Ah, winter. The air is crisp, the sno-RP INA SPOILER!
Urist Gigathon, Gigaguard captain, marched across the heathery hills. Five rocketeers marched behind him. They were going for one last raid against the humans quarry- just to stock up on supplies. The Megadwarves knew when they were not wanted.
He shook his head. Half a year ago, they had gone to investigate the human settlement, and the paranoid villagers had shot at them. Just because they were three meters tall! Height discrimination, will it never end? Obviously they had prevented them from causing casualties, but a few weeks later, the metal things had attacked them. And they hurt. So now the megadwarves were on the move again. The drawbridge atomizers were running, the waterwheels spun, the gate of very-fast movement was nearing opening.
Urist stopped. Before him stood a shimmering white wall, rising a mere meter from the ground. It stretched into the distance to his left and right, curving away slightly. It had not been there yesterday.
He poked it. The wall rippled, but stood firm. Urist shrugged and leapt over. The rest of the troup followed. A nice day for a raid, he thought. Just a hint of a breeze had just sprung up, and the sun shone in the pure blue sky. Of course, it was always nice weather here. They walked on for a few minutes. The wind was blowing quite firmly now; the rockets would need adjusting. They trooped on regardless.
“Quite a wind today, sir!”, a rocketeer said.
“Yes. But not enough to stop me” he replied.
A few minutes later, the rocketeer spoke again.
“Are you sure it won’t stop us?”
“Of course it won’t. It’s just a gust, it’ll be over soon”
“It might be magic again, sir”
Urist spun round to face the rocketeer.
“Alright then, wise guy. Here’s what we do: stay here for five minutes. If the wind gets worse, it’s magic, and we pull back”
They sat in the heather for a while. The wind started to die down.
“See? Now shut up and march”
But as soon as they set a single footstep towards the aviator’s lands, the wind picked up again. They kept their mouths shut, but after a few more minutes, it became clear to everyone that this was no ordinary gale. But Urist would not give up, and they pressed on against winds which threatened to blow them over, until each step was a battle.
Finnaly the winds grew so strong they could not move without being blown backwards. Urist roared, and tried to jump forwards. He sprang up into the air, and was flung backwards at speed, coming down a hundred meters away. In response to this victory, the wind blew harder, picking the rocketeers off their feet, dumping them around their leader.
“Slightly magical then” one of them groaned.
They picked themselves up, and fled. The wind chased them till they crossed the shimmering wall.
“Screw supplies. This world is messed up. To the portal!”
Gnuk twiddled his thumbs. Wait, he still had to... no, he’d done that. Didn’t Yiop want some... no, that was tomorrow. Or was it yesterday? Maybe he should... no, the village needed him. He needed drugs. Alcohol? No... did they have tobacco? He had no idea; the last few months were blurred.
A knock at the door.
“Yergle?” he mumbled.
The door opened, and a face appeared. “Excuse me, mister president?” it said.
“Wassat? Presiwhatnow?”-Gnuk shook his head-“Oh... Hoiral... I’m sorry, I’m slightly... confused”
Hoiral stepped into the room, and sat down opposite the desk.
“I understand that you haven’t left your rooms for a month, sir” she said, worry in her voice.
“Haven’t I? The great spell has taken quite some time, true, but surely I’ve been out more often than that”
Hoiral shook her head.
“You left your rooms once, a month ago, to visit Turak. Before that you had remained up there for two weeks. Two weeks is average time between your leavings since you started the spell.”
“Oh dear...” Gnuk sighed. “I could really use some coffee”
“Perhaps you should come down. The inn sells coffee.”
“Yes... I probably should.” He stood up.
Hoiral stood up too; motioned to the door. Gnuk nodded, and followed her unsteadily.
“Have you heard of inhalers, sir?” she asked as they descended the stairs.
“Um... tobacco?”
“No, although there is a resemblance. A relaxative, without the fire. I’ve made a few dimes selling it to the Astroligans. And it comes in handy when piloting the balloon.”
“Wait, balloon? What happened to the glider?”
“It retired months ago. We now have a dozen larger gliders, and a balloon. A balloon I financed, I might add.”
“Ah yes... personal profits. They treat you well, then?”
“Being the most experienced flyer, I earned enough to buy my glider very quickly, and the profits thereof allowed me to buy one of the new gliders, and pay for a crew. The profits of that mounted up, and when the merchants league started asking for sponsors for the balloon project, I was ready. Two more runs and the balloon will be mine”
“Ah, fascinating. But- eh, what?”
“Inhalers, sir. A herb was found in the northern jungles. It grows only on the braches of other trees. Intrinsically magical, they say. Little white thing, takes nutrients from the air. The point is, the flowers release an aroma which... calms you down. They process them at the jungle village, into a powder. The powder can be inhaled directly, but for more subtle results, it can be put in an inhaler, which contains the powder, but allows the concentrated aroma out. Causing relaxation.”
“My word... don’t the Astroligans accuse it of causing lung disease?”
Hoiral laughed. “I asked them that. ‘Not yet’ they said.”
They emerged onto the bridge level, five stories above the ground. Rope bridges stretched from tower to tower, linking housing towers to a small rooftop market and an inn.
They crossed to the market, passing a stalls selling jewellery made of feathers, spices, boxes of white powder (inhaler content, Gnuk guessed), metal objects of every size, wine, liquor, breads in many sizes, eggs, fruits, books, toys, fine clothing, and many other trinkets.
“Why does the market sell so much?” Gnuk asked.
“We have become rich, sir. We fill the Astroligans with trinkets, and still they hunger for more. Our profits soar. And so the lowest peasant can afford such things.”
“Oh my. We must convert more human tribes as that we may expand”
“The Astroligans have troubles... there may be opportunity to convince refugees to move here.”
“Hmm, yes. The, uh, Suin, have some sort of... food issue, yes? They might find our abundance attractive.”
“Quite so, sir. The possibilities are boundless.”
They left the market, and crossed the bridge to the inn. The arches surrounding the tower which housed it were covered with red sheets. This left it partly open to the air, whilst bathing the inside in red light, as well as keeping the inn-smell in. Hoiral parted the drapes that served as a door and stepped in. The bartender greeted her, and nodded respectfully at Gnuk.
“You catch us at an empty time, sir president” the barman said “The lunch hour is over, and people have returned to their jobs”
Gnuk nodded. “I think that that is probably for the best... I am not well, I believe.”
“Two coffees, Murt” Hoiral said.
“Just a minute. Got to boil water” he replied, and headed for the back.
They sat at a table. Hoiral took out a small wooden object, which she proffered to Gnuk.
“This is an inhaler?” he asked
“Yes. You look like you could use it. It’s like smoking. Inhale through the tube there”
Gnuk shrugged, and breathed in the fumes.
“My, yes. Definitely weak air magic in that” he said. “So tell me of what has become of us, this long year”
“You know of the megadwarves, yes?”
“Of course. That’s what the spell was designed for. I have met one of the ‘Suin’, and I’ve heard of the snakepeople.”
“The world is indeed full of people. The merchant’s league seeks to find yet more people over the southern seas. The biggest news aside from that is the relocation of the lumber camp.”
“I know nothing of this!”
“The jungle down south ran out of suitable lumber, and its hostility increased, so a new site was sought. The lumberjacks all decided to go there, after they heard of its riches. Quite a thriving town there now, with plantations and farms abounding. Hut was elected president a few months ago.”
“Oh my. I do not keep up with the times as I should... ah, coffee.”
The barman returned, two steaming mugs in his hands. Hoiral paid him, and he walked off again. Gnuk took the coffee, and continued.
“All this talk of wealth- have we no troubles?”
“Always troubles, sir, but not so bad. Megadwarven raids, although now ended, and always the great beasts. The northern jungle spits out a giant something every now and again. And the Astroligans cry of Deamons in the depths”
“Deamons? As in, fire elementals?”
“I don’t know. Classification of magical creatures is not my forte. But whatever they are, they have taken one of their towns.”
“Then we must send them help! They aided us against the megadwarves, after all!”
“I’m sure that would be appreciated, sir”
“I would hope so! Demons from the depths... when does your next flight leave, Hoiral?”
“Not for a week, sir. Why?”
“That’s good, that’s good. I need time to prepare.”
“Prepare for what?”
“Prepare to aid our allies! You will fly me over there, and I will defeat the demons, whatever their form.”
Garius tilted the glider, looked down. There, smoke! After hours of searching every valley in the mountains, there they were.
“Oi, Tryk. You awake?”
“Of course I am. How could I sleep with you doing bloody barrel roles every five minutes?”
“Ah, can it. I’m doing my best to find those poor sods, unlike you.”
“Yeah, right. ‘Poor sods’, we’re getting paid for this, it isn’t charity”
“Question not my motives, fool. Just prepare the airdrop”
Tryk grudgingly rolled out the barrels of food and drink, checking their parachutes.
“You better get the heading right, Garius.”
“Pah, I could land there if I was allowed to”
“Whatever. I’m opening the door”
Tryk pulled the handle, and the door swung open, letting in a blast of air. Garius manoeuvred the plane directly over the source of fire, and Tryk pushed the first barrel out. It fell away, and its parachute deployed. Garius turned the glider round, whilst Tryk rolled the next barrel into place. Another barrel sped earthwards. The glider spun round again; another barrel, more and more until only the pilots own rations remained.
“That’s everything, Garius. Pull out”
“Right, strap down. This is going to be fancy”
Tryk pulled the door shut, then belted himself to his seat. Garius spun the controls, and the glider sped for a gap in the mountains, rising from the valley. Suddenly a gust of wind buffeted the craft; sending it cliffwards. Garius swore, pulled desperately, and the glider swooped up; went upside down, and then began to speed back into the valley, out of control.
“What the hell are you doing, Garius?”
“Shit, man, I don’t know!”
Garius pulled desperately at levers; pushed runes at random. But the glider continued its erratic course for the valley floor.
“Ah fuck, we’re gonna crash!”
“What!?”
“We’re going to crash!”
“Shit, man! Hit something soft, or something!”
“Something sof-”
The glider clipped a tree, bounced twice off the ground, and buried itself in a snowdrift. Half an hour later, a hole was knocked in the side, and Tryk stuck his head out.
“Shiiiit”
“Wusat?”
“Nah, don’t worry, man”
“Don’wory”
“The suin must have seen us crash. They’ll be along to rescue us shortly, man”
“H’yeah. Don’wory”
There was a boat, lying in an eddy of the river. It’s smooth sides shone in the sun, each board connected so tight that a thought could not pass between them. A great sail hung from the mast, the pinnacle of sail evolution. Nautical paraphernalia lined the deck, rigging hanging from every beam, a majestic wheel at the helm, ports and starboards everywhere.
Yiop turned to the chief shipwright.
“It looks splendid. When can it leave?”
The man fidgeted. “Well, you see, we’re having technical issues...”
“What issues?”
“Erm... it falls over...”
“What? When?”
“As soon as we move it...”
“Argh, Neuc help me!”
-w briliantly white.
Clarification: Surrounding Main city; a dome, which, when entered by enemies, rises a wind to blow them out. The expenditure of power needed to do this was great, but attained after months of preparation. Not impenetrable, but seriously annoying.
Summary:
Ok,
technically the megadwarves are already gone, but consider their last action to test my new defences.
Gnuk will be heading over to the Astroligans to aid against the demons.
Food aid is brought to the mountain bound Suin- not out of kindness, but as an incentive for them to be friendly, and trade. We like trade. Unfortunately the plane crashes nearby.
Aviators attempt to make boats. They fail. It looks like a boat, like a brilliant boat, but it sails like a brick.
Regarding the armok situation: Cultural misunderstanding. The snakepeople are... known of. Their basket making is praised. Active trade, maybe not, but a snakeperson trader would find willing buyers in the aviator's cities.
Regarding the Suin: Bah, they can keep the ruins. Their starving northern colonists get food charity, even.
Regarding the astroligans: Trade, trade trade. One free shaman with every demon invasion.
Author
Topic: Battle of the Gods V (Read 28137 times)