Vignette - Guardians

“Why do you call us guardians?’”

“A pathfinder is a symbol of creation, Candidate. Of originality. A guardian is a guard. He watches over and maintains that creation.”

“It is similar to your feudal days in many ways. If we step past the analogy of paths and talk of castles it might help you. A king or lord has weapons and armor. He gifts them to his guards in exchange for service. A sword as a symbol of position. Armour as a reminder of what will be required of them.

A guard might wish to be a king, but he has no armor nor weapons but his own to give. Guards without weapons or armor are simply peasants. To be a guard, you need a lord.”

“If that is your logic then why not call us Knights?”

“Because knights were known to occasionally become kings. It is not good to tempt humans with something beyond their reach.”

Chapter 20

Time passed in fits and starts. Among his other projects Timothy spent a few days on a sewage system. Where each home had a small cistern underneath their toilet like an indoor outhouse. A central above ground cistern used a remove material enchantment to remotely retrieve the sewage for composting. 100 homes with a sewage tank for each. Thankfully other people had made the tanks for timothy. All he had to do was enchant the composting tank on the surface to retrieve the contents of each of them. It was still a lot of work. Even using it was a good bit of work.

It brought to light certain attitudes that Timothy was starting to believe were endemic to humanity. Put any group of people together and they would stratify themselves socially.

In this case it was families with at least one guardian in them versus those without. Sewage retrieval for that many people was a multi person job. Considering the effort involved Da had set up a rotation to activate all 100 once a day in the evening. But nothing stopped a person from activating his own home's retrieval more often. So families with magic started to smell considerably better than those without.

Jenney tried to get ahead of it. She despised class lines of any kind and was bound and determined to show that they were not inevitable. She adapted a fast growing fragrant flower to help to mask the smell. A very astringent near-jasmine smell that edged into a sticky sweet narcotic scent. It did cover up the scent of BO and sewage. But the resulting smell was overpowering. Like a perfume from the 80’s. It was still better than sewage, but not as good as simply emptying the toilets more often.

The class lines still formed. Instead of being based on smelling like shit it was now smelling like near jasmine. Jenney failed hard.

It came up as a topic of conversation during the nightly family dinner. The dinner that had grown to include a few more than just family.

“We need to do something about this! A permanent lower class is just begging for long term trouble.” Jenney began to speak, barely waiting for the food to hit the table.

Regi huffed in exasperation but still responded, “It’s something they are deciding on their own. We didn’t tell them to act this way. Nor is it appropriate to tell them to act a different way. It-”

“But-” Jenney started.

“Let him finish dear, then you can have your say.” Ma’s voice was genial, but there was steel beneath it. Jenney apoligzed quickly and gestured for Regi to continue.

“We have gone over this before, every child needs to be encouraged to reach for magic. We desperately need more people who can use the tools, for defense or just to build our home. This is a windfall for us. We didn’t start it. We haven't encouraged it. But people will chafe under it and in doing so be encouraged to reach for more. It's a gentle incentive, instead of us trying to force it. A way for young children to improve not just their own but their whole families' position in life.”

Timothy was sick of this argument, variations of it had been going on since they met back up in the tutorial. He really didn’t want to hear it again so he threw a rock into the pool before it could escalate. “It's not just children you know.”

Jenney paused, right on the verge of the well hashed argument she paused to stare at him blankly. A blank stare that was mimicked by most of those at the table. He hid the satisfaction he felt and threw out a bit more, “Learning magic is not reserved for the children who didn’t make a foolish choice. I can’t promise trailblazing but anyone of any age can become a guardian.”

Having said his piece, he gave the pork, mushroom and squash fry up in the middle of the table a longing look before taking a bite of plain boiled near-yam.

Just another week before I get a decent meal. You can do it Timothy, stay strong!

“Timothy!” Patty’s pointed reminder, along with an elbow, brought him back to the conversation. “What do you mean? Only the golems could make someone a guardian right?”

Timothy’s jaw dropped. He thought it would derail the boring argument, he didn't realize that this was new information. “...I thought it was pretty obvious. You have gone through the awakening to become a guardian, you know what it entails right? You just have to have someone, or something if you include golems, work magic through you. The person involved feels the magic field for the first time and will not be able to unfeel. Instant guardian.”

“It’s the someone part as opposed to something that we are having a problem with Timothy John Mason. Kindly quit assuming it’s obvious and explain!” Ma’s voice was becoming less and less genial as she spoke, till at the end it was flatly annoyed.

“Just have Regi do it.”

The glare made him hurriedly add a few words.”

“Regi cast spells through people. I was curious and sat down with one of the guardians. Tom was his name. He described in detail what it felt like. He even demonstrated by casting a small lightning bolt. Him, not Regi through him. Not Regi teaching him how to. Just from observation. That keyed me in. All you have to do is connect to a norm and let them feel the same thing. Simp-” He bit off the last part of the word under another glare.

“I figured you all understood this already. How else would we get new guardians? Any kid who awakens on his own will be a pathfinder. If they are awakened with help they are a guardian. But if it's with help then someone needs to help them.” He shrugged, it really was simple.

Why did he have to explain this?

“The bit I have been struggling with is on how to encourage pathfinding without wasting peoples lives. I figured we have to start early showing them the way to self awaken, you know the little games with moving dandelion fluff or trying to will a seed to move on a slick surface. Anyone who doesn’t awaken by a certain age, say 15, we help and they become guardians.”

Arthur sat back, tapping his fingers on the dinner table in deep thought, “Let’s say this works as easily as you think it will. What happens without a Golem to safeguard their minds in the early days? I don’t know about you but I ‘killed’ myself a few times getting started.”

“From what Akil said, that was deliberate.” Timothy looked around before he spoke, trying not to monopolize the conversation. “They wanted you to realize how dangerous it was while it was still safe. We just have to be less ambitious and strongly suggest they start very small, and stay that way for a good long while. At some point, when I have that mythical free time, I'll have to create some kind of will meter. Something stupidly simple that will show what level of runes they are safe to use. We will probably still get deaths but I can’t fix stupidity. Hell I will make it change colors!” He grimaced, picturing all too many old novels where testing stones stood out. It had always seemed like a cliche plot device to him before. Now it might save lives.

Regi bleakly chuckled, “I guess the stink of near-jasmine will be useful for more than just getting people to awaken. Even after they do it might take a year of hard work before they can safely activate the sewage runes. Scent based encouragement to keep doing your mental workouts.”

He sighed, “Alright brother, thank you. It’s a good idea, a great one even. But it's not quite as easy as you seem to think. I spent a considerable amount of time in the tutorial building the bonds between myself and our crew. Bonds of loyalty.”

He paused searching for words, “Loyalty! It is not a simple thing. It's not an employment contract or signing on the dotted line. It takes time and the right attitude. They have to act loyal. Work at being loyal till it's not an act anymore. And I have to do the same. Loyalty, true loyalty, is a two way street. The very heart of what I do is based on it. If both sides don’t feel it, don’t resonate with the concept of it, then the bonds wont form no matter how long they work at it.”

“How about me Regi?” Jason spoke or the first time in a week, rising, for a moment at least, from his own depression. “I’m loyal, I’m blood. Can you awaken me?”

Silence.

Regi smiled with genuine joy, “Yes, James, if my own brother can’t join it wouldn’t be much of a Brotherhood now would it?” A very similar smile bloomed at last on Jason's drawn and pale features. A bit of hope grew into something real on his sad visage.

A few half hidden sniffles revealed the run of high emotions were not just between the two brothers. Even Timothy let out a relieved sigh. Merry had adapted to her new lot. Husband and child were an anchor that kept her steady. Only Jason had been left adrift. Trapped by his own foolishness, and what was worse, he knew it. He could not avoid being slapped by it every day. Finally he could start doing something to make it right.

Jason awakened the next day. The loyalty had been there already and the bonds formed without issue. After that it only took a few spells to show him what to feel for. Perhaps more important was that they did it fully in public, in the middle of the faux atrium below with most of the settlement as witnesses.

Their success sent massive waves through the community. Some hope but also considerable worry. The dangers of mind burnout were not something any guardian had hidden. Neither was the amount of work and training that would be required before any prospective new magicians was able to do anything useful.

Despite the worry it also provided hope. Hope for social mobility. That they would not be stuck on the bottom forever due to one poor choice. Still, it was only hope at this point. The path ahead of them was not short. Either in training or in becoming a member of the brotherhood. Loyalty was not a joke, it was not something that could be faked. Excessively cynical people, and Timothy was not at all sure that he would not fall in this category if Regi was not already his brother, might not be able to accept the bonds. Dishonest people would likewise have trouble inspiring any loyalty in return.

Like the legends of knights of the round table it required its members to prove their worth, both to themselves and to the other members. Without both steps they could not succeed.

And some would not succeed. This was not hidden either. It worked out better than they could have hoped. A large number of norms, desperate to prove their worth, began to volunteer for any task available. As the porters Regi needed. As weed pullers in the gardens or just cleaning the communal areas. A great number volunteered to move bags of dirt and such like for the construction effort.

They were welcomed glady. Construction had moved on apace with deep brown essence dirt walls lining the entire island with massive bunkers on top of them, but there was always more work to be done. In particular the current task was to have a reliable way across the river. A somewhat monumental task considering the sheer size of it.

“It's much too far to bridge without pylons, which I’m not sure how I could place right now anyway.” Timothy explained to the spokespeople for his volunteer crew. “So we are going to make boats. But before we can pull that off we need somewhere to both build those boats, and somewhere to store them when we aren't using them.

An older gentleman, thoroughly grey hair but still spry, winced at his lack of nautical terminology before cautiously speaking up, “So you haven't done much with boats before then?”

“Nope. For that you would want to talk to my brother.”

“Ah, well I have owned a number of boats and sailed them on many a lake or river before the fall. If you know what you want I can offer some suggestions or advice.”

“Not quite what I had in mind. Mr. ?”

“Ah just Willard. Old Willard when in doubt. Seems the fad these days to forget the last name. Not enough of us I guess.”

“Fair enough Willard,” Timothy pushed the blank wooden plaque over to him along with a chunk of charcoal, “She’s all yours. I have far too much to do anyway, at least if everyone here would like some plumbing in your homes?”

“Plumbing?” A younger man, stocky with short well kept black hair perked up, “You go right ahead Timothy sir, we got this. Just let us know what you want in general and be on your way!”

Laughter broke out, but it was laughter that fully supported the sentiment.

Timothy grinned, “Excellent! The instructions are pretty simple. You will have some Guardians come by around lunch, but they won’t be able to stay for more than 2 hours. Everyone is overcommitted right now. I need you to have their two hours of work designed, paced off, marked and whatever else you can think of before then. Figure we need births for at least two largish boats. Exact size you are going to have to ask around and figure out, but big enough that spitting fish won’t endanger the crew. It would be best if it could be expanded later. You are going to have to mostly build outward so part of your job is going to be hefting dirt sacks from the other river bank. I think someone rigged up a hand cart or two so you might want to look into that.”

He paused tapping his chin in thought. “Nope, can’t think of anything else. Have fun gentlemen. If you don’t know something then find someone who does.”

They gladly patted him on the back and assured him they could handle it.

As he walked away he wondered if they really did. This was a test in many ways. Sure they needed the boat house. But they also needed smart, self motivated people. There were alot of men and women who could move a sack when directed. From here to there while avoiding all sharp edges and holes in the ground. Far more rare and valuable were people who could figure out why they were moving the sack and move it to the correct place without having their hands held. A failure here would not sink their chances of becoming a guardian, but it would tell him what position they would hold afterwards.

Timothy only wished he had thought of it. It had been Arthurs plan, the man was sharp as a whip in these sorts of matters. Unfortunately just about everyone had figured that out by now. People paid more attention when he gave out a job. That could be important when they really needed one thing done. It was less useful when they were trying to figure out someone's character. This way worked better, most people let their guards down when it was just Timothy giving the task.

Now I just have to finish up this running water issue.

It was an annoying problem. He could easily create a sink and faucet combo that anyone with magic could activate. It was the same as the sewage system. A small water tank on the ceiling of a home. Activate a remove-material rune to remotely fill it from the river. A specific rune filled with clean boiled water, and sealed under a layer of glass to make sure the water was always clean. A small stone pipe down to a faucet with a cork in it. No finicky magic rune work needed.

What made it annoying was the quantity and location. The material removal enchantment pulled from a location and dumped to where the enchantment was. It pulled, it did not push. For a sewage that was easy. Just do each enchantment on the compost cistern. Now though he would have to go into every home to do the enchanting.

It was not a critical need. The central fountain basin was regularly filled with filtered water. People could and did take pitchers from it back to their homes. Hell even after he was done many would still have to do the same. Unlike with the sewage activating a room in your own home would be up to the homeowner to arrange. They could either pay someone to activate it for them or go get water from the fountain. Looking at the runes sitting there, ready to go, should provide motivation for the laziest of people.

“Haaaa.” It was still going to be a ton of work. 100 homes. He made his way through the checkpoints and down the ramps with a sack of tools firmly in hand. He wouldn't need much, but instead of winging it each time he had set up tools to do this in one go, rather than manually doing it each time. He also had a list of distances on the wooden map in his other hand. Locations of each home in relation to the river along with the number that had been carved into the wall next to each home in case he got turned around.

“Haaa..” He couldn’t put the awkward moment off anymore.

“Knock, Knock, Knock” He rapped at the wall next to the curtained opening. Wood was a bit limited at this point. Just plain heavy to move in any quantity. Even when a joiner could make even sawdust into something useful. Vine cloth was much more readily available.

“Yes? Can I help-” The curtain opened and a short hispanic woman stared at him in no small amount of shock. “Senior Timothy, is something wrong?” She asked worriedly.

It kind of hurt to get the guberment man response. He felt for her, if some muckety muck knocked on his door in the before he would have been worried too.“No, it’s just Timothy, no mister, and would you like running water?”

“Ummm… Yes? Is this a trick question?”

“No trick, but I need access to your home to do it. I’m going to be walking down this hall a house at a time for the foreseeable future. You’re just the first house on this branch. May I come in, Mrs. ?”

“Henriette, Senior, un momento por favor.” She quickly dodged back into her home and he smiled at the common domestic sounds of a quick clean up. Some things never change, and that made him happy. A bit of normality was a rare find.

It did not take that long. No one had much in the way of possessions to clean.

“Please, come in. It is a bit rough.”

“Thank you, I’ll be about half an hour, if you don’t mind could you warn your neighbor in #2 that I am coming?” He brushed past the curtain and headed for the back right wall as he talked. Ignoring the simple condensed earth or stone dishes and cutlery. The only furniture was the stone table and a stone bench against the wall that each home was made with. In time that would change. He guessed that she had pushed most of her belongings into the back room of the two room house. A guess he found all the more likely by the small grinning faces peeking out from that doorway.

He smiled and waved but didn’t attempt to make their acquaintance. He didn’t want to disrupt Henrietta’s home any more than he had to. He placed the ‘Tank Making Tool’ (yes his naming sense sucked) against the wall, two wooden dowels provided a regular spacing from the corner and the floor and a quick activation removed two peg shaped pieces of rock. He pushed down and the tool fit into the holes, holding itself upright on the wall. Activating the second enchantment on the tool condensed the material behind the wall into a circular ten gallon (or so) tank. The extra material from the middle of the tank being used up in condensing the walls. The third enchantment removed material just slightly bigger than the tank's size. A perfect cleaning really, he might have to have someone come back and use this tool to clean them out regularly.

The fourth, fifth and sixth enchantments removed an air hole out the top, a water spigot hole in an L shape below and cut a small square panel shape from the wall beneath the tool. Removing the tool he fit one of his premade handles into the two peg holes and used a pen sized joiner to fuse the handle into place. A small tug removed the section of material allowing the owner to dump water into the tank manually.

Pulling his pen out he referenced the map then carved the material removal enchantment at the right distance to pull from the river. The boiled water and a cover to purify the water would be done by someone else once the enchantment charged. All told just a minute or so longer than the half hour he had expected.

He thanked Henrietta for her patience and was on his way to the second home.

It was going to be a long day. A long couple of days.

Days passed in dreary uniformity; get up, eat bland food, spend an hour or two on his own projects, then about ten hours of carving water runes. He managed around twenty homes a day. He did take a number of breaks just to keep his head from exploding. It was still rough and he fell into bed drenched in sweat and aching every night.

He tried to work first and study in the evening but the headaches made that impossible. So the early morning hours became his lifeline. A spot of originality and wonder amongst the dull trudge of repetitive WORK.

I need a cubicle to go with this sort of soul destruction… Maybe these homes are my new cubicles?

Still, this should be the last day. Only a partial one at that, it was shy of noon and he had only seven houses left to do. Then he could finally spend more time with his various projects and plans. Water, sewage, food and good defenses. A decent basis to prevent disease and survive against the predators. He might actually get to something besi-

THRUMM...THHRUMM,THRUMM...THRUMM...THRUMM,THRUMM

He cursed, he had to go and jinx it. The low heavy beat echoed through the earth and vibrated his very bones, even multiple stories underground. Just like it was supposed to. That was the beat of the alarm drum. They had had to get creative to find something that could be heard a good distance out into the jungle as well as deep underground. The heavy split wooden drum from some polenesian culture he had never heard of definitely fit the bill.

He dragged up the codes he had been taught earlier that week, one beat a pause then two fast beats, it meant possible danger to the north. The rumble of the great wooden drum penetrated through the earth with ease. It was audible for a mile, a bit of earth was not a barrier.

Timothy was sprinting for the residential area exit even as his mind meandered on about the percussive instrument.

The benefits of being a genius. I can run and think at the same time! A self deprecating chuckle took air that was desperately needed elsewhere. He gave it up and focused on running.

Four doors later he was at last at the northern bunker as the drum tone changed.

THRUMM … THRUMM ...THRUMM.

The all clear beat, he thought sourly. Sourness that turned to guilt a moment later. A bit of a run was still preferable to a real emergency. Through the firing slit he could see the Hunting party returning. Ten heavily laden porters surrounded by twenty guardians with Regi in the lead. A closer look revealed it to be 10 and 19. The guilt returned even harder, they lost someone.

It was only later that evening that he heard the full story. They had been very careful, barely inside the outer layer of the jungle to carve off branches and collect vines. Not going too deep didn’t save Lenney Malkins though. He forgot to look up and a shadow snake got him.

A strike and he was pulled into the branches. Too quick to respond and snake venom was potent. It was unlikely he could have been saved even if they had reacted in time. They were learning, but sometimes it felt like each lesson had a price tag payable only in lives.

The next morning he started creating armor enchantments. ‘Protection, specific and direction’ together created a box of protection that would only act on one specific thing, cloth in this case. He had created it in the tutorial but had not had time to bring it out yet. Keeping disease from spreading through cleanliness had taken precedence. Running water and sewage… He didn’t think even now that it had been the wrong choice. Guilt didn’t care about logic.

Perhaps someday he would have disciplined his mind enough to reject such pointless guilt. Banish it with chains of logic. That day was not today. The short ceremony where Lenney’s name was added to the obelisk ran again and again in his head.

He took a drink of water, wishing, just for a moment, that the water was the fermented blueberries some enterprising norms had started brewing. He couldn’t say it smelled good. Few fermenting things did. But he was very much looking forward to trying it out.

That would be at a later date. He refocused on the project on his table. It would let normal clothing act like platemail. Like all magic it took a constant toll on the will to keep it activated, he didn’t have room to make this one persistent. The nice bit was that it didn’t take a great deal of magic charge unless something was actively damaging the cloth.

It had weaknesses, like many old world armors, it spread the impacts out across the surface of the cloth. Unlike old earth armor it also reduced the impact by a little bit besides. For a normal hit that was survivable, but if a giant boar charged, then the impact would still crush a man. It also only worked if the material it was working on was all of the same kind.

The clothing they were given by the golems was made of multiple kinds of fibers and it didn’t cover the neck and head. Even if he had made this enchantment earlier it would not have done much good.

They had worked it out eventually. After numerous experiments joining different jibers together Arthur’s group finally settled on a hemp-like fiber concentrated into a near-hemp essence and joined into a hooded cloak. Fitted clothing was coming, but it took individual measurements and fiddly bits for each suit. The cloak had a simple toggle to keep it closed at the neck. It would have saved Lenney...

Learn from it! But don’t let it eat you.

Each armor enchantment was a stone medallion on a near-hemp string. Thirty odd minutes of work each, not including the time needed to make the cloaks. Thankfully he had learned that lesson long ago. Delegate! Cloaks rolled off the molds faster than he could make amulets.

Still, he needed at least 30 for the hunting party, maybe an extra type for regi that would have a much larger effective box. He could lean on the will of those back in the base to shield the porters. Yes, that would work.

“Now get busy, except for you..” He said in an abysmal attempt at Porthos’s voice.

Another day spent in nearly mindless toil. He needed a break. Some time to work on new and interesting projects, not just recarving the same old runes in various configurations. It was time to work on a boat.

Not just any boat, a boat that would fix a long standing issue. He had created far too many motion wards so far. Each card could only be used until it filled the internal reservoir with motion, any further and it released the stored motion in an… energetic manner. Until now, he had not had a use for stored motion.

A boat that used stored motion to move and in doing so emptied a defensive card that could be used to protect the boat. Even better it could be used while moving on the water. The cards only absorbed solid motion. Flowing water was specifically exempted.

He had a plan this time. First, delegating the fiddly bits. He knew jack shit about boats as his conversation with Willard had shown. Better to let someone else deal with that. Since a noticeable chunk of Runeholds citizens came from Regi’s contacts in the merchant marine it should not be difficult to get that done right.

“Hey Regi, I need a boat.”

Regi eating stopped and looked at him “oookay, could you be a bit more especific?”

Timothy shook his head “Not really, no. I have a way to move the boat around quickly and I hope, safely. You know about boats. Anything else about the boat should come from you. I was hoping you could use it to move your hunting party about, in between ferrying people to the opposite shore. Just make sure it fits in the boat house when it's done.”

“You know Timothy, mostly when people ask for something they have an idea what they want. You are ignoring an awful lot of details.”

He looked at Regi with a raised eyebrow, “I am not an idiot Regi, would you trust a boat that I built having never ridden one in my life?”

“Point, a definite point. Alright, I have a number of my old crew who can do this job with ease. Should I send them to you?”

“No thank you, just have them make the boat. Only requirement is that it's made from the wood of only one tree. It would be best if it is a rarer wood.”

Regi hesitated, then bit the bullet “Why?”

“I’m using stored motion to move it. If the full ship, and only the ship, is made of one type of wood, then much like your armor runes, the motion will apply to the entire boat. It will have a control wand with a variable dial set for the portion of the storage card that should be expended at any given time. Point the wand in the direction of travel and activate it.” Timothy shrugged, no reason to make it complicated when he didn't have to. Point and click was a good way to go.

“Why a rare wood?”

“You made yourself some essence wood skinning knives didn't you? If the boat is the same wood the motion might be applied to your belted knife. Considering you weigh considerably less than the boat some comedic hyjinx might ensue.”

Regi winced at that mental image. “Alright, alright, I may have to make a special trip to cut down a tree for this. At least with the material removal tricks we can cut it into small chunks and still join it together easily. That or see if I can cut it down into the river and float it down.”

Timothy nodded before heading back to his workshop. He was a bit disappointed. Plans for an original creation had turned into just another hack job. A wand with a dial… whoo hoo.

No, he would spend a half hour and create the tool. No reason not to, it would be useful to have around. Then he would work on… hmm.

Ah! My species runes!

He had wanted to create detection wards for a while now. But he needed to be able to describe what he wanted the wards to recognize. The specific rune would work, but for complex creatures it was not enough. Grass leaves were simple. As long as it was the same species of grass they could be joined as one. A piece of grass in the specific rune would work on other pieces of grass. The same was mostly true of trees, every once in a while joining would fail, but usually it worked. Likewise a piece of wood could be used to detect other trees of the same kind. Bark from the tree usually didn't work though.

None of it worked at all with people. A drop of blood placed in the specific box detected only that person's blood… and that only for a short time. Then it stopped working. Maybe dried out? Maybe dead blood? He had no idea. A piece of a critter was not the answer. A runic representation of that critter was.

He already had a rune that symbolized himself. Perhaps a signature could be used for finding specific other people. He would try that out but it didn’t matter now. He wanted a rune that would key on all humans.

His hands started the same old tasks, carving a wand for the boat, prepping a dial for speed. His mind, however, was fixed on what made humans… human. He had started on this path during the tutorial, but had never finished it. He would rectify that now. After he proved the concept worked with easily checkable humans, he could make one for shadow snakes and chameleon cats. He would like to see them try to sneak up with a bull horn going off.

Where would he find a bull horn though...

“Timothy… TIMOTHY!”

“WHAT?” He put down his notes on humanity and stumbled over to the window of his workshop.

Regi was standing below it in the garden level “I need that boat moving wand! Did you finish it? Arthur found a passel just up river from here. It's an opportunity to get a massive amount of meat and thin the herds.”

Arthur had been in the scrying room? Timothy had not even noticed anyone going by. He really needed that human species rune. It would make a handy doorbell.

“Yes, yes, i finished it a while back. Come on up and grab it. I even put the full motion storage cards in a sack for you.“ And it was a heavy sack!

“What about those hunting rifles I requested?” Timothy winced at that, his early essence light rifles detonated whatever they hit. Hardly an effective way to hunt. It took very little time to change up the rune set to massively reduce the output. From an eighth of a storage card and over a circle a tenth of a foot in diameter he had dropped it to a fiftieth part of the storage card over a hundredth of a foot in diameter. Testing it on a jaraptor corpse had revealed high localized burning with some penetration but no exploding.

“I have five of them ready. Make sure you pay attention to the barrel. I dyed it a bright blue. Should make it obvious which version you are shooting.”

Timothy turned away from the window and bundled up the requested items. A quick handoff through the trap door (he needed to rig up a dumbwaiter) and they were on their way.

“If Arthur isn’t going with you, send him up please? He can watch how well the boat and new items work with me. Maybe Gareth as well, he can write a song about your bravery.”

“I will hurt you brother mine. Fine, I'll send them up. If you see anything coming make sure to use the bug drums. We should still be in range.”

It took a bit, but soon Regi was on the water in the new vessel. 45 feet long, it didn’t fit in the original boat house, but they did make it with expansion in mind. So partial Pass for Willard he guessed.

The view from the scrying pool was excellent. So much so that he put it up on the big screen. No reason not to share this one. He tried to have a show at least every couple days, even if it was usually Arthur who did the showing. This was just a bit early for the schedule. As a crowd pleaser he even gave them a view from underwater. Watching schools of fish eddy about was amazing… right up until one of those larger fish was mobbed by piranha’s. People forgot before the fall, nature may be gorgeous, but it's also scary brutal. The new world turned that up to 11.

“Hmm, 11. I need to put ears on the eye.” He muttered.

“When you listen to yourself speak, does it make any sense?” Gareth looked at him doubtfully.

“..Yesss. Why wouldn’t it?”

“You just said ‘11, I need to put ears on the eye.’ I doubt I am the only one in the room who has no clue what you're talking about.”

Jenney chuckled from the pillow next to him. “Let it go Gareth, trust me this conversation will only end with you more confused than when it started?”

“Et tu Jenney? It makes perfect sense! You just heard only part of the conversation.”

Jenney shook her head with a small smile “You opened the box Gareth, enjoy!”

Timothy frowned at her “It's not complicated. I just noticed how the new world turned both beauty and savagery up to 11, then making the obvious connection I decided I would like to hear through this scrying pool. So I need to put ears on the eye.” Timothy pointed to the all seeing eye, currently hidden behind the image of a 45 foot long 15 feet wide decked boat. A boat worth an extra look or three. It had a large door sitting mid ship in the deck. If he couldn’t guess it was for cargo, the makeshift crane next to it would have given it away. No, on a boat they called it a mast and boom, not a crane. Silly naval jargon...

The entire ship was made out of near-purpleheart. The visually striking wood normally was a pale purple picked out with red highlights, having been concentrated into wood essence, both colors had much more intense depth. The boat was now vibrantly purple with red highlights that appeared like flames in the light reflecting off the water.

Gareth opened his mouth, then reconsidered and let it drop.

“It looks to be making good time. How fast do you think Arthur?”

“It’s against the current, your current view doesn't show the banks. It creates an optical illusion of greater speed. They are going maybe 5 miles an hour. That may be due to caution rather than max speed.”

“Hmm?” Timothy moved the pool's point of view far enough out to show both banks. The boat indeed looked to be moving considerably slower.

The passel of giant boars was only around two miles upstream. Frankly they should have been visible but the next loup of the river curved sharply towards the north. A finger of the jungle blocked the view.

It didn’t take long at all for the boat to reach its destination. They dropped a stone anchor on a condensed vine cable within easy sight of their targets. The boars were head down in the water on the jungle side of the river. The boars seemed honey badger-ish. They did not give a fuck about the boat on the water. A mistake that this particular passel was going to pay dearly for. Boars began to drop, small trails of smoke rising from holes burnt into their skulls. The smaller rounds seemed to work. Not just that the Boars did not put two and two together and get a boat. They milled about, the larger boars on the outside looking for threats while the sows gathered the piglets to the center.

As boar after boar dropped at last a tipping point was reached. The sows bolted for the jungle with the piglets while the boars berserkly blitzed in all directions. An effective strategy against other predators, it was not normally a good one against humans, but even a broken clock is correct twice a day. They all winced at the savage looking boar released all of its stored energy and flung itself across the waves in a streak of brown. Surprisingly accurate it hammered into the blessedly activated motion ward and stopped. Maybe two tones of meat going from 35 miles per hour to nearly zero in an instant. It turned into pork jelly. All the bones in its body splintering and shattering from the front to back. The resultant pile hung in the air for a half second before sliding down through the motion ward at a speed below its threshold.

Timothy grimaced, caught between a sigh of relief and vomiting in disgust. He deliberately looked at the wall for a moment while trying to get his stomach back under his control.

He glanced back to see the hunting team pull up the anchor and move into the shore. It did not look like many of the boars got away but all the sows and piglets did. Probably in respect for proper hunting etiquette. Always leave pregnant mothers and mothers with young be. It was not like they needed more meat. A healthy fifteen boars were dead on the grass besides the river. At between a tone and a half and two tones each it was far more meat then they could use anyway. Some of it would be wasted.

The next couple hours were nerve racking. Moving tons of pork in one go was not really an option, even with the boom and twenty odd people on the line. Instead about half the hunters spread out to cut the pigs while the rest stood guard. After gutting them a thin shovel/axe could be used to quarter the animal. If It was quartered before the guts were removed then the interior of the intestines and some organs could ruin the meat.

Still all of this took time. Time that got increasingly frightening when a small pack of ja-raptors showed up for the free food. No shots were exchanged. The raptors had plenty of food available and so did the humans. No reason to start a fight when you didn’t have to.

The trip back was anticlimactic. No attacks or drama of any kind. Just a half hour of cruising on a breathtaking river followed by hours of back breaking work to retrieve and butcher the hogs from the hold.

They had meat and no one died. That made It a good day!

Now if only they could find some near-matoes and get a real BBQ going!