CC 11: Thunderplump ~ Three!

“No.”

Even though he had been expecting it, Joe had to keep his face still so that he didn't show how annoyed he was at the instant rejection. “It’s always such a pleasure to get your opinion out of the way first, Master Frenzy. Truly, of all the members of this council, you have the most stony stare. Now, if you would switch that over to a stony silence, I would-”

“Joe. Enough of the jests.” Grandmaster Snow waved her hand tiredly, “If I wanted to be around bickering rivals I’d attend the front lines of our defenses, not sit at this prestigious table. I'll admit, I too am wondering how you think a structure devoted to the weapons of our enemies being built among us is the best path forward in the short-term.”

“Thank you for the opportunity to make my case, Grandmaster.” Joe inclined his head at the ancient Dwarf, showcasing his very real respect. “The fact of the matter is, we only have a fraction of the ranged weapons that we need. My towers are filling that void, for the moment, but as more and more Beast Waves arrive, I’m certain they just won't be enough. A single point of failure is still a failure.”

When he paused to gather his thoughts, no one interrupted. Joe took this as a sign that they recognized the issue as well, but were just too proud to admit that fact. “As you all know, we’re surrounded by very tall walls. I don't know a single member of the Legion that carries a bow, a crossbow, or has more than a few simple spells for a little bit of range. Imagine if we could turn the advantages of our enemies against them when they come calling. We have thousands upon thousands of humans ready to wield these weapons. Trusted individuals, yes, as well as defectors that are trying to prove their dedication to our cause. Let me make this happen.”

The counselors conferred for a few moments, and Frenzy took it upon himself to speak for them. He practically spat his words at the Ritualist, working to meet his eye so that he could try and intimidate the bald human into lying. “Even if we say no, aren't you just going to go and do it anyway?”

“Frankly… I'd rather just not have to find out.” Joe calmly stated, not bothering to join in the staring contest the Dwarf was trying to initiate. He held up a gem-encrusted coffee mug, then pulled a few more out of his storage while handing them out. They were definitely not bribes. “The first time I ever made this item, was the first time that I found my first piece of Jotunheim’s history. Back then, I didn't realize what it represented, but now I see it as the clue that it was. All of you have the ability to see what I'm talking about, please feel free.”

“Ebonsteel eternal… coffee mug?” The Grandmaster was the one who actually followed through. “Is this a joke? Oh… I see what you mean. ‘The design was perfected throughout the ages, though this mug was first forged for a general on the front lines of the fifty-eighth of a hundred waves on Jotunheim as he struggled to defend that plane’s first and—to this day—final City.”

“If this is correct,” Joe looked around the room with his deep set eyes, trying to push through to everyone that would have a say in this decision, “Then every upgrade we've struggled through to this point will be laughably easy compared to what we will be struggling through. Going from a Village to a Town only required twenty-five waves, but the next rank will have four times as many. If it follows the same pattern, that means there will be twenty waves with elites. At least ten Boss Monsters. Then, likely some super creature that’s leading all of them. If we aren’t prepared to attack at range, we’ll be inflicting paper cuts on their toes instead of critical strikes on weak areas.”

Silence filled the room for a few moments, until a Dwarf Joe didn’t recognize, likely a proxy for one of the council members, rubbed at his beard in deep thought and spoke quietly. “Could it be that our entire history with the Elves was intentionally fostered to ensure that there’d be no way for us to break through the bottleneck that is Jotunheim, the prison world?”

“How dare you impugn the honor of our ancestors like that!” Master Frenzy lashed out instantly, his eyes flaring with heat as he reached for a weapon at his side; only to find that his greaves had been sewn to his seat with some deft Mana Manipulation.

The Grandmaster stared at Master Frenzy until he stopped struggling to fight, then turned her attention to the Ritualist. “It’s a fact that our records do not have the true reason why our conflict has raged for so long. An outside power inciting us so that we would be forever trapped is not outside the bounds of possibility.”

“This design is Daniella’s-”

“Elven sympathizer!” Frenzy ground out.

“-as are the new designs for the high-ranked towers we’re going to be installing over the next few days. She’s been instrumental in helping us to bring our defenses to the next level so far. If she's good enough to fortify our Town, why can't she donate her skills and knowledge to enhance our overall arsenal?” Joe shrugged lightly, an annoyed expression lingering on his face. “If it's only because she made a mistake in her past, I submit that none of us should have any say in any matter that-”

“Yes, yes, there are plenty of strawman arguments on both sides.” Grandmaster Snow cut him off. Her fingers drummed on the table in front of her, leaving divots behind in the dense wood as she considered the pros and cons. “Your… friend has much experience, not to mention research notes and blueprints from the Elven Theocracy. If she’s truly being so generous as to want to have these created, why is she withholding them from the council instead of donating them directly?”

“Why does any Dwarf charge for their expertise? If everything she can do is public domain, how would she earn her own living? Not to mention the very real concern that as soon as the documents were presented,” here Joe turned to stare at the wiggling, red-faced, furious Dwarf glued to his chair, “They might be ‘accidentally’ damaged beyond usability.”

“I’ll allow it… for two reasons.” Snow held up her hand to prevent anyone from trying to speak out over her. “I believe that, once upon a time, she was intended as the cornerstone of the Elven foothold for this world. I've had many conversations with her, and she has been privy to research, strategies, and granted blueprints that we simply don't have. The first reason I will allow it, is for our benefit in terms of defense, as you put forward. The second, which I'm certain you’ll like far less, Joe, is so we can use her and her buildings as bait for any of the sympathizers that managed to escape our net. When they make a move on her, the trap will close.”

“That’s… not my favorite reasoning ever, but-” Joe stalled out as Snow continued.

“On one condition.” Her lips were thin and pressed together as she wrestled with her words. “Bringing in Elven influence is like mixing ale with water. It dilutes our traditions and makes people angry. Based on what you’ve told us, even our enemies recognize that there will be issues that a simple exile won’t fix. If you want this to happen, before anything else is erected, you will build a prison capable of containing anyone who could be a threat to us.”

“Including yourself!” Frenzy demanded instantly, earning a dark look from everyone else in the room; though Joe noticed that not a single person countermanded him.

The Ritualist didn't mind at all, in fact, a smirk was growing on his face. “You know, tradition is like a good cup of coffee in the morning. It's comforting, reliable, and lets you push through things that might otherwise seem too tedious. But sometimes it takes a shot of espresso added to your cup to push through the toughest days. If I'm not wrong, we’ve got a lot of tough days coming at us. I'll make you your prison. But if you think it’ll keep me in it? I'll laugh in your face as my rituals turn your insides into your outsides the first time you try to test it.”

He’d intentionally waited until the very end of the meeting to put forward his request, and could now swirl around dramatically and leave the room without incurring any penalties. Grasping the handle and pulling the door open, Joe paused and spoke without looking behind him. “You all know that I’m the Apprentice of Havoc. I'd like you all to understand something. It may have taken me a while… but now I know what that means.”

As he closed the door behind him, the smirk turned into a full-blown smile as he heard someone curse softly under their breath.

“Well, feces.”