Turn 31 Social - 2485 - Part 2
[*] A Scenic Hike
You're both active people, and the Silver Tarn is supposed to be beautiful. Go for a hike up Karagril and take in the view.
You're both active people, and the Silver Tarn is supposed to be beautiful. Go for a hike up Karagril and take in the view.
Earlier, you wrestled with the question of how one best asks someone on a sort-of date, until Wolf rendered your careful preparations moot. Now, the question is how one asks someone on an actual definite date. After some thought you stumble upon a possible solution that would be substantially easier: you just pretend that the sort-of date was a definite date and act like this is date number two. Panoramia has shown herself to be very insightful, so you're hoping that she'd pick up on all the unspoken parts and know where everyone stands.
Is that unfair to her? You're feeling like that might be unfair to her. It's also not really putting your best foot forward. Okay, back to the drawing board.
What little you remember of how such matters are gone about in rural Stirland is of little use, as you doubt Panoramia would recognize the significance of a carved wooden spoon. Your memory of how things are done in the Colleges are equally useless, as romantic fads amongst Apprentices would come and go on a regular basis and would rarely go beyond an individual College. Eventually you settle on following Wolf's lead and track her down in the fields, which is fairly straightforward since she's flaring Ghyran like a signal fire as she draws power from the mountain Waystones. You wait until she's finished the intricate magical ritual she's performing on the freshly-sown field and ask her outright, thankfully managing to do so without stumbling too much over your words, if she would like to share some private unchaperoned time with romantic intent with you.
The look she gives you is long and thoughtful, and by the quiver of her lips it's clear she's fighting back a smile or even a laugh, but she eventually says yes so you're able to tell her your idea for the details and flee as soon as she accepts that too. Her acceptance means you only spend most of the rest of the day hiding in the privacy of your dragon chair as you wait for your nervousness and embarrassment to abate. It's so much easier in the books.
---
Though it has its downsides, living just a few mountains from the Badlands means that you can usually count on sunny days. On the day of the hike, you set out just as the sun is starting to peek above Karag Zilfin and mist is still hovering over the fields to meet Panoramia early, outside the cottage that the Halflings built for her. One advantage of being a Wizard is never being unsure of what to wear, and she's dressed just as she always is, except with stout Dwarven boots instead of her usual sandals, and she's done her hair up in a plait instead of letting it hang loose like it usually does. For your part, with some reluctance you've left your revolvers at home, but Branulhune is always with you and your staff makes for a good walking stick so you're far from unarmed.
"No hat?" you ask as the two of you head out.
She shakes her head. "It's almost Summer. I only ever get sunburns in Winter."
"Ah. An Arcane Mark?"
"Something like that. It runs in the family, being hardy in the summer and very not in the winter. Handy for working the fields, not so much the rest of the time. I'm just glad the Expedition succeeded before it got too far into autumn."
You nod. "That's why you holiday through winter."
"If you're not going to be productive anyway, might as well enjoy it. The College just about shuts down during winter. Drives some of the new blood spare, at least until they delve deep enough that they start feeling the rhythm too." She prods at your shadow with her staff, which sways to the side to avoid it. "I suppose you wouldn't have anything like that, with Ulgu."
"Not so much. It does peak twice a day at dawn and dusk," you say with a wave at the rising sun, "but there's no real low points because there's almost always plenty of shadows and boundaries to be found. I've read theories that the moment between years should be powerful for Ulgu, but there's six different dates for that in the Old World alone."
"Prescriptivists," Panoramia says with a snort.
"Assume a spherical calendar in a magical vacuum..."
Panoramia laughs. It's a nice sound.
---
Climbing Karagril would have once been a formidable feat, but to construct the aqueducts to water the fields the Dwarves scouted the best route and carved stairs into the steepest parts of it, turning it into a challenging but enjoyable hike. You're able to keep a decent pace as you've kept yourself in good shape ever since you first picked up a greatsword. Panoramia proves able to match you, which you partially ascribe to being on her feet all day and partially to the benefits of Ghyran, since she only ever seems to need a few moments with her staff buried in soil to find renewed energy. When the slope is gentle enough to allow the two of you to walk abreast you chatter about Karak events and College gossip.
The sun has climbed high in the sky by the time you reach the tarn, and the beauty of its silver waters is matched only by how refreshing it is to drink from them after a long walk. The two of you circle the water to find a suitable place to rest, and end up sitting with your backs against a boulder, watching the shimmering water and resting your legs. "So," Panoramia eventually says. "What is it about me that got your attention?"
It's a question you'd considered yourself. "You're fun," you say. "You're fun, you keep up, you're not intimidated, and you're a good person. And it's easy and pleasant to spend time with you."
You hazard a look sideways at her, and there's a hint of blush to her cheeks. "Well, I'm glad you think so," she says. "I thought you were put out that I managed to see through your Grey Wizard-ness."
"I..." You sigh. "It can be useful when I'm working, the reputation and the general aura can save a lot of time. But when I'm not, it can really get in the way of getting to know people. Even some people who are alright with Wizards in general are unnerved by my Order. This," you pause to flick a stone at your shadow, "certainly doesn't help."
"Ah," she says, nodding. "I suppose I see what you mean. Though it could always be worse," she leans forward and starts to undo the laces on her boots, "one common one for us is being really uncomfortable with shoes. I can't imagine working around that. I mean, soil is all well and good, but there's all sorts of things that are unpleasant to step on, or in."
You consider telling her of some of the worst of the Marks Ulgu has to offer, and decide against it. "My Master lost his beard to one," you say instead. "Now there's just smoke coming out of his chin."
She pauses and looks over at you. "That must look so strange."
"You'll have a chance to meet him, he'll be at the Duckling Club meeting."
"The August Order of the Ducklings," she corrects with a smile. "Was he a good Master?"
"Yes," you say automatically, then consider it. "Yes. Often busy, but... well, when my magic first manifested, he was working nearby. When he collected me, I kind of clung onto him. By the time he had wrapped things up and brought me to Altdorf, I'd decided I was going to go into the Grey College and he'd teach me and I'd be able to do all the wonderful things he could do. And once I'd finished my Junior Apprenticeship, he took me on." You smile. "I suppose life would have went very differently for me if a Wizard from a different College had been closer."
"Sounds like it must have been nice," Panoramia says, kicking off her now-unlaced shoes and stretching her legs, which you take the opportunity to admire. "I had a Master - still do, I suppose - but it was always Ma that taught me. She didn't want to be the one that broke the link, mother teaching daughter since the dawn of time. I think Teclis broke that link when he revealed we'd been worshipping the Jade Wind instead of an actual deity, but I quickly learned not to get involved in that mess." She sighs, and then starts to unbutton her robes. "Anyway..."
You can feel your face heating up as a thousand risque scenarios rush through your head. "Uh, Panoramia, what- what?"
She looks at you oddly. "We're up here to swim, aren't we?"
Oh. Oh."I only had the hike and the view in mind," you say faintly, only mostly relieved. You should be looking away, but find yourself unable to as she shrugs off her robes. Even though the shift underneath doesn't reveal much more than her robes did, they were still her underthings. "I don't even know how to swim."
She smiles at you. "Didn't you learn to swim as a child? In a dam or a dew pond or something?"
You shake your head. "Of course not. That's tempting Manhavok."
Though you put up a resistance that's half-hearted at most, you can't deny that the water and the company are both tempting, and in the end Panoramia does manage to cajole you out of a few of your outermost layers. The waters of the tarn are quite bracing, fed as it is by meltwater from above and a spring from below, providing a nice counterpoint to the sun now high in the sky. You have to admit that once you start splashing about in the water you quickly forget how exposed you are, though that forgetfulness did not carry over to how relatively exposed Panoramia is.
By the time the sun passes its zenith and begins to dip, you've discovered an ability to remain afloat in water and built up quite an appetite for the meal the two of you had carried up - Panoramia had selected the food and you the ale. Though it doesn't have your full attention, the meal is quite excellent, and by the time you've packed away the remains the sun has dried you out enough to redress for the trip back down. All in all, it wasn't quite what you expected, but it was everything you could have hoped for.
---
To your surprise, Cython becomes a regular visitor, justifying your decision to build a dragon-sized room with a dragon-sized entrance to accommodate it. In a series of evening meetings it devours your books on the Ancestor Gods, appearing to focus on their mortal lives rather than their worship after they left the material world. "They came from the south," Cython says thoughtfully. "A different origin makes for different archetypes, perhaps." It stretches its wings and yawns, light glinting off the vertices of its teeth. "Perhaps one day I will journey there."
"So you theorize a common set of deific archetypes?" you ask curiously.
"There are only so many phenomena deserving of cultural primacy," it says. "It stands to reason that there are only so many possible Gods. Perhaps origin is immaterial, and living chiefly underground means that their lives are different enough in substance that they reach different answers to the same questions. The only other subterranean societies are already dominated, so the Dwarves may be unique on this world."
"Why does it matter to you? Do dragons have Gods?"
"Only if they are very unfortunate," it says with a hissing chuckle. "But those of us that have attuned ourselves to the World-That-Is have the Winds, and mine makes the seeking of truths very satisfying, just as yours leads you to find enjoyment in trickery and deception. A new appetite is a small price to pay for the abilities and insights and joys a Wind affords."
"Did you choose your Wind?"
"Did you?" Cython replies, and as far as you can tell its tone, it seems genuinely curious.
You frown, thinking. "Sort of? I had the opportunity to choose differently, but I didn't."
"So it is with us. We could prevent our attunement, but those of us with sense see little point. Our natural state, while grand, is suited for the World-That-Was. As those that have made pets of the water-folk are learning, the World-That-Is punishes those that will not adapt." It turns an eye back to the book it is holding aloft in a grip of magical energy. "A lesson that the Dwarves seem to have learned well, to elevate those who met the new world head-on."
"Ah," you say. "Actually, many of them consider it wrong to deviate from the example set by the Ancestor Gods."
It turns its eye back to you. "They walked the World-That-Is thousands of years ago, did they not?"
"Almost seven thousand."
"And their greatness and suitability for worship derives from the ways they taught the Dwarves to adapt to the World-That-Is."
"That's one way to put it."
"And the lesson the Dwarves take from this is that they should not adapt any further?"
"A lot of them, yes," you confirm with a shrug. "Though not those that have resettled here."
It snorts, sending a chill wind blowing through the chamber. "Good," it says simply.
---
"The Dwarves say you used to live off the coast of Araby," you say conversationally another evening.
"A pleasant archipelago," Cython says, scratching at its neck with a massive claw. "Mountains rising from the sea atop a confluence of magical energies. It served admirably for raising eight children over three centuries."
"You're a parent?"
It nods. "Many times over."
"What happened to your mate? If you don't mind me asking."
"Singular?" It hisses a laugh. "I had many. Some stayed long enough to teach their child, others left as soon as their part in producing the eggs was complete. Some I tired of and chased off before an egg was created, others were incompatible matches for offspring but proved pleasant companions nevertheless. My islands were very attractive to those attuned to the Winds, and as the rebel water-folk would pass by regularly, tearing apart the fallen beasts that pulled their ships served well as a display of strength and skill. I had my pick of mates for as long as it entertained me."
You're probably not going to get a better in than this to satisfy your curiosity. "So these eggs, were you laying them or siring them?"
Cython turns to look at you with both eyes, and from what you've been learning of draconic expressions, it looks amused. "Does it matter? I have delved far deeper into Hysh since then. Such distinctions now only exist when I have reason to will it so. I am a being of light and magic, not of flesh and blood." It points at you with a single massive claw. "If you survive long enough, your path will allow you to become something similar. And the blessing of your species is that it will take you much less time than it did me."
---
"It's my privilege to introduce Lord Magister Melkoth, Rector of the Grey College, and Magister Regimand Speiseschrank, my former Master." The resident Wizards introduce themselves one by one, automatically falling into the standard practice of going by rank and seniority. If anyone is intimidated by having the Commander of the Grey College's Battle Wizards present, they don't show it. Few last long as Wizards that can't put on a brave front. "First matter is the only piece of unfinished business I was nervous about leaving behind - the Ice Dragon question."
"Ice Dragon?" Regimand asks.
"It's going by the name of Cython, and it's happy to leave us alone as long as we leave it alone. I'm hoping that in the long run we can talk it into something more mutually defensive, but for the short term, I'm happy with nonaggression and loaning it the occasional book."
"As in, a Hysh Emperor Dragon?" Regimand asks.
"Handy sort," Johann says, with deliberate casualness. "Wiped out its share of the local foes and then some."
"Far from the worst neighbour we've had," Panoramia agrees.
"As for other potential problems, the Okral matter seems to be getting no worse than simmering, but the Marienburg situation looks like it'll drag on for the foreseeable if it doesn't come to a head. Seems like they've been funding bandits in the Empire, and Gods help them if they get it into their head to start the same thing around here. The Dwarves don't approve of that sort of thing, and I've got a feeling Ulrikadrin won't either."
"The Winter Wolves have started lending their initiates to the riverboats, just for the trip to Barak Varr and back," Hubert reports. "That way the Barak Varr marines can focus elsewhere. They've already had a few clashes, though it could just be the usual lawlessness of the Border Princes."
"Only time it's ever peaceful is just after a Waaagh goes through," Melkoth says. "And even then, not for long. Nobody wants to be the last one to emerge from the Vaults and find that all the relatively good land has already been reclaimed."
"I'm glad they're working with Barak Varr. The more of a unified front we can present against Marienburg, the more likely it is they'll back down."
"Not necessarily," Regimand says. "Marienburg isn't a united front, the Directorate is ten heads of the wealthiest Merchant Houses, four High Priests, and the head of their College. The ten families want to show off to make sure the lesser families don't get any ideas about supplanting them, and the High Priests tend to egg them on so that their own influence grows as the Merchant Houses expend theirs. Even if they don't get anything out of it, they might keep up with their games as part of internal peacocking."
"Bloody Marienburg," Max sighs, to general agreement.
"Apart from all that, the big thing on the horizon remains Karag Dum. I've been getting a lot of vague yet dire hints but no solid information so I'm going to do my best to be prepared for anything. Might be a good time to brush up on the fundamentals if you're going to be joining me - I understand the Wastes are rather unfriendly to spellcasting."
---
With Marienburg's games leading to an explosion of banditry, it's about time the EIC started to develop the ability to defend itself. Bandits are in it for the profit after all, and if ships flying the EIC flag develop a reputation for answering with steel and gunpowder instead of surrender when challenged, their ships should be much more able to deliver their cargo to its destination.
While it would be quite nice to lay down keels of Dwarven River Monitors to start utterly dominating the Aver, the expense would be ruinous and every Dwarven shipwright is already spoken for due to Barak Varr's riverine expansion. So instead the Hochlander is sent to work with the existing Boatmen Guild to expand their training practices. There's trouble early on as the boatmen don't want to disrupt the unspoken agreement with river pirates of 'surrender peacefully and everyone goes back to their families', but the Hochlander manages to play on their patriotism by pointing out that the pirates are taking the money of a foreign power to disrupt the Empire's inner workings, of which the boatmen are a fundamental and irreplaceable part.
The boatmen are fairly capable of self-defence already, as beastmen, forest goblins, and wild animals don't give an option of surrender, and the normal operation of a vessel requires a number of heavy and sharp implements. So it doesn't take much to hone that natural edge into something fierce with the help of a few ex-River Warden trainers. Supplementing that is a crate of Stirland Repeaters distributed throughout the EIC fleet, as a single Repeater used properly should be enough to give the impression of a staggered volley of fire - enough to dissuade even the most desperate of pirates.
The Hochlander also sees to the construction of a pair of scaled-down Wargalleys to act as escorts to the most vulnerable cargos, as the river barges will never not be a sitting target, no matter how well-trained their crew. Even at cost arming the entire crews with Repeaters would be hugely expensive, so they're instead armed with Blutdorf crossbows. They're not exactly Wolfships, but they should serve as an answer to riverine banditry.
As you skim through the rest of the paperwork from the EIC, the results are plain to see: even though banditry has expanded significantly over the past few months, the EIC's losses have remained steady where everyone else's have increased significantly. It's not just the Aver that's been targetted, as word from elsewhere in the Empire is that the Stir and the Upper Reik are also seeing upticks in hostile activity. It seems Marienburg has found a way of expressing their displeasure that suits them. There's no corresponding increase in Barak Varr's rivers; you're not sure whether that's a good thing or not. Dwarven displeasure would certainly escalate matters, but might swiftly convince Marienburg to back off. You do, however, have the pleasure of reading that attempts at banditry on the Moot's portion of the Aver had a swift and brutal response, including a written apology to the town of Scheibbs for the Halflings not being able to fish all the corpses out of the river before they bobbed downstream.
The Sylvanian campaign remains calm; the two remaining Vampiric holdouts are no longer tearing chunks out of each other, and Roswita seems content to maintain the greatly tightened stranglehold over the towns. Refugees are streaming out of the cordon, all claiming to be opposed to Vampiric rule but more likely unhappy with being on the losing side, and they're currently being resettled in Drakenhof. It shouldn't be long now; either the holdouts will be weakened enough that Roswita can roll right over them, or they'll be desperate enough to give one final battle and be crushed.
---
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- There will be a two hour moratorium.
- Though only a single date is shown in the text, there would also have had several offscreen dates over the months.
- The Cython portion of the update was originally posted here.
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