Vignette - Near-Mosquitoes

Why not giant mosquitoes? Because giant is getting old!

An individual Mosquito is annoying and a revolting creature but is not really deserving of terror. A cloud of tens of thousands of Mosquitoes on the other hand can drain the blood from a hog in under five minutes.

That's what makes them terrifying.

Thankfully they seem to require bodies of stagnant water in order to breed. Being larger, around six inches in length, than their old world relatives they require large bodies of such water, not merely a few puddles.

So far no magic abilities have been observed from them, reinforcing the theory that magic abilities are linked to intelligence. What is worrisome is that they grew to the size they are, and that they can survive on an occasional kill strategy rather than a constant low level drain strategy. One theory is that magic inundated the blood of their prey making it considerably more potent. Quality over quantity.

-Species Tablets at Runehold

Chapter 27

One dead, twenty-two injured. Of the injured, barring something new, one was permanently maimed. The unfortunate man, Marik, was operating the motion ward that detonated inside the walls. His hand was grasping the card when it cooked off. His life was saved by the quick reactions of his brothers in the bunker, they doused his wrist with a blood clotting potion. It saved his life, but there was nothing of the hand remaining to be saved.

That was not the end of Mariks troubles. Like a drunk driver, a military man’s mistakes don’t fall only on him. The only death was his best friend, Haris, who held the protection runes on the containment box and the wall in front of it. The runes held long enough to channel most of the explosion out of the bunker, but the runes crumbled in the end, and Harris’s mind with them. He held long enough to save the bunker. It was a heroic death.

He was still dead.

And his death on Mariks shoulders.

A fact that he was going to have to live with, along with a missing hand.

It was an unpleasant but necessary reminder to the rest of the guard. That while they used magic to great effect, it was no toy. Every magic wielder risked their mind when channeling energies they did not necessarily understand, and the mind was much harder to heal then mere flesh and bone.

Four other injuries occured due to overloaded wall protection runes. They stumbled about with all the hallmarks of a truly spectacular bender, loopy and uncoordinated. Only the hangover was concurrent with the inebriation. Having experienced this state in training Timothy predicted that they should recover in time. Should.

The remaining injuries were broken bones and contusions from the Nellie getting knocked about on her journey home. Apparently they needed to consider seat belts… Painful in the short term, the injuries were not permanent.

The owners of some of those injuries were somewhat less blasé about the situation.

“You haven't seen a beast wave before?” Timothy’s mind raced with this new information. Bit’s and pieces of theories fitting together into a more recognizable whole.

“Dear gods no! We get a steady stream of wild animals attacking our settlement but nothing like this… abattoir!” The poor man was white from shock, and the pain of a broken forearm. Jenney’s med crew had splinted the break, but he was still holding, rather than drinking, the potion that went with it.

Timothy stopped him when he raised the small vial to his lips. “Hold up, you can’t just drink it. It needs magic to do its job, here let me prime it for you.” Timothy reached over and placed one finger on the vial. He focused his mind and willed the potion to quicken. It was a moderate effort of will as it was not his original magic. He didn’t really understand what was in it or how it worked, and had to pay for that ignorance, but this was a minor enough spell and his will was well trained. The magic inside the cup of foaming orange colored juice sprung to life. “Now down the hatch, unless you want to wait for it to heal naturally?”

Two of the Paradisian diplomats, named Henry and Monika, as well as Timothy and Patty were sitting together in the Garden, enjoying a bit of evening sunshine away from the gore piled up outside the walls. With a dubious grimace Henry threw back the potion, visibly stealing himself for a kick. A kick that did not materialize. His eyes widened and the grimace gave way to a shocked smile of pleasure.

“I know, Jenney failed at that part. Medicine should taste like medicine. Terrible! Not like an overly warm fruit smoothie.” Timothy snickered, drawing the smile wider on Henry's face.

“It is almost a tradition, if it’s good for you it should taste terrible!” He agreed, the color returning rapidly to his face even as he spoke.

“Give it three days before you remove the splint,” Patty cautioned, “one potion a day until then and make sure to eat heartily in the meantime.”

“I broke my arm as a child,” he mused with a smile, “seven weeks in a cast with some potentially addictive pain meds vs three days with fruit smoothies. There are some really nice sides to our new existence.” There was wonder in Henry’s voice, along with a bit of guilt.

It was a familiar guilt that they all felt. How dare they like something about a world that was forced on them? They had all felt it, and they did the only thing they could. They ignored it and let that wound alone.

“Getting back to our earlier topic” Timothy gave a wry smile, he had seen more than enough of this illogical guilt. Deciding to live was not a betrayal. It did not make you a collaborator. “I am speaking off theories here, guesses really, we don’t have proof. We assume the hogs have a lemming mechanic built into them. They breed and grow so fast that they soon overwhelm the available resources. They eat everything, so those resources are quite numerous. But they breed like bunnies so eventually they overwhelm even this magical ecosystem. The kicker is that they seem to feed on magic directly as well.”

“Vegetation and scavenge are out of their control, it grows however it will. Magic, though, is not. So they go berserk and try to remove the largest accumulation of magic in the area. Right now that large accumulation is Runehold.” He glanced at his guests to make sure they were following along.

“I assume you don’t have nearly as much accumulated magic at Paradise.” It wasn’t an assumption, he had looked the place over. “Runehold is drawing in animals from a considerable distance as well. So you haven't been hit. Yet.”

The color Henry had regained fled quickly. He wasn’t alone in pursuit of albinism as Monaka joined in.

Patty sighed “That was a bit too blunt Timothy! Alright, enough of that, I'll take you down for a nice hot soak. Did you bring swimsuits? If not we can stop by the clothing stores on the way down…” She hustled the guests over to hold residential ramps, leaving a bemused Timothy behind. Much as he would enjoy the view of Monaka in a swimsuit he could take a hint. Besides, he needed to sit down and ruminate on the array of spells hanging on the dragon while it was still fresh in his head.

He stood up and stretched, enjoying the dazzling afternoon sun. In a half hour the sun would fall beneath the walls of the hold, bathing them in shadows, but for now it was glorious. Life was like that sometimes. Enjoy the moment, but don’t forget what is coming.

Time passed again, filled with repairs and clean up. Even after scavengers picked over the carrion there were still plenty of usable bones. A joiner tool and a pile of them resulted in a brick of bone that could be separated out to make anything from fine china to wood inlays. Waste not want not. Everything was usable and waste was abhorrent.

The repairs were a bit more finicky. Large cracks spiderwebbed their way over and through the bunkers and the river retaining walls. Each required a joiner to liquify and resolidify the essence dirt back into a solid whole. But the liquid could just sag down if it was unsupported. Instead a large flat pad of wood was pressed into the surface of the wall before the joiner, with a specific rune to essence dirt, was used. Getting to the damage on the outer walls was occasionally awkward, frequently dangerous as piranhas took pop shots and always annoying. Still in time they got the job done.

All of this took effort and time. It also offered opportunity. Several norms made themselves very useful hunting through the grisly remains for bones or holding presser plates in place for the joiners. They were not ordered to do this, they volunteered. They organized themselves and were standing at the inner gates when the all clear was beat. They marched out in mass to help, grateful to the guardians that they were still alive and safe. Guilty that some of their protectors did not share that state.

In effect they acted like real, decent people. They were not acting like leeches. They were ready to be more than what they currently were.

So several days after the wave the first instance of a ceremony that was bound to linger through the ages occurred. They called it ‘The Oath Giving’. Men and women who had proved themselves to be worthy of the responsibility and loyalty of their peers. They stood before those peers and gave their oath to always strive to live up to that responsibility.

No protestations of loyalty were required or given. If loyalty was not there then the bonds would not form anyway. If the loyalty ever fled then the bond would as well.

It was a simple ceremony, but all the more powerful for it. Long speeches would have just put people to sleep, they don’t engender awe or a feeling of belonging. Simple sincerity and a belief that they were called to a sacred responsibility laid the foundation. As Regi one by one formed the bonds and they felt the depths of loyalty that surrounded them the walls on those foundations began to rise.

The awakening that occurred after the bonding was somewhat anticlimactic. A newly awakened will was a fragile thing. Each would have to be carefully trained in developing that seed if they were to be useful magic wielders.

Only Twentyseven managed to achieve this state in the dirty, nasty work following the wave, but it was a massive step, and a political gold mine. Each remaining norm had additional proof that if they were willing to go the extra mile in voluntarily helping the hold, then they could step up beyond the bounds of their current social class. They also had proof that it was not guaranteed. Two volunteers, hard workers both of them, that stood on the stage failed to form the bond.

Timothy was somewhat worried about the results. He was not the only one, a bit of a stigma was attached to the two of them. They were hard enough workers, what dark secrets were they hiding that prevented them from becoming a part of the whole? Arthur was keeping an eye on the situation, but it did not look good.

Still, the ceremony was a huge hit. The celebration that exploded in the hold afterwards was even more of a hit. Rotgut hooch, bbq pork and skimpy swimsuits . Even Timothy was unwilling to remain apart. A skeletal watch was kept, but the remainder of the hold ended up in the baths with floating platters of food and drink.

Gareth in fine form was belting out “♪I ain’t going to be just a face in the crowd♪” Happy like a state farm commercial as the center of attention. The first acceptable metal stringed guitar from Sally’s talented hands beat out a melody to match his voice.

Timothy stood, or rather floated, corrected. Metal was indeed important even in the post tech society! He ruminated on that for a moment while sipping on a berryaid. Enjoying the slight buzz and gorgeous scenery to go with the tunes.

Monaka, as attractive as his overactive imagination had portrayed her in a skimpy two piece, her tall, slim, nordic looks and waist length hair brought out even more vibrantly by hot water and the lack of clarity a haze of steam could engender, broke the musics hypnotic hold with a question.

“Am I to understand that you can elevate a non magical human to guardian status in a couple minutes?”

Regi, sitting with his arm around her smoothe pale shoulders, had already discussed the subject with the council. It could not be hidden anyway, so might as well be open with it. “Close but not quite. If someone joins the Brotherhood I can use magic through them. Feeling magic in use is how a guardian is made. It awakens them to magic by letting them feel how to reach for the magic field themselves. That much is simple and quick. The 'not quite’ is that they have to join the Brotherhood first. That takes real loyalty in both directions. I have to feel loyalty to them, and they must feel it to the Brotherhood.”

“How long does that take?” Henry, floating on a wooden chair between the pillars, interjected.

“No real rule so far. It’s been six months and these are the first non family members who have managed it. I think that several others who frequently volunteer are also close to it.” Regi, clearly enjoying his arm candy, was magnanimous enough to reply.

“It’s a pretty valuable thing, to turn somewhat useless residents into contributors..” Another of the diplomats joined the question, John something or other. Timothy had not paid much attention to the introductions. No one in their right mind would have him deal with them anyway.

The nodding Alisha was a different story. The short curvy, olive skinned brunette had made herself stand out by the simple expedient of declining the optional swimsuit. Priorities had to be made after all.

Timothy tuned out the ensuing argument about human usefulness in favor of enjoying the view. He had heard Jenney harp on the subject for months after all. His pleasant stupor was eventually interrupted and he snapped back into the moment.

“What was that?”

“We were wondering if this sort of bath was something you would be willing to trade.” Monaka picked up the question without moving her eyes away from Regi.

Sometimes, just occasionally, it sucked being shory and wirey.

“Not really, it takes a fair amount of infrastructure that I would likely have to travel to Paradise to install. You could ask the council I guess.” Timothy politely responded while internally thinking Not a chance in hell. This was a bit more than a private bath for Tina, even the gorgeous view in front of him was not going to make up for that amount of travel and work.

He had relaxed his controlling tendencies a little bit when it came to enchantments floating about Runehold, but traveling to another town was a real stretch.

A frown on Jenney and Regi’s face told him he had fooled no one who knew him. That was ok though, as long as he fooled a few who did not. No point annoying pretty ladies when it wasn’t necessary.

Alisha reached for a cup on the floating table, accidentally (riiiight) arching her back in the process. The temporary short circuit that ensued did not stop Timothy from continuing the conversation.

“Are you sure, we do have a lot to trade and I would give ‘anything’ for a regular heated bath.” The emphasis cleared any doubt about her posture being accidental. Much as he was enjoying the view, and the flirting, Timothy had no intention of changing his mind on the subject.

Still, there were pleasantries to be observed! He would not be so ungracious as to deny her the opportunity to change his mind.

The discussions, and the party, lasted far into the night. As he walked back to his tower, alone, Timothy ruefully shook his head. Building willpower was important, but good habits were just as important. As much as he enjoyed both the view and the agile mind behind it Alisha represented an unnecessary risk. There were plenty of beautiful and willing women he could flirt with, and perhaps more, around Runehold. A stranger who could potentially stick a knife in him during the night was a step too far.

Sure sure, he didn’t think she would actually do that. But eventually they might meet people who would. Magic was powerful, but there was a line from an older book that kept popping into Timothy’s mind. “No matter how subtle the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style.”

Latching the trap door shut behind him, Timothy prepared the comfortably large bed, tucked up against the wall of his workshop, caressed its soft mattress and fluffy pillows, before pulling his simple pallet out from underneath it.

The sacrifices he made... But magic was worth it!

Alcohol aided conversations in a hot tub progressed the diplomatic situation far more than multiple formal meetings had. Timothy took it as a word from on high, nothing useful could occur in a stuffy boardroom. Real people made real decisions without that nasty place.

The diplomats only stayed a week before returning to Paradise loaded with thoughts, questions and no doubt a few schemes. Having stayed mostly out of it, Timothy was blind sided by the fruition of those schemes in a council inspired by the return of a diplomatic party on the next weekly run of the Nellie.

“The Paradisians have proposed an alliance, they want access to our spells. In particular they want to awaken as many of their normals as possible and they want heated baths.”

“Where did this come from? It seems pretty… I am not finding the word but it’s too quick. They don’t know us and we don’t know them.” Timothy was shocked and it showed.

Mama Patty smiled at him wryly “Survival Timothy. Half of this is your doing. You were pretty clear, in your blunt non-political way, that they would see a beast wave eventually. They want assurances of assistance.”

“They are not asking for it for free either,” Arthur cut in, “Allowing us to recruit from their norms will dramatically strengthen the Brotherhood and due to the very nature of Loyalty it's not a strength that can be used against us.”

Regi nodded emphatically “Each additional member increases the amount of mana stored in the bonds as well as providing a larger information net. They are offering us a permanent view into their settlement. But it goes the other way too.”

Timothy tried again “That is my point, we are getting too much out of this, it’s too good of a deal! What’s the catch?”

Papa Joe took a turn “The catch, Timothy, is loyalty. This is not the old world where betrayal is inevitable and everyone is only looking out for themselves. If the Brotherhood takes members from Paradise then that loyalty must go both ways. It’s a permanent alliance where the very power of our magic requires us to help them.”

That sunk in, an alliance was not simply words on paper anymore. It was a magical construct that required good faith from both groups.

“Huh, well that is different. It’s not an alliance with Runehold so much as it is joining the brotherhood. If that's the case then it's not up to me, it's all on you lot.” Timothy indicated everyone in the room but Jenney, the Brotherhood was too militant for her hippy ways.

That brought a moment of shocked silence “That’s pretty cold brother, we are all in this together. Why would you suddenly separate yourself?”

“Don’t give me that hurt look Regi, I am not cutting you loose. I don’t mind helping you out when the situation requires it, but you are stepping on to a path that I have zero interest in. You are starting an empire. You might not see it like that right now, but I do. It’s obnoxious enough to be involved in the running of Runehold, I have no interest in helping you to administer anything larger.”

…

…

…

“How did my socially oblivious child pick up on that before the rest of us?” Joe rubbed his forehead, smiling wryly.

“Hey! Just because I am not interested, it doesn’t mean I don’t notice. Just save this conversation for a private Brotherhood meeting later. I have a much more important report to listen to.”

“More important than the forming of an empire?” A bewildered Arthur managed to get out.

“Of course, that's politics and inherently corrupt and boring. This is about magic. It clearly trumps.”

“I think naive is the kindest way to describe that sentiment Timothy.” Joe’s head rubbing had not stopped and exasperation tinged his voice.

“New world, new rules Da. Magic power is far more important than numbers. Let me introduce Markus with the results of his experiments on quantifying magic into measurable units of mana!”

As Timothy opened the trap door down to his work room, then climbed down for the second trapdoor his fathers voice followed him.

“Numbers mean more magic power for your brother Timothy, your argument is pretty weak.”

“Adding members to the Brotherhood is an act of magic, and thus important, but your arguments for and against don’t matter all that much. It’s time and an appropriate personality that will determine if they can join, not political aspirations.”

Undoing the latch he invited Markus up to the council meeting, being sure to lock the trap door behind them.

Slightly out of breath from yelling while climbing, Timothy simply waved for Markus to the start, but Joe made a quick comment first.

“We will discuss this more later Timothy, you can’t dodge it.” He sighed then smiled at Markus “Please Markus, you have our full attention. What have you discovered?”

Clearly more than a bit nervous Markus cleared his throat awkwardly and pulled out a stack of wooden plaques from a backpack before beginning, “Ahumph, ah, I have been trying to define a unit of mana and to give an idea of how many such units fit in an enchantment.”

“The definition of a unit of mana is arbitrary. So I fixed it to the cost of removing a cubic foot of essence dirt. The essence dirt part doesn’t really matter though. So far essence dirt, plain dirt, water or stone, it doesn't matter. It costs about the same amount of mana.”

“Exactly how I measured it gets tedious, but an old shovel, two feet on a side, has about 3,400 units of mana in it or roughly 400 uses, a bigger cut seems to take more mana then its size would indicate, probably a problem of distance from the rune. One interesting bit I discovered is that if I use a shovel with a specific rune it has about 6,800 mana in it. That's a rough measure but each additional rune in an enchantment doubles the mana storage. I wanted to prove that by checking a one rune enchantment, but I would need to use a material removal rune to measure it, without a direction rune I would not be able to specify how much it could remove.” Timothy blanched at even trying that idea. Randomly placed and random sized area getting pureed? No thank you! “Instead I managed to ask Gareth for a small bit of help.” He bowed his head to the bard, who waved back cheerfully in dismissal.

“It was not a difficult task and in truth I am as curious as the next man.”

“A pathfinders' senses for magic are much more precise than a guardians, as I am sure you are all aware. It’s not a precise measure but he gave me his best estimate for a one rune light enchantment. It seems to bear out the doubling theory.”

“Next I attempted to determine if the material a rune is carved into matters. It does! But in an odd way. A protection rune carved into essence stone has a larger capacity for mana, about 10% more for the first rune, then the doubling occurs with each additional rune.”

Timothy, having heard the report earlier, broke in at this point. “My best guess currently is about fit. Stone is a symbol of protection already. It’s embedded in our common histories and beliefs. Stone walls, stone castles, you get the point. The protection rune fits the concept of stone so it works more efficiently. If we can figure out what material symbolizes the intent of a rune then it will work more effectively.”

Markus nodded, hesitantly “I only found a difference so far with protection runes so it's firmly in the theory category, but it does seem reasonable.”

“Ok, that's fairly useful, how do we take advantage of it?” Arthur, ever practical, dragged the conversation back to the practical.

Timothy was ready for it “We need to make the bunker walls essence stone. The dirt was available, and it does work, but we will get considerably more mileage out of essence stone. At least in the northern bunkers, we need to make the change.”

Jenney spoke what was in everyone's head “That is a lot of work Timothy! Essence stone is heavy as hell and we are currently only getting it from surface boulders dotting the meadows. The stone below ground is already being consumed for construction.”

“True, it will take a massive amount of work, but I have a few ideas to make it safer. First, use material removal tools to turn the rocks into gravel. Small sacks of stone gravel should be easier to move around then large boulders. Second, put wood frames in front of our current wall edge and dump the gravel in the wood frames. That way we don’t compromise existing defenses while we make new ones. Join the stone together and we end up with a layer of stone on top of our existing wall, I am sure no one will complain about thicker walls.”

That got a snort of agreement from Arthur.

“Third we use the Nellie to do all this. Load gravel from the shore to the boat, anchor her in the moat and dump the gravel out. Finally we use norms to do all the carrying and dumping. Stop Jenney,” Timothy rushed two head off the incipient explosion, “this is not to belittle them, quite the opposite. The recent awakenings happened in people who were frequently going out with the foraging parties and were volunteering to help. Make sure everyone knows that and ask for volunteers.”

Jenney glared at him but didn't argue. The magic word ‘volunteers’ neatly sidestepped her scruples. Forcing people to work was WRONG! But getting them to volunteer in exchange for status? That was somehow ok. Timothy really wondered what went on inside her head sometimes. The little bit he did understand did help enormously. He just had to hide the applied force a bit and she was ok with it.

Regi scratched his chin in thought “The Nellie will already fit in the moat just fine. If we rig up a wooden chute we could pour the gravel out pretty safely… Ya, we can do it.”

Markus diffedently raised his hand “One last thing, I noticed that older enchantments that have been used heavily seem to be less stable. I am not sure when, but I think they will wear out eventually.”

That bombshell exploded into silence, a sentiment that mirrored Timothy’s own feeling when he heard it earlier that day. Having time to think about it he wasn’t sure he was unhappy with it. It did return some control to him.

“It seems to be directly opposite the mana case though. The more runes in the enchantment, the more unstable it has become. I think complexity breaks things down faster. That and the total amount of mana that has been poured through them.”

There were threads of the future in that observation. Larger more complex spells might have very limited uses. Something to keep in mind as he was fast approaching a 4 rune chain. He might be able to do so now, frankly, but if he was wrong his mind might not survive it. Better to be a bit cautious.

Forming an empire, the idea bounced around inside Timothy’s mind. He had no interest in having a hand in it… but despite his protests he didn’t have much of a choice. Sooner or later someone would create it. Human nature at work. No one could look at what they had and remain content. They always wanted more. Even Timothy felt this way. He just aimed his ambition and magic at learning, not domination.

Yet he could not ignore it entirely. It was much like the governance of Runehold, he hated being a part of it, but if he wasn’t, sooner or later that governance would interfere with his life. Governance was inevitable, the only question was whether a man would be among the rulers or the ruled.

So how could he maintain a position of being in charge without being weighed down by trivial bureaucratic bullshit? The only answer he had come up with after weeks of thought was family. If it was his family that controlled it, and he helped them do so then he could get a veto of sorts. Even without being constantly involved in the rulership process.

He would have to make that trip down to Paradise for the baths. Symbols were important after all. Perhaps in time Runehold baths would dot the known world like the Roman baths had before them. There were worse symbols of an expanding polity than community and cleanliness.

Timothy sighed as he considered his newest enchantment. It wasn’t a new idea, merely beefing up the range on an old one. An empire took more than two towns after all. His new people detector should cover twenty miles and it had been charging all day. Since he already had a detector for up to around ten miles, his new detector had dials for the range, currently set from ten to twenty miles.

Timothy grimaced, the reminder of roman baths had brought up another silly reflection of humanities ever present need to over complicate their lives. There were 5280 feet to a English mile. Why? Because when the British adopted it they didn’t want to give up on their furlongs. Eight furlongs equals 5280 feet, while the Roman mile was a nice even 5000 feet.

He did not have oodles of speedometers or other tools already stuck on this old standard. He didn’t have any furlongs measured anywhere. Why would he keep an overcomplicated system? 5000 and 10000 feet were the exact settings on his dials, and for all future miles he would use the original Roman mile.

Some people, cough Gareth, had asked why he didn’t just use meters. Because he didn't have a meter stick. He did have a pair of feet. Feet were simple and they worked. Enough, he was ready to take a look around.

It had charged all day and he would keep the activation very brief. A bit of thought had given him the most likely locations of other settlements. The sample size was small but both known settlements were on the river. They needed access to drinkable water so that made sense. They were also around ten miles apart. If he tracked up river and up the branch rivers that fed the swamp he might find more settlements.

An overhead max length view had given Timothy a brief outline of the rivers in the area. From that high up it wasn’t useful for anything smaller than a river or mountain, but it did give him an idea of where to check. One major river and three tributaries collided in the swamp, with Runehold being on the main river.

His detector was a disk with a hollow in the center, placed on a peg with smoothe wood beneath it. Ignoring the swamp for a minute he activated and swept his detector up river to the east. The crows went nuts, jackpot. Deactivating the detector, he quickly used his pen-is-mightier to mark the direction on the wood below the detector. Drawing a line with that heading on his map he crossed the river at three separate locations. The second one was around eleven miles up river. He hoped that was the correct spot. If he could prove the pattern then finding other settlements would be so much easier.

Adjusting the detector to a much narrower band at 5500 to 6500 he activated it very briefly, again the crows called! Timothy smiled as he marked the settlement on his outlined map. Next! It took a bit of finagaling but he found one more settlement where he expected it to be. Up one of the branch rivers to the north of the swamp. The other two expected locations did not return results.

Bothered by this Timothy spent a bit of time sighting in the scrying pool on all four locations. He didn’t have enough mana in the pool to do more than look them over, but it was enough.

More than enough.

The south east branch river from the swamp had nothing visible that Timothy could see from a decent overhead view. The south west branch was a different story. The crumbled remains of a wall and homes stood out even from on high. Moving the pool’s view closer revealed large numbers of bleached white bones clustered around a crumbled breach in the cobbled together stone and wood outer wall.

Human bones.

It was not a safe world, Timothy knew this. Being forced to witness the results was something else. Harsh as the beast waves had been, they survived.

Obviously not everyone did.

Everyone had a chance… the Proctor had promised that. Not everyone made good on that bet. How much of humanity survived? Parceled out in penny packets how many settlements were waved under in the last six plus months?

Timothy blew out a tired sigh. This was not going to be a fun council meeting, not at all.