《Techno-Heretic》Calm Before the Storm
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Jeff woke up from his bed to see black nothingness before fumbling his hands to the left. When he finally felt the familiar crystal tip, his vision returned. Not for the first time, he thought on the contradiction his room represented. His whole life among the Coalition he had been surrounded by luxurious carpeting, attending maids, and the finest silk clothes. If he had been the same person he had been a year ago, he would have mentally scoffed at the rough clothing, bare stone room, and austere wooden bed. Though, the mana lamp just to his left giving off a light golden glow would have gotten some approval. But this place was the first to ever wake him up with a fully heated room. Even the Diamond academy with its posh luxuries was limited by the local mana and couldn’t provide heating enchantments to warm his home as thoroughly as Eli had done here.
Of course, he was still a lot happier back in those cold rooms with the company of...
Shirking away from the gaping abyss in his soul, Jeff pushed his brown blanket forward and rubbed his slight chin. Getting a grey shirt and leather pants from a chest at the foot of his bed, he opened the wooden door to his room and went out onto the walkway with a shake of his almost shoulder-length black hair. He was on the middle floor of the housing areas nine stories and below he could see the various goat-headed people moving about getting ready for their day. Walking down, he came to the ground floor and picked up a towel from a large communal basket.
Waiting in line for his morning duties, the surrounding crowd paid him no mind with only the occasional passerby giving him that weird sideways nod. They had all learned of his and his brother's abilities, but none of the women had pestered them. Andrew was decidedly not interested and Jeff was at a point where he knew his mental state was blaring out for all to see and he couldn’t give a troll’s rotten toenail who did. Quickly getting showered and dressed, Jeff put his dirty clothes in another big communal bin on his way to the door and across the open hallway of bare stone.
Coming into the kitchen, he took a left and went up to the open bar. Taking a bowl of the ever-present fish stew he turned back around towards the rows of long tables. Moving a bit closer to the door, the lightning mage sat down with nothing but the glow of mana lamps above to accompany him. He had heard that the farms would be producing their first crops in the next few days but today’s meal reflected few vegetables. Sometimes he felt positively normal, other times, he wondered how he found the energy to move. Feeling lucky that today was one of the former, he ate in silence until his older brother sat in front of him wearing the same clothes and eating the same meal. Though his red hair provided a bigger contrast with the grey shirt.
“Where’s Gretton?” Jeff asked before putting in his last spoonful of stew.
“Probably in the workshop. He likes to go there after we train or when he’s not outside with Cell.” Andrew quietly answered.
Jeff felt the simmering tension between him and his brother, but he still tried to act like everything was fine.
“I heard we’ll be heading out to a human settlement later today when Salamede comes back.”
Andrew got a slight smile and his shoulders relaxed.
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“Aye. Where or how I don’t know yet. But I don’t think it will involve one of the more northern Kelton ships. ”
The black-haired brother nodded in agreement.
‘Based on how aggressive some of the Keltons are, I don’t think I want to sail on one of their ships anyway.’ Jeff said in a spirit connection. Though, given the circumstances, a human vessel may not be any friendlier than any other.
With that, their morning conversation ended. Getting up, they both headed towards the exit but as they came up to the double iron doors, the exemplar of everything humanity aspired to become blocked them. The quad mage's purple eyes looked between them with a nod before he coughed into the hand he put over his strong chin.
“Before we send you out, we have a few items we need to see to. If you have the time.” He said gently. The two brothers looked between each other for a moment before nodding. Following him, they eventually came into the meeting room. It was bright enough with the mana lamps around the stone walls and columns. What drew their eyes was the chair on the right pulled away from the large table in the middle of the room.
“Going out into the world will require you to interact with humans. I don’t think anyone in the backwater villages here will recognize you, but if you ever meet someone with knowledge of the Coalition or its leadership… Well, I hope I don’t need to expound on how your curious features will become an item of great interest.”
“Our features?” Andrew scoffed, looking at the man's silver hair and purple eyes with raised eyebrows and puckered lips.
Eli smiled as he motioned towards the empty chair with a wave of his right arm.
“I assure you, I would not subject you to anything I would not be willing to go through myself.”
‘What do you think?’ Jeff asked his brother in a spirit connection. ‘I don’t know if I want mothers eyes gone.’
‘If mother knew about what we’re doing here, the last thing she’d have a problem with is changing the color of our eyes.’
The verbal sting made Jeff visibly flinch, but he knew his brother's temperament was not one of malice. Taking a moment to collect himself, he moved forward.
“Fine, but will you be able to change it back afterward?” The black-haired man said as he sat backward in the chair.
“I will take as long as is needed to get the right shade once the time for secrecy ends. But I think remaking the irises and Andrews's hair to brown is all that is required.”
Warm eyeballs were never something Jeff thought he’d experience. But as Eli continued to suck in mana, an odd heat seeped into his spheres. The weirdness of the sensation quickly passed as he got up and stepped to the right to let Andrew have his turn. After a few minutes, Jeff had a hard time not laughing. Andrews's face of a normal chin and strong cheekbones was the same as ever, but in Jeff’s eyes, the brown color in his hair made it look like a wig. Something that kept trying to force a chuckle up his throat.
After a quick glare of pure malice, Andrew turned back to the quad mage on his left.
“I suppose Gretton is staying here on all of our adventures.”
Eli shook his head, causing the former red-head to raise an eyebrow.
“I’ve talked with the Keltons. The mountains farther out west are home to a permanent settlement of Orcs. It’s also home to a wide array of apes. I don’t know how similar to Gretton they are but once we have a good idea of their fur colorings and body structure, I’ll have him accompany you as a pet or animal guard. In the meantime, Cell is going to be doing more guard duty around one of your necks.”
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“He has more experience with familiar communication” Jeff offered with a swing of his black hair towards Andrew.
With their changes made, the two men left the meeting room and went about their day's work. Between helping out with the new ship and its tests, an issue that had been every bit as painful as Eli predicted, and all of the other smaller jobs around their stone home, the two never struggled with boredom. When late midday/early afternoon rolled around, the large ship finally came back as they stood by the workshop door. The black mass of Cell came up through the cave and landed on Eli’s shoulder. After a few seconds, Eli nodded as a mirth-ridden smile crossed his face.
As the large ceiling lifted open, the bow of the larger ship came through. Cell must have relayed some message, because as Salamede came down the ladder on its left, Eli didn’t move to kiss and hug the grey-furred Kelton woman. Her leather coat with white fluff flapped as she shot across the hangar towards the workshop. They didn’t see anything suggesting an injury, but she still ran like a starving troll was right on her heels. Shrugging between themselves, they continued their work on the ship for a few more minutes before Eli called for them in the meeting room.
As they went through the iron door, they saw the quad mage sitting in the chair closest to his room's door while a steamy Salamede sat on his left with a towel around her neck that made her goatish head look like she had a puffy collar.
“Things went well.” Salamede’s announced with the rough voice typical of her kind as the two brothers moved to sit opposite of the couple. “I have a few good leads on where we could send you. Miles north of Rashton, the official title of the local capital and a name that was quite the pain to track down, is a large island that acts as a base for the local fleet. The humans have several smaller villages doing whatever small jobs need doing. Most are focused on mining, though some are dedicated to tanneries, farms, or smithing.”
Jeff raised an eyebrow, making her stop.
“Entire settlements dedicated to leather tanning?”
Salamede shrugged her shoulders.
“That’s what a few of the humans said. But for our purposes, the main item of interest was a particular settlement called Mole Hill. Despite its name, it’s one of the bigger settlements and acts as a stop for larger ships going through the area. Most of which are military vessels coming into port from Pesstoons Watch, a large naval base that houses something between a military and police force that patrols the ocean.”
Salamede then rubbed her grey fur against the white towel and Eli took that as an opportunity to take over.
“You two are going to be one of the many, many sailors who were lost at sea. Get with Kantor and the older Keltons for whatever scraps of knowledge they have about northern sailing, but your mainly going to sell yourselves as men from the Coalition whose ship got pulled into an ill-fated trade in these cold lands.”
Andrew nodded as he leaned back with a rub of his now brown hair.
“That’ll explain why we need to ask about everything like we’re newborns. But I don’t think ‘What shade of green do you like your women’ will be a very good conversation starter. Did you find out anything that would help us figure out where we should start looking for Orcs?”
Salamede coughed, taking a moment to rub her moist grey fur before she turned back to us.
“There is a group who is most notorious for such an association. Waveborn is their common name, after the fact that their lives are defined by the seas. Orc plowers are what the few humans I could talk to called them. They sail the ocean in massive ships that hold their families as they move goods, fish, and do whatever else they need to do to stay alive. As such, I’d say they’d be willing to take on some passengers with silver. We’ll see if we can find one that’s good to drop you in front of. Though the way to tell takes time and I don’t know how long you’ll be twiddling your thumbs in the sky. One item of interest that might come up, a lot of the humans I talked to praised the lack of kings in the north. Use that bit how you see fit if it ever comes up.”
“As far as our time in Mole Hill goes,” Jeff said with a bit of hope. “I don’t suppose meager sailors would have sacks of silver on them.”
Eli and Salamede gave him a pitying look.
“Sadly, no.” The quad mage gently replied with some sympathy. “I can’t imagine that well-off members of society would have a lot of Orcs around them. You’ll have to earn your way but Cell will be there to help you through any problems and provide magical healing if that is any consolation.”
The two brothers' faces soured, but the void where any counterpoint could have been left them nodding in defeat. A small clap from Eli brought the meeting to a close.
“All right. Get your clothes and best sailor impressions ready. Good luck.”
With that, the two brothers got up and left the room to get changed and see what tidbits of knowledge the Keltons have to offer. They eventually got themselves into loose, ill-kept white shirts and black pants that the Keltons said was the typical dress of the poor sailors, though the three silver they were each given would deliver them from the jaws of poverty for the first few days. With nothing left on their end, the two men idled on the deck of the working ship. As they practiced moving around the turrets on the right side of the ship, an item of particular interest to Andrew came on board.
Gula wore Eli’s white shirt and brown pants, though her bowl-cut of black hair only lightly grazed the white fabric. As she walked across the deck, the brothers stopped moving around the tubes in the wooden half shields. Her sharp green chin was being rubbed with her right hand as she worked on the steering wheel, fiddling with the wheels working and its levers. When she saw the fire scion looking at her with a puzzled face, she scrunched up her nose, making the horizontal scar scrunch with the skin.
“What?” She asked in a defensive tone. “I’d thought you’d be used to seeing an Orc by now.”
“I’m not looking at an Orc. I’m trying to see the woman Eli sees.” Andrew responded casually.
That caught her off guard, making her head snap back and black eyebrows scrunch together. It was a rather blunt way of stating things, but Jeff could understand Andrew’s curiosity. Salamede was the reason Eli took the course he did, but Gula had captured his heart as well, as the man had made obvious from the kisses and rubs he gave the green woman. Neither was a great beauty, between Salamede’s goatish features and Gula’s scars, average face and somewhat plain manner, the wonder of their age had settled for women decidedly below his station. Keltons, however, weren’t the eternal enemy of mankind.
And as an ever-present feature of human struggle, it was that forbidden aspect that made their curiosity about her all the stronger even with her violent nature.
She quickly recovered with a roll of her gold eyes and crossing of white-sleeved arms.
“I know no bards will sing of my enrapturing charms. Perhaps he likes me for who I am, as opposed to how I look.” She idly suggested.
Jeff huffed, drawing her gaze to him.
“Yeah, it’s your positive outlook on life that he looks at when you pass him.”
She raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he continued.
“Your marriage aside, we have other things to discuss. If we should encounter your kind, are there any kinds of greetings or etiquettes to be observed?”
“Nah,” Gula refuted, “At least in the swamps a simple hello will do. Though, I wouldn’t put too much stock in that. Orcs change with distance and time just like humans. Still, basic manners go far no matter the place.”
They both nodded at her answer, as predictable as it was. With a stretch and falling of his arms, Andrew moved to finish the conversation.
“Ok. A simple ‘how’s your day?’ followed by some praise for the great Garren to round-“
The speed at which Gula’s face contorted with rage-induced lines along her cheeks and curling nose made both brothers shirk back up against the wooden tubes. Combined with the sharp rise in her breathing and bared teeth, her visage held such a pure fury that Jeff’s animal instincts screamed of a coming attack.
“Unless you want a fist in your mouth, don’t ever foul the air with that cursed name.” The acid in her voice underlined the fury in her golden eyes.
Such raw emotion caught the brothers off-guard, something that Gula didn’t seem prepared for either. A quick look between the two made Gula relax a bit as she slacked her face. Puckering her lips, she took a deep breath followed by an unclenching of her fists to calmly continue the conversation.
“I’m sorry. I’ve never heard his name spoken of kindly,” With that, she leaned against the steering wheel and her cooler demeanor returned. “Eli told me he wasn’t taught anything beyond the bare story of how we came about. Can I assume it’s the same for you?”
Andrew nodded, but Jeff bit his lips for a moment before answering.
“I heard you weren’t always a female-only species. You had a few males amongst yourselves in the beginning but they’ve since gone the way of myth and legend.”
“Aye,” Gula agreed with a nod, but her golden eyes regained their hardness. “While that was a long, long time ago, things are the same for us as they’ve always been. However long ago it was or how many generations are birthed and die, know that our hatred for the Bastard is as strong today as it was from our first breath. Except for situations when you’re trying to upset us, don’t darken our day with his memory.”
Jeff took a moment of consideration, trying to formulate questions he had never thought to ask. When he finally found one he thought wouldn’t send her into a violent rage, he coughed into his hand, drawing her gaze on him.
“Is that why Orcs hate humans? Because he released you to smite us with no support or care.”
Her head shake surprised him, but he remained silent as she closed her eyes and worked through something in her mind. When she finished, her black eyes opened again and those golden irises looked exhausted.
“We don’t hate you. Most don’t, at least. We need you to make children but you can’t give them freely to us because if we get with a mage it’s a very quick road to the subjugation of your species and expecting you to accept such a risk would be ridiculous. Maybe we could all go live in far-flung mountains away from you, but those that took up that lifestyle aren’t of our bloodline. All this war, carnage, and death isn’t something either side is in the wrong for. In most cases, anyway. No. The one who forced us all into this mess is… him.”
The black-haired man’s mind had trouble merging her words with every story he had ever heard about Garren's most infamous creation. His time spent at various diplomatic functions left the impression that most on the central continent considered the Keltons and Entens to be shaped by his hands due to their human-like features but their point of existence hadn’t come with any instructions and they didn’t rely solely on humans to reproduce.
He had made the Orcs dependent on using humans for making children yet no one with any sense would conclude their relationship with their sires would be a good one. Jeff had always assumed he molded them to be happy at the prospect of slaughter and rape without end. If, however, he still left them the full mental capacity to understand that what they were born to do was evil…
The hair on the back of his neck started to rise before Gula interrupted his thoughts with a wave of her hand to bring them closer.
“And all of that might get better with Eli’s arrival. Now that our bit of cultural exchange is finished, it would do you two well to learn more about flying the ships.”
After an hour of fiddling with levers and working the wheel, the brothers felt familiar with its subtle graces and particularly unprepared for careers as pilots. As Jeff pulled away from the pilot seat, Cell and Eli hoisted a long slab of wood onto the deck. It looked like a broken slab of wood that was already of questionable make before meeting its ruin. As Eli set it down, he took out a long medallion. The circle of iron had a loop on the top through which a long piece of rope was threaded. In the center was an almost oval depression with a few smaller holes to allow Cell to move his black mass into the hollow metal shell.
“All right, lads.” Eli declared as he approached the steering wheel, “Salamede’s mother will be taking you to one of the settlements above Mole Hill while Gula helps look over finishing the second ship. She has some general suggestions from her time talking with the other Keltons, but this is your show. Good luck.”
With that, the brothers relaxed back into their idling with the turret positions.
The quad mage’s hands took the large circle of wood while his eyes immediately went about their usual work and absorbed Gulas retreating form getting ready to climb down the side of the ship. The fact that the now blushing Orc was looking right back at him as she stood atop the ladder did not deter him from his course as he boldly took in her female aspect with unapologetic interest. A roll of her golden eyes was all she gave him before climbing down the side of the ship.
In a few short minutes, the small, brown-furred Kelton woman came on board. While Eli took a bit to adjust the seat to her height, the typical pack of coated Frojan came on board to man the gunnery positions. While Cell began fitting into his medallion, the roof pulled back to reveal the grey sky above. Between that and the smattering of rain now falling into the hangar, the two brothers offered a silent prayer to whatever gods would deign to take their pittance of an offering for safety.
With the ship lifting upward, Andrew fitted the rope medallion around his neck. Left with nothing to do, the two brothers walked towards the pilot's seat to peak out of the holes in the shell of mist surrounding the ship. While it was a strange new land, the snow-laden plains past the rocky home of the barnacles looked the same as the endless wastes outside the Diamond academy to Jeff’s untrained vision. The bored look in Andrews's brown eyes said he was similarly disinterested. Still, they stuck with it for no other reason than to give themselves some visual references if they were ever forced to travel on foot.
Eventually, the land under the snow shifted from rock and ice to dirt and bark scars. Along the way, they saw several large rivers flowing inland with settlements here and there. Kelton or human, it was a coin toss as this height. Flying by them all, the brothers still tried to keep a mental map of the area forming but the task was quickly becoming impossible before the ship finally started circling in the ocean a few miles out from a town that was sufficiently south.
After that, it was another full day of waiting out among the seas. These Waveborn would only show their Orc women late in the day and since they had the best chance of working with them in the future, they would wait as long as needed. When the usual rounds in the grey sky were being run, they finally happened upon a single ship heading towards the smaller settlement that they saw had the required green women and was close enough to port that they wouldn’t consider killing the castaways so close to civilization. The brothers couldn’t quite get a good sight for either between the holes in the clouds of mist, but the pilot felt confident enough to start getting ahead of them.
Between the cloudy skies and lack of eyes, the time for playing sailors finally came. Andrew got on the long slab of wood with less enthusiasm than Jeff even though he took up the slightly larger portion on the shabby raft.
“Before you lot shove off,” The rough voice of their elderly Kelton pilot sounded out, “We’ll be up in the air with Cell keeping tabs on both of us. Get as much information as you can and make as many friends as you can before taking a trip south to look for any ‘survivors’ from your lost ship. Once you’ve gotten enough information in Mole Hill, head to a smaller southern settlement and slink off without being spotted whenever you’re ready to leave.”
With nothing left to say, the two brothers nodded. The sound of waves was now coming clear through the surrounding mist. Clutching his wooden handhold even harder, a sense of weightlessness made Jeff's stomach turn before he looked down and saw the wooden deck get further and further away. His attempt to see where the black mass of Cell was proved fruitless as the wood raft suddenly jerked over the rail. Air rushed around his face and hands before they began rolling with the waves and his fingers felt the cold sting of the water. It wasn’t the slap of instant frozen death back at the base, but it was close enough. A whoosh of air over his head made him look left.
Andrew was seizing the wooden plank with all his strength while the mass of black shapes that made up Cell’s body fixed itself into the medallion. He was a bit more like an oval now as opposed to a sphere, but that shimmering slit of light that shifted between all the colors of the magical elements was the same as ever.
“Ho-“ Jeff quickly closed his mouth as the raft of immaculate wreckage zipped forward. The lightning caster had been worried about coming onto the ship dry but between the waves and spray of salty seawater, his concern was quickly addressed. Tossed around like refuse, the two brothers clutched the wood beneath them like it was a lifeline with no noise heard but the splashing of water and bits of frustration in their spirit connection as they worked out any holes in their story. The world became the rise and crash of waves for several minutes before a voice was heard.
“Men overboard!”
Looking up, there was the long belly of a ship in front of them. Taking in the bits of stone from barnacles on it, the only word that could properly describe the ship was pregnant. With a wide hull of dark, algae-strewn wood, the mass of the ship was a bit wider in the middle than most vessels. Along its rail were several men getting long ropes over the sides. It was quite a show on the deck as a hail of thick hemp rained down on them. After getting splashed by a few misses, one finally landed close enough for Jeff to grab it.
Pulling on it, Andrew kept down on his side of the raft while Jeff brought them both towards the hull. While the waves weren’t the worst, they were still powerful enough to knock them off the raft if chance deemed it so. Jeff quickly pulled himself up on the rope as the ship came within reach with his hand grasping a ladder step on the right, followed quickly by Andrew as the telltale crunch of wood below them sounded off. Making their way up the side of the ship, the two brothers quickly found themselves surrounded by burly men on the dirty deck of a wide ship.
What they assumed was the stairs leading up to the captain's quarters stood on their right rising a separate floor above the lower decks with a raised portion further on their left for scouting. In front of the captain's quarters was a steering wheel with the ship's navigator looking quite unmoved at their disruption. It was more typical of the ships found on the seas and was a stark contrast to the flat floor plan they had been used to. The pully and lever system with hooks holding up a boat on the right side of the ship was also a change from their experience on Eli’s ship. Of course, the gathering of curious humans was the most immediate difference.
“What happened?” A voice shouted from the back end of the crowd. Pushing through the mass of sweaty tanned men, what had to be the captain or first mate presented himself. A mid-30s man with a clean-shaven face and long blonde hair, his blue coat and top hat had only a few stains that showed on the arms he was using to shove past his subordinates. When he got a good look at the two brothers, his green eyes looked curious as he rubbed his sharp chin.
“Unless I’m losing my mind, I can’t say I’ve seen you boys here before.”
“They’s castaways, sir. Clinging to a piece of driftwood, they was.” One of the men on the rope rigging said to the left.
“Ah, well, first mate Nate. At your service.” He said with a slight bow that had an almost mocking tone to it. “Would it be too much to ask what you lot were doing out here on your own?”
Andrew coughed as he stood a bit straighter, affecting his attempt to undo days of exhaustion.
“Our ship disappeared. We were transporting food and leather somewhere up near the ice sheets when… I can’t really say what happened, sir. Went to sleep in my hammock then the next thing I know, there was crashing and tearing wood all around me. Before I could even get my bearings, I’m clutching a piece of wood with my brother in a black sea.”
The knowing nod Nate gave said he bought the story.
“Whales, squids, sharks, large fish, too many culprits to say. All right, ladies.” He announced with a turn to the gathered men. “Show’s over. We’re almost to port and we need these metal shipments ready to go as soon as we throw anchor. Get on it!”
His shouts got the men moving again as he turned towards his newest crew members.
“From how dainty your hands are, I can see you haven’t worked the seas before.”
Andrew nodded before Jeff stepped forward.
“She was our maiden voyage, sir.”
That got a snort from him before he turned back to look over the wide deck.
“Damned way to lose your virginity. Well, you’re above the waves and that’s what's important. Get on the pallets and make them ready for transport and we’ll call saving your lives repaid. Though, once we make land I can’t guarantee that the captain will agree with keeping you on if that’s what you want.”
What followed was more exhausting labor than either brother had experienced in their lives. Sure, they worked themselves to the bone hunting and working magic. But shooting off lightning and flames was a lot more fulfilling than moving an endless stream of crates laden with iron blades. It also came with far fewer splinters as they moved out the payload from a line of sailors flowing from door that was placed on the raised scouting platform on the front of the ship.
When the wide deck was almost full of crates, the town finally came into view. The dock was along the right side of the river with a burnt area outside the tall wall that surrounded everything including a good dozen feet into the water. Three large ships near the end of the pier helped give a sense of spaciousness that was quickly dispelled. The buildings, be they houses or shops, were long, shabby things packed as tightly as could be allowed. With not a single alley or open spot outside of lanes barely large enough for two people to walk past each other, Jeff felt claustrophobic just looking at it from the deck.
Everything was done up with dull grey stone blocks and a tiled roof, with two exceptions: The bigger three-story house near the three ships docked at the right side of the pier and the houses towards the back end of town and both for very different reasons. The large house was nearly a mansion with thick wooden beams along its edges and across each floor, while those in the back of the town were more ramshackle wood slapped together than proper housing. There was also something wrong with the place, but the exact reason why he felt that way escaped him.
“I know it’s very pretty,” Nate's voice from near the captain's quarters called out to them. “But if you would get the cargo unloaded, why, that would just be wonderful for all of us,”
The biting sarcasm snapped the two out of their stupor and got in the line of men handing off boxes. As grueling as the work of getting it all into a smaller side boat was, it left Jeff a lot of time to take things in and think. After ten minutes of passing crates down a line of sailors towards a pallet on the wide boat, he looked up above the sails. On the tip of the pole running through the basket that served as the spotter's nest, there was a white sheet with crudely painted blue waves on it. It was that worn, flapping piece of cloth that made Jeff truly realize where he was. The base, with its wonders and oddities, had felt almost like a fever dream. A small corner of some forgotten world that he was merely drifting through. But the crude weather vane fluttering in the breeze, a dirty rag compared to the fine cloth he had been so used to seeing in banners and flags, popped that bubble of surrealism and suddenly brought home just how far he was from everything and everyone he had ever known.
“Lad!” One irritated sailor growled with a frown through his brown beard, his hands holding a crate waiting to be handed off.
“Sorry,” Jeff apologized as he relieved the man of his burden.
Things continued in the same manner for a while until the man who had to be the captain finally showed himself. Coming out of the doors on the upper deck cabin, he had a thick grey beard that covered some of his blue coat and white undershirt. Sharp cheekbones showed over his grey beard while smaller ears became hard to see beside it. Despite being older, his muscular frame showed years of hard labor leaving their mark. The brown eyes showing below grey eyebrows displayed a certain alacrity and intelligence as he came down the steps towards the boat held up on thick ropes tied to a pulley system. When he got closer, the hardness in those eyes became clearer.
Moving past the sailors, his black boots stepped onto the boat like it was solid land. A veteran of the seas if there ever was one. Jeff looked down the line of workers to see an impressed face on his brother, a sentiment he shared.
“I heard we had some visitors wishing to depart.” His deep voice called out. Coming up to the rail, the two brothers looked down to see him sitting on the right of six crates.
“That would be us, sir,” Jeff responded in as respectful a tone as he could manage.
A simple nod was all he offered back before waving to empty seats near the other sailors by the oars. Taking up the two seats with far less grace than the captain, the pulled system let out a long series of clacks as the boat was lowered into the sea below. As the other sailors started rowing them into port, the captain spoke up again.
“Beaton’s the name. I can see you lads are as fresh as a newborn to the seas. What made you take up this life?”
“It’s in our blood. Not much else for work in our home port back in the Coalition.” Andrew idly shrugged.
“Yet you still look for your lost companions despite being so new to this?” Beaton asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Seems only right,” Jeff responded, “Besides, we’ll need someone to vouch for our citizenship when we return home.”
The captain nodded as he turned his head right towards the coming pier. After a minute, a spirit connection from Andrew left a tingling sensation on Jeff’s right arm.
‘I’m guessing the reason they don’t pull directly into port is so that they can make a quick escape.’
‘Yeah. They should be hiding Orcs, so I guess these are the Waveborn we’ve been looking for.’ Jeff agreed.
A small huff was all Andrew said as they came up to the algae-strewn wood of the pier. Helping unload the last of the boat, the two brothers waved goodbye to their erstwhile companions. Walking down the pier, it finally occurred to Jeff what was wrong with this place.
There was no mana. For as far as the eye could see, the place was devoid of those small blue lights. He wanted to know why, but there was no way he could ask anyone who would know. Consigning himself to ignorance, he went to work with his brother.
From there they spent a good half hour talking to various merchants and dockworkers about sightings of the sailors who don’t exist. It was when they were talking with a fishmonger by the pier that they got their first taste of Rodring's peasant life. With Andrew on his left, Jeff did an elongated stretch as his formerly red-headed brother talked with the chubby man. That was when he felt the hard smack of a pole on his right leg.
“Damn!” He yelled, turning around with a scowl. What greeted him was a trio of sneering guards in red leather armor with black edges.
“Oi, you little shit. Go back to yer Orc fuckers boat,” A grizzled man with black hair spat as he looked the brothers up and down like they were an unpleasant bug stuck beneath his boot.
“What’s this loser's problem?” Andrew growled as he came beside his brother. That drew yet more eyes from the surrounding crowd.
The bullies were taken aback at the remark. Their surprise quickly faded before turning into indignation.
“You dare speak to men of the law like that?” Their leader growled.
Before Jeff could properly respond with a lightning bolt two things happened. The first was he remembered that there was no mana here, the second was the captain coming up behind the guards with three sailors.
“I’m sorry for the interruption, good sirs.” The captain offered mildly, “But we’ll have to shove off now.”
The thugs looked to be guards and while they had swords at their hips, they were outnumbered and, oddly, the surrounding onlookers comprised of their own people seemed quite eager to see them beaten. Sensing they were at a disadvantage, the guards spat on the ground before pulling away without a word.
“Well, lads. Looks like you’re stuck with us for a while longer.” Beaton said with a nod.
“Perhaps that’s all for the better,” Jeff offered with a step forward. “We can’t find any sign of our former comrades and we’re thinking of trying our luck elsewhere. I’ve heard talk of a bigger settlement called Mole Hill.”
Beaton got a small frown. It wasn’t an exaggerated thing, but the immediacy of its arrival after mentioning its name made Jeff raise an eyebrow.
“I’m not terribly fond of the place,” The captain said with a shrug.
Coughing, Jeff continued his pitch.
“Be that as it may, do you plan on visiting it?”
This time the captain showed no reaction beyond a merchant's cold calculus.
“Aye. They’re the only reliable source of grain, cloth, and tar in this whole region. Once we’re done trading our weapons stock here, we’ll be stopping by Tanners Pit for some food.”
“How much for two guests on the way there?” The lightning mage offered eagerly.
As the grizzled veteran bit his lips in consideration, the sailors behind him looked a little peeved but didn’t say anything. Jeff would bet his life they were having a very heated exchange in some spirit connections, though. After a few more seconds of silence, Beaton took in a deep breath.
“It’ll be a silver each to pay for passage, and labor to compensate for food. If you work hard enough, you may almost make up for the cost of the rooms.”
Nodding, Jeff took out two silver from his pocket. Scratching his grey beard, the captain had a moment of hesitation before he took the silver out of his passenger's hand.
“Welcome aboard. We’ll get you situated once we’re ready to shove off.”
Their transaction completed, the two brothers quickly bought a few items of clothing from the surrounding shops before heading back towards the boat. Shirts, pants, and underwear clutched beneath their arms, the two brothers waited by the pier until the last crate of the last shipment was handed off. Getting back in the boat, they helped row it back onto the ship much to the appreciation of two tired sailors. Fastening the hooks on two iron loops around the ends boat, they were gradually lifted into the air before coming back onto the deck.
“Nate!” Beaton shouted as he came stepped back into his little kingdom on the seas. “Show our guests to their quarters. They’ll be working for their food.”
The blonde man in question stepped forward from his place on the scouting deck to the right.
“Aye, captain.” He said before nodding to the brothers. Following him towards the captain's quarters, they took a left off the wide doors and came up to another pair behind Beaton’s residence. Waving his hands for them to go in, the two brothers found themselves in a tidy little room with a bed.
“I’ll leave you lot to decide who gets which, but they’re both the same. Now, once you get settled in this is the routine. A morning of work pays for the meals. In the afternoon, we’ll be seeing to some sensitive work with the mast and riggings and we can’t afford to be watching for passengers underfoot. You’ll have to stay in the rooms and call for a sailor to escort you if you want to relieve yourself.” Nate said with an idle thumb pointing towards the left.
“Thank you,” Andrew responded with a strained smile.
Looking up at the grey sky, Jeff felt it should be mid-day.
“How much work do we have to do today to get a lunch and dinner?”
“Nah. Despite the staring contest you had with the town, you two still pulled your weight this morning. Lunch on docking days is a bit later but we’ll come get you when the time comes.”
With that, he turned around and left the two to figure out their arrangements.
‘Sensitive work.’ Andrew mocked in a spirit connection. ‘We certainly bumped into the right ship. Still, it seems like a pointless exercise. Especially considering how the Orcs would rampage if they knew a male mage was near.’
‘Even obvious secrets need some form of deniability, for both them and us. Besides, they have no reason to suspect our abilities and even if they did, Gula and her mother were able to keep themselves off us. So whatever Garren stuck in them to mate mages is controllable.’ Jeff countered with a raised eyebrow.
‘With Eli around,’ Andrew corrected with a raised finger. ‘There was no way they’d bother with us when the mighty scion of our age is in arms reach. A problem he’ll no doubt have to deal with eventually. But if we get outed, I don’t think they’ll be too gentle about it.’
Another spirit connection started across Jeff’s belly. His mind quickly filled with a … sense of protection. Familiar communication was an odd thing with odd emotions being forced into the mind instead of words to be interpreted. So primal yet all the more intriguing for it.
‘See?’ Jeff countered, ‘We have Cell. Worst come to worst, we’ll burn the ship down and scoot back to the one watching over us.’
It was a bit crueler sounding than he intended, but that seemed to pacify his brother.
‘Fine. But if it comes to that, you’re the one telling Gula what happened.’
Their conversation finished, Andrew turned around and went towards the other room. Cell jumped out of the medallion and shot over the railing before using a wind and mist spell to mask his ascent into the sky. Left by himself, Jeff turned back towards his room. The bare thing had a single bed of rough brown hemp in the back with a chest beneath for his belongings. Walking over the crude, brown wood, he set his clothes down and started putting them into the chest.
Through the window facing out to the sea, the grey sky went on for as far as his vision would go. Content to wait, a lunch of bread and a gruel with bits of… meat was served. With the flesh of some animal salted to the point of tastelessness and hard grains softened enough to be positively edible, the chef produced a decent meal with the narrow pickings available to sea goers. With the passing of the day, Jeff slept in the tight quarters. It wasn’t the next day, but the day after, that a break in routine happened.
As Jeff was about to go into his door for the afternoon before dinner, Nate came up with a greeting.
“Evening lads. The Captain was wondering if you lot would like a meal with him. He’s interested to hear about happenings in the Coalition.” His hand waved towards the front of the deck towards the door to the captain's quarters as the sunny sky above played sunlight across his blonde locks.
Jeff turned to a tired Andrew, who nodded.
Following the first mate, the two boys went through the double doors into a rather wide room. In the center was a rough map of the central continent on a table and a bed with red blankets in the back. Above the bed and near the door’s left were plain windows letting in the fading light with some dirt and dust on its warped panes. It was the table, however, that was being cleaned by the captain.
“I know it’s rather sudden.” He said with a slight nod of respect as he rolled up the map, “I was wondering about the various goings-on with the Coalition and figured a meal would be worth your time. Though you will have to retire to your rooms immediately after.”
Two chairs that looked a bit more rugged than the one by the captain were resting close to them near the table and with a quick walk the two brothers promptly sat themselves down. Two days under the sun had left some sunburns that the waning sun shining through the windows highlighted. Cell meant they were never in danger, but he couldn’t magically do all of the rope tying, rowing, and deck washing for them. Jeff had suffered through it well enough even as Andrew’s mood fouled by the hour.
The fire scion did a good job of hiding his increasingly bitter mood, but a brother was not so easily fooled.
Beaton sipped on a bottle of ale before a slightly pudgy man in a white apron and a bald spot surrounded with short black hair came in. He carried a tray with three steaming bowls of creamy fish soup and bread, all to be washed down with a lukewarm beer. His face was clean-shaven while his brown eyes immediately went to the open table.
“Only the best food from the Pickets best chef for our esteemed guests tonight.” He pronounced as he put down the tray and put down the bowls in front of the men.
“Well, considering you’re the only chef here I don’t think the competition was fierce” Beaton teased, with a wise tug on his greying beard.
“Bah!” The chef scoffed as he waved a pudgy hand while his bulbous nose turned up, “The best on the Picket and the best for many miles around if that’s not enough.”
A slight smile played across Jeff’s lips as he received his mug.
“I don’t suppose you’d know any Coalition recipes? Our chef stuck to a spicy fish stew, but they didn’t have the peppers or onions we typically have.”
The chef thumbed his nose as he put his tray between his right arm.
“A few, though the royal kitchens provided the ingredients that made those thick stews and grilled shrimps shine.”
“Hmm.” Jeff offered as he sipped the beer, light yet still holding a good flavor of its sugar base… or was it honey? His inquiry into his tastebuds was quickly interrupted by the chef.
“I know what you’re thinking. ‘He worked in a royal kitchen? Does the crap flying out of his mouth land in the food?’. As good a question as any.”
Andrew did a light head bob before answering.
“We would never voice such thoughts.”
The captain had a light laugh at that, while the chef nodded.
“Aye. You two have manners far surpassing the typical louts here. Sign of a good mother and all that.”
Beaton also nodded.
‘Yeah,’ Jeff thought to himself, ‘I wouldn’t call the three tutors we had motherly.’
“Still,” The chef continued, “You’d think after bad-mouthing the lord of the castle and winding up here, I’d have enough sense to pull out my tongue.”
“It’s quite all right,” Beaton announced with a firm wave of his hand and his voice had a more forceful tone in it this time. Taking the hint, the chef gave a light bow before walking out of the room.
“Speaking of the powerful,” Beaton continued as he took a sip of the white soup. “Do you two have any word of what madness took over your home?”
Of course, they both instantly knew what he was talking about.
“I heard there was a big battle in the sea,” Andrew offered mildly. Jeff, however, saw through the calm as Andrew gripped his spoon with all his might.
“Large enough to screw everything up south,” Beaton agreed with a tired sigh. “I’ve lived up in these lands these past twenty-five… or was it thirty? However many years it was since I put up my soldier's attire from the southern coasts. And I’ve never heard the tales from the south like this. Warehouses at various villages at times bursting with backed-up stock and others barer than the snowy wastes up north.
No idea when Rodring will get whatever’s left of its fleet in order, but until then the Pirates out of the misty Islands will have a reign over the seas not seen in my lifetime.”
Taking a sip of his soup, Jeff took a moment before asking a question.
“What’s the south like?”
Beaton got a slight smile as he put his elbows on the wooden table.
“Hot. Muggy. The lands down there have plants that spew poison deadly enough to kill just from being around them. Entens, the name for snake people, frogmen, and half-beast people far fouler than the Keltons all run through the land and seas. Not hostile, mind you. But neither are the fairy folk yet they still manage to be a pain in the ass. Gotta small colony of them around here close to the northern wastes.”
The captain leaned back into his chair before taking his mug in his hands.
“But enough about the faraway lands south of here. I want to hear about the place from where you set out on your ill-fated voyage and the recent sorrows that have befallen it.”
Andrew coughed as he proceeded to lay out the fake life he and his brother lived.
“The town was the same as ever. Ships coming in and going out as they pleased. We played along the streets and banks of the rivers as all the other kids did. Mother was always quite strict in maintaining manners at the table. You’d think she was a member of the government or a local noble with how quickly dad fell in line around her. To your question, the truth is… we don’t know.
We were getting ready to make for the southern coast on our maiden voyage when we started hearing rumors of a powerful mage. Then the trip south turned into a cold slog north for some meager profits. The why or who’s of it all were beyond the likes of us.”
Beaton nodded with a long drink of his ale. Jeff took the moment to make sure Andrew wasn’t going to act out. Whatever he was feeling, the shimmering light in Cell reflected none of the scion's emotions. The two ate in silence as Beaton was content with no more questions. The three completed their meal and bid each other good night. As the two brothers went around back with the orange sky above, Jeff stopped his now brown-haired brother to his left before he went into his room.
‘What’s your problem? If you got any angrier you may very well have blown our entire cover.’ Jeff asked with his hand on the door to his room.
‘Eli,’ Andrew growled bitterly as he turned around. ‘So far away and a good month dead and everything is still about Eli.’
‘Andrew,’ Jeff turned left and walked forward. The unfamiliar brown eyes, despite their change, had an all too familiar stubbornness that a color shift could never hide. His brother was a good person, but when something struck him wrong it was always his task to talk him down.
‘Like it or not, Eli’s fame will only grow. Do you think fewer people will be discussing him or nations less interested when he’s… putting up mountains of steel or making ships among the stars or whatever else he was talking about? I lived in your shadow as a mere caster or crafter until my mana pathways developed enough to show I was a dual element.
It was not fun, suffice it to say. Seeing the love and praise the servants foisted on you then seeing that pride in their master's son drop a level when they looked at me.
But I got through it because…’ There was a moment where he thought about trying to speak the name, but the pain in his chest held his mental tongue. Taking a deep breath, he soldiered on. “And you will have to get over this thing with Eli just as I did. Because like it or not, he is the big dog of the pack. Spirits help us all, but that is the simple plain truth.’
Andrew sighed as his aggrievement quickly gave way to appeasement. The scion nodded and put up his hands in surrender.
‘You’re right. I know… I just… Damn. I think I need to get with a good wench and that’ll set me right.’
Jeff smirked as he turned back to his door.
‘Throw a fireball out and I’m sure you’ll have all the release you need.’
With that, the two turned in for the night. Though, Jeff looked like he had struggled to sleep come morning. The typical morning of a quick breakfast and hard labor passed before the ship took off during a bright sunny mid-day. It was on this day, however, that Tanner’s Pit should be coming into view. Coasting along miles of endless bark and bushes, it was after an hour of sailing that the first plume of smoke came into view over the horizon.
The place was going to be their only source of food for days and couldn’t pass up coming into port over what could very well be a single fire. The logic, as sound as it was, did nothing to quell the trepidation of the crew or the ball of worry in Jeff’s stomach as he watched along the scouting deck at the front of the ship. While the crew was pulling up some of the sails to slow the ship, any hope of getting resupplied was quickly dashed when they came around a bend in the coastline and the logs of a pier presented themselves beside the stone walkway. Looking further along, Jeff realized they had come to a graveyard for the freshly damned.
The wall that was omnipresent in settlements on this continent had been crushed and the surrounding buildings had either burned or reduced to kindling which would quickly join their neighbors. Bodies were seen along the pier but most could be seen getting torn into by big wolves that were almost the size of horses. So far away from the shore, the magical flames that played along tails and snouts wouldn’t have much of an effect considering that the total lack of mana around the place meant they couldn’t use much if any magic. Something that did little to comfort the magicless crew who wouldn’t know anything of such matters.
Before the cascade of curses could ring out, Nate called out from in front of the captain's quarters.
“Shut up! Let me get a good look at the place before we all start panicking.”
The blonde-haired man came up to the scouting deck, his blue jacket flapping with his run across the deck. Putting up a hand to block the sun, he took in the wreckage as Jeff waited nervously on the right. Nate pulled back, perplexed at what he was seeing.
“I don’t suppose I should ask,” Jeff whispered cautiously.
Instead of screaming or yelling, the first mate bit his lip before seemingly talking to himself.
“The mana-sucking leathers been torn up. Judging by the ship's wreckage strewn around the pier, they didn’t make it to the escape boat in time. But they should have-“
A rumbling off in the distance provided the answer he sought. Between two large mounds that used to be ramshackle houses, a small mountain of leathery skin moved. It wasn’t until it flowed around the ruin that Jeff beheld something he was sure could only be found in the nightmares of small children.
What could be assumed to be the head was a smooth dome of wriggling grey flesh with skin that was wrapped around the fleshy grey pole. The mind struggled to get a good feeling for the dimensions of the thing as large sacks of leather strung along the wriggling flesh that made up the center of its body made it hard to see where the body within started or stopped. The small forest of protruding limbs waved back and forth like a centipede, each of which had more of the leathery, brown skin affixed between it and its neighbor. It gave the nightmare an almost graceful flow as it moved like an intricate dance of meaty leaves around the ruins of some now surely dead peasant’s home. The sacks swung around the fleshy center with the suggestion of liquid, adding to the orchestra of motion that defined the beast.
“Skinner.” Nate gasped breathlessly. He turned to his right towards the pilot, giving only a nod before the rest of the crew sprung into action. Moving to fully unfurl the sails and get down below to row, they moved like death itself had come knocking. When the pulsating mass of grey flesh moved towards them like a predator sniffing out a wounded animal, the ship took to the wind in earnest.
As Jeff began weighing his options, both mundane and magical, a doomed savior arrived.
“UAGHHH!”
Before the leather-clad monster could decide if it wanted to make a meal of them, the scream of an unfortunate child rang out somewhere amongst the wreckage to the right.
Deciding to go for the easier meal, it quickly turned and moved off towards the source of the noise with sharp cracks accompanying each sharp foot as it punctured the wooden mess beneath it. Jeff had a moment where he struggled not to sigh in relief, but he quickly focused his mind on what just happened to the town that was quickly leaving their vision.
“Nate!” He called towards the first mate who was making his way down the steps of the scouting deck.
The man turned around, looking happy to just be alive. His eyes were bereft of their typical arrogance and as Andrew came up beside Jeff, he seemed positively friendly.
“What was that?!” Andrew demanded, the newly brown eyebrows furrowed as his tongue ran over his lips.
“First time seeing a Skinner? Well, you lads have been losing all kinds of virginities these past few days.” He said jokingly, a light manner that was slightly undone by the sweat around his brow.
They both looked at him in silence for a long moment before he finally spoke.
“One of nature's gifts. During this time of year, it collects bodies and allows the ambient healing mana to provide it with a limitless supply of meat. Probably some type of bug, but I’ve never bothered getting close enough to one to find out.”
Jeff took a moment to process that while Andrew pressed him for more details.
“Ok… But I’m assuming… how did it take out an entire town?”
It was now Nate's turn to look at the fire scion with a question.
“What do you mean how?” He asked with a confused tone.
“How did it sneak into the town to do so much damage?”
A look of comprehension stole across the man’s face, his sharp chin getting a light rub as his green eyes took in both of the brothers.
“Lad, it doesn’t need to sneak. If it decides to come upon a settlement, we can’t stop it. At least without any mages, we can’t.”
They both looked at him with deadpan faces for a moment.
“What do you mean?” Jeff asked, trying to comprehend what he was saying. Andrew, however, spelled out the impossible thoughts.
“So, if we stay at one of the settlements… What? We just hope the local animals aren’t too hungry.”
The light nod and shrug Nate gave was more devastating than any troll’s rage or sword to the gut.
“It’s not quite that simple. We have all kinds of contingencies in place. I’m sure you lot were too busy looking at all the bodies to notice the leather bits sticking out of the ground. Those suck out all of the mana, making the place undesirable for the beasts. Between the lack of mana and a big wall, that’s typically enough to make us an unworthy meal.
If that fails… well a reserve of boats is kept on hand for people to escape with. Now, I’ve got to go get the orders from the captain. We’ll have to head straight to Mole Hill, but now he’ll have less time to get ready for it.”
His explanation finished, he headed past the sailors tugging on ropes or heading below deck to start rowing. Jeff and Andrew stood stone still, ignoring everything around them as they processed the fact that out here in the wonderful, rich central continent, the place where the dreams and aspirations of humanity's best mages were born and the highest members of society could always be heard gushing over, the peasantry got by on hoping they were too inconvenient of a meal for the local predators.
‘Jeff,’ Andrew calmly stated in a spirit connection that also had some of that raw fear from Cell coming through. ‘If my ass is on land and one of those things comes to slowly eat my undead corpse in one of its leather sacks, I am blasting it. I don’t care about the consequences, secrecy, or what the poorly hidden Orcs will think.’
There was no objection from Jeff or Cell. Though, a nagging question prodded Jeff to speak through their connection.
‘Cell, did you see any healing mana?’
The familiar quickly sent an impression of rejection, prompting Andrew to raise an eyebrow before he turned and leaned against the railing.
‘Too many bodies. I doubt even the plumes of mana here could inject life into that many bodies that quickly, so yeah, there isn’t going to be any healing mana.’
Jeff came up to Andrews's right, looking at the plumes of smoke rising in the otherwise clear sky behind them.
‘Of course. But all the bodies were on the docks. What about outside the walls? Or on the river banks? Did you see any there Cell?’
Again, the impression of rejection came through. Feeling more confident in his musings, Jeff pressed onward.
‘Ah, so where did that mana go? There weren’t any bodies around those areas and necrosis has been going on long enough to get any fossils hidden there moving. Magical beasts also can’t take in mana that isn’t of their affinity and those fire wolves certainly wouldn’t have used it.’
Andrews took a moment to consider the implications of that. When he worked through it, he bit his lower lip as he turned around and looked over the rail.
‘Mages.’
‘Indeed. You want to ask our skyward overseers to look for them?’
‘No. We’re not sending our only sure way out of here on a scouting trip. Cell should go up to keep tabs on any attacking parties in the afternoon and nights, though. He can come down quickly enough if he needs to.’
With nothing left to say, the brothers went about their day's work. As the afternoon sun started falling, Nate stopped them with a tip of his blue hat as they came near the captain's door to get to their rooms.
“I just finished talking with our kitchen staff and captain a few minutes ago. Half rations until we get to Mole Hill. Though, you can try to snag some fish if you get up early enough.”
Tight smiles was the most polite response they could manage before turning in for the afternoon.
The pain of those two sentences came into full effect over the next few days. Hard days were one thing, doing them on what felt like an ever emptier stomach quickly became unbearable. After one morning of working on the decks and coming back to their rooms with nothing more than a meager bowl of porridge accompanied by a single bite of bread in their bellies, Andrew finally came into Jeff’s room.
‘I going to have Cell catch us a few fish.’ His brooding brown eyes left no room for disagreement as the bright sun behind him shined through the doorway. Not that Jeff would have. Of all the challenges thrown at them throughout their lifetimes, hunger was never one of them and both men felt utterly unprepared to face this foe. They quickly moved to the left side of the ship where there was a collection of long poles with tough string that served as fishing rods. The sailor in charge of keeping track of the poles and the bait raised an eyebrow at them trying so late in the day, but his misgivings were not enough to prevent them from trying.
Resting along the backside of the ship near the doors to their rooms, the brothers sat on stools as the black mass of Cell quickly found one unfortunate fish after another to place on their hooks.
“Damn!” One sailor exclaimed, his roughly shaven jaw breaking out into a grin as he saw the full bucket of fish between the brothers. That drew a few more men up, all looking at the bounty. Hunger was clear on their faces and the brothers were not such great fools that they even considered keeping it to themselves.
“Go tell the chef to get ready for some fish stew,” Andrew proclaimed, to a cheer from the grateful men.
“In fact,” Jeff said as he picked up one of the clubs used to kill the fish as he went up to the rail. “Tell him to prepare for fish steak.”
“Someone, get some ro-“Andrews's voice became a distant noise as Jeff leaped over the side, all the while telling Cell to get the biggest fish he could find. As the waves rose to meet him, Jeff felt the cold sea wash away the grime of several days' labor. Swimming below the surface, it was a few seconds before a huge tuna nearly half his size swam up to him. No, the shimmering light being distorted by the waves showed a gash in its head, an injury it no doubt received from the small black mass along its side.
Gripping the rope that was now dangling to his right, Jeff wrapped it around his arm and torso as he began being pulled back towards the ship. The crashing of waves filled his ears for a second before he realized he was above water.
“There he is! Crazy bastard.” A rough voice shouted above. Using his legs to push against the side of the ship, he struggled with his heavy payload before Cell used a few wind spells to propel him upward. Coming over the railing and spitting seawater off his face, Jeff flopped down his prize like a hammer onto the deck. Andrew quickly came up to him to look him over and let Cell get back in the medallion.
“Look at the size of that beast!” The sailor from earlier gasped.
A whooping and raising of fists in cheer rang out before Beaton pushed through the crowd with both hands in his blue coat pockets. His brown eyes looked at the sopping wet sailor in front of him and tried to look rather disapproving. But, he failed in that attempt.
“You just violated all kinds of sea rules, lad. As captain, I should…” He tugged his grey beard with his right hand before shrugging in his blue coat. “Oh, let Balluds wisdom take me. Time to eat!”
To the cheers of a grateful crew and steaming bowls of fish stew, the afternoon quickly passed with the first decent meal in days. Being the heroes of the hour, the two brothers were allowed to retire early. As the lightning caster laid down in his rough bed, the sky outside his open door quickly went from orange to black. Content to put the day to rest, he closed his door and made his way to the bed of rough hemp cloth as he fell into slumber.
“Pfff! Nuffing.” A small voice to his right exclaimed to the sound of rummaging. Getting off his back, he rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his white shirt.
When Jeff started using his sight, the pitch-black darkness was all that greeted him at first. It took a moment for the starlight shining out of his door on the left to find its purchase in his eyes. When it did, what it revealed was the bane of all humanity on her knees and looking under his bed. She was a squat thing, not more than five years old with two pigtails of brown hair and a sack over her body that served as a crude dress. It was hard to make out her features, but when her face turned up to look at him with now wide golden eyes and the general dark green of her skin in the night light made it impossible to mistake her species.
“EEK!” The small girl squealed as she dashed through the door. Jeff quickly got up and began mentally preparing some story about how he always got with Orc women on the side to mollify the crew. Which was when the little girl slipped on the deck as she made her left turn.
The next few seconds were a blur. Within a moment, Jeff saw she was going to slip in between the rails and when she went overboard there would be no finding her among the black waves. Nearly a dozen decisions were made in a split second as he leaped off the bed and quickly followed her over the rail. For the second time that day, a cry above rang out as the waves ran up to meet him.
Fortunately, he was close enough to hear her spluttering and splashing. There were more calls above followed by thrown rope. Making his way through the soft waves, it was a brief flash of gold that set him on his course. Floundering in the water with what could only be described as passable swimming, it was a few more precious seconds of groping the water that he got ahold of something solid. Finally getting his hand on something that felt like a shoulder, he hoisted the girl close to him. Having retrieved his prize in the black night as torchlights started shining above, it occurred to the lightning caster that the little girl was using his body for leverage and pushing his head beneath the waves.
Instead of fighting her, he grabbed one of the ropes and started pulling them both to safety away from the salty sea. When his body hit the side of the ship, he used his feet to move over onto the ladder on the left. Against his shoulder, the little girl was still shivering. Whether from chills or fear, Jeff didn’t have the mental space to decide. Climbing his way up the ladder with limbs that felt like they were on fire, he finally made it over the rail.
Laying on the ground, the two were exhausted and lay in a panting heap. Jeff vaguely saw torchlight off to his left, but the task of getting air into his veins was more important than anything else at this moment.
“Oh yeah, what a scandal.” A distinctly feminine voice was heard to the left.
Turning his head, he saw the little girl was being smothered by a mid-30s Orc in a brown dress and shoulder-length hair of the same color as her daughters. More importantly, to their right was Beaton holding a lantern and looking at Jeff with a blank expression. His white shirt was disheveled from just getting out of bed and while his left hand held up the metal box, his right was around a knife handle holstered on his belt. Looking around, it was a blank face shared by the rest of the male crew as well, though the green women sprinkled about were considerably calmer.
“Well,” The captain sighed, “This was a good day.”
“Come off it!” The mother turned with lips pursed in spite and sharp cheekbones holding some previously shed tears from her gold and black eyes “Look! Everyone!” She put out her right hand to the black skies above as she yelled over the dead waters. “Waveborn lay with Orcs! Gather the fleet and prepare the armies. What will the world do now that such a secret has been unleashed?”
The women all smirked at that while a sheepish look stole over most of the men’s faces.
“It’s not over yet.” Nate moaned somewhere behind him. “Let’s get them warm before they freeze to death.”
Jeff still felt a little weak from his ordeal, but a hand behind him pulled him up. The voice accompanying it was all too familiar.
“Yeah, no sense in letting you die after you’ve been saved,” Andrew said, calm and collected even as he stayed behind as Jeff walked forward. A quick look back showed Andrew wasn’t wearing his medallion and had no reason to considering Cell was on the ship above. Not that he would be needed, as no hostility could be felt from the crowd.
Moving towards the door by the scouting deck, he finally went to the lower holds. Recovering enough to walk on his own, Jeff took in the kitchen in the back and array of tables with lit candles at just enough points to give the surrounding walls a flickering light. On his immediate right was a large hatch with another pulley and lever system to bring cargo from the floor below. What was more immediate in its importance to him was the small pile of blankets and a change of clothes on the closest table.
Quickly stripping and changing into a grey shirt with dull blue pants, he moved to take a seat and wrap a layer of rough cloth around himself. After a few seconds, the mother and her child came down and immediately sat opposite of him. Both victims of the night's circumstance sat in silence as they tried to fight the cold still clinging to their limbs. When they were both finished getting properly dressed for the occasion, the small child was wrapped like a newborn with green ears and puffy cheeks sticking out between the blankets.
“Mah! I’m fine,” The little thief moaned as her mother worked bits of hair away from her face.
“I love you, dear,” The tired Orc said sweetly before she took her child's small chin “But you disobeyed a lot of rules and made me very upset. Now I can choose to be very relieved at you being safe or I can be furious at your recklessness and you fussing like this is pushing me in one distinct direction.
Honestly, girl. What were you thinking?”
“Fish,” The pup squeaked.
The two adults raised an eyebrow at her. A small sniff accompanied her moaning as Andrew came down and sat on Jeff’s left.
“There’s so little to eat and I heard that the people we brought got some fish. Someone said they might have stashed a few for themselves, and… I’m just so hungry.”
The mother gave a sympathetic tut as she took her child's face in her hands.
“I know. But we’re so close to the port. Just bear with it for a little while longer, love. You’re lucky to be alive. If it wasn’t for this young man, it’d be you in the fish's belly not the other way around.”
The girl's chin quivered before she pressed against her mother's chest like a huge, pouting sausage.
“I’m sorry,” She moaned.
It was quite a heartwarming scene but it was quickly interrupted by Beaton as he came down the steps.
“All right, it’s been an adventure for all of us. But the morning will not be kind to tired bodies.” His voice was sympathetic as the rest of the crew started filing downstairs. The two brothers nodded in agreement as they got up from the table as the mother did one last tearful wave goodbye. Moving up the stairs, Jeff got some appreciative nods from the men and green women. Now out on the deck, the only other souls about were the few late-night watchmen and the navigator, all of whom nodded towards their guests as they made their way over the wood floor to their rooms. When Jeff put his hand to his door, he looked left to see what his brother's true reaction would be.
Without so much as a backways glance, Andrew shut the door. A second later, the sound of him flopping on the bed came through the thin wooden walls. Smiling to himself, Jeff went inside his room. The night, contrary to all expectations, was better than previous ones. Waking up to a good mood thought long lost, Jeff quickly got up with a change of clothes and headed out of his door. Turning left, he meant to get what counted as a bath here with warm rags.
Beaton, however, was waiting for him. His grey beard flapped with his blue coat and white shirt in the soft morning wind. Those piercing brown eyes measured him, though as prey or friend, Jeff couldn't tell.
“Well,” The captain finally said in his typical rough, even tone, “I suppose I don’t need to ask how you processed last night.”
Jeff could only nod. He knew he should feel awful, saving an Orc and nearly dying in the attempt, but despite the entirety of his upbringing, he felt good from the praise and gratefulness of the mother and child.
“I suppose you can let them come above deck in the mornings now.” Jeff offered with a shrug.
Beaton, for the first time, smiled.
“You think that was for your benefit? No, we always do that no matter the guests. Outsiders who come to us are desperate or have an established relationship with us. ” He turned his weathered face out towards the open ocean with its crashing waves and salty breeze. “The mornings are too bright and anyone spotting us would easily make out their green skin. Out there among the waves and blasted monstrosities, there’s space. More space than you could ever imagine.
But there are only so many places to wait out the early morning feasting. Once night rolls around, they all stay below deck until we can get out on the seas proper.”
“Is there a bounty for your kind? Something that would make the other ships sink you if they knew.”
A scratch of his beard was Beaton’s first answer before he turned back towards Jeff.
“There’s no bounty out on us, but that’s still no guarantee. Some people couldn’t care less, some have such a hatred of Orcs that they would attack us on sight if they knew. Others have a green-skinned lass back home even if they aren’t Waveborn. And all of those possibilities can be safely ignored if we manage to pass off as a regular trading ship and act like we weren’t designed to dock in small piers.”
Jeff raised an eyebrow as he looked at him with disbelief.
“I don’t remember our first time in port being a stealthy affair. The guards got on us right quick.”
The grizzled veteran smirked as he nodded ruefully.
“Once you make port in the same place so often, people begin to notice how you never pull into port and how worn your ship looks. When things are rough and the proper authorities can’t keep order or respectable merchants won’t risk the voyage, we move in to fill in the gaps. In that way, you could say we’re more like a disease than anything else, and some think of us as a bad omen. Still, we made the difference enough times that most guards will look the other way if it means our goods still come in. That scuffle was more due to the change in the local situation than our lack of care.”
A raised eyebrow from Jeff prompted Beaton to continue.
“Some rebellion. Maybe the taxes weren’t getting sorted, maybe some dragon hides went missing. All I know is, the landlocked got spanked and I guess some of the guards that typically stay further out west aren’t happy getting stuck out here so close to Ballud’s Folly.”
His explanation finished, Beaton went back to looking out over the seas in silence. Standing still with an awkward bundle in hand, Jeff made no sound until the captain finally spoke again.
“And the decisions about how to navigate all of these events are informed by decades of life on these waters. That time also informs me about other things.”
The burly man turned around, his shoulders relaxed and lips pursed in thought.
“I know how long it takes for someone to trip off a ship and the kid said you were still in the bed when she ran out of the door. Saving that girl required you not even think about throwing yourself overboard before she fell in the water. I’d think you a partaker of the forbidden pleasure, but there seems to be some reluctance when you look at them nor did you try to press the new gratitude among the women for a night's play.”
The question was plain enough, but the maelstrom in Jeff’s gut was anything but straightforward. After seconds of mental wrangling, the lightning caster put forth his most honest feeling.
“I’d say it’s more my lack of loyalty towards my kind right now than it is the appeal of the Orcs.”
Beaton gave him the last look he expected, understanding. Taken slightly aback, Jeff stood there clothes in hand for an awkward moment before the captain moved forward and put a hand on his shoulder.
“You’ve got a hole in you. Fill it with something, work, love, or charity if you can. Booze won’t help, though. Whatever happened, just keep pushing on. Day by day if you have to.”
Without another word, the captain turned to the left to go about his duties. Jeff took a moment to try and process such an obvious statement but that giant chasm in his soul wasn’t quite ready to be confronted. His mood slightly darkened, the rest of the day passed all the same. He was allowed to eat amongst the rest of the crew below deck now, as was his brother. In a past life, sitting at a table only for a bunch of Orcs to come around would send the two brothers into a frenzy of slinging fireballs everywhere. Their time with Gula and her mother, however, had calmed their inner panic to mere discomfort.
Days went by in both rain and sun, misery and joy before they finally came into the mouth of the river leading towards their destination. Unlike the previous two settlements, the place was a bit further inland. Coming up the channel, the sides of the riverbanks were far enough away to allow the passage of multiple ships. Which was good because the pilot was clearly struggling to maneuver the ship through the water as he avoided sand bars and worked the winds. After some nautical anguish, they finally arrived in port. The docks were long with the left side being taken up by what the brothers now knew to be escape ships while a few actual merchant ships were sprinkled about.
The lightning caster looked down to get ready to board the small boat with his brother before he noticed the ship turning into the pier. Realizing that they were going to properly disembark, Jeff got an idea of why Beaton disliked this place. The river meant they couldn’t use their usual boat to transport goods. Coming up to the docks, sailors quickly took out the gangplank to allow safe passage on land as the shining sun bored down on the merchants and passersby moving beyond their little world.
When they were getting ready to cross the plank, Beaton came up from the brother’s right with a hand raised for a shake.
“You did well, lads.”
Taking their compliment in stride, they walked off the plank only to run into a party coming on board, and in them, Jeff felt he found another reason Beaton held this place in such disdain. A few guards with the red leather armor edged in black hung around a central man who looked like a man of importance. A tan sleeveless vest and white undershirt around muscular arms showed off considerable craftsmanship, which served to accentuate its wearer's vanity. The man in question was an older gentleman, but the years had clearly been kind to him. His well-kept black pants moved with the clacks of the leather shoes done up with iron bottoms.
His head of grey hair barely moved as a smug grin stole over his handsome face complete with a strong chin and sturdy cheekbones. The finery of his display was somewhat undone by the thuggish nature of his steps and cruel joy in his blue eyes.
“Beaton. Old friend.” He exclaimed as he walked across the deck. The blank face and rigid shoulders that Beaton immediately assumed made it obvious that the joke was anything but lighthearted.
“Dex.” Beaton greeted back with a strained smile.
The captain kept his cool until his evident rival stepped on the plank. As simple an action as that was, it set off the crew of the Picket like a hornet's nest as swords were drawn or quickly retrieved. Amidst the downpour of shouting and cursing, Dex meekly put up his hands in surrender with a mocking smile that was reflected in his companion's faces.
“We have a situation. My fellow, ever loyal, citizens of our great kingdom, it has been discovered that items of a magical nature have been lost from the reclaimed hold of the traitorous lord Kenden who previously called these lands his and his alone. Three dragon hides, two Skinner shafts, five blue barrels containing preserved fire wolf sides, and no less than six sacks of fire-red potatoes. All will be accounted for. In the meantime, you will be provided coin for food and necessities until a task force from the local guard can be dispatched to thoroughly investigate the situation. We estimate they are ten days out, all ships will be looked over on their arrival and then we can all get on with our lives.
If you have any information on the location of these items, you will be rewarded with a hundred gold pieces. Any further questions can be directed towards the harbor office.” His blue eyes looked at the surrounding crowd unimpressed. When he looked at Beaton, he contented himself with a smirk before leaving the ship. The captain gripped the knife at his side before turning towards his men.
“What are you waiting around for? The pantry’s been empty these past few days unless all that moaning my ears endured was just you lot pretending to be starving. Get moving and if I don’t see vegetables and meat moving across the decks when I get back from informing the harbors office, it’ll be a while longer before anyone eats.”
As the sailors got back to work, Beaton gave a quick nod to the brothers before they moved away from the ship.
Mole Hill was the center point for all the transport and military moves up north to the icy lands and it had the capacity to fulfill that function. Along the right side of the docks was row after row of warehouses hugging the wall of stone nearly four stories high while near the back of the residencies was a larger house among the assorted ramshackle dens that made up much of the city, though larger stone blocks used in some of the better houses helped make better use of the space with multi-story buildings along the shoreline. Around these houses and the docks were stone brick roads while the peasantry was left with their typical mud and dirt roads that fit wherever the meager room to walk was present. Moving throughout a place stuck between a town and city, they got a good mental map of the area while Cell was let loose to look around.
As the late-day sun basted the town in a fading orange glow, Jeff and Andrew finished their excursion in the largest bar they could find. Sitting in the back corner of a smoky room, plates of grilled chicken legs never tasted so sumptuous as the lightning mage dug in with his brother feasting opposite of him at their table. Candlelight flickered over the weak beer in their mugs, just as it did the other denizens of the tavern. Even the occasional snacking they did on their tour of this place did little to blunt the hunger that had defined their existence these past few days.
Fortunately, the rowdy, drunken mayhem that accompanied all dens of pent-up sailors covered for any lack of manners they were displaying. As Jeff brought up what had to be the juiciest chicken thigh in existence, he suddenly felt a spirit connection from the open window to his right. It had the typical impression of images and feelings that accompanied familiar communication and content to welcome Cell back in a few seconds, Jeff stuck his teeth into the juicy skin of his meal when the first image came through.
Dragon hides, smoking potatoes, and six blue barrels. Treasures beyond compare back home. All laying in a musty wooden corner atop bricks.
‘Damn, which ship has them?’ Andrew asked as he put out his hand through the window to imitate a long stretch. When he moved his arms back in front of his chest, the jewel in the medallion hanging inside his shirt was now present. The movement of the two brothers suddenly stopped as the next few images came through their minds.
The vision of the wooden corner gradually pulled back to reveal three red and black-edged guards standing watch. Going further back, it was revealed to be a large storeroom. Not a ship. Cell then sent images of him turning around to reveal he was sitting atop the edge of a window, on the other side of which lay the roofs of the other warehouses and the docks beyond. All the who’s and how’s were quickly answered as Cell sent them a mental image of Dex and the men’s mouths moving.
‘They were discussing Dex?’ Jeff asked with a raised eyebrow.
The notion of semi-agreement came through.
‘Did anything they talk about suggest Dex knows that’s where the magical resources are?’ Andrew demanded as he gripped his mug of ale tightly.
When a strong agreement blasted into their minds, the two brothers stared into each other's unfamiliar brown eyes. Pieces began falling into place and when Jeff finally spoke, Andrew looked like he wanted to throw up.
‘Those inspectors coming here… I suppose those are more of those mages who burned down Tanner’s pit. He probably cut some deal to split the goods with them and disappear in the carnage.’
‘We don’t know if what happened is connected to whatever Dex is planning.’ Andrew warned as he drew back before he looked around the room. His new eyes inspected the crowd before he strained his neck and found his target.
‘There’s Nate. Let’s get a better idea of who we’re dealing with here before we commit to anything.’
Following his brother's lead, he left the table and followed him until they got to a near-empty table by the door. Whether he had always been there or that hunger had driven Jeff to be reckless, it still left the lightning mage peeved that he hadn’t noticed him earlier.
“Evening, sir.” Andrew greeted in as warm a tone as he could manage.
“Ah, the two newest sailors in the world,” The blonde man said with a swing of his arms. That the mug of ale in his right hand didn’t spill on his white shirt or the blue jacket laying on the back of chair he sat in was an impressive feat.
“I suppose Beaton is back on the ship.”
“Nah. I had to do a very thorough and very long session with the harbor authorities on the fate of Tanner’s pit. Only recently finished and the old grouch will be done soon enough.”
He puckered his lips and rubbed his cheeks as the two men sat down with him.
“What do you know about this Dex person?” Jeff asked.
Nate rubbed his chin sagely as he plopped his mug down on the table.
“Truth is he’s some mage type who can’t cast spells. Don’t ask me anything about how magic works. The world turns on it but they don’t exactly hand out papers explaining the stuff.”
The brothers had probably forgotten more about magic than anyone in this tavern would ever know, but semi-full belies had brought about a new patience as they nodded in seeming agreement.
“Anyway, all I know is that Beaton used to be a harbormaster here. Some disagreement happened and… well, let’s say he hates the man more than a bear hates anything that messes with their pups. The details of it he’s never discussed with anyone.”
“Yes. But what about his as a person?” Jeff asked patiently, “Is he a patriot? Kind? What, exactly, is his job?”
Nate bobbed his head before he took a long swig.
“He’s as much of an asshole as any government official, I suppose. I do know why he’s here, though. His type of mage does something with the strips of leather. That, apparently, allows them to suck in the mana. As recompense, all that mana is then fed into their house and condensed into crystals as payment for maintaining the strips of leather.
You’d think working with leather a few hours a week and getting all the food, housing, and women they could want in return would be enough. But from what I’ve seen, they tend to be some of the meanest people you’ll ever meet. Bitterness in every word and abuse in every hand wave is what they’re typically known for. They do keep us all from dying, at least.”
“Oh, well, thank you for your time,” Andrew said as he got up. Jeff quickly followed as Nate waved them both goodbye.
Both men got their meals in their guts as fast as their necks would allow and promptly scurried out of the tavern as a black sky took over. For a minute they contended themselves with walking along the docks and looking over the various ships and houses that were probably going to soon be piles of dead people and burning ruins. Then the real conversation began.
‘Are we leaving?’ Jeff pondered to his brother walking on his right.
‘I’d…Hmm.’
It seems living as a peasant with actual consequences was beginning to wisen his brother up and forcing him to think over his actions more carefully.
‘If we did leave, what would we do after that?’ Andrew asked as a breeze of the cool night air blew over them.
‘Well, apparently a lot of the human settlements are going to be ash in the coming weeks. Such events would make people more suspicious. And if settlements are getting torched, I doubt any of the Orcs at the capital or anywhere else would be willing to let us into their private little world. The only ones they’d trust to meet with would be Gula and her mother, but we need to know where to safely talk with the Orcs for that meeting to happen. It’s a self-causing problem we currently have the solution to.
We have a connection with the Orcs now and I don’t think we’ll be getting one again.’ Jeff idly countered as he looked over the water
‘Great. A bitter crafter is going to end up blowing up an ultimate quad mage's dream of helping Orcs along with all of us.’
Jeff got a little smile as he turned to his brother.
‘Isn’t that pretty similar to how this all started? Seems like a poetic end to things.’
Andrew huffed before he turned to meet his brother’s eyes. They both stood there for a moment as the fire scion weighed life and death.
‘Are we seriously thinking about staying?’
The lightning caster shrugged.
‘We have the familiar of a quad mage, a ship that can get reinforcements within a few hours, and the element of surprise. If we have to try getting in touch with Orcs again, the next time will probably be in the capital. A bigger city with more guards, mages, and we might not have Cell on hand when things blow up. We know how to make crafts that don’t fail from spells and Cell can leave to retrieve mana. While waiting for Eli’s response, we can get a chest and store a lot of… future proofing weapons for the sailors if it comes to that.
Who knows, maybe being out here for so long has made us paranoid. But even if Dex has sold his town out I still think this is the best course of action since he wouldn’t part with the coin to feed the sailors if his fellows were just a day or two out. It's risky, but taking that bear in the neck back in Elves Clay with a flame spear was risky and you still did it.’
Andrew couldn’t suppress a smile at the memory. It was a cheap rub of his ego, but it did its job as his brother started speaking audibly.
“Fine. But if I end up having a stone spear chucked at my head, I expect you to take full responsibility for the course of events and step in front of me.”
Jeff rolled his eyes as they started walking down the docks towards the Picket.
“Tragically, being a bit shorter than you, it would probably graze my hair and still kill you. Don’t worry, I’ll name my firstborn son after you.”
A shove on his shoulder was all Andrew offered in retort as the night pressed against the two souls strolling alone in an unfamiliar town, in a foreign kingdom, on a continent they had only been to once before and seen through the windows of the embassy.
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