The Butcher of Gadobhra

Damien nudged a chunk of rock into position with disgust. He hated puzzles that were missing pieces, and this collection of heavy rocks that used to be a Tier 5 teleportation stone certainly counted as that. He and Vladimir had been arranging the rocks in their proper position for two days now. Vladimir loved the challenge and cackled with glee whenever they agreed on where a piece should go, which wasn't often. While they had 95% of the old stone, the missing 5% was vexing both of them. Vladimir could approximate the missing pieces and carve the connecting sections of runes, but the placement had to be perfect. Trial and error methods were boring to Damien, which created dangerous thoughts in his head that wanted to come out and play.

"There simply must be a better way than this slow and tedious method of testing each new configuration."

Vladimir struck a pose as if he was thinking, "Wait! You love science! Let's use the scientific method. You know, the boring, repetitious method we are using now. Go, science!"

"I love mad science and finding things from making mistakes! It's not-boring, normal science that follows established rules. I have half a mind to...hmm, that's odd..."

"That you have half a mind? I mean, I've always suspected you were a few neurons shy of a frontal lobe."

"Not what I am referring to, you mixture of random genetics! Observe the rubble we are working on. It's become frosted over, and some of the pieces have a distinct trembling to them. The mana is trying to move through the channels in odd ways."

Vladimir put his index finger on a rapidly cooling piece of broken stone, then stuck it into his mouth to taste the mana. "Wild and Icy mana, very sloppy and unrefined. I would wonder which idiot in the Mage's Guild decided to power their system with it, but I really don't care. They've done us a favor." He quickly moved around the broken stone, pushing the trembling pieces one way or another. Damien observed for a moment, saw what his partner was referring to, and began helping.

Vladimir carefully balanced on the inner pieces, putting them into their new positions while his less agile partner worked around the edges. Damien had a theory, "I've been forced to work with this type of unrefined mana before. I hated it. It never behaved how it should, showing random characteristics and producing undesired effects. But it also led to a few brilliant discoveries. This is another of those. The mana isn't staying in the channels when they aren't properly defined. That phenomenon gives us the clues we need to finish this damned puzzle. We'll need to find out who is doing this so I can wipe their brain and take complete credit for the discovery."

A half-hour of frantic work led to a perfectly balanced runic configuration that met Vladimir's standards. "Call the witch and her gaggle of madmen. We have work to do!" Damien pulled a flaregun from his pocket and fired it into the sky, creating gloriously colored fireworks.

Soon, the two members of the School of Engineering of the Arcane University of Gadobhra were joined by professors from the College of Experimental Magics. All of the Professors were delighted to help out in any experiment Vladimir or Damien proposed, and the two had also found themselves helping with bizarre rituals and alchemical experiments that made their brains scream. The unholy collaboration between the two halves of the new University was messy but strangely effective. Today's experiment was proof of the Baron's wisdom in placing the two groups in close proximity.

The two groups were meeting in the large courtyard between the two halves of the University. To either side, square gothic towers soared into the sky, the envy of any crazed wizard. The new buildings had been built in just a night when the Baron had spent a hefty amount of building points and summoned the mysterious builders who had reconstructed Sedgewick. They followed the original plans for Gadobhra, modified slightly by the shape and size demanded of the new buildings. Most of the floors were still empty, but plans were afoot to fill them with laboratories of all types.

The process today had been discussed, but none of the professors had expected to be summoned so quickly! They had come running as soon as they saw the exploding flare floating in the sky. They saw Damien rapidly sketching runic formations in a notebook and taking measurements while Vladimir stood in the center of the broken stone, floating above an increasingly powerful runic array.

To the side of the broken stone was a newly mined and polished slab of bloodstone, twenty-five feet on each side, the same dimensions as the older stone. This slab had been mined from the rock layer deep in the Red Chapel. A full raid by 27 members of the Order of Heracles had bulldozed their way through the ghouls, escorting four stone carvers from Sedgewick down to the bottom layer. The Order stood guard for the two days it took to carve the new stone out of the rock and the day it took to move it to the top of the dungeon. The Order was paid well for their time, and the Baron was very happy with the new stone and the clearing of the dungeon. The only unhappy people were the ghouls, but even some of them benefitted. With the small population left in the dungeon, almost all of the residents of the graveyard picked up their headstones and moved inside, claiming homes in the more prestigious areas.

The new slab had been expertly carved and polished, although Vladimir was saddened that he couldn't achieve the beautiful reds of the original finish of the stone at Rowan Keep. The next step was carving the runic array into the new stone, but that had been held up until now by the maddening puzzle of the old stone. Seeing that somehow the engineers had solved the problem, the mages took their positions. Vladimir was given a special brush by Titania who held one as well. The rest of the professors lent their concentration and mana to the ritual and as Vladimir sketched out the runic array with one brush, it was copied by Titania's brush on the new stone. It took hours for the ritual to complete, but in the end, Vladimir nodded his head, satisfied that the pattern had been properly copied.

Smiling like a child with a new toy, Johannes began the long and tedious chore of carving the deep channels, following along the painted patterns, supervised by a nervous and exhausted Vladimir. Damien and the other professors offered moral support and encouragement by relaxing on the nearby benches with snacks and alcohol. The Baron and Baroness had been watching from the roof of the ACME building, observing the ritual, but keeping their distance. Micro-managing took a lot of work and often screwed up a project. What mattered here was a working teleport stone for the city.

Billy put down his spyglass. "They're breaking out the food and beer, so I will suggest we celebrate as well. What say we see how that new batch of wine Suzette sent over tastes? I will be so happy to send Vern a report that I have a working teleporter and can start selling goods throughout the Empire."

God Emperor Unca Varn sat on his malachite throne listening and only half understanding the scribe-priest in front of him who was reading from a long scroll, informing him of the state of his jungle empire. Things were going splendidly, at least according to his reports to the board of directors. The amount of land he could claim was astounding, and easily ten times what Billy was reporting. And he wasn't using contract workers at all, just cheap native labor.

The one line item that distressed him was the cost of the mercenary company and the dozens of specialized players he'd hired. Some were expensive, such as the Southern Druid who held a PhD in archeology in real life and had studied linguistics for fifty years. He'd found that the lizard tribes used languages very close to dialects of ancient Mayan civilizations. Of course, those dialects were mostly lost to history. He was diligently working with the priests, comparing their words to the modern Mayan languages still used in parts of Mexico. There were problems with pronunciation, humans used more lips and less tongue to form their words. But they had a working set of words that were helping him converse with the hundreds of priests who ran his Empire.

Most of the other players that he'd 'hired' were paid small amounts of real-world dollars and given access to the dungeons and surrounding hunting areas. The jungle was incredibly dangerous for them, but part of their pay was provided in the form of native guides and bodyguards. They were slowly building a small town in one of the areas the priests considered bad karma. The tribe there had rebelled, refused to pay taxes, and broken the statue of an old emperor. They had been hunted to extinction and their village was reduced to rubble. The priests were happy to have the humans take the area. The Hungry Ghosts that haunted it needed to be fed.

As he sat, half listening to the garbled reports from each village, bearers began bringing in the midday meal of fruit, pickled cactus, tasty beetles in honey, and roasted sloth. Vern's eyes moved to the large bowls they were using and he gasped in amazement before running over to the table and dumping the carefully arranged bananas to the floor. The gleaming golden bowl was a half-inch thick and extremely heavy. "Gold! This is Gold! Where did it come from?"

The priest sighed in displeasure. He would have gotten to that announcement in two more hours of reports. "We are happy that the God-Emperor is pleased with them. The key to the tribute area went missing two hundred years ago at the same time one of the royal advisors disappeared with several heavily laden wagons. We worried not, because the tribute area was secure, but the cooks wished to serve this season's meals in the shiny gold metal that you love. It took many weeks, but a new key was fashioned through trial and error, and the loss of half a tribe. We can now serve you in style."

"Show me this area!"

"Now? But it is surely time to eat the midday meal and pray to the ancestors...."

"Show me now!"

The priest shrugged. This new God-Emperor could usually be managed, but sometimes he had a mind of his own and must be catered to. "Of course. I will arrange two squads of guardian troops and the proper attendants. Please have a banana while I make sure we have the proper minions for a trip to the Great Temple."

That was the best Vern could manage, as the priests refused to go without the proper guards. Some seemed quite nervous even with a dozen large Krocs in front and more behind their party. The trip across the city took a half hour, and then they descended the steps to the under-temple beneath the great pyramid. They traveled over 20 stories down the huge spiral stairs, Vern sitting on his portable throne and carried by four bearers. Finally, they came to double doors over twenty feet high and the priest signaled the guards and a priest with a large stone key.

The Keymaster worked for ten minutes, unlocking first one part of the doors and then another while a scribe read the instructions. Everyone was very nervous until the last lock clicked, and the doors swung open. The room behind the doors was over two hundred feet on each side and shaped like the interior of a pyramid. Piles of gold were everywhere, with seven priests working to sort the bars, coins, statues, bowls, crowns, and other shining objects into mounds of similar items. Several stacks of bowls and goblets were sitting by the doors.

Vern stared for long minutes and then asked, "And where does this all come from?"

"Why, from your villages, of course. They have been paying their tribute (most of them) for all the long years since the last god emperor ascended to the heavens. We apologize for the disorder. While the key was missing, we had no access to the room. It will take many years to properly sort your treasure."

Even as they spoke, a golden bowl and several coins fell from the apex of the pyramid and clanged on the gold below. A scroll also floated down. "See? Tribute! The villagers are respectful and will live another year. A scribe will retrieve the paperwork and note it in our books of tribute."

Vern's mind was reeling. With this much gold, he could buy half the Empire. He just needed to get some wagons and get to a bank. And for that, he needed a lot more road. "Have the road builders reached the first village in the Empire yet?"

"No, God-Emperor, they have another three leagues to go and then will need to communicate with the humans there. So far, they have avoided us."

"Triple the road-building crew. I want to get to the village as fast as we can. If it doesn't have a teleport stone, build a road north and to every village until we reach one. If we need more scouts, guards, or road builders, use as many as we need. This project has priority. After that, we'll be visiting the big cities. Somewhere that has a bank." Vern couldn't wait until Billy read his progress report about depositing millions of gold into a gnomish bank. Hell, maybe he'd teleport his gold convoy to Sedgewick and do it there just to rub his nose in it.

The guards were ecstatic as a priest translated and shouted out the God-Emperor's words. The Krocs beat on their shields and stamped their feet. The armies would march tomorrow, building War Roads to every village, seeking out the magical transport stones that would let them take this war deep into the Empire of the humans.