Path of Dragons

Book 2: Chapter 67: Errands

Book 2: Chapter 67: Errands

The next morning, Elijah’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he forgot the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders. In those brief few seconds, he raised one hand, letting the warm blanket of dense ethera envelop him as he let the first rays of the morning sun dance across his fingers.

But it couldn’t last.

He knew he was on the clock in terms of preparation for the coming orc invasion, and as such, he didn’t have time to lie abed. So, with some degree of frustration, he pushed himself out of bed and dressed for the day. He chose his least dirty outfit, which still wasn’t precisely clean, and vowed to find some easy way to do laundry in Ironshore. Once that was done, he gathered his things before heading downstairs and to his grove, where he enjoyed a breakfast of berries while walking through the garden and flaring Nature’s Bounty.

It wasn’t necessary. The bushes had already reached the point where they were self-sufficient, which meant that his efforts only had a limited effect on their growth. Yet it calmed him, bringing back memories of days he’d spent trying to coax the bushes and other plants to fruition. He took a few minutes to converse with Nerthus as well, though he didn’t broach any important subjects. Instead, he simply wanted to make the tree spirit feel better about their partnership because, during his travels, he’d come to the conclusion that he’d treated Nerthus more as a means to an end than an actual friend. He aimed to change that going forward.

Soon enough, when the sun had pushed fully above the horizon, Elijah gathered a bunch of berries in his pack, then bade Nerthus goodbye before heading to the beach where he’d stored his collection of rowboats. Despite his neglect, the small vessels still looked in good repair, so he pushed one into the surf and began the journey across the strait. As he did so, he sensed a couple of large fish – one that was much larger than the boat – swim by beneath him. Yet, none of them paid Elijah’s passage any heed. They were too focused on their own lives, which presumably included hunting for prey large enough to sustain them.

Like that, Elijah covered the distance to Ironshore’s dock, where he was greeted by more than a few hostile stares. The city itself hadn’t changed all that much, save that it had developed a little more, with some of the buildings having grown, both in terms of size as well as architectural complexity. Indeed, it looked like a proper city now instead of something that would have been at home in the wild west.

But while there were plenty of fearful glances still directed his way, there was plenty of anger there as well. Fortunately, one of the dock guards recognized him – after all, how could they mistake him for anyone else? – and asked him to remain at the dock while she fetched Ramik.

What followed was an awkward few minutes where Elijah tried not to notice all the aggressive glares. To him, it looked like the dockworkers as well as the few sailors present were only a few inches from tossing rotten produce at him and running him out of town.

Soon, Ramik arrived, though, and when the distinguished-looking goblin did, the people reluctantly went back to their business. “What’s going on with them?” Elijah asked.

“They blame you,” the goblin answered with a shake of his head. “If you hadn’t killed the mercenaries…”

“What was I supposed to do? Just let them kill me?” he asked.

The question was a little misleading. For all he knew, Cabbot hadn’t come to the island with murder on his mind. The presence of his private army seemed to counter that presumption, but Elijah had every reason to suspect that if he’d simply run away, Cabbot would have let him. Still, there was no way he would have let the greedy gnome destroy his grove and use it for his own progression. So, the point was moot.

“No. Of course not. But the public, they don’t know all the facts,” Ramik stated. “Even though we’ve spread the story, some disbelieve. Others give credence to rumors. The point is that the people are woefully misinformed, as well as frightened. They want to blame someone, and you are the easiest target.”

That made sense to Elijah, at least. Everything he’d experienced, both before and after Earth experienced the touch of the World Tree, suggested that people were rarely great judges of where to place blame. Especially when there was someone as different as Elijah around.

“Is it going to be a problem?”

“No,” Ramik said firmly. “We have enough guards to keep order.”

“Alright. I have a few errands I want to run,” he said. “Then, I want to check out the horde myself. Once we do that, maybe we can develop a strategy.”

“Oh. I thought…”

“That I’d just snap my fingers and make the problem disappear?” asked Elijah.

“No. Of course not. I…no. You are right. Expecting you to deal with them alone was wrong,” he said. “I apologize. We will do our part.”

The conversation went on for a few more moments, but nothing of import was said. So, it wasn’t long before Elijah found himself heading into the city. Notably, there were a couple of guards trailing him. He didn’t mind, though, because as he headed to his first destination, he became convinced that, without the guards, he would have been attacked. Or at least confronted. He had no desire to deal with that, so he was grateful for the guards’ dissuading presence.

In any case, he quickly found his way to Mari’s tailoring shop. When he entered, the matronly dwarf looked up from where she was arranging some of her wares, gave him a short look, and said, “Still haven’t gotten any shoes, have you? Barbaric.”

Elijah shrugged. “I thought about buying some in another town, but it just felt weird,” he admitted. “I don’t think I’m meant for footwear.”

“If you say so. What do you want? Perhaps some cleaning powder for your clothing? All the gods know you need it,” she stated.

“Uh…is that just soap? Because I have plenty of that, and –”

“No. It’s an alchemical solution. Sprinkle some on your clothes, and it’ll clean them,” she stated. “Not as good as a proper self-cleaning enchantment, but better than doing it the old-fashioned way. I suggest you go visit that crazy old coot of an alchemist if you’re really interested in buying some. I have a few pouches in the back, but my prices won’t be kind.”

“Oh. Okay. But no. I was coming here to ask if you know anything about tanning hides,” he said. “I’ve done it without ethera before, but I’m wondering if there’s something else I should be doing.”

She shrugged. “Tanning solution is something Biggle can provide,” she said.

“I was more thinking of using natural methods.”

“Ah. Then you’re going to want some brains,” she said. “Preferably of a sentient creature. More ethera, you see.”

Elijah was well aware of the brain-tanning method, and on top of that, he knew he was about to have to kill a lot of orcs, all of which satisfied the sentience requirement. It was a gruesome thought, especially considering that orcs so closely resembled people. Yet, Elijah couldn’t allow himself to fall into the trap of looking at them like that. Instead, he intended to treat them much the same way he’d treated the ogres and dark elves in his most recent tower run.

Which was to say that he was going to try to see them as enemies, rather than people. It had worked for armies going back throughout all of human history, so Elijah hoped it would work for him as well. Otherwise, there was every chance he was going to add quite a lot of trauma to his already-significant psychological burden during the coming conflict.

“Is there anything else I should know?” he asked.

“What do you plan to do with this hide you’re curing? I assume it’s special, or you wouldn’t bother.”

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He shrugged. “A cloak, maybe. I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe some bearskin pants or something.”

“No – a cloak is good,” Mari said, tapping her finger against her chin. “Yes, lots of possibilities there. I could even tailor it to your specific needs, provided we have the proper materials. Those wouldn’t be difficult for someone like you to acquire, I’m certain.”

“You want to make a cloak for me?” he asked.

“Of course. I could even tan it, if you like.”

“No. I need to do that myself,” Elijah stated. “But no offense, why would you do that? I got the feeling that you didn’t much care for me.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re to be our great protector, are you not? What sort of citizen would I be if I didn’t offer my services. Not for free, of course. Obviously. But I will make you a great deal,” she said. “Is there anything else you need? Some new clothes, perhaps?”

Eljiah shrugged. “Unless you have something better than what I’m wearing, probably not,” he responded. “But thank you. I’ll probably take you up on your offer. Probably not until after…you know…what’s coming.”

“Of course, of course. I’m sure you’ll be victorious.”

Elijah definitely didn’t like the dwarven woman’s sudden change of tone. When he’d visited before, her attitude was best described as terse. Still, she had a Tailor class, which meant that she could probably do things with that bear hide that he could only dream of. He could stitch things together, but that was the extent of his talent in sewing. So, he already knew he would take advantage of Mari’s offer.

After only a little more conversation, he exited Mari’s shop, promising to return with the hide when he’d finished preparing it. His next stop was on the other side of town, so he, along with his guards, quickly set off. Along the way, Elijah couldn’t ignore how unpopular he was. It also didn’t help that he stuck out like a sore thumb, considering he was the only human in town.

Fortunately, he reached his destination only fifteen minutes later, though it was not what he’d expected.

Set at least a hundred yards away from the next closest building, the alchemist’s shop – or was it a home, perhaps? – sat atop a low hill. A winding path led to a small fence, on the other side of which was an overgrown garden teeming with ethera. Elijah marched up the winding path, and when he reached the low gate that he could have stepped over if he so desired, he called out, “Biggle? Can I come in?”

There was a small, muffled explosion, followed by a shouted expletive, after which a squeaky voice spat, “Drat! I almost had it!”

Then, Elijah heard the sound of clinking glassware and the thud of something extremely heavy before the door to the little cottage banged open, revealing a tiny gnome. He was maybe two feet tall and built like a toddler, yet he had a great, white beard, thick eyebrows that looked like pale caterpillars, and a bulbous nose. There wasn’t a bit of hair on his head, and the tips of his beard smoldered as if they’d just been on fire.

He stomped out, demanding, “What do you want? I swear by all the gods that –”

That’s when he caught sight of Elijah. Recognition dawned, and the gnome went pale. “W-what…what are you…please don’t kill me! I got nothing against nature! All my ingredients are sourced from cruelty free –”

“I need your help,” Elijah said. “I don’t care about any of that. I just need some cleaning powder. I also have something that might interest you.”

“What? You’re a Druid, aren’t you?”

“How did you know that?”

“It’s obvious to anybody who’s paying attention,” Biggle answered. “Are you really not here to avenge the death of your floral friends?”

Elijah rolled his eyes. “I’m not. I just told you why I’m here.”

Biggle narrowed his twinkling blue eyes. “Hmm. A reasonable Druid. Never thought I’d see the day. But it’s a new world and a new attitude, I say,” he said. “Well, come on in. Don’t mind the tentacula. It’s just playful.”

Elijah looked back at his guards, both of which took a step back and shook their heads. “We’ll stay out here,” the female dwarf said. “Right, Marv?”

“Policy,” he grunted.

Elijah nodded, saying, “Sure. Policy. I understand.”

Then, he opened the gate and marched through. As he did, he focused on One with Nature and discovered that most of the plants were mobile. He suspected that they were carnivorous as well, judging by the unique smell of predation. Still, none of them attacked him, which he counted as a lucky break. It unnerved Biggle, too, who said, “Wish they’d stop biting me like that…”

In any case, Elijah quickly followed the gnome inside the cottage, which was absolutely strewn with what looked like chemistry equipment and cooking supplies. There were pots and pans, cauldrons, beakers, vials, and what looked like Bunsen burners. In addition, bundles of herbs hung from the beams on the ceiling, and there were huge barrels lining the walls. On the shelves were all sorts of jars bearing labels like, “newt eyes” and “giant’s toes”.

And it smelled like a wet foot.

“Sorry about the mess. And the smell. I’ve been doing some experiments, hoping to make a breakthrough, and they have not been going well,” the little gnome said. “You know how it is. One drop of basilisk saliva too many, and the whole things goes up in smoke.”

As he spoke, he climbed atop a stool so he could more or less look Elijah in the eye, and he asked, “So – what can I do for you? You wanted cleaning powder, yeah? Can’t blame you on that one. No offense, but you smell worse than a three-day-old bobtik.”

“Uh…”

“Right. You wouldn’t know what that is, would you? A bobtik is a swamp monster with a curious life cycle where it starts to decay almost as soon as it hatches,” Biggle explained. “By the third day, they have the most pungent aroma. But that’s when you have to harvest them, or you’ll miss peak efficiency. So – you also said you had something for me? I’m not interested in any more kelp. I have plenty.”

It took Elijah a moment to catch up, but when he did, he unshouldered his pack and said, “I have this mushroom. Well, most of it, at least. It’s contained in a specially made satchel right now.”

“Hmm…I’m always interested in mushrooms. Was quite a mycologist back in the day, you know? World-renowned, some might say. Not this world, though. Another world. You wouldn’t know it.”

Ignoring the gnome’s babbling, Elijah reached into his pack and retrieved the sack containing the mushroom flesh. He set it before the alchemist, saying, “That satchel is keeping its aura contained. Otherwise, it would’ve probably killed a few people on the way here.”

Biggel’s eyebrows twitched. “And where did you get this sack?” he asked innocently.

“I killed the four hunters who had harvested the mushroom,” Elijah answered honestly. “I don’t know where they got it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Right. So, let’s see what you’ve got here,” the alchemist said. Then, he unbuckled the strap and flipped the top open. Immediately, the entire room was bathed in dense ethera. It wasn’t quite as strong as it had been when the mushroom was still whole, but it was still enough to elicit a slight feeling of nausea. After using that same ethera to fuel his cultivation, Elijah was used to it, though. However, he did notice that with every passing instant, it felt noticeably weaker.

Biggle slammed the bag shut.

“Is that something you can use?” Eljiah asked, already knowing the answer to that question.

“Of course it is. That’s a high Simple-Grade natural treasure,” Biggle stated. “There’s nothing else like that in the surrounding area. And if there was, it won’t last through the orcs’ invasion.”

“So, it’s valuable.”

“Extremely. With this, I could create a powerful body cultivation potion. It might even be enough to push someone to the halfway mark.”

“Of the first stage?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Alright. This is the deal. If you want to take it, great. If not, I’ll go elsewhere. You give me half of what you make from it, and the mushroom’s yours,” Elijah said.

“Half? I wouldn’t make any profit! Best I could do is a quarter.”

After that, the haggling commenced, and it didn’t end until they’d settled on a third of what Biggle created from the mushroom, plus a ten-pound sack of cleaning powder. Elijah thought he got the better of the deal, but then again, it seemed that Biggle thought the same thing. So, who was to say who won the negotiation?

In the end, though, Elijah was satisfied, and that was all that really mattered. After Biggle told him that the potion would be ready in a few weeks, Elijah departed and, along with his guards, headed to the center of the city. There, they led him to an administrative building, inside of which he met a surly-looking dwarf with spikey black hair and a short beard.

“Name’s Kurik,” the dwarf said, holding out a hand. “Can’t say as I blame ya for killin’ Cabbot. He was a right cunt.”

“Oh,” Elijah said, taking Kurik’s rough hand in his own. “Yeah. I guess he was.”

After that, Ramik explained that Kurik was the highest-level combatant in the entire town. He was apparently some sort of Ranger variant, which meant he was more of a scout than a fighter. However, now that Elijah had killed their entire security force, Kurik had been forced into the latter role.

“I got thirty good scouts under me,” Kurik stated. “Another ten that ain’t worth spit, but they’re still better than nothin’.”

“And of the fifteen hundred residents of Ironshore, two-thirds are combat capable,” Ramik explained. “Some to a lesser degree than others.”

Elijah remembered the barbers he’d met during his second visit to Ironshore, and nodded. He didn’t think they’d contribute much to a fight. “Will they still contribute?”

“All but the little ones,” Ramik answered. “The more mature among the children will be used as runners, both for messages as well as supplies. However, there are a few who are not old enough to do even that. We intend to house them here until the fighting is done.”

Or until everyone was overrun by orcs.

“Alright,” Elijah said. He didn’t know much about war, so he was prepared to bow to their judgement. “I guess I need to see these orcs with my own two eyes.”

“Right. I’ll lead you,” Kurik said.

And not long after that, the pair were traveling through the wilderness. As they went, Elijah refrained from using his draconid form. He was certain that Kurik and his squad of scouts knew about his ability to shapeshift, but he didn’t want to give away any of his secrets, just in case they were leading him into an ambush.

As it turned out, two days later, he discovered that the residents of Ironshore had been entirely truthful as to the nature of the threat. He stood on a hill, crouching low at the tree line, and looking out at a camp containing thousands of orcs.

“God. This is going to get really ugly, isn’t it?” he muttered, using Eyes of the Eagle to get a good look at the creatures.

Beside him, Kurik said, “Damn right it is. Damn right.”