356 356 Gormana Is Different
“Charge the Generator? Oh, like a storage inscription? what good would that do on a diesel generator?” The man seated beside the more talkative one asked.
“If they’ve got some mana crystals and a Lightning Inscription, you can run the generator with the Diesel engine off. All the power, none of the smell. It’s tiring for the Witches because they need to charge the crystals. It was expensive in the Fortress City, but they might be able to make it affordable here in the village.” Ella explained.
The witches looked intrigued. Most of these Witches were not very strong, so they wouldn’t have learned that sort of Inscription in the Academy, as it was taught in the second year. There were likely more than a few in town who could, but they might never have tried.
“How much mana does it take?” The Witch asked.
“Depending on the size of the generator, ten to fifty units a day. As I said, it wasn’t cheap, but if you’re running a mechanics shop, you need power for the tools and the air compressor.” Ella explained.
The witches looked lost, but the soldiers nodded in understanding. Their mechanics were constantly busy with the tanks and trucks. When you were on the move, there was always something to fix in a convoy, and that meant they needed power.
Fortunately, the tanks had large air compressors, and the tools could be run off of that.
Ella dug in her bag and pulled out a sketchbook, then opened a blank page and carefully drew out the inscription, stopping unnecessarily to make it look like she was having a hard time remembering.
She also put a few small errors into it, enough that it wouldn’t quite work but close enough that any Witch who had learned to read basic runes could fix it in a second.
“Here, it looks like this. Do you think you can make that for them?” Ella asked, handing it over to the Witches.
They smiled at the inscription. “Yes, I do believe that we can fix this so it works to power the generator. Who would have thought that a human from the slums could come in useful?”
The soldiers did their best not to bristle at the comment, as they too were humans from the slums, though different ones than she was talking about. But they couldn’t do much if they didn’t want to get in trouble with their superiors, so they just let it slide until the Witches were out of the Inn, presumably heading to the generator that powered the village.
“Good riddance. Most of the Witches have a bit of a complex, but those two have always been a pain in the arse. Next time you’re here, watch out for them and their lackeys. They’ll make it hard for you. Just ask the scouts to bring you to the Captain of the Watch, and he can arrange for you to get into the village under our care.” The soldier whispered to Wolfe as soon as the door closed behind them.
“Got it. I think we will drop in here often if the beer stays this cold. We got good at hunting when we were in the Wastes, and we just got new swords.” Wolfe replied with a wink.
The bartender brought them another round, and the soldiers began to explain the game of cricket to Wolfe’s group while they waited for the food to be ready.
“There isn’t as much rationing here since it’s a Witch village, but there are a lot more people than there were last year, so the Gardens are struggling to keep up. The more you can find the villages in the swamps to eat, the more likely they are to treat you well.
The Monster that you brought here today has some value to them for their Witchcraft, but the tonne of meat is more important to them, I think. We might not be able to eat it, but they’re good with monsters and don’t need nearly as much.” The soldier sighed.
Wolfe could practically see the logistical concerns flash behind his eyes at the mention of smaller rations, but his chatty nature had caught the attention of some of his superiors.
“Is there anything that you haven’t told a table full of perfect strangers yet?” The officer asked as he stomped over to the conversation.
“What’s that then? We were just talking about finding food for the Witches to keep them happy. You know, happy wife, happy life.” The soldier replied while his friends silently distanced themselves from him.
Wolfe hadn’t noticed just how drunk the man was since he wasn’t slurring his speech, but his judgement was clearly impaired, going by the rage on the officer’s face.
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Wolfe could see this going very bad, very quickly, but Christa was right on the ball with her answer.
“Honestly, as long as you’re not the ones who have been kidnapping everyone in sight, I don’t see any harm in working out a deal with the villages. You’re here, and they’re here. If you want to work together to help everyone out, more power to you.
Your people didn’t give us any trouble about coming in to trade, which is better than we can expect in a lot of places, so I don’t have any problems with it.” She told him with a soft smile and an agreeable nod from Grok.
He had been beaten, abused and murdered in the past, so these people who ignored his existence and let him have beer were all right in his mind.
Christa hadn’t noticed yet that the Goblin was drinking, and nobody had bothered to mention it to her, as they just took the Familiar as another member of the party. The soldiers weren’t well versed in Witch customs, so when Wolfe ordered rounds, everyone at the table got a drink, and he wasn’t left out as a Witch-run establishment would have done.
The Gormana Officer looked around at the group suspiciously but sighed and nodded. “Welcome to the village then, I guess. You know enough now that I had expected you to panic about the presence of foreign Humans, but if you’re not going to, then I suppose you’re alright.”
Wolfe laughed and clapped the officer on the shoulder, sitting him down at a vacant seat with a strength that startled the older man.
“You forget that we’re not from a Coven. Come and have a drink with us. We’ve already finished our trades and just want to relax and have fun for the night.”
And have fun they did. It was after midnight when the Innkeeper chased them all out of the bar, and Wolfe brought the very drunk Witches up to their room.
Grok stood guard at the door while Wolfe tucked Ella and Christa into the only bed in the room that they were given and took the futon mattress that had been spread on the floor for their extra person.
Christa would curse him in the morning because Ella was impossible to disentangle when she had been drinking, like a human octopus, but they could rest soundly with a ward in the room and the Goblin Paladin on watch.