Kairos 80: Cogito Ergo Craft

Thales hadn’t wasted time.

He had increased his workshop’s size threefold while the Foresight’s crew had been abroad, and the already large laboratory had turned into what Kairos could only call a factory. The air was thick with the smell of alchemical fumes and the smoke of forges; hammers shaped molten steel into weapons and armors. [Common] and [Elite] Crafters worked together across vast assembly lines churning out magical items, while healing potions boiled in vast glass tanks waiting to be bottled up.

The most impressive addition to the workshop were the automatons. As Julia had warned him, Thales’ Skills improved to the point he could create more of them. Humanoid machines of wood and steel stood watch over the assembly lines, each of them wielding a polearm. A crystal eye served as their visage, and a bottle full of crackling lightning as their heart. These automatons didn’t answer when called and lacked intelligence of any sort, but their existence alone was nothing short of impressive.

Kairos entered Thales’ domain with Andromache, Sertorius, and Julia in tow—Andromache for her crafting expertise, Sertorius because he had promised to fund the expenses, and Julia because she had organized the entire workshop complex with Thales. His wife and concubine did their best to stand as far from the other as possible, with Sertorius standing in their midst like an impenetrable bulwark.

“As you can see, we have standardized processes much like a shipyard,” Julia explained as they surveyed the assembly lines. Human magicians and satyr workers oversaw the melting of iron while minotaurs hit blazing swords with hammers. “We can produce a full set of hoplite armor every three days, and a sword in one. All for a fraction of a private blacksmith’s cost.”

“Impressive, my sister,” Sertorius commented with approval. Common legionaries usually needed to provide their own equipment, and getting a cheaper source of material would only make them more efficient. “What about enchanted items?”

“They took longer to make obviously, but our choice to hire craftsmen from other nations is starting to pay off.” Julia smiled at Kairos. “Our new Myrmidon friends offered to build siege weapons for us.”

Friendship had its perks, though most items Kairos saw were Rank 2 and below. They were of good quality by the standards of common footmen and soldiers, but the factory couldn’t reproduce anything like his [Anemoi Spear] or Agron’s [Songaxe].

Speaking of Agron, Kairos’ group found him talking with Thales at the heart of the factory. The automaton had set up a table covered in various plans, schematics, and bottles of black liquid. Agron had offered his helmet to Thales, letting the automaton examine it. “Sir!” he declared upon seeing Kairos approach. “I am glad to see you are alive and well.”

“I love what you have done with the place,” Kairos said as the group sat at his and Agron’s side. “How did you make these automatons work? I thought they needed a soul to move?”

“Alas, I have been unable to craft a sentient kindred yet,” Thales admitted. “But my studies in the field of [Lightning] have shown me that electricity can be used to create movement. Since my batteries alone weren’t effective enough, I had mages capture minor [Lightning Elementals] and sealed them as a power source.”

“Like coal in a forge?” Agron asked.

“And it worked!” Thales declared with enthusiasm. “I can’t make more than a few since [Lightning Elementals] are rare and difficult to catch, but the possibilities! The possibilities!”

“We are all proud of your work, Thales,” Julia flattered him.

Her brother immediately focused on the military benefits. “The city of Thessala can field entire armies of automatons, and even create living siege engines. Perhaps we shall do the same one day.”

“It’s pretty far away,” Agron said with a snort as he glanced at the soulless automaton guards. “They don’t act unless asked to. I would take my crew over a thousand of these mindless soldiers.”

“Discipline is a strength in itself,” Sertorius argued. “An infantry force that cannot feel fear is one that never breaks.”

While the Lycean judge and the minotaur captain argued about the benefits of discipline versus initiative in a war, Kairos focused on the tools Thales had gathered. His Skills identified the bottles’ content as water from the river Lethe, but he paid more attention to Agron’s helmet.

Horns of Hypnos

Rank: Armor 2.

Value: 8000 gold coins.

This helmet was consecrated for Hypnos, the late god of dreams, which automatically adapts to the wearer’s face. The [Horns of Hypnos] grants the wearer [Sleep] Immunity, though they do not protect them from physical and mental fatigue. Additionally, the wearer can cast the [Sleep] spell thrice per day.

“Of course,” Kairos whispered as he put the two and two together. “[Sleep] immunity… have you applied this helmet to the victims suffering from eternal slumber?”

Thales answered with a nod. “It instantly dispelled the effect, as I predicted. I suspect this artifact was deliberately put on the first floor as a subtle key to bypass the second floor’s defenses.”

“Or the tomb we took it from belonged to a servant of Hypnos,” Kairos pointed out.

Andromache seized the helmet and examined it carefully. “I can make another, my other half,” she declared with confidence. “The [Telchine Metalsmithing] Skill allows me to do so.”

“Hypnos is gone though,” Julia pointed out. “This item was consecrated in his name, and as far as we know he is no longer here to bless it.”

“Even a dead god’s rituals can still carry some of its power,” Kairos replied. Nessus had lost his godhood, but some of Dionysus’ rituals worked just as well. “I can make another as well, though I will need an assistant [Priest] capable of casting the [Sleep] spell and uttering prayers to Hypnos as I forge.”

Sertorius stopped his debate with Agron to intervene. “Then I’m overqualified. Since they are a Rank 2 item, can [Elite] craftsmen mass-produce them?”

“I’m afraid not, Lord Sertorius,” Thales replied, his fingers fidgeting in frustration. “The enchantments are too complex for our smiths, and the odds of failure are quite high. Any mistake risks downgrading the [Sleep] immunity to mere resistance, which the Necromanteion’s magical effect bypasses.”

“Can you give us a report about your latest trip?” Julia asked softly. “I have already recounted earlier information to my husband, but maybe you discovered something else in the meantime.”

Andromache’s face briefly turned into a blank mask as she heard the word ‘husband,’ but she quickly adjusted her expression. It still displeases her, but she’s making peace with it, Kairos thought.

“The situation on the second floor is stable for now, Lady Julia,” Thales explained. “Chrysaor has taken over the outpost’s defenses. Though shades attack them each night, they’re manageable without the Lamia guardian.”

“Chrysaor?” Kairos asked.

Julia enlightened him. “A Lycean adventurer who slew the Lamia guardian on the second floor. He earned a [Legend] from her, though he didn’t become a [Hero].”

“He started out as a [Common] who got a lucky shot?” Kairos guessed. The story sounded quite familiar to his own.

“I’m sure you will get along,” his wife replied with a wide grin. “I heard he is a [Crafter] though. A peasant you inspired to take up arms for coin and glory.”

“I would be glad to meet him,” Sertorius said with a happy nod. “Lyce needs more [Legends] in these trying times.”

“You already have hundreds,” Kairos pointed out, amazed by his brother-in-law’s greed. “More than any other nation.”

“You of all people should understand that peace can only be enforced through a monopoly on [Heroes],” Sertorius replied calmly. “An [Elite] with a [Legend] outside our influence could very well become the next Mithridates or Teuta. We need to recruit as many as we can, before they can evolve into future threats.”

“I saw Chrysaor first, brother,” Julia replied, though her tone remained friendly. Though they were family, she obviously wanted to keep as many potential future [Heroes] under Histria’s influence.

Kairos pondered Sertorius’ words, as they cast light on his thinking. His brother-in-law wanted his family to rule the Sunsea; in his mind, he could only achieve that goal by either recruiting or eliminating any potential competition.

Sertorius had recruited Kairos by making him family, and would eliminate Mithridates, Teuta, and all their followers. Would he go after the likes of Prince Hadad if he kept sitting on the fence? Kairos didn’t wish to go to war with the whole world and rule over a grave.

“You said shades,” Agron grunted at Thales. “Are they different from the undead we fought in Achlys?”

“These spirits are incorporeal and are immune to conventional weapons,” Thales replied. “Magical weapons and spells affect them normally though. A single blow is enough to cause them to collapse into nothingness. Nor can they cross magical barriers. The outpost was sanctified by [Priests] and [Idols], so they cannot break in.”

“They’re probably dead shades waiting for Charon to carry them across the Styx to their afterlife,” Agron said while nodding to himself. “He has only one skiff, and thousands die each day.”

Which means the dungeon’s third layer must be located inside the Underworld itself, Kairos thought. He hoped they wouldn’t face the likes of Cerberus, Charon, or the Furies. The Underworld housed a dangerous amount of [Demigods], and Thanatos might have allies among them.

“Speaking of skiffs, Lord Kairos, we will need a special boat to travel below the second level.” Thales pointed at the bottled waters of the Lethe river. “My experiments show that this substance erases memories on contact. A boat accident… would be perilous.”

“You have been traveling normally with standard boats so far,” Sertorius pointed out.

“There is a high possibility that we will have to cross other Underworld rivers to reach into the deeper levels, Lord Sertorius.”

“The Lethe and the Styx are dangerous enough, but no wooden boat can withstand the fires of the Phlegethon,” Agron added. “A shame the Foresight is too big to travel underground.”

Kairos considered the problem, and seized one of the Lethe water bottles. After a moment of consideration, he opened it and sipped the liquid while ignoring Thales’ protests. “Sir, wait!”

The Travian expected something sour and terrible, but instead, it tasted like… nothing.

Nothing at all. The liquid lacked any sensation at all, and seemed to drain the very taste from Kairos’ tongue. His lips felt numb and lifeless.

[Oblivion] ailment negated by [Stygian Curse]!

“Sir, do you…” Thales joined his hands in worry. “Do you remember us?”

“Yes, I do. My [Telchine] subclass protects me from the rivers’ negative effects.” Kairos said as he put the bottle aside. He had to lick his lips to feel anything on them. “I wouldn’t recommend drinking this water though. It feels… odd.”

“Be thankful, husband,” Julia said with a hint of scolding. Had she worried for his health? “The last man who drank from it couldn’t remember his own name.”

Thales showed more enthusiasm, and looked at his leader as if he were some kind of wonderful curiosity. “I thought the [Telchine] were extinct. I didn’t know a human could access this subclass… fascinating.”

“The Telchines rowed on the river Styx, if I remember well,” Agron noted.

“They used special skiffs based on Charon’s,” Andromache replied. “The [Telchine Sorcery] Skill gives us insight into the spells they used to master the Underworld’s rivers.”

“We could create a skiff capable of traveling through them,” Kairos said, “but it would be costly.”

“Money isn’t a problem,” Sertorius declared. “Time is. How long will it take to forge a new set of [Horns of Hypnos]?”

Kairos’ Skill immediately gave him the answer. “At least a week for each [Horn of Hypnos]. Plus another week for the skiff if we all work together. As Thales stated, [Elite] Crafters can help with the materials, but not the spells nor the assembly process.”

“We can all work on a separate helmet to cut time,” Andromache suggested. “A priest is only needed in the final stretch of the crafting process.”

Sertorius remained unconvinced. “Making six of them will still take two to three weeks, nearly a month if we include the boat. Considering the second level’s size, it might take us days if not more to explore the third and fourth. We cannot afford to outfit an army, and we do not need to. A small special force will be enough.”

“Agreed,” Kairos said. “I suggest we form a party of seven: Andromache, Cass, Nessus, Agron, Thales, me, and you Sertorius. Rook benefits from my protective magical effects thanks to [Animal Companion], so he should be fine if I wear a helmet.”

Sertorius raised an eyebrow. “We are all [Heroes] except the satyr. Why invite him?”

“We will need someone specialized in disabling traps.”

“You cannot deceive a judge’s eyes, Kairos,” his brother-in-law declared, more amused than anything. “Why are we bringing the satyr with us?”

Damn it, did he have a truth-reading Skill? “It’s not for me to say,” Kairos admitted. His friend was entitled to his privacy. “But Nessus’ destiny lies with the Necromanteion. He will play an important role in this denouement.”

Sertorius’ face remained a blank mask, but he offered a sharp nod. “I see,” he said with an air of finality.

Andromache squinted at the Lycean, and Kairos immediately wondered if putting these two in the same team might have been a bad idea. They had remained icily polite to each other so far, but civility didn’t translate to camaraderie. Thales was part of the crew, now and forever, but Sertorius was an outsider; an in-law.

We’ll have to see how this team fares in the field, Kairos thought before focusing on the matter at hand. “This makes a skiff and five [Horns of Hypnos] to make,” he declared. “Agron already has one, and Thales won’t need one thanks to his racial immunities.”

Thales quickly made calculations. “I believe we can be ready within three weeks.”

“A month,” Agron stated bluntly.

The automaton shifted on his chair. “I am certain we can optimize processes and—”

“A month,” Agron repeated himself. “I know you, crafters. When you say three weeks, you mean one month.”

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In the end, Agron proved to be overly optimistic. They blew his deadline by three days.

For a whole month, Kairos left most of Histria’s rulings in Julia’s capable hands and dedicated himself to crafting; by the end, he almost considered Thales’ workshop a second home. It wasn’t as if he could do much otherwise. Winter was a slow season, with everyone staying at home to gather around the fires. Even the over-enthusiastic Rook rarely left his nest.

Truth be told, Kairos enjoyed the peace and monotony. His trip had left him exhausted, and it felt good to simply slow down for once.

The news from Travia bothered him, however.

Kairos had sent Tiberius, Nausicaa, and his mother to his homeland for the winter, to both offer food relief and weaken Teuta’s support base. Surviving members of her fleet had already spread the word of her defeat, and though a few warlords remained steadfastly loyal to the pirate queen, others had already withdrawn their support. More and more previously indecisive cities called to join Kairos’ federation, as they feared being on the losing side.

However, Teuta’s response bothered her rival. Instead of trying to turn the tide, the pirate queen had ordered her fleets to burn their secret factories and prepare to cross to Thessala as soon as she gave the signal.

This could only mean one thing.

Mithridates’ weapon was operational, and the Poison King didn’t want anyone to figure out how it worked. And Teuta thought its power would cause Travia to fall in line, so she didn’t bother trying diplomacy. She only believed in strength.

But to prove his weapon’s power, Mithridates needed to make an example.

Julia had tripled sea patrols around their colony to avoid any surprise attack, while Histria’s fleets were ready to act at a moment’s notice. Her brother’s presence made an attack tempting, but somehow Kairos didn’t believe Mithridates would go for it; killing Sertorius before he attacked the League first would only harden Lyce’s resolve to see the Poison King destroyed.

Thessala is holding the Olympic Games, and Mithridates will be present, Kairos thought. I will need to watch those events carefully. He didn’t think the city-state was at risk, not as long as the [Demigod] Talos protected it… but Mithridates had surprised him in the past and might do so again.

Besides weaving spells inside copies of the [Horns of Hypnos] and the wood used to make their skiff, the Travian warlord experimented with the river samples collected by Thales. As Kairos suspected, his [Poison Brewer] Skill allowed him to refine the Lethe river’s waters into bombs and chemical weapons. The ability to erase people’s memories could prove invaluable in the field, if used right. Kairos made a note to set up a water-extraction operation in the second level once they had conquered the dungeon.

In the end, it took a while, but Kairos and his fellow crafters could finally gaze at their masterpiece.

Carved from blackened wood, their skiff would make Charon proud. Made of wood as black as night and covered in fiery glyphs, the boat could house more than seven people at once; its head ended in a griffin’s face, as Kairos knew Rook would sulk otherwise. A long black rod completed the picture.

Telchine Skiff.

Rank: Vehicle 3.

Value: 25000 Gold Coins

A boat used by the extinct Telchine race to travel across the Underworld. The skiff can carry up to eight people and protect them from the five rivers of Hades so long as they remain in contact with it. Additionally, shades of the dead will mistake the passengers for fellow undead and will not attack them.

“Strange,” Kairos said. “So far, every item I’ve seen with a Rank of 3 has been registered as priceless.”

“Because they are unique, sir,” Thales explained. “So the Fate System usually defaults to ‘priceless’ when there isn’t a market for a particular item.”

Which implied that more than one [Telchine Skiff] still existed in the world. Still, twenty-five thousand gold coins was a hefty price; only nations or wealthy investors could buy one. Building this skiff had cost Kairos and his team far less than the marked price, but he was thankful to Sertorius for covering the material fees.

At last, they were ready to delve into the Necromanteion.

River Lethe, Kairos thought, here we come.

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A/N: chapter made possible by you, dear patrons.

The breather chapters are over; now it's time to dungeon-crawl.