Chapter 10: The Road to Pentil
The next morning, we set out to cross through the Hills of Jars. Another Shaper ruin - how much stuff did they build on this island? It seems sometimes like we can't walk for five minutes without stumbling over something the Shapers left behind.
As it turns out, the Hills of Jars does indeed contain many jars. I head inside and start to look through them for anything interesting.
"Don't tell me you're going to poke through every single jar in here," Sirius says.
"There might be stuff in them!" I say.
"If there were anything valuable in them, the serviles have probably taken it ages ago," Sirius points out.
"Eh, you're probably right," I say.
The place does look like it's seen a lot of traffic. There's even some bed pallets still laid out on the floor just inside the entrance. Were they left for anyone that might want to use them while coming through? Or did someone who was trying to pass through here just not make it?
Down the corridor, we come upon a locked door. I call forth my unlocking powers to open it. I don't need to wave a wand, speak any words, or focus hard on the concept of freedom for all beings, or anything else. It's so easy, and it makes me feel powerful! It was a good decision to come to this world.
Thinking about the god-like power I could obtain on this island, with enough canisters, I stride forward into the next room ahead of the others. BOOM! An explosion knocks me off my feet, followed by a series of further explosions. I collapse in a flaming heap, wondering just what happened.
I wake up in the small building at Forney's camp. Dead in the blink of an eye, and I have no idea what happened. That's a wonderful way to start the day.
When we head into the Hills of Jars again, I'm much more cautious this time. I stop in the doorway and peer forward into the room beyond. In the light of the ubiquitous glowing crystals, I see a number of puffy mushrooms dotting the floor. Little antennae on top of them twitch about this way and that. And in the middle of the room, there's a servile corpse laying on the floor, a few feet from where I think I was killed. Even if I hadn't seen the mines, if I had been paying the least bit of attention, that should have been a tip off. I'm such an idiot.
"You guys know what those things are?" I ask.
"Ugh, mines," Sirius says. "Get too close and they'll explode."
"I already figured that out the hard way," I say. "I didn't even notice they were there the first time."
"Well, pay more attention, then, silly," Sirius says, smirking.
"Hmm, so, stepping on mines got you killed," Rispy says. "Therefore, stepping on mines is bad. Don't step on mines." Rispy nods sagely. "A wise lesson to be learned from you."
"Yeah, yeah, mock all you like," I say.
I grab a rock from the ground and chuck it into the middle of the mines. It lands on the floor with a clink, and the mushrooms don't even notice it. I toss in another one, and manage to drop it right on top of one of the mines this time, to no effect.
"Smart mines," I say.
I look around to see what's on the near side of the mines. There's a door off to the right. It's also locked, so I put in some magic to unlock it and step inside. The small room contains a strange device, a waist-high metal box with a switch on the top.
"I'm betting that's a box to control the mines," Sirius says.
"A reasonable enough assumption, I suppose," I say. I flip the switch, and the box emits a faint hissing sound. I go out to approach the mines carefully, and this time they don't explode when I get close. I even poke one of them with my toe, and it does nothing. "Safe now," I say to my companions, who are standing as far away from me as they can as possible and still see what I'm doing.
"Have I ever told you that you're insane?" Rispy says as the others come up toward me again.
"I don't think so," I say. "But you wouldn't be the first to express that opinion."
We continue on past the mines. I'm much more cautious now, as this probably isn't the only patch of mines in this place. Considering that the serviles were, up until recently, using these tunnels as a shortcut between Vakkiri and Pentil, the mines must have been placed here very recently.
"So, who do you suppose put those mines there?" I say. "Those outsiders again, perhaps?"
"Blaming everything on them until proven otherwise seems like a safe bet," Sirius says.
"We serviles certainly don't grow mines," Rispy says.
Down the twisting corridors and past another locked door, I poke my head cautiously around the corner. There's some sort of plant or fungus or something, rooted into the floor in the middle of a large room. Moving tendrils on top of the plant twitch in alertness, as if waiting for something to come near.
"I take it this isn't a friendly plant, either," I say.
"First mines, and now turrets?" Sirius says. "Somebody was serious about protecting this place. Turrets will shoot thorns at enemies that come too close to them."
"I'm learning a lot about this world from Sucia Island," I comment. "And its many, many horrible ways to die."
There's another locked door on the near side of the room from the turret. I get it unlocked and head inside, and find another switchbox. A control box for the turret, I hope. I pull the switch, and a faint hissing sound comes from the box. I think it's putting out a cloud of spores or something, but it's hard to really see.
I go back out into the big room and approach the turret. I walk right up to it and pat it on the, well, top. "It's safe," I say, waving to the others to come. "It's so nice of you guys to let me test out all of the potentially deadly situations."
"We'd be crazy not to," Rispy says. "You're the one that isn't going to really die, and I certainly have no desire to get killed."
"You know, that's a way more reasonable attitude than my friends in my last life," I say. "They were constantly getting on my case for doing dangerous things, and some of them even putting themselves in harm's way to try to save me from things I didn't even need to be saved from."
"I'd rather you not go stupidly committing suicide when it's not necessary," Sirius says. "But it seems kind of silly to... wait, weren't you supposed to be at school? What in the hell were you doing?"
"I was at school that was frequently hiring Death Eaters and possessed lunatics," I say. "The werewolf was the least dangerous Defense teacher I had while there."
"Oh, Dumbledore..." Sirius says, rolling his eyes and sighing.
In the back of the room with the turrets, there's another locked door. It's protecting a storage room containing a canister - which I go and use before even looking at the rest of the room - and a handful of blue pods.
"More essence pods?" Sirius says. "I suppose it's not a bad idea to have something to replenish your magical energy. Although I've never really noticed needing it much unless I'm doing extended, high-powered magic."
"I think it takes more energy to do magic without words and a wand," I say. "Even with the canister augmentations. But I'd say that's a worthwhile tradeoff. Then there's also this weird essence stuff..."
"How does that work, anyway?" Sirius wonders.
"I'm not really sure," I say. "It's like there's this weird magical goo flowing through my body, and I can feel a little of it being used whenever I cast certain spells. And Shaping new creations, of course, forms them out of essence. Not that I've done that much. I picked up the ability to create a roamer back in the spiral burrow. I think I'll make one when we get to Pentil, assuming they have a Shaping hall there."
Near the turret room, we find a room containing a servant mind. It is awake and alert already, and looks up at me brightly as I approach.
"Shaper! I am surprised and pleased to see you. I did not think any more Shapers would come. I am Mind Pak. How can I assist you?"
"Do you know why this island was abandoned?" I ask.
"No, Shaper, I do not," Pak replies.
"What was this facility used for?" I ask.
"This was a storage facility," Pak says. "There are many useful and powerful items here that could assist you. Four shaped breastplates, one reaper baton, a pair of quicksilver boots, three augmentation canisters-"
"I hope the canisters at least are still here," I say. "Because we certainly haven't run across anything else of value."
"It was probably all looted by serviles years ago," Rispy says. "We wouldn't have touched the canisters, though."
"Looted?" Pak says. "But recently, a human came to me, claiming to be an envoy of the Shapers, and ordered me to put up defenses to protect the supplies. Was this not in line with the wishes of the Shapers?"
"No, it was not," I say. "Please deactivate the defenses immediately."
Pak closes his eyes for a moment, and then says, "It is done. The way should be clear now. I apologize for this, Shaper. I am not good at analyzing character and personality, only at remembering information."
"You're forgiven, Mind Pak," I say. "But do tell me about this human that you saw. Did you get a name?"
"He had two well-armed guards with him, and he might have been angry," Pak says. "I did hear a name, but he ordered me to forget it and not tell anyone."
"I'm a Shaper, and he was not," I say. "As such, my orders supercede his, do they not? Consider his commands to be hereby rescinded."
"This is true," Pak says. "I'm not permitted to allow you to affect protected memories, but you can alter orders." He thinks for a few long moments. "The order has been canceled."
"Now, what was the name?" I press.
"The human who ordered me to place the defenses was called Trajkov," Pak says.
"Trajkov," I repeat, frowning. "Thank you, Pak. You have done well. Goodbye."
"Trajkov, huh," Sirius says. "That's definitely not a Shaper sort of name. It sounds almost... Russian?"
In a cabinet near the servant mind, I find another jar of nutrients, and shove it into my bag. There's also a key. It probably unlocks all of these doors that I've been happily using magic on.
With that, we head out to explore the rest of the facility, hopefully without any more obstacles now. I want to find those other canisters. They aren't far away, tucked away in the various rooms of the main part of the storage facility. Notably, one of them seems to make my body move a little more quickly. There's also a handful of other miscellaneous supplies. Notably, there are definitely no shaped breastplates, reaper batons, or quicksilver boots anywhere in the area.
We emerge from the Hills of Jars and travel down into a wide, open valley. It's a lovely, pleasant place, the late afternoon sun streaming down over rolling green fields. But it's clear that not everything is well here. The crops have been torn up, and no serviles are working at the farms. This place has been hit by rogues as well, it seems.
Off to the right, sheltered away behind some rock outcroppings, I spot an encampment of armed serviles. There are about half a dozen of them, and they seem exhausted, and some of them appear to be injured. Before even stopping to speak to the one who appears to be their leader, I go over to heal the wounded.
"Shaper!" says their leader, prostrating himself on the ground. "I am Chesh Blade, of the village of Pentil. I had heard the rumors, but I had not dared to hope that you would actually come and help us!"
"How can you have heard rumors when the road to Vakkiri has been blocked off since before I even arrived on the island?" I wonder. "I suppose a clever and stubborn person could find a way around and avoid the rogues and traps, though."
Chesh looks at me in confusion, and then goes back to babbling about mighty Shapers saving them. He's extremely fatigued, and about dead on his feet. These serviles seem to belong to what serves as a sort of military for Pentil.
"Status report!" I bark, dropping into the command mode I used a lifetime ago in Dueling Club.
"Shaper, we are trapped and exhausted," Chesh says. "A horde of rogue creations blocks our way back to Pentil, in a strong defensive position, and we have not been able to pass the blockade."
"Describe the enemy forces," I say.
"We estimate that there are about ten thahds and half a dozen artilas," Chesh says. "This may not sound like much to you, but it has proved ruinous for us. But with your help, I am certain that we will be able to prevail."
"We will reinforce your position and rest up here for the night," I say. "In the morning, we will deal with these rogues."
"Yes, Shaper," Chesh says. "You have our eternal gratitude."
"Sirius, can you put some wards up around the camp?" I say.
"Aye," Sirius says, pulling out his wand and getting started on that.
I wake up in the morning and take a look at the map. Whatever Sirius was doing last night, the positions of the enemy forces are clearly marked across the valley. They're in an entrenched position with some cover, and it'll be difficult to dislodge them, especially with that many artilas to rain acid down upon us.
I grab a quick breakfast, and poke Sirius and Chesh. "We must discuss battle plans."
"Right," Sirius says, looking over the map and also showing it to the serviles. "This is where the enemy forces are located. Thahds, artilas. We'll be awfully exposed on the main route coming in."
"We can cast spells to bless and shield you, but that only goes so far," I say. "Not much help for it, though. It doesn't look like there's another way in, without circling around a very long way."
"And the way our luck is going, the other ways probably have similar problems," Rispy says.
"You see what I mean about luck?" I say, smirking.
I stand up. "Chesh, are the serviles ready to go?"
"We will be ready soon, Shaper, I assure you," Chesh says uneasily. "We just need to rest and recuperate a bit more." He doesn't look like he actually has any intention of moving willingly anytime soon, however.
I narrow my eyes at him. "Tell me now so I can make preparations either way. Do you intend to come and fight with us or not?"
"I... Shaper, we have taken many losses," Chesh says. "We are weak and tired. Please save us with your awesome powers, Shaper."
I snort softly. "Fine. Stay here, then. We'll deal with this ourselves. Sirius! Rispy! Come on. Let's take care of this."
The three of us leave the servile camp, Sparky trailing along behind us. We make our way over toward the enemy position as carefully as possible, taking out a few scouts along the way.
We engage the rogue blockade. I can't get a clear shot at the artilas. I'm so focused on trying to get an attack through to take them out that I don't notice the thahd come up behind me and break my neck.
I wake in the servile camp near Pentil. Well, that obviously didn't work out very well. Clearly, three people and one fyora is insufficient for breaking through the blockade. I get some breakfast and prepare for the battle again.
"Chesh!" I say. "Get your serviles prepared to fight. On the double, now!"
"Er, yes, Shaper," Chesh says. "We will be ready soon..."
"Not soon," I bark. "Now! I'm heading out there in fifteen minutes, and you had better be at my back when I go!"
"But..."
"Are you arguing with me, servile?" I snap. I'm not really angry with him, but if feigning anger and barking orders is what's needed to get them moving, then so be it.
"No, Shaper, of course not," Chesh says, clearly terrified. "We'll be ready. We'll be ready to fight for you, Shaper!"
When my group heads out this time, we're backed by the small group of servile warriors wielding swords and batons. Hopefully this will make the difference.
The serviles are disorganized, like they've never fought a real battle in their lives. They engage the thahds, which leaves the artilas free to take them out with acid. Half of the servile squad is down within moments. I try to give them fire support, protective and healing magic, but it's not enough. Then a glob of artila acid strikes me in the back, and I drop to the ground, screaming in agony as I die.
I wake again with a gasp. Death by acid is never fun. I mean, more than usual for dying, at any rate. What's more, I feel drained of magical energy between all the power I poured out in the fight and the dying. I pull out an essence pod and drain down the thick, bitter liquid, and feel mana buzzing within me again. I really wish I'd had these in my last life. I must learn how to make them sometime.
This isn't working. I'm going to need another strategy. I pull out the map and peer over it, looking at the lay of the land and the position of the enemy forces.
"We're too exposed going in there," I say. "Those artilas will make quick work of us if we're not careful."
Chesh doesn't seem especially reassured by my words. "But I'm certain that you will be able to use your awesome Shaper powers to prevail, right?"
I snort softly. "Sorry to offend your Obeyer sensibilities, but Shapers can die just like anything else." Except this fake Shaper that comes back from the dead, at any rate.
Sirius comes over to look over the map as well. "I don't see any easy way in there. It would be nice if we had some air support, though. But we don't have access to anything that can readily fly at the moment."
"Hmm," I say. "Perhaps we don't need to. I suggest that we flank the enemy from here." I point to a hill on the map. "We get up on top of this hill over them, and rain down attacks of our own from there."
"That hill?" Chesh says, frowning at it. "But there's nothing but sheer cliffs from the side of it we can get to from here."
"You've got a mage and a Shaper with you now, though," Sirius says. "You do keep going on about these awesome powers of the Shapers, don't you?"
"Oh," Chesh says, sheepishly. "My apologies for doubting you, Shaper." He bows his head toward me.
"Let's get ready and move out," I say. "If we can avoid being spotted by the enemy scouts, we will be able to set up a position on top of the hill without drawing their attention. I've healed you all up and given you a full night of rest, so everyone should have no excuses about being ready."
"We don't have enough thorn batons for all of us," Chesh says.
I look them over, and pull out three more batons from my bag, and pass them over to the serviles. "There, now you're all properly equipped. Are we ready to go now?"
"Yes, Shaper," Chesh says reluctantly. He's clearly not very happy about having to go out and fight, but he's out of excuses and can't deny a Shaper, or at least someone he believe is a Shaper.
We head out toward the hill in question, quickly dispatching a couple thahd scouts along the way to prevent them from raising an alarm. When we read the hill, I see that Chesh is right about it being a sheer cliff on this side. Using purely conventional means, it would take some time, effort, and probably ropes to climb up this way, making the prospect a little less practical. But we have access to magic.
Sirius transfigures some sticks into a long ladder leading straight up to the top of the bluff. "Up you go," he says.
Rispy and I climb up first, followed by the serviles. Then Sirius levitates Sparky up before climbing up himself.
We move to the north end of the hill, where we can see the blockade before the Pentil gates. Beyond, the city of Pentil stretches out. It's much larger than Vakkiri, and perhaps was built in the island's primary administration facility. Near the edge of the hill, some rocks jut out, looking like they could provide adequate cover from any artilas that manage to spit at us.
"Take positions," I say quietly but clearly. "Be ready. Focus fire on the artilas first."
We arrange ourselves along the rocks, batons and magic at the ready. There's no indication that the rogues have spotted us. I arrange for each of the serviles to attack a different artila to start off with.
"Fire!" I command.
Thorns and fire rain down upon the rogue forces. Most of the artilas die rapidly in the first volley, not being particularly durable creations. One of them, however, manages to nail a servile with its acid spit.
"Finish them off!" I bark, rushing over to heal the wounded servile as quickly as I can.
He's badly burned, but my magic is able to negate the effects of the acid and heal his injuries. "Thank you, Shaper," says the servile, bowing to me. "Your humble servant is eternally grateful to you."
By the time I'm finished, the others have wiped out the remaining rogues. The thahds didn't stand a chance, since all they could do is punch things, and they couldn't find a way to the top of the hill fast enough to do anything to us.
"Shaper," Chesh says, approaching me. "You have saved us with your awesome powers."
"I've saved you with some vaguely useful powers and a fair bit of wit," I say. And dying twice in the process, but there's no need for him to know that.
"Still, we must return to Pentil now that we are able to," Chesh says. "You will be more than welcome among us loyal Obeyers."
"Go on," I say. "We're right behind you."
Chesh heads down the opposite side of the bluff and toward the entrance to the town of Pentil.
Once they're out of earshot, Sirius approaches me and asks, "So, how many times did you die today?"
"Twice," I reply.
"Ouch," Sirius says.
"Have I mentioned that I really hate acid?" I say.
"And I really hate the attitude of the Obeyers," Rispy says. "All that bowing and scraping. Have they no dignity?"
"At least you're another servile," I point out. "They won't bow and scrape to you."
"Look, I'll totally not blame you if you wind up getting pissed off and going on a rampage and killing them all," Rispy says.
"We'll try to avoid that happening just yet, though," Sirius says with a smirk. "We might still need them, after all."
"Yeah," Rispy says. "I mean, they are still serviles, even if they're misguided ones. I'm not exactly eager for anything bad to happen to them. Just... you know what I'm saying?"
"I know exactly what you mean, Rispy," I say, chuckling. "All life is precious. Even if it's really annoying life. But if something is actively threatening or hindering you, well... Sometimes these things must be done. I don't intend to raise a hand against the Obeyers right now, but it might definitely become necessary or prudent in the future."
"Right now, though, let's go and meet them," Sirius says. "And prank the Shaper-loving daylights out of them."