by Bill Ricardi
I paused. My other goals had an uncertain price tag. But best to write them down anyway.
Six: Get an education. Not just magical, but historical, geographical, and general. My world up until this point was all swamps and hills. I need to broaden my mind to stuff and things other than magic and Common vocabulary. Reading and writing in Common, rather than just being familiar with the spoken version, would be something that I needed to polish over the next few weeks.
Seven: Explore. I have questions about the world that simple instruction and reading will not answer. I want to feel the stinging cold in the high mountains. I want to see the ruins of the ancient desert city of Poth. I want to experience the majesty of the great elven cities, built entirely with magic and divine power. I want to visit the northern orc tribes, known as the great Collective.
Eight: Grow emotionally. I’ve only had a single true friend my entire life. As I learn and explore, I want to experience the kind of social interaction that a world both civilized and wild can provide.
Finished, I left the page on the desk so that the ink would properly set and dry. I would slide it into the front of my spellbook in the morning, so that I could have a constant reminder of why I was doing what I was doing. I vowed to myself that when I learned more of the written language, I would translate that list from Orcish into Common on the reverse side of the page.
After I cast my nightly Augmentation, I laid down on the storeroom cot. I was asleep within minutes.
That night, my dream was one that I had not experienced in quite some time. I was surrounded by snow capped mountains. The air on my face was quite cold, but I wasn’t shivering. I had the distinct sensation of being surrounded by soft white fur. I also had a sense of purpose. I was there to protect my friends and loved ones. No matter how physically vivid the dream was, that was the real shock to my senses: I had friends and loved ones. I needed them, and they needed me. But it was something more as well. I needed the world, and the world needed me. My tears of joy froze even as they were falling from my cheeks.
Chapter 6
I woke suddenly, to the sound of clinking jars. Will’s head poked out from behind one of the dusty shelves. “Sorry Sorch. I was going to let you sleep in a bit longer, but I needed some thyme for the eggs and we’re out of it upstairs. Rick is heating some water for a bath, it should be ready by the time we’re done eating. See you up there shortly!” The short human headed back up the stairs with a generous bundle of herbs.
“What’s a bath?” I asked myself, puzzled.
Later that morning, I discovered that I loved baths.
Will’s cooking was quite clever. The nearby butcher ground up the small portions of leftover rabbit meat and sold it inexpensively. Will would fry off the minced meat, and use the grease to cook scrambled chicken eggs. As they cooked he would add the meat back in, as well as herbs and any leftover cheese they had laying around. He served the dish with a few buttered bread crusts that had a nice crunch when you bit into them. I can honestly say it was one of the most delicious meals I’ve ever tasted. Civilization can produce wonderful things sometimes.
While Will prepared the shop for opening, Rick and I headed across town. We were both dressed in full travelling gear: Hooded cloaks, gloves, and boots. Rick’s outfit was forest green, whereas I favored a dark gray. The destination was a hole-in-the-wall inn on the south side of town called ‘The Deviated Course’. It rode right on the edge of where the docks met the slums.
The Deviated Course was an adventurer’s inn. The bouncers were big and silent, the bartender was big and loud, and the owner was nowhere to be seen unless there was trouble. Two long tables were in the center of the main room, while shadowy booths lined the walls. At this time of the morning, with most of the rowdy crowd sleeping off the aftereffects of their ale in the common room upstairs, only a couple of booths had occupants.
Rick led me over to the job posting board. The writing was in Common, which I had yet to master. My human friend scanned over the postings as the bartender eyed the both of us.
Rick explained, “You’re looking for jobs that aren’t attractive to a group because the pay is too low to split, but risky enough for a single adventurer so that not anyone off the street could do it. The price should reflect that. Ah, here we are.” He read the details, and frowned.
The bartender called over, “Ya need an abacus there, professor?”
Rick continued to read, but answered without looking up, “Shut up Joel.”
Joel turned his gaze and his smirk to me. He explained, “I known the professor ’ere since his very first caravan guard job. He pissed ‘imself, breaches ta boots. Got the job done in th’ end though, so we let ‘im live.” The bartender flashed a wicked, half-toothless smile.
Rick retorted, “If you didn’t water down the beer so much, you wouldn’t have so many pissing incidents I imagine.”
Joel’s smile faded to a scowl. “Bah!” He went back to cleaning the bar with a dirty rag.
I just shook my head.
My human friend turned back to me and summarized what he had read. “There are two options, and I don’t like either of them, but I won’t tell you why until you’ve heard the offers.”
He tapped one of the postings and explained, “This one is for a night guard. A warehouse on the docks is expecting trouble this weekend. They don’t say which one or what kind of trouble. It does have the seal of the mayor on it, so at least the cargo is legal, or legal enough. Anyway, they want an extra body to dissuade a nighttime raid. Two nights, 50 pieces of gold.”
I was already shaking my head. “Pass. For all we know, it could be overwhelming odds. There’s no clearly defined threat, just mitigation against the unknown. You could get ambushed by all sorts of stuff and things.”
Rick agreed, “Exactly what I was thinking.” He shifted his finger to the other posting. “This one is about cattle rustling. According to this, an ‘unknown creature’ is stealing sheep, particularly young adults. One of the farmers putting up the bounty said that it walked on two legs, but was able to carry off a sheep under one arm. It strikes on well lit nights when the moon is close to full. They never found any parts or a blood trail, so it is assumed that the thing’s lair is some distance away. They want it killed, and proof of death. 40 gold, and anything you find in its possession is yours.”
I nodded. “Yes, that’s the one, I’ll take that.”
Rick looked a little bit taken aback by how certain I was. “Sorch, they don’t know what this thing is. It could be a genuine lycanthrope… a werebear or some such creature. All they know is that it’s massively strong with a taste for meat.”
I shrugged, “But there is no deadline, no penalty for failure, yes?”
The human nodded. “Yes, true. And it’s a legitimate offer, bearing the Mayor’s seal. But it’s also non-exclusive, meaning whoever accomplishes the task first gets the reward.”
I laughed, “That’s fine. It means I can scout it out, assess the situation, the opponent, and the danger. And if I feel it’s too much for me then I can pull out.”
Rick considered. “Alright. You’ve thought this through I see.” He called over to Joel, “My friend will make his mark on number forty-one.”
The big man grunted and gestured me over. “Come on then. Make yer mark on th’ line, thumb print next to that.”
I was already stepping over to sign my name, but I hesitated when he mentioned a thumb print. I glanced at Rick, who was already looking back at me.
Surprisingly, it was the bartender who broke the sudden silence, with uncharacteristically quiet words meant only for our ears. “Ye can take off th’ glove fer this, sir orc. Gotta good buddy of yer type, boat captain named Blue Briar. Brings me shipments of rum, what he dun drink first.”
I nodded, and quickly slipped off the glove covering my right hand. I took up quill and ink, and signed my name in Orcish. I then allowed a couple of drops of ink from the tip of the quill to spatter to the parchment. I presse
d my thumb into the black liquid to leave my print.
Joel handed me the bar rag and I wiped my thumb off. I wasn’t sure that my digit was any cleaner afterwards, given the state of the cloth. Quickly I slipped my glove back on in order to hide my green flesh once again.
The bartender, back to his normally loud timbre, explained why he needed the thumbprint. “Thanks fer dat. Any mission with th’ mayor’s seal needs proper trackin’. Disputes go all th’ way up ta the Magistrate ya know. Anyways, happy huntin’.”
We hurried out of the tavern, and started to make our way back to the Merchant’s Quarter. I mentioned, “I used one on the journey over the hills, but I have three coins left that may give me enough supplies for the trip. Assuming electrum is worth a bit more than half a gold, as the metal content dictates.”
Rick frowned as we walked. “We’re passing by the provisioner in a few minutes, show me the coins when we get there. This kingdom hasn’t minted electrum coins since before the last Great War. The northern half of the continent hasn’t used electrum for twice as long as that.”
That news surprised me. I had just assumed that they were either coins of the southern kingdoms or the northern desert folk as Shaman had guessed. If they were contraband of some sort, they would need to be melted down first, which would take precious time and resources.
Upon reaching the provisioner’s shop, I handed the remaining electrum coins to my human friend.
“Aha!” Rick exclaimed, “This coinage is somewhat uncommon. These were minted in Castle Gray, which means they’re at least a couple hundred years old. They usually trade for around two and a half gold each. Will that cover your list?”
I was relieved. I fished out the scrap of parchment that I had written out just before getting dressed this morning. “I believe so. I’ll take any change in silver. Thank you, my friend.”
With that I waited outside. It didn’t take very long, I couldn’t afford anything fancy after all. My human companion even helped me to carry the parcels back to the shop using his wonderful Flat Mule spell.
I spent the rest of the day preparing to trade the spell knowledge that we had discussed last night. Should anything happen to me, I wanted to make sure that my new spell would live on. Whenever Rick had a chance throughout the day, he popped down to the stock room and helped me with the translation of my notes. Rick not only spoke my native tongue, he knew the written form fairly well. That made the process much easier.
The next morning, we tackled the exercise of translating a simple spell into Orcish. Painstaking would be one word for it. Painful might be more accurate. Will thought that Detect Magic would be a good candidate. Although I didn’t understand every word on sight, the Common alphabet was becoming quite intuitive to me. Still, I leaned heavily on Rick’s bilingual talents, so as not to monopolize my friends’ time for more than half a day. They had a shop to run, after all.
When I was alone, I finished transcribing the Detect Magic spell into my book. After my midday nap, I even committed the minor spell to memory so that I could try it out. Of course, a magical store room was probably not the wisest place to do so. Everything started glowing! I shielded my eyes and hissed from the sudden brightness. Will ran down to check on me… and then started laughing uncontrollably.
“Oh good gods Sorch, I’m sorry, I should have warned you. But yes, you’ve got the spell right. Why don’t you take a break while this runs its course. You slept through lunch, but we saved a baked potato with chicken gravy for you, and the stove should still be warm enough to reheat it.”
I slid my gloves on and walked up the stairs. As I passed through the shop I kept my hood up, bowing my head like a monk. My amulet had a faint glow, as did I from the persistent mystical enhancements, but I was covered up head to toe. The customers didn’t take notice. The potato was simple, but the gravy was very nice: Salty, lemony, and of course chickeny. There were no leftovers.
The next couple of days were much the same, as the full moon approached. My human friends used labels, receipts, and transcripts to help teach me the written version of Common. Once I learned their system, I was even able to help restock the shop.
One older elven woman asked for a consultation as to why her Levitation spell wasn’t working correctly. As Rick and Will didn’t know that particular spell, they asked me if I would be comfortable helping her out, as she was a friend of theirs. I accepted the challenge, and we proceeded to the back garden for some herbal tea and tutoring.
Although the golden eyed elf was a friend of my companions, and she seemed nice enough, I decided to keep my identity a secret for now. So I kept my hood up and my voice low. She seemed to be quite an advanced student, if the elf’s smooth and practiced technique was any indication. It was just this spell in particular giving her problems. We walked through each gesture and intonation slowly. I saw the issue: There were just a couple of minor errors in hand positioning mid way through the casting. I was able to coach her past her mistakes within an hour and a half. She seemed quite pleased afterwards, hovering two feet off the ground. As the old elf departed, I was assured that Rick and Will would be told how competent and friendly I was. I chuckled and wished the woman a good day.
That wasn’t the end of my teaching for the week. Both of the humans learned Augmented Intelligence flawlessly, of course. As promised, my own learning took place soon after. Invisible Shield took me the longest to master, but I eventually managed it. By comparison, I picked up Silence from Will fairly easily, and that was supposedly the more difficult spell of the two.
On the final night before my trip, as we were washing and drying the dishes, I confided in my new friends.
“I’m glad we were able to finish trading spells before I left. Should anything happen to me, at least a piece of my magic will live on.”
The humans glanced at each other. Rick spoke up first, “It was an honor, Sorch. To create such a work of art in the middle of a swamp under those conditions… simply incredible. And you accomplished that with, I must note, almost no resources to your name, no research staff, and a tiny library.”
Will chimed in, “The progression from the basic version to yours is so intuitive. And both sets of notes, simple and arcane, were meticulous. You made it easy for us, truth be told. Students in the future are really going to benefit from your work.”
I noted that they didn’t downplay the danger of my upcoming mission. They were adventurers themselves, and adventure is dangerous business.
I informed the human duo, “I’m going to try to be back in four days. Maybe allow an extra day for weather. I’ll be patrolling out there the night prior, the night of the full moon, and the night after. If I’m not back in five days, I didn’t make it. In that case could you get the bartender’s friend, the orc captain, to send word to Shaman of the Jeywafa clan? He would want to know.”
Will nodded. “We shall do so. On the brighter side, should you be successful we’ll have scouted out your potential living space near the docks. We can present you with the most privacy-oriented options on your return.”
The rest of the night was spent engaging in idle chatter, making light of things, and drinking cheap hard cider. That’s how adventurers put Death in his place. He would come when he came, but to spend your entire life fearing him is a waste of time. Better to spend whatever time you have on Panos striving to make something of yourself. And whenever possible, do so within the company of your friends.
Chapter 7
After saying goodbye to my friends the next morning, I walked out of the city’s east gate. I was heading into the farmlands. My destination was near the foothills that lay a couple of days northeast of Limt. The number of inns and shops that appeared on the side of the road dropped off rapidly after a few hours. Rather than stay on the main road, I switched over to the old cart path that ran parallel. That route kept me further away from any prying eyes. Soon I was walking past fields and copses of trees without another living soul in the vicinity. I traveled day and
night, and day once again.
The only oddity that I spotted was a single iron lamp-post on the roadside. I spied the thing late on the first night of travel. There were no apparent structures or people in the surrounding area, and yet a fresh torch burned merrily in the post’s glass-shielded sconce. I was a little disturbed, truth be told. Rather than rest nearby, I extended my travel for a half hour until the thing was well out of sight.
It seemed like an eternity before I saw any signs of civilization again. Only at noon on the second day did I pass a simple fruit stand. Soon after I came upon a small community surrounding the local wheat mill. Most of the farmers that I passed had a grim look on their weathered faces. As I crouched by the stream in order to refill my waterskins, I overheard two of the humans talking about the changes that were befalling their lands.
The pudgy farmer with the low pitched voice had been saying, “This water was swelling past the banks ten years ago. Now the current barely turns the mill’s waterwheel. What in the hells happened?”
The farmer with filthy overalls replied, “Same thing happenin’ all over. Crops gettin’ more brown, chickens layin’ less eggs. It’s the end times, maybe, says my preacher.”
The pudgy one snorted, and cast a quick sidelong gaze at my cloaked figure to see if I shared his derision. “Might be the end for us, but I don’t think it’s that. I think it’s targeted. I think some of those new god folk wanna drive us out, and they prayed for this.”
Overalls shrugged slowly, “It may be that th’ end of days is about old gods fightin’ new gods. And in th’ fightin’ they forget ‘bout us. That’s why the brown, an’ the water issues, an’ more sickness. They got their eyes elsewhere.”