Master of the Hoard - Chapter 34 (Patreon)

The hardest part of my job is being nice to  people who think they know how to do my job. -Unknown

The next week flew by. Sometimes, you get this weird mixture of boredom and busyness, where you know exactly what you need to do, but things just take longer than you expect, and suddenly you're behind schedule. The entire week was filled with tiny setbacks, discussions and issues that somehow couldn't be handled without my presence, leaving me pressed for time on my regular, chosen tasks.

"We would like to open up the Fields cave of the farming room even more by removing all these stalactites and stalagmites. Can we do that, or is there a risk of collapse?" "You're asking me? Seriously? Your shamans are the ones who can feel rock and you guys know the mountain better than I ever will. But yeah, it should be a non-issue. It isn't really rock as such. It's a mixture of water and - I don't know, minerals or something. Besides, they've all grown after the cave was formed in the first place. You're safe."

"The Clenchers are eating way too much. Our stores are okay right now, but we need to do something about it for the long run. Why don't we halve what they eat? They should be able to get by on that." "No. Just... no! If you starve carnivores, they're bound to help themselves to whatever's near. That means you!”

"We're seeing more activity of tiny creatures in the tunnels these days. Scribblers, Core Worms and Seed Bats are everywhere. What should we do about it?" "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. In fact, this is a great thing. It means that there aren't any larger predators moving in right away. So long as the smaller creatures aren't a problem, feel free to ignore them, eat them, feed them to the Clenchers, whatever you prefer. And bring some of those Seed Bats to me. They’re excellent snacks."

It wasn't all bad, though. Scouts located a large batch of thickset mushrooms that, according to Aelis, were not only edible, but delicious. We replanted the entire batch straight away. The Fungi Room was a third full by now. I was no farmer, but with the combination of Deyra's aura, the Growth Boost and the enrichment from the Clencher manure, growth should be rapid. The Talpi in front of me, Laive, agreed.

Laive was one of the Talpus builders, squat, strong and happy. When Arthor talked to our people about the need for somebody to handle the Farm, she jumped at the possibility of a job change right away. In fact, she was so enthusiastic about it, she spent an entire hour nattering at me about what she was going to improve. I listened - obviously I did - but half of it went over my head. In fact, I had no clue how she had come to some of these conclusions on her own, regarding air flow, controlling water supplies and what not. I ended up giving her the go ahead to handle what she needed and ask others for help if she needed it. With Laive’s help and Roth, Arthor and the others pulling their weight, the setbacks slowly disappeared.

I kept up my training sessions with the Clencher male. He was behaving so well at this point, I decided to name him. The choices were so numerous. Beorn was a close one. Bernardo, too. Once, when he was annoyingly chipper, I threatened him with Buttercup. In the end, I settled for Ursam, short for Ursa Major. There... might have been some awkward moments where Talpi could've chanced upon a shadow dragon petting a Clencher and going "Who's Sam? Ursam," but I digress. With all Ursam's improvement, I started including some of the other four Clenchers too. To my amazement, they took to the instructions a lot faster than he did. Watching him obey orders and act like an almost-trained pet certainly helped, and the glee on Ursam's ugly, bulbous head as he wolfed down his hard-earned treats looked contagious. At the end of the week, I had another Clencher half-trained and was thinking about starting some actual combat practice with Ursam.

My daily allotted time with my very own glowing blue screaming resident crawled by at a snail's pace. I'd taken to talking with him about Earth when I was there. Both because I believed that would be the best chance of getting through to him, and because it felt like he sometimes reacted when I mentioned things back from my world. It wasn't much. Sometimes as little as a twitch in his muscles or a sigh that might also just be an exhalation of breath. Regardless, it felt like there might be a chance for me to actually get through to him at some point. I also told him the tale of Loki being trapped by the Asgardians and punished for his transgressions by being positioned under a huge snake that would drip venom down upon him. It seemed fitting. Even if I didn't get through to him - well, it was a chance for me to talk about some of the things I'd been burying deep inside since I came to this world. It felt better talking to him than just going over it inside my head, more therapeutic, as it were. Today, I was telling him about my ex.

"You know, Dr. Manhattan. Do you mind if I just call you doctor? Feels more shrink-like if I do that. Well, doctor, Cait and I actually work a lot better as a team since we divorced. I mean, she can still be a mean, spiteful bitch, but that's often just covering her own multitude of insecurities. I know. Who am I to talk, right? Well, we never really talked about emotions. I never did with my dad either. I'm guessing that's where it came from. Anyway, Cait. I should probably talk about her in the past tense. It's not like I'm going to get back, unless this is all some coma dream, obviously. Heh. To be fair, I don’t really believe that anymore. Even my subconscious isn’t that messed up. Now, Cait. I'm giving even odds that, even now, she's telling people how she always told me I needed to exercise more. This time, she managed to get the final word." I shook my head, reminiscing. "It's funny how it often came down to getting the final word, instead of talking about our actual issues. Heh. I still miss her, though. Woman didn't back down from anybody and she always spoke her mind. I always loved that about her."

The prone figure stretched in a silent scream, back lifting from the floor before settling down once again. This happened once in a while. "Okay. I guess you're right. It's time to talk about Dina. My daughter, you know. Well, she's a bit of a conundrum. I love her, I really do - it's just, we have nothing in common. Nothing. She used to be into real music. Rock, obviously. That was great. We went to a handful of concerts together, and sort of bonded over that. Had a good time, at least. Now, she's into this new-age crap, though, and I just can't do it. The Flaming Lips. What kind of name is that? And their live shows? It was like a unicorn snorted a bad batch of fairy dust and had glittery diarrhea all over the damn stage. I swear, if-"

"The Flaming Lips are great." The voice inside my mind was fragile, elusive, but undeniably sane.

I didn't dare change the subject, for fear that I would break whatever connection we had right now. "Great? I was hardly able to see the stage for all the goddamn confetti in the air. And the music? Experimental rock, my wrinkled ass. More like bubble gum pop with the occasional guitar. Pfah. Listen to some Stones instead." I held my breath. Was he still there?

The voice reappeared, and this time there was a bit more strength to it. "You just don't get 'em, oldtimer. Stones? Are they calcified by now? Keith Richards died back in the nineties, you know, and they're just moving his mummified corpse with strings."

I couldn't help myself, but laughed. "Hah. I can't decide whether you're right or whether Keith's immortal at this point. He does have the old Nosferatu look down to a T by now." I thought about it and took a risk. "Hey, what's your name by the way? I'm Carl."

"Tim. Short for Timothy. It's good to meet you, even though-" At this, his eyes flickered open for the first time and roved around the room before they settled on me. "Are you? No, it can't be. Aaaaah." Screaming, Tim's eyes rolled backwards in his head and he started shaking. Seconds later, he settled back in the fetal position, trembling slightly.

Damn. Well, at least, now I knew that there was somebody in there and he actually came from Earth. While that was nice, it also reduced the odds of this being a fever fantasy quite a lot and pushed forward the idea of reincarnation. Never mind. I was definitely going to spend more time with tiny Tim here, in the hope that I could get somebody normal to talk to. Well, for a certain level of normal. Maybe even get some goddamn answers. Where am I? Why am I here? Why a dragon? Why did he get to keep his form?

Progress was looking nice elsewhere. According to Arthor, the original theory regarding the sorcery chamber held true. Intricate, detailed work increased Mental Control, while hard work improved Mental Power, and a combination improved both, but slower. Right now, they were working on different combinations of training exercises, attempting to figure out how to best gain the fastest increases over time. I had little I could use to help them in that department, but did remind him that they probably had to take their original attributes into account, as well. It would probably be faster to raise an attribute from 8 to 9 than from 15 to 16.

The best news all week was probably, that one of the younger Talpus pups had reached the age where they would slowly be funneled into the regular tribe. Well, it was good news for the tribe. The poor pup probably resented spending almost every waking hour inside the Sorcery Chamber and Training Chamber, respectively. But damn. The potential in a handful of pups trained from an early age to be strong, agile, resilient masters of magic… damn!

Roth was doing the Lord's work. His assistant trainers handled everything pretty well when he took a break, and Roth had taken to investigating different training methods himself and asking me all I knew about training - which, admittedly, wasn't much. He definitely paid attention, however. The surprise of the week came when I visited him, only to find an entire set of weight lifting equipment on the floor. Apparently, it had only been a half day's work for Creziel to make them, and he had big hopes for the Strength increases.

The major clean-up of the throne room completed without incidents. There were no huge surprises here, although the room really cleaned up nicely. The patterns on the tiled walls were nice, well-made and purely ornamental. We found no hidden secrets either. The only nasty discovery came as the Crawls gave the floors an in-depth cleanse and found a series of otherwise unremarkable shallow grooves in the floor.  Given the propensities of the former owner of the domain, I had a nasty suspicion and tested my theory with a bucket of water. Right. They were blood grooves. Regardless where you'd spill blood or other liquids in the throne room, it would slowly trickle away and pool in front of the throne. Way to decrease the property value there, bucko.

I was pretty happy with the end result. Sure, right now, the result was pretty crude, if effective. Entering the throne room, your gaze would first be drawn to the size of the room, tall and wide. Then, your eyes would automatically continue towards the glinting beauty of my hoard. Finally, you would realize that you’d ignored the really important part of the room, namely the crude stone throne at the back of the room and the imposing, majestic vision of yours truly. Heh. If I ever found the time to convince one of the shamans to decorate some of the walls for me, and maybe find a nice rug or three… yeah, there were possibilities here.

Near the end of the week, Arthor came to see me in my room and I could tell right away that something special was about to go down. His usual way of walking was all business, eyes roaming everywhere to take in everything. Today, he looked different. He marched straight towards me, head held high and eyes fixed on me, with his paws behind his back. The tiny smile playing on his face along with the sense of pride emanating from him quickly gave away that it wasn't a bad occasion.

"Arthor. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You have the strangest expressions, dragon. You are right, however. Today is going to be a pleasant surprise for you. I present to you - this." He walked back outside the room and dragged in a spear.

I lay down on the floor, getting as close to the weapon as possible. The entire spear was as long as two Talpi on top of each other. It was also made entirely in stone. The spearhead itself was as long as one of my claws. The spearhead itself was a work of art, twin edges slightly serrated. The surface of the weapon had tiny engravings, mimicking... "Arthor, are these scales?"

He grumbled. "Jazinth insisted. I gave in, when I realized decorating it would not compromise the strength of the rock."

"So that's the weapon you've worked on in the sorcery chamber." I opened my claw. "May I?"

He handed me the weapon and I grabbed it awkwardly. Man I really missed my hands. Fixing it gently in the palm of my claw, I tested the edge on my other palm, marvelling at the sharpness. The edge impacted the softer meat of my palm with little resistance and, when I tried, even managed to cut into my scales on the back of the claw. Investigating the material again, I noticed something weird. "Arthor, is the edge a different kind of rock?"

He nodded proudly.

I pushed the weapon back towards him and scratched my neck. "Erm. Doesn't that...make it brittle or something?"

"It should, except it doesn't." The side of his mouth quirked up. "I must admit Creziel has turned out to be less useless than I always figured. See, the edge in itself is made from hardened Rasper. It's extremely sharp, but it's prone to splinter from repeated violence or blows. The rest of the spearhead is made from Darkform, which is very hard and resistant, but not as sharp. Creziel was the one who figured out that you can use another kind of rock as an adhesive of sorts. Then, when you apply the precise pressure and strengthen the entire weapon, it solidifies into this."

That was the most technical explanation I'd ever heard from Arthor. "And if the edge is struck off, can you..."

"Add a new one? Oh yes, you can. And, obviously, any target running around with splinters of Rasper stuck inside their wound will not be doing well."

I smiled in appreciation. "That looks impressive. So, do you want to...?" I nodded toward the row of items embedded in the wall, our very own hardness tester.

His smile grew in brilliance, if that was possible. "I thought you'd never ask." Small smile playing on his face, he walked confidently towards our limited scale and made a tiny scratch on the iron belt buckle. He then scratched the glass shard next to it and turned around expectantly.

I applauded his pleased grin and gave him a moment before prodding him. "Well, go on then. Try the next one."

He looked apprehensively at the steel coin hanging off the wall and then gave it a try. A sigh escaped him when the weapon failed to leave a mark.

"You have done amazing progress. To think you haven't even started in on the real training yet, and you are already able to create a material that's harder than iron and glass? That's amazing. Steel is the next goal, and it is by no means undoable."

He nodded. "We could also do more if we had better materials for the weapons. The stronger I am, the harder materials I am able to manipulate."

"Exactly. Do whatever you need to get the best possible materials, even if it takes time off construction or training. Having well equipped fighters might prove the difference between winning and dying."

"Alright. Onyx - I have to ask, though. You specifically asked for a spear of this size. Why? Even the strongest of us can't use it in combat. It's too ungainly."

I gave him my most enigmatic grin. "They say dragons are mysterious creatures. Maybe someday I'll solve the mystery for you. For now, into the hoard it goes."

Arthor grumbled about other sayings he had heard about dragons as he left. Unsurprisingly, none of them were too kind.

I was rather free with my mana. I produced four Shadow Towers inside the throne room, created a Shadow Door leading to my own room, so I would have my own hiding place, and practiced a lot with my Illusion magic. Oh, and manufactured my seventh Mana Crystal. I didn’t really need the additional mana regeneration at this point, but I would rather be ahead of the curve rather than just in the curve. It was getting to the point where I could maintain larger illusions without a lot of issues, as long as I didn’t need to include any actual details. The visualization part was the hardest. Especially under pressure. Creating and holding a believable image inside your head of the illusion you wanted was no easy feat. Good thing I had some practical experience from the fight with the Dweelers and the red.

A week to the day after we demolished the Dweelers, we set off to kill off the resident Tainted Shambler population. This time, however, it was just Aelis, Creziel and I who left. From the descriptions given by the Talpi, I judged that they would be the easiest challenge to date, and they were right. The Shamblers were slow, huge, horned monstrosities with an impressive pheromone control that scared away most deadlier animals and attracted unwitting prey. They were also larger than me, extremely tough and stubborn hunters. And did I mention slow?

After Aelis scouted out the place, I managed to tick off every single one of them and lead them on a slow-ass chase back toward our base. I also tagged each behemoth multiple times with Weakening Fog, making them even slower and clumsier. Once we got close to the base, Aelis led us on a half-hour circuit through the larger tunnel system while we slowly ground them down. The only shock came when I discovered that even my breath weapon was not enough to make them collapse entirely. They were simply too tough. It did, however, weaken them enough that it, in combination with our ten hour-run had them collapsing in the end, panting from the exertion. Once that happened, Creziel slowly trapped each one of them in the earth, and... well, that was it, really. Aelis bounced home and told everybody to come throw a rock at the group of hulking, beleaguered beasts. People treated it like it was a public holiday and I guess, in a sadistic sort of way, to them, it was. At the very least, it was probably the closest they've gotten to safe entertainment in their entire lives. Afterwards, the shamans joined forces in showing how much their powers had improved, manipulating throwing spears to force them through the heavy armored skin of the Tainted Shamblers. The sight of the huge, captured beasts wailing in despair as the hardened spears slowly ground their way through their insides in search of their hearts was a grisly one. At that moment, I felt like a horrible bastard for making this happen. But if it was a choice between these large, unthinking beasts and the growth of me and mine... At least, when the deed was done, I could move on and celebrate along with everybody else, watching as the experience points ticked in, bringing me halfway to level 15. I repeated the success from the last level, throwing everything into Mental Power and grimaced. My mana pool was at 390 mana total. Just 10 more, and I could create that Gallery of Illusions. It would be great for defense. Ah, well. Next level shouldn’t take too long.

Celebratory shouts erupted all over the cavern, as people reveled in their progress. By now, I rarely felt any sensations of resentment or fear from the Talpi. It felt like our successes and shared challenges had gotten to the place where they didn’t see me as a new, remote threat anymore. Creziel approached me, tiny sharp teeth stretched in a huge grin.

The sense of jubilation was heavy on him. "Looks like somebody just earned a nice increase."

"Hah. Yes, Onyx. I just earned a new feat. Earth Manipulation. My powers now affect earth and rock 50 % more efficiently outside combat."

"Well done! You are going to be able to create entire structures by yourself soon. Keep it up!"

He looked away, suddenly embarrassed. "I don't know about that, but I do have some ideas that might be realistic now. I will have to play around with it some, but-"

"By all means. You have a gift for it, and if you want a second opinion, just ask me." Anything that could help him come out of the shell a little - and if my instincts were right, he would surprise us all.