Chapter 72

Day 262/263:

“What the hell’s an Arcane Magi?” John wondered.

Duin’s unmissable mixture of excitement and trepidation was palpable.

“As I said, tha’s tween you’n th’ other one.” Dulgan insisted.

“Then why doesn’t he want me to let you leave?” John wondered.

Dulgan blinked in surprise. “He doesn’o’? I dunno. Le’s ask.”

Repeat my words, so the Magi can hear them as well. Duin instructed.

“Before the Arrival, there was a powerful, and secretive organization of Dwarves called the Dark Watch.” John dutifully parroted. “It was their purpose to enforce strict religious codes against allowing any non-Dwarf to know the secrets of our Making. Outsiders who found out, no matter if it was by accident, or an intentional instruction, were tracked down and killed. No mercy; no appeal to a higher authority. Not even the College Patriarch himself could gainsay them.”

“An’ you think the Wraithguard Clan be descended from this ‘Dark Watch’?” Dulgan supposed.

“He says their abilities sound like what he remembers.” John confirmed. “And ‘Shademaster’ was the name of their leader.”

“Tha’ sounds like a good connection ta me.” Dulgan agreed. “An’ he thinks they’ll do what, if’n they know ‘bout me?”

“Kill you, or capture you, or worse.” John told him. “Apparently after Bruvohilda failed, the College put out a new restriction. Nobody was allowed to even try whatever-it-was, on pain of uh, censure.”

Dulgan nodded. “Di’ he tell ya she was the third ta try? All o’ ‘em like’n me, special Masters. An’ none were th’ same, after. Throdratin th’ Charger killed himself, an’ Brodrerra th’ Boneless never Made anything ever again. Three o’ th’ best Makers in Dwarf history, an’ all ended badly.”

“So, you’ll stay away then?” John pressed.

Dulgan laughed. “Course no’! I’ll jus’ make’n an ‘greement tha’ prevents ‘em from doin’ anythin’ ta me.”

John sighed. “Dulgan! At least promise me you’ll be careful!”

Dulgan tapped his eye. “I’m thinkin’ I know more’n Duin ‘bout ‘em. Can he See their nature?”

“He grudgingly says ‘no’.” John reported after a bit. “But cautions you against being overconfident about knowing what they can do.”

“Wha’ does he know?” Dulgan invited.

“There were four types that he knew about, and only because they helped him in the war.” John said. “Searchers, Watchers, Slayers and Augurs; those’re who he knows about. Augurs were the only ones he never met, but the others he interacted with would mention them occasionally. They apparently had an ability to discover secret information from far away; but how, he has no idea. Duin advises you not to trust that they can’t spy on you without anybody being nearby.”

Dulgan stroked his scruffy chin. “Aye. Tis somethin’ ta think on. Go ahead.”

“The others had abilities to avoid being seen, heard, or even noticed. No matter if they were in a crowd, or you were alone.” John continued. “He picked up hints that the members underwent some kind of ritual which altered or changed them in some fundamental way.”

Dulgan nodded. “They are. Th’ Nightwalkers, they ‘ave skin made o’ shadows. Tis an unsettling thing, ta me Sight.”

“Powerful?” John affirmed.

“Aye. An’ th’ Watcher had skin like me own armor, bu’ e’en quicker ta change, an’ more adaptive ta what’s ‘round. He dinnae use it much las’ night, bu’ I could See its potential in ‘im.”

“He says that the Slayers were the most frightening. That no one ever saw them, him included.” John advised. “Invisibility, perhaps?”

Dulgan winked again. “No. Good guess tho’! Tis a rune-ward embedded inta their skin. Tells yer mind ta forget ‘bout ‘em immediately. I’ll hafta ‘zamin’t when I get a chance.”

“You saw one?” John asked. “Where?”

Dulgan’s look turned to pity. “Innae tower. Mokul’s one. So’s th’ other three. Th’ ones sittin’ ‘round th’ table on th’ second floor. Please tell me ya saw ‘em?”

John was taken aback. “I did, but had no difficulty seeing all four of them. They didn’t look like anything special to me.”

A knock on the door startled them both.

“John? Dulgan? You in there?” Veronyka called.

“Ask her. Bet she’s no’ wiser.” Dulgan instructed, motioning for John to let her in.

“Am I interrupting something?” Veronyka asked cautiously, when she saw they were alone.

“You are, but we want you to join us.” John assured her.

“Okay.” She came in, knocking the stool over.

“What’s up?” She asked, after they closed the door and reset the ‘alarm’.

John kept his voice casual. “So, how many people did you see inside the tower last night?”

She shot him a questioning look back. “How many? Why? What do you think I missed?”

“Just answer, and I’ll tell you. Please. Seriously.” John insisted.

She tilted her head in acceptance. “All right. Counting that Shademaster guy? Two. But I’m guessing there were more?”

“That second floor, with the small table and chairs. Do you remember it?” John directed.

“Sure. Looked like a sort of waiting room or whatever for the big boss upstairs.” She opined.

“There were three other Dwarves sitting at that table.” John told her. “You didn’t see any of them?”

Veronyka’s jaw dropped. “Three? No! Really? No! Not at all! Really?”

John looked back to Dulgan. “I guess you’re right. I didn’t realize nobody else could see them. Why could we see Mokul then? Let me guess, his was ‘turned off’ too?”

Dulgan nodded. “Aye. He did it, righ’ when he opened th’ door. If’n it’d’n been already off, e’en I might’ve missed it.”

“Still, even if you can see them, are they people you want to mess with? Truly?” John argued. “You can’t be thinking of going back!”

“Will somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?” Veronyka demanded.

Dulgan motioned for John to answer. So, he gave her a quick update on Dulgan’s new ‘status,’ why it was important, their combined knowledge of the Wraithguard, and its lineage connected to the Dark Watch. He ended by informing her of Duin’s warning to avoid that Clan.

But she had a different take on what it all meant.

“Dulgan, just how significant is this, for Dwarves?” She asked, after mulling it over.

Dulgan nodded once, solemnly. “Very. I am ta a Maker, as’n’a Maker is ta a youn’ child carving crude toys outta sticks.”

Veronyka covered her eyes, rubbing her temples. “Oh, man. That’s what I figured. Last night you said knowledge of ... a certain magic that we saw would be ‘sacrilegious,’ in the Shademaster’s view. Why is that?”

“Th’ secrets o’ how Makers Make tis one o’ ‘ur most deeply held secrets.” Dulgan informed her quietly. “Whole Clan’s’ve been kilt o’er not keepin’ it. Tis at th’ very core o’ what we do.”

“And the best ‘Makers’ in your history all attempted to become what you now are, only to fail? That’s what you’re saying? You’ve done what nobody else has, ever? First time?” She confirmed.

“Aye.” Dulgan winked again. “Tho’ ta be correct, twas th’ drag’n who did it. No’ m’self.”

“Jesus Christ.” She breathed. “My god.”

“Care to fill us in?” John pried, when she didn’t elaborate any further.

Her finger came up to indicate the Dwimar.

“Him. He’s their Jesus Christ. A culmination of centuries of deeply-held beliefs, all manifesting into a single person. Remember how that story ends? Tell me you’re not...”

“Well, shit.” John sighed.

They tried explaining to Dulgan that messianic figures were very nearly always the center of controversy and violence, even if they themselves never espoused destructive or harmful ideals.

“Dwarves be differn’.” Dulgan kept insisting, throughout.

John finally threw up his hands in frustration, after multiple rounds with the stubborn Dwimar. “Then please take somebody else with you! At least!”

“I will. Dadem’s brother, Nolmak’s goin’ wi’ me.” Dulgan informed them. “He’s nearly’s good a haggler ‘s my sire.”

“Well, before you go,” Veronyka tried to distract him, “can you help me for a minute?”

“With wha’?” Dulgan inquired.

Veronyka motioned John with her fingers. “Give me your helmet.”

His eyes bugged wide. “Oh, good call! Helmet on. Here.”

She accepted it and moved to a nearby workbench. In moments, she had the cushioned liner extracted, exposing the inner surface. To John’s Eye, the under-surface resembled a circuit board, like you’d find inside any piece of modern-day electronics. Though only a quarter of the total area contained inscribed channels, this web of conduits was interwoven with intricately-small, dragon-wrought runes, all of which hummed with a faint magical ‘vibration.’

“I don’t want to break it.” Veronyka told Dulgan. “But John said that the dragon who gave this to him suggested he let me see it. I can think of a few ways to improve it, with my training, but I need to shut it down first.” She pointed. “This right here looks like where a power source should be, but it’s a complicated symbol instead of what I’d know as a storage device.”

“Aye.” Dulgan mused. “Tha’s ‘cause like all reward items, it draws power from the drag’n’s very nature. I dinnae know how ‘zactly, bu’ every one I’ve Looked at does th’ same thing. More’r less.”

“Okay.” She drew out the word into a question. “So, how do I turn it off for a few minutes?”

Dulgan began rummaging around the tools and items strewn about the bench. “This’ll work. And ... we’ll need this. An’ maybe this.”

He turned back and put a heavy lead, or pewter ‘cap’ over the power rune. Then clamped it into place and carefully dabbed a fine line of paste around the circumference. The tingle of energy stopped when he was done.

“Do you know wha’ all this does?” Dulgan asked eventually, tracing some of the paths without touching them.

“Some of it, yes.” Veronyka admitted, pointing but not touching each part as she explained. “This is what stores the various hats it can turn into. John told me about that. And this part here is what makes the screen over his eyes display the helmet’s, uh, ‘status’. We call that a ‘HUD’. And see this junction? That’s how information from the storage gets to the HUD. I’m confident in that much, at least!”

The Dwimar pointed at some lines and the largest single symbol in the whole mess, right where the crown of John’s head would be. “An’ this?”

Veronyka shook her head. “I’m not sure. It seems like the way the thing interfaces with John’s mind, but I can’t be sure. What do you think?”

Dulgan stroked his chin. “Tis ‘zactly wha’tis. You’re correct! Bu’ tis incomplete.”

“Incomplete?” Veronyka blinked. “How so?”

Dulgan wiggled his head side to side. “Ah, maybe no’ incomplete, bu’ um ... inactive.”

“Inactive?” She was shocked. “How could that be? It’s a full reward, right John?”

Dulgan held out a hand to John, like a surgeon in an operation. “Axe.”

Intrigued, John plopped the Tooth’s haft on Dulgan’s palm.

“Axe.” He joked, repeating like a nurse in poorly-done drama.

Dulgan gave him a sideways glance, then focused on Veronyka.

“This weap’n is’n a reward from doin’ a Challenge.” Dulgan pulled out one of his own enchanted daggers. “An’ this’n tis bound ta me own self by blood, sweat ‘n’ tears. Ta mos’, tis no’ any different from each other. Ta my Eyes tho’, tis no’ e’en close!”

“Wait a minute,” John jumped in, “how can they be different? They do the same exact thing!”

Dulgan shook his head slowly, emphatically. “No. They do not. Ta yer eyes, they do. Bu’ one binds ta yer own life force. Th’ other tis linked through the Challenge Geas. Tho’ its ne’er been heard o’, by its nature, if’n th’ Geas were e’er ta be brok’n, yer connection woul’ break also.” Dulgan paused and snorted. “Noo ya got me havin’ a philosophical conversation wi’ ya!”

Veronyka and John exchanged glances.

“So ... are you saying we should life-bind the rewards?” She ventured. “Even if we already got them from the dragons?”

Dulgan pointed at the helmet’s largest icon. “This’n ‘ere, yes. I do. Put th’ blood, sweat ‘n’ tears righ’ on th’ rune.” He held up the Tooth and pointed at a faintly similar glyph on the haft. “An’ if’n ya decide ta do yer other rewards, use this’n ‘ere.”

“I’m going to need to grab my coat.” John remarked, thinking rapidly. “It’s still in the room.”

“Yeah, me too.” Veronyka agreed, still in shock.

“Whate’er else ya do, don’ change th’ existin’ runes.” Dulgan warned. “If’n ya do, when ya remove th’ cover, it may jus’ destroy th’ helm. Changin’ drag’n’s work tis risky business.”

“Well, could you stay, and make sure I’ve done it right?” Veronyka asked sweetly after a moment.

She got a wry grin in response. “Nay, I cannae stay. Tis a goo’ effort; I know wha’ you be doin’ me lady. Bu’ I mus’ go. If’n ya wait ‘til I return tho’, I can ‘zamin’ it b’fore removin’ th’ cover.”

“Damn.” She sighed in defeat. “But I think we’ll both take you up on it.”

“It’s getting late.” John reminded his friend. “But even if we fall asleep, come wake us up when you get back. All right?”

“Aye. Tha’ I’c’n do.” Dulgan allowed.

“Be careful, please.” John clasped hands with him.

“Like a youn’ Dwarf wi’ his firs’ ‘chantment.” Dulgan quipped, before leaving them.

“I hope this doesn’t start a religious war.” John remarked in English.

Veronyka pressed her lips together. “For sure.”

Between a late supper, and Veronyka’s independent work on his helmet, it was several hours before she was ready for them both to try binding their reward items using the local world enchantment.

Veronyka held up John’s helmet. “I can’t duplicate the dragon work. No point trying. But I’ve added a similar targeting function to my own.”

She pointed at where her own helmet lay partly disassembled.

“I copied what Longinus did, plus added a similar zooming and alternate ‘bandwidth’ viewer.”

“Alternate bandwidth?” John mulled over. “Like, heat or night-vision?”

Veronyka smiled. “Exactly like. Sh. Don’t tell anybody!”

John chuckled. “Don’t worry, I won’t!”

“But!” Veronyka held up a finger. “I don’t have an appropriate lens. For now, it’ll let you perceive using alternate ... methods from far away, but it’s your ‘magic eye’ doing the work. For now.”

John accepted her constraints. “Good call, in case it ever changes.”

“Or he takes it back.” Veronyka hedged. “Knowing what I do about him, I doubt it, but you can’t depend on him. That I know for a fact!”

“No problem.” John assured her. “Is that everything I should know?”

“For now.” She admitted. “When we get a proper tech-bench I’ll be able to easily add a few more things. For now, that’s the best I can do.”

“Well,” he picked up the protective shell, “let’s see what life-binding these will do!”

“Remember!” She pointed at the additions Dulgan had made. “Leave these alone! I’d rather wait until Dulgan can check them out than run the risk of screwing your helmet up.”

John gave her props for the thought. “Good point! A second set of eyes never goes amiss.”

They looked at each other: John with his reward helmet, gambeson, and boots, Valkyrie gauntlets, bearing embedded shield, and the Tooth. Veronyka with her spring-loaded arm-spike, crossbow (including her six enchanted bolts), armor (which included her body-suit and helmet, too), embedded shield, and her Lance. Six items for each of them. John found five spots matching Dulgan’s symbol to focus his binding on the items, while Veronyka only found three. Her armor and Lance bore no recognizable runes. She’d have to take her chances with them.