Jaxom will be working to make farm tools for the new people.
"This is ant meat?" Alden asks, clearly surprised. "The smell is mouth-watering. You are clearly a master of the culinary arts, M'Lady."
"Thank you." the dragon responded hesitantly, "Though I am no such master." She begins to eat, looking down at her food. After a long moment of silence she meets Alden's gaze again. "They seem like they will make fine cattle, in a sense." she begins again.
If Alden tries the meat he will find it a mix of different expectations. It has the look and smell of a roast, but the meat itself is far different. It's soft texture and juiciness was indeed akin to seafood. Though it also had a gamey after taste similar to wild boar.
As they ate the lady spoke to him about the nature of such ants. How they were common to the west of her old home. She then goes on to tell him about some of the merchants who used to come visit her home. She was more animated than previous times the party had dined with her.
"Where was your home before the sundering, M'Lady? That is, if I may ask," Alden says.
The lady smiles, her gaze growing distant. "This forest was originally along the edge of the Tapur forest in Qadira." she says fondly, "Not all that far from Katheer."
She goes on to speak about her time spent there and some of the things she observed. How there were clashes between fey and humans in the deeper forest. She also speaks of trading with merchants. "There was a merchant there who reminds me a bit of you." she said, "He was too interested in being fair to both parties. He really didn't make a good merchant. He was a man of integrity though. He did not share my location with many others. I was free to trade without too many trying to steal from me."
She gives an amused laugh. "Of course, those who try to steal from a dragon often contribute to one's horde." she adds.
While Alden dined with the dragon, Lars...he filled his time. There was so much to do, and yet he had far too much time on his hands to think. On one hand, he was in a village that was safe and prosperous. The survivors were integrating into it. There was work to be done, in the making of medicine and potions, two things that he was well qualified to do. But at the same time, he had time to think. And for the first time, he actually had time to mourn. For all of the lives that had been lost. For those that he had failed to save. This was not the explosive anger of before, but rather a weary sadness that came from reflection in an environment that was safe.
While it was well and good to settle in, he was ready to adventure forth with the others. He knew that grief did not have a cure, but the symptoms could be treated. And the best way was to keep busy.
”Would that all merchants were of a like skill as your friend,” Alden replies, raising his cup in a small toast to the man he’d never met. ”I hadn’t traveled much before the Sundering, but I met my share of unscrupulous merchants, magistrates, and nobles to last the remainder of my lifetime, whatever it might be. It must be some small comfort to you that some small part of your lands came with you in the breaking.”
Making alchemist fire
We failed but didn't lose the cost.
That's two in two weeks expending 134sp in supplies
"All of them." the lady clarified, "I am no ancient dragon. I was far too close to the capitol, and too young to claim such an important forest for myself. But I was satisfied. Now, even more so."
A smile comes easily to her features and she stands. "Would you like to see something I've been working on?" she asks. If Alden is willing she leads him to the entrance to her lair, and then down into the dark underbelly of the tree.
Once inside he notes that the belly of the immense tree stump had been fully hollowed out into a dry living space. Softly glowing moss lined the walls in places. Light blues and pale greens that were artistically sculpted into symbols and patterns. The floor had stone tiles that were washed over in alchemical resin, leaving it soft to walk on.
There were sections of the stump that remained, cordoning off some of the spaces in an open concept floor plan. The largest of which seemed to be her treasure room, though as he walked by he also saw an impressive four post bed with sheets and pillows freshly made.
She led him to one side of her lair... to what looked like a workshop. A few rounded opening were setup for both ventilation and light. Inside was a bellows, what looked like an alchemy lab, and other working stations he was not familiar with. On one such station a palm sized orb of etherium hovered above a ring coaster.
"I find it fascinating how it can be made to float." Talschornvox said in a bemused tone, "Have you experimented with it like this?"
Kevan uses some of his downtime to make multiple flasks of alchemist fire. Tel Beys makes a comment on potentially having to requisition some for the militia if the rogue piles up too much of the stuff. Milana seems pleased, and makes a request for a few different mundane items from him if he can find the time. "Some new soaps and lotions would be nice in the bath." she suggests, "Since you have an official workshop and all. I'm sure Syardis and her newly minted glassblowers would love to furnish you with vials and beakers for such luxury items." The kobold Kras'tak, who just happened to be clinging to the woman's skirts gave a knowing hiss. "Yesss, Kras'tak help Kevan, so Kevan will help Milana yess."
Lars helped the few survivors settle in. Most of which ended up in a series of communal homes. Bunk houses of a sort with several other women and children who had also been left without family. Getting settled was socially easy, but some of the survivors had other traumas to get through. Nightmares and fear still remained.
Yet they were not alone. The people of New Ostenso who were now of Bogpass had similar troubles. The fear that ghouls might sneak into their homes at night and abduct a spouse or child was, if anything, equal to the creeping assault of the ants.
He himself was put up in a similar bunkhouse, this one with several younger men who labored at various tasks they were assigned. One or two were trying to learn a trade, but they were all unskilled laborers.
One evening a young man known as Timalt approached Lars. "So you've been here a minute..." he begins with hesitation, "You planning to be one of those big shot heroes? They could use the help you know, having a few of their number choose to hang it up and be proper citizens. I was in the militia back in New Ostenso, but I like being a laborer more than a soldier."
Jaxom falls into the familiar rhythm of the smithy, mending and reworking tools for the day to day toils. With the recent additions to the smithy, and to the newly minted glassworks that was joined at the hip, the pace was leisurely. They had plenty of time to work on projects of their own. Though their supplies were so limited now that anything new they worked on needed to be from repurposed steel. They had a small supply come in when Tymos brought some of the wrought iron from the cemetery gates one day. "We didn't need all of it for the prison." he explained, "Not particularly large, but it's serviceable. Let me know if you need any laborers. Preferably hard labor."
Tymos had been losing some of his gruffness lately. It wasn't immediately clear as to why. Though there was obviously a reason.
In the weeks that immediately followed the new villagers moving in and their old shard being taken in by the dragon Talschornvox there were uneventful days. Though days made busy preparing for the coming winter. With the delayed merging of shards this saw the next day of merging coming at the end of winter. Pharasma made an ill omen for a time to merge shards.
"That sounds great. I should have been making some nice soap. That'll make a good present for Jaxom. I could use some too," he says as he bends his face toward his own armpit and sniffs and wrinkles his nose. "Yep, definitely need to make some good soap. Lotion would be good for the skin as well. You know, I had the opportunity to learn under Madam Isabella. She was a soap and candle maker for Lord Aramis a rather fastidious young man who loved to read at night. I don't know how much soap and how many candles we ended up making but it was enough that it helped ease me into the alchemy trade." Kevan says with a smile. "And I thank you for you offer of assistance. Let's go see what lovely smells we can come up with." As he walks off with the kobold he asks, "Do you think musk of troll would be good? It should ward off most threats don't you think?"
"It's magnificent, M'Lady. Your magical talent is impressive," Alden says, not hiding his admiration for the dragon's work. "This might explain something I saw during the last merging. One of the shards had a floating island with a castle upon it. This might explain how that was accomplished. As for us, I must admit I haven't been involved in the etherium research. I have no talent for magic or spell casting, and I have been spending much of my time making sure we have sufficient food and shelter for everyone."
"Thank you for sharing this with me, M'Lady. Is there anything I can share about my life with you? I apologize in advance for any boredom it may cause you."
Milton spends a day or two settling in to his new surroundings. He checks in with the various people in with Tel Beys and let's her know of his talents with paper, pen, cloth and leather as well as his ability to make magic items, arms and armor if giving items of suitable quality.
His first priority is to make a Bookmark of Deception for Talschornvox as a thank you gift for saving him. When completed he will ask Alden for directions to her place to give it to her.
+5 of Crafter's Fortune applies.
He will spend the rest of his time making any masterwork arms or armor magical.
Even in the best of times, Lars did not come across as especially approachable, and as such Timalt's hesitation was understandable. He looked up from his work, the grinding of herbs together to make a poultice, and put it down so he could give the man his full attention. He leaned forward as Timalt began talking, his eyes boring into those of the other.
"It is good that you prefer labor." Lars said, seriously. "I've heard some of what you lot went through. Your militia was necessary. And I hope that men like you. Like us. Continue to defend our community when needed." He went back to grinding the herbs. "Big shot heroes don't exist. They are just something bards sing about to con us out of our coins. But yes, I will do whatever is needed to make this land prosper."
His gaze turning back to his work, he continued "Tell me about your home. The people. What you've been through, and who is playing heroes."
Jaxom is glad to see Tymos with the wrought iron from the cemetery gates.
"Thank you for bringing this. I've asked that any broken tools be brought as well so the materials can be reforged. I know that we will probably need more weapons in the future. But for now my focus is on tools for farming and such, the 'defend against hunger'!"
"The work here at the forge isn't easy. But we couldn't guard any not willing to work. Working at the forge is too dangerous if the person isn't watching what they are doing. And an accident could hurt anyone nearby, not just the person causing it. And we don't have any sort of hospital type services or powerful magical healing if needed."