Another Stupid Trilogy

by Bill Ricardi

  Every once in a while the Arcane University liked to ‘shake things up’. At the start of a week, the students themselves would choose four subjects from a rather long list of talks that they could attend. By the end of the week, all of the logistics had been sorted. Everyone would get their rota on Friday morning for two lectures before lunch and two afternoon lectures. Gods help you if you didn’t fill out your choices on Monday; you would be assigned the four least popular talks on the list. That particular gambit had become a common dare that students would issue to their friends.

  Leeson had taken the dare this week.

  The human lad and I were getting dressed for the Friday lecture circuit. Leeson was looking somewhat horrified by his rota. He said, “Apparently I’m going to a talk called ‘Calisthenics, a Mage’s Best Friend’. It says I should wear exercise clothing. Help me, Sorch.”

  I snorted and said, “No, no. This is your own foolishness. I picked my lectures like a sane person.”

  Truth be told, I wasn’t all that excited by my first offering either. Nevertheless, I left Leeson to his fate and headed over to my assigned auditorium.

  The title of this lecture was ‘The New Gods - A Magical Fiat?’ I mainly attended for two reasons: Firstly, I wanted to learn what the word ‘fiat’ meant. Secondly, I had chosen the three talks that I was actually interested in, and the names of all of the other available lectures bored me to tears.

  The man giving this talk was nice enough. His name was Lew Rush, and he insisted that everyone call him ‘Lew’ rather than Mister Rush. Lew was a hedge mage from Ice House, and a noted theologian. He was a slightly pudgy, normal looking middle aged human, save for his shockingly red hair. The way he spoke was very compelling. He had a charming and invigorating attitude. And yet, the subject matter didn’t really capture me.

  Lew was saying, “The fact that many of the new gods had at least a tangential relationship with magic was interesting. The fact that one of the new gods almost completely mirrored the responsibilities given to Omi-Suteth was incredible. It was a direct challenge to a deity's position. And yet, for the most part, there was no open conflict on Panos in regards to this. It was a fairly peaceful power sharing arrangement between the more strict old god, and the kinder and gentler new god, Vinara.”

  I was tempted to say that I had spoken with Omi-Suteth, but I needed instructions on how to get some one-on-one time with Vinara. However, Lew seemed like a nice guy and I didn’t want to mess around with him. Instead I started to draw a little doodle on a scrap of parchment, under the pretext of taking notes.

  As Lew continued to make his points and observations, my mind wandered. Many of my friends had a strong connection with a god or goddess. In fact, only Ames and I were lacking divine inspiration. I wondered if that’s why the two of us ended up bonding so quickly and deeply with one another. Clearly neither of us denied the existence of the gods. But not being attached to a particular one seemed to free up so much time in our lives. At the cost of community, I supposed.

  “My, that’s an interesting holy symbol!”

  I froze, quill hovering over the scrap of paper. Lew had wandered up the aisle as he spoke. He was right next to me. Looking at my silly drawing.

  I immediately apologised, “I’m sorry Lew, it’s no reflection on your lecture. I’m just not focused right now.”

  The pudgy redhead shook his head a bit. “Don’t say you're sorry. Let me guess, I was number four out of four, right?” A tension breaking chuckle rolled through the crowd. Apparently I wasn’t the only one.

  Lew’s humor allowed me to relax. I smiled a little bit. “Yeah. Sorry.”

  He waggled a finger at me. “No ‘sorries’, not today. What’s your name?”

  “Sorch.”

  Lew smiled. “Sorch, can I borrow your drawing?”

  I tilted my head a little bit, curious as to what the human had in mind. Wordlessly, I offered him the scrap of parchment.

  The lecturer started heading towards the front. “I’ll be careful with this, it’s still wet. Can I take it for granted that the gods aren’t part of your daily routine, Sorch?”

  “No sir.”

  The man corrected me, “Call me Lew, please, we’re all friends here. You’re bringing me neatly around to my point, Sorch. Have a look at this.”

  Lew started to copy my doodle onto the chalkboard. “This is basically what our friend Sorch drew.” Then he started to add a couple of lines, a curve or two, and then drew a circle around it.

  A couple of people were murmuring in the crowd. The rest of us didn’t get the reference. Lew kindly provided the context of what this new drawing meant. “This is the holy symbol of Xim. Kind of a potiony look, with an altar in the middle and some wavy lines. Xim is one of the new gods, all about arcane invention, golems, and the like.”

  Lew silently held up my drawing. I stared at it, mouth agape. It was remarkably similar.

  The man continued, “The holy symbols of the new gods are all rather basic. Obvious. Something that you could doodle without even realizing that you were doing it. Like they picked them out of a hat and made a couple of minor changes.”

  Lew went back to the board. I was leaning forward in my seat now. Many of us were. He had us.

  “A fiat is an arbitrary rule. A random cracking of the whip. The question that nobody can answer, that the gods apparently refuse to answer, is why? Why would beings of ancient, godlike power allow these new gods to move in on their turf? The only answer ever given was that it was part of their game, part of their grand wager. But that’s not a real answer.”

  A second holy symbol was drawn. This one I knew. It was the one Tara wore.

  The human said, “Melflavin. Old god of innovation, of invention. This is his turf. Why would he give up power to this upstart? Because Xim has a slightly different focus? He’s giving up followers. He’s giving up power. To one of these new gods that has no history, no reason to be here.”

  A line was drawn between the two holy symbols. “And they get along. The temples are related, they’re sister organizations. Much like Omi-Suteth and Vinara. Why?”

  Then the red haired human wrote something on the board in large letters:

  ‘WHY ARE THE NEW GODS HERE AT ALL?’

  Lew used a little too much pressure and broke the length of chalk on the final question mark. He allowed it to drop from his fingers. “Why? It seems like a fiat. It seems like a random change in the rules, doesn’t it? There is no logical reason for the old gods to share power with young upstarts. But if that’s the case, someone dictated the rise of the new gods. Someone so powerful, so far beyond normal, that they could shelter these upstarts from the wrath of the old gods and force them to work together harmoniously. Is this the entity behind the great game that the gods seem to be playing? The core reason that they had to make an accord and a wager in the first place? Some kind of overseer or meta-god dictated it?”

  The questions hung in the lecture hall, unanswered.

  Lew was nodding. “Exactly. We don’t know. And we may never know. All we can do is try to make an analysis of how this seemingly arbitrary shift in the balance of power impacts our lives. So let’s do that now, with a focus on the new gods that touch upon the realm of magic.”

  The redheaded man walked my drawing back to me. “Thank you Sorch.”

  For the rest of the lecture, Lew had my full attention. I learned that the clergy of the new gods would often refer issues of healing and worship to temples of the old gods if they felt their focus didn’t specifically cover the issue at hand. It was as if they were operating under orders: Do not overreach. The priests and bishops admitted that they had no idea why this was the case. It was a directive from ‘on high’ and was not something that the gods deigned to tell their constituents. Only Omi-Suteth and Vinara had a massively overlapping ethos, and didn’t seem to mind competing for each other’s followers. But even that seemed to be a friendly arrangement, never pushing into the realm of conflict. It was a re
al mystery.

  As it turned out, the other three lectures that I had chosen were fairly straightforward magical demonstrations. As interesting as advanced magical theory could be, I found my mind wandering back to the big questions that Lew had been proposing. I had spoken to him briefly afterwards, and he extended an invitation to come visit the next time I was in Ice House. I said that I would do that.

  Leeson was already in 214 by the time I got back from my last talk of the day. He looked absolutely shattered. I said, “I guess that you’re filled with regret right now. It would be unseemly of me to rub it in, I suppose.”

  My young friend shook his head slowly. “Go ahead. I deserve it.”

  I had to laugh at the strain and weakness in his voice. It was only funny because he had done it to himself, and there was no permanent harm, of course. “What in the hells was your last lecture?”

  Leeson said, hoarsely, “Loud Magic: The Role of Screaming in Incantations.”

  This had me howling with mirth. Poor Leeson looked miserable. Once I had calmed myself, I went over and gave him a big hug. He needed it. “Come on, let’s go get dinner. I’ll tell you about a really interesting lecture that I had this morning…”

  Our elective lecture day ended up being a huge motivating force for me. I honestly looked forward to the next one. Perhaps that’s why the final weeks of the quarter were so productive.

  I had mastered the Earth version of the summoning spell. I knew the drawing of the circle, the inscribing of the runes, and the summoning ritual by heart. It took around half an hour to conjure the human-sized creature from the Plane of Earth. Luckily, the only material components required were stone and sand. The drain at the end of the ritual hit me hard. It was the most complex spell I had ever completed, and the amount of intelligence recovery that I needed to perform afterwards was testament to that. Professor Sevritz said that I had a natural talent in this area, but he said that to a lot of students. Once he certified my mastery of the Minor Earth Elemental incantation, I was cleared to move on to the Water version of the spell.

  Mastery of Minor Earth Elemental would allow me to conjure a potent little fighter. Although not as hard hitting or as well armored as the version that the Bishop of Koroth had brought against us, my little elemental was much less ponderous. Spending a half hour summoning it meant that the fight had to be planned ahead of time, but there were situations where that would be viable. If I had this spell when we were ambushing Salt and the Necromancer, for example, it might have been a far easier win for us. I could have either given the Minor Earth Elemental periodic commands, or I could have taken direct control over it, channelling my concentration so as to be like a puppet master. All in all, a very useful ritual to know.

  On the first day of Early Summer 2718, Summer Break started. It was a chance to spend a couple of weeks seeing one’s family and touring the warmer parts of Panos. In my case, it was time for an adventure with the best adopted family that an orc could hope to have.

  Before leaving for the break period, Leeson and Jess stopped by room 214 one last time. They each gave me a warm embrace. The two were going back to the Renault family estate so that Jess could meet the parents. Apparently, Professor Gideon would be joining them. I found myself silently wishing that I could be a fly on the wall when the Professor met ‘mom and dad’ Renault. I bid my young human friend and the buxom were-wolf lass the best of luck, and then they were gone.

  I had an appointment on the Circle of Transport for 10 in the morning. This gave me enough time to wash up, memorize a suite of more violent spells than I had recently needed, and get dressed for some warm and humid weather. A short, thin black robe and light summer pants seemed to be appropriate.

  As a chartered member of the Adventurer’s Guild, I was able to skip the long line of students waiting for a teleportation home. There was some good natured booing as my transport was given priority and I was asked to step into the circle. Leading the pack of jeerers were members of the regular Apprentice Library crew. I sent a rude gesture their way, and their laughter had just reached my ears when suddenly…

  I was elsewhere.

  Eastern Hook was a large city, and yet in the minds of the people of Panos it still represented everything wild and dangerous. It was the capital of The Hooked Shores, an independant island continent consisting of jungles to the north and dry brushland to the south. The continent was a two day boat ride west-southwest of Royal Moffit. It was the hottest region on Panos barring the Glasson Dessert to the northeast.

  The Hooked Shores earned its rather uninviting name by offering dozens of natural ways to kill you. Hooked spiders as large as a cow, gila monsters, river serpents, and wyverns were waiting in the jungle. Giant trapdoor spiders, panthalopes, harpies, and thunder snakes were ready to greet you in the brushlands. Needless to say, one didn’t venture too far from the city without a local guide and a rather large and well armed group.

  The Temple of Vinara in Eastern Hook was the least ostentatious of any of the Circle of Transport destinations that I had seen. The temple itself was simple, elegant. The entire structure was built from giant red cedar, a wood plentiful in the nearby jungles. Simple green and blue stained glass windows adorned the structure. The back garden, where the teleportation gazebo was located, was a small green lawn bordered by a line of posies and the occasional moth orchid.

  I walked out of the rear exit from the temple grounds and into Eastern Hook’s crowded streets. Summer break was big business here. Every inland bar and sailor’s tavern would be packed. That’s why the party had agreed to meet at the city’s branch of the Mage’s Guild, where access would be more restricted. Guild membership was automatic if one was a magic user in good standing with the Arcane University or Adventurer’s Guild. If not, there was a complex initiation and testing cycle that could last for several months.

  I traveled down West Street until I saw the guild’s bell tower, and then took a left turn to approach it. The side street leading deeper into the city was much less crowded, and dare I say, more civilized. Trade shops lined the avenue, as well as quaint little tea houses and members-only gaming establishments.

  Upon approaching the entrance to the Mage’s Guild, I expected to see one of our party in the alcove. Each magus was allowed one guest, and that meant someone would be stranded until I arrived. When I turned right and stepped through the archway, I was greeted by a big, grinning minotaur. Toby laughed and picked me up in a giant bearhug. I weathered the bovine assault in good humor, hugging his thick neck in return until he mercifully let me down.

  “And how is our student, may I ask?”

  I smoothed down my light adventuring robes after such a friendly assault. “This student is very well indeed. I’ve managed to make friends and remain in passable shape in all of my classes. Conjured my first earth elemental a short while ago. There was a long adjustment period, but I think I finally have the hang of academic life.”

  We chatted a little as the doorman passed an ivory rod over me. The aura of my University anklet was picked up by his sweep, and he took a moment to check the rolls. Once my membership was confirmed, I was announced to the room: “Mister Stonebender, and guest.”

  We walked into the guildhall, past the small bar and the concierge desk that also served as the coat room check-in. Our friends were already sitting at one of the tables in the dining area, eating their late breakfast. The waiter came by, but I drew a blank as to what I wanted. Toby ordered something that I never heard of, and I just asked for buttered toast and fruit. Prices in the guildhall were not known to be reasonable.

  The minotaur was brought something that smelled amazing, but looked like a white, creamy mess. “What is that?” I asked.

  He looked at me as in if I must have hit my head. “It’s porridge Sorch. You’ve never had porridge?” The minotaur sprinkled sugar over the top of his breakfast.

  “It looks like boiled grains in milk. How could that possibly be good?”

  Wordlessly, the mi
notaur offered me a spoon of his breakfast. I made a face, but reluctantly tried some.

  That’s when I discovered that I loved porridge.

  After stealing a fair portion of Toby’s meal, I offered him my grapes as compensation. He dropped the grapes into the porridge and kept eating. I never really appreciated my friend’s genius until that very moment.

  Tara was the expedition leader this time, as the quest we had taken on was near and dear to her heart. I nibbled on my toasted and buttered bread as the cleric spoke.

  “Thanks for coming, everybody. All six full partners are present, so I’ll begin. I guess I should start with a little history. The order of Melflavin isn’t as big as some of the other faiths, despite him being worshiped across multiple races all over Panos. So when something happens to members of our clergy, it is particularly painful. And if we suffer a major setback, we simply don’t have the resources to investigate or retaliate with any expectation of justice.”

  I looked around the table at a bunch of frowning faces. I wasn’t the only one prepared for a sad story.

  Tara continued, “On the outskirts of Eastern Hook is an ancient temple made of stone. It is at least two hundred years old, according to records found in the attic. The state sold it to us as an abandoned property. It was cleaned up and reclaimed by our people some 28 years ago.”

  The minotaur couldn’t keep the tears from slowly dripping down her fuzzy brown cheeks. A hint of anger was in Tara’s voice as she continued. “However, we lost all contact with the Eastern Hook branch of the order around 10 years ago, with no explanation. The investigators that we hired never came back. Since most of our practitioners prefer crafting and tinkering to adventuring, we didn’t have a lot of options at the time. Clearly it was a dangerous situation.”

  Toby squeezed Tara’s shoulder, and his deep baritone voice took over for a few moments so that she could compose herself. “The church and crypts had been left alone by townsfolk, as dread and disaster befell anyone who strayed too close, particularly at night. After a recent attack, the government of Eastern Hook reached out to the Arcane University for help with scrying the site. There was at least one magical entity that was able to combat the scrying after they discovered it. But prior to those wards going up, there were impressions of dark forces. Humanoid figures stalking the shadows, patrolling just outside. Unholy rituals. Then we lost all contact.”