Riloth the 19th the 95th

“I can’t wait to hear what kept you.”

I startled awake at Dagmar’s voice—and smell.

For the first time in what felt like months, though I’d long since lost track of the days, I woke in the same place I’d fallen asleep.

Did she skip bathing out of spite?

Choosing to ignore her until my head was on right, I got out of bed and retrieved the stolen potions from the desk.

“I don’t think we are the only ones aware of these resets,” I answered, now clear-headed and awake.

Dagmar’s furrowed brow rose from a scowl to curiosity. “Well, that's news. What happened?”

By way of answering, I asked, “Did I ever tell you that I suspected you of setting rats loose on the Parlor?”

“Rats?” she asked, curiosity turned to confusion.

“Shortly before we met,” I paused at the word. “I’d encountered a swarm of pack rats inside the Parlor kitchen, terrorizing the staff. At first, I thought you had set them loose on the kitchen, and later I assumed you had done something to unintentionally disrupt their regular behavior. But now they are behaving erratically, despite us both keeping a consistent schedule. Twice in the last few weeks I have encountered them in the Parlor at different times.”

“Hmm. So you think these rats are somehow aware of the Etney?”

“That or a variation of my original theory. There could be someone in the Torack below the town disrupting them and sending them to the surface.”

Dagmar shook her head at that idea.

“No, I don’t think it’s that. In my explorations, I found that all the tunnels below this town have collapsed. I even left the Kituh and went deeper into the Torack to confirm. There are no tunnels below this town large enough for even gnomes. It seemed deliberate, but I couldn’t say for certain.”

“So you’re suggesting the rats are aware of the resets?” I asked.

“I don’t know, you’re the one who likes to endlessly speculate. I’m just telling you that there’s no way for someone to get beneath this town unless they dug straight up from the depths.”

So it’s just the rats? Why would pack rats be aware of the reset? Could pack rats be Hardune members? No, that's dumb. But maybe—no, I won’t ask Dagmar that. I will need to research magical creatures; I don’t know enough to speculate. Well... I don't know enough to speculate fruitfully.

Maybe Dagmar's right.

She interrupted my thoughts, “So, that doesn’t explain why you couldn’t make it to the Dahn last night. I spent two hours looking for the damned door in the stones cursed Fauell you call a forest.”

“Have you ever fought a swarm of pack rats with some noble fops?”

When she didn’t seem impressed or appeased, I continued, “It’s very difficult, I nearly died.”

She was unimpressed by my recounting of the fight but agreed to scout out the dining-bath area with me to see if they were still present.

“Let’s go find your big scary monsters,” Dagmar said with a grin.

She’ll see.

The Parlor’s patrons shot us dirty looks as I escorted the filthy dwarf through the halls. We passed my portly brother-in-arms from the day before, and I had to stop myself from giving him a warm greeting.

"Fops" isn’t fair, they fought bravely. Most of the time at least.

I’d never seen Tilavo in the Parlor this early in the morning, so I took us to the dining hall via the gaming floor. At six in the morning, the floor was sparsely populated by a few weary gamblers—those present looked to have been here since the day before. The look of hopeless desperation on their faces was difficult to bear.

In the dining room, the staff flitted about setting up the meal in advance of the morning rush. A quick search turned up no rats in the kitchen or the hall.

I urged Dagmar on. “They came from the baths. Let’s check there.”

The hall from the dining hall to the baths led to the locker room and the servant’s passage that I usually took. Outside the door, we stood at the ready. I drew my sword, and seeing that Dagmar had no weapon, elected to lend it to her. My magic would be more than sufficient if the rats were present.

I Conjured my dagger to hand, to which Dagmar gave an appreciative whistle, “Nice move.”

She then signaled a countdown with her free hand before I could comment on her apparent compliment.

After one, Dagmar kicked the door open wide—destroying the jam and ripping it off of its hinges. It landed with a crash and the destruction revealed the locker room, fully stocked with white fluffy towels and robes, but free of rats.

I gestured to the next door, and we repeated our breach. This time the door flew off the hinges and steam billowed out of the opening, limiting visibility to only a few paces. I cast Gale, drawing air from the hallway clearing the steam and revealing a writhing swarm of rats.

“Found them!”

At my words, the swarm—which had been watching us—broke into a frenzy of duplication. Some duplicates appeared on wild trajectories through the air just as before. Unlike before though, they didn’t wait to begin their attack and charged with a yet unseen aggression. Each rat ran straight for me when they appeared. Dagmar stood between me and the swarm, but they parted around her as if she were a piece of furniture. They emitted a frenzied chatter that I felt was directed at me.

I cast Vortex. Without that spell I wouldn’t consider seeking these monsters out. The rats rushing at me halted at the tell-tale howl of the spell.

So they do remember.

One brave—or stupid—rat leaped at me anyway and was tossed into the bath with a satisfying splash. I expected the rats to flee as they had the today before, but instead they turned on Dagmar. They scurried up her short legs, and it only took a moment for them to completely cover her. They tore into her flesh with a ferocity that seemed driven by hate. Dagmar's screams broke over the sound of chittering and rending flesh. Despite the pain, she swung at them blindly with my sword—but to no avail.

“Get these Torc damned vermin off of me!” she screamed over the mad chatter of the rats.

I tried to get close and bring Vortex to bear, but her desperate flailing of my sword kept me at bay.

Hmm, I wonder...

I held out my hand and attempted to Conjure my sword out of hers and into my grip. I couldn’t summon items as large as a sword typically, but I couldn’t cast cantrips while casting spells before yesterday either. The spell found the sword as easily as any other small item on my person, despite its size and the increased distance. The weapon disappeared from Dagmar’s frantic hand and reappeared in my own.

It looks like I have some more things to test out.

I closed in on the dwarf, and the wind cleared the rats with poor holds. Those that were thrown elected to flee, skittering across the baths and escaping into a drain.

Dozens still remained on her body, but I could now see the extent of the damage they had wrought. Her skin was coated in blood that oozed from hundreds of cuts. I swung at the rats whenever I had a clear attack, but Dagmar’s attempts to slay them hindered my own. My first strike took a slice out of her shoulder along with the rat.

“Hold still!” I shouted as I cast a Lightning Bolt at her.

Unfortunately, the Vortex dropped when I cast the spell. It seemed my ability to cast while concentrating was still limited to cantrips.

The lightning cracked and echoed through the baths as it arced from my hand to Dagmar’s torso. She fell to the ground in a twitching heap, and the rats fell with her. Many disappeared, but those that remained were in no condition to flee.

Once I had taken care of the ones that remained, I ran to the locker room to get towels before approaching Dagmar to administer aid.

Where do I start? She’s more wound than dwarf.

Ineffectually, I tried to stop the bleeding by wrapping her limbs, but the towels quickly became saturated, and the blood kept coming.

She whispered something, but I couldn’t make it out.

“What was that?” I asked, putting my ear near her mouth.

With my ear close, she whispered faintly, “Just kill me,” before losing consciousness, saving me the decision.

I sat there next to her as she bled out, unsure of my feelings.

This is pretty morbid. On one hand, the irony here is delicious; on the other, I am watching a woman die. At least she won’t make fun of me tomorrow about the rats.

When Dagmar finally stopped breathing, I looked up from her body to see a horrified Simon standing in the empty doorway, holding a stack of laundered towels.

“Perfect, I needed clean towels,” I told him, forcing a jovial tone. “Do you think you could find someone to take care of this? I need to clean up.”

The disgust faded on Simon’s face, settling to sullen acceptance, “Of course Master Theral. This is not the first body that has turned up on the premises. I will call for the grave keeper.”

He placed the towels down and turned to leave with shoulders slumped. I called after him, “If you see any rats, make sure to run.”

The pool was filthy. Rats, blood, and offal floated on the surface and the water held a red tint. I looked down and saw that I too was covered in Dagmar’s blood. The baths were fed by pipes set into the wall, and I cleaned up by wetting some towels in the fresh water. I threw my ruined clothes into the dirty towel hamper and strode out into the Parlor clad only in a bathrobe.

I really need to learn Clean.

I took the servant’s passage and passed through the kitchen, stealing some pastries before heading to my room for a change of clothes.

I have a whole day before me that won’t end with my horrible death. What should I do?

“Theral, what got you out of bed this early? Are you alright? Is that a bathrobe?” Daulf’s voice broke me out of my contemplation.

He stood at the front desk, having been speaking to Kine.

Flood, I forgot I’d never been here at this time. Did Daulf always ask this many questions?

“Uh, good morning Daulf. I actually am still up from last night. I’m off to bed. Goodnight—er—have a good day.” I kept walking, but Daulf kept talking.

“I guess that means we are staying another day. Good. I could use another day to settle the school curriculum and organize some more refugee caravans to Edgewater. Time really flies when there's so much to do."

"Yeah, it's like we've hardly been here any time at all,” I said dryly.

Twenty minutes later, I was back in the lobby, now dressed in my spare set of clothes. Simon was nowhere to be seen, so I left the note for Trish with Kine.

"I'm going to spend the day in the library, please have meals sent over. Starting with breakfast."

I flipped her a gold coin, unsure if the request was even allowed.

Whether it was a normal request or the coin I don't know, but she answered, "Of course Mage Theral. We'll get right on it."

"Oh, and please don't let Simon help. I don't think he's my biggest fan this today."

It took her a moment to parse what I said, but she gave an uncertain nod and said, "Of course, as you wish. Happy studies!"

In the library, Jarreth greeted me as usual, “Welcome back Mage Theral, what arcane wonders can I help you solve today?

“‘Morning Jare, I need books on magical creatures. What do you got?”

His wrinkled face broke out in a wide smile at the nickname, and he let out a chuckle. “Wow, I haven’t heard that name since my adventuring days. Let’s see what we have.”

Adventuring days!? I will need to follow up on that. Stay on task. One mystery at a time.

He came back with a single book, a tome that looked to be bound in wood. It was quite thick—nearly six inches—but the paper was wafer thin.

An elven book. This is a rare treat.

I flipped back to the cover and read the title—surprisingly in Rilith—Lidian's Manual to Magical Fauna 38th Ed.

“We are quite lucky to have this. The 38th edition was first published this year, and we just got our copy. I believe—apart from myself of course—that you are the first to read this copy. As I’m sure you know, Lidian Oakcrest is the leading authority on magical creatures. She has been studying them since before the Flood after all.”

I had heard of Lidian of course, but I’d never found a copy in Rilith. I could read Waasian, but the elves filled their language with so many adjectives and adverbs that it made it all hard to follow. As they say, “An elf will say in a hundred words what a human will say in a dozen—and a dwarf will say in a grunt.” I may have added that last part.

There was not enough time to read this book cover to cover—though I was tempted to.

Stay on task. You might have eternity to read this book.

The book was a collection of entries of Lidian's observations and theories about magical creatures. Much like Deckard's, it began with a general overview of the topic.

Magical creatures come in many forms and arose on Kaltis through a variety of means. A magical creature—for the purposes of this manual—is any living creature that innately draws upon a Font to wield magic, or was created through the use of magic. Through decades of pestering from my contemporaries, I have finally relented to their arguments to expand my definition to include the animals created by the gods near the end of their time on Kaltis. As such, the creatures I had formally categorized as beasts are now included.

My revised classifications are primal creatures, which gained access to a Font through prolonged generational proximity to a Primordial; formed creatures, which were created by sapients through magical means; and magical beasts, which were created by the gods near the end of the Age of Wonders.

None of that information was new to me, and I was fairly certain the pack rats were primals. I flipped to the introductory section on primal creatures.

Primal creatures are often found in proximity to Primordial manifestations of the Fonts in our realm. Prolonged generational proximity to these wells of power grants creatures the ability to innately tap into the power of the Font. Once the connection to the Font is made, the creature can leave the Primordials proximity and maintain their connection to the Font. The connection can also pass down to their offspring, but this varies on a species to species basis.

The first primal creatures encountered by men on Kaltis were discovered during the Age of Wonders. At the time, they were not classified as anything other than magical creatures. The extensive research and exploration of the Midlothian Empire discovered and classified the primal subset of magical creatures while studying stable Primordials in their conquered lands. At the discovery, the Empire forcibly relocated villages to these Primordials to observe the effects on sapient beings, but the Empire fell before the experiment could yield fruit.

Primal creatures typically exhibit one to three distinct manifestations of the Font's power. The key identifying feature of a primal creature from a formed creature or magical beast is that it is identical in appearance to a mundane animal, and exhibits magic that could be ascribed to a single Font.

Again, there was nothing new here—besides another unknown atrocity of the Empire. I looked up pack rats in the index next, praising Riloth that this copy was in Rilith. If it hadn't been I'd never have known the Waasian name for the creature. The chapter on pack rats was very brief.

Pack Rats are primal creatures. They live in swarms alongside their non-magical cousins and are indistinguishable from them. Though I have not performed the test, based on previous primal breeding programs, it is expected that cross-breeding with mundane rats would result in non-magical rats that could produce primal offspring if bred with primal rats.

Pack rats are able to create duplicates of themselves and have some form of limited teleportation or realm shifting.

The Font from which they draw their power is unknown, as is their geographic origin. Pack rats were known to the native pre-Flood orc denizens of Basin, but were not present outside the pre-Flood mountain bowl. They are now reported worldwide, having infiltrated the sailing fleets of the world.

I put the books down to think over what I read.

That wasn't particularly enlightening. If I had to guess, I'd say their awareness of the resets is tied to their Font, but what do duplication and teleportation have to do with this temporal anomaly? Could they somehow be falsely identified as Hardune by the mechanism of the resets? That seems less likely. Maybe they are pacted with some other entity with reset awareness? No, well, maybe, but again unlikely from their behavior.

So, Dagmar theorized that these resets might be caused by the Avatar’s prison, but she also said that the Avatar’s power is fueling the containment. I don’t know much about runes yet, but it seems like turning fire into time travel would be a bit of a stretch. So then what is it containing? The Font of Time seems like the obvious answer. If I was trying to contain the Primordial of Time, capturing it in time seems necessary. Time seems like a safe guess. But could it really be Time?

Alright let’s assume it is and extrapolate, If this phenomenon is from the Primordial of Time’s prison, then the pack rats could be immune if they were primals of time. How would that let them duplicate or teleport? I wish I had Spellbook. I always do, but now it would be useful to relive those memories.

Could they be summoning rats from the past or future to aid them in combat? No, that seems complicated. Unless they could also teleport, but I’ve never heard of dual primals. Where are they disappearing to if they aren’t teleporting?

Hmm.

Could that work?

I spent some time doodling lines with backtracking arrows on some paper.

I think that might work. If the rats survive a fight and travel back in time to the start of the fight, it would look like they teleported away at the end to flee, but in reality, they went to the start for round two. They could also travel to the future to escape if the fight seems lost.

Wait, so if that fits, does that mean this is caused by the Primordial of Time? No, it only suggests that the security mechanism is tied to it. So, I have a theory, finally. It’s built on a lot of guesses and assumptions—and rodents—but it fits. As my father would say, it is a flying castle theory. It’s very strong once you look past the foundation. But fortunately for me, we live in a world with at least one flying castle, so I'm going to hold out some hope.