Spear of Clouds Unfurled 5.6

The monsoon season had begun, and it was bucketing down, sloughing off the waxy canvas tarpaulins that Meria had erected over her makeshift bar and grill. The air was wet and cold, or rather, it was cold for Guildport, and all of the non-adventurers present were wearing coats and jackets. One of the perks of having a mana-core was that exposure to the elements bothered you increasingly less as you grew more powerful, and although I wasn't nearly as strong as Velevir yet, I didn't really need to adjust my wardrobe at all.

Meria's restaurant was still rather primitive, with most of the labour being sucked up racing to finish more solid constructions for the stormy season, but my girlfriend's reputation for excellent cooking had started to spread, and she was getting enough customers that she'd brought another Merfolk, one of her cousins, a lanky teenager, on to help her work the busier times.

When I'd heard this, I'd immediately launched into a pitch for her to make it a worker's cooperative, but apparently that was the norm in Laemist. Well, it wasn't quite a cooperative, but they used 'profit-share' rather than wages, and although I didn't quite understand all the mathematics involved, for the times he was working they virtually split everything they made.

I had just emerged from another unsuccessful delve into the dungeon, and was sitting next to Velevir at a table that Meria had set back from the rest—her part of the operation that saw me accompanied day and night by armed friends.

Velevir was reading a romance novel, her hammer within easy reach and facing towards the tent-restaurant's entrance-way, her eyes flicking up whenever anyone in the restaurant moved.

Meria was to our left, behind the counter, humming to herself and turning some squid over coals, and Coyan, her cousin, was panicking and running about to fetch drinks despite the relatively light evening crowd. Meria, like her cousin, was the exception to the 'mana-coreless' needing to get a bit more rugged up, and was wearing her usual beachwear-like outfit that I no longer had to pretend not to stare at; merfolk, apparently, didn't really get cold either.

Me? I was peering at the stupid book we'd found upon arriving to the third, desert-like floor. The tome was filled with impenetrable script, and constellations that led to weird puzzle-obelisks which no one had had any luck in trying to piece together.

Well, apparently some adventurers had noted that the script appeared in a few places on the first and second floors, but beyond that? Nothing. No one had had anymore success than my group. You pressed eight glyphs on the obelisks, failed what was presumably some kind of password, and then had a small group of armoured skeletons claw their way out of the sand to try and kill you.

We'd gotten much better at killing the skeletons—having Nathan enter the code and then run back before the undead could finish emerging, allowing us to deal with them in a controlled manner, but beyond the fact that their armour was apparently good for smelting down, we'd gained nothing in what had to be almost a hundred attempts.

What I thought I was going to notice after flicking through the book for the hundredth time, I had no idea, but I was nothing if not stubborn, and some small part of me thought that perhaps I might glean something if I just stared at the flowing symbols hard enough.

"Hey cutie," said Meria, setting a plate of fried squid on the table along with some fried vegetables and a sweet and salty, blue-ish sauce before leaning over and giving me a peck on the cheek.

"Hey," I said distractedly, furrowing my brow as I stared at what was probably the title of a page, larger text, with a swirling rune that I could swear seemed familiar—and not just because I'd seen it in the book a thousand times already.

"'Thanks for dinner Meria,'" said Meria, a hint of annoyed brown blooming in her aura. "'It sure was nice of you to cook my favourite for me, and that you don't charge me at all.'"

I blinked and looked up at her. "Oh, um, sorry," I said, gulping. "Thanks, Merri; it looks great."

"I'll forgive you, this time," teased Meria, reaching up and scratching behind the left of my lion-like ears. "But only because you're such a cutie."

My leg immediately twitched as she found exactly the right spot, a shiver went down my spine, and a purr escaped my throat before I could stop it. Velevir glanced up from her book and raised an eyebrow. Dark green amusement radiated her aura, and I felt my cheeks begin to burn.

"Merri!" I complained, as my leg continued to tremble and my cheek twitched. "Not in public!"

"If they're ever being grouchy, Vel," said Meria, winking at my friend as she continued to scratch behind my left ear. "This is the spot is right here."

Velevir snickered as I continued to tremble. "I'll remember that."

"And you should see what they do when you pull their tail-"

"Merri!" I protested again. "I'm trying to work."

"What's this?" she said, abandoning her wonderful-slash-awful scratching and peering over my shoulder. "A Caith book? I didn't know you read Caith."

I blinked, and I felt Velevir start. I smacked my forehead. That was where I recognised the text from, I'd seen it back in the Caith's camps, both inscribed into the ruins, and being taught to their youngsters.

"I am so stupid," I groaned, taking off my glasses. "Of course it's a fucking Caith book! This is an ancient dungeon! And they- they've lived here for who knows how long! They must have made it!"

"You sure?" said Velevir. "I didn't think they were literate."

"Vel, I saw them teaching their kids it, in their settlement," I said, trying not to get too annoyed by my friend's open disdain. "They're not 'savages.'"

Velevir shrugged and looked at Meria. "Can you read it?"

"Umm… not really," said Meria, looking closer at the book. "We use a different alphabet, and I only know a few phrases of Caith."

"Damn," muttered Velevir.

"But there are people in Laemist who can definitely read it," she said. "If it's important I could ask around? Try to find someone who can translate it for you?"

"Yes, please," I said. "We've been stuck on this for a month, there are these puzzle obelisks on the third floor, we were just guessing at random, trying to brute-force them; but if they're passwords, or phrases, or… or riddles or something, then the answers are probably in this book!"

I grinned up at my girlfriend and then pulled her down into a kiss.

I felt Velevir's emotions twist a little at the sight, but far less than they used to, and whatever traces of queerphobia she had were overshadowed by feeling more generalised embarrassment when Meria responded with extreme enthusiasm.

"OK, OK," I said, pulling away when Meria moved onto my jaw-line and then neck. "Merri! You're embarrassing Vel!"

"Hmph," huffed Meria. "You're coming back to Laemist with me tonight? Yes?"

"I could be persuaded," I said, winking at her and trying for suave seduction, but immediately provoking laughter. I scowled, and she gave me one last scritch behind the ear before going back to her work.

I exhaled and turned back to the book. "Caith; of course it's Caith," I said. "I'm such a dummy."

"To be fair, Nathan didn't get it either," said Velevir. "And he must have seen the text too." She closed her book and grabbed a pair of chopsticks. "So, what, you think this dungeon was controlled by the Caith?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" I said.

"They live in- well, tents, so you say," said Velvir.

I raised an eyebrow and pointed up at the canvas over our heads.

"Yes, but- but that's temporary," said Velevir. "Soon we'll have wood and stone. It's just… if they had civilisation, why give it up?"

"I don't…" I began, before trailing off as my mind shifted, of its own accord, drawing back to the bundle of images that I had been bombarded with, back when the dungeon had touched my mind.

A glittering city sitting on an azure bay, a host of terrible and monstrous and alien beings made of thunderclouds and lightning, burning fields, burning jungle, screaming Caith, time stretching out like an abyss, slumbering, slumbering until tiny minds tickling at my edges stirred me-

"I think… something terrible happened to them," I said slowly, putting my glasses back on and turning to look out of the tent flap into the stormy gloom, beyond which lay the bay. "The Caith's cities… they were destroyed, I think, by- by creatures: thunderclouds and lightning…"

Velevir paused, piece of squid halfway to her mouth. "How can you know that?"

"The dungeon…" I said, tapping my temple. "When it touched my mind, it was trying to communicate, show me… show me the past, I think. I didn't put it together before…"

My tail swished as I tried to use what insights I had manage to glean to reach for more, to piece the picture back together.

"I think there were once great cities on this bay, built by the Caith, and then… then creatures came for them, destroyed everything, and… and the dungeon is… afraid it will happen again?"

Had I sensed that in the vast mind? Fear? I couldn't be sure…

Velevir put the piece of squid in her mouth and chewed slowly. Then she sighed.

"Why do you always have to make everything more complicated, Charlie?"

"What?" I said defensively.

"You never make anything simpler," said Velevir. "Before I met you, I was just an adventurer running from… well, I wasn't looking back. But since meeting you? Now I'm an accessory to slave breaks, am in a town under threat of annihilation from both the Greenskins and Mercia—my people, and now apparently there is some terrible monsters of lightning and clouds 'coming for us' or something. I'm glad I met you, but all the same, it's not simple, is it?"

"That isn't- most of that isn't my fault!" I protested.

Velevir looked, and felt, unconvinced.

 

***

 

Interlude: Caroline

T.W. Deliberate Misgendering and general unpleasantness

Jalver was a rather handsome dhampir man, taller than Caroline's darling, Bell. He had short black hair that he seemed to be growing out, and a clean shaven face. He was also a silver-ranked adventurer, with herculean strength that meant that he could wear incredibly heavy armour as if it were cloth.

Caroline knew that while he had been involved in the illegal theft of property in Port Imperial, he had also had a rather public falling out with that horned, Luciferian half-breed Laera. Caroline was sure that she didn't have much in common with the radical, dangerous politics of the tall dhampir man, but she didn't need to to potentially use him in her plan to displace the Guildmistress.

"Good day sir," she said, giving him a proper curtsy.

Jalver looked up from his meal, one of the more overpowering spicy soups with noodles that the locals loved so much. They weren't at the Guildhall, but rather a small restaurant a little further up the hill which hadn't been damaged in the savage's attack, and was run by a rather creepy looking 'kobold' man who she’d seen lick his own eyeballs.

"Oh, hello… Caroline, right?" said Jalver. "You're Charlie's friend?"

Caroline's eyes twitched. "No, although I am from Earth."

"Earth?" he said. "Oh, Erde."

"No, I mean Earth," she said. "He is German, it's a different language."

"'He?' Who?"

"Charlie."

Jalver frowned deeply. "They prefer they."

"I don't care what he prefers," said Caroline, turning up her nose. "But that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Is this about taking the Tin exam?" he said, poking at his soup with his chopsticks. "Because I'm not the one to talk to—Ritah handles the organisation, I just proctor for it."

"No, it isn't that either," said Caroline, sitting forward. "I have some… concerns about the future of this town, and its leadership. Concerns I believe you might share."

Jalver stilled, a wad of noodles halfway to his mouth. Then he lowered them back into the bowl. Jalver studied her for several moments, before gesturing to the chair opposite. Caroline smiled at him and pulled out a chair, smoothing down the lovely green skirt that Bell said was 'too long to be fashionable' and sitting opposite him.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked neutrally.

"The… Guildmistress is leading us down a path that will destroy this town," said Caroline. "Surely you agree? I mean, she let those savages go after they- after they…" She took a deep breath, and paused for effect. "After they killed our friends."

Jalver's fist tightened, and there was a crack of wood as the chopsticks shattered. Caroline suppressed a grin. Oh yes, she had him now.

"What are you proposing?"

"I am proposing that the Guild act like a Guild for its members, and stop playing politics," said Caroline. "It's only business should be in running the dungeon delves. We need a Guildmistress, or… Guildmaster who can prioritise those things, and it is clear that that isn't Laera."

Jalver set aside the mangled remains of his chopsticks and drew another pair from the small box at one end of the table. His face was thoughtful, and she gave him space to process this for a few moments before speaking again.

"I'm sure that someone like you would be able to do a much better job," she said, flatteringly.

Jalver raised an eyebrow. "Me?" he said.

"Yes," she nodded. "I was speaking to Bell. He said that Silvers often run Guild Branches."

Jalver stared at her, clearly appraising her suggestion.

Caroline didn't actually think that he'd be a very good Guildmaster of the branch. He'd sided with that abomination in his slave break. But that was a problem for later. Right now, she needed to get Laera out of her position as Guildmistress, the rest could come later, preferably after Mercia had taken this town and imposed order on it.

"So, what do you say?" she asked.

Jalver's lip twitched and almost curled, and for a moment she thought he was going to react badly. But then he smiled.

"I think that you make some good points," he said, reaching for the jug of water and pouring her a cup. "Why don't you tell me some more about how you're planning on… changing the local leadership?" He pushed the cup towards her, and then made a motion to the waiter. "I assume you have more allies? Why don't you tell me all about them over a meal? My treat."

Caroline grinned widely. This was going excellently.

---

A.N. I renamed this story because very few people were clicking on it and I thought it might be the title. It's already doing better with that from what I've seen elsewhere, although I'm a bit sad--I liked the other title more, but apparently no one reads Shelley, smh.

Patreon, other stories in my profile :)

I have a new story going up on Scribblehub too, Marci of the Dreadfort. I will be releasing it at 1-2 chapters a day until it's caught up here, but it can be read up to Chapter 50 as a free member of my Patreon!