Chapter 445 - Plots (Patreon)

Silik looked down on the other kobold and frowned. It was odd, seeing a member of the new caste. Before, there were only four. The ones who took the path of the warrior ended up as legionnaires or centurions. Or in Silik’s case, a general. Then there were the scouts who ended up as rangers. Third came the broodtenders, who cared for the young. And finally, there were spiritweavers like Kianma, who’d once functioned as the link in the chain that kept them connected to the Mother. That had given them access to fantastic powers that let them serve the clutch via healing as well as gave them a position of leadership.

But since leaving their home beneath the mountain, the kobolds had evolved rapidly, with many reaching the precipice of sapience. That, along with new demands, meant that new castes had developed. Now, there was a whole swathe of non-combatants that focused on farming, tradecraft, and mercantile pursuits. It was a massive shift in kobold society, and one that would take quite some adjustment for them to acclimate. Yet, Silik knew that if they were to forge ahead into a new and productive future, they needed to emulate the more sapient races. That meant that their society had to evolve, lest they fail to reach their potential.

None would accept that after what the Mother had sacrificed to save them. So, when he looked upon the slim kobold who worked as a merchant, Silik suppressed his budding sense of superiority as he reminded himself that the clutch needed such members.

It certainly didn’t help that the kobold in question was not being very cooperative.

“I get my goods the same way as everyone else,” he said, holding his chest out as he looked up at Silik. Before, that kind of show of aggression would have been met ruthlessly, but Silik restrained himself from acting on instinct. Kianma kept telling him that the mark of sapience was the ability to rise above such things. It was difficult, though, especially when the kobold was half his size and even weaker than that suggested. An image of grabbing the creature by his scrawny neck and asserting his dominance flashed through Silik’s mind, but he repressed it the moment it tried to take root. He was better than that. He had to be. “I hope you’re not implying that I’m in some way negligent!” the little merchant hissed.

“Not at all,” Silik replied evenly. “I am merely gathering information. Nearly a hundred people are dead.”

“People,” the merchant spat. “Weak and useless savages who can’t earn their keep. Not like the clutch. Or the beastkin. Those brutes know how to work, let me tell you. Bit rough around the edges, but we’re civilizing them, bit by bit.”

That was an attitude that had begun to pervade the tower. In a way, division seemed inevitable. The clutch had their unspoken rules and customs, which often put them at odds with the beastkin who had completely separate ideas about societal norms. Then, the humans who’d been peasants added a third set of customs to the mix. And on the periphery were the centaurs, who were just as different as every other faction.

There was plenty of mixing between the four groups, which was probably the source of the merchant’s speech patterns. Certainly, he’d never learned to talk like that within the clutch. Yet, his attitude represented a wider spread problem where the kobolds saw themselves as superior to the other groups. That was, in large part, based on their close relationship with Ak-Toh, but it was also because, aside from the centaurs, they were the highest-leveled and most martially proficient of the groups.

That was an issue that would, at some point, become a serious problem. And yet, though Silik had the foresight to see what was coming, he had no notion of how to stop it. Luckily, that wasn’t his role.

“Where, specifically, did you get the meat?” he asked.

He’d already spoken to the cooks in the area, and they had all gotten their ingredients from the merchant in front of him.

“Same as everybody else, like I said!”

“Which is?”

“The Craftsman’s Terrace. They process the meat up there. I don’t know where they get it otherwise,” the merchant said. “I get my veggies there, too. And my mushrooms. It could’ve been anything.”

He was correct. It was easy to latch onto the idea of tainted meat, but it could have just as easily have been bad vegetables, fruits, or mushrooms. Indeed, the bulk of the kobolds’ diet was meat, but they’d supplemented it with plenty of other foodstuffs that trying to narrow the source of the taint down to one thing was incredibly difficult.

Yet that was his task.

After asking a few more questions, he realized that he’d exhausted the possibilities of interviewing the merchants in the Residential District, so he decided to head to the next location on his list: the cellar.

So, without further ado, he set off, across the district, eventually finding his way to the teleporter. Once there, he selected the Merchant’s Floor and was whisked away. Calling them floors was a bit of a misnomer, because each one, with the exception of the Crimson Springs, was the size of a small town. Or in the case of the Residential District, it covered an area more comparable to a mid-sized city.

The Merchant’s Floor was no different, in that respect. In the center was a large market with hundreds of stalls, each selling a variety of goods that included food, equipment, and luxury items. The preferred currency was the same gems that were used in the rest of the Eternal Realm, though there was a good deal of barter involved as well. Along the edges of the floor were more specialized and high-end shops that catered to the wealthier among the residents of the Crimson Tower.

Some of it had been looted in the cities of Adontis they’d conquered, but the bulk of the goods had been created in the tower. That, in turn, had fostered a sense of accomplishment among the residents, though they’d yet to truly live up to their potential. It would eventually come, Silik was certain.

Regardless, he was not interested in the goods on offer. Instead, he waded through the mixed crowd of tower residents until he reached his destination. On the surface, it looked no different from any of the other premises built into the outer wall. Yet, it was guarded by a half-dozen powerful centurions and twice as many legionnaires. The less powerful legionnaires were arrayed along the façade, while the centurions were stationed in front of the doors. Anyone who tried to enter without authorization would find their way blocked. And if they persisted, the powerful kobold guards had leave to use lethal force.

As Silik approached, all eighteen kobolds slapped their fists against their chests in their customary salute. Silik gave them a nod as he passed them by, entering the building. Of course, it was no ordinary building. Instead, it was merely the access point for Ak-Toh’s spatial storage. Parts of it were locked away, but he had made food and raw materials available for the kobolds. So, when Silik entered, he felt a slight shimmer in the surrounding mana as he was teleported to the cellar. There, he saw a massive warehouse filled with goods of all kinds. Piles of meat were neatly stacked in one corner, while in another, strips of leather were stored. In different section, there was all sorts of ore, and yet another contained weapons and armor.

It was a collection worth a fortune, and Ak-Toh had made it all available to his people without a single thought for repayment. That was why he was the savior.

Well, one of the reasons.

There were a bunch of kobolds inside the storage space, each working to organize and distribute the goods inside. They were all industrious, hard-working kobolds, which gave Silik a sense of satisfaction. They understood the value of working for the greater good. Certainly, they were compensated for their efforts, but the diligence they displayed was a comforting sight to see.

He quickly found his way to the food storage area, where he interviewed the female kobold who was the overseer. As Silik had suspected, no one but the kobolds had been in contact with the food, though she couldn’t speak to what had happened before or after it had left the storage space. That led him to the next location on his list, which was the Craftsman’s Terrace.

Upon arrival, he was once again struck by how much it had changed since the first time he’d visited the floor. It still looked like a giant, stepped mountain, complete with blue skies and a weather cycle. Yet, where there had once only been a few levels, which were occupied by various crafting stations, there were now dozens. They were much larger, as well, with many housing entire fields of crops.

Eta greeted him when he stepped off the teleportation platform.

“I thought you might pay us a visit,” she said, flanked by a one-legged elf. “Is this about the deaths?”

Silik nodded. “Yes. I have investigated the other areas of interested, which leaves me with your operation,” he said.

The elf – whose name was Kala, he remembered – said, “I don’t know how anyone would have tainted the food supply. We guard it closely.”

Silik shrugged his massive shoulders before saying, “I do not know either. Please, show me around.”

And they did. It was an impressive sight, and with the naturalistic landscape, it was easy to forget that he was inside the tower. Yet, the density of the mana as well as the presence of his people – who were working as farmers alongside beastkin and former peasants – were great reminders of where he was.

Eta and Kala showed Silik a plethora of fields, each dedicated to a different staple. Grain, corn, and other crops abounded, and there was even a section underground where they grew the mushrooms his people had been cultivating for their entire history. Yet, he saw no areas of opportunity for sabotage.

Until he reached the warehouse where the crops were loaded up for transport to the cellar on the Merchant’s Floor.

“I see many humans,” he said.

“Yes. This is not a desirable job,” Eta stated. “Normally, we start people here, then move them to other areas after they’ve paid their dues. Naturally, that means that there’s a concentration of peasants, right now.”

“They are no longer peasants,” he stated. “Do you supervise them?”

“Not really. So long as the crops get where they’re supposed to go, we leave them to themselves,” Kala answered. “Though there are kobolds in charge, they’re stretched pretty thin.”

“I see.”

And he did. If there was a vulnerability, then the warehouse was it. “Please send someone to fetch Kianma,” he said, standing at the entrance to the warehouse. The workers were clearly nervous at his close proximity, and they attempted to distract from that by focusing on their tasks. It was only moderately successful.

In any case, Eta sent a kobold juvenile – they were everywhere on the Terrace, running errands and doing what manual labor they could – to find Kianma, and the trio settled in to wait. As they did, Silik learned more about the way everything in the Terrace functioned.

“We are making progress with plant mages,” Eta said. “Kobolds don’t really have an affinity for the work, but they can be taught. Perhaps in time, we can help them develop an attunement. If that happens, our food production will grow by leaps and bounds.”

“Not to mention the other benefits,” Kala interjected excitedly.

“What other benefits?” Silik asked.

“With the right skills, a dedicated plant mage can grow crops dedicated to certain attunements,” she explained. “Think of them as miniature natural treasures. They’re not powerful enough to harm anyone, but they can slowly introduce an attunement. It takes years, but it’s the preferred method in most civilized places.”

“Ah. I see.”

For his part, Silik didn’t have an attunement, but from what he’d overheard from Ak-Toh, developing attunements was key to his plans for the kobolds. As such, he approved of Eta’s and Kala’s attempts to ease that transition.

After a half hour, Kianma arrived, trailing a group of other colorfully plumed spiritweavers. When she approached, she nodded in his direction and asked, “Why did you summon me?”

“Do you have a ritual that can detect foreign mana?” he asked. “I believe that someone is tainting the food with a skill, and I have narrowed the origin down to this warehouse. I do not know how to find the tainted food, though.”

Kianma cocked her head to the side, then turned to her attendants. They spent the next few minutes huddled in conversation before she revealed that she had something that she thought would work. After that, she asked, “May I have your spear, General?”

He handed it over. The weapon was enormous in her hands, yet she handled it with ease. Then, she placed it on the ground before arranging the other spiritweavers in a circle surrounding it. Once they had arrayed themselves to her specifications, they all raised a single hand each before beginning a chant.

Silik recognized some of the words, but the rest made little sense to him. Still, he felt the mana swirling at their command, and the density of the ambient energy continued to increase until, at last, each of the spiritweavers slashed their palms and released the ritual. The mana surged, then imploded, concentrating on the spear. It only lasted a second, but in that moment, it felt like all the mana had been sucked out of the area.

But then, the mana outside the ritual’s area of effect came crashing back in, quickly normalizing.

Kianma intoned, “Pick up the spear, General.”

Silik did just that, and to his surprise, he felt a tingle rushing through the spear and into his hand. “What did you do?”

“It is a ritual. It will detect hostile mana,” she said. “However, you must work quickly because it will not last long.”

Silik nodded, then began an investigation of the food stores. At first, he expected it to take quite some time, yet he found what he was looking for after only a minute. When he passed an area piled high with bushels of wheat, the spear suddenly grew blazing hot, and when he grew closer, the temperature only increased. Clearly he’d found the first instance of tainted food, but he wanted to make certain that there were no others. So, he continued his inspection, and to his dismay, he found seven other areas that had been sabotaged.

“Round the workers up,” he said. “Anyone who has worked here at any time over the past three weeks. Also, someone must fetch Ak-Toh. We need his guidance.”

If it had been up to Silik, he would have executed every person who might have been involved. Certainly, some innocents would be killed, but that was a better outcome than letting even one of the culprits run free. However, Ak-Toh had different ideas about justice, and as such, he would surely want to dictate how they responded.