Chương 60: The Stormveil

The party knew they were getting close when the monsters began to attack. For much of their journey, the local critters had left them alone. The wagon moved slowly, much slower than Foxhill's old carriage and therefore vulnerable to the odd ambush or two. No such ambush came, and this despite the party passing next to a Grandelope pack on more than one occasion. Of course, the peace and quiet were thanks to Jordan's newly crafted [Bear Fur Mantle]—a deterrent against low-level monster encounters.

Which, conveniently enough, also served as the canary in a coal mine. In other words, the party knew they were getting close when the low-level monsters began to attack with impunity. <Monster Sheet> Name: Grandelope Class: Sprinter, Lv. 8 Vessel: Gland of Rushing Steppe Status: Frenzied There it was. That strange byproduct of Garuda Akula's magic, more pronounced than ever since the tornado incident. Evidently, [Frenzy] was potent enough to override the intimidating effects of [Bear Fur Mantle].

The wagon moved slowly, far too slowly for Foxhill to employ the same tactics as last time. So, the Pathfinder untethered one of the horses and took it for a ride, to then weave through the Grandelopes and snipe them from horseback. Some real Jedi horse-archer shit, which was as ridiculously cool in practice as it sounded in Jordan's head. But alas, he couldn't just sit and admire the show. After all, he was now a soldier with multiple fights under his sash.

As Jordan hopped off the wagon with [Spear] in hand, Canyon joined him by his side. The Chronicler had pre-[Copied] Foxhill's [Manipulate Ropes], which temporarily turned her into an imitation Tetherer. Nothing with the scale or artistry of Pewter Sapling's magic, but she did just enough to trip up the occasional Grandelope or two, the better for Jordan to stab stab stab them to death. With Foxhill ranging and Jordan-Canyon staying home, the party made short work of the [Frenzied] Grandelopes.

And when it came time to harvest their Glands, Jordan held his own in that arena as well, digging into those fourth intercostal spaces like no one's business." Not bad, Westerner," Foxhill appraised, mocking yet serious.

"In fact, based on that performance, I'm willing to split the loot half and half. You and Miss can figure out how to divide that half among yourselves." Canyon looked at Jordan questioningly, but the latter had already done the math." You take all of it," he said and meant it.

"[Copying] off-spec spells is expensive, whereas I didn't spend a single cc of VR. You need that mana more than I do."" And you will need it more once you open that first Gate of Ascension. No, Jordan. I insist that you take all of it, the better to ease—even if by a trifle—what promises to be a long and arduous journey." Charisma DC 15: failure N üwa: "Oh, for heaven's sake, you two are the most insuff—"" Oh, for Nüwa's sake!" Foxhill cried.

"You two are the most insufferable pair of goody-goodies I've ever met! Just split the loot evenly and be done with it!" In this case, whoever felt the most aggrieved by the proceedings wore the pants in the party. Which was how Jordan ended up with three Glands of Rushing Steppe. Since the party didn't have a Manasmith to convert the Glands into crystals, Jordan would have to hold onto them until he had the VC to accommodate the influx. The trio moved on.

And they knew they were getting even closer when they came upon Garuda Akula's trail of destruction. Blue River. A fortified settlement along the northern edge of Featherift and indeed Stormvast at large, named after the river that ran along its cliffside. In days of yore, it served as lookout for invading monster hordes, a function it had more or less retained even in times of relative peace.

But before Jordan could look upon the town's features, his attention was arrested by a sight far greater, far stranger, far more terrifying. The locals and indeed even the gods inside his head had warned him of its existence, but no amount of foreknowledge could've prepared him for… … the Stormveil. It was the trippiest thing. Behind Jordan spread the Featherifter sky, as cloudless and blue as the day he first laid eyes on it. Yet before him rose a wall of clouds, so dark and so dense as to appear almost solid.

The wall stretched across the land unbroken, effectively forming a border to mark where the world ended. Occasionally, the clouds would light up with bright electric sparks, which was how they got the name'Stormveil'. And because this land could only spread as far and wide as the veil would let it, the people who called it home had named their nation'Stormvast'. As soon as Jordan picked his jaw up off the floor, he found himself breaking into a wry smile.

He understood what this Stormveil was, perhaps better than any of the locals did. But because he understood, he also couldn't share the knowledge without breaking something precious, something sacred, something fundamental to the Stormvasters' way of life. Intelligence DC 30: failure Fuxi:"I fail to see what you're getting at, pupil. The Stormveil is the Stormveil. Nothing more and nothing less." So, at least in this aspect, even the gods here were frogs in the well compared to Jordan the outsider.

He didn't know how to feel about that, so he decided to put the thought away. Focus on the here and now. Focus on what was real and important to him right now, like— Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more." I've been to Blue River once before," Foxhill yelled from the driver's seat as the wagon rolled closer to the northern edge of Featherift—closer to the Stormveil.

"Quiet. Quaint. Pretty boring compared to the city, but at least the people could carry a decent tune or two. But now…" Now, the place was in ruins. Even outsider Jordan could see that right away. Crumbling walls and torn-up tents. It looked as though a powerful storm had passed through it. And in a very real sense, that was exactly what had happened. As he took in the destruction, Jordan's thoughts naturally went to Rowan— a Gym Rat OG and Blue River native.

It'd taken a not-so-easy [Wisdom] check to convince the blustery young man to sit out this mission. Now that Jordan had seen the state of Blue River, he was at once glad for his own discretion and sorry that he'd taken the choice away from Rowan. Wisdom DC 13: success Shennong:"Don't forget, young one, that you're not only doing this for yourself. This is for Featherift, for the Garuda, and for the friends awaiting your safe return." The party disembarked in what used to be the town center.

From there, they conducted their search on foot. A search for clues and, with any luck, signs of Garuda Akula herself." This was no ordinary storm," Foxhill noted as the trio passed through a ruined market, wares and trinkets abandoned and strewn in the mud.

"Look. Gouge marks. Don't know any storms that do that."" That's because it wasn't a storm," Jordan asserted.

"A horde of [Frenzied] monsters overpowered the Rangers stationed here and overran the town. This is worse than that time with the tornado."" And you reckon you know how to calm the storm, so to speak? Get through to the bird lady and make her see sense… what, with that cauldron of yours?"" Well, that's what I hope to find out." Foxhill made no comment, but the look he threw between Jordan and his wheelbarrow told plenty. Jordan of course couldn't blame the man.

He knew what a far-fetched idea he was pushing, even with the added insight from Canyon's history lesson. This [Voidcross] business really was a you-had-to-be-there sort of thing. He just hoped that Foxhill and Canyon could hold onto their front-row seats. The search eventually led the party to the edge of the cliff. Jordan pushed his wheelbarrow as far as he dared. He then lay on his stomach to peer over the ledge. It was a sight to behold. Craggy highland rocks on either side of a rushing river.

Yet even this snapshot of natural beauty had an eerie pall over it, cast by the otherworldly dark clouds that the river flowed into." No sign of Akula," Canyon murmured as she joined Jordan at the cliff edge. She now sounded a little hoarse, paying for all that yelling from earlier.

"Do you think she might have moved?"" Hmm, maybe? Hey, Foxhill. Try calling her name."" You really think that'll work? And why me?"" Because you and she clearly had some kind of special rapport."" Rapport? Speak plainly, Mister. Exactly what kind of rapport did you observe between me and the bird lady?"" What the Mister means"—Canyon didn't miss her chance to get in some revenge banter—"is that the bird lady likes you. And for all we know, you like her too. I second Jordan's suggestion.

If Akula is anywhere within earshot, perhaps she'll answer to the call of her erstwhile playmate." The Pathfinder glared at his two companions, looking about ready to push them off the cliff. But then he cleared his throat and," Akuuuuulaaaaaaaaaaaaa…" Foxhill's beautiful singing voice pierced the summer sky, then echoed across the craggy gorge. Ulaaa, laaa, aaa … For a while, nothing happened. And then… A gust of wind. Rising up from the gorge to hit the prone trio full in the face.

All three party members shot to their feet at once, covering their heads and bracing for more. And there she was. Plumage of verdant green. Wings that called up storms with each beat. A pot of solid bronze that followed her flight like a satellite in orbit. <Character Sheet> Name: GARUDA AKULA Race: Spiritkind Age: 55 Class: Aeromancer, Lv. 30 (Max) Vessel: The Turbulent Cauldron Akula began by circling the party, so close that her orbiting cauldron nearly hit Jordan in the head.

But then she suddenly jumped back as if she'd been bitten, before settling into an idling hover overhead, about halfway across the gorge. She didn't shriek. Didn't attack. Merely looked to the humans with mistrustful eyes, as if waiting for them to attack first." Well, Mister?" Foxhill asked in a low voice, even as he stared transfixed at the spiritkind woman.

"You gonna work your cauldron magic or what?"" I'm trying!" Jordan exclaimed, now looking frantically between Akula and his Heavenly Cauldron.

"But… it's not working. It's not glowing like it did last time! I don't know what's wrong!"" The Turbulent Cauldron isn't responding, either," Canyon observed, far calmer than the men beside her.

"You told me that, before you knew it was your cue to [Cross the Void], Akula's Vessel had signaled to you from inside her tornado. Clearly, the conditions haven't been met. But whether the deficiency is on your end, or perhaps Akula herself is closed off to your approach…"" Akula!" Jordan cried out, falling back to the most basic form of communication.

"Look, we just want to talk… figure out what's eating you up, so we can maybe put an end to all this [Frenzy] nastiness. Isn't that what you want, too? If you could just come down and talk to us—"" Careful, Mister. You're driving her away." Jordan readily saw the truth of Foxhill's words. From the way Akula had backed off even further. From the way her eyes darted from human to human, expecting any one of them to strike out at any moment. What's wrong? Does she not understand?

I thought she could communicate with humans. She used to play with Barley and the other kids from the shantytown. Then why— Charisma DC 13: success N üwa: "Language is like a muscle. Neglect it long enough and it'll atrophy, just like—" Strength DC 15: failure Zhurong:"Just like the twigs you had for arms when you first arrived, manling!" Of course. Years—no, decades—of neglect and solitude.

A spiritkind who had once opened up to humans had since closed herself off again, along with the ability to understand human speech. Along with any possibility of reconciliation. Think, Jordan thought, what can we do? How can we get through to her, if words are gibberish and the Vessels are inert? What can we use instead to— And then it hit him. At the same time as the same idea occurred to Foxhill, judging by the way the Pathfinder now turned to him with a mischievous smile."

Mister," Foxhill said, "hold the fort for me, will you, while I go and ask my sweetheart to join us."