The same old council room wasn’t the same.
The two doorways were filled with slabs of fitted pine on equally wooden hinges. A bit fragile for his taste, but the two-inch-thick bar did a fair job of making up for the fault.
But that was only half the change. The other half was quickly driving Ethan to drink.
"Fiat Specificitas, Ex Ordine Revelio!"
Twisting clouds of light and mist fought for space above an elaborately carved mandala at the center of the table, and along its underside, and along the pedestal that held it up. Smooth, clean, continuously curving lines crossed and twisted to create geometrically repeating shapes that reminded him of flowers here, tree branches there and even something disquietingly like an octopus’s tentacles.
"Manifesta Particula, Per Geometriam Sanctam!"
All of it laid out in hair-thin cuts, nearly invisible from the wrong angle, in the base stone, picked out with accents at select vertices. The smallest of gem shards for the most part, but near to the center four small pits in the cardinal directions, with a larger pit at the very center. Each coated in precious silver.
"Claritas Emergat, Ex Fracto Infinito, Veritas!"
Gesturing a series of rapid gestures, making Ethan's own fingers wince in sympathy for the contortionist-like poses, then with a barked.
“Sic Fiat!”
The mist snapped from a cloud into glittering plane, compacting into an easily recognizable solid, infinitely thin, triangle hovering above the table.
A triangle that hovered for the briefest moment, before its center, also a triangle that left three equally sized triangles behind it broke loose, hovering above, while its three equally sized mates spun out and down. Leaving 4 triangles in a loose dome over the table. Then the center of each of them fell free, spinning to the side, filling in an equally spaced empty section of the dome. Then the center of every new triangle fell free to fill in more. Then the center of every new triangle fell free to fill in more. Then the center of every new triangle fell free to fill in more. Then the center of every new triangle fell free to fill in more. Then the center of every new triangle fell free to fill in more. Then the center of every new triangle fell free to fill in more. Then the center of every new triangle fell free to fill in more. Then the center of every new triangle fell free -
“Don’t look.”
Ethan jerked back, twisting to the side and ejecting the contents of his stomach into a waiting pail. Shuddering as his mind, much to his appreciation, refused to remember what it had just seen. He heaved again and again as shadows on the far wall split and twisted, into ever more perfect –
NO!
He closed his eyes. Breathing deeply and trying to ignore the wretched smell, and the sounds of others contributing to it.
“Coalescere!”
The word was jagged, sharp, and final. The light snapped, then dissipated. Leaving the world somehow real. Finite once more.
And miserable.
“Gods weep Brother! You could have warned us! Or better yet, done without an audience!” He staggered upright, noting from the edge of his eyes, James trying and failing to do the same.
Only Conner had beat him and… and conner looked clean and composed… He gave him a closer look as Blake snapped in a reply.
“Oh, the poor baby, he’s sad that 2 golds of work made him a bit uncomfortable. Would you like to pay old Cassius to do it for you, and let his patron, the Count, know the next morning?”
White wisps extended from his ears… wool plugs. And he knew that stance. That was the bastards sleeping at attention- lucky bastard!
Ethan took a deep, slow breath. “Fine, fine. I apologize! I am grateful. For the help you always give, for your skills and wisdom. But Brother of mine, I’d just as soon you didn’t drive me to frothing madness, yes?”
Blake shrugged, a bit red-faced. “I, ah, didn’t expect it to be quite that bad.”
Ethan let out a breath. Of course he didn’t. Now, if only this was the first time. There was a reason he’d set out buckets. Even if only two of them had been used. Not to mention asking Ermina to wait outside.
He removed the bar from the door and, sticking his head out, called for the four waiting servants and Ermina, to enter.
No one said anything of import, though Ethan hid a small smile as a thrown pebble nearly knocked Conner over, his startled instinctive dodge almost sending him stumbling into a knee-high chest.
But it wasn’t silent. Ermina’s voice filled the room with oohs and aahs over the now elaborately decorated table. And it was worth admiring, Ethan could admit that now that the smell of vomit was clearing out. It was objectively beautiful if a bit eerie. How the patterns seemed to extend on forever, but never quite the same-
He flinched away, glancing at the far wall for a moment, then looking again, taking in the beauty without looking to closely. It took a bit of effort at first, but he mastered it.
And all the while Blake was standing there, a grin fit to split his face in two and nodding along like a popinjay to Ermina’s compliments.
Ethan let him have them. He wasn’t wrong in what a similar service could have cost. It was only a short while that he had to listen before the servants finally left, the door was rebared and Ethan could focus on the elephant in the room.
Yes.
Well, that was an easy choice.
Environmental?
He checked Cut out of habit. Selecting a 10ft cube along the back wall.
Huh… He could do a bit more apparently. He’d have to play with that. Later.
Populace?
Fertility Rates?
Ethan stared for a moment. That was… a lot higher than he expected! Near a quarter of the populace per year? He flicked a finger towards Ermina.
She glanced away from Blake, staring into space, then tapping at it for a few times before she sighed, her arms crossed across her still small but protruding stomach. "Not all pregnancies are successful, Ethan."
He winced. not the idea he wanted to put in her head. He wondered for a moment just how many wouldn’t succeed, and what that would mean to a pair of hopeful parents.
Blake could tilt that scale, for Ermina at least.
The expense for the entire population though.... Well, he’d see what Septicias Rebuke would cost them. And perhaps the Blessing of Hectai’s Health. It wouldn’t heal wounds in an hour, but between the two they would heal in a week, instead of two and without rot setting in.
They did need people, right? He forced his eyes away from Ermina’s stomach and the promise it offered.
Perhaps there were buildings that offered a similar buff without a monster core cost.
Probably so, and it was worth looking into.
Buildings?
*Frozen Ground Penalty
Bless Ermina for getting the clay flowing again. Even if at a reduced capacity.
He tapped his finger a few times, but eventually gave it up. He didn’t know enough yet to judge the outputs. How many suits of armor was a cubic foot? How much food was that? Presumably around seven thousand pounds, that was the usual daily consumption. Though the soup production would drop with Andrew, and his detachments, absence.
More smoked meat and mushrooms no doubt.
He sighed. He’d run it by James later. He’d make sense of it.
He did make a note of the low-quality modifier for Guile’s Pit. Not surprising really, the sand layer was more a notion then padding, and with neither wood nor metal, the ‘weapons’ were a bit notional yet.
They’d fix that in time.
Construction?
Mortar? They’d been more or less ignoring it. The core did a better job of joining things together anyway. And the same for the floors and ceilings. How many lords could claim a floor or ceiling of polished Basalt!! It was nicer than a common man had any right to.
If a bit hard on the feet, as Ermina was want to remind him… Daily. That might require a change in how they did things. Floors and roofs he could add to existing buildings if it gave them a quality improvement. But with mortar, well that ship had indeed sailed.
Skills?
Well, that made things easy. Ethan hid a snort.
Classes?
That was something. It warmed him to the very core to see so many options, even if many were limited. He flicked his fingers towards Conner and James, interrupting an argument over patrols and traders. Or as James preferred to call them, traitors. The odd thing was, it wasn’t even an insult in his mouth!
Catching both pairs of eyes, he shared a small, satisfied smile before leaving them to their bickering.
Advancement? How little had they accomplished so far? It could take decades for the first core adv- Holy shit!
How?
Ethan froze. The standard witnessed… with their core as its head piece. A fortress core focused on upgrading, protecting and defending witnessed a generational war for their very survival.
Well.
That was something. He fell back into his chair, staring blankly.
“Ethan, yous ok m’boy?”
“Haven’t been your boy in a decade, old man.” Still, he flicked his fingers and set both windows to visible, hovering above the table.”
“By Brunti's left nut…” Neither the startled oath nor Ermina’s reflexive, “Language!” made much of an impression in front of those two, simplistic windows. And the world of opportunities they represented.
He considered it, for what felt like mere moments, but could have been a damn hour for all he knew. Not like anyone else was capable of keeping the time either, then abruptly stood. Walking over to a chest and removing a large black draw string bag from it.
He walked back and removed a softly glowing crystal, red and mottled brown, about the size of the last digit of his thumb, placing it on the table.
Yes.
Well, he didn’t expect just one to do anything. He dropped another. And another. And another.
Twenty-three cores later:
He hesitated, then gritting his teeth kept going. How close had they been to 78 before? Halfway? Three quarters?
At twenty-seven, he had to return to the chest for another bag, feeling like a fool of a gambler, throwing good money after bad. Cores were valuable and useful. And while ranking up his core, and every other nobles, was their main use, half measures gained them nothing.
And would cost them potential healing, rift detections and a hundred other useful magics.
But he had to know!!!
Another dropped. Another. Another.
He let out a gasp, sitting back down.
“Thirty then. Or 630 to finish.” James offered, appearing at his elbow to take the bag from limp, unresisting fingers and, after tying its strings rather tightly, he dropped it back into the chest… then moved an empty armor stand on top of it.
“Hey!”
He smirked back, but he did it from a face that was severely lacking in color.
“How many…” Ethan mused. “How many did You Retrieve from the Slimes Conner?”
“A bit overs a hundred and twenty minors and four smalls.” Four percent then. A small core had the energy of ten lesser stones, but was worth more like fifteen. High-level rituals and the rare bit of core-powered equipment required purer sources of energy. No, just four.
The forest rift had offered less than half as much.
Of course, that was only part-
“No, Sir James.” Ermina’s voice broke his train of thought. “Six hundred without help. The R–“ She glanced at the new oak door, a thick bar holding it shut, but the silence runes unlit, and visibly changed what she was about to say. “-Our actions will also provide fuel for the upgrade.”
Indeed. But how much fuel?
“Do nothing. Feed it nothing, and see how long it takes for the counter to increase.” James offered. “As important to do as your core splurge-“
Ethan spluttered. Splurge?
“-if less exciting, I don’t doubt.”
“Ass.”
“Language!”
Ethan lifted her hand and kissed the back in apology, though his eyes didn’t leave James, nor the vicious little grin on the man's face. Oh, it was on.
Blake rapped his fist on the table, jerking all their attentions towards him, then carefully drew an extra symbol on the table.
Yes.
Ethan waved.
Blake grinned, placing a reddish gem on the table, then with little visible force, into it. “It’ll light up when the sands fill.”
Ethan nodded. That would be nicer than checking it ten times a day. Of course, it was never-
“But I am running low on gems. Make sure to add that to your list for the fall caravan. Nothing too ostentatious, of course, Garnets, peridots, topaz. Lesser stones will do.”
And there was the other shoe. Lesser he said!
James dropped his head and groaned into his arms.
Well, at least it wasn’t all bad then!
Just the same, hopefully their own mine would supply a few sparkles. Because their best high-value/low-weight trade good just came off the market and with all the needs they’d have, it was going to get quite tight come fall.
He prayed, and quite fervently to any ear that would listen, that the next few rifts would drop something of high value.
___
