BECMI Chapter 201 – Asides for Adventure!

Duum soon popped up outside, to first alarm and then delight, receiving many compliments on his hat and monocle, and even offering some of the very eager children rides above and around the town.Soon enough there were illusionary fireworks and dramatizations of everything we’d met on our travels, exaggerated villains, and everybody was enthusiastic to hear of the valiant Sir Horn and his efforts on the western end of the Lumlriz Forest.

“-and we gave the horses of the fanatics to Sir Horn, who was happy to get some well-trained mounts for his men,” I finished narrating to Mayor Shaemla Everylnii, a distant cousin of Brittabelle’s and a known adventurer in her own right, settled down for a few decades and building a mercantile business of her own with elven wares shipped to Franklin. She had silver hair and dancing blue eyes, and a lively personality suitable for charming human merchants out of their gold or playing politician with a light touch and eyes that saw more than people thought.

It went without saying that the Church of Siricil wouldn’t be too happy about that, but what was one to do? Especially once he paid a ‘good price’ for such fine steeds.

Shaemla poured me another draught of fine claermist, a sparkling cloudy elven wine that would send most other races into an energized drunken loop rather quickly… especially dwarves. “Well, Sir Horn is not a friend to the Siricilans, especially if they get in his way. Thank you for telling me this, but happily there is no Church of the Siricilans in Corillinian, and none important until you get to Franklin itself, where it caters to the army and the aristocracy.” She smirked at me slightly. “My cousin was right to point out that you tend to confront problems head-on, and aren’t afraid of stirring up consequences, Lady Edge.”

“It is one of my many failings,” I agreed with a straight face. “Gleefully seized upon by a number of individuals and taken advantage of, to rather dire consequences for them.”

“Would… you and your ‘fellow students’ be willing to take care of a few mounting problems for us?” Shaemla asked leadingly.

I put a hand to my forehead. “Hark, I hear the siren call of adventure beckoning the young and over-enthusiastic folk behind me, and naturally I shall have to oversee them as the only Healer they have available…” I said in a slightly aggrieved monotone, which only raised tinkling laughter from her. If it delayed our trip a few days, what of it?

Messime had no feeling for Halcyon magic, aspiring Dracomancer that she was, so, yes, I was the only Healer in the group, although Nico could whip up some Potions with a fair amount of speed if needed, courtesy of his Alchemist training.

Still, some Healing was better than none at all.

This was indeed a lovely little town with cheerful people, and the surrounding villages it supported promised to be much the same. It was giving the more thoughtful of my Zanzyran natives a thoughtful view of how nice the world and life could be if wizards contributed to raising the floor instead of chasing the ever-rising ceiling, beyond the bounds of Erendyl and Zanzyr. Naturally they’d be eager to pitch in and show the locals the positive power of Zanzyran magic and mages!

That elves were the ones to institute such measures had to weigh on the prouder among them, too. Sir Horn’s accomplishments with the Construct Tractors had been raved over by Hammel and Nico in particular, both of them looking out over the well-tilled fields about Horn Keep with ideas dancing in their eyes. Seeing the casual magical lightning and embellishments typically only found in Zanzyran cities in what was a smaller town and rural communities, evidence of hundreds of years of minor magical use contributing towards a common goal, was definitely enough to get them thoughtful about what mages could achieve together, as opposed to individually.

It was a lesson the elves knew well, but the national mentality of Zanzyr encouraged individualism and self-expression, not harmony and cooperation, a fact reflected all too well in the nobles who ruled the place.

“Sir Horn is well-read in on the problems on the western end of the country, from the hill tribes of nifloids to the depredations of the Black Wolf Marquis and his Iron Chain slavers.”

Her eyes narrowed sharply. “He has proof that the Black Wolf is behind the Iron Chain?” she asked quickly.

“Sir Horn’s agents have seen agents of the Iron Chain meeting with those of the Black Wolf on both land and sea, receiving reports and giving orders, as well as accepting and dispensing gold for their operations. Iron Chain slavers have happily worked with the nifloid tribes to gain more prisoners to sell off as slaves, to the point that basically every tribe in the west has at least two sets of slaver chains among their tribal supplies, and Siricilan coins among their plunder.”

“They are operating in this area, too,” the elfin mayor said quietly, her voice dark. “It goes without saying that elven women, particularly young ones, are among their most very prized targets.”

I gave her a cool look in return. “And they, in turn, are finding that elven trackers are much, much better than the human patrols they’ve paid off and are adept at losing in the forest?”

Her smile was knowing and sharp, nodding slightly. “And very, very willing to pursue the takers of their kin over the borders and into the cities to get them back, too. Hence the price for elven slaves rising to such a high price. It has been built up on the backs of slaver blood!” she stated with satisfaction.

“So… they are preying on the humans who dwell in the surrounding communities instead, working up the courage to attempt taking an elf?” I murmured knowingly.

Shaemla looked resigned, yet still offended that they were so active. “The local humans don’t have nearly the woodcraft required to deal with such people, or rather, those that do have it tend to go elsewhere seeking adventure, and not engage in routine patrols and wanderings through boringly safe territories like this.”

I just nodded. “Not understanding that regular patrols even in the most peaceable areas keep them peaceful.” I inclined my head slightly. “Did word reach you from Erendyl of the Hounds initiative we are undertaking? Sir Horn makes use of it. If you will agree to a not to speak of it to others unless granted permission, I will happily go into more details on it. The is to ensure you do not accidentally let something slip that would spoil the efficiency of the program.”

“This sounds interesting. I will happily do so, if you will agree to investigate what is going on about Thistlemoor and the other areas.”

“I can do one better. I can wield Halcyon Magic.” Her eyes immediately went wide in awe and desire. “We have found it cannot be learned outside an elven homeland or a high magic area, and I’m afraid this land and its forests do not qualify, save perhaps in some secret delves or glades doubtless dominated and held jealously by the Fey. I do strongly encourage you to learn it, and that, along with Elven Wizardry, can be taught you in merely a year or so if you were to engage in proper violent and irresponsibly reckless behavior smiting down the foes of elves and all good folk with vim and vigor at the same time.”

“Only a year?” Such was nothing for an elf, like asking them to study for a weekend, if their mind was set to it. “I would have to find out someone willing to undertake my duties for that period of time, but that sounds like a wonderful opportunity!” she admitted quickly.

“And it will strengthen you greatly,” I informed her calmly. “If you can reach Nine and can form a Lived-Line trail there, it is possible that you could Teleport swiftly and easily all the way to and from Erendyl at will, or any place in between! I think you can see how useful that might be for mercantile endeavors.”

Her expression narrowed shrewdly. “That would indeed be extremely useful…”

“Halcyon Magic is very personal, but the ability to wield Druidic spells as Arcane is very potent, even if every spell you would learn must be researched individually. For instance, a can reveal many, many things about the surrounding territory that a skilled ruler should know…”

Shaemla leaned forwards with great interest on her features. “I think I should receive that now, before you go much further…” she offered quickly.

“Indeed. And do you have a private cellar we might retire to? I have something I can show you that might be of great interest…”

Great interest, indeed.

Shaemla stared at the hovering , a hovering image twenty feet in diameter, semitransparent and taking up the entire central floor of the cellar of her home… which had thoughtfully been doubled in all its dimensions and was now bigger than the living area upstairs.

It depicted the land for fifty miles in every direction from here. The land, and so, so many things of grave interest upon it.

It was a ‘snapshot’, a picture of a moment in time, like a painting. As far as living creatures went, it would rapidly become outdated as such moved around, new beings were born and others died.

Floating off to one side was a vertical list of symbols and colors, their meanings. Things like sapient creatures per square mile (areas thoughtfully broken up by the map to display such), which type of creatures were present by hues and shades and streaks, where monsters lurked, places of magic, undead, the empty lines of cities and towns not living in harmony with nature, settled versus wild areas, the amount of magic present, the natural resources in fish, game, plant life, and minerals of all sorts, many of them completely unknown even to the elves, including at least two Fey glades that had somehow completely avoided elven knowledge for centuries.

Cave systems extending underneath the land, their tops barely inhabited by random nifloids, and… things dwelling down there, and mineral wealth, waiting to be tapped.

The value of this illusion was literally priceless.

She’d been assured she could update it with her own magic easily enough, although she likely could not reach anywhere near the range, at least for now. She would have to research the spell herself, as Halcyon Magic was built upon a very personal link with the land, and perusing another’s interpretation of Druidic spells would be only useful as a research aide, she couldn’t simply copy it over and adjust it like she could Arcane magic.

Human camps where none should be, including among the lizard men tribes of the lakes and swamps to the east.

Nifloids slowly infiltrating here and there.

A dragon building strength in the central forest. An ogre camp further west. Hill giants along the fringes north of them. Monstrous beasts in the rivers, having evaded hunters for who knew how long, who had no idea they were even there. Fey spirits staking out territories and either redirecting passers-by away, confusing them, or outright killing them as was their nature at the time.

Secrets the elves spoke about to nobody, such as the homes of nymphs and dryads, the location of their Lumina Tree, the existence of a single weirwood tree deep in the forest, shone to life with a wave of her hand and a Cantrip wrought just so, vanishing the instant her concentration slackened.

With just a Cantrip, she could zoom in on any trail or glade for more details in the past, look at the terrain, anything needed.

The finest map imaginable, a picture of the Land around Corillinian.

The same turned the image off, leaving no sign that it was there at all.

Shaemla sighed, knowing she could be engrossed for hours in the mysteries this image could show to her.

She definitely needed to upgrade her skills and learn Halcyon Magic for herself!