Fluid - 42

The crew’s map is a stone plate whose enchantment has it take on the likeness of the landscape for the surrounding two kilometres. Across the map, a range of clay markers indicates the positions of watch posts, twelve crawlers, and mining equipment.

“Might I extend your map to show the elementals?”

“Artificer?” mutters Delwar.

Holding out a cupped hand, a cube of soft light appears above my palm, carefully kept at the brightness of the phosphorescent glow from about the cavern. “No, it won’t be permanent; just a temporary illusion I can hold while you’re planning,” I advise before combining a couple of spells from Illusionary Ways to expand the cube into what Sarah would call a holo tank. Once done, I set it down across their map.

A glowing copy of the map now sits thirty centimetres above the table, making up the top of the cube. Spread out through the cube are different coloured elementals, categorised for their strengths. While a few are moving, the rest are resting in a few zones, perhaps following ley lines within the Plane.

Delwar jabs a finger between elementals, gingerly avoiding touching the cube. “Why are some dark and others like undercooked pork?”

I point at a group of them near the geyser. “Those are the strongest—over level ninety; the lighter the red, the weaker the elemental.”

Palnix had stayed seated after our introductions, murmuring a Blessing to Moradin under his breath, and I didn’t say a thing when he started upright. The suddenness of his motion has Onalar grabbing for her hammer, but she halts when he fixes his attention on me.

“She’s telling the truth about what she knows,” Palnix says, though his suspicious gaze doesn’t shift from me. “What magic do you use?”

“Among other classes, I’m a Wizard, and I’ve got the Earth Affinity,” I reply truthfully, keeping to what he’ll recognise to avoid dragging things out. “I don’t know your preferred tactics, but I can lure the elementals up and block them from moving through sections of rock. What else would help?”

Nanoĸ starts and gives a confused grunt.

The noise has Delwar looking at me again. “You’re friend expecting you to give orders?

Rolling my eyes, I spread my hands helplessly. “He doesn’t know me as well as he thinks. It’s your show. I’m just along to assist.”

“What else can you do?”

“Lots of things, but I don’t know your tactics and don’t want to cause disruptions. I also don’t want to steal everyone’s combat experience. Me wiping out elementals by myself isn’t the purpose of this trip.”

“Best you didn’t do that. I’ve got soldiers and miners alike looking forward to the upcoming fight,” declares Delwar. “Then what is your purpose here?”

“Helping two communities. Yours by protecting the mines, and ours by helping Priestess Irene gain levels.”

While explaining, I motion to Irene, and she fidgets when the three dwarves stare her way.

Eyeing the symbol on Irene’s shield, Palnix gives Delwar a nod. “Hestia’s symbol; Human Goddess of households and security.”

Delwar snorts. “Odd community to have, elves and humans.”

Giving the gruff dwarf a grin deepens his stare. “The oddity is certainly my doing. Malach and I are guests, but I want to ensure the community continues to grow.”

“You sure you can bring them up?” asks Delwar.

Giving a sharp nod, I wave my hand over the map. “Easy as landing a big fish; just tell me where, when, and how many.”

“We’ll rearrange the crawlers first,” Delwar says, and he gives a hand sign to the other two.

The trio split up atop the crawler, signalling others with piercing whistles and hand signs. The twelve crawlers quickly arrange themselves in a twin horn formation with Delwar’s crawler at the midpoint. As the crawlers halt, the previously sleeping dwarves within them spill out, forming a skirmish line along the formation’s inner edge. Those dwarves formerly mining move to join them, collecting shields and changing out of their mining gear into full armour.

I’ve already updated the illusion, and Delwar points to a spot between the tips of the horns.

“How many do you want, and should I alter the earth under us? I can ensure they can’t rise through the rock beneath your crew.”

Palnix tugs at the seam of his gloves, ensuring they’re tight. “Three of the strongest, so the crawler’s weaponry can dish out a solid amount of damage before the fighting is too close. As for the ground, the priests normally take care of that, but you’re welcome to add to the protections.”

Irene motions to a dim globe hanging off the side of a crawler. “Would blessings involving flames be alright to use? All your lights are dim.”

“Things will get bright when the fighting begins; you’re not the only Priest that likes to use fire. Many of Moradin’s faithful enjoy employing the forge’s flames,” explains Palnix.

I gesture to the ground before the crawler and give the others a reassuring grin. “Let’s hop down, and we can start things off.”

We’re at ground level when Nanoĸ gives in to his curiosity. “How are you going to stop them coming up?”

“Oh, a frivolous question! Magic, of course,” I quip; with his lack of arcane training, I don’t want to explain elemental aversions right before a fight, nor reward a question whose answer gains him nothing and could make the dwarves nervous.

A theme sets a hair-thin layer in place that, when approached from beneath, is a twisted dimensional gulf. The dimensional twist makes it a gap effectively hundreds of metres across. The layer sits a half metre below the surface and runs from before the skirmish line to the cavern wall. While it wouldn’t have stopped an Air Elemental from crossing, an Earth Elemental has no hope of making it.

Turning back to Delwar. “On three, okay?”

“I’ll call it as soon as all crews confirm,” responds Delwar.

That saves my strength since it gives me time to let a crescendo build instead of quickly yanking them to the surface. Around us I can hear priests laying blessings of protection and strength. Irene’s first Blessing adds blue flames to our weapons, and the second toughens our skin.

When he finally signals, I teleport the three largest into the open despite their resistance. Surprised, they flail about momentarily, their essence objecting to being exposed to the open air. They all look like massive rock piles—the top of the largest over six metres high—a trio of monoliths against us and slightly over two hundred and fifty dwarves.

Though they recover quickly, the thrum of small ballistae from atop the crawlers, accompanied by intoned blessings, get in first. A half score of the magical bursts of flame softens rock so that sprays of semi-molten stones fly away from their forms when the metallic bolts—the length of my arm—hit. As they surge towards us in a rumbling wave, the dwarven crossbows launch nearly a hundred bolts, each with an enchanted quarrel head the size of my fist. The heavy crossbows are set aside even before the result of the bolts show—the enchantments on their quarrels send cracks deep through the elementals’ essence.

The death knell of the weakest pair sends an energy pulse through the rock, and more elementals rush towards the site of its death.

“Forty plus moving.”

My report brings a grunt from Delwar, and I do something elementally naughty. A sustained blade of air feeds off the dust clouds loosened from the biggest Elemental and scours the rock apart. A flung stone hurtles my way in response, and Nanoĸ steps into its path, his shield angled upwards to deflect it away.

As it continues its rush, the Elemental looks like a looming wave of rock. One massive arm tears a large boulder free from the ground, only to come apart under concentrated assaults from the crawler’s weaponry. Its destruction reinforces the energy pulsing in the ground. The approaching horde increases its pace towards the surface while adjusting course towards the last Elemental’s death site.

Behind the wave drawn by their departure, more drift upwards until the first death energy hits them. It galvanises their motions, and they join the charge upwards.

“Incoming has doubled.”

The dwarves rear ranks reload crossbows. Steel-capped boots jam into the stirrups at the front, and the winches blur under the pressure of powerful hands. Some among the front rank crouch and lay their weapons down, moving with practised motions to pull orbs from their pouches. A squeeze of the seals has the potions within mixing, while the rear rank aim over the top of them.

The ground erupts in a spray of dirt and rock, and the rear rank firing blindly into the mess. A barked order sees the first dozen orbs following, the death knells caused by the acidic grenades are echoed out to the second horde and hundreds of elementals further out surge our way. The newcomers rise through the still bubbling pools of acid, etching stone.

As more come to the surface the wavefront hits the skirmish lines and Nanoĸ and Mallach join the fray. Mallach slips from strikes, lashing out against the limbs that come close. Nanoĸ is less delicate, taking the elementals head on. Enchanted axe against rocky hide, he gouges away at their essence while they batter him with bone-breaking collisions. His metal shield deflecting blows from stone fists has sparks filling the air, but, despite its enchantments, his chain hauberk lets far too much force through.

Irene continues to intone blessings of flame and Celestial might while I stick to unleashing spells and songs of lightning that cut hard into the increasing numbers. The near opposition of its nature—positive energy plus air—shatters through the increasing number of elementals’ health. Their very nature lets the magical force ground into them and disrupts their essence. Our successes continue to reinforce the call summoning more to the fray.

As the battle rolls on, more elementals reach the surface, and the outer edge of the protections I’d set becomes a churning mess of stone. Elementals find their way around it and surface to clamber atop it, only to be broken and forced back. Brutal exchanges of stony fists meet with shields, axes, and swords. It's like a beach’s edge and the elementals crash like a churning surf trying to drag the combatants under.

From the edge of the battle line a fist the size of my torso erupts, stretching out towards me. I’m already spinning out of its path when Nanoĸ set himself in its way. Rock screeching against metal sends sparks spraying from his shield, and the battered metal breaks. He’s cast aside but his obstruction blunts the initial strike, and Mallach’s attack takes the Elemental apart. Flinging the pieces free from his broken arm Nanoĸ still shifts his axe into a double grip, and amidst the battle rush he ignores the injury. The pace of his assault not slacking in the least; despite having traded reach for greater force.

As the crew’s fatigue and injuries grow, I switch from damaging spells to focusing on my singing. Splitting my silent song dozens of ways, tendrils of regenerative energy lay traces through the ranks, providing a continual recovery boost to wash injuries away. Fractures and ruptured flesh pull together, allowing those on their feet to continue fighting at a breakneck pace.

I slip to the rear rank and, no longer lashing out with oppositional energies, elementals don’t come hunting me. Before the fighting is done, the energy helps keep a few souls within their flesh and gets them breathing again.

When the sound of grinding rocks ceases, laboured breathing for a time is the only sound up and down the line. My silent serenade hasten the troops’ recovery, healing wounds big and small. It’s been taking a toll on me, but with it all that’s keeping some on their feet or alive, I keep singing despite the battle’s end.

Having had two classes at level one, Irene is buzzing with fresh potential. Though she’s levelled two evolved classes quickly, they’re built on a prior foundation, and their combined sound has grown from a sturdy base.

“Any more coming this way?” grunts Delwar.

Shaking my head, I lean against the nearest crawler’s side. “No, the last death knells are fading, and nothing is in range of them.”

“Perk up, Elf; the fighting is over. I noticed you took a knee early.”

“I’m still working, lots of wounds to tend; I’ll let you hear it,” I counter and stop silently empowering some songs. Hundreds of notes spill from my lips, challenging my vocal cords to keep pace. I keep going until those whose souls threaten to escape damaged flesh are fully secure.

“What was that singing?”

Nanoĸ chimes up before I can even clear my throat. “Gail’s magic uses song; sometimes you can hear it, other times you can’t. She’s not explained why ‌we can hear it sometimes and not others.”

Wrinkling my nose at his question, carefully not worded as a question, I speak up. “Purely situational. Singing aloud takes less energy, but with too many songs at once, it’s a distinct challenge. However, I’ll not risk drowning out orders or calls for help in battle.”

Palnix sweeps up a piece of Nanoĸ’s broken shield and hands it to him. “The fighting was over.”

“Those songs were tending to the wounded, sustaining a regenerative effect,” I state, not bothering to get into the details. “Are you planning to return to mining, Crew Leader Delwar?”

“We’ll need to sort out the materials from the elementals and assess supplies. That horde used a lot of grenades, and we’ll have weapons and armour that needs refitting,” replies Delwar, and he nods to the shield piece in Nanoĸ’s hand. “I’ll give you a chit to see about getting that replaced.”

“I was going to upgrade more of the team’s gear soon,” I comment, and Nanoĸ nods.

Tapping the piece’s edge against a nearby boulder, Nanoĸ shrugs. “Where do you want to start the salvage pile?”

“I can pull the metal and gems from the Elemental debris into an empty wagon,” I offer.

“We’ll need to clear out the rocks as well so the crawlers can manoeuvre,” says Delwar.

“Point out a wagon and give me a few minutes; I’ll deal with the salvage and the rocks.”

Delwar points at the closest one. Soon enough, I’ve got the piles of stone smoothing out the cavern floor while nuggets of iron, silver, gold, mithril, and not a few gems, sit within the wagon.

The clean-up takes the crew longer than a few minutes but, with my part over quickly, I sit atop a crawler. Irene is helping to tend to the walking wounded. Happily, Mallach is managing a friendly chat with a few fellows he’d fought beside, discussing the comparative quality of beers, wines, and spirits while helping in the cleanup. Nanoĸ seems to be focused on prying folks loose of bent armour and gathering gear.

That chore apparently puts a burr in the bear’s fur.

“When we get back to the village, I’d like to ask you some questions,” says Nanoĸ, his deep-set gaze not quite glowering at me. With an underhand toss, he sends a dented and blood-coated helm into the back of a wagon. The extent of the damage isn’t a surprise to me—some dwarves came closer to dying than others.

“Meep!”

“Meep?” mutters Nanoĸ, the scowl fading as quickly as it had appeared.

“You’ve got angry eyes going on, hence the meep, grumpy bear,” I explain with a smile.

His scowl slips completely into confusion, and he returns to helping those cleaning up.

Watching him stalk away, Palnix stomps over to stand next to me and mutters quietly as a dwarf can get. “What else did your song do besides regenerate folk?”

“Your Soul doesn’t immediately leave your body upon death. With enough magic, the Soul can guide the restoration of flesh, and it becomes anchored again,” I say, and despite my casual tone, I know that knowledge is something not everyone takes for granted. “I’m sure, given your seniority, that you know blessings that, if cast quickly, can restore the dead to life without the loss of levels that Raise Dead or Resurrection causes.”

“I know of three, one of them I can cast, but it needs me to start the chant right after they’ve been felled,” agrees Palnix.

“The songs did the same things as those blessings for some. I had the regenerative energy running through the ranks; those who took substantial injuries drew more power from the song.”

Palnix hums. “Why didn’t you say you’d saved lives earlier?”

Looking up at him, I shrug. “I had no intention of mentioning it, but you asked your question, and I gave you the truth.”

“Who are you, Gailneth?” mutters Palnix.

His suspicious tone sets me giggling. Two grumpy, suspicious bears in one day. “I’m handy to have around or very annoying; for some people, it seems to be both.”

Palnix holds out a steel plate with familiar enchantments entwined within. “I’ll get your details and register your contribution credits with the expedition office when we return.”

Retrieving my ward stone, I wave it against his plate’s surface. “That’s fair. We’ll be heading home directly from here.”

He heads off to talk to the rest of the team.

When everything is taken care of, and the three of them have recovered, I gather them up and open a Gate. The sky overhead has become thick with dark clouds since we left, and the Gate shows more storm clouds sweeping in from the ocean.

Leading the way through, I look up at Nanoĸ after I close the Gate.

“You’ve figured out all the questions you want to ask?” I ask. “Are you sure now? Really sure?”

Nanoĸ scowls at my bright tone, making me grin wider. “I believe so, but I’m sure you’ll be unpredictable enough that I’ll will have more.”

“I guess the question is: do you want to keep the answers to yourself, or should we get together with the others so you can all have the answers at once?” I ask.

“We are a team,” said Nanoĸ matter-of-factly, as if he considered the answer obvious.

Waving towards town, I smile. “Phile and Androkles are at Lerina’s Temple; the others are at the Guildhall. I’ll be at Zosime’s shortly. Did you want the fast way or a walk?”

“A walk won’t hurt me, even with the storm incoming. After fighting in that cavern, I could use the wind on my face,” states Irene.

Looking at the gathering storm clouds again, I motion Mallach towards Sanctuary. “It’s not likely they’re back, but let’s check if the others have returned.”

“Thank you for letting me accompany you; I found the dwarves interesting to talk with,” replies Mallach.

“I noticed you didn’t mention you were Andúnë after the fighting,” I comment.

“Without the crests in my clothing, they seemed to assume I was from a different world,” admits Mallach. “I’m interested to hear what Litthor learns. Hopefully, he doesn’t let his unbending attitude make a mess.”

After his open and friendly conversation with the dwarves, I opt to take a chance. “Your society seems too rigid and focused on who gets the credit.”

“The old nobility is indeed that way. You either play the game their way, or you’re left out in the cold,” comments Mallach.

After parting ways with the others at Sanctuary’s entry, I venture a question. “How did your family get noble rank? I doubt it’s easy to move upwards.”

“Our alliance members all purchased our titles in the last three generations, which was only possible through vacancies in various lesser councils. The rules state there have to be thirty houses present for a council quorum, so they had to find families to fill the spots. We all determined we were allowed on the councils purely for the rule’s sake, and we sought allies to change that situation.”

The explanation draws a snort from me as I remember a saying from Sarah’s movie nights. “Those with the gold make the rules.”

“Indeed,” agrees Mallach.

Neither Litthor nor Ellother have returned, and Sarah is also away. With our early start, it hasn’t yet hit noon.

Creating a small storage ring, I slip in a stack of meals and pass it to Mallach with a wink. “Lunch for you and the others if they show.”

“That looks better than what I get while on a caravan; I’ll see the others fed if they show for lunch.”

“Why couldn’t all the delegations have been as sensible as the merchant’s alliance?”

When he gives a pleased smirk, I laugh and bid him farewell before teleporting to Zosime’s courtyard. I barely have a chance to check the pantry for options to prepare lunch when Zosime calls out. “That you, Gail?”

“Yep, do you want something warm for lunch? I thought I’d cook something up before the storm broke.”

“No need to go to any bother; you’ve spoiled me quite a bit. I normally only eat twice a day,” replies Zosime. “Why don’t you come through and talk?”

Since I still have plenty of stored meals, I head to the front, listening to the dancing beat of Zosime’s loom.

“I wasn’t sure when you’d be by again. What brings you here today?”

“Nanoĸ wants to ask a bunch of questions, so I thought it best to address them to the team as a whole to avoid confusion,” I explain.

Zosime pauses her work in surprise. “You’re letting him ask you questions? He was very brusque with you when he practically forced his way onto your team.”

“He’s got good intentions about Nikias and Myrto, so I can understand his concerns if not his manners,” I explain.

“More accepting of him than others have been about you, and you’ve been far politer than I’ve heard him address you,” huffs Zosime, her tone sharp.

“You’re not a fan of Nanoĸ?”

“Nikias says he’s a great teacher, but I’ve no reason to be impressed by him,” replies Zosime. “Seems he likes to give orders and judge instead of appreciating what’s done for him.”

“Well, I’ll see what questions he asks; I didn’t promise to answer everything.”

“Good. Some things men should just keep their noses out of,” declares Zosime. “How is that horde of elves in your tower?”

“There are only four of them left at present, and two of those are currently visiting a dwarven settlement.”

“I heard one visited the Guildhall today and posted a variety of jobs,” Zosime offers.

“Hopefully he was polite about it. Aside from Ellother, I’m honestly nervous they’ll make a mess of things despite their small numbers,” I admit.

“It’s not like you’re responsible for them,” replies Zosime, but she winces and continues ruefully. “Though some people can drop every species member in one basket.”

There are barely a few raindrops before the sky opens, dropping a deluge like someone upended a bucket.

“Thank goodness. Hopefully, the farms’ irrigation ditches fill properly,” remarks Zosime, and she returns to her weaving. “Could you close the shutters? I don’t need the wind blowing rain onto the cloth I’m working on.”

Setting a light to hover near the ceiling, I do just that. Is it weird that being asked to handle a mundane chore makes me feel good?