May all your troubles last as long as your New Year’s resolutions.
Pre-Fall saying.
The New Year was rolling out, and Johanna had managed to negotiate a stay-out from the Executive. The hospitality at Wexler’s residence was lovely, with all the staff and privileges, but from time to time, they were reminded that this was not their home or their family. They were hosted there because they were critical to the upcoming storm, not for any other reason.
But for once, they would stay out for the evening and night and return only in 2175.
They had an invitation from Julian Kartmann and Ulrich Sengfield.
The former salvager – a much more reputable term than scavenger – had his home in a separate district of Vernon, where his store was located. They found it easily and left their inevitable escort at the inn right next door to enjoy their separate New Year’s Eve. With less alcohol.
“Welcome, welcome,” the Contender said, hugging them all.
The Kartmanns had reorganized the store’s ground floor, leaving a large table with benches. They found the rest of the family hurrying to finish the preparations.
Julian’s wife looked, well, very minotaur. Tall and muscular, with a pair of horns barely smaller than her husband and slightly darker coming out from a mop of short hair, over a face that reminded Johanna of her mom. A trio of smaller forms rushed back and forth from the floor above, bringing all sorts of food bowls.
“Your kids?”
“Well, duh,” Julian replied.
The three young minotaurs did look like ordinary ten-year-olds, with only three-inch horns to differentiate them from unchanged kids.
“Three sons,” she noted.
“Yep. That’s often the case among us. You always have either boys or girls. Unless you have twins, then it’s one and the other.”
“And you have lots,” Laura said.
“Well, we decided we’d abstain after the third. We were already a bit on the old side.”
“At thirty-four,” the minotauress interrupted.
“Well, you weren’t saying that when Oscar was doing the 90-decibel nights.”
She snorted in mirth and turned back to arranging the dishes. Johanna realized she had no idea what minotaur cooking was. When they were on the expedition east, Julian ate the same chow as everyone else and enjoyed the ice cream their Water Shaper cook made. At least they did not seem to have special diets, like the Wendigos, who were pure carnivores, or the Dryads who were the very opposite.
“They all look the same…”
“Ah, but minotaurs grow up different from humans. They grow fast. Oscar is six, while Rory is eleven in two months.”
“Really?” Laura asked before Johanna could.
“Grow up like weeds, then nothing for eight-nine years, then puberty hits, and next year, they’ll be full grown. And we age gracefully, too.”
The snort from the side belied the affirmation.
“Where’s Ulrich?” Johanna asked.
“Out. Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon.”
“Can we do…”
“Nope. You’re guests; let the kids work.”
It was a bit weird to see a household with kids like that. For a brief moment, she felt nostalgic for home. Her nephews and nieces would be growing, even if they were still a bit younger than the Kartmanns. As a fifth, she had grown up with only older siblings until her oldest brother started his family.
“Drinks?” the wife, Celeste, asked them.
In no time, they all got silverware goblets full of a punch mixture. She sniffed and then tasted it. It had all sorts of strange fruity flavors – and a strong rum base.
“You know, I was hoping to get this at home in New Sandusky,” she confessed to Julian. “Last year, we were stuck in an inn in the middle of winter in the Marches of the Dakota, running away from Montana.”
“Well, this time, you’re stuck in winter in Independence, but with people you know!” Julian thumbed up.
She looked at the scene. The end of the table was now covered in various bowls and plates full of snacks. She then looked around.
“That’s your store, then?”
“Herbs and remedies. The Ancients had entire industries dedicated to making medicines, but half of what the doctors prescribe, we make on demand. We get things we can’t compete on mainly from the west, almost all from Eagle. Plus, of course, supplements, like any self-respecting minotaur does.”
“Does it really work…” Laura asked.
Julian rolled his eyes.
“They see the horns; they see the loads of kids; of course, it works. It has to. Wouldn’t make sense otherwise. And if it fails, then there’s always a good explanation why.”
His voice lowered into a theatrical whisper.
“I also always add dried powdered ginseng, just in case. Can’t hurt.”
“You said that…” Laura asked, looking at Celeste.
“Well, my horns grow back fast, but sometimes not fast enough. Don’t tell anyone, though!”
A knock interrupted him, followed by an even louder knock.
“Ah, here they come.”
“They?”
The door opened, revealing a heavily wrapped thirster and an equally padded but much smaller figure. Johanna blinked at the bald head once the hat came out before she realized it had to be a dwarf, similar to the one they met what seemed a lifetime ago back in Valetta. This one was slightly older, although it was hard to tell with the heavily weathered face.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Dat them?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t look much. But then, you don’t look much, and your now a big sorcerer.”
Ulrich laughed, and the dwarf simply thumped his snow-covered boots on the entrance mat – which she realized now included a faded pair of horns as a decorative motif – before starting to shed his wool and fur padding.
“May I introduce you to Keegan Vekanson, salvager emeritus in the big expanses of the Sawatch.”
“Ah, one of your team. I remember the stories,” she said.
“Good ones, I hope?” the diminutive salvager said, grabbing a thimble handed out by one of the kids. “Smell blood orange? You still have some?”
“That we do,” Julian confirmed. “Of course, your shipment never lasts.”
“If I’d known I’d be there, I’d have sent more on the way. But I was supposed to find that guy here near the big lakes, and I show up, and they tell me he’s gone haring to the capital!” he said, slapping Ulrich’s arm.
Johanna frowned.
“I sent a message to all of the old team,” the thirster confessed. “Told them some of it.”
“Have you heard from Sethek-Eshes?” Julian asked.
“They haven’t answered.”
“Incubi…” Julian sighed theatrically.
“And Snowbound is probably way too busy with the war northeast,” Keegan added.
“He’s going to be way busier,” Ulrich said.
At the dwarf’s apparent surprise, Ulrich started explaining the way things were unfolding.
“You didn’t tell me when you came pick me at the inn!” Keegan protested.
“Lots of things have been happening.”
“And they stole your Talent thingies,” he said, looking at Johanna.
She simply nodded back.
“Stop talking about bad things, and come. Drinks are ready,” Celeste said.
“That wasn’t drinks?” Johanna asked.
“Real drinks!” Keegan exclaimed.
The Minotaur’s New Year party was very different from what Johanna was used to. It was half buffet, half sitting dinner, with food on the side, and you went, loaded yourself with whatever, and came back to chat, unlike the full six-course meal that was the tradition at home. The three former scavengers were mostly reminiscing about their old salvage expeditions. Johanna noticed they always avoided that last one; from some hints she’d picked up during the expedition to Washington, that was when their missing team member had died. Miles had mentioned getting some vengeance against the Aranea where they’d found one Artefact on the way, although it certainly wasn’t the same Changed beast.
They spoke a bit about some interesting loot they’d found.
“Remember that building in the middle of the Huntsville ruins?”
“The ones no one had ever wanted to loot?”
“Because it looked like each floor came from a different building. And no one trusted it to remain stable. Henry’s team told us about that.”
“The armory on the second floor was top loot. We even came back a second time.”
“All the town missed was an artifact.”
“Henry had found one a decade before we came.”
Johanna paid some attention to the chatter, leaning against the drink table. Tom moved and slipped behind her, wrapping his arms around her.
“It’s nice.”
“It is,” she admitted.
“Is it?”
She sighed slightly.
“I had really hoped we’d have a real New Year party. Just us. But instead, we’re still running around.”
Tom didn’t reply, just putting his chin over the top of her head.
“Still better.”
Ulrich waved at the two of them, and she untangled from Tom’s arms and took back a seat.
“I was telling Keegan how he picked the parchments more or less at random,” Ulrich said, slapping Julian’s shoulder.
“Not surprised,” the dwarf admitted.
“I’m not as flashy as ‘Mr Tree’ here, but some of it was useful. I can still even tell when that small guy tries to engage his sneak.”
“But only if you’re looking,” Peter countered.
“Too bad this Talent House of yours is on hold. We could use some help in the Sawatch. I’m a good hunter meself, but we always have some Changed prowling around come winter. Traps only go so far – some are capable to bending metal easy, and your beartrap gets broken. Which means you have to hunt close, not kill them safely from a distance.”
“About that…” Julian started, but Celeste interrupted them.
“You know what time it is?”
“NEW YEAR!!!!!” the kids exploded.
They all stood and started kissing and hugging.
“May the year end the troubles,” Peter whispered to Johanna as he hugged her.
“Next year at home,” Laura added.
Tom didn’t make any wish. He didn’t need any.
They were still drinking the “New Year special,” which was a recipe both alcoholic and supposed to clear the brain, according to ancient minotaur lore. Laura laughed and pointed out that minotaur lore couldn’t be more than 15 decades, to which Julian countered that the first minotaurs were changed in the Mojave in September of the Fall year, “so more than 150 years now”.
“By three months, you mean,” she laughed again.
“Well, minotaurs are always prepared for anything. Speaking of which, before my wife decided to rudely… sorry, diplomatically interrupt me…”
He sprang and climbed to the stairs. He returned almost immediately with a large brown bag sporting the Kartmann store logo.
“I got this prepared when I came back after the expedition…”
“And I told you no,” Celeste immediately stopped him. “Besides, you said yourself, the kids at ‘level zero’, as you say. They’re way too young. And not everyone needs to be a salvager.”
Johanna straightened herself, guessing immediately what the bag was going to contain. She was not disappointed when Julian pulled out a stack of ancient-looking books.
“Well, we do have a guest that was invited to partake, no?” he said to his wife.
“Wait, what?” Keegan said, straightening himself in his chair.
“That was before the troubles, anyway. And a dozen books won’t change the war, right?” he said, looking at Ulrich, then Johanna.
The table was cleared, and the kids had climbed on various chairs to watch. Johanna had already shaken hands and hugged the dwarf, but she still formally held his hand before placing it alongside hers on the first of the small paperback from Julian’s secret cache.
Level, Strength, Impale. Looked like a real martial specialization, she thought.
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td width="216">
Keegan Vakanson
</td>
<td width="216">
Male dwarf, 41 years, 9 months
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="216">
Fast Skirmisher
Level: 10 (89,000 XP needed)
Stamina: 2/425
</td>
<td width="216">
0 unallocated skill points
XP: 14,141
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="216">
STR: 20 (8,000 XP needed)
Grueling Pace (90)
Impale (50)
</td>
<td width="216">
AUT: 16 (5,000 XP needed)
Disarm (42)
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="216">
AGI: 17 (3,000 XP needed)
Reflect Strike (44)
</td>
<td width="216">
PER: 17 (2,000 XP needed)
Finish (61)
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="216">
DEX: 19 (5,000 XP needed)
Dual Slash (48)
Instant Pierce (48)
</td>
<td width="216">
EMP: 16 (2,000 XP needed)
Next Target (42)
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2" width="431">
450% more running endurance
50% less sleep required (capped, 90%)
Enhance your effective Strength by up to 9.4 for skill checks
Unshakable grip on a weapon under 42 pounds
Enhance your effective Dexterity by up to 9.6 for skill checks
61% higher strength for holding weapons
Enhance your effective Perception by up to 4.2 for skill checks
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
“So, he’s now level 10?” Ulrich asked.
“He was six when we started. And yes, he’s at Johanna’s level now,” Julian confirmed.
“I still have no idea what this means, but the names are particularly… gruesome,” Keegan said. “Finish? Impale? Next Target?”
“Beware, or they’re going to recruit you,” Julian said, smiling.
“I would have liked something more… remote. Like Bullseye or something.”
“The specialization depends on a base we don’t really control. But Moore knows better.”
“We all forgot about the Ancient,” Celeste suddenly realized. “He’s there… you’re there, right?”
“Not fully, but yes. He’s... behind us four. All the time, even today,” Johanna confirmed.
“Then move together, right there,” the minotauress ordered.
When the four were gathered and standing, the rest gathered in front and raised their glasses.
“To the last of the Ancients!”
“CHEERS!”
Moore had not realized it was the New Year until he saw the decorations and the 2175 all over the minotaur’s home. The beyond in which he was floating bodiless didn’t have a clock or anything, after all.
This was way better than the inn in which the four had celebrated the previous New Year. At least there wasn’t a drunk fight to involve Tom and Peter. And the surprise gift for the mystery dwarf was unexpected. The sneaky minotaur had obviously stocked before the rush and was sticking it to the man, even in the 22<sup>nd</sup> century.
He couldn’t hear any of the talk, but it was obvious this was an old friend of the others, maybe even one of their scavenging comrades of old. He also obviously had a much more adventurous life, seeing the enormous amount of XP he had accumulated without a specialization or a skill.
I should be in NY with the others. We always did that sphere drop.
It was sometimes hard to think that everyone he knew was almost certainly over a century dead.
And so was he.