laboratory without invitation,” she responded with a touch of heat.
This time, it was Richter’s turn to arch an eyebrow as he looked at her. Tabia quickly corrected, “Your laboratory, my lord. I meant your laboratory, of course.”
“Uh huh,” Richter said dryly. “Are those for us?” he said pointing to the white rags in her hand.
Tabia nodded and handed them both large wet handkerchiefs to wear over their noses and mouths. Then she walked back into the Cauldron. Sharing a look, then taking a deep breath, they followed her back into the glass building. Thankfully, she was right. The cloths let them breathe easily and the fumes didn’t irritate their eyes at all.
“Did you make these?” Richter asked. He didn’t know she had any Crafting skill.
“The masks are just simple fabric. It is the potion they are steeped in that is making is possible for you to breath.” Tabia motioned to a large beaker with clear liquid and more strips of cloth in it. “This potion is known to almost every alchemist and is one of the first that alchemy students are taught to create. It filters simple smoke and noxious gases.”
“That sounds useful,” Richter said in approval. “Can you teach me?”
“Of course, my lord. It is a rudimentary formula. Please understand that it will not protect against gaseous poisons. It is already recorded whenever you wish to learn it,” she told him, gesturing to a glass cubby with three leather bound books inside. “I have been writing down every recipe I know and each that I learn as you instructed, my lord. One of the Scholars comes by every few days to copy the information. The brown is the original. The two black books are the copies.”
Richter nodded. It seemed like his village was starting to run like a well-tuned clock. He wanted a physical version of the knowledge his villagers had. It had quickly become clear to him that it was common practice in The Land to hoard information. Even when it was passed down, it often seemed to be done by oral tradition. That wasn’t what he planned to do. He wanted his people to be educated and powerful… within reason. Some information would have to be earned, and the most sensitive knowledge might have to be kept close to his chest.
Richter walked up to the cubby and placed his hand upon it. He accessed the building’s interface.
Greetings, Master of the Dragon’s Cauldron. Do you wish to add a lock to this cubby? This will cost 0.5 Alteration Points, but the minimum charge is 1 point. Currently, there are 53/100 Alteration Points available in your Core building at level one. Yes or No?
Richter frowned a moment. He changed the mental picture of what he wanted slightly and tried again.
Greetings, Master of the Dragon’s Cauldron. Do you wish to obscure and add locks to these four cubbies? This will cost 4 Alteration Points. Currently, there are 53/100 Alteration Points available in your Core building at level one. Yes or No?
Richter chose “Yes” and watched the four cabinets change. The glass took on a frosted appearance, hiding everything inside. The handles also disappeared. There didn’t appear to be any way to open the cubbies now. He placed his hand on the one he wanted to open though and received the expected prompt asking if he wanted to access the contents. The elementum chest he had made in The Forge of Heavens had the same touch interface. With a smile, he gave access to Tabia, Bartle, Bea, Sion and Randolphus.
“Keep anything sensitive or valuable in these,” he instructed his Alchemist. Richter put one of the black books in his bag. He’d study it later to learn the recipes. “Now, let me see my private stock.”
Tabia led him to a counter in the back and opened the cabinet doors. Reaching down, she pulled out a simple glass bottle and handed it to him.
You have found:
Harsh Moonshine
Alcohol Class: Common
Alcohol Sensation: Rough
Alcohol Strength: Blackout
Durability: 3/3
Weight: 1.5 kg.
Traits: Intoxication with this alcohol will cause -2 Agility, -1 Dexterity, +15% to lyrical composition
The Cauldron had a power that increased the power of potions the longer they sat in the building. These bottles hadn’t been sitting around long enough for it to kick in, unfortunately. Even without a magical boost though, he was pretty sure this hooch would make a dent in anyone that drank it. Richter summoned a mist worker and pulled out fifteen bottles of the stuff. The summoned construct formed indentations in its body that he could slip the moonshine into. In the end, it looked like a hobo’s Christmas tree.
“This should help with the party tonight,” he said to Randy.
“I will put these to good use,” the chamberlain said, eyeing the bottles dubiously. “Geomancer Zarr is at his Trials, but I will also see if we have any untapped casks of the drink he concocted for the last celebration.”
“Goatbanger?” Tabia blurted out.
“Pardon?” Randolphus asked as both men slowly turned their heads to look at the brown-skinned wood elf.
“Ah,” she began bashfully, “after the last party, I asked Zarr what he called the spell he had cast on the ale. He said it was named… Goatbanger. App
arently, he had stumbled upon the spell while experimenting with friends as a young man. The story he told me was that they finally figured out the spell and drank themselves stupid. After they were so drunk they couldn’t see straight, one of his friends tried to walk to the local brothel. He was so drunk however, that he fell over a fence into a goat pen, and…”
“Wait!” Richter called out raising a hand. “This story cannot be true.”
She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “I said the same thing when Zarr told it to me, my lord. The dwarf just said that was also the day they invented the phrase, ‘Ruttin on Mutton.’ His friend apparently left the village in shame, though with several goats in tow. The name of the spell stuck.”
The three of them just stood there awkwardly for a few moments. “Uhhh,” Richter began. “I’m fine with this, but let’s make sure there are two guards watching the animal pens.”
“A wise precaution, my lord,” Randolphus agreed. He wrote it down on his clipboard. Even the Spy’s cultured voice was somewhat off-kilter after Tabia’s story, but after having seen the entire village lose control the last time they drank Zarr’s enchanted brew, he was leaving nothing to chance. The chamberlain gave an order to the mist worker and it slowly started walking towards the feast area. The constructs were a common sight in the village and the cooks would know what to do with the alcohol.
Richter told Tabia to hand over any health potions she had created. After walking over to another cubby, she removed a tray that held dozens of vials of red liquid. Richter smiled when he read the prompt. The elf didn’t disappoint.
You have found:
Health Potion x 50
Alchemy Class: Uncommon.
Alchemy Level: Solution
Alchemy Strength: Processed
Durability: 5/5
Weight: 0.1 kg.
Traits: Will restore 451 Health Points over 16 seconds.