A deal worth making

They are cleaning out the ritual chamber. That is everybody except for Hildegard, who is standing watch at the entrance, and hugely pregnant Branislava, who is sitting on a chair next to the control table Marental used to activate the magical barrier, just in case. „These cables are unusually light“ remarks Zewrepa. „Some dwarven stuff especially good for soul stuff“ Anjali explains. „We should store them separately. This stuff burns like hell. My grandfather once lost a piece that way. He was really angry for weeks after that. Given the cost I understand him now.“. „Mithril?“ asks Zewrepa in clarification. „No. Mithril is good for structural reinforcement and motion stuff. And it does not burn like that. Mithril chain mail would be no good if it did. Not good for soul stuff. If you couldn’t get the specialized stuff, you’d probably use silver. It’s much cheaper and would work better.“ Anjali responds. „Then why platinum for the head band?“ continues Zewrepa. „Probably because you need to add a sophisticated piece of intent control. But that is speculation. I had only the basic lessons in enchantment theory.“ answers Anjali in a clear attempt to push the conversation onto another topic.

Helena is left with the task of wiping away oddly shaped splotches of charcoal. She is fine with that. Or rather she understands that somebody has got to do it. Taking apart magical machinery with incredibly valuable parts is not her favorite task. It involves too great a chance of breaking important stuff. It means that she is faster to finish. She proceeds to clean out the closets and chests. „Please leave the unusual liquids alone where they are. The position may have a hidden meaning. I am going to get Marental’s key ring for the locked closet.“ Zewrepa says to her.

I am wiggling to get back into my mail and plate armor. Usually this is not much of a problem, if you put the front of the armor towards your front and not the other way round. Gravity does the job for you. You just close a few hooks at your throat and lash the leg, well upper leg, pieces, which don’t cover the insides of your legs together. My shelter is not big enough to stand up. Of course I could remove it, but then I would stand more or less naked on a snowy, windy mountain top during Fimbulwinter. I trust my warmth spell, but that does not sound good, especially as I would have to secure my stuffed outer garment, lest it be blown away. I feel like a seal in a narrow cage. I want my gravity back. I stop. My flight power reduces gravity. Can I redirect it?

Shall I try? Something is nagging at the back of my brain. The water! Well, I can also make genuine drinking straws. If I can do this, it would be great. Somehow this feels more fundamental. Anyway. I fall sideways and am showered with hay.

Anjali sees Helena unlock the closet, while packing away the last component of the machine they were connected to. At first she does not notice the woman freezing up and staring into the open closet. Her cousin raises her voice to call out to her. She has to repeat the call. Anjali closes in and asks „What is frightening you?“ She has to wait for an answer. It comes in a whisper „The spikes. They hammered them in. With their little wooden hammers. They shook. For hours.“ She dashes away.

I dare not just climb to get the ocean into view. Hence I follow the valleys. The first sign is nevertheless in the sky. I see smoke.

It is a relatively large complex of houses. One of them, the largest, is still smouldering. Outside the common wall, which serves as lower part of an outer wall for each of the buildings, somebody has put the bodies of four dead goblins on display. A few dead cows add a surrealistic rural tinge to the carnage. I am in a shelter, just the other way round and am using my mage sight to replace binoculars. I see nobody. Yet I doubt goblins would display their fallen like that. This points to the presumably human occupants of the outpost having fought off the goblins. That need not mean that they are still present though. They might have since left with the surviving cattle, not knowing whether the goblins would come back with reinforcements. I don’t see tracks, but that is meaningless. It snowed last night. I think this is a cheese making outpost surprised by the early onset of winter.

If it is deserted, I will loot it. But what if it is not deserted? They may have surplus cheese they might sell. Or they might not. If I landed there among them, they would certainly tell a tale of a wizard buying food. Do I want that? I don’t know. I have no idea whom they would report to. There is the worst case scenario that they would report to Marental and he’d not be amused that people he wanted to starve to death or die from thirst in his cave have gotten out. I arm myself. I make a spear with a piercing warhead made from antler and put the destruction spell on its edges. Then I approach from the side that looks to feature the least windows.

Zewrepa is talking to Anjali „Have you found out why she has secluded herself?“ Anjali sighs and makes a complex gesture involving her hands and her head „Not from herself, but from her cousin. Apparently Marental sacrificed most of their village to charge these spikes with mana.“ Zewrepa uses her fists to stroke both her ears in an alien gesture „I will sing of their slaughter. But we need to think of a way to use these spikes. They are too valuable.“ Anjali nods.