Master of the Hoard - Chapter 9 (Patreon)

“Good buildings come from good people, and all problems are solved by good design.” — Stephen Gardiner

Watching the Talpi at work was awe-inspiring. When you were talking to them, their paws looked soft and their claws negligible. Nothing to make you fear for your life, certainly. However, a few minutes of scrutiny when they were digging made me change my mind. I watched in rapt fascination as a close-mouthed fellow named Yeeven encountered an area of hard-pressed gravel and got to work. With a grunt of effort, his paws slid right into the material like a baker working dough. Initially, I believed that I was witnessing some innate earth magic at work, but the more I watched, I realized that their bodies were simply optimized for this type of work. When I first pictured the Talpi at work, I imagined a group of creatures digging their own tunnel - completely wrong. Apparently, when Talpi dug (except for the scouts, who often had to create their own tunnels) they worked as a team. A group of sturdy specimens stood by with rough clay containers in their paws to remove earth and dirt and disperse it through the remaining tunnel system while a handful of diggers worked. I stood back along with Aelis, watching the progress.

"What's her job?" I used my tail to indicate a brooding figure walking back and forth behind the workers, muttering to herself.

"It's Jazinth. One of Arthor's apprentices. She is here for the situation where... oh, wonderful timing. You will be able to see for yourself."

Indeed, the moody apprentice was moving forward towards one of the diggers. The sturdy Talpus was chittering and gesturing at the wall of dirt before him. The apprentice waved him away and approached the wall of dirt and gravel, spreading her paws out wide. Then nothing. I kept my attention fixed and moments later was rewarded with the vision of gravel being displaced. Dirt ran down to the ground and was pushed outwards, to be followed by a boulder that slid out on a wave of dirt to land before the apprentice. After a curt question at the sturdy worker, she pointed a furry digit at the boulder and gave a low grunt. The massive rock parted into four pieces with a loud crack.

To the Talpi, it seemed like nothing out of the ordinary. A worker stepped up, hefting one of the massive rocks to move it and everybody went back to what they were doing. Inside, however, my mind was reeling with the possibilities. On the top of my list of long-term issues was the lack of raw material for construction. Wood, metals... hell, even cloth was a problem. This might resolve a lot of these issues. If their control over earth and rock was sufficiently advanced, I'd be able to handle a lot of constructions that would otherwise require iron or other metals.

The apprentice wasn't forthcoming with answers or details to my questions. I stood over her, awaiting an answer. She was a strange one. Though she was as gaunt as any of the others, this Talpus was the first one who looked like she cared about her looks. Her fur was sleek and dark, not caked with dirt and it looked like she actually brushed her hair. Fur. In short, she looked unbearably cute. Her attitude belied her looks, however and she brushed off my myriad of questions. "Not my secrets to tell," she said with a frown, "ask Arthor."

"That I will. Are you sure that there actually is a cave back there further in?"

"Yes. My arms may be weak, but my mind isn’t. I can feel the emptiness."

Nice and cryptic. If she ever gave up on the earth mage thing, she could definitely find work as a fortune teller or something. I wasted no time in doing what she said, walking to the new living spaces for the Talpi. One of the rooms was filled with furry inhabitants, eliminating the last of the dirt that had been dominating the place. Others were busy arranging crude pelts from the ceiling - seemed like they were sectioning off the huge rooms into smaller areas. Arthor was seated inside the other room, holding court. Well, educating, probably, given that his audience was his remaining apprentice and another Talpi listening in rapt attention.

In books, the proper attitude would certainly be to wait, respectfully, until the masterful shaman took heed of my polite manners and deigned to talk to me. Right this moment? Well, my patience with arrogant jerks had always been on the short side. Besides, I was a damn dragon. I stomped forward, stopping right behind the trio and growled. "Scram. Arthor and I need to talk."

They practically fled, while Arthor stared straight up at my eyes, his grey eyes cold with disdain. His paw twitched, like he contemplated tossing his rock at me. "You dare much, lizard."

I bowed my head in assent. "That I do. You may not respect me right now - and that's fair. I won't try to be your friend - but I will be your leader. Now, I've a feeling you're too stubborn for threats, so I'll go with bribes instead. What's your price?"

He cocked his head, contemplating. "What for? For teaching you magic?"

I shrugged. "Eventually. Right now, however, I want you on board the team. Everything else is secondary and I don't care to have to reason, beg or threaten each and every time I need a piece of information or work from you."

He sniggered. "Well, that is forthright of you." His eyes tightened and he waved a tiny digit up at me.  "Let's start with clear answers. First off: You managed to derail me last time with your being huge, threatening and insufferably ignorant. Are you being facetious when you tell me you never got the Introduction? Also, dragons don't deal with such as us unless they're in need of snacks or fodder. Which is it?"

Damn it all! Why had I missed the Introduction? What information did I now lack that could have helped me out? Apparently, it couldn’t have been a completely informative Introduction. Arthor claimed that dragons wouldn’t lower themselves to use Talpi - but my evolution choices had clearly said otherwise. Also, it struck me that my sense of his emotions was less than that of Aelis - could be his Mental Control was higher than hers. That would make sense given he’s a shaman. Still, a vague sense of suspicion did emanate from him right then. I decided to go for broke. The alternatives didn’t sit well with me either. I generally tried to work with a policy of honesty – lying just seemed to be too much work and besides I wasn’t any good at it. "Both of those questions probably have the same answer. Because I’m not from this world."

The look on his face was studiously blank, and I continued. "I don’t need you to believe me. It’s the truth, though. My last memory is that of my human body sinking to the ground back on Earth, clenching my hands to my chest, unable to think from the pain. Next thing I knew? I was here. No introduction, no caring clutch mother to tell me what was going on, just a bunch of weird mole people stabbing into the egg I was trapped in before I even realized I wasn’t a human anymore. Oh, and from your description, it sounds like I'm not going to be a great dragon." Yet, that wasn’t in my plans.

The silence was oppressive. The small creature stared at me openly, glared even, like he was forcing me to admit that it was all a lie. In the end, however, he sighed, and rested his head in his paws. “Figures. We get a dragon on our side, and it’s broken." He dismissed me with a paw. "Don’t start. I believe you. You don’t seem clever enough to put together as intricate a lie as this, and Aelis has told us about some of your eccentricities. You’ll have to tell us about your world at some point, but for now, I just have one question: What’s your plan for us?" Wow. That went over a hell of a lot better than I expected.

I shrugged. "Survive, mostly. In time, I’ll want to grow to be a power down here in the mountain – I don’t want to settle for running for my life constantly. For that to work, I'll need hands to create my kingdom. Guess who has hands - well, paws, and excel at hard work and digging?"

"Really? That is your grand plan?"

"Yeah. Self-serving, I know. But I've tied myself to you guys. I'll bleed if you do. There's still plenty of danger and I'm definitely not going to coddle you - but I will protect you if push comes to shove. Also, you shouldn't disparage my building plans - I've a feeling this place can end up pretty damn impressive. What else?" I mean I wasn’t prepared to divulge my more esoteric ideas of what I wanted to accomplish, so this would do for now. I still needed them to be onboard with me before revealing everything. Not that it was complete in mind yet either.

For a moment he didn't answer. Then he let out a massive exhalation. "Words. My father excelled at telling the females he'll protect them from harm. Doesn't make him any less dead. I want proof."

I smiled. Perfect. "You want proof that I'm going to actually build up your tribe instead of just using you? Apart from me already risking my life to provide you with a home?"

He nodded, standing tall with challenge writ all over his face.

This I could do. I focused inwards for a moment. Press - here. Assign profession. Confirm. And waaaait for it...

At first nothing happened. Then Arthor's eyes shot earthward and the rock fell from his paw. He dropped to his knees and let his paws roam over the earth, muttering under his breath. His gaze lifted to fix on me. "You. What did you do?"

"What you asked me to. Invested in you. I'm going to do the same for your two best builders too. That's my capacity at the moment, but I hope it'll improve with time." It was a guess, but not an unreasonable one. If my new world thrived on game logic, buffs and capacities would likely improve with increased levels.

"I... hah. Well, that has me well and truly cornered, by my own words none the less. Well, done, lizard. I suppose I had better learn the name of my new overlord."

"Carl."

"Cal? What kind of name is that? You would have to be a bloodthirsty psychopath to be called Cal. Next, you'll start inventing all sorts of..."

"Carl, not Cal." I interrupted, enunciating my mental message slowly.

"Pfah, that's hardly better. Nobody is going to respect you with a name like that. You need a proper name - like Zephyr. Or Sarevok. I'll find something suitable."

"Yeah, I'll wait for that," I responded and immediately went to derail him, "in the meantime, how about magic?"

He spread out his arms. "I still can't teach you. I would if I could. Well, probably. I cannot stand dumb pupils. But I mean it - dragons and other large solitary monsters cannot learn magic the way the rest of us do. You improve your magical abilities as you and your hoard level. We shamans gain our power from the tribe and our power's limited by the size and health of the tribe. Still, we can eventually learn to shape that power as we want. As long as we survive and the tribe thrives, of course." He gave his fur a vigorous scratch. "One of my forefathers claimed that humanoids worked under different limitations - that they could both learn freely and improve their powers as they leveled. Pfah. Who cares - it's not like we're going to meet any, right? Picture that - a human entering the Scoured Mountain. Or a scrawny elf?" He gave off a raucous laughter.

Why was that funny? Ah, who cared? I'd had enough story time already. "How about your magic though? Could you explain what your powers and limitations are? If I'm planning to make this dump the best home in this damn mountain, I need to know what you and your apprentices can do."

"That I can do. Let's see if you can keep up. Now I won't bore you with the different types of earth and rock. Suffice to say, our kind has an affinity for earth. With the rare exception we are born with the feat 'Earth sense,' allowing us a vague understanding of the soil close to us. With additional Mental Control and Power, this understanding deepens and the range expands." He glanced at me to see if I was following. "Only we shamans learn how to truly manipulate the soil, however - with a few inconsequential exceptions. Now, this next part probably won't interest you, but it's something you need to understand. See, the difference between soil and rocks is often elusive to the uninitiated."

I just had to jump in and interrupt. "Well, it's basically just the size that's different. Soil's powdery, where rocks... what's the word? Holds together? It's bulky. You could call them interrelated - soil's the tiny brother and rocks are the giant sized parents."

Arthor continued, acting like nothing fazed him, but I could see he was out of sorts. "That... is as decent an explanation as any. It also makes the following easier to take in: In theory, we can manipulate rock as easily as soil. In practice, rock will be harder. Added resistance for movement, hardness and less resonance with our powers."

I nodded in time with his explanation, already thinking of the possibilities. "Amazing. So, you can move soil and rocks. Can you also change its structure? Harden soil or rocks? Or grind it down into finer dirt? And what about detail work? How finely can you carve into stone?"

He stared at me. "Spirit keep my furry ass. I'm damn glad I'm unable to teach you, if that's the kind of pupil you'd be. One question at a time." He coughed, looking lost for a moment. "Yes, we can move soil and rocks. We can't keep it up for a long period though - that's what our diggers are for. Changing the structure of soil or rocks is possible, but time-consuming. We sometimes need a passage made in a hurry and take turns making the soil easier to dig, and the work easier for the diggers. Or causing a cave-in for instance. Grinding soil finer is easier than hardening something - but we have done both. On occasion, we need to be entirely sure that nobody can follow. Turning a collapsed tunnel into rock tends to do the trick." He guffawed but then turned serious. "I'm not sure what you're asking though. We can manipulate the texture, but can't turn sand into soil for planting. There's no way to just hex up the water and... whatever else you need to add to the mix."

I just shook my head. "No, of course not. It makes a lot of sense. How about detail work? And how hard can you compact something? Could you create, say, a durable spear entirely made of rock or items for mechanisms?" The Talpi I'd fought were mostly carrying bone spears with stone spearheads.

"Too impractical. A spear made entirely of stone would be too heavy for our people to carry properly. It would also be ridiculous. Within the Scoured Mountain, there are always bones to find and carve. But, sure, we could create it, no discussion. As to hardness and detail, the same basic principles apply with a few distinctions. One is that the time and effort involved to harden the piece or create small details depends on the rock we use for material. Some require almost no effort, while others are porous or flawed enough that you may as well start with sand. The other? Skill, experience and attributes make a huge difference. While, for me, I can handle details as small as the eye can see, my apprentices have other limits. As to the limits for hardness? Personally, I used to be able to harden rock to a point where it would take hard, repeated abuse to shatter it. Now? Well, I'd need this oversized lizard to leave, so I can test my new abilities."

"You didn't say anything about mechanisms, though. Could you create, say, levers? Or rollers? Wedges?"

He grunted, giving the question due thought. "Again, it depends. What would we have to move, support or roll? Yes, we could very well create all these things. The usefulness of them, however, would be dependent on the material we use and what we would have to use them on. Are we done?"

The last part came out a lot less roughly than earlier, but I could tell the eagerness in him to get out there and experiment with his improved powers. “Yes. I believe I have everything I need.”

He nodded. “Good. I need you to focus for a moment longer, however. I will not ally myself with somebody who is willfully ignorant on the topic of Deyra.” He glared at me to ensure he had my attention and then nodded, once, sharply. He clapped his paws together to emphasize his words. "Every - single - person. Every person with a modicum of intelligence who is born to this world is born with a rock solid knowledge of Deyra. When we open our eyes and stumble into this world, it is to the tune of her ringing endorsement. Go. Fight. Thrive." He shook his head. "She is the one who imbues us with breath, who lifts us up from nothing. Our Mother, our Mistress and Salvation. She is also the one who accepts our dying breath."

I just stood there, speechless. This was so far from the grumpy, irreverent personage he’d shown me so far, that I didn't know how to react. And this was definitely important information.

He continued. "Deyra is a living, breathing force, existing below the surface. Her gifts flow out to everybody, blessing us with the possibility of gaining levels and improving our lot in life."

"So... she is the force behind the messages we get?"

"That's one way of saying it. An extraordinarily dumb way. Sure, she is the one who grants us every gift following the breath of life and allows us to decide our path, but yeah - let's just boil it down to sending messages." He turned away from me, but I could feel him steaming.

That was the first time I'd heard Arthor angry. "Whoa. I apologize if I've given offense. This is just... we have no such thing where I come from. I have no basis of comparison."

Arthor turned back again, scrutinizing my features. "There you go again, subverting my expectations. A dragon. Apologizing to me. Spirit keep this memory for my descendants." He sighed. "Yes. We hold a lot of reverence in Deyra - as will most thinking creatures. After all, if she were not here, we would be stuck at level 1 with no chances of evolving." He gazed off into the distance for a moment. "That part is universal, by the way. The closeness of her presence within the mountain is not."

"Closeness of... was that the part where we have increased fertility and regeneration rates within the mountain compared to outside?"

"Yes. Also increased experience gain. The tale goes that there are several of these spots all over the world. Those are just words, though - the mountain has been our world."

“And a dangerous world at that. I appreciate the explanation, however. I will do my best to ensure we do not squander the gifts of Deyra then.”

We chatted for a while longer on practical topics before Arthor’s impatience became too much. With a reminder to get back to me once he knew what he was capable of, I left him to it and went back to plan and plot. Heh - since I didn’t have hands I would have to content myself with watching other people work. I think a person could get used to this.

On my way, however, I couldn’t help but wonder. Was I the only human in this world, trapped inside a body that was not of our own form, in a world we did not know? Maybe the other eggs in the clutch were the same, and I would suddenly be facing fellow humans in battle? Not happy thoughts, those.