Chapter 63: Ch.58: Aftermath

“Dungeon shards and dungeon cores are nigh indestructible, short of a spell of [Stellaris’ Skyfall], no weapon nor magic has been known to leave a dent on the things. Not even a scratch. In fact, some of them have been known to unleash their own magic towards whoever would seek to destroy them. The only way to shut down a dungeon for good therefore, is always to separate the core from its control artifice…and that is not without its difficulties. For some reason, extracting a core from its emplacement always caused the monsters within the dungeon to become frenzied. ”.-Excerpt from, The Legacy of Antecessors, Adventurers Guild Archives, Kingsfell.

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The inside of the manor was arguably, in a better condition than the outside. Arthur hadn’t seen that because he had been well, spirited away before setting foot past the gate. When he stepped out on the front porch, he was astounded to see that grass had proliferated on the lawn, growing as tall as the chromastone garden lamps.

The courtyard was covered under several vella of leaf litter , and some crawling green and other weeds had already intruded into the flagstones. Creepers had proliferated to the point of strangling the stacked pebble fountain that stood in the middle, dry as bone and filled to the brim with dead foliage as well.

The procession of trees near the perimeter wall also bowed low with unpruned boughs, like weeping dryads lining the carriageway. At least the garden lamps still worked. Then Arthur stood before the gate, Nora and Margaery flanking him to the sides.

On the other side of the gate and keeping a respectful distance from an unseen demarcation was the [Quartermastresse] in her cropped Guild blazer and the same ensemble as Arthur had seen her last. She was still sharp as ever and accompanying her were the two Guild clerks, Hanna and the other teenage boy whose name escaped him.

The other individual was an aloof and bookish looking man with sunflower blonde hair.Loupe goggles as thick as the lenses at the bottom of a bottle dangled against his off white long coat. He had aquamarine eyes and non-prominent cheekbones were well complimented by a straight nose and a pencil moustache sitting above moderately thin lips.

Naturally, his moustache was as blonde as his eyebrows and that went doubly so for his friendly mutton chops. But there was nothing friendly about his countenance whatsoever. Despite his sunny appearance, he had the serious look of a sharp professor. A carriage stood some ways behind with two uni-horned equine-like stallions pawing at the cobblestones while a stern-faced butler stood aside an open door. Even before he saw the einhyrnd carriage outside the gate, Arthur knew the man was important.

“ Mage Crafter Arthur, we meet again,” [Quartermastresse] Isignel called out. There was a hint of relief in her voice at her meeting.

“ And I as well,” Arthur said as he approached.

“ Truly, I appear to have underestimated you―” she smirked, shaking her head. “ Ah, apologies, with me here is Lalilab's patriarch, “ she paused looking at the sculptures atop the gate. They hadn’t so much as moved a peep. “ Would you?” she motioned towards the gate. She showed an inscrutable expression at the golem who’d accompanied them outside.

“ Ah, of course, my apologies,” Arthur said as his eyes flitted to the golem standing with their hands inside their butterfly sleeves. They had been right behind Nora. As if intuiting, a subtle flash of their crescent lidded eyes heralded the sliding of the gate to the sides with a creaking groan.

‘Ah, just another thing to add to the list of housekeeping,’ Arthur thought as he cringed at the wailing grate. While the trio of Isignel and the guilder’s hesitated a heartbeat, the Lalilab’s patriarch was not one to shy away from taking hurried strides past the unseen threshold. And that was much to the exasperation of Hanna who, Arthur mentally facepalmed, realising that she was his daughter or granddaughter. It was hard to get a bead on the man’s age for all he knew, the man might have been an octogenarian.

“ So this is the Mage Crafter you spoke of,” the man spoke with an indifferent, clipped and almost aristocratic accent. Then his indifferent scowl and furrowed eyebrows morphed into something else. The man shot out his ungloved right hand as a smile broke upon his face; then Arthur noticed the laughter lines.

“ Well met Mage Crafter, “ the man said as he limply shook Arthur’s hand. Arthur hadn’t noticed that he’d given his own hand in return.

“ Of course. Much obliged,” Arthur muttered. The man smelled faintly of alchemical reagents and had the oaky notes of a heavy cologne that evoked the illusion of a majestic tree sitting in the midst of a vale; a type of synthesiac perfume to mask his dalliance with his craft.

“ Faaaather, that is not how people introduce themselves” Hanna Lalilab called out flustered as she came alongside. She gave a subtle , almost shy curtesy as the rest of the quartet pulled up alongside.

“ Ah, where are my manners? I acquaint oneself as the [Aetheric-Alchemist], Edel Lalilab, specialist extraordinaire in the field of Aetheric Alchemy, graduand of the Xzerion Institute and Academy for Magecraft class of Vetur, year 1477,”

The span of less than 5 heartbeats, Arthur was assailed with a wealth of information that left him off kilter. Firstly, the fact that the man in front of him didn’t look a day over fifty, secondly, the class consolidation and the field of study that might have flown right over his head. If there was an arcane equivalent of a chemistry and physics professor, it would have been the man in front of him. And it showed in his eccentricity.

“ Ahem,” Arthur cleared his throat, starting out of his daze. The introduction had left him at an impasse. It was common etiquette to introduce oneself with classes especially if they were the vocation leaning classes; only combat and also, generic classes subscribed to another whole different criterion of rules.

“ I am obliged to make your acquaintance Master Lalilab, I acquaint myself as Arthur Löwenmaul,” he said. “ I am a Mage crafter by trade; partly self taught.”

Of course he’d ommitted some details, but they were harmless so long as it was the truth that he told.

“ Oho, is that so?” the [Aetheric-Alchemist] said, drawing his head back with mirth. The light shone with glee in his eyes. “ Acquired [Tinkerer’s Knack] for your first step of the path, didn't you?”

Arthur could not deny that the man had an infectious, if eccentric personality. Before he knew it, he was introducing Nora; Margaery of course introduced herself and then they were making their way towards the house while the gate slid shut behind them.

 

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They had tea. Sylvani barley tea , Valerian tea and a couple of other floral infusions did not lack in the manor. At least they were the dry goods that had kept well under the preservation of enchantments.

Arthur did not have to step in the kitchen to know it had an almost similar lay out to a sylvani kitchen, with the petrified wooden countertop, enchanted faucets and an island style cooker plate. But their beverage was, surprisingly, prepared by the golem maid without prompting. There was some silence as everyone savoured their tea and turned over their mullings.

“ To think, the eccentric Cornieva had a golem servant,” the [Alchemist] murmured with wonder. He was furtively appraising the mannerisms of the construct as well as the rest of the house.

The larger drawing room could seat enough people for a conference, though it looked as if it had never been used. It had tasteful decorations of vases and ornamental cycads, another pygmy frostpine sat in its own tub suffusing the air with its fragrance. An Ossyrian rug decked the faux wooden floor while exotic paintings of shifting sand decorated the walls.

“ I imagine someone would give a handsome price for it,” Isignel said, peering past her cup. She was being overt about her curiosity as to Arthur’s intentions. “ But it doesn’t seem like it was wealth that you were after, aye?”

“ That obvious eh?” Arthur said, hiding a pained smile.

“ In hindsight mayhaps,” Isignel said turning contemplative. The crows feet and reiterated her habit of scrunching her eyes when thinking deeply about something.

“ There is also something different about you. I cannot tell whether you’re a mere mage crafter or an [Aeromancer],”she said. Realisation seemed to widen her slit-lidded eyes.

“ Ah, you rid yourself of your ring of obfuscation? I see, it was mainly to contain your aura; now everyone who tries to scry your class can barely peel back your auric field…”

“ Hmm?” Arthur grunted with an enquiring brow.

“ What she means to say is, anyone who is not your match would be hard pressed to [Analyse] you,” Alchemist Edel said, squinting at Arthur. He frowned. “ Your aura has the same flavour as the Guild master.”

“ It is true,” Hanna piped up. Thus far she’d been shying away from conversation but she put that across. “ Whereas the Guild Master’s aura is a roiling storm, yours evokes the feeling of a thunderhead that could lash out anytime.”

“ Oh…is that so? That is a relief…” Arthur said. If anything, the ring of obfuscation had grown stifling to some extent. Perhaps its overheating had to do with the fact it was fighting auras on two fronts, an intrusion as well as Arthur’s own inhuman aura.

“ Onto weightier matters,” the [Quartermastresse] prompted. “ What is it you seek to do with the manor and its fixtures?”

“ Indeed, much time time has passed waiting for the day one would breach impenetrable wards that even dwarven wardmasters had tried and failed to,” Edel added “ I imagine Ascal had a secret lair with an untold wealth of artefacts and research left after he disappeared in decades hence…” his eyes shone with barely contained avarice.

“ Why the presumption that he would not return to reclaim his residence?” Arthur asked. Edel shared a look with the Quartermastresse as though it was obvious.

“ Ah, you must hail from further than I thought. You see, the town has statutes concerning easement of land and property,” Edel put across. Then Edel explained why for those living on the frontier, private property would pass on either to the council or to another private individual if it had not been enjoyed for a period exceeding a dozen years.

With no will or immediate inheritor, whoever claimed it on a first come basis would take possession of it. Frontierfolk were rather pragmatic people and given the dangers of their living it might have seemed justified. Perhaps Ascal knew that too.

‘Then I am lucky that I even claimed it at all…the deterrences were enough of a hindrance that even greedy grubbers thought twice.’

“ But never have I heard of intrusion measures as punitive as this manor,” Edel supplied. “ And to think that you of all people, barely past the second step managed to harmlessly unravel the wards.” He shared a look with his daughter who looked abashed. Hanna had no doubt taken an altogether different story to the man. Isignel must have been at the Lalilab’s manor during the incident.

“ I think I shall keep the manor,” Arthur said, letting that hang in the air. “ Intact, with all its particulars…”

The Guilder teenage boy who had been silent all the while sputtered, almost choking on his tea. He yelped when the golem was suddenly shoving a napkin into his hands then looked away burning in embarrassment. The adult’s surprise was subtler. Edel seemed to have a furrow of contemplation while Isignel had an unreadable expression and was drumming her nail on the table.

“ Is there something that you found that is worth standing against factions that outstrip you in terms of power and reach?” Edel asked. “ Of particular interest, Ascal’s intellectual property could fetch thousands of crowns at an auction. The golem alone is worth half the cost of a sloop…assuming it comes with the house. I don’t even need to tell you how much the house is worth, you could practically be set for life if you just sell them all and be done with it…” he paused to wet his throat.

“ Even if you have the wealth to hire a mercenary company to guard the property, you will be dry ere the year ends,” he added. “ Unless…” he let that statement hang in the air

“ Unless the wards remain in functioning condition,” the guild boy completed the statement. Several eyes stared back at Arthur’s in disbelief.

“ I thought that was obvious?” Arthur said, draining the last of his tea. The golem refilled it from an enchanted kettle.

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“But how…wait, have we not overlooked something?” the Guild boy blurted out. “ How did the wards remain powered for so long? What happened to the missing adventurers and people who tried to break the wards?”

He suddenly realised how he’d spoken out and squirmed when the collective weight of everyone’s gazes shifted to him.

“Astute. It must have escaped my mind…” Edel murmured, steepling his one gloved hand over his bare one.

“ That makes this even doubly dangerous…Wards or not, there is no lack of people who would endanger your life just to unravel the manor’s magic,” Isignel said steepling her hands. She narrowed her eyes, “ Tell me Arthur Sturm, is it a relic?”

“ Unfortunately I cannot say,” Arthur said. Looks of disappointment crossed his audience’s faces.

“ But…even the Guard won’t stand for a relic class item within the town. They have to certify that it is safe,” the guild clerk said, growing ever bolder. Nods went around the table.

“ I see, that is why you readily ingratiate yourself with the guild,” Isignel remarked with a knowing glance.

“ Of course I knew there were conditions involved,” Arthur said. “ I believe I can make it worth your while…” Arthur said. Every single gaze snapped to rapt attention. Slowly sipping his fresh cup of tea, Arthur looked askance at the two youngest members of the table. The teenagers knew what was up and didn’t need prompting to know that it was not for their ears.

‘Can you?’ Arthur sent a telecry hail Nora’s way.

Citing preparation for the infirmary Nora excused herself,taking a grumbling Margaery with her. After they’d left and a golem maid barred the way―

“ Well then, we’re listening…” [Quartermastresse] Isignel prompted.

“ Have you ever thought of alternative means to acquire your own ships?” Arthur began with a smile.

The silence was deafening.

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“ [Prompt]; [Recall] memory archive chronicled on the 33rd of the third month of Aestas, approximate year between AC 1500 and 1502.”

“ Result; Unable to comply,” the golem responded.

“ Hah,” Arthur sighed, rubbing a crick at the back of his name. “ I suppose I expected too much.”

The closed door meeting had been relatively fruitful, but it felt like both a hot seat and a startup pitch in front of seasoned executives. Edel Lalilab, unlike his daughter, lacked social graces and was rather blunt but when it came to bargaining? The Alchemist was tenacious; though he professed that were it his wife, Arthur wouldn’t have fared any better.

On the other hand, Isignel looked like she had been determined to milk him for all his worth. Maybe dangling the workings of the hoverboard so soon had been a bit premature. However, given the situation, it was the only collateral he could show them. Now he had the backing of the Guild and one Merchant house.

What he gained from both was some cushioning; Edel would confer with his wife, the actual proprietor of their alchemical enterprise to help stall the news of the manor’s acquisition. Afterwards, they would act as a buffer against predatory merchants like the Phylandirs who could stoop to underhanded means.

The Guild was a non-issue, but their cooperation was contingent on a number of concessions, like returning the personal effects of the adventurers who might not have been fortunate to survive the mansion like him. Assuming he found them at all. That, among other things, was going to be notarised in a geas contract.

The mention of geas had left the taste of sand in his mouth when he recalled that Aeskyre had placed one on him without his consent but he stamped down on that feeling.

A geas contract was an altogether different thing and was presided by a [Scribe-Acolyte] from the Heptad. Just because they had made enticing concessions did not mean they could rely on a gentleman’s agreement. For better or for worse, having a contract to enforce their transactional relationship was welcome.

Outside the contract however, he was to present a working aership by the beginning of the season of Ceres, Eryth’s equivalent of autumn. He had to appease the Guild for not grilling him about the manor’s other artefacts and make it worth their time to vouch for his protection. However, just a proof of concept would suffice; a working aership was far too much for one person to complete within that time frame. But first, he had to see the ship; having the schematics at hand was not good enough.

After he had seen Nora off with the others, and agreed to pick up the dhampir when she hailed, Arthur decided to pick up from where he left off. There was a lot to unpack, both in the workshop and in the library, a house to survey and a lot of quillwork to prepare for. He also had a job at the Guild to do after all―

“ Then there is the ever elusive magier core,” he grumbled as he side-eyed the golem walking behind him. Like the chronicled memory, the golem seemed to have lost the location of the magier core. Neither did the reverse side of Volemhir’s letter mentioning the passglyph have anything else save for assurances that he would not garner trouble from the sylvani pursuit.

Of course Arthur seethed on the roundabout way he’d been strung along for a convoluted scheme. It was only exacerbated by a long winded warning of something about his being dragon-touched, veiled in verbosity and superfluous explanations. It was a staggering bomb shell of draconian proportions that he did not see coming. He was almost half-inclined to crumple the letter there and then but only just―

‘Frag, I do not have time for this,’ He gritted his teeth with frustration; he was grateful that Nora was not around to see the look on his face. ‘Just when I thought things were going my way too?’ he groaned.

Needing a cooler head, he mulled whether to pick up from where he’d left on the levitator as they made a circuit around the residence. He was overdue for a tour of the manor and he wanted to know it front to end before he hit the sack for the night.

The manor curved front to back with two wings ensconcing the glass dome in the middle. It could be accessed from the top most floor of the library or either of the two wings that hemmed it from the sides and could be seen from the gate too. It had what appeared to be a guest wing with oriental style baths with heating enchantments on the furthest end of the left hallway.

Save for a generic furnishing of beds, wardrobes and dressers, there was nothing to imply that anyone had ever used them. The same also held true for the wing of the master bedrooms. Everything was bare and untouched. It would have been a momentous task to keep the manor habitable without a tireless golem and the automatons that skittered in the recesses of the house, keeping pests at bay.

From the inside, Arthur went through the living room and drawing room, then the kitchen and storeroom on the first floor. After that, he stepped outside, eager to find the other fixtures of the house and the backyard.

The glass dome, it turned out, was a well kept terrarium housing a collection of exotic plants both arcane and mundane. The selection of flora was an approximation of Earth-like plants that could be found on Eryth.

‘So Asaharu and Edel were passing acquaintances, through glasshouses and the weeping blossoms on the carriageway,’ Arthur mulled stepping across a flagstone pathway. A trimmed carpet of grass-like moss colonised every inch of the terrarium, planters in the shape of inverted bell jars spilled bioluminescent vinery from the ceiling, while a hedge walled off an entire side of the terrarium creating labyrinthine passage.

In the middle was a gazebo with a table of marble oak and three with cushions and ornate headrests like a faerie tale version of a princess's tea pavilion.

‘ Welp, Asaharu truly was eccentric,’ Arthur muttered as he panned his eyes across the space. A pond slowly bubbled in a corner, with one of those ornamental fixtures that filled up with water and tipped, making musical notes like a xylophone. A species of nymph blooms with a notched triplet of leaflets growing out of the pond sending its roots to the bottom.

‘No fish unfortunately,’ Arthur observed.

Even for the previous master, the placement of the gazebo was incongruous to everything he’d seen so far. The library and the workshop were easily spoken for, but the terrarium was pure sentimentality.

“ And the location of the aership should be right outside this door,” Arthur muttered, pushing open the elytra-like doors with venous filigree.

‘Whoa, that’s one massive yard.’ Arthur gawked. And the perimeter wall seemed like a tennis court’s worth of it. Forked, spear-like tines crackled with magic over the wall and right behind a grove of trees that hid the bare wall of fieldstone.

And right above that was the manor’s large ward that kept out intrusion. Its soap bubble like shimmer was visible against the bruising sky. Like the front lawn, the backyard was also overgrown with grass and the garden was in dire need of tending.

A flagstone path like the one in the terrarium split a ways off to round on both wings of the house, but the left side ended up in a lot where a structure like a pillbox rose out of the ground.

Squat doors arched like an abandoned underground hangar from the Soviet era. Rainfed, green and brown trailed down from the sod that was its roof as a pair of rails came to a stop at a barricade in front of the lot. An accretion of soil, washed there by years of rainfall filled the bottom of the large double doors.

“Ah, there you are,” Arthur remarked as his eyes gleamed. His frame shook like a giddy kid on the night after christmas. His strides immediately paced up as he walked to its imposing facade. The golem was unsurprisingly right on his tail, gliding across the ground with unhurried poise.

“ [Prompt], open doors,” Arthur directed with breathless awe.

“ As you wish Master,” the golem droned, ever the impassive ceramic face. The ground rumbled as bits of detritus shook from the upper threshold of the barn hangar doors. Steel wheels shrieked, grating against their recessed rails.Decades of soil accretion dislodged and crumbled.

Under a par, a yawning entrance stood where the sliding blast doors had been, descending into darkness. Dry, stale air that smelled of mulch and mildew emanated from the ingress; chromastone sconces lit up on either side of the passage, descending to the bottom of a ramp which Arthur could not see the end of.

For several pars Arthur’s footsteps echoed down the ramp as the golem dutifully trailed after him. The ramp levelled out at the bottom and Arthur came to a stop at a landing where the rails just overlooked a hangar dock of sorts. Though he’d anticipated what awaited, his surprise escalated as he saw what sat in the bottom of a fabrication assembly.

“ She’s beautiful,” Arthur breathed with awe.

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