All The Skills - A Deckbuilding LitRPG-Book 5: Wing Captain

The bells clanged at full force as Arthur ran into the crater beside the hive complex.

He spared a moment to wonder if he should change out of his civilian clothes and into something more rider-like and professional. Certainly, the other wing captains had close-fit uniforms on with Blood Moon insignia sewn on. Plus what looked like panels of armor to protect vital organs.

After a moment, he decided to forgo the uniform. He wasn’t sure where he would find one, and he was short on time.

Besides, Wing Purple was always the last to arrive at the eruption, and now he had reason to believe he had a target on his back. The last thing he should do was stand out in the crowd.

Brixaby was flying about fifty feet up, buzzing back and forth in a basic search pattern to find him. Upon spotting Arthur, he dived and landed with his usual pinpoint accuracy right at Arthur’s side. His bloodred eyes were bright and excited for the eruption to come.

Wordlessly, Arthur vaulted up and took his seat. The moment he was secure on his neck, Brixaby took to the sky again.

The crater itself was a hive of activity—Arthur winced at the pun—with dragons in all colors, shapes, and sizes flying back and forth to and from the assembling wings, some doing last-second chores. He heard orders being shouted, people speaking over each other, and even some minor hisses and growls as dragons from other wings vied for preferred places.

He touched Brixaby’s neck. “Tell Joy and Cressida that we wish them good luck.”

Brixaby swung his head around in the direction he was pointing, then stilled in concentration as he mentally sent the message.

This far away, Arthur could not see Cressida’s reaction. But Joy raised both of her wings almost straight up in the air in the equivalent of a dragon wave.

Grinning, Arthur turned away and made himself concentrate on his own wing.

Wing Purple was assembling in the same spot in the crater as before. Off to the side and easily forgotten.

It looked like almost everybody had arrived. As usual, the larger Uncommons were the center of attention with their groups—or fan clubs—of riderless Commons clustered around them.

The new additions had shown up as well. Thackeray and Steve stood a little off to the side with their dragons, both looking nervous and proud. Amanda stood there, too, her little green dragon looking around with wide eyes and a mat of tiny pink and white flowers growing up beneath her feet. It must be a nervous tick.

The new riders seemed to have gathered their own mini flock of admirers. Some of the Common greens were looking at Candy Floss and Bolt with open jealousy. Arthur wondered if even more would show up next time he offered them prospective riders.

However, all eyes turned to Arthur and Brixaby as they flew in.

He felt Brixaby swell up with pride, his head and neck lifting higher, his neck arching up. He loved being the center of attention.

“Brixaby,” Arthur said, and pointed upward to where a few Common greens were hovering to chat with one another.

Brixaby understood right away and belted out a sharp, “Settle down and land!”

He must have added a touch of his Stunning Shout because conversations between dragons of nearby wings stopped, and even more eyes turned their way.

However, it was more than effective at getting the flighty purples to settle themselves.

Brixaby continued hovering few body lengths above the ground. Arthur didn’t have access to the Stunning Shout as it was an aspect of Brixaby’s Call of the Void, but he accessed his Leadership skill and projected his own voice.

“Wing Purple! As some of you know, this eruption came a little earlier than forecasted. Our primary goal today will be to rescue people. I don’t care if they’re a peasant or a nobleman. Get everybody out and get them here to safety.” He swept his gaze around to make sure that everyone was paying strict attention. There were some carefully blank expressions from some of the Uncommon riders, but no one looked outright rebellious at the directive to not collect expensive goods. “Secondary goals,” he said, “are the livestock and animals.”

This caused a few confused looks among them. Arthur elaborated, “Every cow, sheep, chicken, and goat that we save from the mouths of scourglings, we save for ourselves.”

This seemed to be a popular idea with the Common purples, who chirped with excitement. Then a side conversation broke out among a cluster of them over who could gather the most chickens in the quickest amount of time.

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Brixaby turned his baleful stare on them, and they calmed down again.

“Thirdly.” Arthur reached into his sadly depleted Personal Space and pulled out strips of red ribbon. He had gotten this tagging system from the New Houston sheriffs, so when he had spotted ribbon among the quartermaster’s things, of course he demanded it. He had received it, too, at no cost, though he’d gotten a weird look.

He made a show of handing the cut ribbons to Thackeray. The wing was small, and by now people knew that he used to be a merchant. Also, anyone with eyes could see that his undersized purple could not fly rescue with her riders.

“Once the initial sweeps for people and livestock are done, you’re to go back and look for the red tags. Anything red-tagged by Thackeray is of extreme priority. He used to be a merchant, and he knows what will sell, so even it doesn’t look useful to you, grab it.

“I’ve had a word with the quartermaster. You’re to check in with him and his assistants any time you drop off goods or people—yes, make sure you get credit for people!” They should have always gotten credit, but between having no captain, disorganization, and certain officials looking the other way and probably pocketing the shards, that hadn’t been a priority. “Make sure when you drop off someone or something, that it is written down.”

He grabbed up sheaves of paper and several pencils. “Uncommons, come up and get these. You’ll be leading your groups of Commons for the rescue and recovery. It’s up to you to write down what you pass over to the quartermaster. I’ll be sitting down and comparing the lists with him after the eruption—”

He was interrupted by a ragged cheer from the wing. Apparently, holding the quartermaster to account was a popular decision.

When the cheering subsided, Arthur finished up. “Commons, you’re to separate into groups and follow the Uncommons. Uncommons, you’re to look to Griff for any questions. Griff, if you have any questions—”

“Come to you?” Griff said with a wide grin.

Arthur nodded. “My dragon and I will be flying around and doing the same as any of you. We’ll be starting with the rescue of people. Lastly,” he said, hoping to finish this up because his throat was starting to become a little raw, “if there are disputes among dragon pairs from other hives, you’re not to engage. No stealing harvests. Let them eat your dust and get out of the way. They’re to kill scourglings, and we are to save what we can. If there’s a real issue, then come to me. Now, everybody group up. Commons, I want you to find your favorite Uncommon and stay with them.”

That last order might have been a bit of a mistake, as the Commons were already grouped up. Now that he’d made it official, they felt the need to recheck where they were at, and many decided to switch to someone else. Apparently, there were factions among the Common. While they were cheerful, it was still cheerful drama. Some did not like others and did not want to be on the same team.

Arthur allowed it to some point, trusting Brixaby to keep an eye on things so it didn’t devolve into squabbling. Meanwhile, he dismounted and spoke quietly to Thackeray and Candy Floss.

“Small things of the highest value should go into your dimensional bag,” Arthur said. “Jewelry, coins, shards. That sort of thing. If it’s too large to move but extremely valuable, alert me directly, and . . .” He sighed. “Try to save personal items, if you can. A lot of people are going to lose everything today.”

Unfortunately, that was the reality when it came to an eruption, but if Arthur could make a difference, he would.

“What about me, sir?” Steve asked. He and Bolt had not moved to join with an Uncommon.

That was a good question. Arthur had hopes that eventually he’d have so many Commons with riders that they could form their own group, but right now there were only two.

“I want you to follow Griff and watch what he does,” Arthur said. “Eventually, we’ll have our own Common group with riders, and I’ll have to choose a leader. If that’s something that interests you, see how Griff leads and try to emulate that. Otherwise, do what he says, make rescues, and stay out of trouble.”

Steve straightened up and nodded, reaching out to lead his slightly bewildered-looking dragon over to Griff. Then again, that just might be the permanent expression on Bolt’s face.

Finally, Arthur turned to Amanda. “Let Thackeray know what kind of seed stock would be best,” he said, “and in the meantime . . .” He trailed off, not sure what she should do.

“The hatchling wing will be running back and forth delivering messages and doing chores,” she said. “That’s what Marion and Soledad are up to right now. I thought I could report in on everybody’s behalf.”

Arthur nodded. He liked the fact that the three of them were getting to know each other. “Thank you. Tell them they know what to do. Just keep yourself safe and keep your eyes open for anything interesting.”

“Interesting?”

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I’m always looking for ways to get shards.”

She smiled. “I can’t wait until my dragon is old enough to join the wing for real.”

Then she saluted, Blood Moon style, and ran off. Her tiny dragon was quick on her heels.

Above, horns sounded along with the bells. Arthur glanced up. He didn’t remember horns last time. Then again, it had been night, and the leadership had not been able to put on much of a show.

The horns had a deep thrum to them. He wasn’t sure if they were card enhanced or just some bass type of instrument, but they seem to be a signal for the green portal dragons to take off.

The greens flew in a tight diamond formation, so close together that they were practically wingtip to wingtip. They circled once while the horns still blew.

Arthur had to admit it made for a stunning sight. Below, dragons roared their enthusiasm, and riders yelled and whooped.

They’re getting everybody excited for the eruption to come.

That hadn’t happened last time, either. Maybe everyone was too tired from being caught in the middle of the night.

The shimmer green wing angled upward and then split off in four neat directions, coming to a stop at a signal. Then they began to cast their magic.

Unfortunately, Arthur and Brixaby were too far away to catch it with their Counterfeit Siphon.

The large portal opened, and the first of the wings, one that was very heavy in reds and oranges, lifted into the air to go through.

Arthur returned to Brixaby and took his seat, forcefully maintaining a stoic expression. Neither excited nor anxious, even though his heart was pounding.

He felt Brixaby shift back and forth under him. He was raring to go.

Finally, after the crater was emptied, the purples were allowed to ascend.

Arthur and Brixaby led their wing into the air.

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