Chapter Seventeen - A Thoughtful Trip

“I wonder, sometimes, just how different this world has become.

For all the changes in culture, in the system, and even in the environment itself, there’s so much that is the same.”

***

A warlock.

Initially, learning that the limpet had changed classes and turned into a warlock, one that seemed patroned to me, of all things, was something of a surprise.

So, as will all things that I found surprising, I buried the emotion under a pile of observations and knowledge.

The carriage soon took on a very hectic quality as I took out tome after tome and found myself leafing through millenia-old texts for little tidbits of information. The merchants accompanying us looked somewhat uncomfortable at having their laps used as table space, but the limpet and Alex, at least, didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, the limpet was grinning so wide I was afraid she might injure her own cheeks.

We were well on our way to the next city over when I had gathered enough answers from my rather old sources to at least sate my initial curiosity.

A warlock, as anyone ought to know, is a practitioner of magic and sorcery that uses the power of another to power their own magical and supernatural feats. That is, instead of understanding the weave of magic enough to manipulate it--as a wizard would--or using some inner strength to force magical phenomena to occur--as with a sorcerer--a warlock instead begs and grovels for some greater entity to act on their behalf.

Warlocks were generally one of the types of casters that I respected the least. After bards, of course.

So, what did it mean that the limpet was now a warlock?

More importantly, what did it mean that I was now her patron?

I didn’t have many texts that dealt with warlocks from the patron side of things. I’d dissected plenty of warlocks to see how their magic worked, of course, and I’d even broken some patron-warlock bonds to see what would happen, but I’d never asked someone who was a patron how their patronage functioned.

An oversight. I should have taken more time and thought things through a little more, but that was thousands of years ago.

The current situation did present some opportunities. Being that I was the one in the position of patron now, I could fully explore that side of things.

On the other hand, this entire thing might have been some sort of fluke. It would be difficult to pin-point exactly which circumstances lead to the class change being so favourable. Or at least, so interesting.

“Limpet,” I asked.

“Yes Master!” the limpet jumped to reply. She was still smiling, though I idly noted that she was also blinking a lot, and her posture had shifted so that she was slumping a little more. The girl was likely tired already.

“Do you feel any different? Do you have any senses that you didn’t have previously?”

The limpet tilted her head, considering. “I don’t think so,” she said.

I also didn’t notice anything bizarre. But then, there was a lot more of me than there was of the limpet. It was entirely possible that I wouldn’t notice a magical syphon that pulled some of my power away. After all, the infinitesimally small amount that the limpet could manage was less than the amount of magical energy I lost merely as residual ‘heat’ from existing.

I slid a tome back into a pocket and leaned back so that I could properly tap my chin in thought. Classes, generally, dictated the direction of a person’s growth. They often--but not always--correlated directly with the abilities and spells that someone could master.

That wasn’t to say that a fighter couldn’t learn how to cast a spell or two with enough practice, it was just easier for a wizard to cast that same spell. Likewise, a wizard could pick up a sword and shield and go about in plate armour if they wished, they just wouldn’t be as effective as a warrior.

So what did it mean that the limpet was a warlock in that regard?

It was a magical casting class, though one that still had a few physical abilities. Something like the opposite of a paladin, really.

Did that mean that the limpet would more easily learn spells that I taught her? Or spells which I assisted her in casting?

Something to test.

Warlocks also tended to act on behalf of their patrons in exchange for greater power. At least, so they claimed. I suspect that in reality, the act of doing something challenging is what gave them greater power. The gifts later bestowed upon them by their patron was merely a cherry on top.

I nodded to myself.

Yes, that was something else I could test. I would give the limpet some challenges, things that I suspected she could accomplish, and I would measure the differences in growth whether I rewarded her or not.

There was another thing to consider. The contract. Every mention of warlocks I had come across mentioned a contract between warlock and patron. Some of these were binding on the level of the soul, others were far more lenient to both parties.

When had the limpet and I entered into anything of the sort?

Was it when she agreed to be my test subject?

Interesting!

“You look very excited,” Alex said.

“Indeed,” I said. “This is an entirely new avenue of research.”

I turned to the limpet to ask her something, but she currently had her head leaning against my arm, her eyes closed and her breath escaping with little whistles.

I let her be for the moment. Our later tests would require that she be in good health, which meant some sleep was required.

I wondered what it meant that I could become a patron. I’d heard and witnessed some non-deity creatures becoming patrons to some warlocks. There were patrons among the fey, demons both lesser and greater, even the occasional lich.

The advantage for the patron seemed to come from the contract itself, in the sense that in exchange for sharing a modicum of their power, they gained someone capable of acting on their behalf.

“F-forgive me, sir?”

I looked out across from me where a young man was sitting, a couple of my books on his lap. “Yes?” I asked.

“Um, forgive me if this is presumptive, master, but are you perhaps the one that, um, eliminated the Four Venoms sect?”

“Oh, yes, that was me,” I said. “Well, myself and Alex here. He did assist.”

Alex waved.

“Ah, yes, I see,” the man said.

“Why do you ask?” I wondered.

The man shifted a little. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. “I was just curious. Seeing as how we’re moving to Dolsrus, if you intended to do the same there.” He bowed, bending in half from his seated position. “I don’t mean any offence, of course.”

“Oh? No, no I have no such intentions,” I said. “Even the Four Vemons sect was merely a bit of a misunderstanding that went too far. I do try my utmost to be as polite and accommodating as I can be.”

“Truly, master is too humble,” the merchant said. That was a bit much as far as rear-kissing went, but merchants would be merchants. “If master doesn’t intend to bring such violence to Dolsrus, then perhaps we don’t have anything to worry about.”

“I don’t intend to do anything violent,” I said. “I rarely do. Though I am equipped to answer to any violence that might happen around me.”

The man swallowed. “Yes, of course,” he said with a glance to the skeletons and shades currently escorting our carriage. ‘That’s entirely master’s prerogative.”

“Perhaps if you told me a little about this Dolsrus city I could avoid causing any sort of issue,” I said.

The merchant bowed again. “It would be my honour to assist you, master. Dolsrus is a larger settlement than Venoms End, next to the Silent Lake. There is much motion there, as warriors use the city as a staging point before travelling to the south to combat the barbarians.”

“I see,” I said to encourage him to go on.

“Ah, yes. It’s a nice place to sell certain goods. I’m afraid that I only know the city from the perspective of a merchant.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “My own father was a pottery salesman. I know a thing or two about the merchant’s art.”

“That’s incredible, master,” the man said. “Ah, right, Dolsrus is ruled by a council in three parts. The upper merchants, the priests of the Silent Lake Temple, and the masters of the Jade Golem’s sect.”

“Can you tell me anything about these priests?” I leaned forwards a little, then stopped when the limpet shifted.

The merchant cringed. “I’m afraid I cannot say much. Forgive me. The priests are very powerful. They serve the kami of the lake, and will bless a caravan for a fee, but I know little else. They are very quiet. Some say they are all mute, but I think that is an exaggeration.”

“Have you ever encountered this kami?” I asked.

The merchant shook his head. “No, I was never so fortunate, master.”

“No bother then,” I said. “What can you tell me about the sect that rules over the region?”

“The Jade Golem sect? They are well known throughout the empire. Their art is very distinctive and impressive to behold, especially the titans that guard Dolsrus.”

“And what is that art?” I asked.

The merchant smiled, genuinely excited for once. ‘Ah, they made great figures and dolls that they call golems. Then, through their magic and craft, they breathe life into these so that they stand and move and act all on their own. It is like a puppet show, but many times more impressive.”

“I see,” I said. So the golems were, simply put, actual golems. That would be interesting to see. The practice wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to me. It was actually somewhat similar to creating an undead, though a little more involved.

The wizards I knew who practiced such magic tended to spend long hours on their artifice, ensuring that every joint was just so, and hiding all sorts of clever contraptions within their creations.

At the upper levels, they could be quite the nightmare to face in battle. Though they did suffer a few notable weaknesses. Long hours and complex procedures to create them made the undead a far preferable choice for me.

“I look forward to seeing these golems,” I said. “And you mentioned titans?”

Those are the personal golems of the sect elders. They are monstrously huge machines of gold and jade and other precious materials. They guard the city from the barbarians and monsters and the undea--” the merchant cut himself off with a choke.

“We’ll have to disguise ourselves then,” I said. “If it would prevent the locals from having a snit.”

Alex gasped. “Can I have a disguise?” he asked.

“You’re already dressed as a maid,” I said. “How else would you disguise yourself?”

“I could add some bows? Maybe be a princess?”

I stared at my butler for a moment. “I don’t think that would hold up to any scrutiny,” I said. “We can pretend to be merchants, or perhaps merely pilgrims. Are there pilgrims that visit this kami?”

The merchant nodded. “There are. Not as many as some other kami, but still some.”

“And which ones are more popular?” I asked.

“Ah, that would depend. There are many kami in the land of Gates. And some dangerous monster kami in the land of ashes. These wander about, and some people offer them things to obtain their safety.” The man smiled. “Of course, the greatest is the lord emperor.”

“Really now?” I asked rhetorically. “And where could I find him?”

The merchant’s face blanched a little. “At, at the Jade Throne? Perhaps?”

I grinned. “Maybe I’ll extend my pilgrimage that way one day.”

***