The fall of skullkeep, p.4
The Fall of Skullkeep, page 4
Over the next couple hours, they created and set marking stakes all around the perimeter, while Kiri and her Cavaliers watched. It was a boring, monotonous project except for the final stretch, but then again, so were most adventures. The marking stakes for the wall that would surround the complex all placed, Gavin and the others retreated to where Kiri stood with her two guards, who eyed the layout with a liberal amount of skepticism.
“Milord,” one of the Cavaliers said, “if I may ask, how will you keep the items secure? There hasn’t been a lock made yet that cannot be picked.”
Gavin smiled. “There won’t be any locks anywhere in the compound.”
Confusion dominated the Cavaliers’ expressions like cavalry battling swordsmen.
Kiri looked away so they wouldn’t see her fighting the urge to grin.
“When we finish, only those people authorized to enter the compound will be able to enter the compound. No disguise or blackmail or coercion will allow anyone else to cross the gates’ threshold,” Gavin said.
“But what about the workers? How will you keep them from simply stealing and selling the equipment?” the other Cavalier asked.
Gavin’s smile turned into a grin. “No unbound equipment will pass the wall—in any respect—and maintain its imbued effects. When the time comes to issue the equipment, each quartermaster tent in each mustering location will have a portal that will deliver the recruit here, where we will verify their oaths and blind their equipment to them with a drop of their own blood.”
The Cavaliers frowned as they processed everything Gavin said. After a couple moments, one asked, “Then, how will you protect against a group of people rushing those portals? That would be a weakness, surely.”
“The Foundry will be well fortified while we issue equipment, even though I personally don’t see the necessity. And if the respective armies can’t keep their own mustering fields secure, I’d say we have bigger problems.”
At that point, Gavin turned to his friends, clearly indicating the time for questions had passed. He took the few steps necessary to join them and nodded once. “Okay. Let’s do this just like we practiced. Remember… we want a solid stone wall. Let’s worry about getting the structure right for now, and we’ll circle back around for the protections later. Ready?”
Lillian, Mariana, Braden, and Wynn each signaled their readiness with a nod as they took deep, slow breaths. Through his skathos, Gavin sensed their work to saturate themselves with power drawn from the ambient. His view of the world took on a gold hue as he did likewise, and when he next spoke, his voice crackled with power.
“On three. One… two… three! Rhyskaal!”
Four voices joined his as they combined their will toward one massive invocation. The united strength of five of the most powerful arcanists in the world slammed into the ambient, creating a resonance that drove wizards to their knees as far as Tel Roshan to the west, Arundel to the north, and Birsha to the south. At first, nothing seemed to happen. For several heartbeats, not even birds serenaded them with song.
Then… they heard it. Moments after that, they felt it.
A faint rumbling, like the sound of a herd of horses running at a canter quite some distance away. By the time Gavin counted to sixty, the ground around them bucked and heaved worse than the sea during the fiercest storm.
“Lie down! Everyone, lie flat on the ground!” Gavin quickly heeded his own advice, though he positioned himself to see what happened.
Mere heartbeats after those around him hit the grass, a ridge—square but with a rectangular opening on the side closest the road—pushed up the field’s topsoil. Then, stone broke through the sod and continued to rise toward the sky. As it rose, crenellations formed along the outside edge, and rounded towers complete with turrets and arrow slits formed at each corner. When the wall reached thirty feet in height, it stopped, and the ensuing silence felt eerie.
Gavin stood and rested his fists on his hips as he inspected their distant handiwork.
Braden jumped to his feet next, his expression alight with wonder. “By the gods, Gavin… I don’t even feel winded. That should have put us flat on our backs.”
“Marcus always said the Art was not as it was,” Gavin remarked, not looking away from the new wall. “Kinda makes sense, now that we know it was slowly funneling to Earth all these years with no way back. You’re getting a small taste of what it was like for me there before I created the portal to come home.”
Lillian and the others joined him and Braden. Lillian asked, “And Earth didn’t realize the Art exists?”
“No. The idea of magic and imbued items and all kinds of things like that is fiction to them.”
Not for the first time, his friends shook their heads in a mixture of disbelief and wonder. Mariana said, “You must have been a god over there, Gavin. Why did you bother coming back?”
Gavin pinched some of the fabric of his gold robe between his thumb and finger and shook it. “I agreed to do a job, and as long as I was there, I wasn’t here doing the job. Besides, as much as I liked being home and seeing my family again, it wasn’t truly home. I never lost the feeling that I didn’t belong there, no matter how welcome my parents made me. No matter how happy I was to see my daughter again. That’s not my world anymore, and it isn’t ready to handle the Art. That’s why I only trained my daughter and her friend Alexis while I was there. Jennifer stumbled onto a Word of Power, and she was well on her way to dying from skathos cascade when Kiri and I found her. The same with Alexis, though I never did ask her how she did it. I probably ought to do that at some point, but I suppose it doesn’t matter in the long run. But! Let’s go inspect our new wall before we make the floor. I think the best thing to do is create the walls and floor before we embed the protections. That way, we can do all the protections at once and not have to worry about whether the different pieces would interfere with each other.”
Gavin waved for Kiri and her Cavalier-shaped shadows to follow as he led his friends toward the solid-stone wall that had not existed mere minutes before. The first thing he did upon reaching the wall was reach out to touch it. It was rough stone. Somewhere between the texture of a hewn rock wall—like in a mine—and that of a rock cliff freshly exposed from a slip or similar event. As he envisioned, it was five feet thick, and what no one else would ever realize—maybe not even the dwarven smiths—was that the walls were unbroken stone all the way to the bedrock and fundament of the world. Gavin felt it very unlikely anyone would ever breach those walls.
While Kiri and the Cavaliers admired the new wall, Gavin stepped back and considered the opening that would become the gate. A band of stone already connected the two sides of the imminent gate, and it dislodged the topsoil like the rest of the wall. Part of Gavin wondered if they even needed to make the floor of the compound itself stone to match the walls. The people staffing the Foundry might appreciate some greenery. As he took that thought further, the idea occurred that the Sylvan Synod might like to send some apprentice druids—or whatever they called their druids in training—to spruce up the place, Nature-wise. Some trees here… some flowerbeds over there… the more he examined that idea, the more he liked it.
“I have a question,” he said, and the conversations around him faded as everyone turned to him. “What do you think about inviting the Sylvan Synod to send a group of student druids with a teacher or two to spruce up this place with trees and flowerbeds and stuff like that? Basically what their ancestors did for the College of the Arcane, but on a much smaller scale.”
Braden and Wynn didn’t react at all, Wynn even going so far as to shrug. The ladies, however, beamed at the thought.
“That would just be lovely,” Lillian said. “What an excellent idea, Gavin.”
Mariana nudged Kiri with her elbow. “You must be training him rather well for him to come up with that all on his own.”
Kiri blushed as she fought to keep a straight face. Neither she nor Gavin wanted to mention that they spent almost as much time apart as they did together… nowhere close to the norm for newlyweds, but they each had considerable responsibilities.
“In that case,” Gavin continued, “let’s skip making the ground a stone floor and move on to the gate and gatehouse. From there, we’ll embed the protections in what we’ve made so far… and… probably call it a day. We’ll do the structures and footpaths tomorrow, and I’ll contact the Sylvan Synod at that point.”
Lillian, Mariana, Braden, and Wynn responded to the affirmative, each in their own way.
“Right, then. Let’s go back a safe distance and make a gatehouse and gate.”
By the time the sun neared the western horizon, they had completed their work for the day. An immense gatehouse enveloped the opening in the wall, and a pair of massive stone blocks on metal hinges formed the gate. The construction blazed in the wizards’ skathos, the sheer mass of protections and effects embedded in the stone radiating power into the ambient.
Out of everything they accomplished that day, Gavin was most proud of the gate. To the casual observer, there should have been no way for the comparatively dainty hinges to support the incredible blocks of stone that would come together as the Foundry’s gate, and if Gavin hadn’t saturated both the hinges and the stone gate with powerful Transmutation effects, those hinges never would have. In the case of the hinges and their mounting brackets, Gavin embedded protection from the elements—all of them—exponentially increased the strength of the metal, and wrapped them in a silence effect; those hinges would never rust or otherwise decay, and they definitely would never squeak or squeal. As for the stone blocks that made up the gate itself, Gavin reduced the weight to such a degree that a toddler would be able to push the gate open.
The last thing Gavin wanted to do before calling it a day was to embed one final effect in the gate and gatehouse. He cleared his mind of everything but his intent, taking special care to ensure only his intent existed in his conscious mind. Then, he took a breath and invoked a composite effect, “Rhyskaal-Sykhurhos-Rhyskaal.”
The resonance of Gavin’s invocation slammed into the ambient like a ten-ton boulder hitting a calm lake. Lillian and the others cried out when the resonance of their former mentor’s power drove them to their knees as reality changed to meet his will. A few heartbeats passed before they regained sufficient composure to stand, and all four of them stared at Gavin.
“What did you just do?” Lillian asked.
Mariana still had her arms wrapped across her midriff. “That hurt, Gavin. What could possibly have required so much power?”
“Upon command, the gate will now close and fuse into solid stone that matches the rest of the wall, and the same command word will return it to a gate,” Gavin said. “No silly wooden crossbeams for the Foundry. If someone ever tries to drive a ram into this gate… well… that would not be the wisest idea.”
Mariana’s eyes flicked from Gavin to the gate and back again several times as a shrewd expression developed. “You didn’t need us to help with this at all, did you, Gavin? You’re still teaching us. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Gavin stood silent for several heartbeats before a mischievous expression slipped through his control, and he replied with an exaggerated shrug. “Hmmm… could be.”
CHAPTER 5
Gavin stepped through the gateway to arrive in the elven capital of Arundel. As with his first visit to the city, the crystalline construction of the structures inspired feelings of awe, curiosity, amazement… just to name a few. Not all of the crystals were the same hue, and the morning sun glinted off every surface in a rainbow of color, often favoring the color of the crystal itself, and despite the hustle and bustle of the elves going about their daily lives, he felt an underlying serenity to the city that simply did not exist in Tel Mivar. The pace of life was slower here. More reflective. More studied.
A slight breeze carried hints of the Great Forest that surrounded the city. He readily identified Pine, but that was only part of the bouquet floating along the current of air.
It was a beautiful city, and Gavin felt enriched for having seen it. But he didn’t want to live there. It didn’t feel like home to him, and what’s more, it didn’t feel like it could become home.
“Milord, may I help you?”
A soft tenor at his left shoulder drew Gavin out of his thoughts, and he turned to find a young elf standing a respectful distance away… or at least the elf looked young. They aged at such a different rate from humans that he could’ve seen a hundred summers and not looked any older than Gavin.
“Yes, thank you,” Gavin replied. “Is the Sylvan Synod in session today? I realize it’s short notice, but I was hoping to have a word.”
Now, the elf did betray his youth in a nervous, uncertain expression as he glanced toward the massive tree that dominated the center of the city.
“I - I don’t know, milord. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen notices of when they hold sessions.”
Footfalls and the rustle of garments drew Gavin’s attention further to his left, and he smiled when he saw Telanna stop an equally respectful distance away from Gavin. The young elf at his side bowed deeply.
Telanna served as both a member of Synod and ambassador to Vushaar, when such was needed, and she was the elder sister of Elayna and Kantar, the Magister of Abjuration.
“The Archmagister is a friend,” Telanna said, offering the young elf a soft smile. “I’ll see to him, so you run along. I believe today’s a school day, is it not?”
The young elf jerked a nod and dashed off.
Gavin smiled. “Now, Telanna… are you telling me that you never skipped school? Not even once?”
“Why, of course not, Gavin,” she replied, a slight smile curling her lips. “One of my tutors was rather dreamy. Now, what brings you to Arundel?”
“I hoped to speak with the Sylvan Synod on a matter.”
Telanna’s right eyebrow quirked upward. “Oh? And just what is that matter, if I may ask?”
“The Great Houses of Tel and a number of dwarven clans are establishing an arms and equipment complex. We’re calling it the Foundry, and the physical structures are already in place with arcane wards and such embedded as well. While my friends and I worked on that, the idea occurred to me that there might be some student or apprentice druids who would benefit from some practical experience. I don’t want to imply that it’s required in any form or way, but if the Synod would like to send some students to the facility to give it more of a natural feel with flowers and trees and such, we would welcome them. Sort of like what the druids did for the College of the Arcane all those millennia ago, but on a much smaller scale and with no need of a hedge maze.”
Telanna nodded. “Yes, I understand. Would you like to present this to the full Synod yourself, or would you entrust its presentation to me?”
“I have no problems leaving the matter in your capable hands, Telanna, especially since I’m pretty sure you’re a member of the Synod yourself.”
A slight smile crossed Telanna’s expression. “Why, yes, so I am. I will discuss it with the Synod. How should I communicate the decision to you?”
Gavin took in the crowd growing around them as he considered that question. It seemed the Archmagister conversing with a senior druid of the Sylvan Synod on a street was worthy of gawkers. Gavin wasn’t normally one to show off, but when the mood struck him, he put on a show with the best of them. And right then… the mood struck him.
He bent down and scooped up a small stone from the edge of the street and let it rest in the palm of his hand, presenting it as much to the gawkers as Telanna. Then, he concentrated his focus on the precise changes to the stone he wanted to create and invoked a composite effect of Divination and Transmutation, “Klaepos-Rhyskaal.”
Wizards across Arundel felt the resonance of Gavin’s power as the composite effect took hold, and it manifested as a cloud of kaleidoscopic lights that swirled around the small stone, faster and faster, until—all at once—the stone seemed to absorb them. In the wake of the composite effect, the stone resonated against Gavin’s skathos, and through that resonance, he knew he had achieved his desired effect.
“Here,” Gavin said, extending his hand to Telanna. “Speak the command word, and I shall hear whatever you say until you speak the command word again.”
“And just what, may I ask, is the command word?”
As soon as Telanna took the stone from his hand, Gavin leaned closed and whispered, “Swordfish.”
When Gavin withdrew to a respectful distance, he enjoyed the look of consternation that had claimed Telanna’s expression. Her lips moved several times as if she started to speak, but she made no utterance. After several false starts, she said, “What kind of nonsense is a command word like that?”
Gavin grinned. “You won’t have any problems remembering it, will you?”
“Certainly not.” Now, it seemed Telanna noticed the crowd that had developed around them, and her expression became shrewd. “Never miss an opportunity to put on a show, do you?”
Gavin shrugged, maintaining his insouciant grin. “Oh, sure. I let all kinds of those opportunities pass, but maybe that’s the problem. If I showed off more, I might not feel the urge to do so in such a grandiose fashion.”
Telanna’s eyes narrowed. It wasn’t quite a glare, but it certainly wasn’t a happy, carefree expression. “I think you’ve disrupted the day for long enough, you incorrigible cad. I shall contact you anon.”
“I hope the day treats you well, Telanna,” Gavin replied. He focused his intent once more and invoked a Word of Transmutation, “Paedryx.”
He added a fingersnap at just the right moment to make it appear as though the snap was a crucial component of the invocation right before he vanished from Arundel.
Gavin appeared in his quarters in the Citadel, high above Tel Mivar. He smiled and chuckled a bit over how he handled the gawkers back in Arundel and admitted to himself that maybe he should opt for a more dignified mien… especially while he was the Archmagister. But the more he thought about it, the more he decided that he should be himself in all things and moments. Sure… he could be serious if the occasion called for it, but by and large, he felt people took things too seriously.
