Vignette - Dire hippo

The dire hippo is the true master of the swamp. They have been known to snap a hovercroc’s spine with a blunt toothed bite. The average specimen, if average can be used to describe these water titans, is something like thirty feet from nose to tail and a bit under fifteen from the bottom of their feet to their shoulders. An average weight would be between ten and fifteen tons. While they are herbivores they remain extremely dangerous due to their bellicose personality. Like their old world relatives they are extremely territorial. They spend most of their life partially submerged in shallow waters but can climb out for food or when provoked.

What magic talent they have is somewhat unclear. They are fast enough to catch hovercrocs in flight and have been known to shrug off blows that would fell trees. None of that explains how they accomplish these feats.

They have no observed predators as adults. But they are mammals and their young have been known to suffer from predation. It has been humorously suggested that they are a Dragons emergency food source.

-Species Tablets at Runehold

Chapter 28

“A question Timothy. Could you have found these sites earlier?” Jenney’s voice sounded guilty rather than accusatory, not that Timothy was going to tolerate either end of the blame train.

“Don’t go there Jennifer. I am not responsible for the world and refuse to let you feel guilty for something completely out of your control or my control. ”

“Could you have Timothy? Could we have saved these people?” The guilt was joined with a more than usual dose of stubbornness.

“Sure… I just would have to give up on sleeping. Enough Jenney! The priorities we set were based on keeping our people healthy and sane, what could we have cut back on?”

“We could have --“ Angry now, the volume on her voice was steadily rising

“ENOUGH!” Patty sighed, “Hindsight doesn’t help anyone Jenney, we did not look till now. No amount of ‘what ifs’ will bring those people back to life. Instead we should focus on contacting the other two towns.”

“We can do that,” Arthur gratefully joined the changed subject, his distaste for the previous one poorly hidden, “the same process as with Paradise, pick one of the two then we observe it thoroughly for danger, map a safe route, then sail a contact team to them. It will take time, something like a week each.”

“So upstream or through the swamp? Personally I hate that swamp so I vote upstream.” Regi responded.

“As the rest of you please, doesn’t matter to me. I do want you to do something for me though. We need some names. The river doesn’t work so well when we have all these branches of the river coming in. They all need names.”

“And I suppose you want to step in and fix THIS problem too? Maybe name it after yourself while you are at it?”

“What the hell Jenney, did I kick your pig this morning? Why are you pissed at me?”

“People are dead and you are the only one who might have been able to prevent it! But you chose not to! And now you are talking about names instead? Where is your guilt? Where is your heart?”

“...In case you haven’t noticed Humans are now endangered on this planet. Whether distant people live or die is not up to me. I am not God!”

“You're out of line Jenney,” Papa Joe stepped into the fray, “you want to believe that everyone can be saved, a noble belief if it inspires you to try. But it’s not practical here, we don’t have the power or numbers to be everywhere. If you want to stay sane you are going to have to let it go, Jenney. I love you but you can’t keep doing this! We are barely the masters of our own town, we can’t protect the world. Please drop it.”

“I can’t Pa, all those lives…” She choked back a sob “They matter! I can’t just pretend that their lives had no value because they are far away, didn’t we learn better than that in the old world? Starving children in Africa are still starving children! We have an obligation to save them!” Her tearful glare migrated to Arthur.

Arthur turned his head away, red faced and almost visibly biting his tongue. Regi, exasperated, took pity on the military commander and distracted Jenney “That was bull shit then as much as it’s bull shit now.” Jenney’s glare shifted to him, as intended, “Despite all the good samaritans could do, people still starved and died. Wars still happened, famines still happened and African warlords frequently stole the donated food before it got to those children. We have never been able to stop all the bad shit from happening! Never Jenney! All we have ever been able to do is lend a small helping hand where and as we can!”

Timothy quickly interrupted Jenney’s no doubt virulent response “Let me know what you decide!” As he bolted down the ladder, shutting the trap door behind him.

He wasn’t running precisely, he told himself, just avoiding an hour of pointless debate. Logic seemed to take a back seat when compassion began to drive. Or was it self righteousness? Either way it always seemed to boil down to wishful thinking. That somehow basic math should work differently if it involved human life. He had seen plenty of evidence of that in the old world, he did not need to be reminded of it in the new.

He had many better things to do, like use the outhouse!

He really didn’t want to do it, but he might need to start working on growing and healing enchantments. This most recent outburst was a symptom, not the disease. Jenney was not adapting to the new world. She was daily more and more angry that the world insisted on disagreeing with her basic life philosophy. She was being forced to see that pacifism and working with nature was not enough for survival. Even that all people were not equally valuable to society simply because they were people.

Immediate survival had to trump wishful thinking in any rational being. Unfortunately Jenney was doing a bang up job of being irrational.

With a burst of effort he tore his mind away from the morass that was his sister. He had work to do, as always! He was about ready to condense the linking rune for the map table. Once that was done, he would start seeding the surroundings with runed stones. Stones that were a match for the linking rune in the real world, just scaled appropriately. An extremely tiny rune on the map table would need to be huge in the real world.

He would need to increase the size of his tower to fit the damn table as it was. The current table was a rectangle that followed the river downstream and through a small portion of the swamp to paradise. Almost ten miles of distance but only a bit over two in width, reduced to a table that was twenty feet long and four feet wide. They had to split it into 2 tables of 10 by 4 to fit it in the scrying room.

So, first he drew up plans for a tower expansion. Essence stone was a must considering the new knowledge about protection runes. To make that easier he would use a material removal enchantment to move gravel from the Nellie up to the top of the bunker. Then a condenser to form the loose fill gravel into appropriately shaped walls. It would still take a good bit of work.

But then, he had considerable coinage stored up at this point from the rent of various enchantments and this would be an excellent way to introduce a chunk of it back into the populace!

“Rap, Rap” The trap door to the bunker resounded, drawing Timothy’s attention away from the usual busy work, an essence light storage card.

“Just a couple minutes,” He carefully finished the card, mindful of the backlash that a lack of focus could cause.

“Alright, finished, come on up.” Regi’s head soon popped through the opening, carefully climbing through with one hand, a covered basket in the other.

“Brother, I come bearing gifts!”

“I see that, so what do you want?”

“Timothy! I am hurt, can’t a loving brother simply make a gift of some scrumptious morsels without having an ulterior motive?”

“Uhuh.” Timothy raised an eyebrow and waited.

“Fair enough, but this time you already paid for most of it.” Regi removed the cover cloth and began to set out a bottle of distinctly fluorescent blue berry-aid, a wooden bowl containing, once its lid was removed, day old pulled pork, another folded cloth was unfolded to reveal a block of creamy white substance…

“Is that cheese! Where the hell did you get that?” The texture was soft but with a noticeable grain that the cheese split cleanly along. One such string of cheese was quickly placed inside Timothy’s mouth.

“Damn, I missed that!” The cheese was not even close to the best of its kind he had ever tasted, but absence makes the heart fond. “What is it made from? We don’t exactly have cows or sheep around.”

“Domesticated Pig milk from Paradise. Apparently pigs were nearly impossible to milk in the old world due to having so many small teats and being generally intolerant of people pulling on them. The size increase and magic taming fixed those issues. Apparently two older gentlemen started the cheese making business together, one French and one Italian. They fight like cats and dogs, but every cheese they produce is better than the last.”

“Call me a fervent fan then. Take some of my money and buy a bunch on the next trip.”

“Funny you should mention that. So far the batch sizes have been very small. Just enough to offer rewards to Paradisians who go above and beyond. After some inquiries they decided on this line to bait you out of Runehold.”

“So you are saying this first taste was free?” Timothy sourly responded...around another piece of cheese.

“Pretty much. It worked didn’t it?”

“Bastard, setting up your own brother like that.”

“It’s an excuse and we both know it. If you didn’t want to help, no amount of cheese could convince you otherwise. I deeply appreciate the help, Timothy.”

“Don’t mention it… Seriously, don’t. I still don’t want to be involved in the day to day governance. But my help is worth an occasional veto on matters that interfere with me.”

“If that's what it costs for your support, it’s a cheap price. Speaking of price, take a look at this.”

Regi handed over a small essence stone coin and a similar sized, but much thinner, coin of copper. Essence dirt was the bottom layer of currency, essence stone was worth ten of the dirt (working for dirt had become a very popular joke recently). The metal coin was new to Timothy. Flipping it around he could see a small but recognizable image of Paradise painted onto the metal.

“They would like for this to be an accepted currency between both our towns. Since we have already figured out the method for mass producing counterfeit resistant coins they would like our help to make it.”

“You realize ‘counterfeit resistant’ is only because I choose to limit the tools I hand out right? Sooner or later someone will have a spell that cuts as fine as I do.”

“And you haven't already thought up a counter for when they do?”

“Sure, but all of the counters would mean I have to personally make the coins. That's a tedious job I would prefer to avoid. What did you decide to call them anyway?”

“Not me, we put it to the vote. They decided on calling them coins. No reason to overcomplicate it. Dirt coins, stone coins and now metal coins. The Paradisian’s made some noise about naming the coin after them… but everything they thought up sounded stupid, even to them. A coin of paradise… seriously.”

“I take it metal is worth more than stone?”

“Ya, so far it’s only copper, but we could have other metals in the future.”

“I still need to make an essence of the metal. It will make it that much harder for strangers to counterfeit.”

Regi waved it away, a bit more metal for a coin very few could presently afford. He took a bite of the pork, clearly hesitating.

Timothy sighed, “Jenney?”

“Haaaa, ya. What are we going to do? She is deeply unhappy and it's not getting better.”

“Seems that way.”

“I have tried to talk to her, James has, ma and da as well. Even Merry tried. The only one who hasn’t is you.”

“If I tried it would just make it worse. I am ‘The Man’, her eternal enemy in the old world, and fast becoming the same in the new.” Timothy glumly looked at the chunk of pork in his hands, suddenly not hungry anymore.

“So what are YOU going to do?”

“Dammit Regi, if I knew the answer to that question I would have done it already!”

“The perfect is the enemy of the good. Doesn’t matter if you have THE answer, just talk to her.”

“It’s not a matter of THE answer Regi, I have no answer at all! I said that already. You want to solve a magical problem? I’m your man, but people are not problems I can fix! Not unless the fixing involves six feet of earth!”

“...Just try once please, I am not sure you could make it any worse, even if you tried.”

Timothy promptly knocked on the wooden side table. “Was it necessary to tempt fate like that?” He turned away as Regi climbed down through the hatch, tears he had refused to show his brother now trickling across his face.

A day had gone by and TImothy was no closer to an answer than before. The first floor expansion for his workroom was finished, but the second floor map room expansion was still under construction. The new construction had turned his circular tower into a rectangular room above the eastern bunker and two wings following the shape of the connecting passages to the next bunker.

The rectangular space was a welcome expansion for the map room above, but not terribly needed for Timothy’s workroom. Instead he turned it into 3 separate rooms. The first was his old workroom in the center, the south room was a proto school room for new magicians while the northern room was an empty ritual room. As yet he had no spells that required the room, but he had ideas.

“RAP, RAP” Ideas that would have to wait. “Come on up.”

James' head popped through the hatch quickly followed by the rest of him, surprising Timothy greatly. His younger brother had been avoiding him for months.

“James! Welcome, please come sit down, I am sure I have something to drink lying around.” Timothy quickly walked over to a clean table and checked his sealed food box. Thankfully Regi’s recent visit had supplied him with some alcohol. He pulled the newer bottle out. It was room temperature and vibrantly blue. He quickly poured two mugs full.

“Please sit, try a bit of this, brand new batch and it's a good one! I have not had a chance to talk to you in quite a while!”

“...Who’s fault is that?”

“Your’s, you have been avoiding me.” Timothy wasn’t any good at beating around the bush on his best day and he had learned long ago to avoid verbal games with his silver tongued younger brother.

“You could have come after me.” James' voice was surly but he did sit down and grab one of the mugs.

Timothy settled for a snort in answer to that.

“Enough please, I didn’t come to argue about it Timothy.”

“Fair enough, I am very glad you did regardless of your reasoning. How are you doing?”

“I am doing slowly. Months after I awakened and I just recently moved up to activating a two rune chain.” His voice betrayed a bit of bitterness, “I am useful now, I walk from room to room emptying peoples sewage for a small fee.”

Timothy sighed and waited, James knew he had been stupid, their was nothing helpful Timothy could say on the subject.

“..I know, it’s entirely my fault.” His voice took on a fake accent as he continued “I could have been a contender!” he stopped for a long drink before continuing in a normal tone. “Now I am a magical sewage worker. Enough, I didn't come here for self pity and I am not at the end of my rope. I can keep working and be someone big in the community still. It’s just going to take a while. A long while.”

He waved, as if trying to push the thoughts away for a moment, “I’m not here for that. I’m here about Jenney.”

That will teach me to make blanket statements. Timothy held in a sigh.

“Is my older brother willing to listen to a few wise words of advice? I may have fallen impossibly behind on the magic track but I am far better at reading people then you have ever been.”

“I thought you were done with self pity? Get over that bullshit and tell me! I don’t have a clue on what to do and I’m worried for her.”

“I guess I had that coming, alright I’ll drop it. You are right to worry about her. She is borderline suicidal right now. Her beliefs are hitting against reality and bouncing. So why are you sitting here playing with your runes instead of talking to her?”

“Same as I told Regi earlier, because I don’t have a clue what to say! I can’t wave a wand and make her beliefs work. I can’t assure her that she is not responsible for people dying. She is responsible, all of us are. We are in charge and people are dying to keep us all safe!”

“Well I can tell you one thing not to say, That! Regi tried to tell you and you didn’t listen. So now I am here telling you the same thing. Go. Talk. To. Her. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know what to say. Just sit and let her talk. Just make sure she knows that you love her!” James ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. “It’s not all on you. I hate to pop that big magical head but it’s not up to you to ‘fix’ her. It’s not up to any of us. It’s up to her. All any of us can do is offer a loving shoulder to lean on. A shoulder her entire family HAS been offering. A shoulder you have not for some asinine reason.”

Timothy’s shoulders slumped, When he puts it like that… My head has grown a bit too large. “Oh.”

They drank in silence for several minutes while Timothy worked it over in his mind. He couldn’t find anything to disagree with.

“Alright, I’ll just go sit with her.”

James nodded, downed the remainder of his drink and stood, heading for the exit.

“James,” Timothy hesitated, but at last asked, “why have you been avoiding me?”

James paused, hands and a foot on the ladder. “Jackass, I avoided you because of shame. Every time I see you I have to face what I did. My brothers are shining stars and I… I am not.” The batch closed behind him.

There was no point in delaying anymore then he already had. Timothy walked out of the eastern bunker and down the ramp to the garden.

This is really going to suck.

He walked carefully through the riot of colors. Dozens of large flower pots filled to overflowing with vibrant green plants and even more vibrant fruits and vegetables. A mini jungle that was not out to kill him.

He wandered the rows, searching in a lackadaisical manner. If she did not want to be found he would not find her. Instead of worrying about it he focused on enjoying the late morning sun and the peaceful serenity of the garden. Alas, all things must eventually end. She was sitting on a wicker lounge chair, large fan back on four stubby legs that held up a seat made from soft looking vine fibers stretched across the frame.

“Hello Timothy.”

“Jenney” He paused, not sure where to start and descended to the inane to cover the awkward silence. “I was starting to think I would not find you.”

“You nearly didn’t. It is MY garden.” For a moment the vegetation seemed to stretch out across the path, joining together seamlessly as Jenney, ridiculous chair and all, faded from view like a soap bubble rising too high. Then the bubble popped and everything was back in focus, Jenney was still sitting in her ridiculous chair, point made. “But after a bit I started to feel a bit petty.”

“Thank you for letting me. Do you have an extra chair by any chance?”

Now it was Jenney's turn to hesitate. At last she sighed and gestured to the back side of a planter box. A quick peek revealed a folding lawn chair, similarly constructed to her flamingo lounge with vine fibers stretched across an essence wood frame. A second, closer glance shocked timothy.

The chair was attached to a flower pot below it, the vines for the seat and back were living plants. He glanced beneath Jenney.

Yep, weird living chair there too.

He gingerly sat on the living seat. Somewhat bothered by the concept. It felt like his mother would come around the corner at any minute and scold him. Like a child, when he had accidentally crushed a bush in her garden.

“There is no need for that, if you could break that vine without magic I would have to break out the kryptonite.”

He relaxed into the surprisingly soft chair. The vines adjusted themselves to his form, taking it from a soft comfortable seat to the kind of chair a CEO would envy.

“Wow… are you selling any of these?”

She gave a decidedly unladylike snort. “Why, so you can look at it longingly while sitting in a seat made of rock? My brother, the masochist. I did not see that one coming. No, they are not for sale Timothy, certainly not when you would put them in your dark tower away from sunlight.”

He opened his mouth to dispute, he was NOT a masochist. If he enjoyed the pain and discomfort it would quite defeat the purpose. Then closed it. This was not about him, it was about Jenney. He sat back, enjoying the chair, the garden and the sun.

Several minutes went by in shades of silence. First angry, then awkward but at last companionable. Two siblings sitting back and enjoying a brief surcease from never ending work. Basking in the rays and breathing in the scents.

“I miss my old home, my friends and safe walks in the mountains.”

“I don’t miss my gardens. If I could return to the old I would, but I would miss this.” She lazily gestured to the plants around them, guilt thick in her voice.

The quiet returned for a time, finally broken by small tracks of tears and a quiet, mournful voice.

“I can’t Timothy. I can’t be a part of all this killing.”

Quiet sobs distrurbed the no longer comforting silence for a time, till they to, at last, came to a stop.

“You should go, there is a lunchtime council meeting today.”

Timothy did not move, “They can manage without me. I am quite comfortable where I am at.”

“But what about all your plotting, Brain?”

“I can try to take over the world another day, Pinky.” He smiled and than said more seriously, “Days like this are far too rare to waste.”

And so they sat, quiet and unbothered. Hidden by swirls of greenery, but not alone.