Rebirth of the Nephilim

It was strange to be on the road again. Not because she wasn’t used to it by now; far from it. Sabina preferred a nice warm bed and a table to sit at for breakfast in the morning, but she had spent plenty of time camping on the road when traveling between cities in the past. Plus, the weeks of being out in the forest on the expedition had acclimatized her to the whole nomadic lifestyle thing. Still, going from a warm summer’s day in a sunny meadow to a freezing winter forest covered in a foot of snow was a difficult transition.

The Dryads had been such good people during their short stay. So many interesting botanical ingredients, so many fascinating and foreign enchantments. Sabina felt like she could spend years in their grove just studying all of their unique Dryad enchantment techniques. Well, maybe not all at once. She’d need breaks to go back to somewhere with a forge. Dryads didn’t do much metal-working, or so they had explained, which was just absolutely criminal in her opinion, but she wasn’t going to be rude and tell the Dryads that. They had their ways and clearly they worked out for them. For Sabina, however, the emulation of Dryad enchantments would only go so far as the spellwork. There was no way she could ever abandon the forge. She would instead look for ways to incorporate Dryad techniques into her own creations. For example, Sorcha’s new foot was an amazing work of spell craft, what with its ability to move with all the same precision and articulation of a natural limb. She’d already spent hours examining it and felt like she still had hundreds more to go before she truly understood the mechanics. But how much better would it be if the foot was made of steel? If she could make Sorcha’s foot out of metal, well, then she might not even want to get her old foot regrown! A limb made of metal would be so much stronger and more durable than anything made of flesh!

Wait. There was the problem of physical sensation. Sorcha couldn’t feel anything through her replacement foot. If Sabina’s hypothetical metal foot was also just as incapable of feeling touch, then Sorcha would probably still want her old foot back. Sabina knew she herself wouldn’t want to go through life without physical feeling. Maybe one limb was tolerable, but still. Metal flesh sounded far superior to the regular meaty kind, but there were also some glaring drawbacks. It was too much fun having sex, for one thing. Sabina would never give up sex with Jadis just for a durable metal body. Not that she was having sex with her foot, or anyone else’s for that matter. Though she’d heard some people did have some kind of sex involving feet. How that worked though was a mystery. Maybe Sorcha knew. Maybe Sorcha was into that kind of thing herself? If she was, the loss of a foot was definitely a problem since she couldn’t feel anything through the replacement.

But what about Golems? Metethys’ divine children were made of stone. Could they feel touch like someone made of flesh and blood? Sabina had never met a Golem so she’d never had the opportunity to ask. She’d never thought of the question before even if she had had the opportunity. Not that she necessarily needed to talk to a Golem directly, she could probably find that information out in a book or by talking to someone more knowledgeable than her like Aila or Eir or maybe someone more worldly like Kerr or Noll. But if she had the chance to speak with a Golem, she could be more precise in her information gathering. She might even be able to glean some ideas on how to make it so that a metal limb could feel physical touch the same way a flesh one did, presuming that Golems did feel like she expected they could the same as everyone else. But if they couldn’t feel, maybe there was—

Sabina was jostled out of her thoughts by a sudden bump that sent the whole wagon bouncing. The bounce was big enough that she fell halfway off the box she’d claimed as a seat. Scrambling to her feet, she moved unsteadily to the front door of the wagon and pulled it open to check on what was happening outside.

Aila turned her head to glance at Sabina as she opened the door, an apologetic expression on her face.

“Sorry, Sabina,” she said. “Unavoidable ditch in the road.”

“Are you alright?” Eir asked from where she sat next to Aila. “I hope none of your crafting experiments were damaged.”

Sabina smiled at the two, her tone as cheery as she felt.

“All good! Everything I’ve been doing this morning has been in my head so far, so no trouble at all!”

“That’s good then,” Eir smiled warmly back at her. “Make sure you don’t spend all day in the wagon though, Sabina. It’s cold out here, but fresh air is better for you than being locked away in a stuffy wagon.”

“It’s not so stuffy,” Sabina laughed at Eir’s motherly concerns. “It’s a lot less stuffy than my first tiny workshop space, that’s for certain. I didn’t have any dead drakes hanging in the back though, so that’s a downgrade, but overall it isn’t too bad! Are we making good time?”

“Yes,” Aila answered her question while keeping her eyes on the road ahead. “Not as fast as when Jadis pulls us, but steady.”

Sabina nodded as her gaze drifted from the two women to the four Stone Crusher Goats that were pulling the wagon instead of Jadis.

The speed was definitely lacking, she had to agree with Aila. But speed was also relative, and at some times not as welcome as other times. Jadis could definitely pull the Behemoth faster than the goats, but when she went past a certain limit, the ride was so jostling and unstable that not only could Sabina not work on anything, she could barely even think since it felt like her brain was going to bounce out of her skull. The metal spring suspension that Jadis had suggested for the wagon was good, but not that good. The goats were slower, yes, but they definitely weren’t moving at a crawl either.

Stone Crusher Goats were a magic beast Sabina knew were native to the Kalters Wall mountain range. She’d seen the skins and horns of the beasts back in Far Felsen, the prizes of hunters who had braved the tall mountains. She didn’t know too much about them other than they were relatively harmless creatures that mostly just stuck to the mountains and ate pinecones. She’d also heard that they had the strength to crush boulders with blows from their short but solid horns, hence the name.

The goats were certainly strong enough to pull the wagon. Besides, since they had the soldiers’ wagon and all the captured smugglers to bring with them, it wasn’t as though they could go at Jadis speeds anyway. A caravan could only move as fast as its slowest cart. Or the people walking on foot. Whichever.

Since they were hers, Jadis had named the goats. Sabina wasn’t certain which was which, the four all looked the same to her, but the names were memorable, if for no other reason than their oddness. She hadn’t explained where the names had come from other than “stories from her old home.” Sabina supposed that considering Jadis’ old home was gone, it would be insensitive to ask too many questions and bring up sad memories. But the names really were strange and she had a burning curiosity to learn the stories behind them. The names her Nephilim friend had chosen had been Billy, Phil, Pan, and Tumnus. Definitely foreign names. Unless Pan was a reference to the cookware, in which case Sabina had even more questions.

Thinking about the goats caused Sabina’s gaze to drift to the side where she saw a fifth goat, this one very different from the others.

Big and mossy and with much more extravagant horns, the extra goat ambled along next to the wagon, its big strides keeping pace with the four slightly smaller animals. He seemed to feel Sabina’s attention, turning his head slightly so his goat-like eyes met her stare.

“Do you need something my enchanter friend?” Tegwyn called out, his voice shockingly unchanged despite his appearance. “Or should I say, enchanting friend? Your lovely smile graces us all!”

“No, I’m fine,” she replied, raising her voice to be heard over the noise of the rumbling wagon. “Also, I’m not enchanting anything just at the moment, so I guess enchanter is fine. Unless you were making some kind of play on words, which now that I say it out loud, I think you were. So, if you were, thank you!”

“You are most welcome,” Tegwyn laughed at her response for some reason.

Sabina wasn’t sure where the humor was, but then again Tegwyn always seemed to be laughing. He was a jolly man, which reminded her of her father. Not much else was similar, her father definitely couldn’t turn into a giant goat, but the general aura of merriment was comfortably familiar.

She wondered how wise it was for the Dryad to come with them back to Far Felsen. She had thought he would want to stay with his own kin to help protect them in case any more demons showed up to attack their grove, but apparently not. He wanted to travel the world, see new places, and find a nice Dryad woman who could stand his presence well enough to mate and make little Dryad babies. His words, not Sabina’s.

Besides, as Tegwyn had explained, Jack had promised Yorath that he’d stick around for a while to help protect the grove against further incidents. Jadis had seemed doubtful, but Sabina saw no reason to distrust the weird Fetch prankster. He hadn’t done anything malicious so far. Besides, he and Yorath had been friends for a long time. Surely that meant the old Dryad knew how trustworthy Jack was.

“Hey, is everything alright?”

The groggy voice coming from behind her made Sabina look back over her shoulder. She saw her witch friend stick her head out from between the blankets she had nested herself inside in a corner of the large wagon interior. She had been sleeping since the return trip had begun, begging off from any conversation. She’d cited a lack of sleep from the night before, the experience of watching all the others have sex had been too distracting, apparently.

“Everything’s fine!” Sabina chirped.

With a wave to the others outside, she closed the door to the wagon and made her way over to Sorcha. Sitting down heavily with a thump on the floor next to her friend, she smiled happily at the goblin.

“We’re making good progress. I think we’ll probably be back in Far Felsen in less than two weeks so long as the weather doesn’t get worse before then.”

“Cheers to that,” Sorcha grumbled tiredly as she flopped back down into her nest. “I’m so bloody tired of being in this damn forest.”

“Anything I can do to make you feel better?” Sabina asked, hoping she could do something to comfort her friend. “Other than get you out of the forest faster, that is. I can’t do that, I’m not faster than the goats. But I can get you something to eat or drink?”

Sorcha eyed Sabina with an appraising look, her right eye squinting.

“Can you do something about these?” Sorcha held up her shackled hands, the manacles around her wrists clinking as they were freed from the muffling effects of the blankets. “It’s hard to get a good sleep wearing these bastards. Uncomfortable as talking about sex with your father.”

Sabina knew she must have made a face because Sorcha was quick to continue, waving one hand apologetically.

“I don’t mean to take them off. I know you can’t do that. But something to make it so they don’t chafe my skin? I don’t have the insane Fortitude stats some of you lot have. Metal on skin hurts.”

Sabina nodded knowingly.

“Yes, it would. That’s why we have to make padding for armor. Even when you have high Fortitude, no one likes to have hard, sharp bits poking them. I think I can make something for your wrists that’ll help. Give me a little while and I’ll see what I can do!”

Getting to her feet without waiting for a response, Sabina strode across the length of the wagon interior to reach the back end. The inside was filled with crates and packages, including the preserved meat of the drakes and other beasts that had been slain during their expedition. Even with so much stuff crammed inside the wagon, there was still lots of space. The spacious vehicle truly was marvelously huge.

Reaching the spot she was looking for, Sabina began rummaging through the various crates that contained her crafting supplies. She was running low on leather since she’d used so much of it already on boots and collars and things, but she still had lots of cloth. She was no seamstress, but she figured she could make something easily enough that could be slipped between the manacles and Sorcha’s wrists that would ease her friend’s discomfort. Of course, finding the cloth she needed was the hard part.

There were just so many crates. There were small ones appropriate enough for packing away various sundries, big ones that larger supplies like sacks of tubers could fit, and huge ones that contained the smaller ones to help keep things organized. Of course, Sabina hadn’t thought to label any of the crates, so the organization was of limited effectiveness. Nothing ever seemed to be where she left it, with various boxes placed out of order or winding up in wholly different spots from where she last placed it. A common problem when many different hands stored crates in the wagon without proper coordination or a sorting system. Scrambling around for a few minutes, occasionally bouncing forward and back as the wagon rocked, Sabina finally found what she was looking for. A medium-ish crate that was filled with various padded cloths.

“I knew I had you somewhere!” She proclaimed as she held the wooden box up. “Thought you were in the big one there, but you were in the other big one here, but I found you anyway so it’s all good!”

Sabina chuckled at her own silliness. She didn’t normally talk to her crafting supplies, but her mood was high as the sky whenever she thought about them. She had so many great materials to work with once she got back to Far Felsen. Just the sight of the boxes that Yorath and the Dryads had given her made her giddy.

Which meant her mind immediately switched to thinking about all the amazing enchanted items that her friends had been given. Gods, Sabina was going to have so much fun analyzing those runes so she could try and replicate and improve them. She had so many ideas already just from a brief look at Aila’s staff alone!

Sabina rushed back over to Sorcha, a spring in her step unrelated to the bounciness of the wagon. She had so much to do and so little time, or so it seemed to her. She could worry about reorganizing the crates later. First, she would do something about Sorcha’s wrists, then she would see if Aila or one of the others would let her take a look at their new enchanted items.

It was so much fun being an enchanter!