Michael Chatfield
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Ilus Rises: Chapter 14
🕑 Added 2024-02-07 12:00:02 +0000 UTCChapter 14:
“That’s a lot of Krev’s people,” Crixim muttered.
His first mate grunted. He wasn’t a man of many words though he looked out for the good of the crew. He’d been quiet most of the day since they’d headed back for Misty Cove.
People have all kidns of reactions to nearly dying.
Zilthor had dealt with the inspectors, a quick pass of gold and two had jumped back on their ship and headed back to Misty Cove.
Crixim looked back, the masts of the ships hiding the sea beyond. Thalios and Spindle were well back. Zilthor took two of their boats to speed Silver Oar back to Misty Cove. He’d also pulled nearly half of their remaining crew. It seemed a bit much to Crixim, but he was the captain, not the owner.
The boats pulled them up to the dock, they were much further up and in the nicer parts of the dock.
The carried lines with them, passing them off to the dock workers that ran the lines into machinery, ten men at a crank pulled in the five lines, drawing them closer to the dock.
Crixim looked at the dock. It would cost them a pretty penny to dock here, Spindle would need some good work. Thalios had rounded up the mast’s remains and strapped it to the side of his ship.
Few mages that know how to work with wood and she’ll be good to go.
He caught movement on the docks. People moved out of the way as Krev and a group of his inspectors walked up towards the berth.
He was a large man, built like those that worked the docks, though it had softened with his dockmaster position. Lord of the pier. He was stronger than most of the other dockmasters and had his finger in every pie possible. His face was handsome, with a smile that veered to the sneer side of things. As if the small people around him amused him.
“He’s going to get some gold out of Zilthor’s hide,” Crixim grunted. That was sure to put him in a pissy mood-Crixim stiffened.
“What you think you’re doing Greary?” He growled.
“I got three kids and a wife. I need this job Captain. Know you wouldn’t be the kind that would go along with this job. I don’t like it myself, but I get a bonus and a promotion out of it. I work it right and I could captain that great big ship,” Greary said.
“The hell you talking about man?” Crixim growled.
The stairs creaked as Zilthor walked up on deck, two of his toughs behind him. Crixim scanned the deck, several of his crew had a knife at their backs.
“What you think you’re doing Zilthor?”
“We’re going to be expanding a bit in the near future and we didn’t want any of the foam holding on. I’ve been finding your performance lacking in the last couple of weeks,” Zilthor let out a heavy sigh. “So I’m going to be seeking a new captain. If you could get him off of my ship. I have to greet Krev.”
He’d just come up to gloat as he stepped down to the main deck, cackling.
The two tough’s smiles spread as they stepped forward, grabbing Crixim by a shoulder each.
“Ah, come on captain—oh well guess you ain’t that now are yah?” One said as if surprised. Hauling him towards the stairs.
The other laughed. “Nah, you ain’t none better than a jobless shit.”
They sniggered at something as he took the first step down. The push sent him flying, he curled up, hitting the deck with his shoulder, protecting his head.
Two thuds hit the deck, their cackling reaching new heights. “Ah, watch your step there captain.”
One grabbed his arm and hauled him up.
“Probably best if you didn’t step on another ship yah know? Unsteady like that.” The other suckered him in the side, making him grunt. The first elbowed him in the face.
Crixim spat blood as they hauled him bodily from the deck.
He felt a swinging motion and they threw him down the gangplank. A few other laughs followed him off the ship.
Crixim spat out blood. Nose is probably broken. His arm and side hurt something fierce, he must’ve clipped his knee on something too.
“Captain,” Caelum said, moving to him.
“Move aside lad,” One of the older hands, Urie said, his voice slow and comforting.
Crixim blinked, looking around at the crowd, other members of his own crew.
Several stowage bags were thrown, hitting the deck. They grabbed up the bags many cursing as their savings and valuables were missing.
Crixim focused on his hearing, bending the air to listen to Krev and Zilthor.
“Zilthor, word reached my ears about a rather interesting claim,” Krev said, his words light but with an underlaying warning.
“Ah Krev, I’ve long been looking for something for us to work on together. I’ve been done a large indiscretion. You see two trophies, ships were stolen from me and my crew.”
“Ships, you say.” Krev’s voice doubtful.
“We fought against a group of pirates and came out victorious, then when we made to claim our prizes this other ship swept in and stole them from us. Stored them away in some sort of magic,” Zilthor affected as if he was pained, but there was note of humor under it all, reading as fake as a sand covered copper being called gold.
Urie helped Crixim up as his stomach churned, listening to the conversation between the two men.
“They probably said that I paid for their dock fees!”
“Oh,” Krev said, interest laden in that one word.
Zilthor jumped on it. “I fear that even the ship they say is their own is nothing but a lie. What ship can only be crewed by four people! Preposterous!”
Krev laughed, a dark and ugly thing, without a hint of mirth. “Ah tis serious indeed, we’ll have to act quickly to secure this ill-begotten ship and cargo. I’m honoured by your trust in my own services,” Krev chuckled the sound of hands clasping together. “Round up your lads. They left the ship without a watch and headed into the city. Idiots.”
“We’re ready now,” Zilthor said.
Krev laughed again, the two man clasping hands.
“Best we get away from here Captain,” Urie said.
Crixim nodded and stood up on his own fully.
“Thank you Urie, come on, lets get away from this all.” He glanced at the others around him. The hard workers, the ones that he’d hired on. Loyal and trustworthy.
They gathered up their bags and passed them out to one another. Urie walked over to the others, taking two bags.
He let out a sigh. A few bruises and cuts weren’t much, other than hurting like an absolute bastard. They would all be recognized and he needed to get a message out to the crew of Mesurial.
Crixim’s guts turned and burned at the injustice of it all. They’d be dead without them and Zilthor only cared about the fucking money.
“Caelum, head off to the Rusted Anchor, ask Millie if she knows where the crew of the Mesurial is. Find them and warn them that Zilthor and Krev are aiming to steal their ships for them. They have to go to the lord and show their papers before coming back to the dock. When you’ve done that, find me at the Rusted Anchor.”
Caelum looked at him.“Aye Captain.”
“Good lad.” He waved him off.
Urie walked up to him and held up a bag.
“Thanks,” Crixim took it and moved down the dock, away from the inspectors and dockhands under Krev’s pay.
“What now?” Urie asked when they were far enough down. Caelum had disappeared already.
Good lad.
“We’ll head to the Rusted Anchor to put our heads down. I’ll pay for the lads lodging if they want it. I’m going to see if we can help out the Mesurial crew.”
“Alright, we’re with you” Urie said.
“Might be messy.”
“They saved our lives, they don’t deserve this. Zilthor is more snake and scales than any honor,” Urie grunted.
A few others in earshot added their own noises of agreement.
Crixim’s chest swelled, it felt good to have people on his side. “Alright lads.”
***
“This the place?” Valter asked.
Mya’s head was sideways. “I was hoping that it would look better from this angle.” She went back to looking at it straight on.
The building, well if something that structurally unsound could be called a building, was at the end of a big alleyway, just too small for a cart to make it through.
A mast stuck out at a cock-eyed angled, boards nailed to it haphazardly. Pieces of a ship bow jutted out to one side, held in place with doors.
The hodgepodge of wooden things in the shape of a building was festooned with lights of all kinds. Ornamental, lantern, crystal, a hundred types and a hundred colors.
Mya blinked, the lights creating a starry burnt-in scene on her eyes.
“Though it was on Roberts’ map.” She shrugged and kept walking.
A man stepped out of the front door of the building, ruffled slightly but with a big smile on his face as he held a box close to his chest.
He eyed them suspiciously and hurried down the alleyway, all but sprinting as he passed them.
Valter let out a sigh. “Always see the best places.” He muttered under his breath.
“What’s a life if it ain’t interesting!” Mya opened up the door took a step and nearly did a round about turn.
There were piles of things scattered around the place. Shelves replicated the ‘how the fuck is this standing’ design.
“What fucking paint was the builder of this place huffing?” Valter said.
“I think he skipped the paint and went right to taste testing Desari’s alchemy kit,” Mya said conspiratorially. Though her eyes were pulled to several items. They were in piles, but they were in good condition and they were rare.
There were some weapons, though more were tools and gear.
A pen and paper kit that would work even underwater.
Lanterns that would charge off of sunlight. Brushes that would sand and apply a coating as long as it was fed mana. Map tables with varying different abilities.
People were going through different piles, pulling out various gear.
Rope whirred through a pulley as a man descended through rafters, stepping off of the bosun chair as if it was a step—before it shot back up and away.
He wore a vest covered in pockets of all kinds. A set of glasses upon his head with all kinds of lenses.
“Hello hello! How can I help you?” He was younger, his skin as pale as parchment, slightly hunched with wild eyes.
“Looking for Cregor?” Mya smiled.
“That is I! Who would send you to me though?” he rubbed his chin in thought.
“Old man Roberts—”
“Ah!” He threw up his hands, before pointing at her. “No spoilers, it ruins all the fun of figuring out the mysteries! Ah well I won’t be able to crack that one again.” He clapped his hands on his legs. “I’m guessing that you have a varied assortment of items that are not weapons or raw materials knowing his type.”
“Cregor, fifteen for this!” One of the scavengers held up something.
“You know its worth seventy two and I won’t be taking lower!” He didn’t even turn around.
“Seventy-two!” The other man affected outrage. “I’d barely think it would do sixteen!”
“Seventy six,” Cregor said mildly.
“Seventy-two is fair,” The scavenger nodded, nothing but agreement.
Cregor whistled, waving to Mya and Valter, taking them to a table.
A metal crow creaked as it dropped a book on the table.
“Writ?” Cregor turned to the scavenger, navigating the piles of items.
“I got it.”
Cregor pushed it to the side. The crow shifted on the beam it perched as if in frustration.
He reached the table, nodded to Mya and Valter then tossed out gold bars.
They disappeared before they could hit the table.
Some storage device.
“Pleasure doing business,” The scavenger man said, putting away a pair of appraising glasses.
“Try and bring something interesting next time you come!”
“I got something that’ll turn your head inside out,” The man grinned. Cregor shared in it and rubbed his hands together.
“T’raah!” He turned and weaved through the piles.
“Ah, so what mysteries do you have today?” Cregor asked.
“I could show you my ledger but I feel you’d be more interested without the information.” Mya raised an eyebrow.
“Most dearly.”Cregor pressed his fingertips together.
Mya nodded and started taking out items, putting them on the table.
Cregor set upon them as if they were a rich feast and he was a starved man.
“Amulet to talk to sea creatures and breath underwater.
“Cursed cutlass, this one will steal a person’s strength. Dangerous. Probably made out in Merridal by the forging technique used. Very nice.”
Valter nodded with him.
Cregor put it down and ran a finger over some navigation tools.
“Quite the collection of pieces. You’ve got one full set and then several sets made by different manufacturers. The last owners knew their value but didn’t use them. The kind to stay in the shallows,” He grimaced. “Thank you for ridding the seas of such filth.”
Mya tilted her head in acknowledgement.
His hand moved over items, muttering to himself, his other hand flicking through lenses on his glasses. He paused, leaning forward and flicking lenses bending over a pouch.
“Oh this is a little beauty I didn’t notice it before.” He undid the pouch carefully and dumped out the coins onto the table. There were several coppers, silvers and gold coins, as well as coins made from different stones, one that looked like it was formed of ice, another from crystal.
“Gold, silver and copper rule, but there are many places, groups that use different coinage in lieu of metals. Various planes, schools of thought, some cities.” He used a finger to spread them out. “These here are beauties, a diverse collection, going for any coin that is not the norm. Very nice.”
Valter leaned forward when he looked at different forged and crafted items, talking about the manner in which they were created.
Mya let him go through the hoard.
“Seventy even?” Cregor asked as he put down a necklace with shimmering veins of blue.
“Works with me,” Mya said.
“Perfect, Writ or bar?”
“Bar please,” Mya said.
He turned and held out a hand, palm down.
Mya held out her hand palm up, bars of gold dropped from his storage ring. Mya captured it in hers. A golden blur between them.
He clasped his hand and pulled it back.
“Seventy even,” Mya nodded her head. The lad was quirky, but… well it might not be anything, though seeing new things was always an experience.
“Well, we also have something that’s… well it might be rarely seen here. I bet it would be,” Mya looked at Valter. He turned his head to the side in question.
“The sword? The big one.”
He raised an eyebrow. Mya moved to the side, waving him towards the table.
Cregor focused on him. Valter drew out the blade, the room heating up as Cregor drew in a breath, flipping up lenses and others down as Valter placed it on the table.
“Oh, this this! This is spectacular. Oh the running here, this is… It is Elemental craft. A Fire planes there is no doubt!” His words came faster and stumbled over one another. “Though this use of curving script it is not from our fire plane! This is from another fire plane. Another world entirely! We have thought that there are such things and there are stories, but this is a fact!” He movd his hands over the blade, shaking due to excitement instead of the heat coming from the blade.
“This is an exceptional weapon. Hammered into form and inscribed by two different elementals. Infused with their strength and power. Dimantium forged with heavy fire attribute mana. The workmanship is extremely well done. On formation and inscription. I would think that the elementals that did this took the weapon within their own body to create it. The blade is incredibly smooth and the curves are not filed down. No it was melded into this shape,” He shook his head.
“Using their own bodies?” Valter asked.
“They are interconnected with fire. Some of them can return to that state—others may have never left it. They can draw in materials and refine them with as fine control as we use our hands, maybe even more. There is no known limit to an elemental’s lifespan as long as they are not killed.”
“So they put this into their bodies, melt it together into a weapon. You said he hammered it?”
“Using will one can form mana into a hammer. You’d require special tools to infuse mana in your blows. It is why elementals can create some of the greatest weapons, armors and items. They have an instinctive understanding. This, it is just exquisite.
Boys and their toys. Mya looked around the room at various interesting items as they went painstakingly through the process that would have refined out the materials, forged and infused—wait what was that?
“As you start getting into the higher level materials, yeah you’ve got to infuse it. Now you can do that with other materials as a medium, or you can use your own mana. Though it would be best to use the mana of the person that would wield it. Everyone has their own signature mana and the item made with that will increase the power flow and possibly even the enchantments when used by the intended user.”
“I read about that some but I wasn’t sure what it meant,” Valter rubbed his chin. “It would highly attune the item to the user.”
“Exactly, its power will be at least five to ten percent weaker in another person’s hands. Though then there is the rarity.” Cregor digressed.
Valter nodded. “Few people can even produce a dimantium weapon, let alone one that is infused with someone’s specific mana.”
“Correct. There’s really forge dimantium which is a terrible waste of the material in my opinion,” Cregor’s tone turned to that of lecturer, seeing Valter’s interest. “Then there is mana infused, done with reagents usually, it can also be done by the forger. The last and the best is mana attunement, where the final user’s mana is imbued into the item with the forger creating it at the same time.”
“What if you were to infuse your mana into say a mana stone and then into the item, would that work to create attunement as well?” Valter asked.
“Yes!” Cregor genuinely pleased to share his information with another. “It is the best way to do it if the creator and user can’t be in the same place, or if you need a lot of mana. Though it will take time as there is mana loss from the user to the storage devices.”
Valter looked over the table, checked on Mya and the space. “Mind if we clear off the table?”
“Certainly!” Cregor whistled, crows descended from the rafters and he threw things up, the caught them to sweep away, dropping them into piles or landing on racks.
He stored some things away and then delicately moved the sword to the side.
Valter took out the fire elemental’s armor in sections. Cregor flipped lenses again, shifting around the armor.
“Same techniques as the sword, same forger and runic. It’s a piece of art. Very large. Made for a fire elemental, powerful one.” He ran his hands over the surface with a reverenace. “I won’t be able to purchase this, this is just.” He opened and closed his hands. “Its incredible. Thank you for sharing with me.”
“Its always nice to share with someone that appreciates it,” Valter smiled and stored away the sword and the armor.
“Thank you,” Cregor bowed his head.
“Well it was time we were headed to the bank and back to our friends,” Mya said. “In the future might I reference people to you?”
“Certainly, and sorry, but your names?” Cregor asked.
“Mya and Valter.”
“Mya and Valter,” Cregor repeated. “Very well, yes I would be interested in others you send my way.” He smiled.
