Soulforge Legacy Series

Xander waited until the door closed behind me before proceeding to open the next one. As soon as he did, voices filled the air.

“And how do you propose we stop these attacks?” Someone growled.

“I don’t care how you do it,” A cloying, nasally voice imperiously called back. “Or do you admit you don’t have the skills to do the job for which you have been elected?”

“Are you saying you can do a better job?” A third, more reasonable person called, cutting off what sounded like the start of a fairly decent roar.

“My job is not to tell you how to…” The cloying voice started, only to be interrupted by the third voice. “No, it is not. So what are you hoping to accomplish here?”

By this point, we had cleared the door enough that I could see the room on the other side. It was massive. Almost as big as the machine floor of my old job, only minus all the machines. Instead, tables and chairs filled the space. While there was a table near the entryway, most of them lined the other three walls. Each of which had at least two people sitting in such a way that they were facing the door.

For a room in the middle of a giant crystal, the lighting was amazing. In fact, it was as I noticed a near lack of shadows that I realized the light didn’t come from any one spot. The crystal structure itself seemed to glow. Almost like it was absorbing the light outside and channeling it into each room.

Without any issues making out what I had to assume was the Council, I found myself a bit overwhelmed by the diversity. Sure, there was a draconic being busy with some paper on his desk, and even a few elves. But the rest were completely unique.

The man currently growling out his frustration looked like he might sprout fur at any moment. While the man next to him had his fangs on full display. Both were glaring at a mousy-faced man.

One that didn’t know when to shut up, apparently. “And if you did your jobs, then I wouldn’t have to say anything.”

“ENOUGH!” An androgynous person with purple fairy wings yelled. “This is getting us nowhere. Alpha Liam, increase the patrols of the surrounding lands. Captain Young, find out where the demons are coming from. Kevin, you will clear the paperwork needed to allow the two of these people to do their jobs.” The mousy man looked like he wanted to argue, but the androgynous person didn’t give them a chance. “Onto the next topic. Justice, tell us about the underground farms.”

What I had assumed was a decorative tree shifted as someone stepped out of it before moving toward the podium in the center of the room. “Our initial tests have been positive. More than positive really. With both technological and magical assistance, each plot of land has managed to produce a full harvest in a quarter of that done with conventional methods. Without any pests, beasts, or extreme weather, the harvest saw no losses.”

“However,” they took a moment before continuing. “The dirt shows signs of minor degradation. It is estimated that we can get two, maybe three harvests before the field has to be left fallow for a season. Two if it does not receive magical assistance. Four if left completely alone.”

Murmured voices filled the chamber as various people, beasts, and otherwise turned to talk to their neighbors. Based on their snippets of conversation, the information presented was not what they had expected. There were even some who questioned the purpose of continuing these experiments.

Finally, a stick-thin woman sitting at one of the left-hand tables spoke up. “What are the chances your teams might be able to find a way to sustain the plots for longer than a season?”

“With our current methods?” He stopped to consult something in front of him. “No chance. However, we do have a plot that we plan to upgrade with a ritual one of our team members recently discovered in an abandoned dwarven town deep in the mountains. Even if it does not produce the results we want, it may lead to insights that we can use to create our own such designs.”

“Good,” the stick-thin woman nods as she looks down at something on the table in front of her. “I expect a full report by week's end. Louis.”

“The city's power infrastructure is under great strain. Every generator has been operating at full capacity for the past week.” This person looked human, though the fairly odd contraption on his head kept catching my eye. Where it had the look of a pair of steampunk goggles, the obvious technological and magical additions were curious. “While we are in the process of bringing the next set of generators online, the projected date for their full integration isn't for at least five weeks.”

“I thought you said they would be ready in time?” While I could hear the speaker clearly, I didn’t manage to catch who it was.

“That would have been the case,” the steampunk human glared at the other side of the room. “IF someone hadn’t stalled the discussions and pushed the project back by two months. You are lucky we managed to get this far, given the delays, issues, and everything else.”

“That budget was overblown and completely ridiculous.” And I thought I was short. A petite man jumped on top of his table as his hands waved around. But even standing on the table, he didn’t look taller than most of the people sitting down. “There are other sources of material. Cheaper ones.”

“Those cheaper sources, as you call them,” he snapped back. “Are impure to the point that we would lose money just getting the material to the point where it can even be used for basic piping. Unless you want the high-pressure steam to find a different way out. Or should we use it for the mana boilers? Surely compressed mana wouldn’t do anything.”

“STOP!” The barked order cut off whatever the short man was about to say. “Louis, what do you need to get the project done before our load exceeds supply?”

“Technically?” He seemed to weigh something before continuing. “The system is ready. Everything we are doing now is testing each system. While it can be skipped, I would highly recommend that we be allowed to finish.”

“Fine.” A soft puff of smoke rose from some sort of serpent in the back. “Orion, is there anything that can be done to mitigate the load, even if temporarily?”

“No and yes.” The short guy pulled a piece of paper off the desk. “Our generating systems are just as taxed as the main city system, if not more so. However, we do have the capacitor banks. While they don’t have the capacity to run the whole city for more than a few seconds at a time, they can help with any spikes. HOWEVER,” he took a second to make sure everyone was listening. “This will degrade the capacitors. We are talking about a week of use before they will need replacing.”

His words caused a stir throughout the room. Xander even looked a bit uncomfortable. In the softest whisper I could manage, I asked Xander about it. “What?”

“Orion is in charge of the city's defensive systems.” So they were powerful, but what did that have to do with power generation? His head shook a bit as if he could tell I was confused. “Think about giant sci-fi guns. No generator can provide the amount of power necessary, so they use giant capacitor banks. He just proposed using those as giant batteries. A move that would damage them as they were never designed for such a use.”

“You seem quite knowledgeable about this subject.” He didn’t respond to my probe.

“Trill, when was the next discussion about the capacitor upgrades scheduled?” The snake called.

To my surprise, the person sitting at the desk nearest the door answered. “Next month.”

“I move to push that date to the end of the week meeting.” He called out. A few others joined in on the motion. “Orion, use the capacitors to support the city. I will work to get you the budget for the planned upgrades ahead of schedule.”

While a few people looked like they wanted to protest, something about his proclamation caused them to hold their tongues. “As the last scheduled discussion point has passed, I would like to open the floor to all those who have come to speak to the council.” After no one objected, Trill continued. “Our first guest is Johannes.”

A man in a cheap suit walked up to the podium. “Hi, my name is Johannes.” He looked uncomfortable as hell. Not that I blamed the poor guy. “I have come to ask for help with the pack of ratkin. They have taken over the basement of the building and are slowly eating away at…”

“This is something for adventurers to deal with.” One of the people on the far side of the chamber called.

“Yes.” Johannes pulled at his collar. “I went to them first, and they said the job is too big and told me to come here.”

“Too big for the adventurers' guild?” A centaur-looking man stomped his hoof. “I highly doubt that. It is more likely they thought you would be unable to afford the price and wanted you out of their hair.”

“If you wish to apply for special exemption and relief, please make an appointment with a Municipal Authority.” Kevin cut in before Johannes could say anything. “Trill, if you would.”

The man slunk away from the podium, defeated. “The executive for the Beacher Clan is here to discuss…”

“I got it, honey.” The next man looked perfectly tailored. Not that I gave him much of a chance based on the looks people were shooting him. “I am here to inform the Council that the Beacher Clan will no longer be paying the City of Gravepoint taxes. Every copper that would have been paid will, instead, be placed into an escrow account until such a time as the Council fulfills its obligations. That is all.”

He moved to step away from the podium only to freeze. “No, I don’t think that is all.” A woman dressed in ice, save for the white flames that danced around the hem of her dress, stepped around her table. Her voice was nearly as cold as the ice covering her, and for a moment, I could have sworn she looked directly at me. “You cannot just walk in here and tell us, the Council, what you will and will not do. At least, not without good reason.”

Her gliding strides carried her close enough for the bottom of the dress to brush over his dress shoes. They started to curl and peel apart even as they froze. A single nail ran along his cheek, leaving a trail of ice in its wake.

“Do you have a good reason?”

“The…the…”

“Yes?”

“The Council has f..f..failed t…t…to keep d…d…demons from d…d…destroying our f…f…factories. Our C…C…Clan has lost n…n…nearly everyth…th…thing.”

“Ah,” instead of pulling away as I expected, her hand wrapped around the side of his face. The long fingers managed to reach the back of his head even as her palm sat against his lips. “Well, not everything.”

Before he could say anything, ice exploded out of her hand. Not in a spike, but in a wave of cold that froze anything it touched. Not even a dozen seconds later, he was little more than an ice statue in the shape of a man. Clothes and all.

As she made her way back to her desk, she called out to someone. “Be sure to return him to his clan.” Five people clad in armor rushed into the area from somewhere. They didn’t dawdle in picking up the man before once again vanishing.

“Trill.” While I heard someone call for the next person, it didn’t really register.

“Kai Ravenwood, Shadow Blade Guild Lieutenant. Here to answer a Council Summons regarding his recent actions inside the Kingdom’s Protected Zone.” It wasn’t until Xander moved toward the podium that I realized he was the one being called. But his name wasn’t Kai. Or was it?

The dragon called him by that name, so maybe it was the name he put in when he first started playing? As for Ravenwood, that was his last name. And while I knew he was in a guild, I didn’t realize he was a Lieutenant. Though it should have been a bit obvious, especially after the spy in the hallway.

“Do you know why you have been summoned to appear before this Council?” A completely neutral voice called from one of the tables.