Duke Grandfather- The Whole Story

by James Maxstadt

  Around halfway through the fourth mug is when Jessup pulled out a chair and settled into it, already fully stocked with a mug of his own. He slid a back-up across to me, proving once again that I had chosen wisely in my friendship with him.

  “Why so glum?” he asked me, after taking a long sip and watching me over the rim.

  “Ah, work troubles. You know how it is.”

  “Nope, actually I don’t. Never worked a day in my life and the gods willing, I never will. Still, spit it out. You’re always good for a story or two.”

  I looked at him, sitting there in his finery, a large grin on his open and honest face. Never worked a day in his life? I knew Jessup came from money, but really? Never? I shook my head and decided to leave that one alone for another day.

  Instead, I downed my self-bought ale and picked up the one he gifted me. It tasted better somehow. Maybe it was because it was free, or perhaps because it was my fifth mug. Regardless, I took a healthy swig and then launched into the tale. It took a bit of telling, since I needed to go back over my previous encounters with Wulfonson.

  “Hold on a minute,” Jessup interrupted me after I was speaking for a few minutes. “Are you telling me this is the same giant orc that did such a number on you the first time we met?”

  I assured him that it was, then settled back to let the laughter die down before I continued.

  “You do have a way about you, don’t you?” he said when I was done. “Well, that is a pickle. And you have no ideas for how to get the old orc out of there?”

  “None. Well, one, but I’m not even sure what to do with it.”

  He signaled for two more ales. “Go ahead. Maybe we can find wisdom together.”

  At that point, I wasn’t sure that I could even spell wisdom, let alone find it. Two more mugs of ale had kept my throat lubricated while I talked and I was starting to feel the effects. Still, he had a point. Two heads and all that.

  “I was thinking that we could enlist the help of another orc. Someone that Oleg doesn’t know. They could get in there. Maybe.”

  “And do what?”

  “That’s the problem. I don’t know. Get a message to Grandmother Wulfonson, at least.”

  “Who probably won’t believe it,” Jessup said. “She’d be suspicious of it. No…I think you need to get in there, if the orcs you’re trying to help can’t. Handle this yourself.”

  “Sure. Great idea. I’ll just walk on in. Why not?”

  “Don’t discount the idea so quickly.” He leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “What if…you went in disguise?”

  “Like what? Wear a mask? I think they’d see through that.”

  “No, no. Something better. Let me talk to someone I know. Meet me here tomorrow morning?”

  My head was nicely fuzzy at that point, and another mug of ale seemed like a great way to cap off the night. But, if I was going to get up before noon tomorrow then I really should call it a night.

  When morning rolled around, I cursed my past-self for not listening to reason.

  But, I squinted my eyes against the glare of an overcast day and tried to ignore the din of people going about their business while I headed back to the Pig to meet Jessup.

  “Any help?” I muttered as I walked, remembering the sudden clarity and relief the ride-along in my head granted me the last time my body rebelled against fun.

  There was no response. Either the voice was really gone, or what I was doing now wasn’t important to it. I was on my own.

  Jessup ended up being late, but it didn’t bother me. It turned out that the Wooden Pig made better coffee than ale, and I downed two of them before he showed up. That helped clear my head, although it did nothing to quell the rumbling in my stomach.

  “All set?” Jessup asked. He was remarkably cheerful and hale for someone who had kept pace with me throughout the evening. Some guys and their luck.

  “Sure,” I mumbled and climbed to my feet.

  Jessup led me through the streets of Capital City, as comfortable in the swankier sections as he was in the seedier. He was truly a child of the city, even more so than I was, exhibiting an ease that can only come from a lifetime of knowing that something bad would never befall you. For some, that was true, they lived charmed lives that unpleasantness rarely, if ever, touched. Usually, those people annoyed the hell out of me, but Jessup was alright, and I truly didn’t wish an iota of misfortune on him.

  Finally, we stopped before a run-down building, its windows covered by heavy, dark drapes hung on the inside.

  “This is where Dr. Visage is earning a living these days,” Jessup said. “Don’t judge it too harshly by the outside. The doctor isn’t very popular with the other wizards, so he tries to keep low.”

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “He wants to help people. And he doesn’t think magic is only for the elite, but that it should be available to anyone who needs it, at a reasonable price. Some of the other wizards don’t agree with him, so they try to sabotage his efforts. Thus…he stays out of sight if he can.”

  “Uh-huh.” I was eyeing the place dubiously.

  “Seriously. I’ve dealt with him before. Go on in, explain what you need, and I’ll bet he can help you.”

  “What is it exactly that I need?”

  Jessup shrugged. “No idea. A good disguise, I would think. See what he says, he’s very smart.”

  “Thanks, Jessup.” I stuck out my hand and he shook it. “I mean it. Not too many people go out of their way anymore.”

  “Bah. We’re friends. And when this is all over, I’ll meet you at the Pig and you can tell me how it worked out.”

  With a jaunty wave, he sauntered off, hands in his pockets and whistling as he went. I watched until he either turned the corner, or ducked into the tavern that stood there. I couldn’t really tell from where I was standing.

  Then, I turned back to the building before me, and hoping that it would remain standing, walked to it, and knocked on the door.

  “Enter!” a voice cried out. Deep and commanding, it was the type of voice that you would expect would come from a powerful wizard. It set me at ease and made me nervous all at once. If Dr. Visage was the real deal, maybe he could help me figure out a plan. But also if he was…well…magic. Yuck.

  I pushed open the door, which creaked in the appropriate manner and entered the shop. It was filled with the paraphernalia that I imagined came with being a wizard. Scrolls, books, and strange things in jars lined dusty shelves. Bones belonging to humans, animals and others peeked out from beneath or between the other items. The smell was part kitchen, part old house, and part furnace.

  All told it was very impressive.

  I couldn’t say the same for the man standing at the counter watching me, however. Yes, he was garbed as a wizard should be. Or at least what most people would think a wizard should look like. A long, deep blue robe hung on his thin frame, covered in eldritch symbols picked out in gold. On his head was a tall, pointed cap that matched the robe.

  But where you might have expected an elderly man with a full gray beard and drooping mustache, Dr. Visage was actually fairly young. No more than middle-aged at most. He did sport a beard, but it was the type that some men end up with; a few straggly hairs growing from a pointed chin, not quite connected to the whiskers sprouting from his cheeks.

  Well, even wizards needed to start somewhere, I guessed. Even if the ones I saw in the Watch didn’t dress this way, I could see why he would. Play to people’s expectations and so on.

  “What can Dr. Visage do for you?” he boomed out. I winced at the loudness as his voice echoed about the room.

  “Ah, Jessup sent me. He thought that maybe you’d have an idea about a problem I’m having.”

  “Oh, Jessup. Right!” His voice became more normal, no longer crashing into the room. “Great guy. He mentioned you might be stopping by. Come in, come in!”

  While not as magically impressive, I much preferred talking to this version of the goo
d doctor.

  He came around the end of the counter, doffing his cap and tossing it aside as he did. He held out his hand and I took it, pleased by the firm grip.

  “Jessup told me something about having to get inside an orc compound? Is that true? What would possibly possess you to try that?”

  I told my tale again, but briefer this time, skipping all of my earlier interactions with Wulfonson, and without the benefit of any lubricant.

  “Hmmm, I see,” Dr. Visage said when I wrapped up. “Noble. Quite noble, really. If I understand you correctly, you wish to get in, and get out again with the old orc, safe and sound. Is that so?”

  “Pretty much. I mean, it’d be great to turn the family over to Anton and his parents, but I don’t think that’s really my place. I want to help them make sure the old orc is safe.”

  “Just so. Well. I have been pondering your dilemma since last night when Jessup gave me the gist of it. I may, may mind you, have a solution.”

  Score another one for Jessup. He was proving on several fronts to be a man who was good to know.

  “Great,” I said. “What are you thinking?”

  “Our friend Jessup was on to something last night. But I don’t feel he went far enough. A disguise is needed, but it needs to be more than that. No, I think in order for you to pull this off, we need to change you entirely.”

  “Change me? Change me, how?”

  “Why, into an orc of course.”

  He smiled and held up a vial with a shining green liquid inside of it. It was thick and half-clotted and I could see small chunks of something solid swimming through it.

  Magic.

  “Now,” the doctor was saying, “this is simple. You drink this, let’s say half an hour or so before you want to get into the compound. Do it somewhere private, since you don’t want witnesses to the transformation. Plus, it might be fairly painful, I’m not sure. I put in some woolscap extract as a pain-killer, but as I’m sure you know, that stuff is hit or miss. Plus, I didn’t want to use too much and chance throwing off the formula.”

  I swallowed. Not the potion, but against the dryness in my throat. “What else is in there?” I asked.

  “Oh, this and that. Nothing really harmful, I assure you. As I say, take it half an hour before you wish to enter the compound. That will give you time to change and then recover. Then, when you are fully ‘orc’, you’ll have a period of two hours before you begin to change back. The transformation back will be quicker, but by no means instantaneous. And will probably be more painful, as the woolscap will have been used up in the first one. Still, you’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

  This was sounding less and less appealing as he talked. I took the offered vial. “You sure this will work?”

  “Positive!”

  “Have you used it before?”

  “Me? Of course, not. Who ever heard of wizardly orc?”

  “So, I’m your test subject?”

  “Think of yourself more as a pioneer,” he said, and steered me to the door.

  “Wait.” I stopped halfway out. “What do I owe you?”

  “Nothing.” He shrugged. “Let me know how it works out.”

  I opened my mouth to ask him exactly what he meant by that, but the door closed with a groan and a boom. I stood there with the liquid filled vial in my hand. Why was I doing this again?

  “You’re going to do what?” Wulfonson growled at me later, when I told he and his parents my plan.

  “Get in, get to your grandmother and get her out.”

  “By going in magically transformed as one of us?”

  “Right. I get the lay of the land, find your grandmother and get out with her.”

  “If it was that easy, my father could have walked her out of there.”

  “Ah, see, that’s the beauty. No, he couldn’t have. He was being watched, so if he went somewhere with her, they’d be on him. They won’t be watching me. I’ll disguise her too, and before anyone thinks to look, we’ll be gone.”

  I was talking as if this was going to be a walk in the park, when the truth was that I was scared to death. If I was discovered trying to get her out, orc or not, there was going to be hell to pay. And I would be on my own in there, against Lara and every other orc in the compound.

  “I think you’re crazy,” Wulfonson said.

  “Any better ideas? Or should we leave her there at Oleg’s mercy?”

  That got him. He couldn’t be the one to go in, and neither could his parents, so someone had to do it. I was his only option.

  “She better not get hurt,” he growled.

  “She won’t, I promise. But I do need something. Something that will convince her that I came from you, that I’m not trying to trick her.”

  “Wait a moment,” Mother Wulfonson said and left the room. She returned a few minutes later with a stone disc, hung from a leather thong. “Here.”

  It was a relief sculpture of a female orc holding a baby, obviously done by one of the two older Wulfonsons.

  “I made this for her when Anton was born. She lost it, and by the time we found it, Oleg refused to allow us to see her. Give it to her, and she’ll know it’s from us.”

  “Alright,” I said, pocketing the small medallion. “Now, what about clothes?”

  It turned out that Mrs. Grounddigger had more talents than math. She was also a whiz with a needle and thread, and in short order altered some of Wulfonson's clothes to fit me. They weren't perfect, Wulfonson was simply too big for them to ever hang right on me, but they were good enough. We hoped that they would fit even better once I was disguised as an orc.

  "Tomorrow morning," I said. "When the compound is waking up. I'll slip in then and work my way to her rooms. Be watching. If I come out fast, be ready to jump on any pursuit. I don't think they'll send everyone out. It would be too obvious in broad daylight. We might have to worry later on, but we'll deal with that then."

  "You get her out of there, and you won't have to worry about anyone following you," Wulfonson said. He hefted that enormous warhammer of his for emphasis.

  Sleep came hard that night. I was nervous about taking the potion and putting myself at the mercy of some unknown magic. I was nervous about going into the compound, disguised or not. I knew next to nothing about the normal behavior of the orc at home, but I was smart, and counted on watching what others did and mimicking them. And I was nervous about getting out. Grandmother Wulfonson was well-known by all of her family. I wasn't sure how well a new hat and a different cloak was going to hide who she was.

  But I finally did manage to doze off. It seemed that it was only minutes when I woke, the sun not yet even a hint in the sky.

  I changed into the clothes that Mrs. Grounddigger had altered for me and took out the vial from Dr. Visage. It was still shining as brightly as in his shop, and lit the pre-morning gloom with an eerie glow.

  I wasn't really doing this, was I? Me? Who hated magic with a passion and trusted it less than I would a drunken goblin?

  I sighed, pulled the cork from the neck, and before I could change my mind, drank it in a gulp.

  "Blech!" It was horrible! A nasty, grainy, bitter taste flooded my mouth and it was all I could do to choke it down. I grabbed hold of the back of a chair and closed my eyes, breathing through my nose. It wanted to crawl right back up out of my throat, bringing anything else down there with it, but I fought it.

  The nausea passed eventually. I continued to stand and breath slowly, trying to concentrate on something else. Finally, my stomach started to settle, my breathing became more normal and I opened my eyes.

  "That wasn't so bad," I started to say, figuring that if I could convince myself of that, maybe the rest of the day would be fooled into going well.

  Then, the pain hit. It drove me to my knees, and I pitched forward, hands out, catching myself before I busted my nose on the floor. All my joints were on fire and felt like they were breaking at the same time. Then it was muscle aches, and I did sprawl all the way out as I shoo
k and contorted with cramps. My head didn't feel like it was going to split, it felt like someone had already taken a battle-axe to it. Even my teeth hurt.

  I groaned and writhed on the floor for what felt like hours, but finally, slowly, the pain started to fade. My muscles unclenched and I climbed slowly to my feet, panting from the effort. I stood, swaying and looked about me.

  Funny. I could see into the corners of the room like it was broad daylight. Details that normally would be hidden in the dark were clear to me. And, I could hear the noise of a mouse stealthily moving somewhere in the walls. Apparently, orcs could see and hear much better than humans. Valuable information to know as I continued down my career path!

  I noted the thicker, longer arms, and thicker, shorter legs that I now had. I took a step, then another, trying to get used to the change in gait from my normal.

  "Thish is new," I said to myself, then put my hand up to feel two large teeth, jutting up from my lower lip. How did they ever talk normally with these things in the way? That was something I hadn't thought of. I was going to have to keep my mouth shut as much as I could in there.

  I spent the next several minutes moving about, getting the feel of my new body. As far as I could tell, I was all orc. Dr. Visage had done an amazing job.

  But, my time was limited. There was only a little over two hours to get to the compound, get in, find Grandmother Wulfonson, convince her, disguise her, and get her out of there. Time to get moving.

  The trip to the Wulfonson compound didn’t take long. The streets were mostly deserted this time of morning and no one took notice of a lone orc minding his own business. Once there, I stopped and surveyed the place.

  It was quiet, as I expected and there were no guards around. Why would there be? Oleg was afraid of his people getting out, he wasn’t worried about anyone coming in. As far as he was aware, Anton was still out in the wilds, if not dead already, and no-one else would be crazy enough to try to break into the place.

  No-one but me!

  I strode forward, acting like I belonged there. That was my first plan. If anyone happened to notice, hopefully they’d see an orc confidently striding toward his home. So far, so good. No outcries or challenges rang out, and a moment later, I passed into the compound.