FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Priorities

"There it is! It's still there!"

"Well, of course it is. It has no legs, right? Besides, that town is not entirely defenseless."

"The Agents are different from raiders, Jek. We must make sure that this place is also protected."

"Okay, I heard you. So, any plans?"

"None, I'm afraid. Wait in the carriage. I need to talk to the mayor on the situation."

Aranis went into the town first, wanting to talk with the jackal mayor in dealing with the situation. Now that the Collectives were gone, the Agents would start hunting for other mages, and that free-town had a lot of it. Both orphans and mages made their refuge in that town, on all races, be it humans, elves, beast races, and even Chaos races like gnolls and Fa'ars.

The carriage they used during their travels stayed intact despite all the troubles they got. Aranis and Raine almost got killed while jumping from an Aether bomb, while Narati, Karkas, and Jek got into trouble with the Agents after killing two of their ranks with ease. In the end, however, they survived, and Kazan had decided to follow the group, having decided that going with them mean a better chance of survival.

Their travel to the free-town wasn't risk-free. Raiders still came even though they had caused many groups to either got massacred or captured. It was like there's no end to them. But that's not their main problem. Raiders were nothing if they had primitive weapons made from junks. The Agents had weapons made from junks, yet better made and clearly deadlier. Despite of their high-level of lethality and their better chance at survival, both because of equipment and experience, the Agents were on a different level.

Aranis found the mayor, who was still in her office when she requested a meeting with her. The elf decided to use her relationship with the mayor to convince her in protecting the town. But, the mayor was reluctant.

"Yes, I know these Agents are quite a problem. Other settlements reported the same things. But do you realize how big the area is? After your attempt in helping the croc village in the swamp, they started to trade with us. Their swamp is one of that area," said the mayor.

"So you're going to give up and open this place to them?"

"I did not say I will give up, Aranis," said the mayor with a serious face, at least with a jackal's expression. "It's just we don't have the manpower. The crocs are willing to help us protect our homes, but they demand that their own village be protected, too. The deal is over if they lost their family."

"So, find a way to divert the attention of the Agents away from them! If the males of the tribe are willing, then we are willing to protect their wife and children. How is it so hard?"

The mayor stared towards Aranis for a while before sighing and said, "What do you propose?"

"I want to create a dome barrier, and possibly other enhancement to your defense. I want to make this place like a magician's fort of old. The children, the old, and those unable to fight will be safe in it."

"How are you planning to do that?"

"My students will create beacons in strategic places in and around the town and the swamp to form that dome barrier. I know the spell to activate and maintain it. It uses an obsolete spell tome style which uses a dedicated symbol to keep it on and ready to use in case of other emergencies. Just think of it as a rechargeable battery so you don't need to maintain it in person.

"The elven soldier mages used these tomes during the War for protection, with the same scenario with what we are currently facing. If we're lucky, we can weed out most of their ranks before they come in. The problem now is their Aether bombs."

"Aether bombs! What the hell are they doing with that forsaken element?"

"Use your enemies' tools against them, and achieve victory, if I quote it correctly. The Aether bombs are the only way to destroy the dome barrier in one quick explosion. It will both eat the barrier and irradiate us, so it's a win-win situation for them. I hate to say this, but they know how to deal with mages."

"So how to counteract them?"

Aranis then looked out of the window. "Our hope lies within Narati. Let's just hope he knows what he is doing."

Narati, on the other hand, bored due to no action, decided to wander the town and meet with some junk technicians he got acquainted with during his last visit to the town. The technicians were quite liberal with their help, even if it came from a Chaos race, possibly because Chaos races in that town seemed well-behaved and not the source of trouble (not surprising, since most were either old or females). One evidence was the young female gnoll he made friends with. Like him, the female gnoll liked to tinker with stuffs, but the thing he valued the most was her knowledge in crafting bullets.

For most people, guns were the ultimate form of protection they could ever want. The saying 'Don't bring knifes to a gunfight' usually applied to every encounter. In most cases, guns win, and Narati intended it to be that way. For him, crafting bullets, despite of how easy it looked, remained a challenge to him, mostly because of his aversion to gunfire. The Fa'ar didn't like the sound of gunfire even if his friends or everyone around him tried to convince him that explosion was much louder than gunfire. He didn't know the reason, but he was determined to fight and conquer this weakness.

The door opened to a chime, where he saw the gnoll waiting for him. Upon seeing him, she said, "Nara! You're back in town!"

"Hello, Rezzie," said Narati, waving his hand on her. "What's new?"

"Oh, nothing. It's the usual," said Rezzie. "Have any junk to buy or...resupply?"

"Not really. I want to learn."

Rezzie looked at the Fa'ar in confusion. "I thought you hate guns."

"I intend to fight it. And besides, I need your help, too. I'll explain."

Despite of their short time acquainted, Rezick, or Rezzie as she preferred to be called, knew Narati and become fast friends due to their same interest in tinkering. One other thing that she liked was another reasonable Chaos race to talk with. As a gnoll, she felt alienated by the others, not because of her being a Chaos race, but because of her race's 'unique' body. Aranis once told her the reason why, as gnolls' feral counterparts were hyenas, and hyenas...well, have something extra for their females.

Narati, being 16 years old, was still young and seemingly innocent about sexualities. Rezzie also knew that he would be more attracted to a Fa'ar anyway. But that's not the important part. Narati approached Rezzie and whispered something in her large ears. They suddenly perked up as she heard something interesting.

"So, you want me to teach you how to make bullets because you want to do...that? You do know that's a dangerous idea."

"I can't just stand there doing nothing while they come and kill us all, right?"

"I know you have your own reasons, Nara, but what you're asking is suicide. The bullets I crafted may hold the powder you use for the explosives, but they won't hold when ignited. You can't even use a delay timer. Bullets are different from grenades, Nara."

"Is there an explode upon contact version?"

"You need something that can oxidize as soon as it breaks, much like your contact grenades, but...I need to research some more."

"Please, Rezzie. This is for your own safety, too. This town is going to be attacked by the Agents."

"I know that, Nara, but isn't it too hasty to use exploding bullets? Why can't you just use your usual traps?"

"Not enough. And besides, I need better weapons for Jek and the others."

Rezzie contemplated Narati's words for a while. She had never been requested to make dangerous weapons that could potentially harm the users. But, it was something necessary. The gnoll knew that once she crafted them, there was no turning back. People would try to buy from her, and she did not want to get into trouble. For a gnoll like her, people would like to make up things that could implicate her.

Yet, she could not refuse it on the ground of it being dangerous. If it had a chance to fight against the Agents, she would gladly help. Thinking about it made her smile.

"Alright, Nara. You win. Let me show you how to make those bullets. Let me tell you something, though. Making bullets is different from your usual trap. Follow me."

Narati followed the young gnoll, thinking about how bullets were made. She took him through the room behind the counter, with doorway covered with ragged cloth that was not transparent enough to see what's inside. Upon opening it, however, Narati was shown a different room, the purpose of which was clearly not for home.

"This is the workshop," said Rezzie while taking Narati around. "Normally there are smiths helping with the bullets, but it's not their work hours. One warning, though. Don't touch anything or you'll be sorry."

"How sorry?"

"You may lose a finger or two, and maybe the whole hand," said Rezzie nonchalantly. "Shall we continue?"

Narati gulped, knowing how serious that would be for someone who liked tinkering like him.

Without thinking about the consequences, Narati looked around the workshop. There were many contraptions that the Fa'ar had never seen before, but the one he was drawn to was the one with a furnace.

"What's that?" said Narati while pointing at the contraption.

"That's the melter," said Rezzie. "We melt old metal and form it into many things, provided you have the mold. We have molds for many kinds of bullets, and because of that, we trade them for metal scraps or anything you can find out there."

"That's handy, making your own muns."

"Easier than trying to find spare ones in old military depots. The powder, however, is the problem. That part is quite hard to replicate so we prefer raw powder. Some traders provide them for muns, so it's easy to find them around. I ask Graz to help resupply. It's tough work, given the lands, but he'll manage."

"Who's Graz?"

"The owner of this shop?"

"Oh...."

"His name is at the door, if you want to know," said Rezzie with a laugh. "Come on. I'll some you something more."

Rezzie took Narati away from the workshop into an open space behind it. It had nothing in there except a circular construct made of straw, where they painted target circle on it. The Fa'ar realized something was bound to cause problem to him, and he said, "Oh, this is bad."

"Why?" Rezzie then remembered something. "Oh, you don't like gunshots, do you? Don't worry, I won't gonna shoot anything. No one's testing today, so you're fine."

"Wait. No one's doing anything in this shop?"

"It's their off time. We need that sometimes, you know. What? You think we're working non-stop like you, bounty hunters?"

Seeing how Narati reacted to that and sheepishly smiled made Rezzie felt comfortable herself. Normally, bounty hunters, being hardened by so many deaths and tragedies, were mostly withdrawn people who did not wish to talk much. Either it was for protection or not, Rezzie wouldn't know. Narati was different since he was so young and he was a lone Fa'ar, who had no pack of his own.

Rezzie knew some optimistic bounty hunters, but it was only a few of them. When the muns stopped trickling, they lost the smile on their faces. It was the same pattern all over. She wished Narati didn't go down that path, now that she heard that he was changing his ways into a more reserved mercenary group for hire.

She then looked at the rat person and said, "Just one more thing before we start, though. This is not a free service, so I will expect some sort of a payment for this."

"Payment, huh? What sort of payment you have in your mind?"

"Anything worth 500 muns," said Rezzie short.

"That's a lot."

"You want my help or not?"

Narati contemplated it for a moment. Due to the civilization collapse, the currency wasn't set, so 500 muns mean that valuable junk that can be sold was different in each merchant. It was a good thing to be able to flatter or otherwise 'bribe' the merchant in a different way, but right now the Fa'ar had no mood or even intention for that. He knew something that Rezzie might like, yet it's hard to part with it.

He then presented her an ornate gun, which looked like it was only for decoration, at least until Narati readied himself and shoot it, despite of it didn't hit the mark and he was wincing. What intrigued Rezzie was the gun itself. While it seemed to be a normal gun at first, it was apparently a magically-operated gun, with the bullets being enhanced. Since both were Chaos Races, they could not use it properly. Yet, people who could use magic would want that gun for a substantial amount of muns.

"You don't need to shoot it if you can't handle gunshots," said Rezzie. "I know it's more than that at first glance. I'm not an amateur, you know."

"Yeah...I guess I'm the idiot. So, we have a deal?"

"A deal is a deal. Now, since no one's going to buy some weapons anyway, I might close early today. You have appointments?"

"No, not really."

"Then let's get started."

Narati wasn't sure if the procedure was safe. He knew his own explosives were volatile and was ready to explode any time, but this time he was doing something entirely new. He just wished it worked out in the end, and his idea would work.

They stepped into the workshop after Rezzie closed the store. They wouldn't know how long they would be inside, but it was for the best.

***

Karkas wasn't interested in protecting the town, or even wanting to be involved at all. All he wanted was to drink in peace at the bar until the inevitable reached them, and his services would be needed. For him, he was nothing but a muscle for the rest of the team, despite of assurances from Narati that he was not. True, his relationship with the rat started to become something like friendship, but he wasn't ready to trust the Fa'ar yet. Yes, he was acquainted, but it was for a better working relationship instead of a more personal one.

For a croc like him, drinking was the least of his worries. He was in a town protected by a tribe of croc. As a croc himself, Karkas knew that they could be very territorial and did not want others to waltz in and casually drink near their village. It's likely to be misinterpreted as an invitation for a fight, which Karkas had no mood for.

His concerns seemingly became reality when a croc approached him. Seeing the older crocodilian made Karkas felt uneasy. From how he dressed and the number of tribal tattoos he had, Karkas suspected that he was a shaman, or even the elder himself.

The old crocodilian sat beside Karkas with his staff put between them. The bartender seemed to know him, as he made some personal remarks that made both laugh. This made Karkas uneasy. But, his uneasiness was tempered somewhat when the old croc turned his head towards him and said, "Don't get too tensed up, youngster. You're welcome in this town."

Karkas tried not to say wrong things and kept silent about it, while he drank the liquor in front of him. The old croc, sensing Karkas's reluctance, said, "We are not in a fight with other tribes, so anyone is welcome here. Besides, everyone knows that you're tribeless."

"It's being tribeless that worries me," said Karkas. "I do not belong to any tribes since I was hatched, and being near a village such as yours can give a bad impression."

"Now, don't blame yourself to hard there," said the old croc. "I don't blame you for not trusting anyone. A croc's quest for revenge is a lifetime quest, after all."

"Hmph," grunted Karkas. "So, words got around quick around these parts."

"With the imminent danger coming for us, I think it's natural to hear the news faster than any other places. Also, words also go around about a croc befriending a Fa'ar."

"That's not what it looks like," said Karkas while ordering another drink. "That rat's too clingy. That's all."

"Say what you want, youngster," said the old croc while drinking his fill. "It's not like that's a problem for us. Honestly, I don't care about it at all. From what I can see, he's harmless."

"You know him?"

"He was with the elf when she cleaned the swamp from its corruption. We were surprised that a Fa'ar could become friends with an elf, but when you're as old as me, things like that are not surprising anymore."

"Really? I've not settled in a place more than a week, and had been on the road for 5 years. I think I've seen enough."

"The world is big, youngster," said the old croc. "Just 5 years, huh? You haven't seen enough."

"You don't seem to travel much, being within a tribe."

"That does not mean I was hatched in it. I was a travelling shaman at your age, and my friend, the previous tribe leader, was creating a tribe back then. I travelled for more than 30 years before I settled in his tribe, where they made me their own."

The old croc then sighed, and said, "You may be a traveler, but by the end of the day, you might want to settle within a tribe. A croc cannot live by his own. Whenever you are ready, you can join us."

Then he left the counter, leaving Karkas to think for it. He knew living in a tribe could be something of a privilege for a traveler like him. Yet again, he still had a lingering doubt, especially with revenge against the one who wronged him: Asran.

He could not live peacefully until he resolved that situation, and he knew that was a steady process. Hearing the croc's talk about tribes and such had caused him to decide. He would be in the Wanderers, if their priorities were still the same.

Yet, subconsciously, he wanted to see if his decision on Narati was right, whether he was more than the usual Fa'ar or not. Would that young Fa'ar grew like his people, who reveled in thievery and generally distruptive behavior, or he would be a normal person who could be a pinnacle in the Fa'ar community

Only time would tell, and Karkas had all the time he could spare.