Chapter 202: Reception

Chapter 202: Reception

The crunch of splintering wood filled the air as the iron rowboat jerked, grinding against one of the docks that jutted into the Barstone harbor. Rain, standing at the bow and balancing the craft with his legs, stared at the broken remains of his oar. “Oops.”

“Brace!” Carten yelled.

Tossing aside the ruined oar, Rain did just that, gripping the gunwale as they slammed into the dock with another crunch. Their keel began to pivot away, and he hurriedly released his grip to grasp the dock instead. Wood creaked as he did his awakened best to stop them from smashing into the dilapidated fishing boat that was the only other occupant of their chosen pier.

“This is why I told you to slow down,” Jamus observed.

“We had more momentum than I thought, okay?” Rain said, twisting powerfully to bring the keel back around. Atomically pure iron was up there as one of the worst choices for an ocean-going vessel, but it was what they had. It just needed to last a few days. Steel or aluminum would have been far better, but the former was harder for the exhausted Tallheart to shape, and the latter was still a secret. “Someone tie us up, please.”

Rain looked over his shoulder, seeing that Jamus was already ahead of him. The orange-robed Mage floated lightly through the air in casual disregard of gravity, landing silently as one of Carten’s shields crashed down beside him on the dock with considerably more noise. Jamus knelt, finding a rope and tossing the end to Carten, who missed it, busy lobbing his second shield. He grabbed it up quickly, though, then hauled on it with such enthusiasm that he almost tugged Jamus off his feet.

There was another crunch as the boat slammed hard into the dock.

That’s it. I want off this ride.

Eying the dock, he jumped.

“Oi!” Carten yelled, losing his grip on the rope and windmilling his arms as the boat rolled beneath him.

“Sorry,” Rain said, landing lightly—relatively—beside Jamus. The wooden pier was a floating affair, anchored in place by wooden piles sunk into the sea floor on either side. It juddered against its restraints as his armored boots made contact. Carten, meanwhile, had managed not to fall in. He was, however, now drifting away. As Rain turned to watch, the big man tore an oar from its oarlock and jabbed the blade urgently at Jamus.Ñøv€lRapture marked the initial hosting of this chapter on Ñôv€lß¡n.

“Grab on!”

“And let you pull me in after you?” Jamus said, looking at the oar dispassionately. “I think not.”

“Stop screwing around,” Rain said, grabbing the blade of the wooden paddle with one hand and gently tugging to bring Carten back toward them. “How did I get stuck with you two, anyway?”

“Don’t blame me for Carten’s antics,” Jamus said. “And stuck with us?” He pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m hurt. As if we’d let you go alone.”

“Yeah!” Carten agreed heartily, scratching at his beard. “An’ yer the one who voted for democracy, so no complaints!”

Rain sighed. “You know I didn’t mean it like that, and you also know democracy had very little to do with who got to come.” He closed his mouth before he could say anything he shouldn’t. About anyone he shouldn’t, even if not by name.

Ameliah could have just Airwalked us over here, but no. Stupid Velika.

With a grimace, Rain left Jamus and Carten to finish tying up the boat and turned to survey the city. The Stonewash was too broad to be practically bridged without blocking shipping, so the city had been built entirely on the north bank. Mlem had passed through here years and years ago, and true to what he’d said, Barstone was massive compared to Vestvall and Fel Sadanis. Even Three Cliffs, with its impressive vertical construction, couldn’t compare to the bustling sprawl of the DKE city. The waterfront was busy, despite them having rowed past most of the fishing fleet. Several people who’d been occupied processing fish and mending nets had stopped their work to stare. Behind the watchers was a disorderly sprawl of wooden buildings—shacks, really—mixed with storage sheds far too small to be called warehouses. The houses grew steadily nicer and taller until they reached the wall that hid the inner city from view.

Looking past Carten and Jamus, currently arguing about the proper way to tie a knot, Rain searched for Temerity, spotting it on the horizon without even needing to lean on his Perception accolade. It wasn’t exactly easy to miss. With Bakal’s powerful Water Manipulation and some judicious application of Refrigerate, the highly-conspicuous metal ship had become an only-slightly-less-conspicuous iceberg. With the ship’s two mysterious gemstones blocking Divination magic, the disguise even had a chance of holding up to scrutiny—at least of the casual variety.

It sucks that the ice adds so much drag. Once Bakal’s over his migraine, we should try streamlining it into a proper shell. Make it into a more long-term solution.

Rain sighed, turning again to stare at the colossal, golden vessel anchored at the mouth of the river.

If we get to long-term.

Even from this distance, he could tell the Goldship was at least as big as Temerity. It towered over the merchant vessels around it, its top deck rising above even the masts of all but the largest of them. Where Temerity was sharp and angular, the Bank vessel was all in-swept curves and graceful lines, its golden hull polished to a mirror finish. It was like something modern-era elves might have built, not that anyone in this world besides Rain and his book club would have appreciated the comparison.

He shifted his attention further. Intimidating and eye-catching as it was, the Goldship wasn’t the only reason they’d chosen to dock way up here. Near the massive lighthouse that marked the northern tip of the mountains, several DKE vessels floated. The largest was a frigate, almost as large as the Goldship, its three main sails each emblazoned with the crescent-moon emblem of Citizen Barstone. The other ships were smaller, brigs and cutters—‘frigate,’ ‘brig,’ and ‘cutter’ simply being words Rain had chosen. Translated directly from common, it would have been ‘three-mast-ship,’ ‘two-mast-ship,’ and ‘one-mast-ship,’ respectively.

Rain shook his head slowly at the blandness of the language, then looked back toward their own vessel. He’d left a Detection anchor on board, and their hardness seemed to help them survive being around metal, provided that they weren’t in direct contact with it. Through the anchor, he was keeping constant track of the happenings aboard, and thus knew Velika hadn’t yet snapped and started killing people. Likewise, he knew that no one had yet sailed out to ask the iceberg calf what it was doing so far from home without its mommy.

Is nobody curious? Like, at all? Did they really not see us coming around the mountains from that lighthouse of theirs?

“There,” Carten said, clapping his hands. “How’s that fer a knot?”

Rain shook himself, then returned his attention to his companions, seeing Carten standing in the boat proudly over what was less a knot and more a...snarl with attitude.

“Nice work, Carten,” Jamus said, rubbing at his chin as he bent down to inspect it closer. “The sea birds will be right at home.”

“Like ta see you do better,” Carten muttered, extending a hand to Rain and beckoning with his fingers. “Help me up.”

“None of us have any business being on the water,” Rain said, grabbing Carten’s forearm and hauling him up. “We should all have our boating licenses revoked.”

“I think I did just fine, thank you,” Jamus said, straightening his hat.

“Fine job sittin’,” Carten countered as he bent to retrieve his shields. “Try rowin’ next time, noodle-arms.”

Tuning out the friendly bickering, Rain glanced at the holotank at the top right of his interface. There were two spheres there instead of one, split to avoid the nausea that came with Detection now having multiple points of origin. From the number of dots on the local sphere, easily countable with a thought, the crowd around the end of the dock was growing. The signals were moving a bit jerkily thanks to his limited refresh rate at the moment, but that was fine for his purposes. He had a complicated series of macros running, filling a single slot with variously-configured pulses of Detection, along with all of his Wards, leaving the other slot free for emergencies. Fortunately, the DKE was lax compared to the Watch when it came to skill use in their cities, affording him the freedom to humor his paranoia. If they were attacked, he’d be ready.

“Come on,” he said, sparing one last glance at the Goldship before settling his cloak around his shoulders and starting toward the shore. The fact that people didn’t immediately run at his motion was a good sign, but he couldn’t help but feel his heart twist seeing the fear and wariness in their eyes. The flipside of his freedom to use spells in the city was the unhappy thought of just how few protections the unawakened here had.

Clenching his jaw, Rain stopped that line of thought before he got himself in even more of a mood, pushing his will instead toward a new function he’d written.

tx.sh

target: anchor_rad_t01_0000

Rain looked up from his musing, halting as well to follow Jamus’s gaze. The road they were on had been growing busier with traffic for a while, but now they seemed to have crossed an invisible line, passing into the harbor proper. Ahead of them on the left, right at the harbor’s mouth, was a particularly large warehouse, painted white and gold. From it, a vehicle of some sort had emerged. It was a fancy horse-carriage-type thing, painted in the same ostentatious colors as the warehouse and with a team of majestic horses to match. The carriage would have been striking enough on its own, but there was also the minor detail that it was floating.

As Rain watched, the driver sitting on the bench at the front snapped the reins. The horses began to walk, towing the fancy hovering vehicle behind them.

“Well,” Carten said after a long moment. “That’s a new one.”

“Mmm,” Rain said. “Hovercart.”

“Is that the real name for it, or did you just make that up?” Jamus asked.

“It’s the real name,” Rain replied, starting to walk again. “Or a name, at least. Ameliah mentioned them when I was telling her about...” he stopped himself, having been about to use the English word cars. There was a good chance someone was listening to them right now, so he coughed to cover his lapse as he continued. “Anyway, she says you see them in big cities, sometimes. They’re supposed to chew through Arcane Crysts like you wouldn’t believe. Whoever’s in there has more money than they know what to do with.”

“Banker, maybe?” Jamus asked. “Given where the Goldship is anchored, that warehouse is probably theirs.”

Rain shrugged, looking both ways before stepping out onto the road paralleling the river and turning west. The traffic had reached the point that they’d need to watch out or be run over, though perhaps not. As he led them along the wide street, a pocket seemed to form around them all on its own. Feeling bad, Rain nudged them further over to the side to avoid a stout-armed fellow hauling a cart of heavy-looking bricks.

“Lot’s of folks ‘ere,” Carten said, his head wobbling around as if it was on a swivel. “Lots an’ lots.”

“You are not wrong, Carten,” Jamus agreed, speaking slowly. “You are not wrong. It’s like a festival day, except with more...stench.”

Rain smiled. Oh, what I’d give to show these two what real foot traffic looks like. Plop them down in Tokyo or New York at rush hour or something. It would break them. Though... I probably shouldn’t talk shit until I’ve seen the City of Lights or Ter’Karmark.

He blinked, his musing interrupted by a blue-lacquered cart trundling after its owner all on its own.

“Journey Cart,” Jamus said, pointing at the object in question.

Rain, starting to feel a bit uneasy, reached over and gently pushed Jamus’s arm down. “Don’t point. It makes you look like a yokel.”

“How many people live here, do you think?” Jamus asked, unbothered. “Do you think they’ve ever counted?”

Rain just shook his head, then increased his pace. He’d never particularly liked crowds, and this one... There seemed to be a weight to the sea of people around him. Either all of the unawakened were adding together and triggering his soul perception somehow, or there was someone strong around, watching from a distance.

Or it’s all in my head.

He increased his pace further, making the others struggle to keep up as the street grew busier still. Warehouses became less common, replaced by inns, taverns, shops, and endless lines of merchants selling diverse goods out of carts. Still towing his increasingly bug-eyed friends behind him, Rain plowed on through the press, no longer quite so upset about people stepping quickly to get out of their way. The gate, when they found it, was less busy than the market it adjoined, but there were still a good number of people lined up waiting to get in.

Rain stopped, breathing evenly to calm himself as he counted the guards, or constables as Jer had called them. There were twelve of them, distinguishable by their matching leather caps and uniforms. Those were quilted jacket affairs, though not quite as bulky as proper gambesons, dyed DKE green and with Citizen Barstone’s crescent moon embroidered on the backs.

“What now, Rain?” Jamus asked in a low voice.

“I guess we get in line,” Rain said softly. “Remember, leave the talking to me.”

“So you’ve told us,” Jamus said. “We aren’t going to give anything away. Stop worrying so much.”

“Might as well tell the sun ta’ stop shinin’,” Carten said loudly, laughing while a donkey cart rumbled to a stop behind them. At his outburst, the donkey brayed out a tired ‘haaw.’

“Shh,” Rain hissed—at Carten, not the donkey—seeing one of the constables breaking from the gate and jogging toward them.

“You, there!”

“Ah, shit,” Carten muttered.

“Yes, shit,” Rain agreed. “Looks like they were on the lookout for us, after all.”

Stepping out of line, he moved to meet the oncoming constable, raising one finger as he prepared to recite his rehearsed statement. The shorter man, though, didn’t stop. He marched right up to Rain, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him roughly forward. Rain was so shocked that he actually allowed himself to be moved, more focused on stopping himself from frying the constable out of his boots. Jamus reacted strongly too, though the constable either didn’t notice the Mage’s raised hands or simply didn’t care.

“Stop blocking the line!” the man shouted in Rain’s face, proving it to be the second as he stepped past him to likewise shove Jamus toward the gate. “Adventurers don’t need their goods checked, you idiots.”

“I, uh—” Rain said, turning, still caught on the wrong foot. He found his eyes drawn involuntarily to the man’s mustache, which reminded him of nothing more than an inverted Reese’s peanut butter cup. “Sorry? Don’t you want to verify my Guild number, or—”

“Move, you armor-plated pillar!” the constable said, giving him another hard shove, and when Rain didn’t so much as budge this time, he spun away in frustration. “Fine, stand there all day if you want, so long as you don’t block the way.” He pointed sharply. “You there, with the donkey, what’s in the cart?”

Stunned and with his single finger still raised, Rain stared, looking from Jamus, to Carten, then back to the constable, who was busy accepting a hurriedly-offered sheaf of papers from the donkey cart’s owner. Retracting his finger at last, Rain let his hand fall, then took a hesitant step toward the gate, then began walking with more certainty as another of the constables—a stout woman with red hair—waved him on.

As he neared, she gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry about our lieutenant. He’s had a busy day. Week, really.”

“He’s gonna get himself killed,” one of the other constables said, crossing his arms.

“So?” said a third. “I could do with an afternoon off.”

“Quiet,” snapped the female constable, shaking her head at the speaker, then fixing Rain with a slightly forced smile. “Welcome to Barstone, travelers.” She swept her arm toward the tunnel through the wall invitingly. “Please have a peaceful stay.”

And then, before Rain had wholly come to terms with what had just happened, they were through. He found himself in a wide-open square, paved with neatly-squared stone and with a wide fountain in the center, featuring some god or other spewing shimmering water from his hands. The wooden buildings surrounding the square were white-washed and spotless, their painted shutters and awnings lending them an almost modern air. One of them was clearly a restaurant, the scent of spiced meat tickling Rain’s nostrils with diners sitting at tables outside.

Huh.

“Soooo,” Carten said, drawing the word out and letting the bottoms of his shields clang to cleanly-swept stones. “I think tha’ went pretty well. Say, anyone else hungry? No? Just me?”