Chapter 64: Sowing Seeds
Chapter 64: Sowing Seeds
In the days to come, Galamon was strongly reminded of back when he and Argrave had been planning for the assault on the druid’s camp. Argrave led them through the city as adroitly as one who lived there, heading to obscure shops and famous shops in equal measure and setting various things in motion. They were unbothered by any, though Galamon was acutely aware of the people watching them. At times, they would be accosted by irate people suspicious that they were Veidimen, but when Argrave removed his Circlet of Disguise and revealed his non-elven features, that was typically enough to send them away.
There was an undeniable tension in the city. Galamon mostly harvested his blood from places like taverns, where the people within would be less cautious of him and far easier to prey upon. While there, he often witnessed people come to blows in debates regarding the cause of the Snakes or the Lions. Common opinion seemed to favor the rebels. Furthermore, the word of an invasion against Mateth had set people against the Veidimen, stoking tempers more yet.
Much of Galamon’s time was occupied with the repair of his armor, as the smiths needed to be directed in Veidimen styles. Galamon made use of the days spent on this endeavor to make the Ebonice arrows from the daggers as Argrave had suggested. Galamon used all but five daggers and chiseled out thirty Ebonice arrowheads. It would be more than sufficient for their needs for a long while, he suspected.
The rest of Galamon’s time dealt with accompanying Argrave on his spendthrift shopping journeys. Galamon had been unsure that Argrave’s price estimates were accurate, for most of the things he intended to purchase could be considered heirlooms in aristocratic houses. Most of the time, Argrave managed to get them far cheaper than he initially predicted. Much of it was due to Argrave’s bartering prowess.
The majority of what Argrave ordered would take some time to finish, and so once all of the requests were put in and down payments were made, their party retired to the inn and devoted their time to study. Argrave often drank the black liquid magic and talked about ‘repaying his magic debt quickly.’ It was idyllic compared to their usual activities, and Argrave commented on that fact often.
They were only disturbed on the seventh day of their stay.
#####
“What are you doing?” asked Galamon, who’d just re-entered into the inn’s room. He wore plain brown clothes with long sleeves. His frame was large and the clothes stuck tight, giving the impression he wore something too small. “What are you wearing?”
Argrave stood beside a table, where an empty pot and a potted plant rested beside each other. The ‘potted plant’ was, in actuality, a strange multi-colored mushroom sprouting about a foot high. Argrave wore an apron and held a small shovel, where he lowered dirt into the empty pot. Anneliese watched as though the ordeal was fascinating.
“Some light gardening,” joked Argrave. He looked into the empty pot. “I suspect this much should be enough…” He retrieved a stone shaped like a real heart and lowered it into the pot. “Now, let’s put the Amaranthine Heart into there… and next, this plant.”
“What was it you called this?” Anneliese pointed to the plant.
“Hydra’s Canopy.” Argrave pulled out the mushroom and lowered it into the other pot, whereupon he promptly buried it in dirt. “It’s well-known for being ridiculously resilient. You cut off the mushroom’s cap, it’s grown back by the end of the day and then some.”
“So, because of its resilience, the Amaranthine Heart can extract more liquid magic from it before the plant dies. It has more life to convert to magic.”
“Sure,” Argrave said, piling dirt on. “There are plants we might use that are more cost-efficient, but this little mushroom offers the most yield in the shortest amount of time. After around three days, we get another Hydra’s Canopy, and we extract all the magic the Heart’s produced.”
Argrave mused about the many graphs people had made to calculate which plants were most efficient, cost-wise, for the best gold-to-magic ratio. Most everyone in the ‘Heroes of Berendar’ community agreed that, after the player had collected enough money, it was best to spend more for the Hydra’s Canopy.
“You’re certain this will work?” Anneliese questioned as Argrave put the last bit of dirt over the mushroom’s stalk.
“Sure,” said Argrave. “I mean, it should work. I’ve never seen it done, and I don’t know if I’m doing it right… but ostensibly, this is all we need to do.”
In ‘Heroes of Berendar,’ it had been as simple as opening your inventory and combining the items within it. Argrave recalled the item descriptions, and this was what they described. If there was something he was missing, he couldn’t be certain, but he was relatively confident.
Argrave removed his apron, folding it neatly and placing it on the table. “I know, I know. I can see the questions on your head—how does he know these things? But you forfeited your right to ask that question.” Argrave cleaned off the shovel with the apron. “Having any change of heart? My offer still stands. You’ve done a lot for me, both of you, so if you have something to ask…”
“Hold,” Galamon said, and Argrave turned towards him curiously. Then, Argrave heard it too—a set of footsteps moving up the stairs of the inn.
He heard them walk across the hall, and then a knock came to their door. Galamon held up one finger to symbolize one person and waited for Argrave’s direction. Argrave nodded and gestured towards the door. Galamon moved to open it. A broad-shouldered man wearing leather armor waited, face covered by a mask.
“You’re one of Rivien’s men,” Galamon said at once. “I’ve seen you watching.”
“Aye, I am,” he said, staring up at Galamon cautiously. “Saved me the trouble of explaining myself, it seems.”
“What is it?” Argrave inquired, moving up. “Some trouble?”
“Depends. Rivien said little lord Stain came to him, said he had some urgent news for you. Considering your history, Rivien thought it’d be prudent to run it by you.”
Argrave pursed his lips. “I’d like to see Stain.”
“At once,” the man nodded, then walked away from the door.
#####
“So this is where you’re staying,” said Stain idly, glancing around their room. Argrave could tell he was a bit taken aback by the sheer quantity of books. They had turned the place into a mini-library in the days that they’d been here. His gaze locked on the potted mushroom, expression perplexed.
Rivien’s man that had been here earlier pushed Stain inside, and then came to stand in the corner. “Rivien told me I should offer to stay, make sure nothing gets out of hand.”
“Offer declined,” Argrave said simply. “Be off, would you?”
The man nodded, unoffended by Argrave’s brusqueness. He left and shut the door quickly. Argrave held out his hand and cast the new wide-range C-rank warding spell he’d learned, and at once, the four of them were shrouded in a ward from which no sound could leak.
Stain’s eyes darted around uneasily. He fixed his brown hair, and then stood nervously with his hands in politely held in front of him. “I’m sorry for contacting you ahead of our date, but there was something I heard that my intuition said you might be interested in.”
Argrave grabbed a chair and pulled it away from the table in the center of the room, sitting down in front of Stain. When sitting, his gaze was level with Stain’s. “Let’s hear it.”
“Right.” Stain cleared his throat. “Er… well, firstly, I figured out what you wanted me to figure out. My brother is going to be following his liege lord, the Duke of Elbraille, into war. He’ll be taking the side of the Snakes, cretin that he—er, excuse me,” Stain cut himself off, clearly afraid to share his opinion.
Argrave took a deep breath and sighed. “I see,” he said, keeping his thoughts hidden in front of Stain. “You have proof of this?”
“Oh… erm, I didn’t… it’s still at my place in the cistern. I can…” he stepped towards the door quickly.
“Get it later. For now, let’s finish our talk.” Argrave crossed one leg over the other. “Anything else regarding the war you can mention? For example, the ‘why’ of things?”
“No. Even the letter I did manage to get was vague, but I confirmed that Elbraille intends to support Vasquer. Apparently, the crown prince is coming to officiate things, make some promises concrete. Typical noble back-patting, pampers and perfumes, the like.”
Argrave frowned. “He isn’t coming here, I hope?”
“No,” Stain shook his head quickly. “The prince is going straight to Elbraille, where he’ll be hosted by Duke Marauch and his wife.”
“I see.” Argrave leaned back in the chair, his brain spinning.
The biggest change I’ve caused is House Monticci maintaining its control over Mateth and its other territories. It’s reasonable to assume that this is the biggest cause for this happening… I’ve got some ideas, but I need to talk this out with Anneliese. I’m sure she can help me make sense of this, help me make a course of action.
“Erm… now, about that thing that was urgent…,” Stain spoke, breaking the silence.
“Oh.” Argrave lifted his head, drawn from his thoughts. “Go ahead, tell me.”
“Apparently, the young lord Elias of Parbon is coming to Jast,” Stain spoke slowly. “My brother plans to host a welcoming banquet for him, and he sent out a messenger to intercept him with an invitation. Considering who the Duke’s siding with, I thought this was a pretty big thing if Elias comes right into my brother’s seat of power. There might be some things that happen. House arrest at best, a slaughter at worst, though I doubt he’ll be killed. Elias has more value alive, I think.”
Argrave furrowed his brows. “Him again?” he muttered. “Elias’ escort can’t be small, considering it’s wartime.”
“I’m not sure about all that,” Stain shook his head. “From what I heard from the Count, he doesn’t think Elias will even come to the banquet. I think there might be something else in the works—ambush on the roads, or maybe even the streets. A card like that… it’s got value. Knowing my brother, he’d like to keep Elias as a ‘guest’ for a long while.”
“Margrave Reinhardt knows his son would be a prime target. I don’t think—” Argrave paused before he got further into his thought process. “Alright. It was good of you to bring this to me.”
“Absolutely,” Stain said enthusiastically. “I’ll get those letters you wanted right away, no problem at all. You need anything else, don’t hesitate. You know where I am. I think. And if not, you can… find me,” Stain trailed off nervously.
“There is something else. You’ve done well bringing me this, but I need you to do something more.” Argrave leaned in. “Find Elias.”
“And do what…?” Stain asked, clearly taken aback.
“Tell him that Argrave is looking for him. Tell him that we should speak before he enters Jast.”
Stain nodded. “Is that your name?”
“Yes and no,” Argrave said. There was some truth to that, strangely enough. “Be off, then, and retrieve those letters. Return shortly—we’ll still be here.”
In the days to come, Galamon was strongly reminded of back when he and Argrave had been planning for the assault on the druid’s camp. Argrave led them through the city as adroitly as one who lived there, heading to obscure shops and famous shops in equal measure and setting various things in motion. They were unbothered by any, though Galamon was acutely aware of the people watching them. At times, they would be accosted by irate people suspicious that they were Veidimen, but when Argrave removed his Circlet of Disguise and revealed his non-elven features, that was typically enough to send them away.
There was an undeniable tension in the city. Galamon mostly harvested his blood from places like taverns, where the people within would be less cautious of him and far easier to prey upon. While there, he often witnessed people come to blows in debates regarding the cause of the Snakes or the Lions. Common opinion seemed to favor the rebels. Furthermore, the word of an invasion against Mateth had set people against the Veidimen, stoking tempers more yet.
Much of Galamon’s time was occupied with the repair of his armor, as the smiths needed to be directed in Veidimen styles. Galamon made use of the days spent on this endeavor to make the Ebonice arrows from the daggers as Argrave had suggested. Galamon used all but five daggers and chiseled out thirty Ebonice arrowheads. It would be more than sufficient for their needs for a long while, he suspected.
The rest of Galamon’s time dealt with accompanying Argrave on his spendthrift shopping journeys. Galamon had been unsure that Argrave’s price estimates were accurate, for most of the things he intended to purchase could be considered heirlooms in aristocratic houses. Most of the time, Argrave managed to get them far cheaper than he initially predicted. Much of it was due to Argrave’s bartering prowess.
The majority of what Argrave ordered would take some time to finish, and so once all of the requests were put in and down payments were made, their party retired to the inn and devoted their time to study. Argrave often drank the black liquid magic and talked about ‘repaying his magic debt quickly.’ It was idyllic compared to their usual activities, and Argrave commented on that fact often.
They were only disturbed on the seventh day of their stay.
#####
“What are you doing?” asked Galamon, who’d just re-entered into the inn’s room. He wore plain brown clothes with long sleeves. His frame was large and the clothes stuck tight, giving the impression he wore something too small. “What are you wearing?”
Argrave stood beside a table, where an empty pot and a potted plant rested beside each other. The ‘potted plant’ was, in actuality, a strange multi-colored mushroom sprouting about a foot high. Argrave wore an apron and held a small shovel, where he lowered dirt into the empty pot. Anneliese watched as though the ordeal was fascinating.
“Some light gardening,” joked Argrave. He looked into the empty pot. “I suspect this much should be enough…” He retrieved a stone shaped like a real heart and lowered it into the pot. “Now, let’s put the Amaranthine Heart into there… and next, this plant.”
“What was it you called this?” Anneliese pointed to the plant.
“Hydra’s Canopy.” Argrave pulled out the mushroom and lowered it into the other pot, whereupon he promptly buried it in dirt. “It’s well-known for being ridiculously resilient. You cut off the mushroom’s cap, it’s grown back by the end of the day and then some.”
“So, because of its resilience, the Amaranthine Heart can extract more liquid magic from it before the plant dies. It has more life to convert to magic.”
“Sure,” Argrave said, piling dirt on. “There are plants we might use that are more cost-efficient, but this little mushroom offers the most yield in the shortest amount of time. After around three days, we get another Hydra’s Canopy, and we extract all the magic the Heart’s produced.”
Argrave mused about the many graphs people had made to calculate which plants were most efficient, cost-wise, for the best gold-to-magic ratio. Most everyone in the ‘Heroes of Berendar’ community agreed that, after the player had collected enough money, it was best to spend more for the Hydra’s Canopy.
“You’re certain this will work?” Anneliese questioned as Argrave put the last bit of dirt over the mushroom’s stalk.
“Sure,” said Argrave. “I mean, it should work. I’ve never seen it done, and I don’t know if I’m doing it right… but ostensibly, this is all we need to do.”
In ‘Heroes of Berendar,’ it had been as simple as opening your inventory and combining the items within it. Argrave recalled the item descriptions, and this was what they described. If there was something he was missing, he couldn’t be certain, but he was relatively confident.
Argrave removed his apron, folding it neatly and placing it on the table. “I know, I know. I can see the questions on your head—how does he know these things? But you forfeited your right to ask that question.” Argrave cleaned off the shovel with the apron. “Having any change of heart? My offer still stands. You’ve done a lot for me, both of you, so if you have something to ask…”
“Hold,” Galamon said, and Argrave turned towards him curiously. Then, Argrave heard it too—a set of footsteps moving up the stairs of the inn.
He heard them walk across the hall, and then a knock came to their door. Galamon held up one finger to symbolize one person and waited for Argrave’s direction. Argrave nodded and gestured towards the door. Galamon moved to open it. A broad-shouldered man wearing leather armor waited, face covered by a mask.
“You’re one of Rivien’s men,” Galamon said at once. “I’ve seen you watching.”
“Aye, I am,” he said, staring up at Galamon cautiously. “Saved me the trouble of explaining myself, it seems.”
“What is it?” Argrave inquired, moving up. “Some trouble?”
“Depends. Rivien said little lord Stain came to him, said he had some urgent news for you. Considering your history, Rivien thought it’d be prudent to run it by you.”
Argrave pursed his lips. “I’d like to see Stain.”
“At once,” the man nodded, then walked away from the door.
#####
“So this is where you’re staying,” said Stain idly, glancing around their room. Argrave could tell he was a bit taken aback by the sheer quantity of books. They had turned the place into a mini-library in the days that they’d been here. His gaze locked on the potted mushroom, expression perplexed.
Rivien’s man that had been here earlier pushed Stain inside, and then came to stand in the corner. “Rivien told me I should offer to stay, make sure nothing gets out of hand.”
“Offer declined,” Argrave said simply. “Be off, would you?”
The man nodded, unoffended by Argrave’s brusqueness. He left and shut the door quickly. Argrave held out his hand and cast the new wide-range C-rank warding spell he’d learned, and at once, the four of them were shrouded in a ward from which no sound could leak.
Stain’s eyes darted around uneasily. He fixed his brown hair, and then stood nervously with his hands in politely held in front of him. “I’m sorry for contacting you ahead of our date, but there was something I heard that my intuition said you might be interested in.”
Argrave grabbed a chair and pulled it away from the table in the center of the room, sitting down in front of Stain. When sitting, his gaze was level with Stain’s. “Let’s hear it.”
“Right.” Stain cleared his throat. “Er… well, firstly, I figured out what you wanted me to figure out. My brother is going to be following his liege lord, the Duke of Elbraille, into war. He’ll be taking the side of the Snakes, cretin that he—er, excuse me,” Stain cut himself off, clearly afraid to share his opinion.
Argrave took a deep breath and sighed. “I see,” he said, keeping his thoughts hidden in front of Stain. “You have proof of this?”
“Oh… erm, I didn’t… it’s still at my place in the cistern. I can…” he stepped towards the door quickly.
“Get it later. For now, let’s finish our talk.” Argrave crossed one leg over the other. “Anything else regarding the war you can mention? For example, the ‘why’ of things?”
“No. Even the letter I did manage to get was vague, but I confirmed that Elbraille intends to support Vasquer. Apparently, the crown prince is coming to officiate things, make some promises concrete. Typical noble back-patting, pampers and perfumes, the like.”
Argrave frowned. “He isn’t coming here, I hope?”
“No,” Stain shook his head quickly. “The prince is going straight to Elbraille, where he’ll be hosted by Duke Marauch and his wife.”
“I see.” Argrave leaned back in the chair, his brain spinning.
The biggest change I’ve caused is House Monticci maintaining its control over Mateth and its other territories. It’s reasonable to assume that this is the biggest cause for this happening… I’ve got some ideas, but I need to talk this out with Anneliese. I’m sure she can help me make sense of this, help me make a course of action.
“Erm… now, about that thing that was urgent…,” Stain spoke, breaking the silence.
“Oh.” Argrave lifted his head, drawn from his thoughts. “Go ahead, tell me.”
“Apparently, the young lord Elias of Parbon is coming to Jast,” Stain spoke slowly. “My brother plans to host a welcoming banquet for him, and he sent out a messenger to intercept him with an invitation. Considering who the Duke’s siding with, I thought this was a pretty big thing if Elias comes right into my brother’s seat of power. There might be some things that happen. House arrest at best, a slaughter at worst, though I doubt he’ll be killed. Elias has more value alive, I think.”
Argrave furrowed his brows. “Him again?” he muttered. “Elias’ escort can’t be small, considering it’s wartime.”
“I’m not sure about all that,” Stain shook his head. “From what I heard from the Count, he doesn’t think Elias will even come to the banquet. I think there might be something else in the works—ambush on the roads, or maybe even the streets. A card like that… it’s got value. Knowing my brother, he’d like to keep Elias as a ‘guest’ for a long while.”
“Margrave Reinhardt knows his son would be a prime target. I don’t think—” Argrave paused before he got further into his thought process. “Alright. It was good of you to bring this to me.”
“Absolutely,” Stain said enthusiastically. “I’ll get those letters you wanted right away, no problem at all. You need anything else, don’t hesitate. You know where I am. I think. And if not, you can… find me,” Stain trailed off nervously.
“There is something else. You’ve done well bringing me this, but I need you to do something more.” Argrave leaned in. “Find Elias.”
“And do what…?” Stain asked, clearly taken aback.
“Tell him that Argrave is looking for him. Tell him that we should speak before he enters Jast.”
Stain nodded. “Is that your name?”
“Yes and no,” Argrave said. There was some truth to that, strangely enough. “Be off, then, and retrieve those letters. Return shortly—we’ll still be here.”
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