by Bill Ricardi
Ames and I shared a look. The feline said, “So you’re starting to see issues here as well. Sorch mentioned that the water was rising when we rode in to deal with the Necromancer.”
Hemitath said, “And it hasn’t stopped rising. In ten years some of these houses will be on posts. In twenty, the Circle of Transport may stop working.”
The last bit of news alarmed me. “Why would that happen?”
“It needs to be connected to the element of earth. The copper plates interact with Panos in a very specific manner. They can’t be floating or submerged.”
That grim news cloaked the room in silence for a while.
Hemitath decided that we needed some encouragement. She said, “I’m glad that you’re helping out on the environmental missions. I’m going to have my contacts within the elven clergy contact you directly with any news or developments.”
I said, “That’s kind of you, Skua. Thank you.”
“I’m simply emulating your own kindness. These issues are unlikely to directly impact Ice House or the University in the short term, and yet you’re in the thick of things. It’s a great example for little Benno.”
Ames said, “He’s not so little these days.”
The elf laughed. She admitted, “No, no he isn’t. But he’ll always be little in my mind, even if he outgrows his daddy.”
I sighed. “He’s already outgrown me in one way. He’s not just the brightest new student at the Arcane University, he’s smarter than I am. I’m finding it hard to keep up.”
Hemitath offered, “A little advice?”
I nodded.
“He may be smarter. But you’re more experienced. He still looks up to you, and you’re still his father. Everything he has accomplished is on the tail end of your efforts, Sorch. And of your efforts, Ames. He owes you two everything… don’t let him forget it.”
We both laughed at the wise elf’s advice.
Ames elbowed my ribs, “She’s right. We helped save entire cities, arguably an entire continent.”
I noted, “We couldn’t have done the last bit without him though.”
The feline said, “Sure but don’t tell him that!”
Hemitath smiled. She said, “That’s the spirit. I have a meeting of my own to attend shortly, and I need to be properly dressed. Message me if there are any breakthroughs?”
Ames and I promised to do so as we stood.
As the elf showed us out, I mentioned, “Between Tatertown and here, we’ve gotten used to the climates far away from the equator. Going back to the Arcane University and Ice House is going to be hellish.”
Hemitath’s delicate elven features folded into a tiny frown. “Certainly, but you aren’t going back just yet.”
We paused at the threshold. I asked, “Umm, why not?”
I received a little slap on the shoulder from Hemitath. She asked, “What have you been promising for the last, oh I don’t know, fifteen visits?”
Ames caught on to what the elf was talking about. The were-cat slapped my other shoulder. “Yeah Sorch, what have you been promising?”
I groaned and said, “Oh that. But is today really a good day?” I frantically searched for an excuse within my mind, but nothing was coming.
The former Headmaster said, “Today is the perfect day, dear one. The children are in the classroom, the teachers are available to take notes I’m sure.”
Ames said, mock-proudly, “My mate, the professor.”
I said, “Oh gods and demons. Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
Hemitath’s little frown transformed into a brilliant smile. “That’s the spirit, dear. I’ll have one of the guards escort you over to the schoolhouse. So you don’t lose your way.”
And with the ‘I got lost’ excuse eliminated, that was that. I was going back to school.
Chapter 6
We were escorted to a large wooden structure on the West end of the village. Soon after Shaman and Hemitath endorsed the use of wooden buildings, a number of public projects were commissioned. One of the first to be built was a proper schoolhouse. It was intended to replace the traditional activity of wives and mothers gathering together between hunts to teach the children survival lessons.
The women of Jeywafa clan embraced this new, more organised and regular schooling rota. The wisest and, frankly, the sternest among them took on roles as full time schoolmarms. I knew many of the older women from my own youth, and I knew that they were not to be trifled with.
So it was with trepidation that I stepped into the simple, rather clean schoolhouse. It had four classrooms and a meeting hall that doubled as a staff area. Seeing nobody in the main hallway, our escort pointed his spear to the door on the far western wall. “Try dere.” he said, before taking up a position by the exit. Thus preventing my escape.
With a far too happy Ames leading the way, we trekked into the meeting hall. There we found a stern looking orcish woman standing at a workbench. Her gray hair was neatly combed, her black dress perfectly ironed, and her boots were polished to a mirror shine. She seemed to be sorting brightly colored stones into piles. Upon seeing me, her haggard countenance transformed into one of deep suspicion.
“You.” was the greeting that the elder schoolmarm had for me.
My reply was immediate and instinctive. “Good morning Mrs. Tasslewick.”
The woman scowled at me for a moment. But then Mrs. Tasslewick underwent an amazing transformation. Upon turning to face Ames, the old orc was all kindness and smiles. “Great Cat of North. Is honor to have you.”
That’s when I knew that today was going to be filled with unfairness.
Ames’ Orcish wasn’t perfect, but the were-cat managed to say, “Honor is mine. Mate here to teach kids about past.”
The effort wasn’t perfect, but hearing Ames speaking the native tongue was enough to make the schoolmarm absolutely radiant. She said, “He go to first class on right. Older students. If dey get it, we try younger ones next time. We have tea and talk.”
Ames did their best to hide a lizard-eating grin. The were-cat said, “You heard her dear. You may go now.”
Mrs. Tasslewick knew Common well enough to take up her cue. She gave me a brief scowl and waved me off dismissively with the back of her gnarled hand.
I sighed and marched out of the meeting hall. The first classroom on the right was called ‘Python’, apparently. Glancing at the sign across the hall, I saw that it was called ‘Boa’. The two rooms down the hall were called ‘Asp’ and ‘Noodle’. I assumed the size of the snake corresponded to the age of the children that the room hosted. With some trepidation, I stepped into the python pit.
I was greeted by three dozen sets of beady little eyes staring right at me. Briefly I wondered if our escort would really stab me if I decided to make a break for it.
Each orc child was around 9 or 10 years old. To be fair, they seemed more intrigued than malicious in any way. I heard murmurs of ‘salt guy’ ripple from desk to desk. The words were spoken with curiosity and amazement.
At the front of the class, the half-orc schoolmarm rapped her pointing stick against the slate board. I didn’t know her. She was dressed similarly to Mrs. Tasslewick, but looked to be about two decades younger. “Dis not just salt guy. Dis Sorch of the Engine. He blew big hole in village. You misbehave, he blow you all up.”
The class was suddenly quiet and attentive. I wondered if it was the best idea to leave the threat of Fireballing a bunch of ten year olds hanging in the air like that. I didn’t even know the Fireball spell. But I skipped past the clarifications, opting for a greeting instead. “Hi kids. Hope you study hard.”
The schoolmarm rapped her pointing stick on the front slate again, this time to get my attention. She asked, “You gonna teach history, yeah?”
I quickly nodded.
That stick was leveled right at my forehead as instructions were conveyed. “Keep word simple, no fancy magic school talk. Keep in Orcish, we no use Common til afternoon. Have question, ask me. Got
it?”
My reply was immediate and humble, “Yes ma’am.”
I turned to address the classroom, in Orcish of course. I said, “Hi. Name is Sorch Stonebender.”
“GOOD MORNING MISTER STONEBENDER!”
I was unprepared for this unified assault upon my ears. I cast a quick glance back at the schoolmarm, but she seemed to be looking upon the class with approval. I tried to address the subject at hand, since history was less likely to produce loud and unexpected social niceties.
“Here to talk about Panos. Panos where we live. Clerics of Melflavin use big tube to look at sky. Dey say we just one of many rocks that spin around sun. Dunno much about other rocks. Do know about small rock dat spin ‘round Panos. Dat’s the moon. Some say dere’s smaller moon hidden behind first, but no proof. So we just say one moon for now.”
I could tell that I already lost about half of them. They were sitting up straight so that I wouldn’t Fireball them, but a lot of those beady eyes were starting to glass over. It was time to impress them.
I said, “Panos cold at tips, hot at edges, and cold again towards middle. Middle gots ice and mountains and snow. Who here seen snow?”
Every single little green hand in the class shot up, much to my chagrin.
I asked, “What, really?”
One of the little monsters said, “We have field trip to Ice House!”
Another said, “We got to eat turnips!”
“I saw man pee on dead rat!”
The schoolmarm said, dryly, “It was interesting field trip.”
I cleared my throat. “Okay, good. So you know how cold it get. We way, way South of dat. So super warm compared to Ice House. But dey say if keep going South, so far that sea start to spin, it get cold again. Big block of ice in ocean dere. Then warm again when get to other side.”
Again, I was losing them. They saw a man pee on a rat, and I was coming in a distant second.
“Panos use ta be full of demons.”
Suddenly those little eyes got wide. Got ‘em.
“Demons and angels, all use ta live here. But old gods use them to fight, and all lose power. So they agree to put angels high in clouds, and demons way underground. They make rules for game, rules we dunno. Then they make orc, and human, and elf. They used in big game, but no tell them rules. We know different god have different way to win big game. We know war not only way for any of ‘em to win. And we know new gods join in game too when they get here.”
A little hand went up.
“Yeah?”
The orc girl asked, innocently, “Why we have war if no need to?”
That’s when I realized that I wasn’t prepared for these questions.
Before I could answer, another little voice said, “If orc and human make half orc, what do orc and elf make?”
“Why you blow up middle of village?”
“Do we get test on all dis?”
Luckily, the schoolmarm stepped in. She said, “Hey, he not smart ‘nuff for dese questions. He jus’ talk about Panos.”
I had just been put in the position of accepting being called an idiot, but at the same time I could avoid a lot of difficult questions. I was okay with that.
I continued, “Human mostly stay in plains, elf in forests, and orc in hills and swamps. Elf good at stealth and magic. Human at build stuff and talk to gods. Orc good at hunt and fight. Other race like wererat and halfling and stuff are magic or holy creations from old gods. Dey good at lotsa things.”
I paused. I did decide to tackle one of the tougher questions. “You ask about war. People fight war for lotsa reason, not just gods. First huge war 900 years ago. Human fight elf for using too many trees to make stuff. Second war about 130 years ago. Orc fight elf over big holy war and someone kill wrong big important guy. Lotsa people die, real sad. Then new gods come along, and a little fight over dat. But since then, no real big wars between races.”
Another little green hand went up. Just one.
Warily, I asked, “Yeah?”
“If war bad, why you kill Necromancer?”
The rest of the class was quiet this time. Dozens of young orcs looked at me for an answer.
I took a deep breath and said, “He was bad guy. He use dead people to try kill living people. All he want was do bad things for another dead guy named Harrington. Had to stop him to save village. Save you all.”
Another voice piped up, “My daddy is a necromancer. You no hurt him, right?”
I stared at the small creature. “Your daddy not necromancer.”
“Yeah-huh!”
I rolled my eyes a little and said, “Only smart orc can be necromancer.”
I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. I had heard about theoretical research into time travel magic, and in that moment I wished that they were successful. Because I really needed to go back about three seconds and shut myself up.
The boy started crying. He said, “Mean Mister Stonebender call my daddy dumb!”
I felt the room turning against me. I quickly said, “No, no, your daddy can be smart without being smart orc! Uh, smart orc just mean… orc who use magic.”
They weren’t buying it.
“So we all dumb cuz we no use magic?”
“Well, Glorm’s dad is kinda dumb…”
“He not necromancer either, he make fences.”
“My daddy can beat up Mister Stonebender. Me go get him right now!”
“Me do magic too. Pull finger.”
“I gotta pee!”
The half orc schoolmarm reached her limit. She shouted, “ALL YOU’S SHUT IT!”
The screaming, crying, and sniffling all came to a sudden halt.
The woman was clearly fuming at me, but there was a certain protocol that had to be followed apparently. “We go on break now. All thank Mister Stonebender before he leave.”
“THANK YOU MISTER STONEBENDER!”
Despite the fact that around half of them hated me at this point, their unified and deafening gratitude shook the walls of the schoolroom. I beat a hasty retreat.
Ames and Mrs. Tasslewick were just outside the classroom, waiting for my exit. They grabbed me and quickly ushered me into the staff area before the mob of kids could isolate me in the hallway.
Once we were in the relative safety of the meeting hall, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was about to apologise for my performance when Mrs. Tasslewick made her assessment.
“That go real good. You come back in few weeks, talk to next class down. Use smaller word.”
Ames’ eyes were brimming with mischief. My mate said, “Oh, he’d be happy to.”
I stared at the old schoolmarm in disbelief. I said, “But dey all wanna kill me!”
Mrs. Tasslewick snorted. She said, “Not all. And they no throw rocks or nothin’. Don’t be big baby. It was good.”
“I called that boy’s dad dumb.”
Her reply was immediate, “His dad is dumb.”
Ames smoothly cut in, “Mrs. Tasslewick, many thanks for tea. Many thanks for let Sorch speak to kids. We come back soon.”
Ames got a wet kiss on the cheek fur from the normally stern matron. I got a sharp incline of the head, indicating the direction the exit.
I made Ames scout the hallway for any adolescent ambushes. The kids apparently valued their recess time far more than petty revenge. We gathered our guard on the way out, and the three of us sought the safety of the streets.
The spear wielding orc looked around. Whatever he saw or didn’t see was apparently enough for him to declare his job over. He wandered off without another word.
Ames nudged my ribs with an elbow. “So, still dreading the return to colder climates?”
I replied, “Let’s get the hells out of here before that kid’s dad finds me.”
Chapter 7
“It’s freezing and I hate you!”
I said, “Stop stealing Will’s lines.”
I did sympathize with my mate. Despite having a natural fur coat, Ames had no
chance of being as warm as I was on this trip into the mountains. My Minor Polymorph spell was able to emulate traits from the Red Bark Beetle, specifically its incredible resistance to cold. My day consisted of getting cold for half an hour, casting Minor Polymorph, traveling in perfect comfort for well over an hour, cooling down again, and then breaking for lunch huddled around my magic pot. After lunch, I started the same cycle over again.
Having been successful in the exploration of water and earth based issues for two different guilds, Ames and I had been sent on a mission to the mountain plateau not too far from the Arcane University. Master Gideon, bundled up to a degree that only a were-wolf could realistically achieve, Teleported us to the highest point on the mountain that still retained any features whatsoever. The problem was: Everything above that elevation was so flat and white, so completely devoid of landmarks, that Teleporting there was impossible.
Gideon bid us a safe journey, and then bedded down so that he could Teleport back to the Arcane University after some rest and preparation. The were-wolf saved us an entire day’s trek, easily. But even with this arcane aid, Ames and I were taking quite a long time reaching the flat mountain top. The good news was that the mountainside had a fairly well defined path; very little true mountain climbing needed to be done. The bad news was that the air became rather thin at this elevation. A hundred paces seemed like a thousand.
Still, we were on track to reach our destination before sunset. Whether or not the two of us would be able to accomplish anything constructive was a different story altogether. Max had saddled us with a difficult diplomatic task, to say the least.
Yetis. A race so reclusive, many folk believed them to be myth. The more seasoned mages of the Arcane University knew that the yetis were quite real, of course.
I thought back to what I had learned about the school’s interaction with this race of ancient snow people. Before the Arcane Syphons started work on the school, the elves sought special permission from these stealthy mountain hunters to begin construction. They knew that their students would be living in the shadow of the yetis’ traditional homeland, and preferred not to disrespect the reclusive but powerful creatures. After that first meeting, contact had been spotty at best. In more recent times, only the most informal and chance communications with the yetis took place.