The Butcher of Gadobhra-Chapter 548: Always good to have friends with large weapons and crafty minds

The Emperor stared at Diego as they enjoyed a private luncheon. Then broke into raucous laugher. "No, you didn't? You convinced a necromancer with an army of two thousand to attack Winter instead of destroying Sedgewick, by making him the town's champion?"

Diego shrugged slightly, "I would dearly love to take credit for it, but I think I was relegated to playing the role of the straight man, while Benjamin held the spotlight. I'd told him that the wolf's vanity was one of his greatest weaknesses and he ran with it. Convincing him that the Rime Knights are 'Northern Paladins' was a stroke of genius. And to be honest, there is an amazing similarity between the groups, at least visually."

"How much trouble can they cause? Two thousand wolves is a formidable force, especially dead ones, but Winter has more than ten times that amount marching against us."

Diego remembered the dreadful encounter with the wolf when he nearly defeated an entire company of Paladins. "You would be surprised. He is intelligent and patient, as long as chicken coops aren't involved. It's highly doubtful Winter will be able to trap him that way. Working with Benjamin and the Shepherd, I can only imagine what they will get up too, but someone in the Winter army isn't going to be happy. A guerilla force operating in an army's backfield is always bad. When that force needs no sleep, no food, and can operate in any weather or at night? I'm sure they will be effective. My only regret is not being there to see it."

Gus felt the same way. "At least you got in on the first part, and I thank you for that. What do you think about the news from the south? How long can William keep that army chasing his troops?"

"I think that the Dragon is going to be frustrated as well. The good Baron is very fixated on profitability and has the opportunity to raid those villages for wagonloads of gold. Add to that the possibility of gold mines and a diamond mine, and he is highly motivated to keep the game going as long as he can. The mercenary captain leading them is aggressive and knows how to best deploy her troops. They won't engage in large battles, but keep moving, setting ambushes, and doing what they can to draw the main army further and further into the jungle as they split up and raid villages."

Gus considered that, but was curious about something. "Raiding and moving on is fine, but mines are a fixed location. If he tries to hold and defend them, the lizardmen will bring all of their forces to bear. A couple of days of mining can't be worth that risk, surely."

"It might be. He suspects that like the villages, the clans operating the mines have held back considerable amounts of precious metal and gems. Those are certainly worth a quick visit. And, I think you would be surprised at what Tier Four miners can accomplish in a day or two. Especially when some of them have over two-hundred enhancement points. I've seen them carve out castle blocks the size of small wagons in only a minute, and tunnel into solid rock at a slow walking pace. They mine for twenty hours a day and are ready to go again after a short nap. And they can defend themselves."

Gus paused with a sausage halfway to his mouth. "How is that possible? Two hundred points?"

Diego smiled, "A lot of hard days of work, nights spent butchering and fighting in Gadobhra, and delving into the dungeons there. The Butcher's Brigade is made up of many different types of craftsmen, from farmers to carpenters."

The Emperor considered that as he chewed the last of the sausages Diego had brought. "And Barmaids, Couriers, and Shepherds."

"Yes, especially those. There are many strange people in Sedgewick, but I can trace most things back to those three, and your friend, the Butcher."

Gus rose and cleaned his greasy hands. "Always good to have friends with large weapons and crafty minds. And speaking of crafty minds, I have a project to run by you, something only the most skilled magi-tech craftsmen could accomplish. But first, let's go talk to some people who think they know everything about magic, and see how far they've gotten on the same project. Darman, please send a runner ahead to the High Mage and his research group so they have time to clean up that mess they call a workshop and put on proper robes. They were quite upset the last time I popped in and found them playing strip poker with that coven of hedge witches that were in town for the Harvest Festival."

Diego was immediately interested. Darman said dryly, "I think they were more annoyed when you joined the game, took all of their money, and gave it to the Coven to start a scholarship fund."

"Then they should learn not to draw on an inside straight and assume I'm bluffing. And it was far better to give it to those women than to keep playing. They were sharp players, and I'd have lost all of next year's taxes and my pants if we'd kept going."

Being given ten minutes warning was just enough time for extensive panic, combing crumbs from their beards and trying to clean the worst stains from their robes. Dalnir once again repeated his complaint that none of them had considered taking the Cleanse cantrip in their youth. "I mean, sure, you had to go fight a few demons once a year, but the damn spell is so useful." His babbling was ignored as each mage panicked in his own way, and their apprentice worked around them, trying to bring order to the workshop. Sparky wasn't nervous at about the situation. Once you've had to deal with a dragon, nothing else, including Emperors, seemed that scary.

The normal customs that the Mages Guild lived by had been tossed aside after the attack on the teleport system. A hundred teleport stones needed recalibration and dozens more needed to be repaired. Years of missed maintenance had taken their toll and too much of the system had failed when the Dragon had forced mana through the stones and overloaded or cooled them to the point that they cracked in half. Transportation of troops, goods, and information across the empire was crippled at a most critical time.

The work to fix things was complicated by the military situation that pulled every available mage of Tier three or higher to one of the fronts. Tier two mages were overseeing the teleportation stones that were working while apprentices were hastily trained in diagnostics and sent on horseback behind Couriers to examine every stone to see which could be quickly repaired. The High Mage and circle of skilled teleportation experts were working twelve hours a day creating new components to fix those stones. No one was worrying about looking their best or trimming their beards. One mage wasn't even wearing a long robe or a hat, something that annoyed the other wizards even as they envied his functional attire. Artemis Grundbook had studied Engineering in his youth before discovering he had a talent for magic. He was falling back into old patterns from his youth, rolling up his sleeves and even drinking beer as he worked. His attitudes were slowly corrupting his fellow mages.

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But an impending visit from the Emperor had everyone nervous, even Artemis. As Captain Darman entered the room, followed by Gustavus and then Inquisitor Diego, the mages were silent. The Emperor looked around the room, his eyes missing nothing. The Inquisitor was doing his own investigations and then returned to a spot behind the Emperor.

"What are your conclusions, Inquisitor?" The mages tensed.

"The places smells of sweat, unwashed bodies, coffee, and ozone. Their faces are haggard, beards untrimmed, and their nails are grimy with oil. I'd say they've been hard at work. Oh, and they have a small keg of beer underneath that pile of copper coils."

"My conclusion as well, Inquisitor. Well done, Master Ostenhoffer. May I trouble you all for two stools and two mugs of beer? And make yourselves comfortable, we need to talk." Stools and beer mugs were found. The Emperor and Inquisitor sat. The mages relaxed, slightly. The apprentice hummed as he swept the floor.

"I came for a visit to see how the work was going. Specifically on bringing mores stones back online, and to repair the mana syphon apparatus that provided much of the mana the Imperial Teleportation System used. Use small words, you know I never attended a magical academy."

Ostenhoffer started to talk, twice, but broke off each time. Finally, he too took a seat. "We are overwhelmed with the work, but doing our best. There are only a few of us, and the work is so exacting that exhaustion comes quickly. But we will continue, and one by one, we will repair each stone in the system, you have my word on that."

"I see. And the syphon?"

The high mage seemed to wilt, "We haven't a clue, sire. We looked through all the records, and we have nothing here. Perhaps there is something at the ruins of Crystalthorne, but the fighting rolls back and forth, and there is no easy way to get to the ruins. I've question Baron Ordo, and he has admitted that he never saw the full plans and assumed we had them. The records are very sketchy about its construction. We know that part of it was based on the theories of Damien Franklin. The work was done by the half-elf, Vladimir Two-Souls, but if he had sketches of his work, he never turned them over. He became so angry when he found out that the tower built to regulate the mana flow was to be turned into a prison, that he vowed to destroy everything. Fearing he might be able to do that, they made him the first inmate."

Gus had heard the story. Many versions of the story. It was ugly and a problem he'd inherited and always wanted to find a method of fixing. Instead, Winter had destroyed it and turned it into a weapon. Now he had a bigger problem.

"I see, so you would say that it is beyond the ability of the Mages Guild to repair the syphon."

Ostenhoffer nodded, "At this time, very much beyond us. Maybe in a decade or two young Sparky here will be in a position to do so. He's a bright lad, and doesn't balk at doing the impossible. The rest of us are quite overwhelmed fixing the system that we understand." Sparky allowed himself a small smile, and kept sweeping and cleaning, throwing the remains of meals into the trash, plates and all, with no one tell yell, "Hey, I was eating that."

Gustavus looked at the piles of components. "You need to make those gadgets to fix the teleporters, yes? Please select twenty of the simplest and put them on the table."

The mages did so, and the Emperor examined them. "Is there any part of these that a competent craftsman with the correct tools and quality raw materials couldn't make?"

The question surprised the mages, who began discussing the items, a little taken aback by the idea of someone else making them. Finally, the High Mage admitted the possibility, "Yes, I think it could be done. But as you said, the proper materials, proper tools, and a skilled craftsman. And we need hundreds of each, not just a few. But we will certainly accept help."

Gustavus smiled, "Good. Box those up, along with the exact specifications for the work. Next question. Replacing the broken stones. How are you progressing in carving those?"

"I'm sorry, sire. But we aren't. It will take decades to train new runecarvers, quarry the stones, and install the proper apparatus."

The Emperor shook his head, "And I don't have that time. I don't know much about such things, but I've been informed that each stone would have an exact set of runes on it, for its location, and that the detailed plans for each stone are kept here." He handed over a list of thirty key locations in the empire. "If you can repair these stones, they are a priority. If you can't, and new stones must be carved, please pull those plans and hand them to the Inquisitor."

The mages dithered a bit, discussing if such a thing could be done by anyone else. Darman growled at them, "I don't believe the Emperor asked you a question, but gave an order."

Twenty minutes later, Inquisitor Diego left the room with the Emperor. Captain Darman had a tube of rolled schematics for twenty-one broken stones and a package of components, tools, and instructions for the construction.

The Emperor turned to Diego, "One more stop to make. Have you seen the wonderful things that they can do now with colored printing? I love putting out new proclamations and watch them being prepared on the printing presses."

Unlike the High Mage, the printing office in the castle was not warned about the Emperor's visit, but weren't worried when he arrived. He'd been down many times before to watch them work. He'd been doing it since he was a boy and had a collection of every wanted poster they'd printed in the last thirty years.