Chapter 8: A Wise Old Nut

Praefectus Tobias nodded his head sagely, then rose from his chair with a swiftness that belied the furrowed wrinkles and white caterpillar eyebrows that adorned his brow. The Arcane Magus turned to regard the waiting Praefecti, then sighed against his voluminous silver beard, wrapped tightly in a midnight-blue ribbon trimmed with silver, which attempted to tame the mound that was rumored to hide a one-eyed crow and two-headed rabbit along with the mischievous purple squirrel.

“I-I do not have to explain—too much,” Tobias began, his voice weary and crackled with age. “You are all Praeditus—A-Rankers—so you know how a Dissonance stone works. Yes. This small but powerful pebble—” the Mage appeared to pluck the very stone of which he spoke from his left ear and presented it on a quivering palm to the High Council “—can mask the wielder’s presence while delving inside a dungeon. Without it, any who dared to enter a Dementher dungeon would not pass beyond a few yards before they are swarmed and overrun by every monster that dungeon held.” He coughed and raised a frail, pale finger into the air. “Imagine, if you would, wrapping your body in cheese and then entering the city sewers. Eh? The starved rats would come running and little care how you—thrust—your mighty weapons at them!”

Beatrix smothered a laugh at the old man’s attempted stabbing motion. The Necromancer beside Tobias regarded the old man’s floundering weak movements with contempt as he shifted further away in his seat.

“Now, the Pillars of Dissonance work in much the same way. A Tier I Dissonance Pillar can shield anywhere between 53,000 to 56,000 souls!” Tobias explained as he readjusted the sleeves of his robe. “However, I will be the first to admit—that the science behind the power of the Dissonance Pillars is still a relatively new field of study. My fellow Magi in Ravencrest, Dawnskeep, and Silentvale are constantly analyzing the effects and adjusting our conjectures based on the physical evidence presented to us over the course of time.”

Commander Larkin sighed and pinched the bridge of his slightly crooked nose as he leaned back into his seat with the expression of one now resigned to a lecture they would happily run from.

“The past has taught us,” Tobias continued with his quivering finger raised once more, “that cities with a population of at least 15,000 which do not have a Pillar of Dissonance are 60-80% more likely to be targeted by a Dementher Gate.”

“Pardon me, Master Mage,” Praefectus Eli interjected, then awkwardly raised his hand with an apologetic smile directed to Paragon Delancy. “If you will allow me a question, Paragon?”

“Go ahead, Praefectus,” Delancy replied permissively with feigned patience.

“Thank you, Paragon.” The Praefectus bowed his head in gratitude. “I wanted to ask, Praefectus Tobias—Fraydale’s population was last recorded at just under 7,000 souls.” Eli spread his hands inquisitively. “Yet they became the target of a Dementher Gate?”

The necromancer’s bored expression turned incredulous as he rolled his eyes and exchanged glances with the Warden, who shook her head at their newest member’s ignorance.

“Also,” Eli continued unfazed, “if these dissonance stones are so useful, why can’t we give one to each citizen and refugee? Wouldn’t that solve the problem? Nearly every monster drops them after all.” He scoffed and turned towards the Warden, “Surely, the Sentinel Guild must have hordes of those rocks stored away somewhere?”

“Are you implying something, Praefectus Eli?” Warden Beatrix growled as she narrowed her chartreuse-green eyes dangerously on the man.

“Mmm—I understand your train of thought,” Tobias interjected, completely unaffected by the disgruntled exchange. “However short-sighted and grounded in mundane assumptions it may be.”

Delancy chuckled as several Praefecti sent Eli pointed dark looks that quickly compelled the Conqueror to return to his seat with a scowl as the Master Mage continued.

“A Dissonance Stone can last forever,” Tobias explained as he held up the dark grey pebble in his left palm. “If they are not taken outside the dungeon. Once the stones reach the surface, they begin to deteriorate. Their effect waning away within three to four weeks and all that is left—” the Mage gathered the stone on his thumb and index finger, then flicked into the air. The Praefecti watched the stone spiral up into the air before it abruptly descended and cracked open upon the floor like a stick of chalk, “—is little more than a paperweight.”

“We Sentinels do our best to harvest every dissonance stone dropped in Highguard’s dungeons,” Beatrix interjected with only the slightest edge to her voice. “As well as monsters hunted down around the capital and neighboring towns and villages. We collect roughly 4,000 Dissonance Stones for each new moon. Half of which are given back to my Sentinels to ensure they have every advantage at their disposal when delving or facing a Dementher Gate.”

“Half?” Eli blinked in disbelief. “Surely you do not need as many?”

“I have 2,800 Sentinels under my command,” Beatrix growled. “I could hardly accept any less.”

“But—do all two thousand need to enter the dungeons?”

“Are you suggesting I cut down on the size of my teams and place my Sentinels in danger?”

“Praefecti,” Delancy interjected. “The Sentinels under Warden Beatrix have always done their best to make use of their dissonance stones, and they ensure that the Mage Tower has enough stones to keep the Pillars recharged each month.”

“A task which requires just around 1,200 dissonance stones,” Tobias explained helpfully. “We stockpile what remains, but even if we somehow managed to build another Tier I tower, Highguard’s dungeons do not have the resources to keep both charged.”

“In short, Highguard’s single Tier I Pillar can only protect a population of 56,000 souls, and Highguard’s last census already stands at 54,371—as of two months ago,” Xander explained briskly, drawing the Warden’s attention away from the uncomfortable Master Craftsman. “We do not have the dissonance stone to build another Pillar, nor can we afford to maintain two pillars.”

“So taking in these refugees is impossible,” Praefectus Arlo responded bluntly. “Even allowing them to camp on our doorstep places us in jeopardy.”

“Yes, but does that matter?” Eli protested with a hint of annoyance. “If Fraydale can be targeted at random—”

“Ah yes, your earlier question,” Tobias interrupted with a snap of his fingers. “The targeting method of Dementher Gates remains largely a mystery. As you just said, some of their targets appear random, yet they do occasionally get it right, landing close to a town or city upon which they launch their invasion. However—” The Magus placed a hand over his eyes as he drew a fist full of peanuts from his robe, “—shooting in the dark results in more misses than direct hits.”

Delancy sighed as the eccentric Magus began flicking members of his Praefecti with squirrel nuts.

“We have received reports of them opening a gate above the Jabal Mounts or even several leagues out across the ocean.”

Arlo’s eyes glimmered green as a nut bounced off above his left eyebrow.

“Then do the Pillars really help?” Eli countered and promptly swatted away a nut sent flying in his direction.

“Well,” Tobias replied, stumbling slightly as he dropped his hand and squinted at Xander, who sat across from him, “the Magi’s records shown that this disparity in targeting has decreased over the years.” The Arcane Magus slumped back into his chair, suddenly exhausted from his lecture and antics. “Whatever system these invaders are using, they are constantly improving it—and their accuracy is getting better.”

The High Council chambers grew silent as the grim reality of Tobias’s words sank in. The arcane squirrel popped out of its master’s beard and scurried down his robes to claim the nuts left scattered on the floor. The scratching of the animal's nails seemed to irritate Commander Larkin, who shifted awkwardly in his seat as the tension stretched.

“Well,” Warden Beatrix commented, ending the grim silence. “That is a problem. So—what do we do about it?”

“You said the census was done two months ago,” Arlo murmured with an eerie calm. “We could be above the threshold already with all the refugees, merchants, and travelers that arrive at our gates daily.”

“That information may not even be accurate,” John Larkin commented. “It certainly wouldn't have an accurate number of the Erros who slum about the lower districts.”

“We could already be in trouble then,” Eli murmured, looking a tad paler than before. “Every refugee headed our way is a beacon calling a Dementher Gate down upon us!”

“To put it bluntly,” Xander chimed in as he turned towards the Paragon. “We cannot justify housing even the first three thousand refugees Paragon Thea sent us. Not if it means placing the lives of 56,000 souls at risk.”

“Spoken like a Banker,” John Larkin growled with a glimmer of disapproval.

“Spoken like a realist,” Beatrix corrected with a troubled sigh. “If we cannot take them in—then, at the very least, let us give them a path forward.”

“What would you suggest, Warden?” Delancy asked as he folded his hands together.

“Allow the refugees three days to rest, seek medical attention, and then send them west to Dawnkeep,” Beatrix replied firmly. “They have a Tier IV Pillar of Dissonance, so they can afford to take a few more souls.”

“A journey to the Capital is two weeks on foot,” Delancy replied. “Monsters and bandits would likely pick off most, if not all of them on their way there.”

“They’ll also need supplies,” Xander added reasonably.

Eli scowled at the head of the Merchant Banker’s Guild. “And which guild would you be expecting to cover such costly generosity?” the Leader of the Traders & Craftsman Association demanded.

“We all will!” Paragon Delancy announced in a tone that broached no argument. “Warden Beatrix has the right idea. Those that can move will be outfitted and resupplied for the journey. Beatrix can assign four or five sentinel teams to escort them on their way to Dawnkeep.”

“Would it not be best for them to return to their original town once Paragon Thea has closed the gate?” Arlo inquired with a frown. “Salvage what remains and rebuild the rest.”

“Even with the gate closed, it will take the Sentinels some time to clean up any monsters that escaped their net,” Beatrix reasoned cautiously.

Arlo spread his pale boney fingers and ran them through his long, oily locks. “Seems to me there will always be monsters, Warden. Whether in Fraydell, on the road to Dawnkeep, or here.”

Beatrix frowned at the necromancer’s comment.

“I say we allow the refugees to make that choice,” John Larkin suggested reasonably. “I’m willing to volunteer some of my soldiers to assist the Sentinels and provide the teams needed to escort the refugees on either path.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are,” Beatrix commented with a hint of irritation.

“Thank you, Commander,” Delancy replied hastily, eager to avoid another fight between the divorced couple. “I think that would only be fair and beneficial as far as rebuilding Fraydale. The appearance of a gate could mean the emergence of a new dungeon. Our Sentinels should scout the area and stake a claim to it if possible.” He glanced around the table of Praefecti, who all slowly nodded in agreement.

“I would suggest allowing them to rest no more than two days,” Tobias said softly, still slumped over in his chair. “The longer they have to sit and contemplate the danger of the journey, the more likely they are to cause a fuss and delay their departure. Even if you arrested them, that would only cause further delay. Some of them might even try to get arrested in order to get inside Highguard’s walls.”

“And our prisons are already largely filled with Erros,” Larkin commented darkly.

“That will be addressed shortly,” Delancy replied with a smile that drew worried looks from his Praefecti. “As you have already determined, Highguard’s population is dangerously high, even without taking the refugees into calculation. So, as Highguard’s Paragon, I have decided to impose martial law.”

Several Praefecti exclaimed their surprise, but Delancy calmly raised his hand for silence.

“We will begin by imposing a stricter curfew. Also, the City Guard will perform another census to check on the growth of the Esus in the lower district. I would suggest combing through your homes to ensure each Esus you have employed is properly documented. If they are not, bring it to the City Guard’s attention immediately.

“As for our already burdened prisons,” Delancy turned his attention to Commander Larkin. “I would ask that you move up any death sentence already stamped by a Judge’s approval. These executions will be carried over the next few days. I will inform Judge Mathew, Judge Owens, and Judge Elouise that all trials for murder, assault, rape, dungeon poaching, and any other crimes will take precedence and must be resolved over the next six days. All convicted Erros will be delivered to the chopping block immediately after a guilty verdict has been delivered.”

Praefectus Arlo nodded somberly as he meticulously connected each of his bony fingertips while a smile tugged at the corner of his scarred lips.

‘You sick bastard. I know what you’re thinking.’

“But—Paragon!” Beatrix protested quickly as the rest of the Praefecti stirred with surprise and uncertainty. “What if they are innocent and wrongly accused!?”

Delancy smiled as his blood-orange eyes turned to Xander, who scowled in return as if sensing the Paragon’s intentions. “We have our own method of determining whether they are truly guilty or not, Warden. So put your concerns to rest.”