BECMI Chapter 65 – About Time and the Land of Darkmoor

The King made introductions all around, although I’d seen pictures of all of them before, hanging in the Inn here. The Great Jordie was the most powerful cleric in Darkmoor, serving certain Immortals of the Iberon Pantheon (and ignoring others who backed that Empire more strictly). He was a firm supporter of the cause of northern independence and had basically led the clerics of the north into a schism with the main faith down south. And he was Gold, so there was that. The Azure Knight, real name Sir Leopold Antonix, was a famous cavalier of Darkmoor, reputed to have a mechanical mount which had driven his acclaim, upon which he rode the length and breadth of Darkmoor commanding the defenses of the realm. Pious Godfrey, the Paladin and true Silver, was accorded the greatest champion of the realm and the king’s most powerful and determined supporter, having basically held the North together with the Great Jordie during the time of the King’s absence. The dark-skinned and afro-haired Marius the Bronze, a rare Southerner in the North, was the most powerful mage directly in service to the king, and the second or third strongest in the north entire, a firm Yellow. Rimblefyr was a brown-bearded and green-haired rather hastily put-together fellow who smelled of herbs and strange plants, and had a few too many remnants of them stuck about his robes. He was an avowed naturalist, if not a Druid, a great friend of the elves in the North, and a free-wheeling, somewhat self-concerned Orange. “Will there be any problems speaking in Iberish?” Marius the Bronze asked gravely. “I seem to recall your people not being conversant in it, Lady Edge,” the extremely tall wizard asked kindly. “Iberish is basically a language only the most devoted of scholars pull out of the dust-bin of history in my time, Wizard Marius,” I replied calmly. “But I picked up the gist of it during my short stay, and rounded that out speaking with your king. It is not an issue,” I said, my Transyvian accent charming them all, certainly not by design, nopers. “Your line of elves must come from a distant place, indeed!” the rather over-eager Rimblefyr spoke up eagerly. “It would take you four thousand years to reach the place I came from, sir,” I replied with an arched eyebrow. He started to reply, thought about that, and managed a rueful smile accented by the laughter of the other men around the table. “The Lady Edge and her very adept company hail from far ahead in time, more years than we can reasonably conceive,” Ketcher Kociba, the ‘Catcher’, the king’s spymaster, broke in smoothly. “We are here to reward Lady Edge and her people for their help, and more precisely, to learn to control the Portal through time which exists in the basement of the Thisbean Inn below.” King Antius brought out the Amulet which had been worn by his captor in the future. I lifted out my own identical one to match it. All eyes fixed on them and the power they represented. I knew they wanted control of my Amulet. I also knew that the wise among them weren’t even going to bring up the subject after witnessing my Caster Level. I had more raw magical power than any and all of them, and they didn’t want to test it. “Pursuant to that, if you could please call in the owner of this establishment. He and I need to have some words and witnesses to them.” It was their turn to be surprised. Still, the Azure Knight stood up and went to the door, calling for Master Lalo, the portly fellow who owned and controlled the magicks of the Inn. The man was quick to arrive, a bit flush with excitement at being included in this meeting and having the chance to greet me personally. “Lady Edge, a joy to have you return to my humble Inn!” he proclaimed in best innkeeper fashion, bowing to me before taking the seat hurriedly fetched for him. “How may I be of help to you?” I flipped a page filled with dense contractual language upon it out and up into my hands, and a fountain pen. Everyone at the table blinked. “First I am going to tell you a story, Master Innkeep. Then you are going to sign this.” I stared at him coolly, and he swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. “The story is this: in the timeline I come from, at some date in the future, you, or the owner of this Inn at that time, dies without an heir, in a catastrophe so profound that it actually destroys the entire Inn at that time.” All the men there stared at me in disbelief. “The Inn rebuilds itself. However, it has no owner, which mean it becomes a prison and a deathtrap.” His face sank at the words. “For creatures and people could enter your Inn, but they could not leave… save by the Portal in the basement, when it arose. “Oh, they could survive. They could be comfortable enough, ” I let him consider that fact for a long and dire moment. This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. “And as they stayed, other creatures came in, they battled, they died, and they were imprisoned until more creatures came, and the cycle repeated, and repeated, When they grew desperate, they dared the Portals, which naturally brought beings of different times together to slaughter one another the more. “That is how I made my way to Darkmoor, Master Innkeeper… killing everything inside your Inn, or recruiting them to my own cause, all to reach the start of the temporal loop here and be able to exit this place. “I will NOT tolerate such a travesty happening again. You have made your Inn almost indestructible, so the ownership and control of it must likewise be longer-lived and have back-ups to prevent just such a situation from happening again.” I set the paper down in front of him, all their eyes following it. “This document makes me a successor owner of the Inn, in the event any other designated owner dies without naming a successor. It will not be effective if I contribute towards the death of any other owner, so be not afraid on the idea that I seek your death in this, your age and time. “If and when events come to pass, there will always be someone who can take over the Thisbean Inn, and ” He flushed in embarrassment, his hand reaching out to pick up the fountain pen there, studying it with interest. Equally somberly, he then read the will, such as it was, laid out elegantly in his own language, and could find no fault with it. Silently, he scribed his name on the line there, then passed pen and paper left to Rimblefyr, who also read through the terms, snorted softly, and added his name as a witness. So it went around the table, even King Antius reading it and adding his name before returning it to me. I waved a hand to dry the ink, rolled it up, and inserted it into my sleeve. “I will succor this in the future, so that it is never destroyed,” I stated calmly. “Thank you for your time and understanding in this matter, Master Innkeep.” “No, my lady, thank you for correcting a short-sighted mistake and oversight on my part!” he replied sincerely. He reached out his hand. “I hope you do honor to my Inn in the future, my lady.” I gave him a strong handshake, not a limp fish. He seemed to find that encouraging, because he then remarked, “The king noted that you had made some fascinating expansions to the Inn in the future. Is there a chance you could replicate them in this time?” he asked eagerly. “Yes, it is not difficult for me, although I expect compensation for my time,” I replied coolly. “It merely involves syncing a into the temporal structure of the inn to double the spatial dimensions held within its walls. I was trapped inside this Inn for forty years, and was able to work out how to make it happen.” The one being completely independent of the other, but they didn’t need to know that. “F-forty years?” Master Lalo felt his knees tremble as he stared at me. “Yes, Master Lalo. The Portal was disrupted and would not return, and to leave this Inn was to be washed away by the ides of Time. You see an Inn about you, Master Lalo. I see a remarkably comfortable prison, but a prison all the same.” He swallowed, and lowered his head as he beat a hasty retreat. I turned back to the others. I noted the king was still handling my fountain pen. “If I may?” he asked, holding it up to me in fascinated interest. I flicked up another paper, folded it artfully with magic, and laid it down in front of him. “Fountain pens are far superior to quills for writing, and will catch on with calligraphers and scribes across the world if properly made. I suggest you recruit some skilled hands and be about making yourselves a proper amount of gold. They are much easier to Enchant than quills are, too.” Without looking at it, the king picked up the paper with the specs on it and tucked it away, giving the Catcher another knowing glance. The balding man sighed and just smiled slightly. “To the matter of your rewards for saving the king.” From out of his purse, the Catcher pulled a fine wooden coffer bound in brass, clearly meant for travel, not to draw attention. “It was theorized that our coins might attract undue interest if awarded, so trade bars and precious stones were used instead. I trust this will be suitable?” He opened it up, revealing the shine of small golden bars instead of coins, and the glitter of darkly polished stones of blacks and blues flecked with gold: opals of high value. I nodded once. “Also wise. Another viable method is vials of holy water, or Healing Potions, which retain their value almost anywhere. Even Trallian Fire vials can be suitable.” Alchemical Fire was always a good seller, particularly in troll country. “Our need for those is great. We would be willing to buy such things if you have them, Lady Edge!” the stocky archpriest Jordie spoke up instantly, leaning forward with his eyes intent. “So noted. Near my base of operations is a nation with a surfeit of alchemical production available. If you would like to place an order there, I will arrange a delivery.” The atmosphere around the table lightened up and improved tremendously, as suddenly I was proving to be a viable trade partner! “Lady Edge,” King Antius asked gravely, “just how much trade would you be capable of handling? And what type?” “I am in the middle of setting up a trade network across disparate and far-flung locations using dimensional travel that avoids the travel time in between. While it is possible to send bulk cargoes this way, I am not in a position of time or manpower to pursue such interests full time, only in emergencies. “Thus, high-value cargoes would be best, both forth and back. I would also stress that transporting magical items to and fro across the ides of Time is likely not a very wise idea.” The spellcasters all clenched their fists in frustration. “If you have special orders, particularly in the areas of alchemy or magic, I can easily help you. If you have raw materials to sell of value, I can probably help you. If there is an emergency, such as a great famine, I can probably help to some extent. “The proper limits to such should be in volumes of what one person can transport across the Portal at one time. We are not going to set up a stevedore line hurling bags of wheat through the Portal.” That mollified their expectations and hopes somewhat. “So, something that would fit in magical Bags?” Marius asked in his deep voice. “Combined with and spells, those could convey a great deal,” I agreed solemnly. Watching their ears perk up was entertaining. “ and spells?” Rimblefyr repeated eagerly, a daisy above his ear bobbing for attention. “Magic made specifically for transportation of large objects, or large amounts of objects. For mercantile endeavors, of course.”