Grand Saint Alloy

Tristan was going to kill Olfred. Being halfway through tier one had actually made that a distinct possibility as the man was only half a tier ahead. Tristan stomped out of the dinning hall while putting on an un-shredded gambeson. He needed to have a very hands on word with Olfred. Thankfully the padded armor doubled as a jacket, the fall rains and cloudy weather made it a bit chilly.

“What are you going to do,” Lesly asked.

She had become much more congenial after she found out Tristan was not going after her family. At first he wondered why the disgust common to most people had a looser grip on her. Then he realized her family had gained its wealth in a bunch of shady business dealings, the brightest of which was a gambling ring. He may have been a silver blooded devil, but the Golden Heart family had already been doing business with the devil for a long time.

Lesly probably saw him as a weapon that she could wield. Which was fine with Tristan. Jumping in harms way to break down his kern became much less risky if he had the fort’s doctors to patch him back up again.

“I am going to punch Olfred in the face,” Tristan yelled, “for about an hour.”

“Is that how you react to everyone you don’t like,” Lesly asked.

Tristan almost said it was a recent thing, but when he first met Luke he had contemplated hitting him with one of his crutches. Looking back on his life he realized he was a really mean person, just that when he was young he was protected by his uncle, and now he was able to protect himself to some degree.

“Yes, I hadn’t really thought about it before,” Tristan said.

Lesly nodded, “Well I suggest you go get food, now that we know you have a metal kern, we have a job for you. Kale will explain it while you eat.”

That was fast, they must have been really sure that he would be completely healed. It did not really matter, he did not want to stay here any longer than he had to. Most of the people who he walked past did not recognize him, the ones that did had one of three expressions. Interest was the most common, followed by fear, as if Tristan was some kind of predator who had escaped his cage. The last was anger, the self righteousness of those who believed blindly in the three gods and Elders.

Tristan nodded his thanks to Lesly and went to go get some food. The dining hall was a pine log building with long tables stretching from one end to the other. A kitchen was visible over a counter that extended across an entire wall. Cooks were methodically baking bread and cutting vegetables. Creating the standard soup and bread was something these cooks had made into habit a long time ago.

Bowls made of fired clay sat on the counter with a slice of bread beside it. It was not the cook’s responsibility to make the soldiers eat, so if you arrived late, like Tristan, then you got cold soup.

Tristan grabbed a bowl and snagged a few of the bread slices from other bowls. He could not imagine why anyone would be later than he was. Judging from the sunlight coming through the sky lights it was getting close to sun set.

He sat down and started eating, contemplating the concept of reinforcement. Tristan forced essence into his wrist, where the veins were visible. The normal blue color lightened, it looked like a blue tinged wire was set under his skin.

The method Tristan currently used was inefficient. That was not surprising as he had just discovered how to do it. He tried to condense the silver dyeing his vein, but it seemed that there was a minimum area he could reinforce. Maybe that was due to blood flow, Tristan made a mental note to learn which direction blood vessels carried their blood.

His musings were interrupted when some one sat down across from him. Tristan looked up to see Kale sitting across from him. The warrior grabbed one of Tristan’s bread slices and started eating.

“How are you, Kale?” Tristan said with a smile.

Kale had served the Caldera for most of his life, and was one of the most genuine people that Tristan had ever met. He had nothing to hide and the openness that brought made him a refreshing presence. It also did not hurt that he was the same age as most people’s grandparents, and treated Tristan like a grandson.

“I’ve been better,” Kale said, “I did not miss the politics when I was transferred to the mine.”

“Oh, what happened?” Tristan asked curiously

“Do you remember Vin?” Tristan nodded, he had met Vin in the Stone Caldera. Kale continued at his nod, “ well he was the commander of this fort and his attitude was passive at best, until Lesly pushed some buttons and he tried to kill her brother.”

Tristan frowned, “He attacked Bruce? I thought he was arrogant not stupid.”

“No,” Kale said slightly confused, “He lit the bridges on fire when you were escaping back to the Fort.”

“Oh,” was all Tristan could say. He had assumed that the bridges being lit up was part of a plan to keen the crabs from escaping the plains. A thought struck him, “So, Lesly took care of him and ran over I guess?”

“Something like that,” Kale said, “Eve was actually the one to kill him, so I guess you could say you owe that girl your life.”

Tristan scoffed, “Right, that just means she owes me one life after I saved her twice.”

Kale sighed. He was an older man and could see some flaws in that statement. If Tristan did not temper his attitude, he would one day be humiliated by something quite a bit less gentle than self reflection. Being grateful was a cheap and easy way to solve most of life’s problems.

“Either way, Lesly is now in charge, and she has a task for you,” Kale said, “She wants you to go to the alchemist and find out if he can cook up a disease or something similar that can kill off the ghost crabs.”

Tristan was surprised, Lesly wanted to work with the alchemist? It was logical, but Tristan had found that most people did not function with logic. If anyone could make a biological weapon, it was Hadrid. After all he had already modified some weird lizard, goat things to guard his house.

“Does Lesly know the details of what she’s asking?” Tristan asked.

Everyone knew about Hadrid as an alchemist to some extent. What Tristan was worried that Lesly overlooked was the cost. Hadrid would not take a deferred payment from people who were antagonistic to him. Tristan’s two knives had costed well over a talent, which was a years wages for skilled labor. That meant that engineering a new type of weapon for a mystical creature, which ignored many of the common animal traits, would be staggeringly expensive. Hadrid would do a good job, but Lesly would have to pay for it.

Kale shook his head, “Not quite, that was partly why it was to be discussed before you left. What should she expect?”

Tristan set his two knives down on the table, “These knives costed me more than a talent, and I’m sure I got a discount because of Luke. Lesly had better be ready to trade the wealth of an entire Caldera, to succeed. Hadrid is rude, and perhaps most importantly, no one can force him to do anything.”

“How many warriors do you think it would take to force him to listen?” Kale asked.

Tristan shrugged, he was a terrible judge of what an average warrior was. Kale was one of the weakest at the mine, however at the fort his situation was reversed. The issue was that Tristan’s only standard for a warrior’s capability was Siren’s group of six. Tristan was sure that Siren’s squad could challenge two or three divisions from the fort and win.

“Siren and his team might be able to take him if they were perfectly armed, had the terrain advantage, and somehow caught him alone,” Tristan said, watching Kale’s eyes widen, “I think there is some crucial information that was not released to the public. The alchemist has a tier five kern, a decade long Cold War with Elder River that has prompted him to create traps, and an army of monsters that he both created and controls. I would legitimately rather fight the ghost crabs than Hadrid.”

Kale’s eyes looked like they were about to fall out, “Tier five?” Tristan nodded, “Well then I guess I will have to tell Lesly to empty out a Caldera’s treasury then.”

“So I assume the mission she talked about will be called off?” Tristan asked.

Kale shook his head, “ No, contrary to what you might think, the wealth of the caldera is not to steep of a price for victory. The wealth of both the Plains Caldera and the Grass Caldera will be available upon the removal of the ghost crabs. The Elders have all agreed that the land will be taken by the one who solves the problem.”

So that’s what was meant by politics. Tristan could only sigh at the conduct of the Elders, they saw land up for grabs, and completely over looked the threat that was sitting on it. A threat that had already killed ten thousand people.