When they brought back the cartload of artifacts and books to load aboard the ship, Calto picked out one to trade for. Some sort of crystal cylinder that she had no idea what it was even used for. It did not even appear magical in any way.
“What even is this?” Keolah wondered as she handed it over.
“I have no idea,” Calto admitted. “But I think it’s a focusing device.”
“You think,” Keolah repeated.
Calto shrugged. “It will be interesting to study.”
Sarom counted out a handful of scraps of paper with markings on them and passed them over to Keolah. “There you go.”
“What’s this?” Keolah wondered, peering at them. They were written in gnomish. “I can’t read this. What does it mean?”
“That’s money,” Sarom said.
“Money?” Keolah raised an eyebrow. “It’s paper.”
“Would you prefer elven currency?” Sarom asked. “I figured since you were going to Mithim, you’d want to skip having to exchange your money once you got there.”
Keolah worked up her face. “Why do gnomes use paper as money? Doesn’t it just fall apart? Especially if it gets wet?”
“What?” Sarom said. “No, it’s good cloth paper, not news leaf. Very sturdy. Much more convenient for carrying around than coins.”
“So how much is this worth?” Keolah wondered.
“One hundred dollars,” Sarom said. “That’s approximately fifteen gold and some change. I’ve already deducted the cost of your passage and meals aboard ship. I’d prefer not to haggle. I gave you a fair price up front. I didn’t figure you wanted to argue about it.”
“No, no, I’m not arguing,” Keolah said. “Just confused. Your price is more than generous. I’ve just never seen paper money before.”
“Ah, I see,” Sarom said. “Well, be assured that it’s good across all of Mithim, Tregas Valley, and the endless Plains. The purple ones are twenty dollars, the blue ones ten, green five, yellow are one dollar bills, and the red ones are a quarter dollar.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” Keolah said. “I can’t read gnomish. Or speak it, for that matter. Actually, I don’t think any of us can.”
“Might want to invest in translator amulets once we arrive in Habag, then,” Sarom said. “There’ll be people who speak elvish there, but it would make it a lot easier.”
“Yeah, good idea,” Keolah said.
The gnomish steamship wasn’t nearly as bad as Keolah had feared. Then again, since they’d sailed from Fehndarlai to Scalyr and from Scalyr to Dorgada, by this point she was fairly certain that it wasn’t going to spontaneously decide to sink just because she’d gotten aboard. She knew nothing about steam engines or propellers or gears and gizmos, and frankly it was not the sort of thing she was interested in, but it seemed to get the job done well enough even without magic.
Sedder still didn’t like sea travel. Kithere offered up a prayer to Valissa for safe passage before they left, but he didn’t really see the point. The sea goddess hated him anyway. Hawthorne had decided that she liked traveling by steamship, and wouldn’t shut up about it. It admittedly beat asshole humans who took their money and their stuff and turned them over to trolls.
Everyone but the captain wore goggles, although most of those kept them on their heads a lot of the time. Hawthorne got her hands on a pair of them and tried them on.
“The goggles do nothing!” Hawthorne declared. “Why do you even wear them?”
“So we don’t go blind,” a pink-haired gnome replied, snatching them back.
“Is that really a danger?” Hawthorne asked.
“Sometimes,” the gnome said.
Much of the crew habitually used handtalk to communicate, and Sedder soon realized that at least three of the gnomes who worked below decks with the machinery were almost completely deaf. Others wore protective earmuffs when working with the engines, so they might as well be deaf a lot of the time down there. How that worked when they needed to have their hands on an important piece of equipment was beyond him, but they seemed to manage well enough.
“I need to learn gnomish obscene gestures,” Hawthorne declared.
Keolah sighed and chuckled. “Of course you do.”
Hawthorne’s first attempts to learn a bit of gnomish handtalk were hampered by the fact that she kept asking the hearing-impaired gnomes about it, and then by that most of the rest of the gnomes didn’t speak elvish very well. Their conversation options were, sadly, primarily restricted to Calto and Sarom Zenk. That didn’t stop Hawthorne from continually bugging them into teaching her how to say a few things in handtalk, and not even just obscene things, either.
“Think about how convenient this could be!” Hawthorne said.
<Learning Mind Magic would be more convenient,> Sedder tepped in exasperation.
Hawthorne jumped in startlement. “Oh, come on, stay out of my head.”
“I’m not ‘in’ your head,” Sedder said. “Telepathic communication is completely non-invasive. I’m not reading your mind. I’m just doing the mental equivalent of making noise at you.”
Hawthorne grunted. “It’s still weird.”
“And gnomes making gestures isn’t?” Sedder raised an eyebrow. “I have to wonder why they even bother and don’t just all learn Mind Magic. It would leave their hands free to work.”
“Learning Mind Magic isn’t nearly as simple or easy as just learning gestures,” Calto said. “Some do, though.”
Sedder grunted. He was probably biased. Teppers could all instinctively use Mind Magic to some degree, not as an inborn but as a racial ability, much like zephyli and floka could probably all use Wind Magic just so they could fly at all. But teppers didn’t talk about themselves outside of tepper-only areas, so he kept quiet about that. People could just think he was a typical half-elf who knew Illusion and Mind Magic, not an unusual combination, and not a half-tepper who had gained the Mind Magic part solely by virtue of his blood and not any sort of training whatsoever.
“So, you’re an… elf/human cross?” Sarom asked him.
Sedder nodded. Close enough. Teppers could probably be considered a sub-race of humans, after all.
“Met a few of your sort in Hannaderres,” Sarom said. “Most half-elves I’ve seen were half-gnome or half-dwarf though. Guess that’s to be expected. Spent most of my life in Zarhanna, after all, and there’s not exactly many humans up this way.”
“Are there a lot of half-gnomes and half-dwarves?” Sedder asked.
“Oh, plenty,” Sarom said. “Especially around the Valley of Gal, where you lot are heading. Most of the elves that live in Mithim can be found there.”
“You’ve been there?” Sedder asked.
“Who hasn’t?” Sarom said. “You’re practically not a gnome if you haven’t been to Gal at some point in your life.”
“What’s it like?” Sedder wondered.
“You should really see it for yourself,” Sarom said. “I don’t think I can do it justice. It’s magnificent.”
“More so than Dorgada?” Sedder asked.
Sarom scoffed. “Dorgada doesn’t hold a candle to it. You’ll see. You’ll see.”
Along the journey, they spent some time cataloguing the Astanic books, sorting out all thirty-seven of them and making notes as to which one contained what subject matter. Even if they couldn’t translate the meat of them, they could at least figure out what they were. They’d converted one cabin of the ship into a makeshift library. The gnomish crew stopped by now and then as a curiosity, but as none of them could actually read even a little bit of the trollish language, they couldn’t really do much more than look and peruse the haphazard, incomplete translations that Yennik had managed. Judging by what could be translated, the books boasted a dazzling array of magical topics, some of which were on subjects long since lost or forgotten.
“And you can’t do anything about the magical terminology,” Keolah said.
Yennik shook his head. “Not a thing. I don’t recognize a single one of those words.”
“And you’re not lying again,” Sedder said dryly. “For the sake of keeping ancient arcane knowledge to yourself.”
Yennik snickered. “Not this time. Believe me, I wish I could translate this stuff.”
Silver, for his part, seemed miserable, despite the large quantities of gnomish ale aboard their ship. Sedder wasn’t sure if it was because he’d been forced to talk about Sardill, or if he was still uncomfortable about Sedder’s presence. Either way, he avoided the man. Best to give him space, he figured reluctantly. Not that he thought it was even helping. Silver seemed to have a number of unresolved issues, and Sedder had to wonder why he was even along on this journey, even if his presence had been useful. No, Narcella’s presence had been useful. Silver just drank up all their money. He didn’t think Narcella would have come along without Silver, though.
Pity they’d been driven out of Dorgada so quickly. He would have liked to stick around and break into a few places to see what sort of treasures he could acquire. Maybe even find some of those books Keolah wanted so badly. Hopefully people wouldn’t be quite so prejudiced in gnomish lands. For all he knew, though, they could be worse. There probably wasn’t a Seeker aboard the Careful. The gnomes here didn’t know what color his aura was. Nor did they seem to notice that a horse had approached the ship, but there was a boy with straw-colored hair aboard instead. The gnomes didn’t seem to realize that sort of coloration was unusual for humans, at any rate. Then again, no one seemed nearly as concerned about shapeshifters in Zarhanna as they did in Kalor. And no one seemed especially concerned about necromancers in Kalor. All in all, Zarhanna was not a place he would choose to vacation again if he could help it.
Meanwhile, Sedder took an opportunity to glean as much information as he could about the pocket-world. Keolah was attempting to reconstruct her notes about it from memory, but without being able to recall the specific runes, all this amounted to was general diagrams of the layout of the arcane structure.
“I was able to bring up a good replica of it in the dream with the Tin’dari I spoke with,” Keolah grumbled. “But I haven’t been able to replicate that. I don’t know how to create that sort of dream on my own.”
Calto came up to Sedder along with a pink-haired gnome. “There you are, Sedder. Betig here wanted to meet you when he heard you were a Mind Mage.”
Betig tepped a word to him that Sedder didn’t understand, but got the general impression was a greeting.
“Sedder, meet Betig Canthearmyselfthinkwithallthisnoise,” Calto said. “Betig, meet Sedder. Do you have a last name?”
“Yes, but I don’t use it,” Sedder said.
“Ah, okay,” Calto said.
A flood of words and images rushed through Sedder’s mind. He gripped his head. “Stop. I can’t keep up.”
Calto spoke a few words in gnomish to Betig, who let up on the telepathic contact. Sedder wasn’t even sure how well telepathy could work between two beings who didn’t speak a common language, but he supposed they might be able to manage, if the gnome didn’t flood him so much. He already had a bit of a headache.
Sedder tentatively made his own telepathic contact with the gnome, sending over images, emotions, impressions, not even bothering with words. Betig started off replying overly eagerly, but Sedder gestured frantically at him and he backed off again and slowed down. Sedder had never attempted to communicate with someone whose language he didn’t speak before. He was wondering if this discomfort was more from that, or from that Betig was kind of bad at this and had very little restraint. How did he not give his fellow crewmates headaches? Maybe they were used to it, or it was easier because they were the same race or could speak the same language. Communicating by pictures and feelings was hard. People sometimes romanticized telepathy as being this deep, meaningful communication beyond need for words, but that simply wasn’t true in practice.
The two of them sat down across from one another and spent a while attempting to communicate. It wasn’t too bad when they stuck to purely images. Emotions were difficult to parse between strangers, and Sedder didn’t have enough internal control over his emotions to send Betig anything but what he was actually feeling at the moment anyway. Which was primarily frustration and annoyance.
“Well,” Sedder finally said aloud, rubbing his head and standing up. “This has been a fascinating exercise, but I think that’s enough for now.” He sent Betig a series of images indicating stopping and parting ways.
Betig got the hint, and tepped a single word in gnomish accompanied by an image of a closing door, and went off.
Sighing, Sedder went off himself to locate Kithere. “Hey, Kit,” he said. “I don’t suppose you can cure telepathy-induced headaches?”
“Sailing is pretty sweet,” Hawthorne said, then paused thoughtfully. “Is it really still sailing if the ship doesn’t have any sails?”
Calto chuckled. “You can still say that, yeah. In gnomish, we say ‘plin’. Which is also the same word as ‘to swim’.”
“Doesn’t that get confusing?” Hawthorne asked.
“Not really, no,” Calto said.
“But then how would you differentiate between saying ‘I like swimming’ and ‘I like sailing’?”
“There’s a different word for that,” Calto said. “A ship ‘swims’, but the activity of sailing is called ‘zheglarto’.”
“I see,” Hawthorne said. “Though I imagine saying that a ship that paddles is ‘swimming’ might be accurate enough, too.”
“Kind of, I guess,” Calto said. “It’s a screw propeller, though, not a paddle wheel.”
“Whatever,” Hawthorne said.
“It’s brand new technology,” Calto said. “The first of her kind. Paddle steamers tend to stick to the coasts and rivers, but with this innovation, I think we can finally replace sails for ocean-going travel.”
An explosion split the air.
“Probably,” Calto said, setting off at a dead run in the direction of the sound.
Hawthorne ran off on his heels, putting up a shield around herself. Smoke choked the room Calto ran into, and something was on fire. Hawthorne quickly erected airtight wards around the fire and looked around at the damage.
Kithere stormed into the room in a panic right behind Hawthorne. “What’s going on?” Without even stopping for an answer, she rushed over to the injured crew members with hands glowing white and started healing them.
“Did the engine blow up?” Hawthorne asked.
“No, no,” Calto assured her. “That was a completely unimportant piece of equipment.” He launched into a string of babble in gnomish.
“I don’t speak gnomish!” Hawthorne snapped.
“Never mind!” Calto yelled. “Let me clear this smoke out of here…”
Calto started using Wind Magic to force the smoke outside and clear up the cabin. Starved of air between Hawthorne’s wards, the fire quickly burned itself out.
“This man needs healing over here,” Calto called over to Kithere, indicating a purple-haired gnome.
“I know,” Kithere said, not looking up from the blue-haired one she was working on. “I ran a diagnostic spell the minute I came into the room. This woman is more badly injured and will die if I don’t heal her first. The others will survive a bit longer.”
“I’ll defer to your expertise, then,” Calto said.
That didn’t stop the purple-haired man from screaming at the top of his lungs until Kithere finished stabilizing the woman she was working on, plus two other gnomes, before finally getting to him.
“Oh, stop crying,” Kithere muttered. “Your injuries are superficial.”
Calto didn’t bother to translate for her. “Will everyone be alright?”
Kithere nodded. “They’ll be fine. I’ve got them all stable and I’ll work on finishing patching them up as I regenerate mana.”
“We’re not dead in the water with whatever that was blown up, are we?” Hawthorne asked.
“Don’t worry,” Calto said. “Like I said, it’s completely unimportant to the function of the ship. I tried to explain to you what it did.”
“Never mind,” Hawthorne said. “I’ll take your word on that. So long as we can get into port still, I don’t have to care about the details of your doohickies.”
“We can get to the port,” Calto said. “We just wouldn’t really want to go out into the open ocean.”
“I thought you said it was completely unimportant?” Hawthorne glared at him.
“To the function of the ship!” Calto said.
“Navigation isn’t a function of the ship?” Hawthorne narrowed her eyes.
“The ship can still sail just fine,” Calto said. “Provided we stay close to the coast. Which is what we’re doing.”
“And here you were saying that this brand new scoopeller—”
“—screw propeller,” Calto corrected her.
“—would replace sails for ocean travel,” Hawthorne said.
Calto groused, “It may have a few kinks to work out first.”
“A few kinks?” Hawthorne raised an eyebrow. “It has kinks to work out like an dwarven dominatrix!”
“I’m not sure what that word means…” Calto said.
“Never mind!” Hawthorne exclaimed.
The steamship had to sail around an artificial reef of sorts that was apparently the remains of Dherdem. When they arrived in Habag, Keolah could readily see why the previous city had fallen into the sea. Half of the city was floating out in the water, and every last part of it seemed to be moving. Giant gears and wheels turned and spun. Tubes and chimneys spewed smoke and steam into the sky. Constant sounds of whirring and rattling echoed out over the water as they came in to dock.
“Does the name Habag mean something in gnomish?” Keolah wondered.
“It means ‘Dontdrown’,” Calto cheerfully explained.
If Keolah had thought Dorgada was overwhelming, it had not at all prepared her for Habag. While the city might not be as large, nor containing nearly as many excessively tall buildings, in a way it seemed more alive despite the fact that more of it was made of metal rather than wood. The gnomes were bright, cheerful, and welcoming, even if she didn’t understand a word they were saying at first. And then when they realized she didn’t understand a word they were saying, they helpfully directed her to a shop selling translation amulets. They were cheap enough here and Sarom had given them plenty of money, so Keolah just bought one for each of them.
“Huzzah, I can speak gnomish now!” Hawthorne exclaimed. “Wait, this doesn’t cover handtalk, does it.”
“Only verbal communication, sorry,” the gnomish shopkeeper replied.
“Man, you sneaky gnomes,” Hawthorne said with a smirk. “Alright then, I’ll just have to learn it anyway.”
“Good luck, miss,” the shopkeeper said flatly.
“I’m going to be heading with you up to the Valley of Gal,” Calto told them.
“What about your ship?” Keolah asked.
“We’ll be staying in port for the time being to do some crew changes and make some repairs,” Sarom said.
“Repairs?” Keolah repeated.
“Yes, we had a slight explosion on the way over,” Sarom said. “Nothing to worry about, though.”
“A slight explosion,” Keolah said dubiously. “I didn’t hear anything. Oh… wait, we’d sound-warded our cabins. Um.”
“Nothing to worry about,” Sarom insisted.
“And shouldn’t the ship’s chief engineer be with it to do repairs?” Keolah asked.
“They’ll be fine,” Calto said.
“He’s blowing off his duties in order to find out about what you’re studying,” Sarom said.
Calto snorted softly. “You said it would be fine. Besides, there’s nothing I’m really needed for here. If everyone manages to screw it up while I’m gone somehow, I’ll just fix it when I get back. Maybe you should come with us, too. It might have a lower chance of exploding again if you weren’t around.”
Sarom glared at him. “I wasn’t the one who miscalibrated the—”
The two of them launched into a high-speed bout of gnomish technical terminology. Despite the new translator amulet supposedly being capable of interpreting what they were saying for her, none of it made any sense regardless. Keolah sighed and turned away.
After a few minutes of that, Sarom turned back to her, clearing his throat. “Sorry about that. At any rate, we’ll be going through a number of crew changes, repairs, and refitting. By and large, our test run was a success. Mostly.”
“Right. Mostly,” Keolah said. “Maybe it’s just as well that I spent most of the trip inside studying…”
“Your sister was invaluable, by the way,” Sarom said. “Thanks to her, we didn’t lose anyone. A Healer should really be standard crew at all times. We ought to see if we can find one that’s available so long as we’re in port.”
“So, how are we going to get to the Valley of Gal?” Keolah asked. “Purchase another cart, walk, or what?”
“Oh, no no no,” Calto said. “We’re going to take a train!”
Keolah winced. “Okay, sure.”
“You don’t like trains?” Calto asked.
“Well, the last time I rode one, I had a slave collar on my neck and I had no idea where I was going,” Keolah said.
“Oh,” Calto said. “Well, that’s unfortunate. Rest assured, slavery is illegal in Mithim.”
“Good to know,” Keolah said. “I wish I’d been able to get straight to Mithim in the first place like I’d originally planned on.”
“You should have come with us,” Calto said brightly.
“Yeah, seems like,” Keolah said. “Hawthorne got impatient and insisted on getting a ship in Starton instead of going all the way back to Scalyr. Big mistake.”
“Was Starton that bad?” Calto asked. “Beyond the whole ‘selling you into slavery’ thing.”
Keolah shrugged. “Delven had nothing good to say about the place. I don’t know, myself. I didn’t speak their language.”
“Ah, yeah, that’s in Flyland, right?” Calto said. “Why didn’t you just buy a translation amulet?”
“I didn’t really think of it,” Keolah said. “I’d imagine they’re a lot rarer and more expensive in Kalor. I didn’t realize they even existed at the time, though.”
At least up until Sedder ‘acquired’ one from questionable sources. She’d hoped to put him to use back in Dorgada, but things hadn’t worked out to where that plan was feasible. Now that they were in Habag, that might be another matter. Keolah bid good day to the gnomes and went off to find Sedder.
Sedder addressed her in common. “Think anyone might accuse me of being a necromancer and drive me out of town here?”
“I don’t know,” Keolah said. “Let me see if I can spot any Seekers.”
She scanned the crowds. Most of the auras were small, gnome-sized, although there were still a fair number of elf-sized auras, as well as some stocky ones slightly taller than a gnome that she realized belonged to dwarves after spotting one with her bare eyes. Shades of blue, red, green, purple, scattered about the city, a rainbow of mana amidst the occasional enchanted object. There were fewer enchanted things here than there were in Dorgada, making it easier to see and pick out auras. Blue was by far the most common color of aura in the area.
“I’m not seeing any,” Keolah said. “There’s a disproportionately large number of Water Mages here. And quite a few with Security, too.” She chuckled.
“How many auras can you make out at any given moment, though?” Sedder asked. “I’m sure there’s got to be at least one somewhere in the city who can read auras.”
“Maybe,” Keolah said. “I don’t really know how it works for most people, though. Zarine spotted you from a mile away, to be sure. But can most Seekers just see auras without even thinking about it?”
“That’s a good point,” Sedder said. “Usually, someone who isn’t an inborn mage isn’t using their magic all the time, I’d think. A non-inborn Seeker probably has to concentrate on what they’re trying to read, and most people just aren’t going to bother scanning the auras of every single person who walks past. Hawthorne’s the only inborn Warder I’ve known. Most Warders actually have to consciously turn their wards on. Hawthorne’s seem to be on all the time whether she’s thinking about it or not.”
“True,” Keolah said. “I guess Dorgada was a big enough city that out of everyone, there was a good chance of there being at least one inborn Seeker around.”
“So, are we staying in Habag long, or just hopping on the first train to Gal?” Sedder asked.
“Let’s book a room at an inn and stick around a few days, at least,” Keolah said. “So long as we’re here…”
“You want me to look around,” Sedder inferred.
Keolah nodded. “Let’s see what we can find out, shall we?”
“Can do,” Sedder said.
Habag was so noisy that Sedder thought he might as well not have bothered with the sound muffling spells to sneak around with. Nobody would have heard him anyway. Still, he cloaked himself in shadow as he always did, and no one was going to see, hear, or smell him unless they were a Seeker. And if an inborn Seeker were around here somewhere, he was probably screwed anyway.
Sedder’s attempts at sneaking around Habag quickly ran afoul of the fact that it was built for people half his size. While the docks, shops, and inns were constructed with the intention of elf-sized people having access, most of the homes and apartments were much smaller. He stood invisible outside a gnomish apartment building, feeling quite silly at the fact that he was unable to even fit in the front door. Did the gnomes who lived here never have elven guests? Or did they just meet them somewhere outside their home?
He hated the water. Habag’s creaky metal catwalks weren’t nearly enough security between him and a sudden dip in the ocean, especially when they were meshes he could see right through.
A sign shaped like an open book hung outside a building on an upper floor. A creaky set of stairs led up past a drink shop and to the front. The doors to the bookstore whooshed open on their own when he approached. He was never going to get used to that. He had no idea how the gnomes were used to that. Whatever sensors the damned thing used even saw past his invisibility, making the whole sneaking effort utterly pointless. Here he’d been concerned about Seekers, and hadn’t considered enchantments. Idiot.
A purple-haired gnome came up to the door and peered about outside. “Stupid door is malfunctioning again. Gonna need to get Tigo to take a look at the enchantments.”
So long as the door was open, Sedder slipped inside, careful not to bump into the shopkeeper. If the gnome was going to attribute the door’s opening when nobody was outside to a malfunction, then getting out of here again shouldn’t raise any suspicion.
The store boasted a disappointing selection of books. At first, all he could see was fiction, primarily steamy romance novels with half-naked gnomes draped on the covers. Making a face, Sedder moved further back into the aisles. The place was cramped, without much room between the aisles, but at least it was tall enough for him to walk comfortably. In fact, the bookshelves had been built so tall that ladders had been provided for gnomes to reach the upper shelves.
Sedder really didn’t think he was going to find any rare books in a public bookstore. At least, up until he spotted a locked door leading into a back room. With a grin, he crouched down to take a closer look. Not magically locked. That might be disappointing, but there ought to be at least something back there. Like, more stock of romance novels that hadn’t been put on the shelves yet, most likely.
After a minute of telekinetically manipulating the lock, the door opened silently under a careful illusion. Most of the books in the back room were stuffed in boxes, some of which were still sealed. He didn’t want to disturb the ones that were sealed, but he did start sifting through the boxes that were open. While some of them were indeed more trashy fiction, one box caught his attention. history books. He pulled out one titled The Wizards Who Were: How the Trolls Lost Their Magic. Keolah might be interested in this. Well. She might be interested in buying it, but he wasn’t going to do that. If she didn’t want him stealing things, she shouldn’t have told him to go steal things. Right. It was kind of weird working with someone who didn’t disapprove of his methods, who he hadn’t explicitly met through criminal contacts in the first place.
Once the troll book was secure in his pack, Sedder continued to look around. He didn’t think he really had time to thoroughly peruse this place, and still didn’t think it likely to run into anything really valuable in a store like this, so he decided not to waste too much more time on it. Perhaps he could find a bookstore catering more toward old or rare books instead of the latest tale of torrid love affairs between a gnome and a dwarf.
The store had a back door tucked behind a pile of crates, probably for deliveries, but he wasn’t quite sure how anyone would manage to get in and out of here. It might have been more useful to try to find a back door in the first place than to just walk in the front, but then, he hadn’t expected the front door to just slide open when he got near it, either. After popping open another lock, he slipped out the back. The shopkeeper would figure out that he was robbed after finding the doors unlockeded, but it would take too long to try to reset them. By the time he noticed, if he noticed at all, Sedder would be long gone. Habag was a big enough city and saw enough traffic by land and by sea that one could get lost in the crowd and not be immediately suspected as the culprit behind any crimes that happened to be committed shortly after arriving in town.
The walkways behind the bookstore were older and even more rickety than the ones out front. The metal creaked ominously as he climbed down into the alleys. Oh, Abyss, no. With a bang, the catwalk gave way. Sedder frantically scrambled for purchase as the floor fell out from under him.
After slipping and tumbling down what must have been three storeys worth of scaffolding, Sedder found himself laying flat on his back, slightly stunned, in someplace dark and cold. And damp. Mustn’t forget damp.
Groaning, Sedder wiped his face and tried to orient himself and figure out where he was. Somewhere in the city’s underworks, he could only assume. No sense in bothering with stealth at the moment. He dropped his illusions and conjured up several small lights to see by. They floated out around his body and illuminated his immediate surroundings. He stood on a metal mesh platform but a scant few inches above the level of the churning, dark seawater. Barnacles clung to a massive metal post, probably one of the supports that kept the city from sinking. Strands of plant matter hung from the struts around him, as well as a number of traps that appeared to be intended to catch some sort of animals around the size of his head. None of them were filled at the moment.
Waves lapped at his feet through the walkway. Just what he needed today, boots full of seawater. Shaking himself out, he looked around for a way up. Someone logically must come down here to check the traps regularly. But if they were meant to catch some sort of sea creature, this level was likely completely submerged during high tide. The twisted and broken pieces of a staircase hung askew partway in the water. Sedder wasn’t sure if he wanted to trust it to get up even as far as it went. What was left of it seemed likely to collapse without warning.
And the water was slowly rising. He might just have to risk it. Damn it. carefully, trying to avoid jostling it suddenly too much, he made his way up the crooked stairs. He made it up most of one flight before it tilted suddenly. He grabbed at a ledge as the staircase shifted at an angle, and managed to pull himself up onto a support beam. How had this city not sunk into the sea entirely by this point? Then he remembered the ruins of Dherdem across the bay, and paled a bit, revising the thought.
Straining at the effort, Sedder began to climb, channeling a bit of Wind Magic to assist himself with it. He wasn’t nearly strong enough to actually support himself or really lift much weight, but he could use it to help him grip surfaces and climb things that would otherwise be physically difficult to manage. He’d always wanted to be able to climb straight up sheer walls and hang from ceilings like a spider, but he’d never been nearly good enough with it for that.
Thankfully, nothing else broke loose and fell down while Sedder was climbing back up again, but he didn’t relax and breathe easily until he was up top and safely ensconced at the inn.
“You’re all wet!” Hawthorne exclaimed.
“A bit,” Sedder grumbled as an inn employee wordlessly ran after him and made the water he was dripping on the floor vanish. Sedder nodded gratefully to the young man.
“What happened?” Keolah asked.
Sedder growled, “What happened is that this insane, tangled mess of gnomish contraptions is in danger of falling into the sea without warning at any given moment.”
None of the gnomes within earshot even batted an eye at his rant.
“Is it that bad?” Keolah raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Sedder grated out.
“I suppose we could head out first thing in the morning, then,” Keolah said. “I looked at the train schedules, and they seem to run every day.”
“I’m not sure that I would trust their trains, either, but whatever,” Sedder said. “Let’s go.”
He gestured to her to follow him to speak in private, and once they were out of earshot of anyone and he’d made sure to put up a quick sound ward, he pulled out the book he’d stolen for her. It was undamaged, thanks primarily to the fact that his pack had waterproofing enchantments on it. One didn’t live in a city down by the water for long without considering such precautions.
“That’s the best I can do,” Sedder said in common.
“Oh, now this looks interesting,” Keolah said, opening it up to flip through it briefly.
“I didn’t have a chance to go look more thoroughly or for anything more rare,” Sedder said. “Though I will try if you insist.” He sighed.
“I didn’t realize this place was that dangerous,” Keolah said.
“I almost drowned!” Sedder cried.
“I can see how the city got its name, then…”
“Damned gnomes…” Sedder muttered.
Ugh. His fingers hurt. He would like nothing better than to put them all to bed, each of them laying out on a tiny, fluffy pillow of its own.