All The Skills - A Deckbuilding LitRPG

Book 5 Chapter 23 - Congratulations and Condolences

Somebody coughed behind Arthur. He glanced back to see Griff, the Uncommon rider, standing awkwardly in the cave mouth opening.

Arthur turned back to Brixaby, but his dragon seemed to have this covered.

So Arthur gestured for Griff to follow him back into the room. Behind him, he heard buzzes as one by one, the Purples rejected the hopefuls and lifted into the air. Five more took their place, all under Brixaby's baleful eye.

Once inside, Arthur looked at Griff. "I sent for you yesterday."

The man stood tense, a couple of degrees from being at full attention stance, though the look in his eyes said he was not impressed. "There was an eruption. I was busy."

"You didn't tell me about the blood price."

He blinked. "Why should I?”

I don't think he realizes that this isn't how hives usually work, Arthur thought, but he said, "And I noticed that neither you or any of the other Uncommons have paid the blood price to me."

"Oh." Griff visibly relaxed. Though he didn't have a mind reading card, the older man’s expression was so open that Arthur could practically read his thoughts. He assumed that Arthur was annoyed that he hadn't been paid yet. "We normally pay the captain of the Blue Sky wing. He can get nasty if the blood price isn't on time."

Griff paused. "Uh, I don't understand."

No, of course he wouldn't, Arthur thought. He got the impression that low rankers like Griff had to look out for themselves. They weren't used to anybody else looking out for them. He tried another tack. "How much is the blood price?"

"Two Uncommon a day," Griff said like it was obvious.

"It's one Uncommon a day."

Griff stared at him for a moment, then his jaw clenched. "How sure are you?"

"I heard it from Legendary Chester's mouth myself." Before Griff could react, Arthur went on, "So how do you and the other Uncommons collect your shards? Because you're not getting them from delivering supplies. I checked with the quartermaster."

This was mostly a lie, as the quartermaster did not pay that much attention and didn't have notes on who delivered what. But Arthur hadn't seen any Uncommons swooping in with supplies—or rescues, for that matter—so it was a good guess.

Sure enough, Griff looked away.

"You're going after other dragons' kills, aren't you? Before they can swoop in to harvest," Arthur said. "You have combat cards?"

"Not good ones," Griff admitted. "Squish is a monster in the air. He's not as fast as other Purples—you saw that for yourself—but he's still more maneuverable than other dragons. We take them by surprise. We're good at that."

Stealth card? Arthur wondered silently. He flashed back to when he was twelve years old. During his first eruption he saw a pink dragon taken by surprise and killed by other dragons. Everything had been all chaos, and he was too young to wonder which hive that had been. But now... he wondered.

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Purples were small, but they were still dragons. And if they were directed by riders who knew the stakes and feared for their lives... how far would people go to keep their life force from being sucked dry? Were Griff and Squish dragon killers?

Somehow, he didn't think so. But he didn't doubt that either one of them could do some damage if they were cornered.

"Okay," Arthur said. "That was the first reason I called you in."

He waited a beat, and Griff let out a sigh, playing along. "And the second reason, sir?"

"The second reason," Arthur grinned tightly, "is that you're here to be promoted. You're now my second in command of Wing Purple. Congratulations and condolences."

The older man just stared at him in flat disbelief. "You're serious? What's the catch?"

"Much more work and responsibility," Arthur said. "Luckily, since I'm an honest man, I just reduced your blood price by half. It's only one Uncommon shard from here on out, and you're to pay it to me directly."

"The Blue Sky wing captain isn't going to like that."

"Then send him to me."

"You may not like that," Griff said. "He's a son of a bitch, and you're..." He looked Arthur up and down, and Arthur knew what he saw: He was young, new to the hive, and certainly a bit skinny. Maybe he'd always be that way, considering his upbringing. But Arthur didn't take offense. He had some nasty cards up his sleeve, and a nastier dragon to back it up.

Griff clearly knew better than to finish that thought out loud, and just said, "Then what are your orders...sir?"

Well, he was certainly getting with the program faster than Arthur could have hoped. Though, it was likely because he thought it was easier to play along, and maybe count on being there to catch Arthur once he screwed up.

"First thing is I want you to make sure that the rest of the Uncommons know that they are to pay me the proper blood price so I can send it up to leadership. And..." He chewed his words over for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to say it. But then he just came out and said it. "Find out if anyone is running short on shards. I need to know, sooner rather than later.”

Griff nodded once. "Sunny. You know, the blonde? She didn't have a successful eruption yesterday."

"If she's short on the three shards, tell me," Arthur said. "I'll cover it until the next eruption."

"What, for free?” Griff stared like he wasn’t sure Arthur was making a joke. “Just like that? Why?"

"Because things are changing around here," Arthur replied with a touch of irritation. "And also because I want my wing functioning well. It can't do that if one of the riders is sucked dry of energy."

Griff seemed to believe the second reason more. He nodded, and Arthur saw a bit of tension leave his shoulders. Power was the language that he knew. It made Arthur a little sad.

"And Griff," Arthur said, "you're also to send the message that when the next eruption comes, there will be no more hunting other dragon riders."

"We don't kill," Griff said quickly with a scowl that Arthur believed. "We aren't assassins."

Which likely meant that someone else in this hive was. Not that Arthur was surprised.

"But you do injure," Arthur said.

"Not pairs from our hive."

"It doesn't matter. The real enemy are the scourglings, and we need every dragon rider out to fight them."

Now Griff was back to looking at him like he might be slightly insane. "I don't see why it matters much. There are plenty of other dragon riders,"

Arthur sighed. How was he going to get through to this man?

"But," Griff said before Arthur answered, "I suppose orders are orders. Is that all you need from me?" There was an undertone of 'Don't press your luck, kid' to his words. Well, he at least seemed to be somewhat on board, even if he didn't understand why.

"One more thing," Arthur said and hesitated. This was going to be the trickiest part. "If a card isn't working with somebody, I need to know about it."

He blinked. "Sir?"

"You're riding Purples," Arthur said. “And some of you have combat cards which might interfere with their natural magic. If that is happening, well, my dragon and I have a utility card that may smooth the way.”

“No offense,” Griff said slowly, “but I don’t think anyone will be eager to share if they have combat cards, if you catch my meaning.”

Because then others could know how to counteract them. Or worse, they could be tied to past misdeeds.

“Just put the word out,” Arthur said. “If someone wants to speak to me about that issue, they can speak to me.”

Griff looked around the sparsely appointed room. “Um, you’ll be here?”

"No," Arthur said, "I'll be at the dragon hatchery for the rest of the day." And he hoped things there weren’t run like they were with the rest of the hive, but he didn’t have high hopes.