Another Stupid Trilogy

by Bill Ricardi

  As my son slumbered and we prepared for some much needed rest ourselves, the four of us discussed what we learned. We knew that the source of this issue was deep within the earth. ‘The Hum’ or whatever it was had been resonating somehow. This caused heat, and quakes, and disruption. And in this case, the insanity of creatures that possessed an affinity for the earth. Minotaurs were not entirely immune to this effect.

  Ames and I related our recent experiences and put forward a theory: Whatever this power was, it had been forcing the creatures that are usually hidden deep in the earth to move up and away from the source of the disruption. This accounted for at least some of the issues that were being reported all over Panos. Similarly, this power was having ill effects on elementals of all sorts, including the air and ice quasi-elementals that were driving the yetis from their home.

  Toby looked to Tara after hearing our theory. The stub-horned minotaur considered for a while. She said, “You’re on to something. But not all the pieces are there.”

  I sighed, but couldn’t disagree with her. Even as we all laid down for the night, I had a nagging feeling that this puzzle was far from solved.

  Chapter 9

  Back at the Arcane University, my son was being a pain in the ass.

  Despite being in agony, despite having to hold on to both of his parents to have any mobility whatsoever, Benno was insisting that he couldn’t miss certain classes. I pointed out that he couldn’t actually cast spells in his condition, which seemed to make him even more upset. Ames had to promise to get Gideon to visit him so that he would have advanced theory work to study.

  After making sure that Benno got back to his room, and giving Titan instructions for proper dosage on his herbal painkillers, Ames and I proceeded to the North Wing for a meeting with Max.

  The group was back in the Headmaster’s dining area, as squeezing two huge minotaurs into Max’s office seemed like a bad idea. Ames and I were the last to arrive.

  The old codger gave the two of us a scowl and said, “Finally. Sit, we have much to discuss.”

  After pacing around while we settled ourselves, Max pushed aside one of the padded redwood chairs, preferring to lean over the dinner table with braced arms. It was likely that his back was acting up again.

  “Well, as usual, you’ve found new and impressive ways to screw up what should have been a simple mission.”

  We all groaned. It was going to be one of those meetings.

  Max slid a scrap of parchment across the table to Ames, “750 gold has been deposited into each of your accounts. I have early reports made by the constable to the local Guild presence. At least some of the personal items that you recovered were from missing persons cases. So in that minimal way, you were successful.”

  I glanced over. It was a short list of names. I was glad that those families would at least have some closure.

  Max was quick to quash any good feelings, “However, as you yourselves point out, we have only wispy threads to pull at, insofar as the overall climate mystery is concerned. I have yetis camping in my backyard and farmers waving pitchforks in my general direction. And before you could go in and get confirmation as to the source, you had a cave system collapse on you. Again.”

  My mate pointed out, “The last time we had a cave collapse on us it was a Culinary Guild mission. Unless you plan to pay for the teleportation fees, you have no right to moan about it.”

  The Headmaster sighed. He said, “And we have another mission that needs to be completed before the school year starts up again. Sadly, our star student carelessly stumbled into a pile of rocks. So much for family adventuring. I think we’re starting to see the pedigree of this particular bloodline.”

  Ames’ voice carried a note of warning, “Max.”

  Tara added, “Stop.”

  But the Headmaster continued unabated, “I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked that the junior greenskin screwed up. Like father like son after a-”

  I almost made it. I was already halfway over the granite table when Tara’s fingertips caught my shoulder. She barely managed to restrain my forward momentum, causing my right hook to miss Max’s jaw by a scant inch. Ames’ and Tara’s sudden grip on my ankles prevented a second lunge for Max’s throat.

  The Headmaster staggered away from the table until his back impacted the wall that separated our room from the kitchen. He cracked the wood of the shutters that covered the kitchen’s serving hatch. His face, unsurprisingly, was a mask of shock and alarm.

  Throughout all of this, Toby sat stoically in his seat, muscular arms folded across his chest. His helpful suggestion was, “Let him go, let’s see what happens.”

  Fathers understand.

  It was up to Tara to bring order to proceedings again. First the cleric scolded me for resorting to violence instead of using my words. Then she roundly lambasted Max for mocking Benno’s condition, particularly when his parents were in the room. At the end of it all, I was emotionally contained, and Max seemed to be ashamed.

  After a brief period of silence, something unexpected happened. It might have been one of the signs of the apocalypse.

  Max said, “I’m sorry.”

  Even Toby raised his eyebrows at that.

  The Headmaster continued, “Sorch, your son is hurt and I spoke carelessly. I misread the situation and I underestimated the parental bond. Please accept my apology.”

  I didn’t trust myself to speak at that moment. I grunted and gave Max a guarded nod.

  With everyone calmed down, the Headmaster continued.

  “At any rate, we have a temporary replacement who you have worked with before. He has agreed to step up while Benno is on the mend.”

  A young man stepped out of the short hallway leading to the kitchen. He was more pale than usual, so I assumed he witnessed my little attempted scuffle from his hiding spot. I felt a slight rush of shame. Had I known that my ‘little brother’ was watching, I might have actually managed to restrain myself rather than fly off the handle. For his sake.

  Leeson must have been around 20 years old by now, and he had grown. The lad hadn’t gotten much taller, but to say that the once-scrawny kid ‘bulked up’ was an understatement. Leeson possessed the physique of a boxer: Lean, powerful, but not to the point of sacrificing speed. He had the same raven black hair, and his training hadn’t quelled the kindness in those intelligent brown eyes. But my friend and former student was a man now.

  This unexpected appearance was enough to make Toby stir from his seat. He laughed and walked over to give the human a big bearhug. As everyone was greeting Leeson like the old friend that he was, I thought back to the last time I saw him. It was less than a year ago as I recalled. I seemed to remember it was a rather exciting affair. Ah yes. Gideon needed help assessing his student’s chosen speciality. It was seasons ago, but I distinctly recall saying:

  “Melee magic.”

  I had said the words in much the same way one might say ‘dry toast’. I recognised it as a food, but had no appetite for it.

  Master Gideon snorted at me. “Get off your high horse, Sorch. Flaming swords, magical shields, Ebon Chains? Given your own repertoire you can hardly look down on Leeson for wanting to get in there and mix it up.”

  I shot back, “Gee mister were-wolf, I wonder if you might be biased at all?”

  Throughout my playful banter with Gideon, Leeson remained silent. Apprehensive. It was clear that my approval mattered to him. And I understood why: Apparently his parents reacted badly to the announcement of his chosen mystical specialty. They didn’t see it as particularly helpful for when his time came to take over the family interests.

  Leeson trusted and respected my opinion. I let him off the hook.

  Turning to the young human, I said, “If you’re passionate about this, I know you’re going to be a success. In the last year, I’ve watched you transform. It hasn’t been unimpressive. So you’re taking this all the way then? Finals topic, possible post graduate studies?”

  The young nob
leman nodded eagerly. “Whichever route I go, I know this is going to be my passion.”

  I turned back to Gideon, “Sounds like the kid’s mind is made up, why did you make me come all this way?”

  The were-wolf smiled toothily. “I thought you might like a little sparring practice.”

  And so I found myself in the Testing Chamber. It was a fancy name for a dead-end cave at the far side of the Arcane University’s West Wing. This was where they sent advanced students who were trying out dangerous new spells, or conjurors trying to open portals to dangerous quasi-elemental planes. Or a trio of combat mages looking to start a friendly little brawl.

  Gideon reminded us, “The iron lockbox by the entryway has a couple of emergency healing potions, should anyone get carried away. Try to pull your punches though.”

  I knew that I was a distant third in this contest. ‘Distant’ being the key word: Most of my spells were focused on striking from a distance or making distance to work with. Even though Master Gideon gave me some hints as to how I should prepare before I came to visit, my repertoire matched up badly against these two; a mystical brawler and a focused, well rounded combat magus. Still, I had some tricks up my sleeve.

  I palmed a cloudy crystal from my pouch as the human and were-wolf shook out their arms and cracked their knuckles. I started casting exactly as Leeson said “Go.”

  When the cloudy crystal slipped from my grasp and into the ether, there was a duo of groans. The Fog spell was simple, but effective. It filled the chamber with a thick mist, reducing visibility to just a few paces. This was an environment that I was used to, having grown up in a damp seaside area. More importantly, it gave me the time and space that I needed to be more cagey.

  I knew the two spells that were being cast, although neither were in my repertoire. Rick and Will used to cast Mirror Image on a regular basis, so when I heard the arcane words being snarled out, I knew we were about to see multiple phantom were-wolves. And I recalled a certain elven magus incanting the Enlarge spell to reverse the shrinking effect on my minotaur friends. So I expected to see a giant Leeson in the near future.

  As we circled in the uncertain Fog, I went over my options. I had Silence ready, which would give me a chance against Leeson but would be suicidal against Gideon. Alternatively, Ebon Chains of Binding could catch someone in a moment of weakness, but I wouldn’t use it against either of my opponents unless I was at the peak of my power.

  I heard a yelp of surprise, followed by a snarl. That was my cue to conjure my Shield before cautiously stalking forward. I wouldn’t summon my Flaming Sword until the Fog lifted. It would glow like a torch in this misty environment and give away my position.

  I saw an impressive display when I was close enough to peer through the Fog at my friends. Leeson, now standing head and shoulders above his were-wolf opponent thanks to the Enlarge spell, had ‘popped’ two of Gideon’s Mirror Images at the cost of a nasty little gash across his ribcage. The two were locked together now, muscles straining as they fought over possession of Leeson’s elven staff. I took the opportunity to take out Rock and throw it through the last Image, which was comically grasping at the air.

  Knowing that I was planning mischief from the flank, Master Gideon ceded control of the staff, instead using its leverage to roll away from the big human and disappear into the Fog. Calculating that my cover was not long for this world, I took out a burnt stick and started to summon a Flaming Sword, choosing a khopesh to give me a little extra edge against that straight staff. At the same time, my human friend cast a spell that I had never seen before. Later I would discover it was called Aldus’ Armor. It made the melee mage’s robes as tough as leather, while still being as light as cotton.

  After our first clash, I knew I was in over my head. As much as I practiced with this spell, my swordsmanship was weak in comparison to Leeson’s obvious prowess with the staff. He parried every attempt to curve a strike around his defenses. The hammering return blows numbed my Shield arm and caused me to stumble backwards under my former student’s relentless assault. There was no doubt in my mind: I had taken an unfair fight.

  Of course, not only was Leeson Enlarged, but his elven staff was permanently enhanced by the Ironwood spell. A mage could only use the Permanence ritual a handful of times in their lives, assuming they ever mastered it at all. It extended their power outside their body, and overuse would cause their soul to slip away. But given his vocation, Leeson committed to enchanting his gift from the mages of Arbitros. The Ironwood enchantment meant that the human’s staff was as light as wood in his hands, but as durable as iron. It stuck with the force and mass of a metal weapon as well. Damned unfair if you were on the receiving end, like I was at the time.

  With little fanfare, Leeson deftly disarmed me. My Flaming Sword boiled away to nothingness as soon as it left my hand. Just as I was about to give up, I heard Gideon chanting from not so far away. Leeson and I both knew that particular spell. As my Fog finally dissipated, the human started chanting, meeting my gaze as he did so. I knew this spell as well, having seen Leeson use it to deadly ends. He was daring me to interrupt his rather fast spell and face the might of his melee presence… or let him go. But if I let him go, I knew that I had to do something about the were-wolf. After Leeson Blinked, I would be the only one in range for Master Gideon’s spell.

  With a frustrated growl, I turned and charged towards the were-wolf, bellowing in an attempt to distract my friend and mentor. The were-wolf did the calculations, and must have decided that I would reach him a split second before his Ebon Chains of Binding could complete. He aborted the spell and opened both meaty paws to face my charge. Rather than trying to stop my forward momentum, Gideon redirected it. I was hurled over the were-wolf’s hip. I must have sailed for three paces before meeting the ground with a bruising thump and roll.

  I decided that having a little rest on the ground wasn’t such a bad idea. It allowed me to watch as Leeson approached his Master and started to circle. I wasn’t quite done meddling, however. My next spell would require no material components, no gestures of any sort. Moving nothing but my lips, I performed all of the mental gymnastics required to cast the Dispel Enchantment spell on Leeson’s Enlarge. The human looked genuinely surprised as he shrunk back down to proper size. The betrayed look that he shot me was answered only by my tired smirk.

  The next minute was breathtaking. One would think the wounded human would have no chance against a were-wolf, even if that were-wolf was a slightly battered magus. One would be wrong. Although not reaching the sheer speed of Ames, the balanced prowess of Bruce, or the might of Toby, my young friend was holding his own. He had sufficient training to allow his Aldus’ Armor spell to absorb some of the more glancing rakes of Gideon’s claws. Soon the punishing counters started to wear on the Master’s wrists and forearms. Leeson was winding, but Gideon was slowly being picked apart by that whirring, relentless staff-work.

  A calculated blow to the back of the were-wolf’s left heel put Gideon on his rump. Immediately both paws went up in the air, indicating surrender. Leeson doubled over in exhaustion, panting hard.

  This was my chance.

  I scrambled to my feet and charged towards the seemingly distracted and winded human. He would have interrupted my Ebon Chains of Binding, but that didn’t mean that grappling was out of the question. I just needed to close the final two paces and-

  In a display of practiced reflex, Leeson lashed out with the butt of his weapon. The Ironwood staff impacted with my jaw perfectly. It pushed the bone back into a sensitive spot that boxers called ‘the button’. Push the button hard enough, and you knock your opponent out. Orcs were not immune to this effect.

  The next thing I knew, Leeson’s concerned face was hovering a couple of inches away from my own. He was calling my name, trying to bring me back.

  “Sorch. Sorch?”

  I was back in Max’s dining room. Leeson had greeted everyone else before walking over to me and looking into my somewhat distant
eyes. My lack of immediate reaction clearly confused the young human, who was now caught somewhere in between an uncertain hug and an awkward handshake.

  I solved this issue by embracing my friend warmly. “Good to have you on board.” I said. And I meant it.

  With his chin on my shoulder, the young mage was able to ask, very softly, “Where were you just then?” Benno had a big mouth, and told Leeson what signs to watch for.

  I murmured back, “Our sparring session with Gideon.”

  He laughed softly and whispered, “Oh I remember that. I got lucky. That was before I mastered the Haste spell, and developed that silly new Shield.”

  My young friend was being modest. His new spell was far from silly. ‘Leeson’s Living Layer’ or just ‘Layer’ for short, was heralded as a tool that would reinvent melee magic. Much like Tara’s Divine Hammer, the Layer moved independently of the caster’s arms. It was larger than a buckler, smaller than a tower shield. The existence of this new spell meant that a defensive shield could be cast and then forgotten, leaving both of the mage’s hands free for other things. The built in animation and intelligence also meant that there was a chance that the Layer would defend the caster against dangers that they personally didn’t even know existed.

  In Gideon’s latest update, the were-wolf mentioned that Leeson had become a ‘true terror’ in combat. That sounded good news for our little adventuring party.

  As I let my young friend go, Max mentioned, “Toby is in charge for this one. I need that ample bovine elegance and charm on full display. This is a sticky situation.” The archmage gestured at the big paladin, who explained the scenario.

  Toby cleared his throat, and then said, “Let’s all take our seats again, this won’t be brief, unfortunately.”

  We all sat back down, making sure that Tara and Toby got the largest chairs once again. Even Max pulled out one of the padded wooden chairs. Briefly I wondered if I had tweaked his back when I forced him to retreat earlier. There was no guilt associated with the thought.