Chapter 423: A Small Snail Problem
Milo followed his host through the Foreign Market. He hadn't been asked to come and hadn't been told not to. Curiosity won, and he followed Speaker/Grothmar as he hurried (for a Myconian) through the strange marketplace. He had plans to come back and explore further. The few stalls they'd passed on the way to Grothmar's abode that doubled as a small bookstore had him itching to explore. One stand sold honey, and only honey. It was stacked in jars of different colors and sizes, showing colors that ranged from pale blue to warm yellow and bright red. The proprietor looked like a young, adult human girl with blond hair and tanned skin. When she turned around to hand a customer a jar, Milo saw that she had eyes like an insect and long antennae coming from her forehead. The hand-painted sign above the stand said 'Amarella's Fine Honey - From the Hives of Eliandrion.' He had never heard of such a place before. He'd seen an ancient troll selling myconic tonics, a sentient mantis in a tophat showing off his pickled brains and spleens, and a shrivelled myconian covered in green moss who was selling small packages of sweet-smelling mulch at exorbitant prices to a crowd of eager buyers.
Grothmar stopped at a large stand where seven dwarves were putting on armor, and several more were lashing plates and a cannon onto what looked like a mechanical bear. Two dwarves were peddling furiously on an apparatus that he recognized as a device to produce electrical power. Wires ran from the device to a crystal that held Storm Mana, and then to the bear. When the two peddlers slowed, two others took their place. They differed from the Engineers with their dark skin and shockingly white beards. He assumed the color was natural, and not from age since none of the dwarves seemed that old. They also differed in their attitude towards their work. Worn tools were scattered on the floor, the bear had rust on its parts, and their coveralls were stained with old grease and gravy. Milo wondered where they were from; the only sign on their workshop said 'Flack and Hack-Mechanical Mercs for Hire.'
Grothmar stopped and observed. "There are snails to kill. Your apparatus does not seem functional. Must I remind you that the rent on your stall is overdue by nine years, and you proposed to pay by volunteering for Snail Killing Duty?"
The dwarves looked up, some nervous, some with disdain. "Don't get your mulch in a tizzy, just need a little bit of time to charge up URSA 2.9 and we'll be blasting the things to itty bits in no time.
"To define 'No Time.' To give a better estimation of the time until you are useful."
The dwarf who had spoken looked at the crystal, then at the gauges on the wall monitoring the flow. "About three hours, give or take six hours."
"That is too long. The Gigantus is on the move; the fields are in danger. I declare your back rent to be due. If you cannot pay, and cannot kill snails, you will become mulch, and your spot in the market sold to someone else." He turned and strode away, angrily, Milo thought.
The dwarves were cursing and looked anxious. Two began packing things up, four more opened a toolbox, and pulled out whiskey bottles that they opened up with shaking hands.
"That guy means it this time. You can always tell when they get mad; their thumbs start twitching."
"If I'm going to be mulch, it's gonna be whiskey flavored.""Guys! Come on! We get the bear moving, get the cannons out there, and blow up a big snail."
The speaker seemed young, the other dwarves considered his words, then laughed loudly and drank more. "Unless you've got a lightning bolt up your arse, and I'm not saying that you don't, Ursa 2.9 is about as useless as the first twenty-eight versions that the clan built and are in the scrapyard."
Milo stepped forward and looked at the crystal and the wiring. The dwarves stared at him, "What are you looking at?! Don't touch anything, that's fine dwarven micro-magic-thingama-stuff."
Milo shook his head. "No, it is a poorly connected magi-tech storage crystal that isn't getting any power because of the resistance in your cheap and often-spliced wiring. It's shitty work, and I'm embarrassed to be looking at it."
The dwarves cursed at him until a shining black wizard's staff appeared in his hand. "And I happen to have many lightning bolts up my arse." His claws disconnected the mess of wires going to the jury-rigged charging system, the he touched the crystal tip of his staff to the storage crystal.
"You may want to step back. I like my science like my cataclysmite: Loud and Destructive." He fired a lightning bolt at the crystal, and small bolts of power flashed around the stall. The dwarves scattered, rubbing at the spots where they'd been hit and cursing the madman who continued to fire lightning bolts from within their stand. The sound of thunder boomed out across the market. People came running to see what was happening, or, if they were smart, ran in the opposite direction. The walls and ceiling of the stand were on fire when Milo emerged, riding the mechanical bear, the crystal mounted on its head.
The dwarf in charge approached nervously, looking up at the Wizard sitting calmly on the growling mechanical beast. "Um, good job. Thanks for the help."
Milo stared down at him. "You'd make bad mulch. We'll talk later about how you can pay me back. For now, mount that second cannon, and grab all the ammunition you have stacked in the corner. We've got snails to kill!"
The dwarves saluted sloppily and got to work. They might be dirty and slovenly, but they were quick to follow orders and still knew which end of a spanner to use. Milo also scared the hell out of them. He'd gone from 'probably harmless' to 'destructive and dangerous' in just a few seconds. And while they respected that, it also came with a healthy amount of fear. Five minutes later, URSA 2.9 was on the move, large cannons mounted on each side, Milo on top with two gunners and loaders, and the rest of the mechanics were trotting alongside in makeshift armored suits and packing various weapons. They joined several other merchants/mercenaries heading the same way.
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Three elves with black skin and purple hair carried metal rods with glowing tips. They made rude gestures at the dwarves, but waved and gave Milo a thumbs-up gesture. They had a very small stand where they sold tonics that they brewed from poisonous mushrooms and psychedelic lichen. They weren't behind on their payments, but would never pass up a chance to loot giant snail glands.
Two trolls with rocky skin were selling Healing and Stone Skin potions to anyone who would listen to their spiel. One loudly spoke of the powerful protection and healing that their potions were capable of, while the other mumbled in a low voice, talking about the very small chance of being turned to stone and how the user had been warned in advance of the possibility. If the statue or their heirs still wanted to sue, it had to be done in Bloth, where they claimed to live, and the potions had been purchased.
The bee girl flew overhead at high speed on gossamer insect wings. A swarm of fist-sized bees swarmed around her, and even Milo looked at them nervously. He saw that she carried an assortment of grenades on her belt and was armed with a small bow, spear, and shield. He was curious to see how she fought. He was also curious about the need for the ad-hoc little force to fight off a snail invasion.
He was worried about what to do with the crystal. It would be needed to recharge the bear, and he had no idea how much internal storage the mechanical beast had, but it needed a more protective spot than where it sat now. He pointed at the dwarf who seemed to be in charge. "I need some names. Are you Flack or Hack?"
"Neither, I'm Dagmar. My uncles, Hakken and Flaccola, retired a couple of decades ago and put me in charge of the group."
"Well, Head Mechanic Dagmar, what's underneath this panel on the bear's neck? I need a better spot to mount the charging crystal."
Dagmar looked sheepish. "Not actually sure, to be honest. The bear didn't come with any instructions. We keep her oiled and fix the mechanics, but the inner workers are sort of a mystery. The controls to steer are right there in front of the forward saddle, so we know how to move her and keep her charged."
"But how does she fight? Don't tell me you use this beast as only a mobile weapons platform. There's good metal and workmanship put into her."
"OH! She fights like a demon from hell, don't you worry. Get her in the middle of a fight, let something hit her, and she goes crazy."
"Defensive protocols? That implies a high level of programming."
"If you say so, I just know we fire the cannons until we're out of ammo and then ride her close to something we know she can kill."
Frustrated, Milo took out his screwdriver and lowered his goggles. It was easy to see how the hatch was released and to disable the electro-shock trap attached to it. Inside was a one-foot square cavity six inches in depth, with a control panel marked with dwarven runes. A slot on the side held a small pamphlet that might prove useful. First, though, he worked to mount the charging crystal and even found a way to wire it into the interior of the bear, through the control panel. A perusal of the pamphlet convinced him that the original owners of URSA 2.9 might have been better mechanics than the younger generation, but that skill didn't hold true with their writing abilities. The 'instructions' were scribbled in the book, along with jokes, a recipe for 'killer eggnog', grease drippings, and half-drawn schematics for giving the bear wings. He did manage to get clues to the controls and was pretty sure he knew what everything did.
He turned to his gunnery assistants. "Hold on, I'm going to see if I can't get a little more speed out of the bear. We're falling behind."
The dwarves on the beast grabbed hold and looked worried. Dagmar yelled out, "I'm not sure if..."
Milo hit the switch that should put the bear into a faster pace. URSA 2.9 reared on her hind legs, opened her mouth, and roared at the sky, startling everyone. Dagmar and the other dwarves had seen this before; when their uncles were in charge, they quickly grabbed hold of the handles on the bear's sides. When the front feet came down, URSA 2.9 began to run, faster and faster, a low growl coming from her mouth. The dwarves held on tightly, and Milo did his best not to run anyone over. He passed the elves, who applauded as he went by. As they cleared the last building and gained the open road, they passed squad after squad of trudging Warforms heading to the front lines. Over two miles away, at the far end of the cavern, he could see where myconian warriors were massing for a battle, and gigantic snails, easily twenty feet high, were emerging from another cavern. And behind them came an even larger snail that must be Gigantus.
At the speed they were going, Milo estimated they'd make it there in under three minutes. He hoped he had the rest of the controls figured out by then.