The Newt and Demon

Shafts of sunlight broke through Theo’s window, but that wasn’t the reason he woke from the Dreamwalk. Emerging from that ethereal realm was more like stepping from one room to the other, only to appear in his comfortable bed. Tresk scampered off to the lab before he had time to say anything, but he just laid there. Even with the increasingly oppressive heat of Fire barreling toward them, he enjoyed the warmth of his sheets.

A strange sense of tension was building in his body. Theo placed his hand on the egg to find some comfort, resulting in excitement building in his chest. The [Tara’hek Core] was edging closer to level 20 by the moment. Thanks to the Dreamwalk, his other cores weren’t slouching either. But today would give way to a blur of alchemy and administrative duties he wasn’t sure he was ready for. At least the egg was there.

“Breakfast!” Tresk shouted, entering the room and glowering. “I require breakfast!”

Theo sipped his tea and ate his leftovers in Xam’s tavern. Khahar found a different table, isolated from the townsfolk to take his breakfast. The more the leader of the Khahari spent time in the town, the more he seemed like a fixture. But even the admission of the man himself painted that as a facade. He was here for a short time, bound for some heavenly realm no one seemed to know a thing about. There was just something strangely familiar about Khahar that lingered on Theo’s tongue. He couldn’t wash away the sense no matter how hard he tried.

Work cut those thoughts short. Theo had a sense that Fenian would arrive any day, which would require him to have a selection of [Hallow Ground] style potions ready for the man. The Elf expected the potions for free, and would offer another mushroom cave for 50 gold. What the alchemist was truly interested in was more plants for the farm. Something from the Elven continent would be nice, adding an even more exotic flare to Broken Tusk. The trader was smart enough to bring a selection of plants, wasn’t he?

Fenian’s anti-undead arsenal was based around two styles of potion. Drinkable, and throwable. The [Hallow Ground Bomb] targeted only undead, but dealt scaling damage. Scaling damage likely meant a percentage of damage based on the creature’s maximum health. [Hallow Ground Potion] with the [Aerosolize] modifier would create an amazing zone of denial for any approaching undead, and the one with [Web] sent strands of banishing power to the nearest 20 targets. Theo didn’t want to think about the horrors of the [Embolden] one. The other variations were good, but he wanted to make Fenian pick which ones he wanted.

“Maybe I’ll make the Elf squirm,” Theo said, staring in the distance.

“Fenian?” Tresk asked, wiping her broad mouth clear with her sleeve.

“Yeah, he should be in town soon,” Theo said. That sense in the back of his mind pulsed.

“He’s coming from Gardreth,” Khahar said, suddenly at their table. The Khahari leader had a pensive look on his face. “I expect he’ll be here in the morning.”

“That’s where he got our Pozwa from,” Theo said.

“More exciting news,” Tresk said, bouncing in her chair. “We’re going to hit 20 in the Tara’hek today.”

Khahari smiled. “Of the futures I see, the most likely outcome will be interesting.”

“How cryptic,” Theo said, chuckling. “No spoilers.”

The more time Khahar spent in Broken Tusk, the more uncomfortable Theo was getting. Not because he wasn’t a good man, or good company. It was the idea that he was running from something no one could see. A responsibility to his people he was abandoning. Another responsibility to leave the mortal realm. What kind of impact was his presence having on the world, if any?

“This world is built on a foundation of destruction and growth,” Khahar said. He couldn’t read people’s minds directly. He just saw the future. No big deal. “From the first Shattering, to Balkor’s Betrayal, we’ve seen it. Those who read the signs know.”

“That another is coming,” Theo said with a shrug, finishing Khahar’s thought.

“Karasan knows as much,” Khahar said.

“King of Qavell,” Tresk said, sensing Theo’s confusion. He’d never heard the name of his king.

Theo shook his head, waving away a bubbling thought. “Why go to war with Veosta if he knows disaster is coming?”

Khahar considered the question for a long moment. His eyes always went glassy when he was looking elsewhere, into the future, or whatever else he could do. Eventually, his brow furrowed.

“I don’t know.”

Maybe he didn’t know, or maybe he was hiding something. The passing match Khahar had with the Burning Eye and Drogramath was proof enough that the gods were up to something. Even more concerning that a deity from the Prime Pantheon, the Demonic Pantheon, and an aspirant were talking as though they knew each other. To save himself from being read by Khahar, Theo kept that to himself. There was something between them.

Khahar, the Burning Eye, Uz’Xulven, Tworgnoth… I wonder who else is involved, Theo asked. Tresk shrugged.

No opinion.

You must have an opinion.

Nope.

“How long are you sticking around for Khahar?” Theo asked.

“As long as I can get away with,” Khahar said. “My people already set members of the clergy sailing, but they won’t be here for a while. We’re not known for our sea-faring abilities.”

“Not that you have to worry about it. Mister teleport,” Tresk snorted.

“It’s not teleporting… Not exactly,” Khahar said. “My movement is more like bending the rules. Reach my level, and you can tell the system where you want to be.”

“Sounds like cheating,” Tresk said, narrowing her eyes. “No one likes cheaters.”

“Yeah, but maybe… Khahar, can you cheat for me?” Theo asked.

“No cheating, Theo!” Tresk shouted, gaining the attention of the other patrons.

“A small cheat,” Theo said. “We already have a guy who can teleport all over the world, but I never asked him to bring crops for our farm. I want some exotic stuff. Maybe a staple crop from each major civilization.”

“Do you know how many major civilizations there are?” Khahar asked, smiling.

“No.”

“Then you haven’t earned a cheat,” Khahar said. “I’ll tell you what my picks would be, if I had your resources when I started. From Tarantham, I would pick [Ansatari Wheat]. From Iaredin? Zee. You already have that. I’d select [Bulb Blobs] from Slagrot—the Ogres are terrible at naming things. [Khahari Cacti] from my home. [Fairy Apples] from Partopour, and absolutely nothing from Bantein. Those people wouldn’t know food if it bit them in the ass.”

Theo had heard of, or seen, something about Slagrot in the past. But Partopour and Bantein were completely new to him. Other civilizations, resting in places of the world too distant to matter to him, had never graced his ears. But Fenian could get them for him, even if there was a massive problem. Those plants grew in certain climates. A problem for another day. The alchemist would focus on cultivating the Zee to produce even more food.

“Well, I appreciate the suggestions.”

Theo finished his breakfast and bid farewell to Tresk and Khahar. His first stop was to check on the progress of his golems. They were burning through his [Mana Constructs] at an unsustainable rate, but there were always more [Manashrooms]. The alchemist patted the egg, resting near his side, and nodded to himself. The drop-off crates for the motes were packed full, and the golems had taken to just leaving them on the ground. He sorted out his greenhouses for the day, harvesting what was ready and replanting. The [Lesser Mud Golems] were still too unintelligent to handle the gardens.

Alise’s Half-Elf assistant intercepted Theo on his way to the lab.

“We haven’t been properly introduced,” she said, affecting a deep bow.

Theo bowed back. Maybe the Elves bowed a lot.

“Gwynestarea Whisperstream. Please, call me Gwyn.”

“Theo. How can I help you?”

“Alise gave me free run on the food problem,” Gwyn said.

Theo studied her for a moment. If he looked hard enough, he could see both features of the Humans and the Elves. She was as tall as a regular human, coming up to his chest, with stunted, pointed ears that weren’t quite Elven. She had a head of long, well-kept black hair with gray eyes. Like most administrators, or those that didn’t need combat armor, she wore a loose robe and boots suited for the muddy environment.

“Any ideas?” Theo asked.

“I’ve been in talks with Guildmaster Aarok about the problem,” Gwyn said. She couldn’t hide the smile on her face. “Unless the corpse of a [Marsh Wolf] is butchered within a day, it fades. Most adventurers take what they need and leave the rest to the swamp. With your approval, I want to issue an order to the adventurers.”

Theo rubbed his chin as though that was a hard request. He’d be lying to her if he said he knew the adventurers were just abandoning good meat in the swamp. That brought another problem, though. If the adventurers brought in a bunch of wolves, who would butcher them?

“I’m glad you’re taking your role seriously,” Theo said. “I wish I could say the same about your peers. How much meat are we leaving in the swamp daily?”

“Several hundred units. On the low end,” Gwyn said. “I don’t believe the town has the funds, but we need to establish an industry around the idea.”

“Any volunteers?”

“We’re in luck,” Gwyn said. “A Toora family moved in recently. The matron has a [Butcher’s Core], and she’s prepared to accept a contract for the position. Sledge agreed to lend part of her workshop—even if it’s outdoors—until we get the [Butcher’s Seed Core].”

Theo couldn’t help but grin. This was what he loved about having an administrative staff, especially if the people doing the administration were smart. The food problem cropped up, and Gwyn handled it swiftly.

“Have you sent your peers to the farm yet?” Theo asked.

“The sawmill and the mines,” Gwyn nodded. “They were oddly excited about it.”

“Good. Fenian is going to be in town later. I’ll see if he has the seed core we need. Start looking for your replacement. I want administrators who know what the hell they’re doing. We’ll review your contract at the end of the season,” Theo said.

Gwyn looked slightly offended. “You’re not planning on firing me, are you? After I fixed the problem so swiftly?”

“The opposite. I’ll grant you the Lady Administrator title at season’s end if you keep it up,” Theo said. That brightened her up. “I want you to watch Alise and make sure she doesn’t slip up again. There’s too much crap to do, and I don’t want more crap falling through the cracks. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Gwyn said, straightening her back. She looked so proud.

“Find more people like you. Do you already have an [Administrator’s Core]?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Perfect. Who is managing the farm project?”

“That would be me.”

“Excellent…” Theo said, trailing off. Gwyn’s eyes snapped to the east. A sound like an explosion echoed through the town, followed by the thunder of otherworldly hooves. “Fenian is here.”

With thoughts of exotic plants and a well-run chain of food production in his head, Theo made his way to the town square. The clattering team of demonic Karatan made their way over the eastern road, wreaths of black-purple energy coming off the lead beast in waves. Galflower always seemed like the most willful of the team, and Fenian had said as much. That was about it for information the Elf would give up about the Uz’Xulven-aligned things.

Fenian dismounted his carriage train, now trailing three carts behind the lead one. They were all in the same style of lacquered black materials, almost featureless when compared to the lead car. The Elf was anything but featureless, wearing his trademark ruffles and flourishes that would put a king to shame. He pulled Theo into a tight hug before the alchemist could object.

“Always a pleasure to see you,” Fenian said.

“Let’s discuss things in my office,” Theo said, gesturing to the town hall.

“Naturally.”

Theo didn’t really have an office in the town hall. There was a room that he used, when he needed to, but he’d never lay claim to it. Until Broken Tusk built competent support staff, that building would remain to be used for functional purposes. They couldn’t spare the [Monster Cores] to upgrade it, and didn’t have competent staff to make it worth it. The office gave a decent view of the city below, affording them the sights of the western wall, and the swamp beyond. The alchemist fell into a chair at the head of the table. Fenian took the opposing seat, all the way on the other end.

“How is the project going?” Fenian asked, setting a small black cube on the table and activating it.

“What project?” Theo asked, snorting a laugh. “The town, the god roaming around my streets, or your mushrooms?”

“All of them?” Fenian said, flashing a roguish smile.

Theo set out single examples of the [Hallow Ground] potions he’d come up with. He didn’t see the need to answer the other questions. Fenian inspected them all, satisfied with each. “How many have you produced?”

“The samples,” Theo said, gesturing to the table. “I can have 500 to 800 of whatever you need today.”

“Such a hard working alchemist. How did I get so lucky?”

Viewing the gifts that were thrown at Broken Tusk with a spiteful eye was a bad move. Theo never asked for what he got, but he never turned it down. He never looked at those that gave him these things with scorn, burying them in his heart for later revenge. The alchemist was happy to accept and exploit them every day. Fenian’s arrival in the town was no different.

“I’m suspecting a conspiracy more by the day,” Theo said. “I also have an assortment of other potions, if you want to see those.”

“Naturally.”

Fenian focused on the modified stat potions Theo had made so far. Variations of the [Healing Potion] was always welcome to the trader, and would make for good trading. Of course the Elf had a [Butcher’s Seed Core], an uncultivated [Starbristle Flax] plant, and a [Ansatari Wheat] plant to offer. The alchemist considered the food shortage problem sorted, and would dedicate several fields to the flax plant.

“Keep the wheat in your inventory until you have the means to plant it,” Fenian said. “As resourceful as I am, I haven’t been able to find a [Farm Greenhouse Expansion]. I’ve searched, though.”

“The great and powerful Fenian Feintleaf unable to find an item?” Theo asked, grinning. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Even I have my limits,” Fenian said. “So, down to the marrow of it. I’ll buy up all the [Healing Potions], and modified attribute potions. Shall we negotiate?”

Negotiation with Fenian was more about balancing the scales of money with items. Broken Tusk needed [Monster Cores] more than anything, along with a few odd things. Theo didn’t offer his [Retreat Potion], or [Potion of Limited Foresight] for trade. While he was happy to offer the wide world attribute, and restoration potions, he wasn’t comfortable doing so with the powerful potions.

They went back and forth for a while. Fenian’s stocks were shockingly low, but Theo got several hundred [Monster Cores], a [Butcher’s Seed Core], and another [Mycology Cave Seed Core] on top of 50 gold coins. The money seemed like nothing compared to mounting expenses, but it was always nice to have cash on hand.

“So,” Fenian said, concluding their business. “Khahar lives in Broken Tusk, now?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing,” Theo said. “He’ll be leaving soon.”

“Interesting,” Fenian said. “Anything interesting happen? With Rivers? Murder Passage?”

Leave it to Fenian to poke his nose in their problems. Theo explained the idea of an alliance, using Gronro-Dir as a spearhead against whatever wanted to come from the north. Their plan was in the early stages, and required the people in Rivers and Daub to get their heads out of their asses. Broken Tusk’s administrative team hadn’t even gotten in contact with Alran Cherman, the trade representative of Rivers. That twin-town could have solved their food problems, but once again they preferred to be independent.

“I always thought that anything south of Murder Passage should go their own way from the kingdom,” Fenian said, adjusting his fancy hat. Whenever Theo saw the man’s absurd hat, he realized he had one too. “I have no love for the kingdom. Mark my words, the war with Veosta will spell the end of them.”

Theo tapped his fingers on the table. His high [Wisdom] gave him intuition enough to feel between the words.

“What’s going to happen when your plan comes together?”

Fenian leaned in, a smile playing across his face.

“I never said it was my plan. Make sure you stock Gronro-Dir with these potions once the alliance is formed,” Fenian said, holding up a [Hallow Ground] potion. “I have a feeling that Balkor isn’t done with the gifts he’s given on our fine continent.”

Theo filed away the statement with the other suspicious things the Elf said. Overthrowing the kingdom seemed like a task that one man couldn’t complete. How soft had Qavell become over the past season? Or was it a matter of unseen attrition, leading to a necessary war with Veosta? The alchemist only had questions and feared the answers the trader would give. He was missing a piece of the puzzle.

Caution was important, but Theo had to work on Fenian’s [Hallow Ground] order. He concluded his business in the town hall, watching as others filed in after he left. Citizens of Broken Tusk often took advantage of the trader’s large stock and excellent prices.

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