Eli POV
Sitting at the large, circular wooden table in the meeting room, I went over a few papers in my hands as the mana lamps dotted along the stone walls bathed all the pages and my smiling metal mask in a golden glow along. Scrawled on the sheets of paper were outlines and measurements for an outpost in the snail dominated lands. After a few minutes of looking over the designs, I settled on three that had the most stable base. Seeing as this was more Salamede's project than mine, it would fall to her to make the final decisions.
Stretching, I folded the three ordained pages and went back into my room. It took only a moment, as the clothes I selected were woven plant fibers of white for the top and long woven leaves for pants. Walking back to the meeting room, I took a right and walked into the workshop. The place was busier than ever, with five long central tables being totally taken up. Even the expansion on the right was full, with several of the standard tables in the middle and shelves of wooden blocks and papers around the workers. Walking among them was the burly form of Beaton. His blue coat slung on the table he with a few of his former crew around him. In front of them were various enchantments and sheets of paper, each holding their own designs for a vessel travelling the seas.
Pushing further ahead, I came into the hangar. After waiting for the boys to get comfortably settled in for two days, I decided to come back and start setting up the next phase of our operations near the capital. Looking at the sharp hull of the Intrepid on the left and the ladders on the sides with workers moving up stores of food and blocks of enchanted wood, I took in the sounds of feet shuffling over the smooth stone floor, clanging of metal, and shouting that slightly reverberated on the high ceiling above. Along that roof with a crease in the middle where it opened, were mana lamps spaced out in intervals to shine golden rays on the workers below and the objects of their labor.
Off to the right was the Intrepid's twin. Without a name and only half a hull to its sides, it wasn't much to look at, but it was coming along nicely. Having the pain and agony from the first ship made here fresh in their minds, the Kelton's helped guide the Orc and human workers away from a lot of their previous mistakes. Combined with Durka overseeing things, I was confident that we would have a new ship in a week or two. Which was good, because with one needed to ferry or spy in the south and one for watching the skies here, our ability to respond to any other situations was gone until the mass of wood was made proper. Moving forward, I came into a congestion between the two ships as their operations brushed up against each other. Something that sent one member almost colliding with me.
"My lord!" One of the Kelton's we had recently picked up yelped to my right. The young lad with curling brown horns that matched his fur did a light bow as he scrambled out of the way, almost dropping his plank of wood as his did so. The chuckle that came out of my mouth made him bite his lip.
"As you were." I idly offered as I moved forward.
The rest made some space for me, though it seemed that most did it out of respect rather than fear. Kelton clan heads and their wives were apparently quite harsh in handing out punishments for the slightest offense and the tight spaces meant banishment was the preferred method of correction. Most Kelton's recently taken from the wastes were still not totally adjusted to the more relaxed discipline here but like most things, culture shock was best remedied with time.
Finally getting to my ship, I waited for a gap in the workers on the ladder before shimmying up to the deck myself. It was a flat thing, with only the black tube of iron sticking out of the middle to blow heat into the canopy of cloth suspended on a steel frame above, a steering wheel behind it sticking out, and the wooden half-shield turrets providing any obstructions on the deck. The slight blocking of the pilot's vision had been unnoticeable in most situations and adding more weight on the back end for a raised platform or half level wasn't an issue I had the time to fix for now. Taking the papers out of my pants and testing the strength of the pants leaves as I did so, I looked over the designs again.
The first was a large shell, like a snails', on a long stone base. The second was a pyramid structure with a wooden top. As the last, the final design was the most complicated paired with the greatest promise in my eyes. It would be a wide dome with six turrets spaced around its edge. Combined with a wall a fair distance from it with buildings along the inner defense, it seemed to be the best fit for our requirements.
While I was perusing the three papers, I heard footsteps approaching me among the other noise. Coming from my right, I saw Gula walking to me with a slight wave in her bowl cut of black hair. Her vertical cut along her left eye and horizontal cut along her nose were the same as ever, but as she casually scratched her side through her own white shirt and brown pants, she seemed far more relaxed than usual. Most importantly, she had a slight wobble in her step that forced a small smile on my face beneath the mask and no doubt showed up in my eyes.
Her green lips puckered as she came up to me. My impudence went unpunished, however, as she hugged me. Putting my hands on her hips, I shifted her lower half to fully press against me. The Orc responded by lightly moaning like a cat as her hands gripped my shoulders. A strength that was out of proportion to her frame backed up her grip, but I countered with dexterity by lowering my mask and stealing her lips.
As a spicy, vinegar flavor with smoky undercurrents assaulted my tongue, I nearly sighed in relief. Drawn from my observations and discussions, I found a lot of women were very particular about space and being touched even when married, especially when in view of other women in public. Gula had been one such specimen of the female gender, but it seems she was finally letting those barriers down and allowing me a bit more affection outside of the bedroom. Pulling my lips away, I put my smiling metal mask back up.
"I was thinking I need to get in as much as I can before going to the local capital." I declared.
She bit her green lower lip at that, looking down at my groin with trepidation.
"Salamede is going to have something to say about that." She warned with a raised eyebrow and slight frown, making it clear she wasn't thrilled at the prospect either.
I knew the young were quite attached to their bodies and willingly removing parts from it was considered taboo or the realm of the unstable. But once you've gone through the process of getting old and restarting in a teen vessel a few hundred times, the flesh you use to get about starts being another tool. And tools are only as useful as the function they provided.
"I'm doing all of…this," I exclaimed with a wide sweep of my arms to everything around me "Because no child of mine will ever know a lack of fatherly love. It kind of defeats the point of it all if I go and stud out as a plant mage."
Gula looked me in the eye with a continued bite of her lip before she shrugged.
"I'm sure Salamede will be very understanding." Was all she said as she took in the work going on around us.
It took a few more minutes before the sacks of food, mana crystals, and steel were loaded up. As the younger lad who served as Durka's apprentice took the steering wheel and heat blew into the balloon frame above, the workers below started waving goodbye as the rays of faint sun above broke through the creaking ceiling. The typical chocking salt in the air gave way to a semi-fresh morning breeze as the ship took into the sky. Its mist enchantments engaged and turned the world into a cloud all around us even as the momentum on our bodies gave us a general notion of movement.
The trip was several hours and since all the work I wanted to do would have unbalanced the ship, I spent my time cuddling with my wife by the railing. She may have fussed in times past at such open affection, but from her pushing her against me and leaning into the occasional kiss, I could tell she needed the comfort herself. Normally, I'd have been ecstatic but there was a bit of worry in her eyes.
"What's the problem?" I asked as I had her pinned against the guard rail with all the workers below deck. She looked down for a moment before turning to me with a conflicted expression.
"Your vision for my people is a great one. But I can't help but wonder if we're doing the right thing. What with them already having willing men."
That was an odd bit of psychology. The peasant men hadn't really talked about their lives pre-Orc laying, and I had been far too busy to get into the particulars of such lives. Still, I knew enough about their current situation to assuage her worries.
"All well and good. Unless you like seeing the sun or breathing fresh air. Or mind living in constant fear that you and your daughters' throats will be slit because the husband's a spy or the local governor finds your hiding hole. Aside from all that, I suppose it's paradise."
The Orc nodded, putting a hand to her forehead.
"I understand. It's just… you don't know, Eli. Seeing little green girls running up to a human yelling 'papa' and getting a hug from the man instead of a blade in the throat… I can't help but worry that us being here might destroy all of that. If you're discovered, they'll kill every Orc in this region cost be dammned. It may even go beyond that. From what a lot of the women say, the governments have a flare up of trying to purge the Orc's from their lands every few years or decade but give up because it quickly becomes a lost cause. Having you among us might be the impetus they need to see the job through."
Her free hand was gripping the railing now. Leaning forward, I pulled her into my embrace. When I had the green woman snuggly up against my chest and thighs, I finally gave my opinion.
"Having all the answers isn't my area of expertise, especially when it comes to a messy subject like people. But that last bit, to me, only reaffirms the need to bring science here. Living by the dictates of some bureaucrat who may not have the political resources to see you as dead as they would like is no way to live. We may be putting them at greater risk for now, but things change Gula and not always for the better. In a few hundred or thousand years, they'll almost certainly find that impetus in one form or another. And they may be more cooperative with their neighbors when they make that decision."
She looked at me, disbelief, fear, and doubt swirled in those golden pools before she bit her lip and nodded with a wobble in her sharp chin. After another second of contemplation, Gula put her head against my shoulder.
"A thousand years of joy doesn't seem bad."
I may have been worried about her resolve if not for the joking tone in her voice. We took in each other's company, sitting on the deck and rubbing each other's various parts for a while, a minute or hour longer, I couldn't tell.
"We've arrived." The pilot announced, taking us out of our mutual bliss.
Getting off the floor, we moved towards one of the ladders near the back when a soft crunch surrounded the ship. With a satisfied nod, the pilot pulled a lever and the ball of mist that made up the world lingered for a moment before quickly disappearing in the faint sunlight peeking out of the clouds above. The world beyond the deck was now mostly fields of rocks with snails moving about on the right side.
Far removed from their milder brothers, the shells on their backs had sharp edges around the sides or bloomed like a coral reef with a dazzling display of teals, yellows, reds, and pinks. Sporting sizes from anywhere to a dog to a horse, their need for food in the morning made them very aggressive with using spells against whatever or whoever would fit in their mouths, including younger members of their own species. Even with the afternoon feeding frenzy gone, it was easy to see why the Keltons and humans had left this place to its natural custodians.
Aside from one attempt on the left.
A wide tower of smooth stone colored red with grey flecks and dotted with a ring of windows was on the other side of the ship, though our vessel was still on the wide stone slab supporting both. A vain attempt of Salamede's ancestors to put these lands under their thumb that was spotted on one of our scouting trips. It was a small curio in the scouting reports, but seeing it firsthand made the attempt all the more impressive considering they had no air ships to aid them. They may have succeeded if not for the treachery of their neighbors. Or perhaps the snails would have sent them all packing in time. However their venture would have turned out, it bore needed fruit for us and perhaps a home for their glorious return.
Nearly the size of a mansion, its stone was badly worn with chips, cracks, and a deep fissure on the right side, and the empty hole where the gate of the main entrance used to be was a distant memory of security. Combined with the back end being almost totally caved in, it was a lost ruin. But as well as I did on the last dilapidated tower I holed up in, it was the base that had been the deciding factor when compared to a few rocky outcroppings that we had considered. A square slab that I wanted to say was around the size of a large town provided the foundation for the tower and told of a grand ambition left unrealized.
Coming out of the left side of the ruin, Salamede power walked towards us with a leather top over a white shirt and metal greaves covering her brown pants. It would have lent her a military look if not for the skip in her step. Running up to us, I only had enough time to get a hand on her side before she took me in a hug. Following it up with a kiss sending a sweetness across my tongue, I put a hand up to her grey neck fur. Her long ivory horns shifted with her head before she pulled back to take Gula in a similarly enthusiastic hug.
With no kiss in the greeting, the two quickly pulled back while workers walked by with loads of goods being offloaded. The Orc was as enthused as Salamede as they both turned to take in the ruin. Walking forward, I looked over the landscape to take in the various bits of sun reflecting off a pool or shiny shell amidst the clouds of gold mana flecks playing over the land.
"How's it going? Was the basement a total loss?" Gula asked.
"Nope," Salamede said with a bit of pride. "The snails haven't given us any trouble since Eli covered the whole area in flame and I was able to give it a thorough look over. I think it can be saved but the rest isn't fit for vagabonds."
"You went below?" I asked, quickly turning my head to raise an eyebrow at my Kelton wife. Her nonchalant shrug was unrepentant.
"Only the first few rooms near the entrance."
I took in a long breath between my teeth as I fixed her with my most withering frown.
"Just because I reinforced the tower walls doesn't mean going below is safe. As I said. Many times."
The Kelton woman had the shame to look away. Though an apology or promise to not do it again was conspicuously absent. She fumbled in one of her leather pockets on her right side until her hand pulled out a mana crystal and placed it in my hands. The long disk had horns twirling along the outside as the ridges spun inward. Hefting what would be a great treasure to most mages, I looked up towards Salamede as our trek took us near the tower.
"We thought them all lost," Salamede said, her low tone still showing excited energy. "I've heard they used these to help deal with our tempers. A mage seeking to duel with a rival party had to get two of these, one for the opponent and one for the chief. They were expensive enough that it kept the Kelton mages from killing each other over small slights."
"But not worth one of my people, much less my wife." I countered while the side of the tower cast a small shadow over us. Moving further along, we walked behind the ruin as the campsite came into view. I had moved a lot of the stone to mimic a fallen side of the tower that conveniently blocked the view of the camp from the rocky plains and made it harder for any of the snails to come up to our hidden corner. A large central canvas surrounded the inner expanse while bedsheets and small tents were scattered around a few feet from either side of the pile of misshaped stone that was far sturdier than it looked.
Salamede rubbed my side in appreciation while Gula snorted.
"Quite the charmer, this one," The Orc scoffed.
The people going back and forth around the camp were several guards, a select few elders along with Kantor, and some of the Frojan being led by Baloo. Whatever musings or conversation was going on stopped as I approached the center of the camp and sat on a boulder.
"Any word of travelers or enterprising scavengers since we last came?" I asked the group with a particular look to the older, black and grey furred Kelton man, Kantor, on my left. His steel armor plating was looking like a second skin these days, so smooth were his movements that when he bowed to me his curled brown horns didn't hinder his rise back up.
"None. These lands were long considered the sole domain of the snails. That our kind managed to get so far into their territory is a feat that would be sung of in song if the bards knew of it. Though, I am curious as to why you requested the elders for this mission."
Baloo stepped forward with his long staff tapping on the stone floor, his long blue robe now accompanied by a thick white shirt and pants. Clothing that also adorned the two large brown frogmen behind him.
"We were wondering what we were doing here as well." He asked, his amber eyes looking up and down as his deep voice reverberated around the camp.
Nodding to the group, I looked them all over. Despite being so far away from civilization, the healing crafts Salamede had fashioned for the older Keltons seemed to have undone some of the nastier sides of aging in this world. The lack of shivering in the Frojan also belayed any concerns about them being able to stay here.
"While you all know why we're this far down south, I've waited until now to tell you the true scope of our problems," I announced as Gula went to the Frojan on the right while Salamede stood with the Keltons on the left. "The Mist pirates are making a play for these lands, causing the Kispin haulers to look at our new home as a potential site for their harbor to escape the carnage. This, you all know. But the brothers have brought back new dimensions to this headache.
The Rodring kingdom's flotilla has been decimated and they are now relying on the house of healer's navy to contend with the invaders. That fleet is accompanying the main armada on the sea floor."
Bit lips and sharp intakes of breath took over for a moment before I continued.
"The Rodring kingdom is swinging a sword they don't know is made of paper. Even with that, the haulers are still considering a move north due to concerns over food and supply shortages accompanied by riots. Our task here is to solve their known and unknown problems. As monumental an undertaking as that is, I feel there is a third problem that will spawn from solving those two.
If we turn the tide, fortifying the Rodring position and filling their stores all the while them being none the wiser to our direct involvement, the rest of the kingdom is still too weak and the pirates too invested for the bandits to just shrug and go home. Even if they miss the chance to pull the haulers under their thumb this year, there's no reason they won't try to make it happen for next year's harvest. Since their main base is further south, I think it is rather likely they'll try to make a foothold in the Kelton lands. Being farther north, that would give them a good position to harass future harvests and fully encircle the local capital.
Hell, they'd probably do it so they don't have to share the bounty. Most importantly, I can't do much to supply the Rodring kingdom the troops to do offensive operations so far north. If the Mist pirates make such a move, the Kelton lands must have the strength to resist them, or the pirates will have free reign to sally onto the shipping lanes from both the north and south. That would likely force the haulers to cut a deal. I can't say what that deal would exactly entail, but the haulers would probably have to find an area away from the capital and murderous Kelton's to run their business. As they are doing now."
Wide white eyes and flared snouts stole over the Kelton's faces. The group started turning to their companions with scowls, each getting more and more irritated as what had to be spirit connection conversations got hotter with each passing second. One brown-furred man even started shaking his fists in the air before Salamede turned to him. Her ivory horns twirled as she drew back her head. Even being a bit shorter than him, she still managed to stagger him with a headbutt that sent a solid smack flying through the air.
"Enough!" My wife finally yelled over the group, "My husband didn't come here to deliver a speech and then fly away. Let him finish before we let our tempers ruin whatever plans he has."
She nodded to me as the commotion died down. Though some still fiddled with their swords or twirled their fur nervously, the Keltons were settled enough to let me continue.
"With that in mind, I want to set up a system and narrative that we can expand as needed to meet these challenges. I doubt they'll expend any real effort in such ventures while the main capital is seemingly ripe for the taking. But the pace of coming events demands we lay the groundwork now. At first, I want this to be a place for smugglers," I did a wave towards Gula and her Frojan. "We'll start by weaving a network of contacts that we can sell food to the Keltons, Orcs, and possibly humans through if my efforts alone cannot meet the demand. This will be a base of operations where they store their 'ill-gotten goods'.
If the Keltons can't keep the pirates off their lands, it will have to be upgraded to the site of Salamede's tribe rising from the grave. While I'm working in Crasden, you will be laying the foundation for a return of the Kelton mage clan with the smuggling being a scheme to prepare their lands for their glorious return."
Wide eyes greeted such a ridiculous announcement, but no objection to its plausibility came forward. Taking that as permission to continue, I expounded on my vision.
"Since it would be a big problem if the people on the council of this fabricated land were recognized by some of the visitors, I've brought you Kelton's here because anyone who knew you from your old life has died but you still know enough about the other clans. Salamede will be giving you magical lessons while we start making a new foundation for this grand deception. The first order of business is, of course, making Kelton mages. When I arrive in Crasden, Cell will get with me before he starts hunting out in the wilds and bringing you back magical resources to consume.
Our story needs to be flexible. If we don't get enough mages in time, we can say the blood of the clan is in decline and that's why they are coming back onto the scene now. Or perhaps you will be newcomers who took up the mantle of a dead people. But we'll work out those details if we decide to go down this route. Right now, I want a fully functional oasis of civilization before potentially selling this fabrication to the rest of the world."
Turning towards Gula, the Orc and Frojan were clearly wondering what their portion of all this work was.
"The single biggest protection against compromise is making sure that nothing we ride or carry can be traced back to the main base. Any ships, food, weapons, metal, or cloth put into our smuggling venture needs to be first sourced from the initial cargo or if the need is great enough, the mysterious benefactor in the snail plains. This means we need to get the forges, harbor, and buildings in place with the appropriate sign of aging and grand decor. We are lying an entire civilization into existence and the details are everything."
No great cheer went up, even from the excited Keltons. They all stood still with a heavy air and looked around. I could only nod in approval. I was asking them to reanimate a long dead people and the energy was appropriate for such a heavy task. Baloo stepped forward; his rough right hand rubbing his green backside.
"I see the why of them being here. But our water element isn't going to be much use and we aren't very good for hard labor."
Moving my hand to the left, I waved over the rocky landscape past the stone slab.
"Sailors who can't work a ship would raise questions. You'll be practicing with Beaton in the basics of sea-bound travel when Cell is back here and he's gotten the enchanted tools he needs to make a sea-faring ship. After you're trained, your troop and Gula will be traveling towards Baker's port. From there, you'll quickly get information about the local happenings, trade food smuggled from the 'Coalition', and get the connection you need to immediately come back to work in Crasden."
One of the older, brown Frojan on Baloo's left huffed.
"So, we're the brothers, only poor and dodging murderous cutthroats."
A pitying smile stole over my face as I did a light nod to them.
"A necessity of the moment. Though, I'd imagine your stock will reap good profit. Enough to start hiring more workers."
That got them all back on track as both groups stood rigid in anticipation.
"I had hoped the Orc people and their husbands would fill out the bulk of our workers and soldiers directly, but we need a screen for those who are determined to see Garren's vision made manifest. When we have the story here ready to sell, Gula's group can start bringing in people from the outside followed by Salamede if need be."
Salamede nodded in agreement while Gula's golden eyes practically shined in anticipation.
"With all that, are there any questions?" I asked the group.
A few rubbed their chins but most idled around until Kantor spoke up.
"I think we need a few moments to ponder, chief."
Nodding in agreement, I dismissed them all with a wave of my hand. Which then began the hard part of my day. While the rest went about their chores or rested by a wooden heater, I moved back towards the center of the ruined tower. The sunlight that managed to get past the clouds shined out of the row of windows on top of the rim of the tower. In the middle of the empty space was a double-doored hatch of wood wide enough to allow a carriage through.
Along the sides of the walls were bits of worn paint. Long faded reds and pinks told of a painter's work that had either peeled away or barely clung to its canvas. Even with the artistic merits of what looked to be swords or snails half-finished on the walls, it was far from an artist's peaceful abode. Horned skeletons scattered about the various corners suggested some of the reds may not be derived from oils or a brush.
Opening the hatch, I started using an earth spell to carefully lift the floor above the first level. Looking over the six rooms and the hallway between them leading to a staircase going a level lower, I used my magic to reinforce the chipped stone floor and firmly graft it into the wall of smooth rock. After a few minutes of planting down a few stone blocks and not having the floor give out, I felt the underlying structure of the first floor was sound.
Even so, testing the lower levels would require Cell to go below and stress test floors and pillars. Since he wasn't here, I filled in the stone walkway leading to the depths of the basement. Looking over the now exposed floor from above, there were a few more stacks of those mana coins near the front while the back had a mixture of cloth sacks and boxes of bright pink or yellow cloth. With husks of grains and bones of dead rats scattered around some of the bags, the only remaining vestige of the lost people were the surprisingly bright cloths that my bare eyes said largely missed the touch of time.
As I was perusing the lost history, Salamede and Gula approached me from the open side of the tower. The Kelton woman on the right was vibrating with energy while Gula had a light skip in her step. When they got close, they both rushed me in a hug with some unshed tears in their eyes.
"You haven't given up on us." Gula choked out while Salamede vibrated with joy against my chest.
Rubbing both their backs, I kissed their foreheads as they likewise removed my mask.
"Never did nor ever will. The situation has only forced me to help our people a bit quicker than planned."
They returned the affection twice over, taking my lips and cheeks in a whirlwind of kisses for a few seconds before settling their heads against my chest in a way that pressed their bodies fully against mine. As they rubbed the tears out of their eyes, I took the moment to have the other discussion I flew here to have.
"All that I do, I do for this family. Even if that means taking precautions some might consider extreme."
Gula looked at Salamede with a bit lip as I took a deep breath.
"Salamede…I-"
A grey-skinned finger came up to my lips.
"Eli, are you talking about doing some precautionary cutting down there? Like you did during your final visit to the Diamond academy?" She asked with a rub of her snout across my neck.
Thankfully, my hands were too busy rubbing their backs to slap my forehead.
"Yes, I suppose you had enough personal time with it to see the difference. Though, you didn't comment on it at all, so I thought the lighting was too dim for you to notice."
Salamede stiffened her chin before putting a hand on my chest.
"Eli, it is very big and delightfully impressive."
I closed my eyes as I pivoted my head upward. For a few glorious seconds, I was the king of the world and I suppose I should be grateful for that. Turning back to them, Salamede was nodding to me while Gula wore a small smile. The Kelton woman turned to the Orc with a look of a teacher giving instruction.
"Whenever talking with a man about this, make sure to lead with compliments about his member. Thinking there is any deficiency down there can destroy their confidence."
Gula took the advice to heart, nodding before looking me in the eyes with a hard stare.
"And you're incredible with how you use it." The green woman purred with a small smile.
An eye roll and puckering of my lips was my only response. Waiting for a minute and enjoying the light atmosphere, we stood together before Salamede got a bit more serious.
"I understand," She said in a voice whose roughness did nothing to hide her hesitance. "But I have something else I want to discuss that involves you. In the days leading up to birthing Cell, you said there was some pain."
I raised an eyebrow at the question while my mind groped through the memories of that distant time.
"Yes," I answered, "It was a pain that came and went in my chest."
Her white eyes widened a bit as her lips puckered with a question.
"Wait," Gula asked with a raised black eyebrow "Cell came into the world like…"
She waved at my gut.
"No," I said, furrowing my eyebrows at the insinuation. "Salamede saw how it happened, but it wasn't a womanly birth if that's what you're thinking."
The grey-furred Kelton bit her lip as she looked around the room.
"I can't say what kind of birth it was, Eli. The vine suit was obstructing the proceedings."
Taking a moment to notice the small smirk on her lips, I made a mental note to exact revenge in the future before continuing the subject.
"It was a while ago. What brought this on?" I finished.
Salamede bit her lip, her gaze still taking in the surrounding stonework and the padded paintings.
"I think I'm a scion."
I nodded but Gula was far more animated in her glee as she took her sister-wife in a hug. The Orc woman's strong arms wrapped around the Kelton woman's leather tunic and white shirt with both patting each other. Looking her over, her new status didn't seem to bring her any joy.
"It might be that," Salamede said, taking Gula in her right arm. The position put her in the center of our three-way hug. A change I embraced by taking her open arm and rubbing her neck with my right hand. "But all I have to go on is some pain in my sides, back, and shoulders. At first, I thought it was just me pushing too hard, but it comes and goes, and it doesn't matter how much I've worked.
There are no scions among our people. The ones who were all held up in the rubble of our former home and now their bones adorn the ocean floor. I'm not sure how such a position is supposed to behave. There are a few mages among the Kelton clans but they'll no doubt expect me to be this great figure if we bring my people back to the world."
She stopped perusing the walls, turning to me with a bit lip.
"More than that, there's the issue of promoting the magical bloodlines among my people. I can say I'm infertile when the clan heads come sniffing around. But some of them will no doubt still try to see if they can bring me into their marriage through progeny."
The hair on my neck stood up. After my experience at the Diamond academy, I had already considered such an angle, but it didn't make the thought any less egregious. At that moment, I decided her guard would have to have a few extra bits of attention. Gula seemed equally concerned as she patted the Kelton's left shoulder.
"I suppose there isn't any way we could pass you off as a man." She offered with a look down to the generous slopes of Salamede's leather tunic.
"Gula," I said with a serious face, drawing the attention of both women. "Your breasts are some of the most delightful and supple mom bags to ever grace the female form."
My display of linguistic mastery, like most great art, went unappreciated as my green wife's left hand swatted my belly. A few light chuckles bounced around the stone walls as we relaxed in each other's presence. As the three main pillars of our group, we didn't have much time to just be together. And we weren't going to have any in the weeks to come. We spent a few minutes discussing Salamede's time here and the gonging's on at the main base, but as we sat in a small circle the main point of discussion was what base design to go with. The future queen of this possible domain was studying and comparing the pages with an excitement that wasn't so different from her perusing the options for our first home.
"The snail shells are a no in my opinion." Gula chimed with a lazy perusing of the painted walls. "Too much work for no real benefit. Can't put archers on the top or any siege equipment."
"It was the more decorative one." I conceded with a shrug.
"First impressions mean a lot." Salamede countered. She had the pyramid paper in her left hand and the dome in her right. Her lips were pursed in concentration as she looked between the two. "Eli, how much is this decision going to influence how we build the rest of the city?"
"A lot. Are we going to pack out the refugees into slums? That seems to be the preferred method here."
Her head shot up with a swing of her ivory horns. That white stripe from her snout to her forehead scrunched with irritation.
"No. We are most definitely not. There's more than enough of that in the holds."
"Not without reason," I said, keeping my tone a light argument. "Being cramped in a shabby wooden house is better than being inside a monster's spacious gut."
She bit her lips as she silently nodded. The task before her was not an easy one, but she was the only one with the history, fur, and magical ability to see this task to its end. Even so, I would provide her with as much relief as I could.
"Then we should probably go with the domed bazaar with towers. It would show off enough craftsmanship that we could justify putting in a little city for all the starving widows and orphans. But-"
The Kelton looked up at me with a raised eyebrow.
"I was serious about bringing nothing from our main home when the time comes. Take as many enchanted items as you need. We can always say the mages who made them died long ago if none of those elements show up in our upcoming crop of mages. But once that first load of newcomers arrives, the only thing coming out of our main base will be scouting reports."
The Kelton woman nodded before Gula coughed for our attention.
"Whatever you think you need, triple it. If I learned anything in my campaigns, enough food and cloth is almost half of what you'll need."
"You'll need some metal crafts as well." I chimed in. "Stick to general manipulators and simple brick forges. I'll start making a canal around the stone edge and fill out a stone harbor to make as much of the day as I can."
And I did precisely that for a few hours. The snails weren't eager to go near the place so many of their fellows perished in flames earlier and when I used spells to rip the stone out of the way, none tried to swim over the growing pool for a meal. A few skittered across the surface of the water, seemingly testing the open area with a few spells, but from what I saw of their habits the exposed waves in the sea didn't suit them and the smaller version here was likewise avoided.
My original intention was to dig down to the base of the stone block upon which our false kingdom could one day fully occupy and fortify it against erosion. After plunging several dozen feet below water and finding no bottom or trace of wear on the massive, square body of rock, I decided to confirm a suspicion. Using an earth spell to lift the surface of the stone floor, the bit of rock was quickly replaced with the same red and grey flecked stone. Seeing the mana get sucked in by some layer of wood or mana crystal holding a summoning enchantment beneath, I could only nod my head in approval at the long-dead people's devotion to good craftsmanship.
I stuck with a simple wooden walkway supported by stone pillars of smooth grey stone. We were probably going to have to remake it with new decoration to match the as-of-yet unmade city, so I kept it to the bare bones with no artistry to speak of. When that was finished, I made two paths in the snail-riddled rocks of clear water leading towards the unseen ocean. Marking the intake section with a wide arch of stone that would later spew molten stone on attackers, the sun finally faded as I put in the last stone brick. But the night's task was not yet finished.
Using a flame spell for light, I crafted a wooden enchantment on a long board and attached it to the side of the pier. It would slowly grow and mold a simple ship from the mass of wooden pieces I put in front of it with any failing ship edges being a project for the morning. Thinking I was going to get a night's sleep among the main camp, I walked up to the stone outcropping near the tower when I was stopped by a pair of the steel-plated Kelton's.
"The lady has instructed you to sleep in the tower." He gave a light bow that shifted his brown hair as he gave the command.
I raised an eyebrow but followed my wife's second-hand instructions. Coming into the tower through the open back, the first thing I noticed was the pitched tent over one of the exposed rooms. The golden glow of an inner mana lamp made it hard to miss. After looking it over, I looked to the right and saw the glow reflecting a bit off Gula's form. A naughty smile covered her face as I approached.
"I thought you were a bit worn out from last nigh-"
Her hands did a rough pull down on my mask before she stole my lips with a vinegar heat covering my tongue. I was content to enjoy the sensation for a second before she broke the kiss.
"Good luck," Was all she said as she re-adjusted my mask. The Orc then gave me a swat on the bum before walking past my left towards the main camp.
My curiosity now thoroughly peaked, I took the appropriate moment to linger on my Orc wife's body shining under the moonlight above before turning down the open hole where the hatch had been. Taking the stone steps down, I looked down the rows of open doorways save for the one directly on my left, the entrance of which was covered by a white cloth with the golden glow playing behind it. As my head went through the fabric obstruction, the first thing that hit me was the smell. A sharp slap of cinnamon being cooked with flowers assaulted my senses.
A smell that quickly faded from my mind.
On top of a spread of blue and white pillows was Salamede sitting upright with her legs crossed. She was as bare as the day she was born and if that wasn't distracting enough, she had lathered her motherly body in oil. It was clear liquid with flecks of red that covered every inch of her grey skin and doused the fur above her shoulders and those pubes doing nothing to disguise the presentation of her womanhood. The mana lamp she placed behind her added to the appeal as the rays of light shined off her edges, the most enticing of which were droplets of the thick liquid trickling down the tips of her brown nipples.
"I would have run here to restore this place with nothing but my hands and feet if I knew you'd like it this much." I casually teased, my clothes of crafted leaves and plant fibers suddenly feeling rather stuffy.
She shook her head, getting off the floor from her goddess-like pose.
"No," She said in a spirit connection I was too distracted to realize she had made. Her firm tone dripped with confidence that extended to her stride forward. An attitude I found almost as intoxicating as everything else I was seeing. 'This is a special oil that I had the older women whip up as thanks for saving so many of my kind and as a going away present.'
Salamede pressed her body right up against me, taking special care to squeeze her chest against mine. I could only smile as her sparkling right arm moved past me to press a wooden block on the wall. A loud whoosh fell over the room. The Kelton woman followed the movement up with a reach into my shirt, rubbing my chest and that slick, red flecked oil over my pecks.
'Saving the whole of the Kelton lands?' The Kelton woman asked with a languorous lick of her lips below her flaring snout. Something I found particularly appealing as she removed my smiling metal mask with graceful movements until she had it down and around my lower neck. 'A thousand pleasant nights wouldn't be enough.'
'Well-'
An oiled finger shot up to my lips, flooding my nostrils with the rich cinnamon and floral scent.
"No more words." Her rough voice did nothing to make her less mesmerizing. "They would only make me moan of my debt to you. Those are not the sounds I want filling my tent this night. Come, let's see just how much endurance two scions can display in this arena of battle." She commanded, unclasping my mask and throwing it to the floor with a loud clang of metal. Salamede wasted no time in pulling me by my pants towards the stacks of pillows and pointedly not turning the lamp off as we landed on the pile.
Following her lead, the night quickly faded in a lot of whooping, kissing, and a thorough dousing in that scented oil.