CPC-02. Couch Potato Crisis, page 29
part #2 of Couch Potato Chronicles Series
In total, there were six buttons to switch the blade’s elemental damage type plus one to return it to elemental neutral static.
She experimented with the different elemental options. The life element created a camouflage effect where each side of the blade showed an image of the other. From just the right angle, the blade would be invisible. The death element slowly drained Tasha’s heart containers but did extra damage. The Earth element amplified the weight of the weapon, making it harder to hold while increasing its damage.
Except for the static option, each element consumed a small but continual drain on her mana.
A second set of buttons at the bottom of the remote allowed her to adjust the trigger action. She could decrease or increase the amount of damage and the duration of the blade’s enchantment. An LED display showed how much mana each application of the spell would consume.
It was currently set to draw 0.1 mana and increase damage by 46% for 0.4 seconds. She experimented with the controls and found the amount of damage dealt was linear, the product of the damage multiplier times the duration. That meant she could increase it to 1 mana and multiply her damage by 460%, but only for 0.4 seconds. If she mistimed her attack, she’d spend an entire mana point without dealing any damage at all. She could increase the duration, but that also increased the cost.
She looked up from experimenting with her new gunblade. Three gnomes were already carrying their boss’s treasure chest back to the ship.
“We’d better get going,” she said, “K’her, how long will it take us to reach Ironfall from here?”
The captain said, “If we depart now, we'll be crossing into Zhakara by midday tomorrow, 'n Ironfall the day after that.”
“Good,” said Kegan. “We’ve tarried in this place for too long.”
The party exited the dungeon and trekked back to the Dea Latis to continue their voyage.
The Intermission
Henimaru’s Quest
Garbed in full iron plate armor, Henimaru the Toad also wore a helm that curved upward on either side. The helmet was down, so only a portion of his green skin was visible. Black and red spots of discoloration also dotted his flesh.
He approached the city. His journey to recover his tadpoles had led him to track the slavemonger to Ironfall, a hub of Zhakaran industry and commerce.
Two human guards stood on either side of the open gates. He peered at them with his perfectly black eyes. A scan revealed their names were Garven and Nozzo, two spearmen of levels 65 and 67, respectively. He could only hope they wouldn’t recognize him as a toad-person, but if they did, he was prepared to fight.
As he got closer, Nozzo and Garven crossed their spears in unison, barring his passage.
“Halt!” said Nozzo.“State your name and business in Ironfall.”
Henimaru cleared his throat. “Prithee, good sir, wouldst thou permiteth me to pass through yon gate? For my name is Henimaru and I am but a humble merchant of little renown.”
“If you’re a merchant, where are your wares?”
“In my inventory, of course. Mayeth I pass?”
Garven asked, “What kind of wares do you have in stock?”
“The usual. Foodstuffs, and the like.”
Nozzo licked his lips. “I’ll need to see a sample of your wares before you can pass, sir.”
Henimaru’s eyes began to track a bee flying in the air, just in front of Garven’s face. Before he could stop himself, he flung out his long sticky tongue which snatched the bug out of the air and he gobbled it up.
“Hey, you just swallowed that bug!” accused Nozzo.
“What? No, I didn’t.”
“I saw you. You did! Didn’t he Garven?” Henimaru snatched up another fly with his tongue. “There you did it again!”
Henimaru burped. “Oh, excuse me. May I pass now?”
Nozzo said, “Fine, but don’t think you’re getting in for free. We expect fair remuneration for our trouble, traveler.”
Henimaru said, “How rude of me. I hath nearly forgotteneth the bribe.” He regurgitated three dead flies into Nozzo’s outstretched hands. “Please enjoyeth this sample of my wares. It’s my gift to rewardeth such hard-working members of the city watch. Now, if thou wilt excuse me?”
He hopped past the confused looking city watchmen and continued to his destination. He’d been traveling in Zhakara for months, seeking clues leading to the whereabouts of his tadpoles. He’d learned his offspring had been sold to a merchant living in the lower city of Ironfall. It took him some time to find the right house, but find it, he had. He rapped on the door.
A tired, balding man answered, holding the door partially open. His half-lidded, bloodshot eyes spoke to a lack of sleep. “Yeah?”
Henimaru bowed slightly and spoke. “Prithee, good sir, please permiteth me to introduseth mine self, for I am Henimaru.”
“Are you a toad person?” asked the tired-looking bald guy.
“Forsooth! How uncommonly perceptive of thee. How didst thou know? Allow me to state the reason for my visitation. I am but a humble insect merchant of little renown who happens to be married to an individual of the human persuasion. I have documentation to prove my claim if required. As it so happens, I am in the market for several tadpoles and your house came highly recommended.”
The tired-looking bald man sighed. “Look, toad, that is the single worst cover story I have ever heard in my life. Just stop talking and come and take your kids. They’re in the house.”
Henimaru had not anticipated this turn in the conversation. “Praytell, why wouldst thou give up thy slaves so easily?”
The man shook his head. “I’ll be honest. The slave monger sold them to me at a steep discount. He said they were almost as good as elves. Instead, they hop around the house constantly, throw dirty laundry everywhere, jump on the bed while I’m sleeping, leave deposits of unidentifiable slime wherever they go, add ‘eth’ to every third vowel, and they won’t stop saying ‘thou’. I’ve tried getting rid of them, but they keep coming back. They won’t give me a moment’s peace. Please, Herimari or whatever your name is, just take them as far from me as possible.”
“So… thou wilt just giveth them to me without a fight? Verily?”
The man grabbed Henimaru’s collar. “I’m begging you. Just take them and leave.”
“And I won’t have to, uh...murder my way out of town to escapeth?”
The man flashed a hopeful smile. “I would very much prefer it if you didn’t.”
Henimaru hesitated before nodding. “I suppose thou art correct. That doth seem like the thing to do. It’s only…”
“Only what?”
“It just seems rather anticlimactic is all.”
“Not having to fight your way out of a city is anticlimactic?”
“Tis akin to a meaningless subplot in a book that fails to fit into the overarching narrative and eventually peters out, leaving the reader unfulfilled, without any semblance of closure.”
“But it doesn’t matter, because you’re getting what you want. Right?”
“Very well, though I art honestly disappointed by the rather pedestrian conclusion of this escapade. I hath been expecting an epic clash amidst the forces of good and evil. A story for bards and poets to regale the populace; truly a tale for the ages.”
“No, I’m afraid that all I can offer you is unconditional surrender. Please take your kids and go away.”
“Art thou certain thou wouldn’t prefereth a fight to the death?”
“Quite certain, yes.”
“How disappointing. Very well then. I’ll collect the tadpoles and we’ll be on our way.”
And that is the tale of how Henimaru was reunited with his lost children.
Chapter 20
Into Zhakara
Tasha met the path of Pollyanna’s rapier with her gunblade. Sparks flew where metal met the gunblade’s static surface. Pollyanna spun and withdrew beyond the reach of Tasha’s blade. The figment’s feet were splayed at right angles, the sword pointing straight at her. As usual, Pollyanna kept her left hand behind her back. Tasha tried to match Pollyanna’s footing, except she held her sword with both hands, so had to modify her form to deal with the difference.
Slimon and Hermes sat together on deck, sharing a tub of popcorn as they watched Tasha struggle to master the art of swashbuckling.
The figment jabbed at Tasha several times experimentally. Tasha batted her rapier out of the way and slashed, but Pollyanna backed out of reach.
“The way you’re standing is all wrong,” Pollyanna said. “Put more weight on your back foot so you can push against it when attacking.”
Tasha adjusted her stance. “Like this?”
The floor beneath her dipped and bobbed as turbulence hit the airship. Tasha staggered to the side, a mistake Pollyanna capitalized on. By the time she righted herself, Pollyanna’s rapier was at her throat.
Tasha lowered her gunblade in momentary capitulation. Sheathing her sword, Pollyanna said, “You must never take your eyes away from your opponent. Be aware of her every movement.”
“It’s not my fault this ship can’t fly straight.”
Pollyanna took a drink of her iced tea. “You’re saying it isn’t a fair battlefield?”
“It’s not. It’s hard to keep my balance.”
“We’ll have to work on that. Spend the next hour standing upside down on one hand. That should help with your balance stats.”
“Do I have to?”
Pollyanna nodded. “I want you to become completely at ease fighting on moving terrain.”
“But wouldn’t it be easier to fight on terrain that isn’t prone to turbulence?”
The figment took a seat on one of the wooden chairs. “It would be easier, which is why you shouldn’t do it. If you have a choice between fighting in an open field or on a rickety bridge over a pool of magma with spike traps all over the place, which would you choose?”
Tasha bent, put one hand on the deck, and raised her lower body into the air, balancing on one hand—an impossible feat for her to pull off in the real world. It wasn’t lost on her that as she was now, her body could outperform most professional athletes from Earth. How many couch potatoes could say that? “A choice between an open field or a bridge over lava? I’d choose the open field since there would be less to worry about.”
Pollyanna shook her head, “On your fingers, Tasha. I don’t want to see your palm touching the deck. And you’re wrong about which site would be better. You should pick the battlefield with the most chaos. A swashbuckler thrives on a chaotic battlefield. If you can keep your balance on the rickety bridge but your opponent can’t, you’ve already won the battle. All you have to do is stay standing longer than your opponent.”
The boat swayed from side to side, and Tasha lost her balance, barely keeping from tumbling. “That doesn’t feel like it would be a fair fight.”
Pollyanna nodded. “I should say not. Fighting dirty is part and parcel of a Swashbuckler’s technique. Use your environment as a weapon. Find ways to keep your opponent off balance and use her weaknesses against her. If you want to learn to fight fair, find a fencing instructor.”
“Tasha!” Pan called from the starboard railing. “Come quick!”
Tasha ran to her. “What is it?”
Pan pointed at the endless field of water beneath them. The girl had pushed her glasses to her forehead and held her wooden spyglass to one eye, gazing intently at something in the far distance.
Tasha squinted, but it was difficult to make anything out this far up. Pan handed her spyglass over, lowering her spectacles. The wooden telescoping spyglass was simple and had the word “Pan” engraved on the side. Tasha peered through it, looking where Pan pointed. It took her a moment to find it, but she made out a series of small dots on the horizon, each spaced far apart from one another in a grid formation.
“What are those things?” She pointed at the strange arrangement of dots. She handed the spyglass to Ari, who peered through it. “Ships. Dozens of ships. How peculiar to see ships this far into the bay. Aren’t they concerned about the dread fiend Blobby?”
Kegan approached the railings and equipped his own spyglass, the exterior of which was silver steel etched with intricate patterns. Elven spells had been written into the outer chamber of the spyglass, consisting of elven characters that glowed faintly blue. Tasha didn’t read elven, but she’d seen enough of it to recognize it at a glance. There were several switches on the eyepiece, though Tasha couldn’t guess to their purpose.
He expanded his spyglass and brought it to his eye. As he flipped one of the switches at the top, a circular display appeared in the air above it. Blue light traced the illusion’s circumference, surrounding a projection of what Kegan could see through the eyepiece. Numbers and elven letters appeared in the display, showing the angle and level of magnification, which was currently 5x.
As Kegan centered it on one of the ships, he turned the handle zooming in the display until it was at 15 times magnification.
Pan examined her own spyglass, then narrowed her eyes at Ari. “Why d…didn’t you get me one that can do that?”
Kegan zoomed the display back and scanned the entire fleet. “I count fourteen ships total. They’re mid-sized steam-powered vessels of Zhakaran make. I estimate they hold at least 400 troops each.” He produced a notebook and scribbled notes into it.
He turned to Captain K’her. “Can you take us closer to one of those ships? Lower your altitude too. I want to get a closer look.”
The captain said, “An’ why would ye think that I’d be of a mind to do any favors for ye? This has not to do with me obligation ta retrieve the princess. Twas the agreed-upon price. I’ve no obligation to ye or any mind ta do ye any kindness.”
“Damn you, dark elf. This could be a scouting group for an attack on your homeland. Do you truly care for nothing?”
“I care fer what’s mine, Kegan. I care for me ship, me crew, and whatever filthy lucre we amass.”
Kegan gnashed his teeth before producing a handful of coins and throwing them on the deck. “If money is all you care about, take this. 6000 GP, and all you have to do is do a close flyby of one of those ships.”
The captain bent to pick up the coins, then inspected them. After a contented sigh, he addressed the helmsman. “Mister Malarky, bring ‘er down to twelve-hundred feet and put us just above one of their ships.”
To Kegan, he said, “I’ll give ye five minutes, no more.”
Kegan frowned, but also nodded. “That’ll be enough.”
Tasha said, “Wait a minute, that’s too low. They’ll see us!”
Malarky shook his head. “We painted the ship’s underside blue to avoid detection. If anyone happens to look up, all they’ll see is a blue dot against a blue sky. And if they see us nonetheless, there’s not much they can do about it.”
The minutes passed until the targeted ship was below them. Kegan ran his spyglass over the ship. He captured several images that each appeared in their own illusionary window floating above the spyglass.
One of the pictures depicted a nautical chart with notes and figures superimposed.
Kazezu thought-spoke. Wait! There’s a dragon nearby. I can sense it.
Tasha said, “A dragon? Here? That doesn’t make sense.”
Kazezu moved to the side of the airship, which dipped slightly to one side in response to the rapid shifting of weight. He’s there, look! It’s Zabrelvamier, The Black Dragon!
Tasha looked. There, chained to the deck, was an immense black dragon partially concealed from the sun by a large white sheet.
They’ve bound him to the ship. We must rescue him.
“Can you speak to the dragon?” asked Ari.
He’s ignoring me. His mind feels strange, like that of an unthinking animal. Not like a dragon at all. His mind feels wrong somehow. They must have done something to him.
Kagan said, “I’m sorry, Kazezu, but there’s nothing we can do to help him. They outnumber us by a wide margin. We should assume they intend to use the black dragon in their assault.” He turned to K’her. “You may get us out of here now. I got what I wanted.”
“What have you figured out? Are they planning a raid on Brightwind?” Tasha asked.
“This close to Winter and with only fourteen ships and maybe two thousand fighters? I’d say not. Even if we assume they control the black dragon, it wouldn’t be enough to take down the capital. Their charts show them bound for Questgivria’s south-western peninsula, to the coastal town of Aberystwyth. It’s a small elven fishing town bordered by cliffs that has little economic value and only minimal defenses. I believe they plan to take Aberystwyth and use it to establish a beach-head, much the same as my mission in Zhakara.
“I’d guess they have at least one warp-capable time mage per ship. By the time winter is done, they’ll have warped in an entire army, positioning them to take southern Questgivria, one city at a time.”
“But what about Blobby? I thought ships couldn’t safely cross the bay.”
“That’s why their ships are spaced so distantly from one another. The dread fiend can’t be in twelve places at once. If he sinks one of their ships, the rest would scatter and escape. They’re all powered by steam and travel quickly. I think they’re hoping at least one or two survives to complete the journey. They’ll capture the city, fortify it, then enslave the population.”
Tasha frowned. “She’s sacrificing her own ships and people so a few can make it into position.”
He nodded. “That seems likely. This is a new strategy, but I wouldn’t put it past her.”
Ari said, “Now that you know, what will you do? Warp back to Brightwind? If you tell the king about the fleet, he might have time to evacuate the city before they arrive. You could save hundreds of civilians from slavery.”
Kegan paced several times before shaking his head. “If any survive, those ships will reach Aberystwyth in less than a week. Aberystwyth is so remote that reinforcements would never arrive in time. Aberystwyth is already lost.”
