Chương 22: Chapter Twenty One: Gnoll Rest for the Wicked

X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X Chapter Twenty One: Gnoll Rest for the Wicked X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X"Watchnya' drawing?" I glanced up from the pad of paper I had been agonizing over for the past few days to find one of Mia's many cat-shifters looking over my shoulder, taking in the rough schematics of an airship I had laid out in excruciating detail. The brunette's cat-like ears twitched back, tail lashing as her hand fearlessly snapped out, attempting to snatch the paper.

Before she could even touch it, I twisted my wrist as I called upon my magic with a muttered spell. She fell back with a screech when a ball of water hit her full in the face. The girl blinked up at me from the ground, staring wide-eyed as I lowered my outstretched paw. The man next to me at the bar looked sadly into his suddenly empty glass of water, having just watched it magically lift up and fly away. I just raised a single eyebrow at the now-soaked girl before turning back to my work with a snort.

The girl jumped up with all the grace of an angry cat, hissing in rage.

"What the Hel was nyat for!"

"Don't touch my stuff," I responded, not bothering to look up at the furious cat-shifter as I put the finishing touches on the Cloudreaver-class's aether engine pod… or at least, how I remember it looking. It had been quite a while since I– Max, I mean, saw one. In fact, it was during one of the very first things the big lug and I did together. Some campaigns start in taverns, others in jail just before the breakout. Our one?

It started on an airship as it plummeted from the skies, the victim of a pissed-off flock of wyverns. Our group wasn't part of the crew or anything like that, just travelers who happened to be hitching a ride. Good times. We made the DM absolutely livid when the group, after narrowly avoiding certain death by launching from a life pod mere moments before it was too late, collectively decided to turn on our heels and march back to the crash site to loot the remains. Again, good times.

And that ship was the RAC Wytch Tamer, a Cloudreaver-class transport ship; Similar to a barque in both size and function. I gave the final drawing one last look over before I dismissed my Wizardly Quill. It was almost certainly missing details, but I think I got most of it right. The end result is a sweeping, razor-sharp design. The keel swept across the page, hard and shallow, designed to slice its way through the skies no matter the weather.

A series of oar-sails lined the hull, perfect for steering the ship as the main masts caught the wind. It was an elegant, tasteful design. One that artfully combined aesthetics and functionality. Too bad her original designers neglected to include more robust self-defense measures when they laid her down. A mistake I would not be repeating when I cribbed their style. Ripping out the page, I put it aside and re-cast my Wizardly Quill.

Using the Cloudreaver as inspiration, I started sketching my own take on a fast-attack airship. All of those filigreed hull plates and fancy banisters? Gone. It was unnecessary weight–weight that would be better spent on more armor and guns. Three masts? Also gone. A pair of jet engines mated to the Aether lift pods would really get this baby moving, no wind required. The mizzen mast could stay, though. Partly as an emergency backup in case the engines get damaged, but mostly for aesthetics.

If I mounted the engine pods on each side of the craft, like a zeppelin, then I could also toss the air-oars and just use differential steering to turn the ship. Naturally, the core of the ship would be built around a spinal weapon; Either a railgun or a mana-lance, I haven't decided yet. Depends on whether or not I need a city or a small continent blown up, I guess. Also, who the hell thinks wood is an acceptable material to be building airships out of these days?

You'd think the Republic would have learned that lesson after the Chroma Crisis, but I guess not. I stenciled in a note pointing to the armored plates of the craft, denoting it as Orichalcum–Aluminum alloy… which I quickly scribbled out and rewrote under the far more marketable name of Elyrium. I leaned back to fully take in my work and– Ah shit, it's just an Iron Clad.

The ship I drew was a big, fat, brutalist, flying brick–With two giant A-10-esque engine pods on the sides, a muzzle brake bigger than my entire body poking out the front, and a skimpy-ass mast sticking up from the back. Maybe I'm not cut out for this kind of work, and should stay in my own lane. Let other people worry about paltry things like aesthetics or basic aerodynamics. I'll focus on the important bits, like how big the gun can be before simply firing the thing rips the ship apart.

With a sigh, I looked up to grab Mia's attention so I could order a fresh drink, only to find the cat-shifter still glaring daggers at me, along with another Link lookalike. The elf was looking between the two drawings with pinched eyebrows. To be honest, I had forgotten their names nearly the second I'd been told them. By now, it was way too awkward to ask.

"I am sorry to pry, Mister Maddic, but… what are these?" Not-Link asked, and I noticed quite a bit of the activity in the restaurant slowing down as the folks paused to listen in.

"Airships," I said with a shrug.

"I've been thinking about how to spend my commission from Hephaestus, and figured that what I really needed was transport for shipping goods out farther than just Orario. These are just concept mockups, though. I won't be ready to start laying one down for a good while yet." Both of them just blinked at me uncomprehendingly. The cat-shifter's anger was momentarily forgotten as she scrutinized the Cloudreaver with new eyes.

"Wait, these things are supposed to fly?! How?"

"Well, the ones in my homeland use enchanted Brumestone for aerostatic lift. Though, if there is an equivalent mineral around these parts, then I haven't found it yet. I have been playing around with the idea of a Levitate enchantment fueled by an array of Deep-Dungeon Monster Stones. It'd be inefficient as all hell, but it'd work… probably." I finished, dropping into an embarrassed mutter at the end.

The only thing that made Lighter-Than-Air aircraft back in Exandria economically viable was the existence of Brumestone. Without it, traditionally enchanted airships would have operating costs in thousands of gold just to keep them airborne, as the enchantments would need near constant maintenance. I was banking on the relative ease of acquiring Monster Stones to offset the costs in the form of ready-made fuel, but if the experiments I was planning didn't pan out, then I was going to have to get creative.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"How is that going, by the way?" The gruff voice of Mia pulled me from my thoughts. The freakishly tall dwarf thumped a fresh mug at my side as she took away the empty ones.

"That thing you have going with Lady Hephaestus, I mean. I've been hearing some crazy rumors floating around about it." Her mouth pulled up into a toothy smirk, leaning in as she shamelessly dug for gossip.

"Like the fact that you got paid ten billion to work for her."

"Only two, actually." I corrected her, offhandedly as I got to work redesigning my flying brick.

"And I'm not working working for her, it's just a one-off commission to build her some tools. The job's almost done, anyway. I just gotta' put the finishing touches on some things before I can finally close it out fully." Her eyes flashed with triumph.

"It's nice to finally get some real answers. Lady Hephaestus and her familia have been so frustratingly tight-lipped about the whole ordeal." I paused at that, slowly realizing I might have just fucked up.

"Uhhh… no further comment." Mia threw back her head and cackled.

"Too late, hyena-boy! I got what I needed." She dropped her muscular arms onto the countertop and leaned way in, grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

"I'm a bartender, Max. And my business is rumors and gossip first, food and drink second. And today? Business is good." X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X The Mage Hand drifted slowly through the abandoned building, a metal bar held tightly in its grasp. The ghostly-blue paw skirted around cobwebs, slowly easing its way into the living room of what was once a luxurious townhome. Now, all that was left was rotted-through wood and the remains of furniture that had long-since been ravaged by time.

A breeze drifted in through the broken-open bay window, fluttering the moth-bitten curtains and sending eddies of dust swirling through the air. The hand floated to a stop over one of the doorways leading further into the house. For there, all but invisible in the mid-afternoon sun, was a gossamer-thin thread. The hand followed the string to a dark corner hidden by the door frame. There, it found a small wooden box with a pull-pin sticking out of the side.

Delicately, carefully, the Mage Hand slid the bar of a ratcheting clamp through the pin and screwed down the clamps onto the box itself. Moment of truth–the paw drifted down and ripped out the wire. From my place in the front door of the building, I ducked low behind my tower shield, mouth open and eyes firmly shut. After a few seconds of nothing happening, I slowly stuck my head back over the rim of the shield and found the pull-pin still firmly in place.

Letting out a hissed breath from between my teeth, I had my Mage Hand ease the box up from the ground and give it a good shake. When even that failed to garner a response, I had my Mage Hand bring the box to the center of the room. With my real paw, I reached into my BoH and withdrew a claw hammer. Handing it off to the ghostly appendage, I had it slowly work out all the nails holding the box together.

With the nails out, the Hand firmly grasped the lid of the box and started to lift it awa- I found myself suddenly flat on my back, staring up at an overcast sky, ears ringing insistently with a roaring tinnitus. Flames and smoke belched from the doorway as the poor home finally gave up the ghost, collapsing inwards as the roof caved in with a thundering, earthshaking crash. The wet and moldy wood thankfully smothering the growing fire before it could truly grow into a raging inferno.

Rolling over to my side with a groan, I hacked out a smoky, wet cough as I fumbled for a Health Potion. Downing the life-saving cough syrup with desperate gulps, I threw the empty vial away to shatter against the stone pavement. Taking a moment to enjoy the cooling, refreshing feeling of the potion taking effect–wiping away the aches and burns as if they had never been, I levered myself back to my feet and started limping away as fast as I could before anyone could come and investig–"MAX!

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?" Dammit. X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X How could it possibly come to this? I sat hunched over, in my own living room no less, with my ears pinned flat and my paws on my knees, head ducked low as Hestia continued to lay into me with a spitting, vicious vitriol that would have had Kord himself begging her to become one of his chief priestesses. Like she had been, for the past half an hour.

"-I don't believe it! I don't believe it! I knew he was crazy! I knew he was insane! But I didn't know my boss was suicidal! Why else would he be playing around with Evilus bombs!" The tiny goddess hissed, arms waving above her head as she all but frothed at the mouth in incandescent rage.

"What, were you going to bring one of those things back here?! Where hundreds of people go through every day, Hel, where I work every day? Huh?! Answer me, you dummy! You idiot! What, is there nothing but fur between those ears of yours?!"

"I just wanted to see how they worked," I muttered in my own defense.

"If those Evilus guys figured out a way to make a Monster Stone expend all its mana at once, then! -""Then what? You could learn how to make those things explode better?" She hissed.

"Pretty sure you make things explode just fine as-is!"" Then," I cut in, my patience rapidly deteriorating.

"I could improve them, make them safe, make them better than just some fucking slapdash IEDs. I can think of hundreds of uses for that kind of tech. I already admitted I messed up, alright? I didn't think to check for redundant firing mechanisms. But I won't apologize for trying to get a working example of one." She held her glare for a few moments more before slumping in exhausted defeat. Falling back into a nearby chair, she ran a hand through her hair.

"What the Hel did I get myself into with this job?" Her scowl came back in full force as she shot me a death stare.

"And why the Hel is the pay too good to walk away from?"

"Well, excuse me for being such a generous boss," I grunted, crossing my arms.

"And… fine. I guess you have a point on bringing them back here being a bad idea. I'll think of a better place to store my more… volatile work. Maybe I'll look into buying a satellite location or something." Hestia let loose another groan, sliding down even further into her chair.

"But you won't stop trying. Why couldn't I have found a nice, normal place to work at? One that isn't trying to revive a weapon responsible for ruining half the city!" We sat in silence, stewing in our own thoughts for a bit. I rubbed a paw down the singed fur of my arm, mentally patting myself on the back for thinking of bringing a tower shield. Probably saved more than just my eyebrows with it.

"I'm sorry for yelling." Hestia finally admitted quietly, turning from where she was staring a hole into the table to meet my eyes.

"I'm just worried that the first real friend I've made in Genkai is going to get himself killed by being an idiot!" First friend? Unbidden, a warm and fuzzy feeling spread through my belly as I looked at her. I had to fight down a smile as I nodded.

"Okay, I promise to be more careful going forward. I'm sorry for worrying you." She made no effort to hide her own relieved smile.

"Thank you. That's all I ask, Max."

"I'm still gonna' get my paws on a Monster Stone Bomb, though." Her expression froze on her face, hands tightening into fists.