The Newt and Demon - Book 3 Chapter 69. Book 4 Chapter 1,2,3 (Patreon)

Chapter 69

Epilogue

Theo Spencer,

5th Day, Season of Fire,

873rd Year of Balkor’s Betrayal

Well, the privacy of my writings is no longer in question. No living mortal outside the bond can tread in Tero’gal. Well, just to be certain I’m writing this entry in Axpashi. Yeah, it’s a strange language with many quirks. You can’t really understand it until you understand that it’s tied to the standard language of magic. Super happy I wasted time learning it, since the language of Toru’aun is nothing like this.

Thanks, Xol’sa! Ya damn space Elf.

Elves. I got a lot of those in my life now, and I’m not sure if I care for them. Yeah, alright. I’ll calm down. This whole thing with Zagmon has me feeling spicy. Tresk worked with me to defend against regular threats, but we didn’t see that coming. How could we, though? She said the Zagmon mage was level 100. I can’t imagine what the assassin was. Well, I could. But I don’t want to. He was too damn fast. Too clever.

Well, they’re all dead now. Funny how you think you know a guy. Fenian sold himself as a simple trader, although that was clearly a lie. Turns out, he’s something called a Champion. Tresk said he’s the Champion of two gods, but I’m not sure how that works. It doesn’t matter, though. We need him as much as he needs us. Does he need us? I don’t know. He brought Elves to my town to help with the labor shortage. Beefing this small town up to be something worth talking about in the Southlands.

We’ll have boats soon enough. Maybe just fishing boats but those still count. Laedria Wavecrest is our shipwright. One of those Elves brought by Fenian. All of House Wavecrest seem like hard-working people. Well, besides those trouble-makers. But they’re dead, too!

The magic contracts I force everyone to sign are working. I’d wax on about a person’s free will, but I don’t care after being attacked. That event left no scars, but it pays to be careful. I still think the crime fits the punishment with the contracts, but testing would require someone breaking those rules. It doesn’t seem worth it, when you consider the horrible beasts that came to destroy the Wavecrest rule-breakers.

I suppose I should write more about Yuri, but I just can’t find the words. In the messed up world we left behind, we were something close to friends. He remembered that after migrating to this new world, holding on to whatever we were for an absurd amount of time. His gift comes with no strings attached, right? Sure.

I got a new skill that lets me make golems. They’re great workers, and a constant trickle of experience. I’ll take the skill that lets me deconstruct reagents when I hit level 20, which is going to be awesome. Maybe. It’s vague. My stats are leveling out. More of a generalist approach thanks to my supplementary stats from cores and skills. That was never my intention, and I won’t put more points into the other attributes. My plan is to dump things into wisdom and intelligence so I can understand these inane symbols for my new core.

Yeah, like most of Dronon magic, Toru’aun’s flavor is more like poetry than Axpashi runic magic. The book she gave me is 50 pages for just one symbol. What the hell does that even mean? Queen of Mystery. Yeah, that’s a damn good title for her. But there’s a bright side with the stuff she said. That god wants nothing to do with me! Hooray! I don’t have to sit here and worry about another one breathing down my neck.

Oh! I just had to pause my scribblings to talk to someone. A god? Said his name was Benton, which was a shock. Seemed like an Earth name to me. All the infant realms are nestled against each other, so it wasn’t as though he was a powerful god. Said he ascended at level 100, which just seems wrong. Anyway, he invited me over for a chat in his little realm but the system wouldn’t let me leave. Apparently I’m not a god.

What am I, then? How realms work is beyond me. If I had to summarize them, it’s a manifestation of something on the mortal plane. Alright, hold on. Think of planes as layers of existence. Like an onion? No, that’s a horrible analogy. Like plates stacked in your cupboard. Again, that’s just not right. How about intersecting planes in three-dimensional space. They all converge at some point, either near the mortal plane’s center, or off to infinity. But they share that common anchor point, and never converge with each other.

Planes, realms, holds. Whatever you want to call them, they seem to share the same local space. That segments them into Pantheons. Tero’gal, which is my realm, shares space with the low-level gods. They’re people who were kinda powerful in life, but not powerful enough to play with the big boys. The Prime and Demonic Pantheons are the most powerful ones. I suspect the Prime one is full of Earthlings.

Alright. I’m on a roll here. These heavenly realms intersect with the mortal realm. At those points of convergence, the god’s power can be felt. Yeah, they can influence other places in the world and maybe they can shift where their realm intersects, but that’s the important part. They cannot converge on the same spot. Well, they shouldn’t. That seems to go against the system’s rules. How did I come to this conclusion? Think back, mysterious reader. Tresk, if you’re reading this, don’t think too hard. Your brain might explode.

Drogramath said he could no longer communicate with me. Forget whether that makes sense. He’s never tried to talk to me before, except when he tried to interdict me. The Tara’hek is blocking him out. Because the planes cannot overlap. Meaning he’s ceding control to me. Why the hell would a god bow out like that?

Things are going to get interesting. I’m going to expand my realm. Bathe the entire southlands in this weird power and see what happens. If my suspicions are right, the system is going to recognize my growing power in Tero’gal and give me some upgrade options. How do I know that? Because it’s all upgrades all the time, baby. Look at everything around us. Towns, kingdoms, cores, buildings.

Well, you certainly are a mysterious reader. Coming into my realm and reading my journal. Perverse, don’t you think?

Until next time.

THEO IS A NERD. HE WRITES WEIRD NOTES IN A WEIRD LANGUAGE I CAN’T UNDERSTAND. NERD!

ALEX WAS HERE.

JUST KIDDING IT’S ME TRESK.

LOVE YOU.

Chapter 1

Nascent Realms

A gentle breeze blew across the wheat field in Tero’gal. The scent of the crops drifted through the cracked window of the cottage, the wind fluttering the pages Theo was working on. His forced break on the mortal plane was becoming daunting, more than any hard day’s work ever had. But here there was solace. A break from reality in his perfect little realm. The wind stirred up, growing cold as a thought drifted through his mind. The alchemist looked up from his journal entry and felt something drift through his mind.

“Visitors?” he asked himself. “At this time of day? In this nascent realm?”

Chuckling at his own joke, he rose and approached the door. Sending a mental command of acceptance, he felt the wind grow colder. Then a man appeared near his wheat field, a fanged smile on his face. One of the Toora. A race of bear-people he’d seen a few times. This one bore a shaggy coat of white with only the gentlest mottling of gray. Robed in frost-blue, barefooted, and smiling endlessly.

“Ho there!” the man shouted, waving like an idiot. It reminded him of Tresk.

“Hi,” Theo said, approaching and shaking the man’s hand. A paw, really.

“Didn’t know a new god was in the infant pantheon,” he said, brushing his hand across the wheat. His eyes lingered over the confined space. “Small planet ya got here.”

Theo shrugged, gesturing for the god to follow him. “I’m not a god. Want some tea?”

“I’d love some tea,” the Toora said, following him to the cottage.

Theo kicked the [Flame Artifice] to life and set on a pot of fresh spring water, sprinkling [Moss Nettle] inside. The alchemist found a plush chair that he’d brought from the mortal realm and sat down.

“Not a god?” the man asked. “Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Benton. Toora God of Frost and Winter. And death. Working on that death part.”

“Theo,” the alchemist said, offering a nod. “Not a god. Just a man.”

“Never heard of something like this,” Benton said.

“I’ve never heard of someone in this world holding such a plain name,” Theo said.

“Really? It’s quite common. With my people. Who are the Toora.” Benton kept his eyes on the pot of tea. He sniffed the air, clearly unfamiliar with plants of the southern swamps.

That was to be expected. If the Toora were isolationist before, they’d be holed up by now. The war in Qavell had reached a breaking point. Theo was in his private realm avoiding the meeting he was meant to attend on the mortal plane. The endless discussion of upgrading the town, picking a kingdom style, and assigning leader roles. It was nice to fall away from all of that, even if only for a few hours. It didn’t matter. They wouldn’t notice he’d been gone for more than a few minutes.

Benton noticed Theo’s pensive expression. He leaned in. “We’re fortunate. To be in such a protected position during the war.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, if the rumors are true there’s a purge in the high heavens,” Benton said, tapping his foot. “How long on the tea?”

“Only a few more minutes. Let it steep for a while.” Theo popped the lid and stirred the contents around. He almost didn’t want to ask about the War in Heaven. But when you shared tea with a god, no matter how minor they were, you just had to ask. “How is the war going?”

“Zagmon is dead,” Benton said. “The Eye is dying. Fan’glir fled his realm. So, I guess it depends on which side you take.”

“And which side do you take, Benton, God of Winter and Death?”

“Well, Zagmon was the old god of death. For the Demonic Pantheon—you’ll be familiar with that—so that’s good for business,” Benton said. “My fears rest with the Arbiter.”

It felt as though someone poured cold water over Theo’s head, the sensation trickling down his spine and producing gooseflesh. Yuri actually did it. Rose to the heavens and took an advanced position. Something above the gods, perhaps. An Arbiter. Now that would be interesting.

“Works for me,” Theo said. “Zagmon tried to kill me.”

“Who hasn’t Zagmon tried to kill?” Benton chuckled. The kettle whistled.

Theo poured out two cups of unsweetened tea. It wouldn’t compare to the delicious stuff that Xam made back on the mortal plane, but all senses seemed to be dulled in his infant realm. The Toora took the mug in his paw and sipped, nodding with approval. The alchemist rose from his chair and beckoned his fellow realm-holder to follow. Off to the edge of Tero’gal, to observe the workings of the mortal realm.

“Check it out.” Theo sat near the edge of his island, dangling his legs and splashing some tea on himself. The clouds swirled below, producing the image of the meeting he had fled. Frozen in time, his administrators were still reacting to his disappearance. Benton joined him.

“Wow, this is interesting. A realm without ascension. Is this a new thing?”

“I suspect not,” Theo said.

The Toora god had nothing to say to that. However friendly he might be, there was a reason for his visit. Information was useful to everyone, even those in the heavenly realms. Allies were even more valuable. Here on the peaceful island of Tero’gal, none of that seemed to matter. It was just a safe retreat. Somewhere to hide away from mortal problems. The alchemist found his thoughts were clearer here. As though the attributes he had on the normal plane didn’t interfere. Nor did his cores.

“You can change what the viewing thing looks like,” Benton said. “Through your god interface.”

“I don’t have one of those,” Theo said.

“Oh, right. Not a god,” Benton said with a chuckle. “Hey, want to check my realm out?”

Theo shrugged. “Why not?”

A wave of a paw and an icy portal appeared. The Toora gestured for Theo to enter, but when he went to step through it, he slammed into a solid wall of ice. The pair stood for a long moment, just staring at the entrance with puzzled expressions.

“Not a god,” Benton repeated, laughing a great belly-laugh.

“I spilled my tea.”

Despite being a god, the Toora had a lot to talk about. He was aware of the war in the northlands of Qavell, but cared little for them. His people had retreated to their mountain homes, climbing high into alpine environments to wait out the undead. As a new god in their minor Pantheon, he bore little responsibilities. He spent most of his days walking around his realm and enjoying the cold. Several hours of discussion later, and Benton was ready to leave.

“Feel free to stop by. When I’m here,” Theo said.

“I will. Few of our neighbors are this friendly. None have offered me tea, although a few tossed spears,” Benton said, chuckling yet again. A flash of icy-blue light, and the Toora was gone, leaving Theo alone with his thoughts once again.

Back to the edge of the island, peering down to his Tara’hek. The figures had moved. Tresk was shaking her fist at the sky, likely annoyed that Theo had left her to deal with the meeting. The alchemist saw Alex, the third member of the Tara’hek, honking excitedly on the wooden table.

With his thoughts in order, it was time to return. Focusing on his [Tero’gal Dreampassage] ability, the alchemist invoked [Approach] on Tresk. The clouds below swirled to swallow him. A flash of a darkened Bridge, and his bare feet graced the wooden floor. The shouts of anger began immediately, and continued even after he assumed his position at the head of the table.

Alise, Gwyn, Luras, Aarok, Azrug, Tresk, and Alex were assembled in the room. Alise and Gwyn handled most administrative duties within the town, but Theo considered Luras and Aarok to be more important in this matter. Perhaps that wasn’t giving the administration staff enough credit, but a mind for war seemed more useful in these trying times.

“You cannot just vanish in the middle of a meeting,” Alise said. She seemed angry.

“He was gone for a minute,” Aarok said, waving the administrator away. “If I could vanish for a moment to collect my thoughts, I would.”

Theo picked up the [Kingdom Core] left behind by Khahar and ran his fingers over the surface as his friends argued. This was a heavy weight to shoulder, but it was the perfect solution. Something his old friend foresaw.

“I’m the mayor,” Theo said, cutting through the din. “I won’t be one for long, though. Will I?”

“Archduke Theo Spencer,” Tresk said, chuckling.

“Do we agree?” Theo asked. “The [Free City Alliance] option is the best one. Right? With the titles being Duke, Duchess, Archduke, Archduchess.”

“Does that even make sense?” Gwyn asked. “Surely we’d need to be a Dukedom to have those titles.”

Theo squeezed the orb of metal in his hand, summoning the screen he’d seen earlier that day.

[Broken Tusk] is unconnected with another [Kingdom Core]. As the leader, you’re eligible to upgrade your town to one of the following civilization types:

Kingdom

Empire (requirements not met)

Duchy

Free City Alliance

…

…

…

There were only a few options that interested him. Each came with unique structures for organizing towns and cities, but few interested him. Even fewer still interested his support staff. The empire seemed fun, but they didn’t have enough connected towns and cities to make that happen. Theo drilled down on the other options for inspection.

[Kingdom]

Civilization Type

Description:

Kingdoms are notable for a single leader who makes all the decisions. Whatever town is designated as the seat of the kingdom will pull all other towns and cities under their control.

Effects:

Every connected town is required to pay monthly taxes to the owner of the kingdom.

Increased experience gain for all combat-related skills for every citizen under the king’s banner.

Decreased experience for all non-combat related skills for every citizen under the king’s banner.

[Duchy]

Civilization Type

Description:

Duchies are subordinate states under another civilization-type (often a kingdom or an empire). While the ruler of the duchy answers to whatever nation they are subordinate to, they may operate with more autonomy than towns or cities under that nation.

Effects:

Reduces taxes owed to owning nation. Rate determined by level of your [Kingdom Core].

Increased experience to combat-related support skills for every citizen within the duchy.

[Free City Alliance]

Civilization Type

Description:

Free City Alliances are civilizations that consist of nation-states that share power. The town or city where the [Kingdom Core] is planted determines which town or city gains majority rights. That town or city will be declared the nation’s capital, serving as a hub for the other towns or cities. Other towns or cities within the sphere of influence of the capital will gain all the bonuses from the capital, but it’s up to the leader to determine policies.

Effects:

Minor increase to all experience gained to all citizens.

Speed of travel on roads between nation-states is increased.

Of the options [Free City Alliance] was the best. Not because it provided the best bonuses, that might go to the [Duchy]. The thing that made the alliance appealing might have been only in name. It would allow at least some autonomy for Rivers and Gronro, not binding them as vassals to Broken Tusk. But there was the hidden problem with raising up towns under his command. They’d likely be reluctant to fall under his yoke, damaging their already strange relationship.

As for the titles, those were random. Theo was given an endless list of titles from king to despot. The selection he fell in love with was those for the [Duchy] option, and the system didn’t care if he mixed and matched. There was a certain ring to Archduke Theo Spencer that he couldn’t deny.

“We can pick whatever titles we want. But I like the duke ones.”

Alise cleared her throat. “My vote is for the [Free City Alliance]. I suppose I don’t care what the titles are.”

“The alliance gives us flexibility,” Aarok said. “It’s the loosest one in the list, allowing us to nudge our allies into a position we like.”

“Yeah. Instead of putting a knife to their throats, we’re just waving it around,” Tresk said.

“I’m assuming we can level the [Kingdom Core]. Just like we level the town,” Theo said. His mind wandered for a moment. Thinking about the other thing in Khahar’s box. An object for another time. Everyone at the meeting was eager to solve this problem now.

Their conversation went on into the late afternoon. Theo’s stomach was rumbling by the time they’d all agreed to pick the [Free City Alliance] option. He was going to pick it anyway, unless someone had a good argument against it. The alchemist’s mind was on Gronro to the north. Without his [Hallow Ground] potion shipments, they would have already fallen. A fact that wasn’t lost on their leader, Grotgrog Stormfist. As stubborn as dwarves were, Theo had only received a short message through his communication crystal. But a ‘thank you’ was all he needed.

The administration team asked for Theo to hold off on planting the new core for a day, and he agreed. Just having it in his inventory brought some peace of mind, and he was hesitant to plant it. That brought on a new range of responsibilities he needed to prepare for. The silver lining in all of it was that they already had an informal alliance with both towns in the Southlands. Planting the new core just made it all real.

Xam’s tavern was more packed than ever. If she hadn’t designated a booth for the future archduke, it would have been impossible to get a table. She was serving some variation on her now-famous Zee noodles with cheese sauce and tall mugs of Rivers mead. The alchemist declined the alcohol and picked at his meal, watching as Tresk fed individual noodles to Alex. The goose had gained the ability to move about on her own, although she was still only slightly bigger than the alchemist’s head.

“Gotta make you big and strong, Alex,” Tresk said, opening her mouth as she angled the noodle into the creature’s bill.

“Can we say that my break is over?” Theo asked. “I’d like to get back to work.”

“Of course,” Tresk said. “Just needed a day, didn’t you? All rattled up from the attack.”

“I wasn’t rattled.”

“Maybe a little.”

Theo let out a slow breath. “Perhaps a little.”

It hadn’t affected him at all. Something about falling into the realm of the Bridge of Shadows, and then his own personal realm scrubbed his mind clean. The attack from the Zagmon dronon was rapid and precise. A gambit aimed at killing the alchemist. And it would have worked if not for the skill evolution. That twist of fate.

If not for the privacy of the booth, Theo would have had to field questions about the destruction of the chain between Broken Tusk and Qavell. That didn’t stop people from poking their heads over the side and asking if everything would be alright. Word normally traveled fast in the growing town, but it was worse since everyone saw the system message. All he could say was he had a solution to the problem. Keep calm and keep working.

With half a plate of Zee pasta eaten, Theo led his group of companions out of the inn and toward the bathhouse. The buffs it provided were fine, but the relaxation the mineral water brought was the real winner. There were long lines for the public baths, but the group made their way to the one reserved for the mayor. The alchemist washed himself under a spigot as Tresk dove into the hot pool of water. She swam to the edge and beckoned the growing gosling inside, giggling as the creature chirped with excitement.

A slow breath and Theo lowered himself into the hot pool, rolling his shoulders and closing his eyes. Nothing worked stress out of his body like that calming pool of hot water.

“I wonder what Khahar is up to,” Tresk said, emerging from the pool to spit water onto Alex. The gosling chirped angrily and chased her around.

“If he’s the man I remember… He’s choking the life out of Zagmon,” Theo said.

Tresk shrieked, swimming away from Alex. “Think so?”

“I hope,” Theo said. He continued, telling Tresk about the Toora god Benton. She was as surprised as him that another god could cross into their realm.

“We have neighbors. That’s a good thing, right?” Tresk asked, allowing Alex to nip at her face as she fell into thought. “I wonder if that’s going to be a problem. Being near the gods. We’re not gods, Theo.”

“I’m not even level 20.”

“Makes it stranger, right?” she asked. “Wish we had more information on the Tara’hek.”

Theo chuckled. “Any information on that would be nice. But here we are. Working our way through it as always.”

“With a few less allies.”

“And more enemies? I’m not sure about that one. The only people I’m worried about are stuck on the moon.”

“Yeah. That sucks too.”

The pair spent enough time in the bath to prune their fingers. Tresk’s amphibian-like skin didn’t prune up as well as Theo’s, so they used him as the indicator. Heading back to the Newt and Demon, the alchemist paused to stare at the sky. There was a moon that shifted colors the way Earth’s moon changed phases. And another dark moon that wasn’t visible. He thought he spotted the edge of something, like a great scythe in the sky. But it only lasted a moment before a bank of clouds came to obscure the sight.

“Come on,” Tresk said, dragging him along. “We’ve got experience to grind.”

Chapter 2

Archduke Theo Spencer

Ghostly ships pulled into the harbor at the Dreamwalk’s version of Broken Tusk. Theo sat on the harbor’s wall, watching as they came and went at his command. Spectral sails caught an imaginary wind, sending ripples across the water and pushing the gosling along. While this was a place for grinding experience, it also served as a point of quiet reflection. Tresk never saw it that way. Off battling with imaginary clones of the Zagmon assassins, she found herself at home amid combat.

“Just fighting through it, I suppose,” Theo said.

Alex chirped in response.

Theories about the Dreamwalk and Tero’gal were tossed between the pair and Xol’sa regularly. While the Elf was busy training up his new core, he begged Theo to bring him along to the infant realm. That was a literal Bridge the mortal couldn’t take. Not without invoking a Tara’hek of his own. Even then, Theo suspected a new realm would have been generated. Under the right circumstances. Things crafted for eons by people of immense power. A question lingered in the air. The same question that plagued the alchemist from the moment he arrived in town.

To what end?

But it wouldn’t do any good to sulk. Four phantom stills appeared from nowhere, along with beds of growing plants. Theo got to work on the same recipes he’d done before, whittling away the time he had in the realm and inspecting his attributes.

Belgar (Theo Spencer)

Drogramath Dronon

Level 19

Alchemist

Core Slots: 4

Stats:

Health: 105

Mana: 160

Stamina: 115

Strength: 20 (+11)

Dexterity: 16 (+8)

Vigor: 20 (+8)

Intelligence: 23 (+9)

Wisdom: 27 (+7)

Points: 0

His current build was truly diverse. The more time he spent looking over the book given to him by the god, the more he realized the importance of the [Wisdom] attribute. It did other things, he was sure about that, but the primary function seemed to be memory. How powerful his will was derived from that attribute, but documentation on the subject seemed scarce. What scholarly cults still existed on the continent seemed unwilling to share what they knew.

Looking forward to his build, Theo knew the most important thing was to find a selection of skills once he hit level 20 in all cores. Leveling was simple enough to understand, once a person got a few levels and paid attention. Attribute points were given at every personal level. Free skill points, points that could be spent on any skill, were given on multiples of five in the personal level. That was a function created by the system to allow a person to catch up with new cores. Core slots appeared on multiples of 10.

Cores gained a domain-specific skill every multiple of 10, often starting with at least one skill inside if the user got them naturally. Shoving a new core in your chest resulted in no free skills. Hitting level 20 meant that Theo would have a free-domain skill to pick, and he’d likely use it for his new mage core. Then he needed to select a skill from the endless list for his [Drogramath Alchemy Core], [Drogramath Herbalism Core], and his [Governance Core]. All of them were close enough to hitting the next domain. He was certain he knew the concepts to break through that barrier.

Some cores presented challenges every 10 levels. Things that a person needed to understand about their cores to advance. These were the training wheels of the system, ensuring that no one would get too powerful without understanding how not to blow themselves up. The alchemist doubted the practicality of that, owed to the rumors he’d heard. Those who advanced beyond level 30 often found themselves dead. How much of that was due to other people was beyond him.

The [Drogramath Alchemy Core] would get the [Reagent Deconstruction] skill. Theo inspected that one as he worked the stills.

[Reagent Deconstruction]

Alchemy and Herbalism Skill

Rare

Understanding the composition of reagents leads to their deconstruction.

Effect:

Increases the user’s ability to deconstruct reagents.

+1 Intelligence

Requires: Level 15 [Drogramath Herbalism] and Level 15 [Drogramath Alchemy] cores.

This would give him a massive advantage. Understanding reagents was a crucial skill for any alchemist, but this was something that went beyond that. A step into a greater world of alchemy. A new domain. But he hadn’t selected a skill for his herbalism core yet. There were attractive options, but Theo planned on holding off until he understood the deconstruction skill.

The [Governance Core] was another matter entirely. Some options were locked behind invisible requirements. In the skills menu, they appeared as darkened boxes that revealed nothing of their contents. Neither the requirements nor the skill itself. His hope was for something that helped him rule over multiple towns.

Near the end of the night, with Theo’s cores pushing close to level 20, Tresk dragged the alchemist over to the road where they’d almost died. She ran through scenarios in which they could have won, but the margins were slim. Worse was the fact that they could only have won, according to the simulation, if the alchemist dropped his improvised explosive on everyone. The result was death for all gathered.

“I think we got lucky with that one,” Tresk said. “Talk about a no-win scenario.”

There was another way they could have won, but Theo didn’t want to mention it. Tresk hadn’t trained her newest core up very high, resulting in a weak core that couldn’t keep up with such a gap in power. Her new [Parantheir Duelist’s Core] had a skill to isolate enemies.

“No use worrying about it,” Theo said. “I’m hopeful about my new core. Perhaps some defensive options.”

“How would you know?” Tresk asked giggling. “You decided to take a core for a lady called the Queen of Mystery. It could just summon turtles for all you know.”

Xol’sa had created a guide for what he thought Toru’aun stood for. His unique ability to control planar magic gave him some insight on that, but it was his magical education that gave him the edge. He suspected she was a god that favored warding magic. Reactive magic that was based on complex triggers. How those wards manifested was a mystery, but if the alchemist knew Dronon gods it would have to do with writing a poem and hoping for the best.

For the rest of the Dreamwalk, Theo and Tresk played with Alex and created theories about the new core. The alchemist did it to avoid thinking about the task that lay before him. Upgrading the town into a kingdom was daunting. Even though it was something he wanted for a while now, the added responsibility was crushing. What was the point of building a decent administration staff if he didn’t intend to use them? He already assigned them lord and lady titles. Those seemed more like decorations than anything, but drove them women forward to work harder.

When the Dreamwalk finally ended, Theo remained in bed for some time. Tresk dragged him out, sensing the trepidation and flashing her ever-present devious grin. Out into the streets of Broken Tusk where citizens gathered around the dark monolith. They spotted him and the low drone of conversation descended into hushed whispers. Parting to either side, the group formed a path to the monolith. To the center of town and the heart of Broken Tusk.

Theo cleared his throat. “I don’t really have a speech prepared. We just got lucky.”

A few voices shouted over the crowd. Approving words praising the forming alliance. Theo jammed his [Kingdom Core] awkwardly into the monolith and prepared for the system’s message to pop up.

As expected, there were a bunch of civilization types to pick from. He selected the [Free City Alliance], then used the interface to enter the remaining information. After typing the titles in mentally, he was presented with a wide-area map. Selecting the only two towns in range, Rivers and Daub, and Gronro-dir, he pressed the button labeled ‘complete’. A rush of power flooded through the town, radiating outward in a circle. The ground shook for a moment, but no visible changes were made to the town. Another message popped into his sight.

Congratulations [Archduke Theo Spencer]!

You are the founder and leader of the [Southlands Alliance].

[Alran Cherman] in [Rivers and Daub] has been granted the title of [Duke].

[Grotgrog Stormfist] in [Gronro-Dir] has been granted the title of [Duke].

Every town or city within the sphere of influence will now draw power to maintain themselves from this [Kingdom Core].

Please consult with your kingdom interface for more options and statistics about your nation.

“And just like that, we’re traitors!” Tresk said, cheering.

That sent a ripple of cheers through the crowd. Independence was a thing longed for in Broken Tusk. A thing the citizens wanted far longer than the alchemist had been their mayor. But these strange circumstances had made that dream a reality. Something that wouldn’t have been possible without the intervention of Khahar. When he went to inspect the monolith, he was now given two options. He could inspect the town itself, or the alliance.

[Small Free City Alliance]

Name: Southlands Alliance

Leader: Archduke Theo Spencer

Level: 1

Core Towns:

Broken Tusk (Capital)

Rivers and Daub

Gronro-Dir

Current Energy:

50%

Upgrades:

None

Just like that, the Southlands were no longer allied with Qavell. They were independent, whatever that meant. Theo noticed the energy level of the town, and wondered how they’d replenish that. It was just another thing in town that ate money, which meant they needed to make more money. Out of reflex, the alchemist pulled his communication crystal from his inventory and squeezed it. As the crowds cheered around him, he felt disappointment flood through him. There was no answer.

“I hope Fenian is alright,” Theo said, jostled by the crowd.

“I’m sure he’s fine!” Tresk shouted. “Mister Archduke.”

Working their way through the crowd, Theo, Tresk, and Alex shoved into Xam’s tavern. Assuming their normal seat in the private booth, they waited for last nights’ leftovers to be served. While they waited, they enjoyed the delicious tea prepared by the cook. It was far better than anything Theo could make himself, despite having skills related directly to distilling things. Cooking and alchemy were just too different.

Aarok and Alise shoved their way into the booth before the food even came. The Half-Ogre had an excited look on his face, while the Human administrator seemed reserved.

“So, we did it?” Aarok asked.

Theo wanted to be modest about what just happened, but he couldn’t hide the smile on his face. “We did it. Independence.”

“Now we get to ruin your breakfast,” Alise said, offering a sheepish smile. “The alliance is formally a thing. Yay! Now we need to work on bolstering Gronro.”

Gronro-Dir was at the forefront of the undead defense. What reports Theo had read painted the situation as grim. There was now no travel between Qavell and the southlands possible. They didn’t know if the undead were limitless, but it seemed that way. The only saving grace was the defensibility of the Dwarven town. Another name for the town was Murder Passage. A single approach from the north led up a narrow stone pass. On either side were steep drops, allowing the defenders to toss potions from the comfort of the walls. Their current strategy was to keep the narrow pass covered in [Hallow Ground] potion, keeping the skeletal army at bay.

“Any ideas?” Theo asked.

Aarok chuckled. “Oh, i want you to take a guess. He’s slimy. He’s grumpy. A genius with artifices.”

“Throk has something?” Theo asked. The man was always a genius with building stuff.

“We have a winner,” Alise said. She withdrew sheets of paper from her satchel and laid them on the table. Just as food arrived.

Theo thanked the server, watching as Tresk gobbled her food up, before picking at his own. Each design seemed interesting, but the alchemist couldn’t understand what he was looking at. One seemed like a catapult and the other a water cannon. The inner-workings were absurdly detailed, but he got the idea.

“The sprayer thing might be a problem,” Theo said, jabbing his finger onto the first design. “The catapult would work, but what’s the point? Just toss the potion.”

“What’s the issue with the sprayer?” Aarok asked.

“Potions want to be used as whole-unit mixtures. Although, now that I think about it…”

Theo fell into thought, leaving everyone at the table hanging. Potions reacted in a standard way. Well, most of them did. There was the essence element, which held the properties, the catalyst which created the reaction, and the base. Enchanted water was the typical base, although regular purified water could be used. A reaction could take place in exact units—the amount of units needed for the final product—or in mass quantities. Technically, he could perform a mass reaction of [Hallow Ground Potions] in a large container, then attach that to the sprayer.

The issue was, Theo had never tried doing that before. Every time he made a potion, he portioned it out after a mass reaction. Potions that failed to react would create an inert potion, which was useless. But a sprayer mechanism seemed genius. He imagined adventurers running around with large tanks on their backs, spraying a fine mist of [Hallow Ground] like the flamethrowers of Earth.

“It might work,” Theo said, concluding his thoughts. “I need some time to work on this, though. Alise, can you field all the questions that are going to come in. From the other members of the Free City Alliance?”

Alise withdrew two communication crystals from her bag and smiled. “They’re already calling. Once you’re done here, you need to head to the harbor. Azrug and Gwyn are talking with the Khahari traders. They want your approval.”

Alise excused herself from the table, leaving Aarok to stifle a laugh. Theo ran his hand through his hair, tracing the swoop of his horns. A few eager flicks of his tail and he was over it. Having the [Tero’gal Dreampassage] ability meant that he could retreat and relax any time he wanted. His own personal little break area.

“What’s your take on everything?” Theo asked.

“Me? I’m loving it,” Aarok said. “Been looking forward to this day for a long time.”

“We all have,” Tresk said, dangling a noodle for Alex to swallow.

“What fuel does the [Kingdom Core] take?” Theo asked.

“Don’t look at me,” Aarok said. “I do not know.”

Theo accepted the response and busied himself with his meal. Picking through to find chunks of the cheese, he sipped on his tea as the conversation shifted. Aarok and Tresk shared stories about the old days. From when they were kids and the town was little more than a collection of shacks. The Marshling made fun of him for trying to join the Qavelli army, and he made fun of her for trying to be an adventurer.

“Yeah, well I’m the number one adventurer in town,” Tresk said, puffing out her chest. “Chief stabber. Hey! Why don’t I have a lady title?”

“Do you want a title?” Theo asked.

“No. Just seems like you would have given me one by now,” Tresk said.

“Well, you should check out the dungeons, Tresk,” Aarok said. “Xol’sa has been experimenting on the [River Dungeon]. He’s got some interesting results.”

“Welp. Guess that’s what I’m doing today. Your turn to watch the kid, Theo,” Tresk said, vanishing from the spot.

Theo set his bag on the ground, clicking his tongue until the gosling jumped inside. He sat there awkwardly for a few moments before he realized Aarok wanted to accompany him to the harbor. Rising from the table he let out a breath.

“It’s within the walls,” Theo said. “You don’t need to babysit me.”

Aarok shrugged. “Whatever you say, boss.”

“But you’re still going to follow me?”

“Yeah.”

“Tresk?”

“Yep.”

Theo departed from the tavern and made his way east, towards the harbor. He stopped by the ranch and tried to force himself to love the Pozwa and Karatan. It didn’t work. Even as they came over with chitters and bleat-like crows, he wasn’t sold. Both creatures were horrible and he wouldn’t care for them himself. Looking down at Alex in his bag, he realized how much he missed Earth creatures. What few were left when he was there, anyway. But there were still images of them he could have viewed. Genetic replicas stored away.

The harbor was coming along. The single boat that rested in her massive embrace was manned by a few Khahari. Most imposing among them was the cat-person standing on shore, talking heatedly with Azrug and Gwyn. Theo took his time approaching, keeping his eyes on his new shipwright for a while.

Laedria Wavecrest reminded Theo more of a Marshling or Half-Ogre than an Elf. She was hard to work with, only getting to it once she was taunted. But her work spoke for itself. Between her and the new Starbristle industry, she had created a mostly finished boat. It was small, about a quarter the size of the Khahari vessel with a single mast. But the blue fiber used to weave [Starbristle Cloth] was beautiful. It floated in the harbor now, although the Elf’s team still worked on it. Leaks seemed common with her version of the pitch, but this was the first one. It was a big deal.

“Fancy archduke title over here,” Azrug said, jabbing a finger at Theo. “Could’ve just called yourself Theo Spencer, Master of the Universe.”

“That’s too long,” Theo said.

“But you have to admit the absurdity of it,” Gwyn said. “Been a mayor for a season. Now you’re running an alliance of towns.”

“They’re small towns,” Theo said.

“System says we’re a massive town,” Azrug said.

Theo took a moment to study the young Half-Ogre. He could say the same thing about Azrug. Going from not having cores to functioning as their chief merchant in a season. But civilizations weren’t built in this world over eons. Certainly Qavell had enough hardship gaining a foothold on the continent, but with magic there was nothing to stop the alchemist from expanding as quickly as he’d like. Including the trade deal with the Khahari.

“So, shall we talk terms?” Theo asked, turning to regard the trader.

Chapter 3

The Cork

The Khahari trader seemed like a nice man. He bore mottled desert-patterned fur. Sand-colored patches mingled with dark brown spots, revealed by his mostly-bare torso. When Theo reached to shake his hand, the grip was firm and assuring.

“Call me Zol,” he’d said, struggling with the local tongue.

“We can do business in the sacred tongue,” Theo said, speaking in Russian and leading the man toward some shade. It was getting dreadfully hot today already. A taste of the bitter heat to come.

Khahar was a prankster in everything. Boisterous and unerring in his ways. According to the man, when he was transmigrated to this planet he taught his people Russian. As a joke. He convinced them it was the sacred language of their heavens, and kept the joke going for 60,000 years. That was dedication the alchemist could admire.

“I wasn’t aware anyone spoke it outside of the Khahari Desert,” Zol said with a nod. “You were truly a friend of my master.”

Theo found a crate to sit on, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “Will the Khahari remain in the desert? What are you guys going to do without a master?”

Azrug cleared his throat, then spoke in the Qavelli tongue. “We’re over here if you need us.”

Zol shot a look at the Half-Ogre, then his gaze dragged back to Theo. “They don’t speak the heavenly tongue? Good. My lord’s plans are not for others to understand. We don’t understand them—we don’t question them. From his seat of power in heaven, he’ll give us commands. Now, trade.”

Fair enough. The entire race of cat-people worshiped Khahar like a god. He was a god now, but even before that they considered him a deity. Theo shifted the conversation to trade, but it was difficult. Zol’s Qavelli was bad enough that when Theo had a question for Azrug, there was a brief back-and-forth. But the hour-long discussion bore fruit. Stone was in abundance in the Khahari homeland, but they lacked timber. That wasn’t a surprise. The entire continent was a desert.

Gwyn and Azrug offered some tentative numbers, negotiating a high price for the wood. But there was a concession in their deal. The Khahari weren’t just valuable for their buying power. They had access to the other continents of the world. Existing trade networks that spanned beyond what Theo knew about. While he understood the existence of places like Slagrot, Partopour, and Bantein, he only knew of them by name. Zol had contacts in each of them. Trade empires willing to crack open the fruit of a newly founded nation.

Zol withdrew a bottle of yellow liquid from nowhere, joined by 4 glasses. He poured out a mouthful in each one and passed it out. “To seal the deal.”

Theo let the liquor burn all the way down into his stomach, but another quirk of Yuri’s humor shined through. It was a poor attempt at replicating Vodka. While he enjoyed the gesture, the alchemist drew up a proper magical contract to write the deal in stone. It wasn’t much to start, but the gesture meant more than the flow of coins.

“Advice for you, Archduke,” Zol said before departing.

“Please,” Theo said, gesturing for the Khahari trader to continue.

“You are a friend of the Khahari, because you’re a friend of our god. Others won’t see you as such. When they approach your port… Double your patrols.”

Theo clapped his hand over the man’s fury shoulder. “I appreciate the advice. I’ll let my captain know.”

“That said, I would like to tour your town,” Zol said. “See what he saw.”

“You’re our guest,” Theo said in Qavelli, gesturing for Gwyn to come over. “This is one of my advisors. My administrator, Lady Gwyn. She doesn’t have the time to be your personal guide, but she’ll give you a brief tour.”

“Anything for the Archduke of Broken Tusk,” Gwyn said, stifling a laugh.

Theo departed without seeing them off, making his way to head back into town. Only to be stopped by Laedria Wavecrest. He suppressed a groan, his eyes lingering on her boat bobbing in the harbor. While he wanted to get working on the [Hallow Ground] shooter, boats were more important. They were the most important thing in town, there was no denying that.

“How is it going?” Theo asked, letting the annoyance fade from his mind in an instant.

“How is it going?” Laedria scoffed. She gestured at the boat. “Going pretty damn good! First boat. What do you think? Wanna name it? I bet you wanna name it.”

“The Cork,” Theo said.

“Cork? Oh! Cause it’s small and bobbing in the ocean, right? Hah-hah,” Laedria said. “Seriously, do you like it?”

Theo approached the harbor’s edge, looking out over the first boat built in Broken Tusk. This was a massive achievement, even if it was tiny. “What style of vessel is this?”

“Fishers,” Laedria said. Her crew hovered nearby, as though they expected high praise from the alchemist. “We make Fishers, Traders, and Spears.”

“Light, medium, heavy,” Theo said, nodding. “I understand. What kind of pay are you and your team expecting?”

“Ah, well,” Laedria said. She shifted in place, shuffling her feet along the stone ground. “I’m kinda crap at this part.”

That sucked. Theo was bad at it as well.

“We’ll work something out,” Theo said. “Currently, we don’t have much trade to talk about. And you’re not participating in the trade, yet. How much did you make for crafting a boat like this back home?”

Laedria shrugged. “Couple gold?”

Theo scratched his chin, tapping his foot as he thought. What kind of business was this? He didn’t need fishing boats, so why would he commission more fishing boats? The Cork was a proof of concept, nothing more. He withdrew 25 silver from his inventory and handed it over, gaining a confused look.

“I said a couple gold,” Laedria said.

“And I don’t need a fishing boat,” Theo said. “I want you to make this work as a business. Find the fisherman in town, and sell the Cork to them. Build me a Trader-style boat, and I'll pay you in full. How large are they?”

“Well, they’re more than four times the size of this little guy. Twin-masted and high-running in the water. Big hold for a lot of stuff,” Laedria said.

“And how much did you earn for those?”

“10 gold under contract. That is to say, we had employment under House Wavecrest, so the rates were lower than if we were freelance,” Laedria said.

“Then you’ll have your 10 gold,” Theo said, producing 5 from his inventory and handing it over. “Under the assumption that you and your people will serve not only as my shipwrights, but trainers.”

“For sailors?” Laedria asked. “Get some [Sailor’s Cores] and we’re in business. Anyway, you have a deal.”

Theo drew up a simple contract for the deal. He set no time limits for the shipwright to produce a ship, only that he’d pay a flat rate. The alchemist didn’t neglect to detail the part about him giving her 5 gold upfront for the construction of a new boat, promising to deliver the other 5 on completion. It was a petty sum for something so important, but that was only the start of the cost.

Laedria was happy and signed the contract, leaving the alchemist to depart from the harbor. He headed up the slow incline, back toward the town proper, and thought about the additional costs. Cores for the sailors, payment for the farmers working his fields, and the seamstress working his cloth. Then enchantments for the boats, some way to attack [Dimensional Storage Crates], and so on. 10 gold was the least of his investment into this project, and it needed to produce results soon. But those were worries for another day. He just hoped his typical incentive of payment would push the shipwright to new heights.

The next problem Theo needed to solve was one he didn’t know all the conditions of. He saw enough from Throk’s designs of the potion-spewer to know the challenges, so he headed off for the lab. Alex chirped when they entered, begging him to let her out to greet their shopkeeper, Salire.

“Awww, you missed Auntie Salire?” the Half-Ogre woman asked. “I missed you too, little feathered thing.”

“How’s business?”

“Slow,” Salire said with a vague shrug.

Theo offered an equally apathetic shrug.

“You have a few orders, if you wanted to tackle those,” she said, scratching Alex behind the left wing. “A scatter of copper coins to insult your illustrious title, Archduke.”

“So, how long do I have to suffer these jokes?” Theo asked.

“Until you build a prison. And throw us all in for making them.”

“Fair enough.”

Spacing out for a moment, Theo connected his willpower to the lodestone network outside. He sensed his golems working hard on the tasks he’d given them. The [Lesser Plant Golems] were doing well in the greenhouses, making sure his stock never ran dry. There was something in the network about the [Lesser Metal Golems] fighting something, but that was standard for the mine. There were often low-level monsters spawning there, even if they were the weird tentacled dogs. But the crates upstairs were filled with enough [Hallow Ground Essence] and [Swamp Truffles] to work for today’s experiments.

Leaving Alex downstairs, Theo began his experimentation by brewing a large batch of [Hallow Ground Potion]. He made a small offering at his shrine to Lord Drogramath before considering the best approach. The massive flask on the table held enough potion to create 50 individual [Hallow Ground Potions], so his next step made sense. Stuffing the flask in his inventory, he left the lab and found his way to an empty field to the west. He passed by his seamstress' house, locating a decently vacant area. Alex stayed behind with Salire, too busy enjoying the scratches.

Adding 50 units of the [Refined Aerosolize] modifier to the mix, and watching the subsequent bubbling reaction, Theo prepared to experiment. First, he scooped a single unit of the potion from the mix into a flat-bottomed vial and tossed it on the ground. Nothing happened. He inspected the massive flask to ensure the main potion was still stable, despite being at an odd measure.

[Hallow Ground Potion]

[Refined Aerosolize]

[Potion] [Modified Potion]

Epic

Created by: Belgar

Alignment:

Drogramath (Middling Bond)

Grade: Excellent Quality

Shatter to create a cloud of denial.

Effect:

Throwing this potion creates a fifty pace circle around the point of impact with the [Hallow Ground] effect. Undead, ghost, etc creatures may cross into the cloud, but will be banished when they do so.

It was perfectly fine, unlike that bit of silvery liquid on the ground. Theo went over, knelt down and watched it turn a foul shade of brown. With his mental command, he inspected the liquid.

[Inert Potion]

[Junk]

Common

Created by: Belgar

This potion has been measured incorrectly. It is now useless.

As expected, when the potion was separated from the base in an odd number, it was turned to junk. He returned to the large flask and scooped out the correct amount of potion and splashed that on the ground. The system was happy enough with that delivery method, creating a massive cloud of silvery-white that hovered just above the air in a circle. According to the description of the potion, it was fifty paces in a circle. Any undead that crossed the line would be banished, whatever that meant.

The testing was clear, and Theo returned the large flask to his inventory. When Throk created his device to shoot the liquid, it needed to dispense an exact amount. The advantage was that it didn’t need to hold individual potions. The thing could have an alchemically inert tank that dispensed the liquid. A 100 unit capacity tank could shoot 50 times, as each potion took 2 units of the liquid. That might not be practical, but it was something that a [Dimensional Storage Crate] might help.

Theo headed over to Throk’s place and found the blacksmith’s shop devoid of the Marshling. Instead, he found the apprentice Thim. Thimamuri Ironmoore was a strange Dwarf. Not in appearance, though. He had a bushy beard and a bad attitude, squatter than the Humans of this world by several heads. The brusque Dwarf gave him a nod and a grin.

“You’ve driven the Blacksmith from his workshop,” Thim said. “That’s a crime worth punishment under Borhig.”

“Borhig has no power here.”

“Calm your ass, Demon,” Thim said, waving him away. “The Marshling is in his workshop. The artificer one.”

Theo rolled his shoulders. He didn’t realize that other gods were a sensitive point for himself, but there it was. It didn’t help that he knew little about Borhig, Dwarven God of Blacksmiths. “How are you settling in?” Theo asked.

“Well enough. Throk gave me a thrashing when he figured out I wasn’t actually an apprentice. But we’re on good terms now. I fill in for him here when he’s too busy. Hey, thanks for asking. Mister Archduke.”

Theo shot him a glare and then walked away, not breaking eye contact. After disappearing behind the workshop, the alchemist reappeared to glare a little more. Just to send the point home. The Dwarf laughed and then he was off again. Throk’s artificer workshop was right around the corner, and the sound of creative Bantari cursing from within revealed that the man was inside. Three sharp knocks and another series of curses.

“Come in, you idiot!”

Theo let himself inside, finding Throk laboring over something that looked vaguely like the drawings he’d seen.

“Oh, if it isn’t the—”

“Make an Archduke joke. I dare you,” Theo said.

“Big old stupid Archduke. I was getting there,” Throk said, slapping his hand on his newest artifice.

Theo spotted the barrel. It was the design that would work best. So the Marshling had gone ahead and worked on that concept. Good. “Alright. I did a simple test, and this design is going to work best for shooting the potion.”

“It was my favorite design. Look here… Yeah, right behind the tank. It’s just a simple pump like the ones I used for the water. Only high-capacity.”

“Interesting,” Theo said, leaning in. Delivering bad news to Throk was an art. The alchemist hadn’t mastered that art, but he was trying. He stalled for a moment, pointing at various things he didn’t understand before he gave up. “You’ll have to change the design.”

“Why?”

“The potion needs to come out in exactly 2-unit bursts,” Theo said.

“Why?”

“That’s how the potion works,” Theo said. “I don’t make the rules.”

“Yeah, maybe you should. Archduke over here can’t even make the rules.”

Theo let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, if you’re not up to the job. I’m going to need to—”

“Alright, alright. I get it. Sorry for giving you a hard time about the title,” Throk said, grumbling. “What do I need to do again?”

Theo explained the problem in detail, but the genius mind of the artificer had a solution. Instead of just drawing from a tank and spitting it out the front, he could attach a 2-unit tank near the barrel. Once it was loaded, he could apply pressure with his artifice magic and then release the potion all at once.

“Does it matter if it comes out as a wild spray?” Throk asked.

Theo shrugged. “This requires more testing. I’d say work on this design, and then we can test it… Actually, I’ll just leave some potion here for you to test with.”

“You’re alright with me just shooting the magic undead-killing potion like that? Isn’t it precious?”

“Sure, but I have a cave filled with the truffles,” Theo said. “I’d rather have a functional artifice. And… Well, it just seems like too much effort to use anything else.”

“Fair enough,” Throk said, prodding at his artifice.

Theo measured his expectations for the artifice weapons. There were already system-generated weapons they could mount to the north-facing walls of Gronro-Dir. Those ran on motes, a relatively abundant power supply. The one thing Throk’s idea had going for it was that it could spew whatever potion they wanted. For the [Hallow Ground] potions, that meant dousing the land with something that would instantly kill all undead. Assuming banishment was the same as death.

The potential for an anti-undead weapon like this was more than just in service of Gronro-Dir. This was the first step forward to something bigger for Theo. When the threat of undeath first arose, ideas had been swirling in his mind. Because if something was undead, it was difficult to kill. That was by definition of the word, but the reports he’d received from Gronro proved that true. It wasn’t enough to just destroy the undead, they needed to be banished. All of them.

Thus Theo’s idea of dropping potions from the air—however that might work—was born. It had evolved with Throk’s idea, becoming a different plan entirely. Now he had the desire to spew massive quantities of the potion down onto the undead from a safe height. How to get to the safe height was another question, but the alchemist took problems one step at a time. Which led to the next thing that would piss the poor Marshling off.

“I need some more stills,” Theo said. “Drogramathi Iron, if you can swing it.”

Throk gave him a flat look. “Isn’t your lab full enough already?”

“Yeah, but… You know,” Theo said, shrugging. He hadn’t planned on lying about this. “Drogramathi Iron is better.”

Throk let out a belabored sigh. “Alright. I’ll work with Thim to get you a few. How many do you need?”

“At least 4.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.”