The rest of that day passed, more or less, in peace. Joldir and his partner, Seralin stopped by on several occasions to check in, ostensibly to openly spy on them.
They did nothing more nefarious than to slightly overcharge for scrimshaw, which, Joldir had to admit, were of a reasonable enough quality that he considered getting one for his somewhat obvious fellow guard to let her know her interests were returned. Other than that, they made for the near-perfect image of a nomadic tribesman fresh from the wilds hawking his goods under the watchful eye of a hired local scout. That the man was clearly using a blanket as a covering for his upper body, with most of his lower legs exposed to the brisk air, without indication that he felt the Wintery chill, only added to the veracity of their claims. Those northern tribes were said to be fairly robust against the colder climates that close to the Endless White, the sub-arctic tundra and coniferous wastes.
Ulric, for his part, did not actually mind the cold too much. His body had adjusted to the cooler air within half an hour and he was fairly radiating heat now. It was when he went indoors, and roasted, that he was going to be truly uncomfortable.
They sold out most all of their stock, by virtue of it being near the end of the long, five-month, Winter and some folks were running a little lean on supplies or just wanting to taste fresh game. The fur went quickly and Ulric decided to hold just a little back, enough to help line the cloaks they would need made. He had great respect for the toughness of the howling beast's fur, given that it had shed a massive amount of energy from Taipan's bow, Blinder, not quite deflecting arrows but making their penetration drastically reduced without a direct hit into the face of the dense pelt.
The bones went easily as well, having use in various ornaments, handles, and carvings for tools or weapons, needles, fish hooks, and the like; Taipan was not the only engraver of bone in the place.
The only things that remained were the uncarved teeth and claws, on account of Taipan wanted those to work on of an evening. She had begun to remember the enjoyment of a relaxed spell of peaceful artistry. Anything that destressed his Shadow was to the good, having her on a knife edge all of the time would be detrimental in the long term. And they were, for better and worse, in it together for the long term.
With the Twins about midway through their descent and shadows lengthening through the quaint village, Ulric and Taipan packed up their shelter-shop and made way towards the Tailor. The gruff horse thief of a craftsman gave a start when he saw Taipan, as well he should, and another when he saw the Lichtenburg scars tracing Ulric's own hide, since he'd decided to forego the blanket indoors. In this, his Shadow had been more than correct, if his scars suggested that some yokel should find something better to do than harass the strange folk then he was happy to wear them openly.
She went on to share with him one of the traditions of the Valin barbarian tribes, namely, ritual scarring. Mostly, it was a thing done by some of the more notoriously aggressive tribes and the more extensive the scrollwork on flesh, the greater was their standing in those lands. Ulric would have passed for a man with a fearsome reputation amongst those peoples. Of course, when one of their actual warlords found out someone was mocking their tribe's customs, that one would have ridden across the tundra with his entire clan at his back to skin them or, at the very least, test the one who made such a claim in their people's custom.
The tailor, likewise, was not aware of that, this being the back end of nowhere in the Elven Low lands forests, but he didn't want to insult paying customers any more than was necessary to part them from as much coin as possible. Especially when one was a Hunter from those notoriously surly Deep Woods cousins and the other had survived whatever did that to him. If he'd done it to himself, even more reason to avoid an offense, the man was barking.
What followed was a very matter of fact, efficient fitting, and a heavily accented declaration that he'd have the order filled in three days, the both of them being too tall to refit anything and requiring him to make to specification.
They settled on the price easily, at least from Ulric's perspective. Taipan led that charge and demonstrated, once again, that she could haggle a person down to their teeth and make them feel grateful for it.
Back outside, the reds and oranges and purples of sunset were starting to unfold.
"What do you think? Supper?" Ulric offered his Shadow.
She agreed readily and they strolled deliberately through the sleepy little village back to their inn. It was a picturesque place, with its stone foundations, its rough-cut timber walls, fogged glass windows, and clay-tiled roof. The rest of the village shared this theme, just writ smaller. The inn was the only three-storied structure to be found within the palisade wall and only a handful of particularly successful businesses boasted two stories.
The inside was as warm and cozy as he remembered from this morning. A clean smell, like dried cedar, filled his nostrils, accompanied by the savory scents drifting from the kitchens. He soaked it in, the lavish smells a reason for rejoicing after the walloping their olfactory senses had taken the previous day. It had been most of the last thirty hours but without being able to taste as fully as he should and to smell nearly not at all, even absent the musk's stench.
Shuffles of feet, the clink of mugs against the varnished hardwood table tops, and the omnipresent murmurs of hushed conversations filled the room. This was the "rush hour" for the inn, which doubled as a restaurant for the villagers. A hard day's work was rewarded with a cheap, rich meal, prepared by a practiced cook and a warm place to share that meal with their friends. It had the sort of vibe of a hole in the wall pub, Ulric's favorite places to go to find a drink, back before he'd gone completely off of people.
If a few more eyes followed them than the previous day he couldn't tell the difference. Certainly, nobody tried to bother either he or his travel mate at any point.
The custom of eating in silence did not transfer to these Elves, that must have been a particularity of the Deep Woods folk. These Lowlands forest peoples chatted happily, if quietly, amongst each other throughout the meal. They spoke with their hands, but not to the extent of those he'd observed in the fortress, who at times carried half the conversation, sometimes the important half, in sign and gesture. All told, it was a people watching haven was the inn's common room. Except for the trouble with the caravan guards, the Celestin were striking him as much more laid back, less intense, than their Iriel'en cousins.
When Ulric shared that observation with his partner, she agreed, noting "None of the other tribes of the Orlethrem are as driven to the militaristic traditions as those of Iriel. We are the final line in the forest, the Heartwood of Orlethrem. Our traditions reach back the farthest, back to the initial descent from the [Plateau of Ancients]. To preserve that which much not be tainted we must be harder than our neighbors." She said, without contempt for her cousins.
"They are soft because they are allowed to be. When needs arise they will show their mettle, though it will not be with the same depth as my own kin." Taipan concluded.
Fascinating. He was a little surprised that he'd been welcomed in Irielhos as he had been, given their reclusive habits and general disdain for Otherkin. None of that had been directed towards him, except from this dusky beauty herself, back before when she still laid her every personal grudge at his feet.
"Why was it that the only person in the entire fortress who hated Humans so blatantly was you Taipan?" He asked.
She only took a moment before answering, "You bought their tolerance by returning Heir Lumyt'seit to them. Had you merely stumbled into the Deep Wood forests and been met by a scout ranging about on patrol, had they not killed you immediately, they would have bundled you in a sack and dragged you to the border to hang from a tree. There you would stay, until someone cut you down before you died from thirst...Or not, but that would not have been the scout's problem." She said, seriously.
"And, when you met Father, you showed courage and did not flinch before him, which earned you some respect, especially when you were willing to trade barbs with him. Later still, my brother told of your acts in saving him from those who had him and against the [Golden Heckler Monkey] troop, which cemented in their minds that you were not of the cowardly ilk with whom they had been told comprised most of Prespang's Humans. When you actually took seriously your instruction, it settled things for most. The good word of the royal guardsmen went far towards the others accepting your presence, especially Idra, who said aloud that you were 'An ignorant youth but of a good sort, if we raise him correctly'."
That was a hell of a kindness then. Truly, he owed these people much. They'd sort of taken him under their wings, when they easily could have chosen to reject his presence on principle and history.
"And yourself?" He asked, willing to test those waters.
"All Humans looked like the ones who murdered my brother and it was only a matter of time before you showed your true colors, so that I could slay you. I thought it was Father's real intention, to place me close enough to keep watch on you and destroy you should you prove false." She said, admitting the not quite open secret between them.
Taipan's eyes narrowed, though not towards him, she must have come to a realization. Sure enough, she muttered "crafty old goat" before explaining herself.
"Which may actually have, in fact, been one of his primary purposes in the entire thing, aside from finally having reason to pull me from the front lines. Never think my Father Bald’rt simple, Ulric, even for how he carries on. While he does not care to give his attention to small niceties, he is entirely capable of casting a web of strategies to catch any who might mean harm and ensure their destruction. It is his purpose in life." The Huntress warned him.
It was not a bad thing, to be reminded that while Vedyr was openly threatening and clearly the one from whom his Shadow had inherited many of her mannerisms, it was her father, who was feared for his wrath. No pointy-eared Humans these and he would do well to keep it in mind, especially now that he had some of their scariest as the In-Laws.
Ulric gave his Shadow a thumbs up.
"Roger Taipan, this one hears and understands. I had my suspicions about there being wheels inside of wheels. Honestly, given that any one of about a score of your folk could pretty easily see to it I didn't live to see tomorrow, I never saw the point of worrying about it." He told her in return.
"I had no idea what I was getting myself into bringing Brighteyes home. In my stupid brain, I was just taking some lost rich kid home to see his parents. All the rest? Never saw it coming."
His Shadow patted his thigh comfortingly. "No one sees an Iriel'en coming, Ulric, especially not me. The good news is that you have lived through the experience, for now."
He finished his beer with a deep gulp and wondered how her trying to be nice could sound so close to a threat.
"Welp." Ulric slapped his thigh, "I think it's about time I take you upstairs and legal wife you, Taipan." He announced quietly.
Her grin was near enough as good a reward for her agreement as what followed. Okay, maybe not, but it was nice to get her to smile, that much was true. Taipan took his arm with hers and walked him up the stairs, leaning in close to whisper, "I think not Ulric; tonight, I am going to be legal husbanding you. Loudly."
*******************
Two more days they stayed in the village. Their supplies they were unable to restock, the village was itself awaiting the trade season, the end of Winter acted like a held breath on the Orlethrem. Come spring, its exhalation would bring dynamic life. Since they had no more goods of great value, the Alchemist having made away with their cores and the villagers having already picked through the items they wanted from the spoils of the monsters encountered on their way, which Ulric struggled to remind himself was only about a week and a half since they'd left Irielhos, they opened the shop in the mornings to sell Taipan's carved charms for modest sums. Their afternoons were free and they took the opportunity to roam the forests around Seinajok, mostly because his Shadow/Wife grew bored staying inside the walls of the village.
His Hunter counterpart despaired of ever teaching him to move without making noise but unbeknownst to her, what he was really doing was training his [Ceraunoperception] to pick up her signature as she navigated the woods. His sensitivity was increasing rapidly, the inputs across his skin starting to assemble into a more logical approximation of the environment. Certain parts of it, at least. If he closed his eyes, it was as if he saw a grainy static into which the edges of more conductive things had a dense white signature against the pixelated background. Something living, like his partner, stood out in a loud relief. Ulric liked to imagine this was rather similar to reading braille, but with all of you instead of just your finger.
When the spell's rank increased on the second afternoon, he was able to pick up a significantly better range, his brain adapting to the signals through exposure. Instead of his near point-blank five-meter range, he could now get a more or less precise feel for living things up to about twenty meters out. Not enough to have helped against the [Netting Monkeys], as he had dubbed them, nor the Ravager, but it would have served well against the [Bloodstarves] and any heads up that bullshit was inbound was most certainly to the good.
He still lacked the ability to resolve well any substances that had particularly poor conductivity. That dead vine trip wire would still have tripped him. He was starting to think it would require some sort of mental filtration, like, resolving those objects would require comparing them to the other objects he could pick up. It made his brain throb and he quickly abandoned that concept, it was simply too difficult. Better to improve the fidelity for what his spell was telling him than force it to do what it wasn't really designed to do. If he wanted true imaging, he'd have to refine this sense into some kind of pulsed radar. A sort of working theory for that was available to him but it would be a project for another time, when he could sit for a few weeks and hammer it out.
"Damnit Ulric, step with the ball of your foot and roll it down gently!" Taipan cursed at him, when an errant foot made frozen leaves crackle loudly.
She stomped over, deliberately loudly to mock his noise, and then, just as quickly walked away without a sound. He could sort of see the difference in what her feet were doing, and he might be able to do it if he went at a snail's pace. To do it as she did? At speed? Nope. He'd have to retrain his cerebellum, it was an entirely different gait, with a different balance.
"Sorry Taipan, but I'm not going to be able to do it in the near future, no matter how many times you show me." He admitted to her, not ashamed at all.
"It's not a matter of knowing what to do, it's a matter of getting my body to do it without my having to dedicate my entire attention to the operation. I can be quiet, and, effectively, blind. And friggin slow. Your body just does it now, mine is relearning to walk. It's enough that I am starting to get this whole using your fighting stances while moving normally thing down."
That had been a piece of advice from Idra'se, the master combat instructor for the Royal guards, Christ, Idra'se's young protégé and Ulric's sparring partner, and Taipan, a talented Hunter. Ulric had been trying, but it took concentration. Results came only gradually. The Swordmaster of Iriel had not been kidding around when he said Ulric had to relearn to walk.
Ahh, well, throw it on the pile, Ulric had balls in the air.
"Anyway, that's enough of your torture, Taipan. I have something to show you now!" Ulric announced proudly.
She lowered her brows at him, skepticism plainly embedded into her features.
"What now are you going to do to try to kill us both?" She asked.
The lady wouldn't let him live down that [Overcharged] [Stormfire] that had exploded next to them.
Waving his hands, he put her at ease.
"Nothing like that!" Ulric claimed eagerly wanting to show her the progress, "It's for detection purposes. I can find you by your electromagnetic signature, and sort of see without needing daylight, roughly. It only really works if there's a lot of water in the things that I'm trying to see though so I've got a few bugs to work out."
Ulric let the Ceraun in his core ramp up, increasing the power that he'd used up until then. He was starting to figure out that mana scaled aggressively, small quantities not precisely doing the same thing as large ones. His initial spells hadn't really cared about that, more was better. For the more complex things though, it was possible to overexert yourself magically, to produce an unintended effect. That was mostly how [Stormfire] had come into existence in the first place.
As such, he cast the [Ceraunoperception] and used the soft regular pulses as a benchmark. To his skin, the usual disturbing crawling pressure of sensory appeared. His Shadow, standing close to him, lit like a torch to his senses. Gently he increased the mana expenditure of the pulses, and, immediately, the crude image he was generating in his mind sharpened, edges becoming more distinct. He now had a rather precise outline of Taipan's figure, along with the nearby vegetation. The snow proved a somewhat confounding signature, a sort of washout effect that he had to tamp down, to mentally filter out, like ignoring the sound of a busy street as you listen to music.
With gradual increase in output, still nothing compared to his offensive spellwork, he extended his senses to envelope the area around them. He had to close his eyes to get a better feel for the wild array of information bleeding into his senses. There! He located what had to be rabbits burrowed deep beneath the snow.
Pointing to his four o'clock and low he announced, "Burrowed rabbit-like creatures, three of them, in a den about a meter below the surface of the ground."
Turning, he pointed upwards, towards the outer range of his perception, "And right there, a nest of those bastard squirrel things. Two, with a litter of three kits."
The benefit of this spell is that it wasn't blocked by objects that it didn't pick up, they just remained invisible. He could see through walls. And clothes. Hidden weapons, hidden limbs, anything like that, it couldn't hide from his magical electro perception. He was like an electric eel. This close, he could see the beat of Taipan's heart, the regular pulsing of bioelectric signals operating that muscle pump.
"Hoooly shiiit. You wouldn't believe how weird this is Taipan. It's like being blind and finding out you just had to take off the black goggles." He said, excitement loud in his voice.
"That is wonderful Ulric," Taipan congratulated, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder, "but, whatever you are doing, it is making my skin crawl so, please, stop it."
Eh? He looked over at the soft Persian skin of his Shadow and saw the raised gooseflesh along the entire length of her exposed flesh. Hairless, he might add, Elves didn’t grow hair other than on their heads and, once old enough, their faces.
"Oh. Oh! You mean you can feel it?" He asked, oblivious in his enthusiasm.
"My skin is like being covered in ants, Ulric, yes, I can feel it."
Probably excess charge causing a static build-up. Maybe he could just increase the frequency of the pulses and drop the amplitude, sort of build the image through its repetition. Hmm…slower resolution, it would take more pulses to generate the same level of input, but each would be less demanding on him and maybe wouldn't be as obvious. If someone knew what he was doing, a cloud of steam or vapor would, very effectively, blind this ability, at least temporarily. There might be ways to spoof it too, against someone who could use Ceraun to pulse as he was, that would be really loud to this sense. Even so, let's try.
Ulric made the adjustment, reducing the strength of the pulses. Immediately the somewhat crisp outlines of leaves, branches, water laden roots dimmed and his Shadow's outline blurred. He concentrated on increasing how rapidly his core pulsed and the image began to resharpen.
Fuck this is cool, Ulric told himself. Magic is so much godsbedamned cheating.
"How now, Taipan?" He checked, looking at her.
The gooseflesh was gone, yes, good.
"It is better now. There is…almost a vague itch, but I would not notice it were I not looking for such things."
"NAILED IT!!" Ulric yelled, before grabbing up his partner and whirling her around, ignoring the squawk she released.
"Ah! Put me down! You are a gifted wizardling, I get it, now stop swinging me around." She complained but not harshly.
Since she had declared his greatness aloud, he deigned to replace her upon the ground.
Grinning, Ulric summoned his status, the first time he had done so in a long while. It had undergone some fairly crucial changes, though most were subtle in their effects.
[Status]
His dexterity at a baseline had increased, the mark of months of dedicated practice in the Elven footwork and in sparring with his betters. It was his classes though that were proving more interesting.
He hadn’t known when, probably in the middle of one of the more intense struggles in recent history, but his classes had changed slightly. He had a trait from his Elementalist class that explained much about why his magic was being all kinds of fucky and he had a feeling that he knew why the scars had shimmered while he was Raging, and how he’d taken comparatively little damage for how many opponents he’d faced in the common room brawl. Synergism was passively boosting his mana’s tendency to interact optimally in its different forms. That mostly explained the odd arcing chains between those [Wind Blades] and the fact that the [Overcharged], but thoroughly Ceraun contaminated [Flame Crash] hadn’t just poofed into randomly ionized static but had produced an exceedingly potent new spellform.
His magic was starting to compensate for his core’s evolution. At last. It would help greatly until he could master his core’s innate Ceraunic nature, at least the interactions of mana would be, mostly, bent towards a favorable outcome. An Akashic helping hand, that was.
[Surge] was different, this was an active ability, the first he’d gotten since [Battle Rhythm]. He could concentrate and effectively burn his core’s reserves of mana to heighten his body’s physical parameters. So, sort of a magical adrenaline, on top of the natural juice. He’d have to be careful with that, he could imagine very quickly beating the shit out of his own neuromuscular systems and muscle attachments with such an ability. Especially if it happened when he wasn’t in control of himself, like earlier.
That might be a little spooky.
It was gratifying to see how his spell list was coming along. He’d accumulated a pretty diverse repertoire, and now had a sensory type spell to go along with his offensive and defensive spellforms. Instructor Gother, damn his dry bones, was a Wizard in truth. Ulric had grown much under that aged Elf’s tutelage. But enough gloating.
Now, it was passed time to be continuing the journey. They returned to the village, it not quite being noon, determined to be on their way. Trachn’ir was not so far away, but they’d not reach it in time to get through the checkpoint at the gate before nightfall, even in this season. Taipan estimated that, even now, there would be enough traffic through the Southern trade hub of Celestin to warrant approaching in the morning hours. Late arrivals would draw attention and they’d already done too much of that.
Joldir, the canny guardsman who had kept to his word and held them under watch since they'd entered the village, stood at the same gate, alongside his partner Seralin, who, Ulric noted, wore the charm her senior had purchased from Taipan the day before.
"Go now in peace, Trader, and I wish you luck. Perhaps do not stray too deep into the wilds lest you be covered anew in foul stink." Joked the guard.
Ulric inclined his head, "My thanks for your advice, Guardsman, and for the hospitality of your village. I do not regret this detour." He returned politely.
It had been a fun little stay, after all was said and done. He and Taipan were dressed in their newly completed traveling gear, more akin to the common wear of the village locals, at Ulric's insistence.
Taipan had chosen not to indulge in the local fashion of adopting a kilt though, preferring her closer fitting pants, the spoilsport.
Their overcoats though were lined with the fur of the creature that had sent them to this out of the way little village and proved every bit up to the challenge of shedding the Winter's fading bite.
Waving, the pair departed the village and made way at a steady if somewhat sedate pace.
Seralin turned to her partner, "There will be no peace where those two are concerned, will there." She stated, more than asked.
Joldir met her eyes and nodded once. "None. They carry anarchy in their pockets. They are fine enough folk, but I am glad that they leave before any more of their fate finds them here." He uttered with relief.
The rest of that day passed, more or less, in peace. Joldir and his partner, Seralin stopped by on several occasions to check in, ostensibly to openly spy on them.
They did nothing more nefarious than to slightly overcharge for scrimshaw, which, Joldir had to admit, were of a reasonable enough quality that he considered getting one for his somewhat obvious fellow guard to let her know her interests were returned. Other than that, they made for the near-perfect image of a nomadic tribesman fresh from the wilds hawking his goods under the watchful eye of a hired local scout. That the man was clearly using a blanket as a covering for his upper body, with most of his lower legs exposed to the brisk air, without indication that he felt the Wintery chill, only added to the veracity of their claims. Those northern tribes were said to be fairly robust against the colder climates that close to the Endless White, the sub-arctic tundra and coniferous wastes.
Ulric, for his part, did not actually mind the cold too much. His body had adjusted to the cooler air within half an hour and he was fairly radiating heat now. It was when he went indoors, and roasted, that he was going to be truly uncomfortable.
They sold out most all of their stock, by virtue of it being near the end of the long, five-month, Winter and some folks were running a little lean on supplies or just wanting to taste fresh game. The fur went quickly and Ulric decided to hold just a little back, enough to help line the cloaks they would need made. He had great respect for the toughness of the howling beast's fur, given that it had shed a massive amount of energy from Taipan's bow, Blinder, not quite deflecting arrows but making their penetration drastically reduced without a direct hit into the face of the dense pelt.
The bones went easily as well, having use in various ornaments, handles, and carvings for tools or weapons, needles, fish hooks, and the like; Taipan was not the only engraver of bone in the place.
The only things that remained were the uncarved teeth and claws, on account of Taipan wanted those to work on of an evening. She had begun to remember the enjoyment of a relaxed spell of peaceful artistry. Anything that destressed his Shadow was to the good, having her on a knife edge all of the time would be detrimental in the long term. And they were, for better and worse, in it together for the long term.
With the Twins about midway through their descent and shadows lengthening through the quaint village, Ulric and Taipan packed up their shelter-shop and made way towards the Tailor. The gruff horse thief of a craftsman gave a start when he saw Taipan, as well he should, and another when he saw the Lichtenburg scars tracing Ulric's own hide, since he'd decided to forego the blanket indoors. In this, his Shadow had been more than correct, if his scars suggested that some yokel should find something better to do than harass the strange folk then he was happy to wear them openly.
She went on to share with him one of the traditions of the Valin barbarian tribes, namely, ritual scarring. Mostly, it was a thing done by some of the more notoriously aggressive tribes and the more extensive the scrollwork on flesh, the greater was their standing in those lands. Ulric would have passed for a man with a fearsome reputation amongst those peoples. Of course, when one of their actual warlords found out someone was mocking their tribe's customs, that one would have ridden across the tundra with his entire clan at his back to skin them or, at the very least, test the one who made such a claim in their people's custom.
The tailor, likewise, was not aware of that, this being the back end of nowhere in the Elven Low lands forests, but he didn't want to insult paying customers any more than was necessary to part them from as much coin as possible. Especially when one was a Hunter from those notoriously surly Deep Woods cousins and the other had survived whatever did that to him. If he'd done it to himself, even more reason to avoid an offense, the man was barking.
What followed was a very matter of fact, efficient fitting, and a heavily accented declaration that he'd have the order filled in three days, the both of them being too tall to refit anything and requiring him to make to specification.
They settled on the price easily, at least from Ulric's perspective. Taipan led that charge and demonstrated, once again, that she could haggle a person down to their teeth and make them feel grateful for it.
Back outside, the reds and oranges and purples of sunset were starting to unfold.
"What do you think? Supper?" Ulric offered his Shadow.
She agreed readily and they strolled deliberately through the sleepy little village back to their inn. It was a picturesque place, with its stone foundations, its rough-cut timber walls, fogged glass windows, and clay-tiled roof. The rest of the village shared this theme, just writ smaller. The inn was the only three-storied structure to be found within the palisade wall and only a handful of particularly successful businesses boasted two stories.
The inside was as warm and cozy as he remembered from this morning. A clean smell, like dried cedar, filled his nostrils, accompanied by the savory scents drifting from the kitchens. He soaked it in, the lavish smells a reason for rejoicing after the walloping their olfactory senses had taken the previous day. It had been most of the last thirty hours but without being able to taste as fully as he should and to smell nearly not at all, even absent the musk's stench.
Shuffles of feet, the clink of mugs against the varnished hardwood table tops, and the omnipresent murmurs of hushed conversations filled the room. This was the "rush hour" for the inn, which doubled as a restaurant for the villagers. A hard day's work was rewarded with a cheap, rich meal, prepared by a practiced cook and a warm place to share that meal with their friends. It had the sort of vibe of a hole in the wall pub, Ulric's favorite places to go to find a drink, back before he'd gone completely off of people.
If a few more eyes followed them than the previous day he couldn't tell the difference. Certainly, nobody tried to bother either he or his travel mate at any point.
The custom of eating in silence did not transfer to these Elves, that must have been a particularity of the Deep Woods folk. These Lowlands forest peoples chatted happily, if quietly, amongst each other throughout the meal. They spoke with their hands, but not to the extent of those he'd observed in the fortress, who at times carried half the conversation, sometimes the important half, in sign and gesture. All told, it was a people watching haven was the inn's common room. Except for the trouble with the caravan guards, the Celestin were striking him as much more laid back, less intense, than their Iriel'en cousins.
When Ulric shared that observation with his partner, she agreed, noting "None of the other tribes of the Orlethrem are as driven to the militaristic traditions as those of Iriel. We are the final line in the forest, the Heartwood of Orlethrem. Our traditions reach back the farthest, back to the initial descent from the [Plateau of Ancients]. To preserve that which much not be tainted we must be harder than our neighbors." She said, without contempt for her cousins.
"They are soft because they are allowed to be. When needs arise they will show their mettle, though it will not be with the same depth as my own kin." Taipan concluded.
Fascinating. He was a little surprised that he'd been welcomed in Irielhos as he had been, given their reclusive habits and general disdain for Otherkin. None of that had been directed towards him, except from this dusky beauty herself, back before when she still laid her every personal grudge at his feet.
"Why was it that the only person in the entire fortress who hated Humans so blatantly was you Taipan?" He asked.
She only took a moment before answering, "You bought their tolerance by returning Heir Lumyt'seit to them. Had you merely stumbled into the Deep Wood forests and been met by a scout ranging about on patrol, had they not killed you immediately, they would have bundled you in a sack and dragged you to the border to hang from a tree. There you would stay, until someone cut you down before you died from thirst...Or not, but that would not have been the scout's problem." She said, seriously.
"And, when you met Father, you showed courage and did not flinch before him, which earned you some respect, especially when you were willing to trade barbs with him. Later still, my brother told of your acts in saving him from those who had him and against the [Golden Heckler Monkey] troop, which cemented in their minds that you were not of the cowardly ilk with whom they had been told comprised most of Prespang's Humans. When you actually took seriously your instruction, it settled things for most. The good word of the royal guardsmen went far towards the others accepting your presence, especially Idra, who said aloud that you were 'An ignorant youth but of a good sort, if we raise him correctly'."
That was a hell of a kindness then. Truly, he owed these people much. They'd sort of taken him under their wings, when they easily could have chosen to reject his presence on principle and history.
"And yourself?" He asked, willing to test those waters.
"All Humans looked like the ones who murdered my brother and it was only a matter of time before you showed your true colors, so that I could slay you. I thought it was Father's real intention, to place me close enough to keep watch on you and destroy you should you prove false." She said, admitting the not quite open secret between them.
Taipan's eyes narrowed, though not towards him, she must have come to a realization. Sure enough, she muttered "crafty old goat" before explaining herself.
"Which may actually have, in fact, been one of his primary purposes in the entire thing, aside from finally having reason to pull me from the front lines. Never think my Father Bald’rt simple, Ulric, even for how he carries on. While he does not care to give his attention to small niceties, he is entirely capable of casting a web of strategies to catch any who might mean harm and ensure their destruction. It is his purpose in life." The Huntress warned him.
It was not a bad thing, to be reminded that while Vedyr was openly threatening and clearly the one from whom his Shadow had inherited many of her mannerisms, it was her father, who was feared for his wrath. No pointy-eared Humans these and he would do well to keep it in mind, especially now that he had some of their scariest as the In-Laws.
Ulric gave his Shadow a thumbs up.
"Roger Taipan, this one hears and understands. I had my suspicions about there being wheels inside of wheels. Honestly, given that any one of about a score of your folk could pretty easily see to it I didn't live to see tomorrow, I never saw the point of worrying about it." He told her in return.
"I had no idea what I was getting myself into bringing Brighteyes home. In my stupid brain, I was just taking some lost rich kid home to see his parents. All the rest? Never saw it coming."
His Shadow patted his thigh comfortingly. "No one sees an Iriel'en coming, Ulric, especially not me. The good news is that you have lived through the experience, for now."
He finished his beer with a deep gulp and wondered how her trying to be nice could sound so close to a threat.
"Welp." Ulric slapped his thigh, "I think it's about time I take you upstairs and legal wife you, Taipan." He announced quietly.
Her grin was near enough as good a reward for her agreement as what followed. Okay, maybe not, but it was nice to get her to smile, that much was true. Taipan took his arm with hers and walked him up the stairs, leaning in close to whisper, "I think not Ulric; tonight, I am going to be legal husbanding you. Loudly."
*******************
Two more days they stayed in the village. Their supplies they were unable to restock, the village was itself awaiting the trade season, the end of Winter acted like a held breath on the Orlethrem. Come spring, its exhalation would bring dynamic life. Since they had no more goods of great value, the Alchemist having made away with their cores and the villagers having already picked through the items they wanted from the spoils of the monsters encountered on their way, which Ulric struggled to remind himself was only about a week and a half since they'd left Irielhos, they opened the shop in the mornings to sell Taipan's carved charms for modest sums. Their afternoons were free and they took the opportunity to roam the forests around Seinajok, mostly because his Shadow/Wife grew bored staying inside the walls of the village.
His Hunter counterpart despaired of ever teaching him to move without making noise but unbeknownst to her, what he was really doing was training his [Ceraunoperception] to pick up her signature as she navigated the woods. His sensitivity was increasing rapidly, the inputs across his skin starting to assemble into a more logical approximation of the environment. Certain parts of it, at least. If he closed his eyes, it was as if he saw a grainy static into which the edges of more conductive things had a dense white signature against the pixelated background. Something living, like his partner, stood out in a loud relief. Ulric liked to imagine this was rather similar to reading braille, but with all of you instead of just your finger.
When the spell's rank increased on the second afternoon, he was able to pick up a significantly better range, his brain adapting to the signals through exposure. Instead of his near point-blank five-meter range, he could now get a more or less precise feel for living things up to about twenty meters out. Not enough to have helped against the [Netting Monkeys], as he had dubbed them, nor the Ravager, but it would have served well against the [Bloodstarves] and any heads up that bullshit was inbound was most certainly to the good.
He still lacked the ability to resolve well any substances that had particularly poor conductivity. That dead vine trip wire would still have tripped him. He was starting to think it would require some sort of mental filtration, like, resolving those objects would require comparing them to the other objects he could pick up. It made his brain throb and he quickly abandoned that concept, it was simply too difficult. Better to improve the fidelity for what his spell was telling him than force it to do what it wasn't really designed to do. If he wanted true imaging, he'd have to refine this sense into some kind of pulsed radar. A sort of working theory for that was available to him but it would be a project for another time, when he could sit for a few weeks and hammer it out.
"Damnit Ulric, step with the ball of your foot and roll it down gently!" Taipan cursed at him, when an errant foot made frozen leaves crackle loudly.
She stomped over, deliberately loudly to mock his noise, and then, just as quickly walked away without a sound. He could sort of see the difference in what her feet were doing, and he might be able to do it if he went at a snail's pace. To do it as she did? At speed? Nope. He'd have to retrain his cerebellum, it was an entirely different gait, with a different balance.
"Sorry Taipan, but I'm not going to be able to do it in the near future, no matter how many times you show me." He admitted to her, not ashamed at all.
"It's not a matter of knowing what to do, it's a matter of getting my body to do it without my having to dedicate my entire attention to the operation. I can be quiet, and, effectively, blind. And friggin slow. Your body just does it now, mine is relearning to walk. It's enough that I am starting to get this whole using your fighting stances while moving normally thing down."
That had been a piece of advice from Idra'se, the master combat instructor for the Royal guards, Christ, Idra'se's young protégé and Ulric's sparring partner, and Taipan, a talented Hunter. Ulric had been trying, but it took concentration. Results came only gradually. The Swordmaster of Iriel had not been kidding around when he said Ulric had to relearn to walk.
Ahh, well, throw it on the pile, Ulric had balls in the air.
"Anyway, that's enough of your torture, Taipan. I have something to show you now!" Ulric announced proudly.
She lowered her brows at him, skepticism plainly embedded into her features.
"What now are you going to do to try to kill us both?" She asked.
The lady wouldn't let him live down that [Overcharged] [Stormfire] that had exploded next to them.
Waving his hands, he put her at ease.
"Nothing like that!" Ulric claimed eagerly wanting to show her the progress, "It's for detection purposes. I can find you by your electromagnetic signature, and sort of see without needing daylight, roughly. It only really works if there's a lot of water in the things that I'm trying to see though so I've got a few bugs to work out."
Ulric let the Ceraun in his core ramp up, increasing the power that he'd used up until then. He was starting to figure out that mana scaled aggressively, small quantities not precisely doing the same thing as large ones. His initial spells hadn't really cared about that, more was better. For the more complex things though, it was possible to overexert yourself magically, to produce an unintended effect. That was mostly how [Stormfire] had come into existence in the first place.
As such, he cast the [Ceraunoperception] and used the soft regular pulses as a benchmark. To his skin, the usual disturbing crawling pressure of sensory appeared. His Shadow, standing close to him, lit like a torch to his senses. Gently he increased the mana expenditure of the pulses, and, immediately, the crude image he was generating in his mind sharpened, edges becoming more distinct. He now had a rather precise outline of Taipan's figure, along with the nearby vegetation. The snow proved a somewhat confounding signature, a sort of washout effect that he had to tamp down, to mentally filter out, like ignoring the sound of a busy street as you listen to music.
With gradual increase in output, still nothing compared to his offensive spellwork, he extended his senses to envelope the area around them. He had to close his eyes to get a better feel for the wild array of information bleeding into his senses. There! He located what had to be rabbits burrowed deep beneath the snow.
Pointing to his four o'clock and low he announced, "Burrowed rabbit-like creatures, three of them, in a den about a meter below the surface of the ground."
Turning, he pointed upwards, towards the outer range of his perception, "And right there, a nest of those bastard squirrel things. Two, with a litter of three kits."
The benefit of this spell is that it wasn't blocked by objects that it didn't pick up, they just remained invisible. He could see through walls. And clothes. Hidden weapons, hidden limbs, anything like that, it couldn't hide from his magical electro perception. He was like an electric eel. This close, he could see the beat of Taipan's heart, the regular pulsing of bioelectric signals operating that muscle pump.
"Hoooly shiiit. You wouldn't believe how weird this is Taipan. It's like being blind and finding out you just had to take off the black goggles." He said, excitement loud in his voice.
"That is wonderful Ulric," Taipan congratulated, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder, "but, whatever you are doing, it is making my skin crawl so, please, stop it."
Eh? He looked over at the soft Persian skin of his Shadow and saw the raised gooseflesh along the entire length of her exposed flesh. Hairless, he might add, Elves didn’t grow hair other than on their heads and, once old enough, their faces.
"Oh. Oh! You mean you can feel it?" He asked, oblivious in his enthusiasm.
"My skin is like being covered in ants, Ulric, yes, I can feel it."
Probably excess charge causing a static build-up. Maybe he could just increase the frequency of the pulses and drop the amplitude, sort of build the image through its repetition. Hmm…slower resolution, it would take more pulses to generate the same level of input, but each would be less demanding on him and maybe wouldn't be as obvious. If someone knew what he was doing, a cloud of steam or vapor would, very effectively, blind this ability, at least temporarily. There might be ways to spoof it too, against someone who could use Ceraun to pulse as he was, that would be really loud to this sense. Even so, let's try.
Ulric made the adjustment, reducing the strength of the pulses. Immediately the somewhat crisp outlines of leaves, branches, water laden roots dimmed and his Shadow's outline blurred. He concentrated on increasing how rapidly his core pulsed and the image began to resharpen.
Fuck this is cool, Ulric told himself. Magic is so much godsbedamned cheating.
"How now, Taipan?" He checked, looking at her.
The gooseflesh was gone, yes, good.
"It is better now. There is…almost a vague itch, but I would not notice it were I not looking for such things."
"NAILED IT!!" Ulric yelled, before grabbing up his partner and whirling her around, ignoring the squawk she released.
"Ah! Put me down! You are a gifted wizardling, I get it, now stop swinging me around." She complained but not harshly.
Since she had declared his greatness aloud, he deigned to replace her upon the ground.
Grinning, Ulric summoned his status, the first time he had done so in a long while. It had undergone some fairly crucial changes, though most were subtle in their effects.
[Status]
His dexterity at a baseline had increased, the mark of months of dedicated practice in the Elven footwork and in sparring with his betters. It was his classes though that were proving more interesting.
He hadn’t known when, probably in the middle of one of the more intense struggles in recent history, but his classes had changed slightly. He had a trait from his Elementalist class that explained much about why his magic was being all kinds of fucky and he had a feeling that he knew why the scars had shimmered while he was Raging, and how he’d taken comparatively little damage for how many opponents he’d faced in the common room brawl. Synergism was passively boosting his mana’s tendency to interact optimally in its different forms. That mostly explained the odd arcing chains between those [Wind Blades] and the fact that the [Overcharged], but thoroughly Ceraun contaminated [Flame Crash] hadn’t just poofed into randomly ionized static but had produced an exceedingly potent new spellform.
His magic was starting to compensate for his core’s evolution. At last. It would help greatly until he could master his core’s innate Ceraunic nature, at least the interactions of mana would be, mostly, bent towards a favorable outcome. An Akashic helping hand, that was.
[Surge] was different, this was an active ability, the first he’d gotten since [Battle Rhythm]. He could concentrate and effectively burn his core’s reserves of mana to heighten his body’s physical parameters. So, sort of a magical adrenaline, on top of the natural juice. He’d have to be careful with that, he could imagine very quickly beating the shit out of his own neuromuscular systems and muscle attachments with such an ability. Especially if it happened when he wasn’t in control of himself, like earlier.
That might be a little spooky.
It was gratifying to see how his spell list was coming along. He’d accumulated a pretty diverse repertoire, and now had a sensory type spell to go along with his offensive and defensive spellforms. Instructor Gother, damn his dry bones, was a Wizard in truth. Ulric had grown much under that aged Elf’s tutelage. But enough gloating.
Now, it was passed time to be continuing the journey. They returned to the village, it not quite being noon, determined to be on their way. Trachn’ir was not so far away, but they’d not reach it in time to get through the checkpoint at the gate before nightfall, even in this season. Taipan estimated that, even now, there would be enough traffic through the Southern trade hub of Celestin to warrant approaching in the morning hours. Late arrivals would draw attention and they’d already done too much of that.
Joldir, the canny guardsman who had kept to his word and held them under watch since they'd entered the village, stood at the same gate, alongside his partner Seralin, who, Ulric noted, wore the charm her senior had purchased from Taipan the day before.
"Go now in peace, Trader, and I wish you luck. Perhaps do not stray too deep into the wilds lest you be covered anew in foul stink." Joked the guard.
Ulric inclined his head, "My thanks for your advice, Guardsman, and for the hospitality of your village. I do not regret this detour." He returned politely.
It had been a fun little stay, after all was said and done. He and Taipan were dressed in their newly completed traveling gear, more akin to the common wear of the village locals, at Ulric's insistence.
Taipan had chosen not to indulge in the local fashion of adopting a kilt though, preferring her closer fitting pants, the spoilsport.
Their overcoats though were lined with the fur of the creature that had sent them to this out of the way little village and proved every bit up to the challenge of shedding the Winter's fading bite.
Waving, the pair departed the village and made way at a steady if somewhat sedate pace.
Seralin turned to her partner, "There will be no peace where those two are concerned, will there." She stated, more than asked.
Joldir met her eyes and nodded once. "None. They carry anarchy in their pockets. They are fine enough folk, but I am glad that they leave before any more of their fate finds them here." He uttered with relief.
