"If there's anything better than a God-given talent, it's a God-given day job." ~ Robert Breault

I resumed my work in the gnomish cathedral. The administrative offices had been effectively emptied. Presumably, whatever documents had remained were long since decayed away, and any important ones were likely removed in an orderly departure anyways.

Having fully absorbed the ground level, I expanded my domain to include the upper levels of the church. That got me a few blueprints for colored paints, and some of the mineral components that comprised them, but the more interesting parts were in the inscriptions incised and painted in a band along where the walls met the vault of the dome. The dome itself was painted with a night sky motif, and I wasn't willing to bet that the star map wasn't an accurate one. It didn't match the current night sky, but I didn't know if that meant it mimicked a location elsewhere in the world, a different time of year, a shift in star patterns over the space of millennia, or all of the above. Or it could have just been a stylized representation. I simply didn't have the data to determine one way or the other, at least not yet.

There was enough text in the inscribed band that my epigraphy and language skills kicked in to provide translations. I wasn't sure what the language was, though I assumed some form of Ancient Gnomish (though I wasn't ready to assume gnomes all spoke the same language; it seemed unlikely, after all). Much of the language was obscure to me, just because it was rooted in religious knowledge that I simply didn't have. Much of it involved the names of saints, I thought, associated with shrines tucked into the arcade below. There was enough, though, to at least help me determine the names of the deities to whom this cathedral had been dedicated – Klilkivest, God of Engineers and Morweeth, Mistress of Flight. Neither appeared in my existing library, though I was willing to bet that Klilkivest was a forerunner or older name for Klickvestus, an engineering god reputedly worshipped by gnomes and halflings in some cities of Itand.

That might make the place a pilgrimage site for modern worshippers in a year or so when I was passing over Itand, if I made it known and opened up access to it. I filed that away as a possibility for some later date, as it wasn't much of a priority for the time being.

The real prize came when I shifted my focus to the subfloor levels, which, it rapidly became clear, had served as catacombs for the interral of the gnomish dead for at least part of the population. The catacombs were highly ordered and extensive with a systematic set of uniform niches built into the walls in a series of tidy chambers. These indicated some form of social patterning, as they radiated out from a central chamber (accessed from stairs between the two altars and below the pulpit) in four branching galleries that appeared to share distinct affiliations according to the symbolism of the inscriptions by each niche and the paintings on the ceilings.

Most of the bodies received a fairly standard treatment. The space here was quite dry and some remains did persist in a naturally mummified form. I suspected some combination of careful engineering and runic enchantments were responsible for that, at least in the initial rooms; any such enchantments were no longer active, though, and preservation was worse as I explored farther from the center into what I suspected were later burials. The area hadn't ever been hermetically sealed, or anything, but efforts had clearly been made to push the bodies towards desiccation rather than any form of wet decomposition.

I hadn't gotten much beyond the initial four rooms radiating from the central space below the altars when my attention was seized by activity in the Redcrest village. The final stragglers had appeared, but in lower numbers than had been hoped for. Only 8 of the Redcrest warriors had survived the final battle, or at least survived in shape to make this flight. It sounded like they held out hope for a couple of stragglers to make their way here eventually, but no more than that.

The reunions were quiet affairs, so as not to wake the children, but highly emotional. Survivors were greeted with restrained joy and heartfelt emotion, while the spouses of the missing were consoled. A few remained uncertain of the status of their loved ones, but most of the missing could be verified as lost. I observed the proceedings attentively but did not impose my presence on the intensely personal reunions.

Sighing mentally, I returned to my examination of the ancient dead. Inscriptions gave me enough information that I could identify four primary clans which seemed to structure both the catacombs and, I suspected, the gnomish city itself. On the side between the center chamber and the island center, the gallery belonged to a clan whose name rendered to "Hallowsmith", on the edge side was the gallery of clan "Skythrum." Perpendicular to that axis were chambers for the "Moonfallen" and the "Pathfinders." They had their own associated symbolism as well, with varied jewelry comprised of a broad variety of metals and alloys using polished stones affiliated with each group – red jasper, turquoise, moonstone, and magnetized, polished galena, respectively. The associated metals leaned towards silver, platinum, steel, and in some apparently higher status burials, mithril. I received blueprints for the rings themselves, but also some of the raw materials that I hadn't yet encountered.

Blueprint Received: Platinum

Blueprint Received: Mithril

Blueprint Received: Turquoise

Blueprint Received: Moonstone

Blueprint Received: Galena

In some cases, the individuals were interred with what I assumed to be the representative tools of their trades. These were relatively infrequent, but generally ornately tooled when they did appear. I suspected they were more representative of a rank in a guild than actual working tools. Those didn't track neatly with clan affiliation, but there were some general associations. Hammers and spanners, which I assumed pointed towards smiths and engineers, predominated in the Hallowsmith gallery. Goggles and simple flintlock pistols suggested the possibility of airship pilots and gunners to me, given the focus in the church, and were common in the Skythrum and Pathfinder galleries. The Moonfallen seemed to lean towards ornate crescent moon pectorals which I thought might be a more priestly or possibly mage-like marker. Those seemed to be the items associated with the highest ranking guilds, but other more prosaic crafting tools suggested most production behaviors were represented to some degree.

Blueprint Received: Gnomish Hammer

Blueprint Received: Gnomish Spanner

Blueprint Received: Gnomish Pilot Goggles

Blueprint Received: Gnomish Flintlock Pistol

Blueprint Received: Gnomish Silver Crescent Pectoral

As was my standard practice, at this point, I didn't actually absorb the remains or their associated grave goods, but I did attain the relevant blueprints. I wasn't entirely sure how that worked, and I half suspected I was simply replacing them on a molecular level as I went, but functionally there wasn't really a difference I could detect. In this case, the objects in question were mostly tools and jewelry, along with some rather fragile garment fragments. I would have guessed that some of the jewelry had once been enchanted, but any mana imbued into those pieces had long since seeped away. My runic enchantment skill was telling me I could recharge and rebuild some of them, at least, but I'd need time to learn and practice runic enchantments first. My instincts were also telling me that the gnomish runes were distinct from the default dungeon runes my skill had come with, but that I should be able to pick them up eventually (and wouldn't actually have to understand them in many cases to simply recharge the drained items) Most enchanted items would recharge passively from the mana of their wielder, and the most powerful items might need more active charging, at least periodically. Only truly artifact grade items would be able to hold a charge indefinitely, and they required not only special materials but highly ranked crafters and enchanters to produce. They also weren't likely to be interred in a burial in most societies, as they more typically constituted highly valued family heirlooms or even national treasures.

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I was a bit relieved that there didn't seem to be any undead present in the catacombs. Not that they could hurt me, of course, but because I didn't really want to add gnomish mummies to my repertoire. I did note a number of traps and magical defenses that I assumed were intended to protect the remains of the deceased, but they were long defunct. The magical defenses, like the other magic items, had potential for later study, but weren't anything I had time for at the moment.

As noted, the remains were less well preserved as I moved farther from the central galleries. I wasn't sure if that was a reflection of status, a decline in runic technology or engineering prowess, or simply a lack of attention to less visible parts of the catacombs. I could tell from my radiometric dating skill that the remains got younger as I moved deeper, suggesting they'd simply added new galleries deeper in as the demand required. It was well on towards morning by the time I'd fully claimed the catacombs, representing several thousand burials (and at that clearly not representing a full cross section of gnomish society). I rather suspected that lower ranking gnomes didn't get buried in the catacombs, but possibly it was more of a temporal difference, with earlier or later gnomes buried elsewhere or otherwise disposed of. There were few children, and the skeletons skewed heavily male, so I suspected there were social forces in play that determined who got buried here.

In any event, I wasn't likely to complete the next archaeology quest before needing to return focus to the Redcrest village, but I did want to at least start in on the storefronts facing the central plaza.

Those turned out to be interesting in structure, but generally lacking in new blueprints, as whatever goods had been sold had either long since decayed, or more likely, been removed when the place was abandoned. It did seem like a fairly orderly withdrawal, as for the most part, the spaces were quite orderly. Restaurants had abandoned their seating, but the chairs were tucked in to the table, the grills had their covers in place, and the storage rooms were stripped and swept out. It was possible they'd intended to return at some point, but they clearly hadn't expected to be back soon. Other shops had emptied their shelves and their safes, taking essentially everything readily portable and leaving behind shelving and other less portable furnishings. On occasion I could make a good guess as to what kinds of things had been sold, but for the most part, one abandoned storefront was much like another.

While there were easily eight to ten businesses represented in the single structure, apparently it all counted as one thing for my quest line, as it failed to trigger. I supposed it did describe it as a non-residential structure, so that might have been it. I was hopeful that the fact the upper stories looked to include at least some residential spaces wasn't going to be counted against me, at least, but I hadn't gotten that far in any event. I'd just completed a sweep of the ground floor when I became aware that the Redcrest village was waking with the rising sun.

When I turned my attention to the Redcrest village, the elders had produced a buffet style breakfast for the new arrivals, who had begun trickling out of their various assigned spaces as the scent of wild boar bacon and mountain maple syrup lured them into wakefulness. The meal was further fortified with an oat porridge and a selection of fruits and nuts from the orchard. Not much bacon or syrup was lost, but a small donation was provided to allow me to secure the blueprints.

Orentha and Glynesha had settled in their usual seats, and had been joined by Kragosh, Glynesha's spouse and warchief for the tribe. They'd apparently done most of their catching up late last night, unwilling to wait for the morning, and now were discussing the immediate steps that needed to be taken.

A lot of it boiled down to working out their logistics by sending out hunting and gathering parties to sort out provisioning on a longer term basis, but they also touched on topics ranging from concerns with crafting and trade, counseling for the bereaved, education for the children and occupational training more broadly. There were also shorter term concerns with equipment repair and maintenance and exploration of the sky island more broadly to identify any particular threats or opportunities. They also worried about determining its path above various polities and what that would mean for them, as well as what service to the dragon would entail and whether it would be worthwhile to consider permanent residency.

I mostly sat in on the discussion quietly, though chiming in to reassure them about at least short-term food supplies; I could provide sufficient support, though I understood the desire to be self-sufficient. Kragosh did eventually turn discussion to the matter of how I was being repaid for all that I had provided. He seemed concerned that I hadn't asked for more, noting that many in the tribe would likely be dubious that my generosity didn't have any hidden costs.

He drew himself up a bit more formally, raising his crest in subconscious display. "Requiring our people to practice their crafts and expend their mana in training is something we'd have been doing in any event. For the most part, even that is you being generous with us by providing the space and equipment to do so effectively." He shook his head, slowly. "The tribe will be suspicious if that's all you require." He sighed. "I understand that you have no need for money, but you will need to task us for labor and goods, as the dragon did. Frankly, you are doing more for us and getting less under the current agreement."

Glynesha snorted and slapped his arm affectionately. "This is why we don't send you to negotiate with the traveling merchants – you have the wrong instincts for haggling. Still, I suspect you are correct. If you aren't obviously profiting from hosting us, everyone will wonder how you plan to recoup your investment. I don't need people worrying if you're going to devour us in our sleep, much less suggesting we act against you proactively to prevent that. I'm already seeing some obvious concern with your motives – despite the prophecy Orentha has shared, and our recounting of the agreements made. I'm afraid the trauma of the move has made many of our people hesitant to trust anyone outside of the tribe." She smiled sadly. "It's going to be a long while before everyone trusts your intentions, if ever, I'm afraid. The stories about dungeons tend to focus on their dangers, and the few warriors among us who have ever entered a dungeon before haven't ever been to a sapient dungeon, much less one that wants to help."

I understood that it wasn't personal, and I tried to reassure them I wasn't taking it that way. **No, I get it, and if you want to make it more obvious that I'm benefitting from your presence, I'm certainly not going to object. I suppose you could start by asking your various craft people to tithe me examples of each product they produce. Maybe ask them to create something new to me at least once a month, say? To start, at least? And ask your hunting and gathering parties to offer up new plants and creatures on some regular basis – especially if they start to move beyond the sky island itself? That should make the benefit to me more readily apparent, I would think. Would that be enough to reassure them they're worth more to me alive than dead?**

Orentha passed that along, rather ruefully, but they were all in agreement that it would likely forestall most issues. In the short term, at least, that should work well, as adding new blueprints would be simple early and involve more effort once they'd become more established. "You'll likely find that a few of us will still be suspicious of you, I'm afraid. Still, that should keep it to restrained muttering and prevent any actual subversive movement. I think we'll be able to pick out the most negative people easily enough, so we'll make a concerted effort to keep an eye on them." Orentha sighed. "They're mostly going to be among the oldest people anyways, the ones who've lost the most. And they won't be in a position to do anything that will concern you. We apologize for that; you deserve a more positive response."

**No, I get it. Assuming things go well in general, most of them will come around, and the rest won't be spurred to any direct action, at least. I'll leave managing them in your hands, unless someone does become a direct threat.**

The trio nodded somberly at that, with Kragosh providing formal agreement. "We'll work hard to avoid that; any losses to you directly will set back relations regardless of the reasons. In the meantime, why don't we turn discussion to more immediate concerns..."

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