Book 4, Chapter 57: The Rolling Hills of Cascadia

Book 4, Chapter 57: The Rolling Hills of Cascadia

After things calmed down, the party decided to push forward to the end of the Redwood since we were already most of the way there. Not that I was complaining, since there was a nice little bonus at the end of it for me!

*Bing!*

This Ability is always available.

Accept [Minor Health Boost]?

Yes/No

I stared at the options morosely. “These suck.”

“Of course they suck! You didn’t exactly get here on your own!” Flowerpott mocked. “It’s practically a gimmie Milestone just because they set the rules up that way! Your first time to a dungeon teleportation location, and you get a Milestone, no matter how you got there.”

“It wasn’t that easy,” I shot back.

“Oh yes, that’s right. You were forced to set all those innocent forest gnomes on fire.” Aishablue hissed.

“They were trying to bite my knees off!”

“You had tha’ literal boss of tha’ zone escortin’ you here.” Balin grumbled. “Yer lucky you got anything.”

Deathbringer stepped backwards, doing his best impression of a wall. He’d been a massive boon to our trip through the Redwood, as most monsters just ran away at his approach. The few times I’d seen him in combat, he’d been a lot like Balin. He used a big wooden club, and a new Ability that released a tsunami of water from it when he swung. He also had a [Knight]’s [Heroic Moment], and with the addition of all the Mana packed into him now that he was a boss, his pure stats were higher than anybody else in the party.

I considered it for a short while, but none of the Abilities really spoke to me other than [Fetch Friend], which could be amusing, and had the potential to save my life in dangerous situations. I imagined snapping my fingers at the tavern, saying ‘Oh Waiter!’ and teleporting Aqua to the table. I chuckled as I selected it and stretched as the feeling of gaining a new Ability washed over me.

After all the events of the past couple years I was really starting to get partial to the idea of a vacation. Just… travel the world, enjoy some exotic locales, and get some serious rest.

Just me and… hmmm… maybe Mirelda would like to come. She could use the vacation too, and didn’t authors write their best while travelling? We could relax on the Eastern beaches, or go on a safari in South Erden. I really enjoyed spending time with her at the Briar Rose cafe, so it seemed a nice fit. Now that I thought about it, the two of us really had the most in common of all the displaced Chosen. We both were married with a kid, died in our middle age, were ‘artistes’ of a sort, loved reading and rock music –

“Alright everyone,” Starshine chided, breaking me from my reverie. “Let’s have a cheer! We’re the first team through to the first teleportation zone in Cascadia!”

She swept her arms wide as we all hooted and hollered, taking in the building we were in and our general surroundings. We were in a plain gazebo at the foot of an enormous waterfall at the edge of the Cedarwood and the mountains. It bore a striking resemblance to a certain gazebo I’d seen while I was up on the Godly black mountain. The waterfall itself was nearly a carbon copy of the good side of Niagara Falls.

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That was the Canadian side, in case it wasn’t clear.

All the Mana in the surrounding area flowed into and through the gazebo, enabling the installation of a Teleportation Circle even without the use of a Worldstone. It would only connect within the dungeon, but it was still a vital part of a dungeon’s infrastructure.

“Extremely odd geography around here,” Flowerpott commented. “Are those feet?” He pointed at the closest low-lying mountains.

I squinted. They did indeed look like giant toes, curling up out of the ground like the feet of a dozen sleeping giants. A flock of something fluttered in a swarm in the distance, flowing over the ground like a teeming cloud of golden flies.

I grinned. “Of course. Haven’t you heard of foothills?”

“Gods. A nightmare. This dungeon is a nightmare,” Aishablue muttered. “Or I’ve died and this is the Nether.”

“What this is, is the end of our contract, Peter,” Starshine said. “We’ll need to notify the guild that we’ve found the first teleportation point, and they’ll be sending in [Enchanters] to do the work. And then that’ll be that. They’ll start leaning real hard on you to open up to the public. Especially for new adventurers. Like I said, Cascadia is nearly a perfect starting dungeon, especially if you can get a door up in another major city.”

“Aye! Especially with Anima Dungeon still closed up.” Balin agreed. “I know a buncha adventurers that’re getting of a mind ta take the old road to Kinshasa just so’s they can start accessin’ dungeons again.”

“What should I do about the beaven?” I asked. Deathbringer’s ears perked up, and he waddled over to listen in.

Starshine gave him a concerned look. “As dungeon owner you do have the right to set some no-go zones. We’ll report that the boss is a ‘Beaven’ and that it’s in a protected zone. The guild won’t like it, but there’s not much they can do about it. Setting up protected areas in dungeons are a requirement by the various countries to allow the guild to shove their nose into everything. Nobody can access Honey Hole to kill the Queen Bee in Hive, for example. Poachers will

“I will deal with them if they choose to be trouble,” Deathbringer growled.

Starshine shrugged. “The penalty for trespassing in protected dungeon zones is death in some of the human Kingdoms. I doubt you’ll hear any complaints. Word of the beaven will spread eventually, but we can buy you time.”

I spun through memories of my time in the library with Richter, practically an age ago. “It’s just a fine in Crack. And some time in a reform mine.”

Balin shivered. “It’s ‘mandated regrowing time’ in Awemedinand.”

I considered what that meant and shivered as well. Elves.

“Either way. We won’t be going any further.” Starshine said with a commanding tone. “We’ve done more than enough for now, so we’ll be taking a break for a week. At the minimum!”

“Vacation!!!” Raysdotter crowed. “I’m going to be spending all the gold Pete has to pay for that boss core!”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me,” I groaned. “And I need to send word of all this to Duke Schist right away. Probably with a lotta alcohol.”

“Then let’s head back, I want a Bran made meal!” Balin announced, as we turned around and began the trek back.

“What are your plans now?” I asked Deathbringer.

“We will busy ourrselves with the rrebuilding of our village, and the making of syrup,” he said after some consideration.

“Real industrious, aren’t you,” I chuckled.

Deathbringer quirked an ear. “This amuses you?”

“Ah, no. It’s just a saying back from where I’m from. Busy as a beave – er, beaven.”

He nodded. “We are indeed busy. All beaven love to worrk with their paws and their teeth and their tails. It is part of who we arre. Your syrup has been wonderful in that rregard. Much for us to do and the rreward of a delicious treat.”

I considered the big guy, a crazy, marvelous idea starting to take form in my head. I even threw a [Flash of Insight] at it to help the idea along. We’d been having trouble with getting enough beer out the door. We needed extra help to make syrup but didn’t want to bring in any more outsiders. Oh, and I really wanted to start making some wine in secret.

And the beaven loved to work…

My train of thought was interrupted as Raysdotter began shouting and swearing. We all jumped immediately into motion, Balin and Flowerpott running to surround me, while Starshine sprinted forward and Aishablue began casting a spell.

Raysdotter lifted her spear and thrust it into the dirt at her foot. There was a burst of soil and a flat grey cylindrical monster burst out. It looked almost like a basketball sized can of hairy tuna, but with a wide mouth full of dull teeth. Raysdotter’s spear pierced right through its center, and it squeaked and burbled as purple goo seeped out from between its teeth.

It twitched a few more times, then lay still. Dead.

Flowerpott had already pulled out an Archstone, and was examining the beast through it, while Balin walked forward and looked the dead beast over. His eyebrows drew together and he reached a finger down to scoop up the purple liquid coming out of the monster and sniffed.

“Smells like… grape jelly?” He said, incredulous.

“Could it be related to the wrathgrapes?” Aishablue said, considering.

“It bit my foot!” Raysdotter swore.

“The Archstone says it’s a Toejam.” Flowerpott declared. “Guess it likes feet?”

I choked, then giggled, then laughed – full bellied. “Of course there’s toejams in the foothills!”

The party gave me a look, then as one smiled and nodded.

Except for Flowerpott, who chortled. “I love this dungeon.”

---

One week later.

“Thanks for the escort, Deathbringer.” I said, as I waved at Kirk to carry the last of the winemaking equipment to the longhouse log-house we’d designated as the ‘chateau.’

“Of courrse, Lord Roughtuff. In return, may I ask if your ‘Duke’ ‘as spoken to you yet?”

“Mmm,” I grunted noncommittally, “He’s not happy about it, but he says for now just leave everything as is and he’ll get back to me. Don't worry, I've got your back – I won't let anything happen to you.”

“Thank you.”

Val waved from over where he was teaching knotwork to a group of young beaven and we waved back. The youngsters were rapt, their little fingers threading rope with abandon.

“Speaking of thanks. We truly apprreciate all you have done for us. You are even teaching us the ways of brewing and winemaking. Our kits grow wiser and more industrious by the day!” Deathbringer thumped his tail on the ground with pride.

“Ach, they’re a joy ta teach, that’s fer sure!” I agreed. “And this is the safest place to do this! I’m not too sure how Awemedinand will take me recreating their most famous export, and I’m not eager to find out. At least I know Romero won't care. Heck, he’ll probably be happy about it. But this is more for me than them anyway. I want to see if I’m capable of doing this.”

“Will it take long?”

“Not too long. I think I found an ingredient I’m looking for in a dungeon on the South Erden, and that’ll take another week to get here. After that, it could take years based on Romero’s method. If it works, I can start making my own copyright-free and slightly-worse wine. Maybe a nice rosé, ooh or or a maple sével.”

“I am looking forward to it,” Deathbringer said, his whiskers twitching.