Book 4, Chapter 61: What’s Happening with the Beastfolk?
I wasn’t taking any chances this ti. Marco hadn’t shown himself to be the most stable of individuals, and Failith had tried to ‘ambush’ during the Tender Sprite Stampede, so I was doing this in ho territory.
Naly in our big dining hall underneath Cascadia, under the watchful eyes of Annie’s portrait.
And with Balin, Kirk, and every other combat capable person who knew about my status as a Chosen Catalyst. I wasn’t getting anywhere near Marco without a few layers of protection. Oh, and Aqua was standing behind to knee in the ribs if soone was lying.
Failith gave Annie’s painting a wary glance as he nibbled on so beer basted ribs. The patches of grey in the ambassador’s fur were showing signs of going fully white, and his nose had a dry matte look. I wasn’t a judge of beastfolk health, but he looked tired. If antlers could droop, his would. And I was pretty sure he was wearing the sa suit I’d seen him in at the rodeo.
For his part, Marco was devouring his al, not even sparing or anyone else a second look. He looked… a lot gaunter then I rembered. His spotted fur was disheveled, and the tal tips of his horns were looking tarnished. His armour and weapon still looked well cared for, though.
“Thank you for the al.” Failith said when we were all done munching on Bran’s delicious fare. “Ouhr embassy has not had much gold to spare for luxuries like food these days.”
“What, yer not gonna wax on ‘how dare you eat such delicious food while my people starve’ this ti?” I asked sardonically, giving Marco a stare.
Failith coughed, and Marco muttered, “I… am sorry, Master Brewer Roughtuff for my poor behaviour. That was before – “
“That was before you, apparently, really really needed .” I growled, my vision turning red. I pulled back on my red rage and tried to focus on the now. “So my first impression of you is NOT GREAT.”
Failith jumped in, and I could feel him using an Ability. “We do truly apologize, Lord Roughtuff. Please understand that Marco has been under a great deal of stress as the one sent by blessed Aaron to save us from our current predicant.”
*Bing!*
Milestone Used
[Unbending] has prevented [Calm Situation].
I bristled at the Ability use, but my Ambassador training had taught that using a calming ability wasn’t a faux pas in political circles. We all wanted to be in full control of our emotions. I took a deep breath.
“Fine. I guess I can accept being pissed off about being thrown into so God’s little idea of fun,” I grouched. “So how about we try this again from tha start. I’m only willing to do this, mind, ‘cause ya helped my brother in tha Monster Stampede.”
Marco had actually been instruntal, according to adventurers who’d been in the palace. He’d been an absolute dervish protecting the door to Cascadia and he’d personally led a contingent of beastfolk to clear the way when Balin and company had returned after closing the rift. He specialized in lightning magic and the longsword. Of all the Chosen Catalysts I’d t so far, he was the only who seed to be fully combat oriented.
Marco gave a lopsided smile, his scars keeping his face stiff. “Thank you, Lord Roughtuff. I am Marco, son of the Aurelez tribe, and leader of the rebellion sweeping the Western Kingdoms. I was once Marcus Aurelius, mage-king of Vindobona on the planet Erta.”
I blinked. “Marcus AURELIUS??”
“Is the na familiar to you?” Failith asked curiously, New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on Novᴇl_Fire(.)net
I nodded. “It’s a person from my old world. He was an emperor of one of our most famous civilizations.”
Marco gave a sideways head look that imdiately made think of a dog. “How odd. He was the first King of my country. We are a small country, but proud, and a powerhouse of trade. And he founded it from nothing, rising from a simple bandit to warlord to eventually found ouhr nation! He ca, he saw, he conquered, as we say!”
I twitched. “Veni, vidi, vici?”
Marco’s eyes suddenly grew wide. “Nooooooo….” He held his face in his hands. “It cahn’t be, not in my world too.”
I had a sudden vision of Joan of Arc, Liu Bei, and Johnny Appleseed. Of towering personas who’d risen out of nowhere to affect the fate of nations. I felt a similar pang of dread to what Marco was undoubtedly feeling right now.
“Do you think… the Gods in other worlds play a similar ga,” I said hesitantly.
“How could they not?? We had Gods back on Erta, I myself was a follower of the Goddess Aliza of rchantry. All this ti here and I never even thought – arrghhhh!!!”
I shared his agony. Barck had said there were Gods in our world as well, so… how many historical figures were actually from other worlds? Did the governnts know? Was this an even bigger conspiracy theory than sasquatch!?
Did it even matter? I sighed. “Well, we can consider ourselves comrades in arms then. I was Peter on Earth and Peter here. I was a vintner and brewer, and still am, though I started here as a prisoner. King ta slave and then freedom fighter is a bit of a step down too, eh?”
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“You don’t know the half of it,” Marco growled. “But I’m not here to discuss my past, or yours. We need your help.”
“Yes, so Ambassador Failith said. But I’m lost as ta why ya need . He’s tha powerhouse and one-ti king. I’m just a brewer.”
“The problem, Lord Roughtuff,” Failith said. “Is that the Coalition is not united. We are a loose collection of families and tribes that are fractious at best, and in competition at the worst. We currently have no higher power that binds us together as your Kings do.”
I pointed at Marco. “What about him? Wasn’t that the whole point?”
Marco shook his head, and Failith continued. “He was instruntal in breaking thousands out from slavery, many of them now the warriors that serve as the backbone of our coalition. But what kept us united were our [Shamans]. They were a unique Specialization that was able to read the heart of the plains, ld the Spirit, alter the weather, and pass down knowledge. They were also fearso in battle, and led our tribes to victory after victory against all aggressors. For as far back as we can rember, the [Shamans] were the soul of our people."
Here tears ca to his eyes. “But we were betrayed. Two hundred years ago, during the Midsumr Festival, when the Shamans all gathered to discuss our future, the dishonourable Daggerfall tribe poisoned the feast, and fell upon those assembled. At the sa instant, the Alliance of Western Kingdoms marched upon the plains, scything our disorganized tribes like so much wheat. The rest you know – many of our people were turned into slaves, and the tribes beca little more than prey for the human monsters to feast upon.”
I didn’t say anything for a while. The atmosphere was heavy, and even Kirk shuffled his feet, discomfitted.
Eventually I spoke up. “I’m sorry about everything that’s happening to your people. I empathize, I really do. But I’m afraid yer losin’ . What does any of this with the [Shamans] have to do with ? Can’t you just go… get more? Do you need Gold? Supplies? I’m happy ta help, and Annie probably would be too.”
Aqua made so agreeable noises from behind , which I took as affirmation of my estimation of Annie.
Failith shook his head. “No. [Shaman] is a Specialization of [Mystic], and there’s a specific Milestone called [Lesser Soulsight] required to access it. It's a guaranteed [Milestone] obtained by taking part in a ritual while drinking a special ad called Spiritual Nectar. Thee thod to make the Nectar was lost with thee death of the Shamans. Ouhr hope is that you, a talented brewer from another world, wouhld be able to recreate it.”
I nodded. “I know how to make ad. Honey Wine. The original alcohol. I used to make it in college. I certainly know all the techniques for making it. But… brew a specific ad that I’ve never even tasted before? What was in it?”
Failith sunk into his chair. “That’s the problem. We don’t know. Neither the ingredients, nor the thod. We ca to the elves hoping they would have records of the ingredients, but either they do not, or are not willing to involve themselves in ouhr war.”
“Hmm… I have an Ability that will tell tha makeup of a drink. Do ya have any fer to sample?” I asked. “Assumin’ I’m willing to help.”
I actually had a lot of ad left over from [Barck’s Cellar], but a quick use of [Flash of Insight] told that there wasn’t a ‘Spiritual Nectar’ amongst them. “Or do you know what it looks like?”
Failith shook his head. “No. We have [Artisans] with similar Abilities, but there is none available to drink. And I’ve never seen it myself, though Mystic Isen has. He’s one of the eldest in the tribes, a Specialised [Ancient Mystic] who was actually an apprentice of the old Shamans. He sacrificed his chance to beco a [Shaman] by taking a Specialisation that extended his life, and he now guides the current generation of hopeful [Mystics].”
“And that’s all?”
“We also know it was colloquially called ‘Fire of the Soul’ by the [Shamans]. But yes, that’s all.”
“An interesting conundrum.” I pondered. “Y’know. Master Roro also uses ‘Soul’ as a na fer his wine. Have ya tried askin’ him?”
“Yes,” Marco butted in. “I asked him at the ball. He said that he ahctually did get the idea for wine from the tribes, and his thod closely resembles the thod of ad making. But he was unaware of the ingredients. Or wouldn’t share.”
“Roro’s pretty open. If he said he didn’t know, he probably didn’t know.” I sat back in my chair and considered the pair of them. “What would this entail doing?”
“Co to our Embassy in Grandia, where our adery is situated,” Failith said, his tone cajoling. “Look over their work, and see what you can figure out. We’re happy to pay in gold, provide lodging, food, and whatever else your heart would desire. And if you are unable to help… we’re no further ahead or behind than before.”
I considered it. “Grandia… that’s the Free City of Adventurers on the East Coast, right? The Jewel of the Sea?”
Failith nodded eagerly. “Yes. It is a beautiful place. Perhaps you could treat it as a vacation?”
I stared at the pair as they sat resolutely, their backs straight, but eyes full of fear.
From everything I’ve heard the beastfolk were treated as little more than – well – beasts, in the Western Kingdoms, and unlike so people I’d heard tell of who traveled to other worlds, I was still staunchly against slavery in all its forms.
And all they wanted was for to try to make so ad with their experts? That actually sounded like fun. And Kirk had been talking up Grandia since forever. He’d probably be a great guide.
“Mmm… the Western Kingdoms probably don’t want this to succeed. Any chance of [Ninjas]?” I shivered, rembering long knives in the dark of Copperpot’s factory.
Failith shook his head. “We’ve been trying for decades. They have long since dismissed ouhr attempts. And… well, you’ll see. They are right to not worry about us making much, even if you manage.”
Aqua didn’t smack in the ribs, so he was probably telling the truth. Okay, no ninjas. That was good!
“Still, I’ll need to bring Team Brightstar with . And I’ll need full access to all yer supplies and people. Including this Mystic Isen. And don’t worry about buyin’ food or anythin’, I’ll cover my own costs and even donate so to tha cause.”
Failith’s eyes lit up and his relief was palpable. “Oh!”
“Then let's work out the specifics,” I said, leaning forward on the table and tenting my fingers.
*Bing!*
New Quest: A Spirited Drink
The beastfolk of the Northern Plains have a special order, can you fill it?
Spiritual Nectar: 0/1 Crafted
Rewards: [Friend: Beastfolk]
Do you accept?
Yes / No
The quest was in another strange font, indicating another God. Aaron this ti, maybe?
Y’know what? So ad, so sun, and so sumr fun?
And helping people in need?
That sounded perfect. I’d been wanting to get away anyway.
I accept!
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