Chapter 446: Planar rift
Quite a few civilians showed interest in becoming scouts. At least at first.
But by the time Mason, Orlon, and Kiaan really started explaining what it looked like, and that the civilians wouldn’t always have player guards, interest…dwindled.
“You’ll usually have guards,” Mason said. “Just not always.”
“So what the hell do you do if there’s some man-eating beast?” asked one of the builders. Kiaan shrugged.
“You run. You hide. You do what animals do. Most predators lose interest if you’re fast and clever.”
The small gathering of mostly men muttered and exchanged disbelief, whispering this stuff should be left to players. In what became a growing, awkward silence, Mason was surprised to see the elven beastmaster, Kitya, in the enclave entrance.
“I was not sensitive to the beacon when I was tested as a child,” she said, stepping forward. “But, I would still like to help. Perhaps I can train again.”
Orlon frowned, obviously thinking it was a bad idea. Mason looked between the elves without comment, not sure about this testing and how precise it was, or if it was more about tradition than fact.
“Without access to the beacons, you would be unable to communicate,” said the master scout. “You could still chart and relay information on your return. But…” he shrugged, “you would be in terrible danger, and almost useless in war, when time was of the essence.”
Mason had his own reasons for not wanting the beastmaster to go out.
“Thank you, Kitya,” he said. “But I can’t risk you. As far as I know, you’re the only person with your unique training on the continent. I need you healthy and here with the animals. Trust me, that’s a big help. If you can get that wolf pack even a bit domesticated, I’ll give you…”
Mason blinked, reminded he still had court positions to hand out. He opened the House list and scrolled, grinning at the stupid position name. It made a lot more sense if you expanded the species, he supposed.
He selected Kitya and clicked the button, and the elf’s eyes glazed and widened.
“You…you honor me, lord. I only meant…I just wanted to be useful.”
“And you will be. As Master of Horse. Which, despite the name, I’m pretty sure means you’re officially in charge of all my House’s animals. And possibly hunting? I don’t really know. Talk to Haley or Carl. But I think you get some income, or something. To be honest I hardly know how my own city works.”
Kitya bowed and touched her fingers to her head in the elven way, coming up with a shy but wide smile as she glanced at the others. Mason decided ‘Operation Find More Scouts’ was swiftly coming to an end. Anyway, they had enough for now.
“Thanks everyone,” he said. “That’s it. Think about it. Feel free to talk to Orlon or Kiaan and look around later. There’s no pressure to do this.”
At least not yet, he thought.
When the civilians had gone (except for his girls, all of whom had come and now wandered around looking at the giant map as they waited), Mason took his scouts aside.
“I’m heading south. Hopefully a long ways. Have you and the, uh, goblin…merged your map knowledge, or whatever? Can I use the beacon to teleport somewhere specific?”
Orlon winced and glanced at Kiaan before meeting Mason’s eyes.
“Certainty is required to teleport safely, lord. We sorely lack this. If you were to attempt it and make a mistake…” the elf shrugged. “You might end up badly wounded. Or shunted to a planar realm.”
Mason clucked his tongue.
“Well. I heal. And can possibly plane walk. Though I’ve only ever tried the fey, and I’m not sure I’d like to just blindly test the theory that I could go anywhere else and come back. Is there anything ‘certain’ that’ll get me further than the great trees?”
Orlon nodded. “Many things change. But rarely great mountains. With your ability to fey walk, I suggest the range we call Methless, here. It will have survived the Doom, certainly.”
The men walked to the map. Mason did his best to keep his eyes on the terrain and not on Rosa, who was idly playing with the hem of her short skirt as she stood chatting with Haley and Lexi.
“Anything interesting around those mountains?” He temporarily won the battle with his eyes. “Or, you know, particularly terrifying?”
Orlon shrugged. “I don’t know what humans find interesting. But there should be an ancient city of your kind nearby. It might have something useful. Or ‘terrifying’. My people would avoid it.”
An ancient human city and a giant mountain? Seemed a reasonable start. Mason suspected he could just feywalk to it, but unless it ‘sang’ in some particularly mountain-y way, or the stag could guide him, he wouldn’t know exactly where to ‘exit’.
The fey didn’t look like the real world. He’d probably have to look at every step and try to figure out what he was seeing. And the exits only loosely resembled the physical world.
A wrong choice might pop him out across the continent. Though he supposed every exit ‘should’ be another entrance. There wasn’t anything to stop him from trying again and again. He didn’t think…
“Longshot question here, Orlon. Is there any reason I shouldn’t just jump in and out of the fey while I’m looking around? Are there any…” he shrugged. “Rules?”
The scout put a hand to his chin. “First, I salute you if you can do such a thing. For my kind, at least, the difficulty of teleportation is in creating a portal. It takes considerable mana or energy, not to mention knowledge, to open a pathway.”
Mason knew he used a bit of mana when he Feywalked, but it didn’t seem like much. He had the sudden intuition that he might be able to take others, even without Ayet’s help, if he tried expending some more.
“I’m pretty sure I can do it easily enough,” he said. “As long as it’s just me.”
Orlon nodded. “Then the only consideration is the nature of the plane itself. The fey has ‘rules’, as you say. As does every other plane. But I’m afraid that’s about all I know. You would have to speak with someone more knowledgeable of the arcane arts. The head of the council of Shariss would be best. But perhaps the Lady…that is, your mother in law, Ayet, could help you.”
Mason damn near bolted for the elven woman currently in his house. His girls were here and could probably be distracted and delayed…
He mentally clubbed himself, trying to internally smash his supersized libido like he was playing whack-a-mole. This was about the game. They would actually need to talk. Or at least talk first…
“Maybe next time.” Mason cleared his throat, ignoring the confused expression of the scouts. “For now I’ll just teleport to the beacon. Is there anything I can do to communicate with you? And vice versa? I realize I’m not technically a ‘scout’.”
Orlon smiled. “You are the master of our house, lord. Already Kiaan and I can use the beacon to send you messages.”
The elf’s eyes glazed, the beacon pulsed with dull light, and words like a damn text message scrolled across Mason’s eyes.
Orlon. Third day of the moon’s cycle. Urgency: none. For a new scout these messages must be short. Simple words. A sentence or two. But an old creature like me can send all kinds of bothersome, and elaborate musings.
Mason grinned. “How do I answer back?”
“Unfortunately, you can’t.” The elf quirked his head. “At least, an elven lord couldn’t. Not unless he was trained in the ways of a scout. Perhaps there are human solutions you might employ to solve this problem, my lord. But I don’t know them.”
Kiaan winced and practically stuck out his tongue in concentration. The beacon pulsed again.
Kiaan. Day?? Urgency: ?? Orlon make look. Easy. Not.
The scout let out a sigh of relief and shrugged.
“Presumably, I will improve, Patron.”
Orlon grinned and touched a hand to his temple with a bow towards Kiaan.
“The young master is a quick learner. To gain competence with the beacon would take an elven scout years. And he will find that distance only increases the difficulty. It may not be useful in the short term for anyone but myself. I understand you’re sending some warriors to explore. Would you like me to accompany some of them?”
Mason shook his head. “I can’t risk you. Anyway I want you here. If there’s any risk to the settlement, your job is to spam me with messages.” When the elf quirked an eyebrow Mason cleared his throat. “You’re to get my attention as fast as possible.”
“I understand, lord. And I have no great desire to return to the wilds of this land. But I will at least patrol the borders of Nassau, if you wish.”
Mason nodded, almost thanking God the scout had survived his journey. He hadn’t realized how valuable he was, and it occurred to him then he had dozens of elven citizens with who knew what other useful abilities.
But he supposed he had the opportunity to get to know them all a lot better in the days ahead…
He took another mental hammer to his libido and let out a breath.
“OK. Well let’s get this show on the road.” He glanced at his girls and winced. “I’m just going to have a few words with my people, then we’ll do test number one.”
Orlon bowed his head, and Kiaan stepped beside Mason, following him a little ways away from the other scout before lowering his voice.
“Apologies, patron, but…might have a word, first?” Mason nodded, and the man licked his lips. “I am pleased with my place in your settlement, and the confidence you show in me. But I still desire a bride. If anything, my interest in that bride being elven has only increased. Could this be done quickly?”
Mason felt himself freeze a little. He’d made promises to the man months ago, and not only that, but Kiaan was one of the most useful citizens in Nassau. He hesitated, brain running through some line of nonsense before he banished it away. That wasn’t how Mason intended to lead. He met Kiaan’s eyes.
“I can ask Naya right now, if you like, and suggest it as their lord. But I won’t force them. If you have someone in mind you should go and…court her a little. You understand? Might be easier on all of us. These elves are pretty skittish around humans. So be gentle.”
“Yes, patron.” Kiaan smiled, but it seemed a bit nervous. Apparently the competent man was finally out of his element.
Mason winced, knowing he had say the rest.
“And…you need to know something. These elves…they’re not…they can’t have children. It’s partly why they’re here. They hoped it might make them…” He shrugged. “But it’s more complicated. There’s no obvious…”
Jesus. How did you tell a man the only way you knew to make his potential bride fertile was to bang her first?
“…we haven’t figured out how to do it easily. Not yet,” he finished.
Kiaan nodded. “I see. Thank you for telling me. Still, I will speak with the woman, then…” He let out a breath like he was considering how to climb a mountain. “I will ask you for assistance. If required.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Mason was bit amused the man seemed more daunted by this then when he’d been asked to explore an alien world on his own for months. But he supposed he understood. They probably weren’t so different.
He glanced at the women all obviously waiting for him across the room, at least two probably hoping for some personal goodbye and assurances that he’d miss them terribly.
He clapped a hand on Kiaan’s shoulder and took a few steps towards them before a dull red light seemed to fill the room. He turned and raised a questioning brow at Orlon, but the elf was staring into the beacon with his hands raised like he was trying to feel the warmth of a fire.
“My lord,” he said, looking up. “It’s a warning system. There’s some kind of…planar energy. Teleportation magic. I don’t…” he shrugged. “You should get the councilwoman. I don’t understand.”
Mason’s trivial problems vanished behind the possibility of crisis. He turned to run for his house as the system text scrawled.
[Phase 3 event initiated. Planar rift. Please leave the immediate area if you do not wish to take part. Rewards will be received based on individual, group, and House contribution. Good luck with your ongoing survival!]
Mason glanced at his girls.
“Get all the elves and civilians inside the Nexus beacons,” he said, looking at Haley. “No exceptions. Go now.” He pointed at Kitya. “Get the wolves freed. I want them out and wandering Nassau.”
Without another word, he raced out onto the ground level to look for the danger, hoping his players were all on their way to the walls.