BT 2 - Chapter 14

Torch flames crackled from either side of  Micah as he sat cross-legged in the center of a large wooden building.  On his right sat three small figures, their features obscured by cloaks made of iridescent bird feathers.  Behind them on the wall were lacquered wooden plates, stylized drawings etched into them with green ink.  One disk displayed a hammer, another a leaf, and the final one a boulder.

To his left sat three women.  They weren’t wearing much beyond breastplates made of layered, hardened animal hide and battle kilts fashioned from weighted strips of leather.  Like the concealed figures, the women also had wooden circles hanging on the wall, one for each of them.  Green ink etched into the stained and treated wood formed the shape of a bow, a spear, and a net.

More importantly, two people sat on raised chairs in front of him.  On the right was a short man, a feather hood draped around his shoulders and accenting his light purple skin.  Next to him sat a huge orange woman, red hair flowing down her back.

“Leeka,” the woman said solemnly.  “You have brought an outsider to our tribe when we are on the eve of war with the Roktoll.  For all you know he could be working with their tribe to undermine or harm us at a critical moment.  What are your intentions in bringing him here?”

“Micah isn’t a him!”  Leeka offered cheerfully from her spot sitting cross-legged to his left.  “Micah can cast spells and use a spear.  That means that they are in both the warrior and the wood adept castes.”

“No.”  The purple male struggled to keep the corners of his mouth from turning upward at the distress on Micah’s face.  “He is an outsider, but unless he is hiding some secret from us, he is most definitely male.  Those from outside the jungle have fewer differences between the sexes.  I’m afraid your new friend is fairly normal.”

“Well,” the man continued, cocking his head to the side slightly.  “As far as I remember, most outsiders don’t excel in both spellcasting and physical combat, so maybe he isn’t entirely normal.”

Leeka’s upper body swiveled until she was all but facing Micah, gaping down at him in disbelief, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

“But Micah,” she sputtered.  “You said you were-”

“No, I didn’t,” Micah replied, shaking his head.  “Every time I tried to mention that I was male you would get all flustered and tell me that your people were very accepting and that I shouldn’t be ashamed of myself.”

“That sounds about right for Leeka,” the unnamed female said gravely, leaning forward in her rustic throne.  “But it doesn’t answer Bisthos’ question.  Tell us, Micah, why did you come to Pashta?  What do you want from our people and what do you hope to accomplish here?”

“Would you believe me if I said that it was as simple as me going overboard on a passing ship and then washing ashore?”  Micah asked hopefully.

“Maybe,” the man, Bisthos apparently, began only for the orange woman to cut him off.

“But we would need proof.”  She leaned forward, concern creasing her burnt orange forehead.  “The Roktoll have been restive as of late.  Their warriors and huntresses have begun venturing into our hunting and trapping zones.  It’s only a matter of time before our border dispute erupts into open violence, and then out of nowhere you appear, claiming to have washed up on our shore despite the sparsely traveled trade routes that skirt our jungle.”

“Oh that’s simple then,”  Leeka supplied proudly.  “The Roktoll have already attacked.  Micah encountered me just after I had escaped from an ambush party.  When they caught up, he killed most of them.  I would have died out in the jungle without him.  Even Jakaw was impressed.”

Micah shifted slightly, barely able to stop himself from groaning.  Both Bisthos and the orange woman’s eyes sharpened as they scrutinized him, obviously even more suspicious about the timing of his arrival.

“See!” Leeka continued, reaching out to slap Micah on the back with one of her huge mitts, “thanks to Micah’s miraculous timing, I’m alive to report back about the Roktoll attack, AND he helped kill two of their huntresses and two of their warriors.  He simply can’t be a threat to Pashta.”

“What do you think Stella?” Bisthos asked, eyes not leaving Micah.  “You’re the one in charge of providing the tribe with food and assessing potential threats.  Do you think that this newcomer ‘couldn’t possibly be a threat’ to our village.”

“I’ll cut you off there,” Micah interjected, trying his hardest to flash a charming and unthreatening smile at the two of them.  “My timing was fairly suspicious, but it’s hardly anything I can control.  That said, I’m far from where I want to be.  Right now, I only want to buy supplies and a map to Jakint.  I can hardly betray your people if I’m far from them.”

Stella opened her mouth to retort, but Bisthos held up a hand, silencing the larger woman.  He leaned in, whispering something to her.  She responded in kind.  Micah was unable to make out any of the specific words, but there was no question that her tone was much sharper than his.

She leaned forward, putting a hand on the much smaller man’s shoulder.  Insistent whispers growing louder.  Calmly,  Bisthos put his hand over hers and picked it up off his shoulder.  Silently, he shook his head, silencing Stella.  She slammed her back into her chair, crossing her arms and glowering at Micah.

“Hypothetically,”  Bisthos said slowly as he regarded Micah.  “Let’s say that we believe you.  Right now you want to buy supplies from us and journey to Jakint.  In ordinary times, my craftsmen would jump at the opportunity to trade with you, but with a war lurking on the horizon, I’m unsure what we can spare.”

“If that’s the case,” Micah responded, shrugging at the shorter man, “I guess all I can ask for are directions toward Jakint.  Of course, all I’m really looking for is a new spear, preferably a well crafted one, a couple days' worth of food and a map.  I’m more than willing to handle enchanting whatever I buy on my own if you can point me in the direction of a high level monster.”

“Enchant?”  Bisthos hissed, eyes almost dilating as he leaned forward in his chair.  “What level is your skill in enchanting?  Are you in the double digits yet?”

Next to the purple man, Stella snorted, arms still crossed.  Her glare shifted from Micah to Bisthos.  Ultimately, she said nothing, instead content to just roll her eyes.

“I am well into the double digits,” Micah said agreeably.  “Although I am primarily a spear fighter and a spellcaster, I’ve also spent a significant amount of time training as an enchanter.  There is a significant amount of synergy between the two sets of abilities.  Enchanting lets me improve my combat capabilities, and fighting skill lets me capture the sort of creatures I will need for truly powerful enchantments.”

“As for the Roktoll.”  He shrugged.  “I don’t know anything about them other than the fact that they attacked Leeka and I.  To be fair, Leeka also attacked me, but she apologized for it and I tend to believe her.  If you need me to fight against them to prove that I am not a threat to your tribe, so be it.  So long as you provide me with a weapon, and your battle plan doesn’t involve weeks and weeks of waiting, I’d be happy to engage in a beneficial exchange.”

“Just how powerful are you?”  Stella asked, her eyes slits as she contemplated him.  “You’ve been dropping hints this entire conversation that you’re some sort of accomplished warrior.  Before I commit to anything, I need to know how much of an impact you can make in our war with the Roktoll.”

Micah reached up, scratching his cheek in embarrassment as he debated how much to share.  Leeka’s tribe was already on edge.  Revealing exactly how much he could do might send them into a spiral.  At the same time, the dual chiefs were fairly sharp.  If he told an outright lie, they’d probably have some idea that he was twistin the truth.

“I could probably defeat one or two level sixties in a fair fight,” he finally answered, shrugging.  Of course, that wasn’t entirely true.  He certainly could kill one or two level sixty blessed in a fair fight, but one of his regular jobs for the Red Sands government was clearing a level sixty dungeon located a day or two outside of town.  Although Trevor and Drekt would come with him, they were there mostly to gain experience and serve as a safety net.  He’d soloed the dungeon before, and if he managed to fix the disruptions the third prince had inflicted on the timeline, he fully planned on soloing it again.

“Impossible!”  The woman sitting under the sigil of the spear shouted, exploding to her feet.  “Stella is the only one in our tribe even approaching that level!  There’s no way that a man could defeat her.”

Five arcane words, muttered under Micah’s breath and accompanied by two quick, decisive hand motions was all it took for him to cast stasis.  Just as the orange warrior finished her interruption she froze, a greyish blue glow flickering across her skin.

Slowly, Stella stood up, glowering at Micah.  Bisthos ran past her, barely taller than Micah’s sitting form when he was standing at his full height on the chamber floor, and poked the immobile warrior with a finger.  The greyish blue field brightened, refusing to allow him passage.

He glanced at Micah quizzically, as if asking him a question.

“She’ll be fine,” Micah answered, waving a hand.  “I’ve used a spell to cut her off from the flow of time.  For about the next minute and a half, she will be unable to move but utterly invulnerable.  Once the magic fades, she won’t have any perception of what happened.  For her, one minute she was finishing her monologue, and the next everyone will be in new positions.  Unless she can pick up on context clues, she won’t even know what happened.”

“Stella,”  Bisthos said.  The single word contained a whole volume of information.  He nodded at his co-chief before returning his attention to the frozen woman.

The female chief glowered down at him for a couple of seconds, her eyes flickering between Micah, Bisthos, and the unnamed warrior.  Micah remained unmoved, legs still crossed as he returned her stare placidly.

“If you truly are this powerful,” she ground out, “how did you end up lost and on our shores?  A blessed of your capabilities should be working for one of the great nations on the plains or leading a major guild.  Our jungle isn’t where someone like you belongs.”

“To be honest I do lead a guild,” Micah replied with a self-depreciating chuckle.  “I was on a treasure hunt with a couple of my companions when I ended up overboard.  The rest of the story is a bit of a secret, so I hope you won’t mind me holding back some of the specific details.”

As he finished speaking, the warrior standing next to Bithsos jerked, the glow around her fading away.  She blinked, eyes widening as she looked down at the small man standing next to her.  He shook his head at her, smiling kindly.

“Fine,” Stella sighed, returning to her seat.  “If your request is for a spear, supplies, a guide and a target, that is something that can be arranged.  You should know that my huntresses will be watching you, alert for the slightest slip, but if you are true to your word, we will honor your request.”

To the side, the woman sitting under the plaque emblazoned with a bow and arrow nodded.

“Micah,”  Stella addressed him directly, glaring down at him from her raised throne.  “Bithsos has agreed to have his craftsmen make the finest spear they can from their available materials.  In return, we ask only three things.”

“First.”  She raised a single finger.  “That you enchant two items.  My spear and a seashell necklace for Bithsos.”

“So long as you provide the ritual ingredients and sacrifice for the enchantment,” Micah agreed, “I’ll be happy to help out on that front so long as the rest of the deal is satisfactory.  Obviously there are some limits to my ability, but I will discuss those limits with the two of you in good faith.”

“Good,” Stella continued, raising a second finger.  “The next requirement is that you defeat one monster under the control of the Roktoll.  Their female chief, Sasha, was a trapper that specialized in taming before rising to her position.  If you can remove her most powerful pet, it would help our war effort significantly.  Plus, as I understand it you want to fight a strong monster before you leave.  This will grant you that opportunity.”

“That sounds acceptable to me,”  Micah replied.

“Finally,” the chief finished, lifting her third finger, “we simply want you to leave our lands until the conflict plays itself out.  I’m still not satisfied that you aren’t some sort of con man or Roktoll agent.  Once everything is over, so long as you don’t betray the Pastha, you’re more than welcome to come back, but for now it would be simpler for everyone involved if you just weren’t in the area complicating matters.”

“I believe we have an agreement,”  Micah said with a decisive nod.  “You provide me with a spear and a target.  In exchange for enchanting two items and eliminating the target, you’ll provide me with traveling provisions and directions to Jakint.”

“Perfect!”  Bisthos exclaimed, clapping his delicate lilac hands together.  “I will put together a list of what we have available for reagents as well as the specifications we’re looking for in the enchantments.  You should talk to Patto about taking your measurements for the spear.  He is the most skilled craftsman in his caste, so it's only appropriate that he handle your request personally.”

To the side, the cloaked figure sitting beneath the symbol of the hammer inclined his head slightly in Micah’s direction.

“And Leeka will fill you in on the Roktoll’s river kraken,” Stella continued, grinning wickedly.  “One our huntresses has reported back that it has evolved recently.  In all likelihood, that is the reason behind their sudden aggressive behavior.  For a long time there has been a careful balance of power between our two tribes.  Its evolution could very easily upset that balance.”

“Me,” Leeka squeaked, eyes widening as she stared at Stella.  “Why do I have to tell Micah about the river kraken.  I don’t actually spend much time hunting by the Amghul river, surely someone else would-”

“You got us into this mess with the outsider,” Stella responded decisively as Leeka blanched.  “It only makes sense that you take responsibility.  It's hardly fair to expect Micah, someone who doesn’t know the first thing about our jungle, to know his way around.  He couldn’t make it to the coast, let alone the kraken’s lake.  You and your stripe-tail will serve as his guides.”