Combat Artificer

Enchantment is more of an art than a science. Sure, sure, there are the basic fundamentals, just like painting has fundamentals. One must be able to draw in proper perspective to create good art. But it's the flexibility of the artist and how they blend these fundamentals that leads to great art. One must be willing to… bend the rules, as I've heard it put, to really create a fantastic enchantment. Things that shouldn't work often do work in this field. Your imagination is the limit in some cases. Some of you may have preconceived notions about the status of your enchanting related classes, perhaps thinking that yours may sit higher or lower than your peers' class. This is false. Someone with real vision, real creativity, will go much farther than someone without that passion, regardless of whether their class is "better" or not.

-Solvun Arnereon to one of his first year enchanting classes

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"You're plenty welcome. So, what now?" Xander asked.

"We finish putting out the fires, make arrangements to shelter those who lost their homes, interrogate our prisoners, and keep watch. In case there are more who come."

"That's a good idea. I'm hoping that it was just the one band of raiders… Do you think this was the danger that we were supposed to protect you from?" Xander pondered out loud.

"Likely. A group like that, intent on burning us out… we would have lost our homes, and many lives. Been forced to relocate. But, if Antre was behind this… it could happen again. We need to find out why they came. We don't have much to make us worth pillaging, so there must be some other reason," Jerik theorized.

"I'm not much for interrogation," Xander admitted. "Torture even less so. I don't have the proverbial stomach for it. But, I think I can help arrange shelter for those who lost their homes. My class lets me fabricate materials that I can use to house the displaced. If you can get me a count of how many need to be housed, I'll get started."

Within the hour, Jerik and the other elders in the village, who seemed to form some kind of small council, had gathered everyone that was not on watch or guarding the prisoners that had been taken into the center of the village, in an open area. Families were reunited, tearfully hugging each other, while others, who had lost someone in the raid, still looked harrowed and lost. A count of those missing and presumed dead was made, as well as a count of those who had lost a home in the fires that had spread through the village. Overall, there were approximately twenty that needed to be housed.

Xander identified a spot that seemed like a good place for a long building that could house the displaced, and after getting confirmation from one of the village elders, whose name he did not know – he'd just seen them in council with Jerik earlier – he began. The first step was to clear the debris of a couple of burned out shells of the smalls houses that made up the village. Xander enlisted some help, a few idle werewolves who didn't look too tired, and Valteria, still in her suit. With Valteria able to demolish the larger sections of remains with her bulk and her hammer, the remains of the buildings were hauled out of the way, establishing an even, flat area for Xander to work on.

Xander first decided to set poles into the ground for the longhouse, as he had begun thinking of it. His [Improved Manipulation] allowed him to bore holes into the ground as he went along the length of where the structure would be placed, creating holes at regular intervals. Creating tall wooden posts and setting them in the holes was simple, each lightly runed for strength and some fire resistance to prevent any mishaps and to keep them from disintegrating. From there, the longhouse came together swiftly. A wooden floor was placed just above the ground, stretching between the posts, and supported by shorter posts also set into the dirt. The walls were simple wooden boards, runed similarly to the posts. The roof took the longest, as Xander had decided he wanted to use shingles instead of thatch, mostly for the fact that he didn't actually know how to properly set thatch to make it waterproof. Orange clay shingles lined the wooden roof, each tacked into place by stainless steel nails. The inside was spartan, bare wood. Xander wasn't much of a decorator, but he decided that the place could at least use a fireplace. One of promptly installed, complete with a stone chimney, on one end of the building, farthest from the door. He also took the liberty of creating bunk beds, enough for each of the displaced werewolves, and then a few extra. Just in case.

Creating a whole building in the span of one night had put a large dent in Xander's mana. He still had a sizeable reserve, but it had been a while since he'd noticed any kind of appreciable dent in it. He stretched his arms out wide and arched his back in a mock stretch, for no particular reason except that it felt like the proper thing to do after creating an entire building. It was still mostly unfurnished, but it would allow those who had lost their homes somewhere to sleep until their homes had been rebuilt.

Xander hadn't realized it until he was done, but he'd gathered a small crowd of spectators, observing him create wood and steel from thin air, melding them together. Once he was finished, a small cheer broke the silence. Xander indicated that he was finished, and the werewolves who had been watching began to inspect the building, slowly filing in, looking around with no small amount of awe at the building that had risen before their eyes in the span of a few hours.

Xander left them to it, wandering back to the center of the village, where he found the rest of the team. They filled him in on what he'd missed. A few of the raiders had been chattier than the rest, in hopes of pleasing their captors. The local mayor, which everyone knew was Antre, had approached their band with an offer: clemency for their crimes in exchange for clearing out the nearby werewolf village and returning his daughter, whom the werewolves had allegedly kidnapped. The raiders didn't much care for the veracity of the claim of kidnapping, but the chance of clemency – and therefore the chance to transition to a band of legitimate sellswords – was much more tempting. And so, the raid had happened. After all, what was one more dirty act in light of the chance to go legitimate and work their way up the much more lucrative ladder of mercenary work versus scrounging as raiders for the rest of their life?

Xander sighed as the story was retold. They'd definitely have to do something about Antre. But what? They couldn't exactly go arrest him, he felt. They weren't exactly a branch of the law, after all. Nor could, or rather, should, they outright kill him. That still felt like cold blooded murder. Fortunately, during his pondering of the retold events, Jerik came to him with his own thoughts.

"Ah, Xander, there you are," the elder werewolf greeted him, interrupting Xander's unproductive line of thinking.

"Oh, hi Jerik," Xander responded. "What can I do for you?"

"Ah, well, I was hoping to bend your ear for a moment, about what to do in regard to Antre."

"Yeah? I was just thinking about that myself, and I wasn't sure what to do. We don't have the authority to really arrest him, and it certainly doesn't feel right just… killing him. Also, that would probably be even more illegal than trying to arrest him without authority," Xander thought out loud.

"Agreed. Neither are an option for us. We can, however, petition the lord of our lands, Lord Brant, to remove Antre from his position and take him into his custody. I think, especially due to his views on bandits and raiders, and those who consort with them, he is likely to be quite receptive to this. He may not have any particular love of werewolves, but I don't believe he harbors any hatred towards us either. And we are still his subjects. Something like this, done under the authority that he has delegated out, would be a black mark on his name if he did nothing about it," Jerik explained.

"That makes sense," Xander said, nodding in agreement.

"I was hoping that we could enlist your services for a bit longer, only a week or two at most. I plan to send several of our guards, along with the prisoners and Antellina, to Lord Brant's estate, several days away. This will leave the village even less defended, and in the event that Antre has contacted more than one group of bandits or raiders, it would be… catastrophic if you were not here to defend the village."

"I see nothing wrong with this," Xander replied, looking around at the rest of his gathered team. He was met with nods and agreement, confirming his decision.

"Excellent, you have my thanks once again. I shall ensure that the preparations for our group of envoys to Lord Brant are made with haste," Jerik said, pleased.

"I'll work on enhancing the defenses of the village in the meantime, just in case," Xander offered. It would give him something to do while he waited. Guiltily thinking of the werewolves that had died defending the village, he realized that perhaps he should have offered to do this before they were attacked, not afterwards.

"That would be much appreciated. We are not versed in the art of siege works, but whatever aid we can provide will be given."

"If you can have your woodsmen bring me as many trees as they can, I'll make you a palisade wall around the village."

"It shall be done!" Jerik intoned, formally. "The forest provides, as it always does."

Once everyone, except those chosen to be on watch, had had a chance to rest after the interruption of the night raid, Jerik and the other village elders organized the village into multiple lines of effort. Anyone capable of cutting down a tree was tasked with doing so. Others were set to clearing the ruined, burnt out homes that dotted the side of the village closest to the road. The group intended to visit lord Brant, including Antellina and her lover, Reftran, was formed and sent off, the shackled raiders begrudgingly trudging along. Xander used his abilities to remove the trench that he'd dug before the raid, as it would interfere with the placement of the palisade wall. Later in the day, trees began to be dragged into the village, and Xander began the process of sharpening the tops, setting them into the soil around the village, and binding them together to create a contiguous section of wall. Considering the danger of fire he had seen first hand last night, each log was individually runed for strength and fire resistance before being put into the wall. A catwalk was installed along the length of the wall, allowing archers to man the wall and fire out against any threats, and a simple gate at the entrance of the road finished the defenses. The job took several days, mostly limited by the speed that trees could be cut down and dragged to the village, which was still exceptional due to the werewolves' skills and natural strength. Once the wall was finished, a ripple of relief was felt throughout the village. Everyone felt just a little bit safer with a barrier around the village.

Jerik found Xander during his final inspection of the wall, touching up anything that looked to be too loose, ensuring there were no gaps in the wall. "Ah, I've found you, good," Jerik called out.

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"What's up?" Xander responded, turning from the wall.

"Well, the other elders and I have come to a decision. Several of the children have come of age, and with Antellina seeming to have become a permanent resident, we are due an induction ceremony. We would like to include yourself and the rest of your team, to show our gratitude, as well as to show that you are welcome in our village at any time."

"Oh! That's very kind of you," Xander replied. "What, ah, is involved in the ceremony?"

"Well, for the children, and for Antellina, it involves the opportunity to be 'turned' as some refer to it. To begin the process of becoming a werewolf. It is not required to live among us, but it is rarely declined, especially amongst those that have grown up with us. For yourselves, it would be more symbolic, though, if any of you were to express interest in becoming a werewolf, I doubt the elders would deny the request."

"I see. I'm certainly happy to participate, though I'll have to decline the offer of werewolf-hood. Frankly, I'm not entirely sure I even can become a werewolf, due to my current form of… existence. I'll make sure to extend your offer to the rest of the team as well, unless you'd prefer to personally invite them as well," Xander said.

"Ah, I'm sure it will be as fine coming from you as it would from me," Jerik said with a shrug. "If I happen to see them before you, I shall extend them the same courtesy I extended to you and invite them, but don't hesitate to relay the message yourself. There is time for them to consider, as we will be waiting for Antellina's return and news from Lord Brant before we have our induction," Jerik explained.

Xander nodded in response, returning his attention to the wall as Jerik walked away to attend to more business in the village. Once he had finished going over the palisade, he wandered through the village, heading towards the green space that housed the team's tents. There, he found Frazay and Trion, who Xander realized he had not seen during the fight, lazily laying in the sun together.

"Hey Frazay," Xander greeted the woman, who opened one eye to look at him. Trion didn't react except to stir slightly, sidling closer to Frazay. "Holding up alright? Glad to see Trion is in one piece."

Frazay stretched, finally opening both eyes, and responded, "Oh, yes, I'm fine. Maybe a little sore after all the work we did, but fine. I actually sent Trion into the woods that night. He's still a bit too young to be fighting, after all. His fire hasn't fully come in, you see."

"Oh, that makes sense. For the best, I'd say. I'd hate for something to happen to him. Freyja quite enjoys his company," Xander replied.

"They do make quite a pair, a loravian panther and sea drake," Frazay chuckled. "What brings you over here?"

"Well, I'm done with the wall, and Jerik just invited us all to an induction ceremony that's to be done when Antellina and the rest of the werewolves that left to see Lord Brant return. Even said that the elders would probably be amenable to requesting to become a werewolf, if that's your thing. I think I'll pass, personally. But we are to be included symbolically for what we've done for the village." Xander laid out the basics of the invitation.

"He did?" Frazay said, sitting up in what appeared to be surprise. "That is… well, an honor is a bit of an understatement. It's extremely rare for outsiders to be inducted into a werewolf pack, even more so for those that are not intending to become permanent residents of their village. Even without becoming a werewolf, symbolically being included into a werewolf pack means you are welcome in the community, and that the pack will protect you, at least within its domain. As for the offer of becoming a werewolf… I am unsure. It is tempting, for a multitude of reasons, but frankly, I find it a bit scary as well. I think, at least for now, I will also be declining that petition. I will sleep on it, and see how I feel about it."

"That's fair. Always good to sleep on a big decision," Xander agreed. "Have you seen any of the others? I was going to let them know about the invite as well."

"Mmm, I think they went to get some food, one of the werewolves offered us lunch. I was more interested in taking a nap in the sun, so I stayed here, but the rest of them accepted the offer. They should be back soon, I expect. There's, well, not exactly many things to do here," Frazay half complained.

"What, you want a werewolf brothel?" Xander poked at her.

"I mean, it would be something," Frazay joked back.

Xander settled in on a camp chair he'd brought with him from Earth, and enjoyed the quiet. He could distantly hear hustle and bustle, but it was on the other side of the village, and not a disturbance. Within an hour, the rest of the team returned, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Xander waved to them, and received waves in return, Valteria breaking from the group to trot up to him and give him a hug.

"Done with the wall?" She inquired. "I missed you!"

"All done," Xander confirmed. "I missed you too," he said, returning the hug and adding a kiss to it.

Xander relayed the details of Jerik's invite once more. They were all interested in attending the induction ceremony, but none of them, besides Frazay, expressed any interest in being turned. Xander supposed that was reasonable. Change, as he well knew, was scary, and the desire to be human, or dwarven, or pix, was an inherently strong one. The idea of becoming something else, something... other, was, well, frightening in a way. Xander had at least had some transhumanist philosophy to fall back on when he'd been forced to become more machine than man, but that line of thinking didn't seem to be very common on Tillania. Even then, it was a struggle, only reducing in intensity when he'd worked out the details of his silicone guise.

"Well, next time we see Jerik, we should let him know we'll be attending," Xander said.

Little happened during the time the group of envoys to Lord Brant were gone. Homes were being repaired, though more slowly than the wall had gone up. The longhouse had removed the impetus behind need to rebuild, and as such, people were free to take more time in rebuilding, ensuring that it was done correctly. When the group returned, a call was made from the new wall, summoning the elders, as well as anyone else who was interested enough or nosy enough to observe their arrival.

The group of werewolves, along with Antellina, were no longer burdened by the raiders. Presumably, they had been taken into Lord Brant's custody. Instead, two knights rode with them in shining plate armor. Once they arrived in the village proper, and were formally greeted by the elders, their purpose was made clear. Though the testimony from the werewolves, Antellina, and the raiders was enough to take Antre into custody, Lord Brant wanted an account of the damage as well. The knights were there for two purposes. To personally observe and report the damage to Lord Brant, and to bring Antre back to Brant's estate to answer for his crimes and misuse of the power that Brant had vested in him.

Once the knights had conferred with the elders to confirm the grim toll that the battle had taken, and noted down the extent of the damage that had been done to the village, they separated from the group, riding to Breks to take Antre into custody. They had said little, but the disappointment they seemed to feel with the entire situation was plain to see in their posture. What Antre had incited here had clearly struck a nerve with them.

The induction ceremony was due on the next full moon, which was three days after the return of the group that had been sent to Lord Brant.

The mercenaries were quietly excited to attend, as Frazay had impressed upon them all the rarity and honor that being included in such an induction held. On the night of the full moon, the entire village gathered in the largest open space within their new wall. There, in simple robes, were Antellina and the children that had recently come of age to be inducted as adults in the village. Behind them, also in simple robes that had been gifted for the occasion, were the mercenaries that had saved the village. Xander, Valteria, Gabrelle, Graffus, Atrax, and Frazay waited patiently behind the significantly more nervous children – adults, Xander corrected himself, this was something of a coming of age ceremony – as the elders entered the clearing that the gathered crowd has left around the soon to be new members of the village.

"Welcome," one of the elders began. "Welcome to this induction ceremony. I know we have experienced dark times as of late. But we have had our time to be somber. To mourn. Now, we turn our faces to new experiences. To rebuilding, and to welcoming new members into the pack! Most of you have always lived amongst us, have grown up knowing that this day would come. Some of you, however, have not. To Antellina, you have chosen us as your home, and we welcome you. To the mercenaries that aided us, ensuring that we survived the attack that sought to rid us of our homes and livelihoods, we also welcome you into the pack."

Another elder, Jerik, Xander recognized as he stepped up, continued. "For some of you, this induction marks the end of childhood, and the beginning of adulthood. For others, it marks your entrance into a new community, one you may not be familiar with. Know this: no matter the reason for your induction, or whether you accept the blessing of being turned, you are welcome in this pack. We will protect you with our lives within our lands, as we expect you to do." Jerik stepped back, taking his place in the line of elders.

Another elder stepped up, and spoke. Each one on in turn spoke, though the later lines seemed more aimed at the children that were coming of age than for those in the ceremony that were already adults. They encouraged the new adults to be productive, to strive for greatness in their life, and to lean on their community in times of need.

At the end of the speech, each prospective inductee was paired with someone from the village. Children with their parents, Antellina with Reftran, and an elder or other respected member of the community for each mercenary. Jerik made his way to over to Xander.

Jerik called out to the inductees, "Raise your arm, so that you may receive the blessing of your heritage, and of our community." He gestured for Xander to do so too, indicating that he should raise an arm to chest level or so. "Don't worry," Jerik said quietly, "I would not turn you without consent."

"Receive now this blessing!" Jerik called out once again.

Xander looked around, noticing that the children, now adults, and Antellina, were each being bitten gently on the arm they had held up, just enough to break the skin.

Each elder raised their voice in tandem, reciting, "The silversmith and his forge will you fear…"

Each, however, stopped. A foreboding atmosphere had overtaken the gathering, and it seemed all had felt it. Xander watched, somewhat stupefied as his status window opened before him unbidden before closing again.

---[Quest] task successfully completed---

---Reward from Ghurral dispensing---

Once again, the noises of nature, of birds, insects, babbling brooks and trees creaking, could be heard, slowly rising into a crescendo of sound. Through it all, a singular wolf could be heard in the distance, howling. It seemed that this time, everyone could hear it, too. Frightened, confused looks were cast about.

A whisper, that somehow Xander knew was just for him, like the buzz of a mosquito right beside his ear, squeaked out, "You have done well, [godsmarked]. My chosen yet live, and they rebuild and celebrate as they should. Receive now this blessing," the disembodied voice buzzed out, mimicking Jerik's previous phrase.

The sounds of trees, of wolves howling, big cats rumbling, any and every animal and piece of nature once could think of, resolved together into one coherent, sonorous voice.

"THE SILVERSMITH AND HIS FORGE WILL YOU FEAR," began the sonorous voice, taking up the mantle of the elder's speech.

"BY THE WAXING AND THE WANING OF THE MOON WILL YOU BE MARKED," the sounds continued, the screaming of monkeys, the rattle of a snake, and the buzz of bees.

"RECEIVE NOW THIS BLESSING," the sounds trailed off into silence.

Xander now had an idea of the blessing that he would be receiving. He looked around, shaking his head. He wasn't ready for this! How was he even supposed to become a werewolf when he was already a spirit? The others were looking on and around in awe, realizing that they had been visited by a god. But Xander was looking around in fear.

"I think…" Xander began, but was interrupted. By pain. Pain? He hadn't felt pain in… so long. What was happening? Why did everything hurt?

Xander doubled over, before collapsing to the ground. "Hurts," was all he managed to grind out in his confused state, as his companions crowded around him, concerned.

Then the pain doubled. Tripled. Xander tried to scream, reflexively, but no sound came. His synthetic body spasmed as he sought to do something, anything, to relieve the pain. The crowd that had gathered round him back away, making space for his thrashing. With his enhanced strength, Xander tore gouges out of the dirt as his fingers clawed at nothing. He rolled and thrashed in silence, mouth open in a scream.

Xanders silicone skin bulged disturbingly beneath his robe. The first sound that could be heard was something akin to the tearing of cloth, and then there was the sound of actual cloth tearing Xander's robes ripped around his form, caught in another convulsion. The final sound was that of a wolf's howl, emanating from Xander's open mouth.

Fur could be seen in the rents and tears of his flesh through his now destroyed robe. Finally, his silicone shell burst open completely, revealing a hulking werewolf, who, in a flash, darted through the crowd and in the direction of the woods.

Left behind were robes, shreds of silicone, and metallic bones, made from dragonscale.