《A Garden Variety Troll》


 Chapter One: Flower Child

    Chapter One: Flower Child


    Zuglah Glun watched the group of adventurers approach the Spectre, swords drawn and shields raised. It was black-robed, and merciless in its persecution of the living. But they were valiant, glowing with confidence and the Blessing of their party¡¯s Cleric. He was clad in the thickest armor money could buy, fit for standing in front of a charging warhorse.


    The Fighter was clad in expensive Elven chain. Shield up, he strode towards the undead. He swung right away, his silvery blade flaring briefly as it passed through the space where the undead sentry had been. It reappeared in the midst of the party, a shower of razor-sharp ice daggers raining down from above. The entire group sprang away from each other with cries of alarm.


    A pair of Stone Ghouls rushed out of the darkness and seized the Blood Rogue by the arms, his dyed red leather armor useless against their life-draining aura. He began losing strength immediately, his knees buckling as they tried to drag him away into the shadows. The fighter spotted a small squad of skeletons moving in from the side, and leapt towards them with what could only be described as wild abandon.


    More like teammate abandonment, Zuglah thought to himself. He glanced towards the company Cleric, whom everyone had left to deal with the Spectre on his own. He lifted his mace high above his head and began chanting in dramatic fashion. It is too strong to be turned like that. The Spectre floated close, raking the holy man with his claws. The glow began fading immediately.


    Finally the Wizard stepped up. He spoke in a loud, commanding voice as he waved his glowing staff above his head. He surprised Zuglah by directing a large, luminous orange ball of fire towards the three skeletons instead of the Spectre. The Fighter was surprised too as the fireball exploded almost in his face. He leapt back with a yell.


    The Wizard pointed his staff towards the Spectre. The Fighter shook his sword at him, then turned back to the skeletons. Sighing, the Wizard blasted the Spectre into ribbons of light, then trudged over to the Cleric, who was still recovering from his blow. The Rogue called for help too.


    Zuglah had seen enough. Poor guy. He crawled away from the hole he had carved in the dungeon¡¯s ceiling, careful not to scrape against the stone walls. These lava tubes carried sound almost as well as they carried curious trolls.


    He emerged from the lava tube into a field of sulfuric hot springs and boiling mud pits. At seventeen years of age, he had reached his full height of about six feet. Not very tall for a troll, but his hide was a deep, rich blue and respectably thick. The shock of blue hair on top of his head was also thick, and admittedly so were his glasses. He wore a doublet of black and yellow that he quite enjoyed, and his trousers were sturdy leather, dyed black and well-worn. His boots were ill-fitting and patched.


    He had found the entrance to the lava tubes quite by accident, one day when he was enjoying the overly-heated mud and mineral baths. Once inside, it was easy to get lost in the warren of tunnels.


    Outside, the landscape was strewn about with every conceivable species of wildflower, which made for a gleaner¡¯s paradise. There were cowlicks and chumblies, which always sold well, and dragon¡¯s bane, starbutter, lilacs and Centaur¡¯s Hooves, which all sold very well but were as rare as herbs could be. They littered this field in abundance.


    His favorite, though, were the chicken pistules, and the Poppins. The chicken pistules were a perfect suspension for any and every solution. It had a high melting point, but a low emulsification factor that made it incredibly absorbent of whatever properties you cared to instill into it. Or so he had been told. All he knew was, it was magic.


    Zuglah scampered across the plains, eyes always on the ground ahead of him. He was in a hurry, so he would not have stopped for anything except perhaps a fat specimen of Centaur¡¯s Hooves or chicken pistules. They were not the reason why he kept a sharp eye. It was the Poppins.


    The Poppins alone were what kept him coming back. They were tiny, green bulbs loaded with a special pollen that had unusual properties, to say the least. If Zuglah was unlucky enough to step on one, it would result in a series of angry blood-blisters all the way up to his knee, and likely some ugly scars left behind when they popped. But that was only because he was a troll, with a properly thick hide. If something flimsy, like an elf or a human, were to step on one, it would set up a burning upon their flesh the likes of which they had never known. He had heard tell of humans that would knock themselves unconscious to escape the agony. Sometimes the damage was so bad that they ended up losing the leg.


    If Zuglah were insane enough to actually eat one of the bulbs, he would have nightmarish cramps and his bowel movements would be pure fire. An elf would probably suffer the same fate as he, but a human would simply die.


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    The Poppins were worth an entire silver Sovereign for ten. That made them worth more than the rest of the ingredients combined.


    But he saw no Poppins and he saw no chicken pistules on his way to the top of Ugly Tree Hill. He sat in the shade of the big, misshapen oak and slowly began eating his lunch while he watched the slope below him, and the graveyard carved halfway into the hill beneath.


    The entrance to the dungeon was in one of those crypts.


    He had judged correctly, and sure enough a golden light brightened the noonday sky. The crypt opened quickly, and the group spilled out, angry. They had been yelling at each other before the door even started opening, and attaining safety had done exactly nothing to improve inter-party relations. Zuglah watched, unnoticed.


    The old Wizard looked tired. He was normally a vigorous fellow, but Zuglah could tell that this particular group had drained him. He watched, hoping to see him spot the little gift that he had left him. He was in the midst of turning away from the group when he froze, then slowly looked about the cemetery. He looked up the hill and saw Zuglah for the first time. Zuglah lifted a hand away from his sandwich and waved. The man slowly raised a bemused hand of his own.


    Turning away, he opened a portal decidedly close to the group. They were all still angry but shaken, so he was able to bundle them off without too much trouble. He himself did not go through. Rather, he closed it as soon as they had left, and turned back to the tomb that Zuglah had brushed clean of debris. He opened a small, dark wood box from his pack and placed the Poppins carefully inside. Zuglah had been certain that knew how to safely handle them. After the rare group defeated enough monsters to bother with looting, all he ever saw the old magician pick up was the occasional mushroom.


    The next morning, Zuglah was startled to find a small leather pouch waiting for him. He could already tell that there was a jar inside, with a note. The note had only one word; Jump.


    There was an illustration of a human jumping over another human.


    Excitedly, Zuglah took a sip of the potion. It was thin, and tasted awful. In fact, it tasted very much like Poppins smelled. He put the jar down carefully, and swallowed. His stomach gave a little hitch, and a warmth spread from his center throughout his entire body. Jump? He couldn¡¯t not jump.


    He made it to the top of the hill in a single bound. Without thinking, he immediately leapt again and found himself high above his favorite field of flowers. Vertigo lurched through him, having never been independently this far away from the ground before. His lazy arc very soon had him speeding back towards the terrain at an uncomfortable velocity. His troll body was tough, but he fully expected to twist an ankle at the very least. But the only thing he felt upon landing was the burning desire to leap again. And so he did.


    He got almost halfway across the huge field of flowers before he figured that he should turn around and head back. On his second jump after he turned around, he found himself earth-locked once more. The ground felt hard, unyielding. But what fun the potion was!


    On his walk back, he was able to pick two more Poppins that he never would have seen otherwise. The tiny blue flower on top of the bulb was not very easy to see even from aloft. A field of wildflowers contained a ridiculous amount of blue. He stepped carefully around the hill, having no reason to climb it. He put the two Poppins into his own wooden box, and delicately re-stoppered the jar. There was barely any missing. This time he left the man five Poppins and five chicken pistules. Zuglah could tell that he needed a better suspension liquid.


    When he arrived at the tomb the next day, the Wizard was waiting for him.


    He was wearing his usual robes, but what had appeared purple from a distance he now saw was a combination of colors that changed iridescently. His hat was black, pointed and brimmed like a proper magician. His beard and hair were both immaculate white.


    Zuglah stopped dead in his tracks. This was the closest he had ever been to a wizard, and he was nervous. He knew that the man could have called lightning, even from a great distance, and burned him to a pile of ashes. He might not technically be any safer at range, but he was most definitely in less danger of saying something stupid that might anger the wizard and cause him to bring ruin upon him. Wizards were famously mercurial.


    But this man was anything but temperamental. Zuglah had been watching him bring team after team into this dungeon for weeks, all after some unknown item or purpose. He had shown patience, reserve, understanding and compassion. He had a habit of picking awful teams to party with, but he himself was the most competent person Zuglah had ever seen.


    ¡°Hello.¡± He was proud of himself for remembering his Common. He didn¡¯t even mean to speak it, it just came out.


    ¡°Greetings my young friend. My name is Caldwell. How did you enjoy the potion?¡±


    Zuglah slipped off his pack and placed it on the tomb in front of Caldwell. ¡°I am very sorry, sir. I completely misunderstood. For some reason I thought you left it for me. I didn¡¯t drink very much. Again, I¡¯m very sorry.¡± He had the small jar in his hand, holding it out in front of him. When he looked up, Caldwell had not moved. He placed it onto the tomb.


    ¡°I absolutely did mean for you to have that. And a poor recompense it is, I might add, for the ingredients you have given me these last couple of days. That is why I thought to offer you a deal.¡±


    ¡°A deal? What, you mean you want me to go into the dungeon with you? But I can¡¯t. I don¡¯t even have a trade. I¡­ I lost my clan. Maybe I never had one, who knows? Anyway, I should go.¡±


    ¡°What is your name, young man?¡±


    He looked up. ¡°Me? I¡¯m Zuglah Glun. I pick herbs for the Sheekie Hag.¡± He picked up the leather bag, thinking that the drawstring had been tied. But it had not. He should have grabbed it properly. But instead, he got it just high enough into the air that when the jar slipped out, it missed the tomb and fell onto hard stone.


    He looked at the jar of incredible magic, the most precious thing he had ever owned, smashed all over the ground.


    ¡°Oh dear,¡± the Wizard said mildly.

 Chapter Two: Hope Springs Eternal

    Chapter Two: Hope Springs Eternal


    When he arrived back at the cemetery the next day, Zuglah was somehow relieved, embarrassed and overjoyed all at once. Waiting on the tomb for him was an even smaller leather pouch. He stared at it without moving for a long time.


    He had been alone for as long as he could remember. Complex emotions were difficult for Zuglah Glun, and so he always tried to process them slowly. His last gift had been so wondrous, so unexpected that he had berated himself most bitterly for losing it. And now the wizard had left him something else. It wasn¡¯t as large as the pot had been, but it was frankly more than he deserved.


    He slowly approached, picked up the pouch, and peered inside. The contents took his breath away. Two small, luminescent vials awaited him. Each was no larger than his thumb, and both were square in shape. One glowed with a bluish haze, while the other was the kind of gold that was left behind on one¡¯s vision after a lightning strike. His hands trembled, and he lowered the vials back down onto the tomb, lest he drop them. There was a small note attached to each bottle, and an illustration.


    The bluish bottle had the word ¡°Leap,¡± inscribed upon the card, and this time the illustrated person leapt over not only the other man, but the inscribed ¡°Leap¡± as well. The card on the golden bottle oddly said, ¡°Live, Damn You!¡± and it had a picture of a person laying dead with x¡¯s over their eyes.


    He didn¡¯t want to even think about what that picture might imply. He was glad to have it, but he hoped he never needed it.


    The blue vial, on the other hand¡­ He examined the back of the note because he noticed that it was not blank. It indicated two drops only, and Zuglah was curious as to how he was supposed to measure such a small amount. The answer was in the stopper. The lid itself had a bulb that, when squeezed, would dispense a single drop at a time from the end of a glass tube. Zuglah could taste the chicken pistules, knew that they had somehow augmented this potion. According to the card, they seemed to have enhanced it significantly.


    There was only one way to find out.


    And so, in the name of research, Zuglah slipped two drops under his tongue and swallowed them. There was a hitch in his stomach, even though he hadn¡¯t noticeably swallowed anything. He leapt.


    On his first leap, he soared so high that his body slowly rotated, no matter how much he windmilled his arms. He landed on his back hard, bouncing and skidding to a halt, but felt nothing. It must be a perk of the potion. Made sense.


    He looked back and realized that he had jumped right over Ugly Tree Hill, big ugly tree and all. He was deep into the field of flowers. With two more jumps, he was on the other side of the field. Two more jumps, and he was on the verge of the Ardent Glen. He had finally figured out how to land on his feet. He turned around, worried about how far he had come. Without thinking, he tried to run.


    He bounded over the land. The wind whistled through his ears, and he streaked across the plains. Zuglah thought he could run hundreds of miles in an afternoon, with this. He turned back to the North, almost having a hard time finding his field of flowers. That is, until he jumped straight into the air as hard as he could. He spotted the Big Ugly Tree first, then his field with its mineral baths and wildflowers. He had to wait several seconds before he could leap again, but he did not mind at all. He was starting to enjoy falling from the sky.


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    He wondered if he might have to walk part of the way back, but this version of the potion was superior in more ways than one. He arrived back at his field of flowers, and leapt about from one end to the other with great enthusiasm. He was breathing hard and taking a break on the hill when it finally wore off. He felt it go with the same hitch in his stomach that had heralded its arrival.


    It was two more days before he saw Caldwell again. He had a small group of fighters with him, every one of them young and rich, judging from their armor. They had no cleric with them, choosing to rely on healing potions instead and strength of arms to see them through. They didn¡¯t even make it as far as the Spectre.


    After he had sent them home via portal, Caldwell shook his head. He looked up the hill, and saw Zuglah. There was no portal this time, he simply popped up in front of Zuglah with a gentle clap of air.


    Zuglah held out a paper package containing bacon, bread and cheese. ¡°Sandwich?¡± Caldwell smiled and sat down.


    After they were finished eating, Zuglah showed him how many herbs he had gathered. ¡°The Sheekie Hag is ripping me off, isn¡¯t she? On the chicken pistules?¡±


    Caldwell nodded. ¡°I didn¡¯t even know that she had any. And I would not have been able to afford them, if I had. This is the first place I have ever found where they grow.¡±


    Zuglah upended his chicken pistule sack, revealing that he had close to fifty. The wizard shook his head. ¡°This¡­ this is too many. I could not even use this many before they went bad. The five you gave me are enough to last for months. And if you tried to sell them, you would lower the price of them for a year or more. This is a fortune, in any big city.¡±


    ¡°So, what sort of partnership were you considering, then?¡±


    The kindly wizard looked at him, weighing Zuglah with his eyes. ¡°Well, the other day I was not proposing that you should enter the Stanish Crypt with me.¡±


    He shrugged uncomfortably. ¡°No, I know you we-¡±


    ¡°But I am now.¡± Zuglah¡¯s head snapped up, his embarrassment gone. The wizard was still smiling, but it was clear that he was serious. ¡°I am a senior member of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. Thus you have the pleasure of watching me escort rich kids and the spoiled brats of our senior members through a dungeon that honestly, I could have solo¡¯d when I was gyiol sazal. That¡¯s Elvish for ¡®the sixth tier.¡¯ I just want one decent student. So what do you think?¡±


    Zuglah stared at him for a long moment. He was processing feelings that he didn¡¯t understand again, and it made him nervous. He asked tentatively, ¡°You¡­ Are you saying that you will teach me how to make potions?¡± His heart was beating so fast. What had gotten into him? There was no way.


    ¡°No, of course not. You can¡¯t go into a dungeon with a couple of potions. Despite what the Intelligence Triplets might have been told.¡± Zuglah was finally able to breathe again. Of course not. But he could still get some more potions from- ¡°I¡¯m gonna make you a wizard.¡±


    He must not have heard correctly. The blood was pounding in his ears, and he was sweating profusely. He found himself walking around the top of the hill, looking for a breeze. It was so hot here.


    He turned to the old man. ¡°Why?¡±


    Caldwell shrugged. ¡°I was going to show you how to make potions, it is true. I had a thought that you could make more money that way. But you knew how to make money before we ever met.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Well, you said that you have no trade. I have but one trade to give.¡±


    One of the things that Zuglah admired about Caldwell was how serene he was. He never pressed Zuglah for an answer, he merely said his piece then waited for Zuglah to say his. Zuglah thought a while before he said, ¡°Thank you, Caldwell. I would like that very much.¡±


    The wizard beamed. ¡°Excellent.¡±

 Chapter Three: I Trip, You Trip

    Chapter Three: I Trip, You Trip,


    Caldwell knew three cantrips. He knew Blink, Radiance, and Shocking Grip. He said that he used to remember every single one, but the last time he used one was so long ago that he was amazed that he remembered any at all.


    Of the three, Blink was the one that interested Zuglah the most. He had no trouble seeing in darkness, so didn¡¯t get excited at all about the light spell. And the Shocking Grip might have been better without the electricity. That way he could use it for those hard-to-reach herbs. When he said these things to Caldwell, the man contemplated him for quite a while before he replied.


    ¡°You are a rare individual, Zuglah Glun. No matter what race I have encountered, when a person is offered power they seize it whatever the cost. But you, you see ultimate power as an opportunity to become a better herb picker.¡±


    Zuglah realized that this statement was actually very true. ¡°I don¡¯t want to smite anyone. I like what you said about making money from dungeons, and how there¡¯s a lot of rare ingredients in those places. What did you mean when you said that potions are more than just herbs?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes. Magical beings have magical properties. That is one thing that is strictly passed down from Alchemist to Alchemist. The second it is known for an effect, that species is hunted. Do you think that I have told anyone where your beautiful field full of flowers is? If I had, that field would be gone by now.¡±


    Zuglah would keep his mouth shut.


    They started with the cantrip Blink. Zuglah was just supposed to learn the theory on the first day, but when Caldwell demonstrated the spell, Zuglah was able to imitate him perfectly. Except nothing happened. Caldwell had vanished, and appeared ten feet away with the small clap that Zuglah recognized from before. But when Zuglah did it, nothing. ¡°Do that again,¡± Caldwell told him. He focused hard, and cast. Nothing.


    Zuglah was not surprised, but Caldwell was. ¡°You did the motions perfectly. I think you¡¯re a natural.¡±


    Zuglah was not as excited. ¡°Then why didn¡¯t it work?¡±


    ¡°Well, because you simply have not unlocked your mana yet, that¡¯s why. How can you cast something that is not even there?¡±


    Caldwell decided that now was as good a time as any. They sat on the grass, legs crossed and eyes closed. They used the sounds of the great oak tree above them to carry them away, Caldwell guiding his Troll student as he descended deeper and deeper into a trancelike state.


    Zuglah had no trouble following along. Caldwell had a voice that could drone peacefully, yet somehow keep one awake and seeking inwards. It was mesmerizing all on its own. He sank deeper and deeper. He was starting to think there might not be a bottom. And then he saw the Tarn.


    That was what it looked like. A huge reservoir of blue liquid stored deep beneath the heart and mind. He flowed over that body of water, somehow not able to touch it despite coming within a hair¡¯s breadth. He heard the words Caldwell was saying. He needed to stop flowing over the water. Stop flying. Stop.


    It was such a hard thing to do, but he did it. He had to let the water do the flowing. He hung, suspended above the water. He was not moving. The water was not moving. He waited, above the water. Above.


    He wasn¡¯t above the water, not in this place. There was no up or down, except in his mind. He was not moving because he chose not to move. He was not above the water, because he chose not to be above the water, but below it. He was below. It all came down at once.


    He felt the weight of all of it, pulverizing him as it washed over him. Then, he was just as suddenly floating in it, suspended. There was no breathing here, because there was no air, no need for it. In another place, his body breathed freely. Here he floated.


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    When he opened his eyes he felt at peace in a new way. In his heart of hearts he was full. He looked over at Caldwell and asked him, ¡°Can you please show me that cantrip again?¡± His voice sounded sleepy, or as though he had been drinking. Caldwell simply nodded.


    A large, flame-seared and frozen outline of the old wizard filled his entire vision. Caldwell snapped his fingers. ¡°Ding.¡± There was a flare, as an invisible black flame inscribed a summoner¡¯s star. Another snap. ¡°Dang.¡± Himself, placed inside the star. ¡°Doe.¡± Summoned.


    Zuglah snapped his fingers in a semi-circle in front of his face. ¡°Here we go. Ding Dang Doe.¡± And he blinked.


    This time he felt the clap instead of hearing it. He liked that a lot more.


    ¡°Zuglah Glun, that was outstanding. You actually cast a spell on your first try ever. You have no idea how rare that really is. And it was no flame lick, either. Tossed yourself right into the Void. Not many people go for it with such conviction on their first try. Well done.¡±


    He had done it. Not with a potion, not some effect or luck. Real magic had come from within his heart to do his bidding.


    With a great shout of joy, he leapt about. He snatched the hat right off of the wizard¡¯s head and flung it as far and as high as he could. The hat streaked away as though this was the moment it had always been waiting for. Zuglah blinked again, and caught it before it could land. He felt like he could leap the big ugly tree without a potion. He needed more.


    Radiance was easy and boring. A globe of light. But it did lead Caldwell to remember a fourth cantrip, Flame Lick, which was very similar. Only instead of a globe of light, it produced a tongue of flame. While not giving out as much light as the globe, the tongue could be used to ignite just about anything. And it could be thrown surprisingly far for something that had no weight.


    And then there was Shocking Grip.


    Deceptively simple, but Zuglah just could not get it. There wasn¡¯t even a word or a gesture. One simply sent a jolt of lightning down their arm, and at the right moment they touched something. But the timing was so subtle. The lightning and the object both had to touch the fingertip at the exact same moment. In ten attempts, he did not manage it once. In twenty. On his next attempt, he was so frustrated that he stuck his hand out to his teacher. ¡°Just show me.¡± Caldwell shrugged, and did as he was asked.


    Zuglah immediately fell to the ground, flopping around like a fish on a rock. As tough as trolls were, they had no natural immunity to lightning.


    This spell came down to timing and practice. Zuglah didn¡¯t think he would ever find anything he loved to do more than gleaning herbs, but he had not known about magic. What a revelation. He practiced constantly.


    He didn¡¯t walk anywhere. He blinked. He could spot a weed from ten feet away, and nail it with a tongue of flames without disturbing any of the flowers around it. He learned how to fix a globe of light to objects without Caldwell even teaching him. And he shocked.


    He tried to shock his sandwich when he picked it up. He shocked Caldwell¡¯s staff whenever he walked by it; the few times he was successful, it would generate a satisfying glow in the large white crystal at the top. Any time he was near water, he touched it. Water was an easy one to shock, so was anything metal. It just seemed to draw the lightning out almost as eagerly as the wizard¡¯s staff did.


    It was quite without thinking that he was out collecting a Poppin one day, and as he went to reach for it, he sent a gentle surge of lightning into his fingertips. Just a teeny tiny amount.


    Of course it exploded. Of course it did.


    A cloud of pollen came out of the pod like an Ifrit¡¯s first time out of its lamp in a thousand years. Zuglah blinked and gasped in surprise, inhaling a small amount of the pollen, which just happened to be on fire. No big deal, just flaming, magical pollen with unknown properties down the old esophagus.


    Thus began The Coughening. In years to come, this was how they would refer to it. Zuglah was immediately incapacitated with wracking coughs that went on and on. His stomach muscles were on fire, and he gasped for breath. Finally, he opened his eyes.


    He was hundreds of feet in the air, and just starting to come down.


    He felt like a drunk that had instantly been sobered. His eyes would not stop watering. The wind was so loud.


    A portal opened up beside him, keeping time with him as he fell. Caldwell was there, and he seriously and somberly passed Zuglah a carved wooden cup full of water. When Zuglah took it, the portal closed. It wasn¡¯t until he tried to drink the water that he realized that the old man had been having fun with him. He released the cup and blinked.

 Chapter Four: Heals and Pots

    Chapter Four: Heals and Pots


    The very next morning Zuglah arrived to find an enormous, round wooden and canvas tent set up under the tree. There was an awning, rugs and more than one long table. There was even a stone hearth. Caldwell waved him over.


    ¡°I know, it¡¯s a bit much. But just the bare essentials I promise.¡±


    It turned out that what he had brought was a fully functional laboratory. It seemed that Caldwell wanted to make some potions. When he told Zuglah his plan, the Troll began to get very excited. Caldwell was going to show him how to make Minor Healing Potions, and Minor Mana Pots. Then, they were going to process the chicken pistules into a liquid called Canary¡¯s Tears. This was the suspension liquid that Caldwell had used to turn jump into leap. They were going to use it to turn healing potions into regeneration potions. And they were going to turn those into something called platinum.


    It all sounded fantastical to Zuglah. He was chagrined to find out that there were many other magical plants in the field, only the Hag had not been interested in healing draughts or stoneskin. She only wanted the most habit-forming potions and tonics.


    The Mana Pots were not difficult to make, but time consuming. They prepared a large cauldron of the brew and set it upon the special cauldron spot cut out of the hearth. From there, it was a matter of not letting the fire go out for two days and nights. In the end, they were left with fifty two Mana Pots.


    Zuglah had no idea where the jars and vials and pots all came from exactly, except that they were from the tent. He would ask what container to use for this potion or that one, and Caldwell would absentmindedly say ¡°Oh, check that cabinet over there.¡± Or he would wave and mutter, ¡°Perhaps one of those chests.¡± Sure enough, one of those chests would have exactly fifty two empty, clean mana pots, just waiting to be used.


    They made strength potions and speed potions. Potions for intelligence, and resistance to poison. They also made poison. And when they were finished, the potions themselves went right back into those selfsame chests and cabinets. There were also places for the ingredients themselves to be stored, chests designed for drying and those for keeping moist. There were aquariums and terrariums, empty cages and even what seemed to be a makeshift corral. It was an ideal potion making operation.


    The next day, Caldwell took him to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild to sell some Mana Pots. It was never ¡°Mana Potions,¡± nor was it ever ¡°Healing Pots.¡± It seemed important to Caldwell that he not embarrass him, so Zuglah paid strict attention. ¡°Heals and Pots.¡±


    ¡°And never throw them anything stronger, either. These two potions will give anyone a significant advantage, it¡¯s not your job to provide more, it''s the Cleric¡¯s. Let them buy their own.¡± He left the ¡°Preferably from us,¡± part unsaid. He opened the portal.


    The Adventurer¡¯s guild was a large hall with many offices and meeting chambers on the ground floor, and higher up, the council. Caldwell entered something called the Procurement Office.


    As soon as he entered the room, Zuglah knew that he was about to meet a new creature. The entire room smelled like dry granite when the first rain drops struck. It was a unique, and quite pleasant odour. He inhaled, deeply.


    ¡°Caldwell, what¡¯s wrong with your troll? Oi, you! With the blue face. Smell something you like?¡±


    Zuglah smiled in amazement. ¡°I apologize. I¡¯ve never met a Dwarf before. You smell like a quarry.¡±


    The man seemed mollified, which was a good thing. He barely stood taller than Zuglah¡¯s waist, but he was built like a bull. He had massive shoulders and arms, and a chest that could hold a yard of sailcloth. ¡°That¡¯s the nicest thing anyone¡¯s said to me all week.¡± He stuck out his hand. Zuglah clasped it. His fingers were like stone.


    ¡°The name is Dunstan. I¡¯m the quartermaster of this particular chapter. Anything you need, I¡¯m the one to get it.¡± He had a ledger opened on his desk. He walked around to the other side of the desk and sat down. He put on a pair of brass framed spectacles, and looked at them expectantly.


    Caldwell produced a small ledger that Zuglah had seen him writing in. He opened it to a page and placed it on the desk. When he slid it closer to Dunstan, the Dwarf pinned it with a thick, stubby finger that looked like it could poke a hole in wood. He ran the finger down the list and whistled. ¡°How much of it can I have?¡±


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    Caldwell shrugged. ¡°All of it, unless my partner here objects.¡±


    Dunstan peered up at Zuglah from over the top of his glasses. ¡°Well, partner?¡± He asked. ¡°You got any objections to me taking this load off your hands?¡± Zuglah did not object in the least.


    They went into another door, and they were met with a tailor. He gave Zuglah a large package containing a number of tunics and doublets, some sets of small clothes, some boots and a pair of shoes. He had never owned shoes before. He had never had footwear that had been specifically made for large Trollish feet before, either. Now he had both.


    It turned out that ¡°all of it,¡± had amounted to twenty heals and twenty pots. It had been more than enough to cover all of the clothing that they purchased for Zuglah, as well as some camp supplies, alchemy ingredients and various odds and ends. There was still a significant credit on their account when they left. Which they did not do by portal.


    They stepped out of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild and into chaos. There were sounds everywhere, and no time to react to them before the next. The smells, both good and foul, were overwhelming. And the people. Hundreds of them. Everywhere he looked were more people. Some were huge, covered in thick brown hide and wearing horns as casually as he had ears. And a tail! He saw two cat people, covered head to toe in a fine fur. He saw his first High Elf and his first three Gnomes ever, both things he had been looking forward to. He wished he could talk to them all. He had so many questions.


    **********


    Caldwell stood aside, patiently waiting. He let Zuglah take it all in. He didn¡¯t tell him to stop staring, or to pick his jaw up. He followed behind his new student and let him wander about. The Adventurer¡¯s Guild was located in the heart of Bakerton¡¯s market district so it was a grand place to start.


    It was a little known fact that a Troll can last as long as several months without eating. Also true was the fact that they could eat as much as was available at any given time without getting full. Zuglah ate everything in sight.


    He overpaid everywhere and his enthusiasm was infectious. He had vendors chasing him down the bazaar with candied apples that he hadn¡¯t tried, or the perfect cup of brandy to wash down some dumpling or other savory delight. Truth be told, Caldwell would have felt a little jealous or perhaps left out because of all the attention Zuglah was getting, except that Zuglah always shared.


    It was fascinating to see how people responded to his genuine enthusiasm. He was a Troll, of all things, one of the most hated and feared peoples on the planet. But they shined on him.


    If you had told the two hundred year old Kaeet woman when she got to work this morning that she would be laughing and chasing a troll around the market with one of her fish sandwiches, she would have clawed your eyes out. Yet Caldwell had seen that and more. Her tail lashed when he left her stall for the last time.


    There was an almost festive air to his shopping, and all of the stall owners beamed at him.


    Zuglah Glun was finally able to tear himself away from the food vendors. He must have been quite hungry, but he never showed any signs. He was such a polite young Troll.


    Caldwell led the way now, moving back to his purpose for coming. He strode past pubs and taverns, smithy and stable alike. He sought a specialty shop on a side street and across a couple of alleys. Every time they crossed one of the foul-smelling service alleys, Zuglah would pinch his nose and make a noise. Trolls were fastidious creatures, he had learned.


    It was a specialty shop, small and dank. There were several bells attached to the front door due to the advanced age of the shopkeepers and the severe lack of business traffic. But commerce or not, it would always be here. It had been arranged.


    Even with the bells, Caldwell had to go into the back and wake Fender and Betsy. They had both fallen asleep! He waved a hand, smiling in satisfaction as a dozen lamps sprang into service. Zuglah was not the only one who had been practicing his cantrips lately.


    Fender surprised him by emerging first, carrying a tray with the tea. He set it down on the small sitting-room table, then took one of the two chairs for himself. ¡°Got yourself a student, do you Caldwell?¡± He took the other chair and poured tea for both of them. He would have poured one for Zuglah as well, but Fender hadn¡¯t brought enough cups.


    Zuglah was happy to meet Fender and his wife. Betsy had no trouble at all finding him a decent robe that would work for school. Caldwell and Betsy agreed that the black and green suited him best, because it had blue accents that matched his hair spectacularly.


    ¡°Now,¡± he said, yawning. He stretched as he said, ¡°Let¡¯s see something with a hood. Red bolts on the shoulders. Not black, midnight blue.¡±


    Betsy whistled. ¡°I¡¯m going to have to conjure that.¡±


    ¡°Mind you get the arms right. He¡¯s a Troll after all.¡±


    Betsy snorted. ¡°I hadn¡¯t noticed. I thought you were the last one.¡± She held Zuglah¡¯s arms out to the side and ran her wand across his frame. Without a word, she shuffled into the back.


    The Troll looked at him, suspicious. ¡°What are the fancy ones for?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see. I¡¯m not going to spoil the surprise.¡±


    If he thought that the Bakerton Market was a wonder, he was going to flop over and have a fit when he saw Taida Marr.

 Chapter Five: A Sea In The Sky

    Chapter Five: A Sea In The Sky


    Caldwell wanted him to wear his new robes and shoes, but Zuglah was worried about making a fool out of himself. He was nervous about the shoes, because he had been wearing them all day and he kept tripping. Caldwell encouraged him to keep practicing, although he did urge him to wear his green and blue robes, so he wouldn¡¯t get grass stains on his fancy ones.


    He was impatient to be off, so he settled on the simple expedient of a couple drops of Leap. He then spent the next hour bounding about the fields and meadows near to their tree. Sometimes he would blink from the apex of his leap, the distance he was able to see being ridiculous. Once, he blinked into the air and tried a soft landing, but it really hurt instead. He was still feeling the Leap, so that meant he was only immune to fall damage that he himself generated with leaping. Good to know.


    By the time the potion had worn off, he was ready to Caldwell¡¯s satisfaction. He changed into his nice robes. He wished he could don the boots as well. He carried an empty script at Caldwell¡¯s behest, but had not been allowed to carry any money. He supposed that he was ready.


    Caldwell was resplendent in a fur-trimmed grey and red set of robes. He wore no hat, and his staff was a slender walking stick that barely reached his shoulder. He was every inch the gentleman wizard.


    ¡°I am very happy to share this moment with you, Zuglah Glun.¡± He smiled. Zuglah would have needed a long time before he could articulate to Caldwell exactly how much his teachings had meant to him. He had a feeling that he didn¡¯t have that time, so he instead concentrated on what the man was saying.


    ¡°The Elves call it Taida Marr, the Upside Down Ocean. To us, it is the City of Wizards.¡± He raised his arm the way Zuglah had seen him do countless times. The portal that opened was larger and square, and it led to a fenced off area where portals seemed to be opening and closing all the time. Zuglah hurried through.


    A middle aged, portly human ushered them through the courtyard and out the other side. Zuglah followed as closely behind Caldwell as he could and still see as much as possible.


    The city seemed to be built to a whimsical standard. There were towers and spires and minarets everywhere. A plain square building would randomly have a tower climbing out the side of it, hanging over empty space on the side of a cliff, preferably.


    There was no Bazaar, because the entire city was one big bazaar. Shops were everywhere, and they all seemed to have some magical bearing. There were buildings filled entirely with glass instruments used in the making of alchemy. A nearly identical shop nearby, however, was dedicated to the study of the stars in the sky.


    Shops claimed to sell unstoppable magical weapons and invincible armor. There was more than one potion shop on every street, and it seemed to be the most popular type of business. That is, if one didn¡¯t count drinking. There were bars and pubs, restaurants and nightclubs. Strip bars, dens of ill repute and sometimes just guys walking around with a bottle selling shots of liquor. Wizards were a thirsty bunch.


    They were also diverse. The wizard class, having been invented by a Human, was mostly populated by them. The High Elves, and indeed Elves in general, tended towards megalomania anyway, so they were naturally drawn to it as well. But almost every race had embraced it to some degree. There were Halflings and the occasional Dwarf. The Gnomes were shockingly good at it. He saw more cat people and bull people, and tiny critters dressed better than he was and carrying tiny parcels. And he saw several Orcs, too. For some reason, the Orcs scared him more than anybody else. In fact, he could not think of anybody else that scared him, but Orcs sure did.


    The ones he saw were heavily muscled, and carried cudgels instead of staves. They had piercings all over their faces and tattoos on their bodies. And those were the wizards! He couldn¡¯t imagine seeing one in full armor swinging a sword at him. His stomach hurt just thinking about it.


    Caldwell had no more interest in the Orcs than he did. He quickly led them away down another alley. Thankfully, alley did not seem to mean urinal in this particular city. An improvement that Zuglah was entirely in support of. Finally they came to a large street with trees in the middle and large estates on either side. It was very tranquil here, very serene.


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    His teacher took him to one such estate. Of course, it was also a shop. Inside was the very definition of opulent. Everything was gilded. Even the wood smelled expensive.


    The person behind the desk had yellow hair that stood up straight in the middle, but over her ears it was shaved. She was a Half Elf. Wood Elf and Human. But also¡­ something more?


    ¡°Zuglah, this is Jaxa Windhaven. I¡¯ve known her for many years.¡±


    ¡°Hello, Zuglah. Whatcha smellin¡¯?¡± She smiled.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. He just started doing this.¡± Caldwell said.


    ¡°Is it Halfling?¡± Zuglah finally blurted out.


    Jaxa smiled at him. ¡°Wow, look at you. My grandfather was a Halfling, yeah.¡±


    Caldwell pulled him aside. ¡°Zuglah please stop smelling people. It¡¯s not polite.¡±


    ¡°Sorry Jaxa.¡±


    She leaned on the counter and winked. ¡°It¡¯s okay, honey. You can smell me. But he is right, though. Some people smell so bad that that big ol¡¯ honker of yours will fall right off.¡±


    It turned out to be a spell shop. They had every kind of spell available, all in scroll form. Just about anybody could execute a scroll¡¯s magic, but then that scroll would be used up. A wizard, however, could inscribe that spell into his own spell book and cast it as many times as he wanted.


    He stopped in front of a glass case and read a list of the spells. The list was marked Cantrips. He saw some spells that he definitely wanted to try. There was an Illusion spell, and Mending. Sleep and Mage Hand. He really wanted that one. Of course, there was Blast of Frost and Thunderclap too, but he was less interested in those. He went over to the counter to see what Caldwell was looking at.


    It was a spell book. More specifically, it was his new spell book. And it was stunning.


    It was not as thick as it first appeared, being only twelve lambskin pages. The back half of the spell book was in fact a wooden box containing a writing set. It was complete with sand, wax, a blotter and candle. The ink was stoppered tight and wrapped against spillage. In all, it looked expensive.


    On the counter beside the book were three scrolls; Dancing Mana, Mage Armor, and Detect Magic.


    ¡°How come you were looking at the Cantrips? Did you accidentally get a teacher who was too old to remember his Cants? We had to lock up all the Cantrips because all the old farts would just come in and read them. Refresh their memory. That¡¯s why I have this available for rent for one silver crown.¡± She pulled an old, tattered stack of scrolls onto the counter. They were loosely held together by a hole punched through the corner of each, with a piece of red yarn tying them all together. Caldwell sighed, and tossed her a coin. ¡°It¡¯s another, if you want to take notes.¡±


    He almost pulled another coin out, but instead asked, ¡°Can I dictate?¡±


    She answered without looking up from the ledger she was referencing. ¡°Not until you¡¯re done reading. Sorry.¡±


    Caldwell picked up the stack of pages and flipped through them very quickly. He handed them back to her, and gave Zuglah his quill and ink. He started writing as the wizard recalled.


    ¡°Sleep, Shocking Grasp, Mage Hand, Blast of Frost, Mending, Mage Hand.¡±


    ¡°You said that one already.¡±


    Caldwell raised his voice slightly, ¡°Illusion and Thunderclap.¡±


    ¡°Oh my god, that spell is so useless.¡± Caldwell, apparently tired of being spoken over top of, snapped his fingers. A booming peal of thunder shook the whole room.


    ¡°Always a pleasure, Jaxa.¡± They left the store via portal.


    When they were back at the big tent, Zuglah was suddenly overcome with the need for sleep. He carefully stored his new belongings in the extra storage room, and was looking forward to a solid night¡¯s sleep. Caldwell stopped him.


    ¡°You know, Zuglah. I didn¡¯t want to bring this up before, because you are clearly an independant type of person. But if you are going to be my apprentice, then you should consider doing so full time. Here.¡±


    He was cautious. ¡°You think I should sleep here?¡±


    ¡°Yes, absolutely. And when we¡¯re done with the crypt, you should come to the Guild Hall, too. Once we¡¯re fully on the road together, your talents will grow at speeds you will not believe. But first, the crypt until you learn these three. Then, it¡¯s off to school for a quick year.¡±


    This part was new. ¡°Off to a what for a year?¡±


    ¡°You are behind, Zuglah. You don¡¯t even know how to transcribe a spell into your book, or how to join a party. School will teach you all the things I¡¯ve overlooked. Trust me, it¡¯s like using chicken pistules on your wizard career.¡±


    ¡°Well, when you put it like that¡­¡±

 Chapter Six: Dude, Wheres My Mana?

    Chapter Six: Dude, Where¡¯s My Mana?


    Zuglah learned Blast of Frost and Sleep in a single day. He had wanted to learn Mending and Mage Hand also, but Caldwell insisted that it was time to learn some real magic.


    ¡°Mage Armour is no Cantrip. It was designed with battle in mind, with keeping swords away from your person. Now, Trolls are very tough, it is true. Nearly impossible to pierce your flesh without magical means, almost completely immune to non-magical fire and cold. With Mage Armour active, you might go a long time without taking any actual damage.¡±


    ¡°I like the sound of that. What do we do?¡±


    Caldwell introduced him to his spellbook. He removed the ink and quill from the back and unstoppered the ink. It was unlike any he had ever seen before, a river of golden diamonds set against a sea of black. The closest thing he could think of to compare it to was Canary¡¯s Tears, but more like the ¡°Live¡± potion. The one he tried not to think about.


    Magical ink.


    Transcribing a spell turned out to be an excellent way to memorize it. There was much less chance of forgetting any single element when he had spent a half hour drawing it out line by line.


    There were no words with a spell. The words he had used with the cantrips, the gestures and snaps, all served as guide markers for the expression of mana. They were quickly internalized and no longer necessary. A spell, however, required the visualization of the entire symbol. Mana was pictured as entering the first letter of the first word. This was ignition. It appeared to be instantaneous but it was all happening in sequence so swift it was like an explosion.


    He stood, reeling. Caldwell rushed over and took a hold of his elbow. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t stand up so fast. Did you feel it? Did it ring?¡±


    ¡°Like a bell.¡± He could not open his eyes for the vertigo. He felt around in front of him until he found his chair. Caldwell helped him to sit.


    ¡°That was quite a reaction. The first time is always the strongest. But I bet you have a pretty good look at Mage Armour when you close your eyes, don¡¯t you?¡± He was grinning ear to ear, his love of all things magical apparent in every line of his body. ¡°Try casting it.¡±


    He nodded. Simple. It was already clear as a crystal ball in the forefront of his mind¡¯s eye. It was simply a matter of adding mana. Nothing.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. It didn¡¯t even glow.¡± He tried again. Nothing.


    ¡°Unless¡­¡± Caldwell reached for his knife. He drew the long, slender poingard and held it delicately by the handle in two fingers. He tapped the blade against Zuglah¡¯s chest.


    It was stopped two inches short of reaching him. Caldwell¡¯s white eyebrows rose like they were on leap. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of this before.¡± His voice was quiet. Zuglah could tell that he wasn¡¯t as excited as he had been, he was disturbed. He asked his teacher what he meant. ¡°Well, it seems like you have cast a spell on paper. By writing it. I¡¯m still not sure how.¡±


    He could see the problem immediately. How on earth was he supposed to transcribe Fireball, if writing it down was going to cause his spellbook to explode? The problem was, he needed to activate his mana into the spell in order to sear it to the page. It was one of the properties of the ink.


    He tried it again with Detect Magic. As soon as he finished the Seal, his spellbook began to take on a blueish glow. Caldwell made a frustrated noise. ¡°Go change into your robes, my young friend. We need to sort this out.¡± Zuglah hurried away.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The portal took them to the top of a tower alone on a hill. It was a squat tower, barely ten stories above the ground, but it was wide. The room at the top was spacious, with a vaulted ceiling unlike no other. There was a massive tube jutting through the roof, and it eventually grew smaller and smaller until it terminated in the middle of the room in front of a large, overstuffed chair.


    Zuglah kept a respectful distance as Caldwell approached the two men gathered around the large green armchair with yellow flowers embroidered on it. His mentor produced his spellbook and showed it to them. Zuglah was vaguely startled to see that it was still pulsing with a blue aura. Why was it never the useful spells whose effects were long lasting?


    Caldwell gestured him over, and he came to meet the two old men. Their names were Gass and Parker, and they were brothers. They were both full Humans, and much older than Caldwell. The yellow and green chair was on wheels, and Gass turned it around so that his brother Parker could face Zuglah without rising. Zuglah guessed that the man was no longer capable of standing.


    His gaze, however, was still sharp. He took one look at Zuglah and turned back to Caldwell. ¡°Well there¡¯s your problem. He¡¯s a Troll.¡± Gass gave him an embarrassed smile.


    ¡°Sorry about that. He¡¯s old. I¡¯m sure he was just kidding.¡±


    But Parker wasn¡¯t sorry, and he wasn¡¯t kidding. He looked up at Zuglah. ¡°No, really. You¡¯re a Troll. Nothing wrong with it, just don¡¯t make very good wizards is all.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, but why exactly? Why don¡¯t we make good wizards?¡±


    Parker shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s a matter of mana, isn¡¯t it? Health isn¡¯t the only thing you fellows regenerate, you know. Mana too.¡±


    ¡°We do? Caldwell, did you know that?¡± His teacher shook his head. He was as surprised as Zuglah.


    ¡°The real problem, you see, is that Trolls have the ability to mana dump. Just look at the Detect Magic on that grimoire. Going to be glowing all week. Makes them wonderful upcasters. Terribly difficult to control. Can be done, though, if you want it badly enough.¡±


    Zuglah knew the answer to that immediately. He had never wanted anything more in his entire life. ¡°Please. Tell me.¡±


    ¡°Take for example the new spell that the kids are all crazy about. What was it again, Caldwell? The Sacred Projectile?¡±


    ¡°The Dancing Mana, Parker.¡±


    ¡°Of course. Back in my day, we would measure ourselves against Fireball. After all, it¡¯s what we¡¯re famous for. Couldn¡¯t wait to start throwing them around. But now it¡¯s all about ¡®how many missiles can you shoot? Ooh, twelve! Why, you must be very powerful indeed.¡¯ Never mind that I could melt your bloody castle walls down.¡±


    He was suggesting that Zuglah could practice controlling how many, or in his case how few, missiles he produced. And he just happened to know a certain white-haired Human who had purchased this spell recently. One problem, though.


    ¡°How do I write it down without blowing up my book?¡±


    Parker was nodding. ¡°There is a way, of course.¡±


    It hit him. ¡°I just have to dump all of my mana right before I complete the transcription. After all, I only need a drop for the seal.¡±


    Parker smiled approvingly. ¡°You have a very quick young student here, Caldwell. I look forward to seeing what you make of him. But write fast, young man. Trolls regenerate very quickly.¡±


    The brothers bade them stay for lunch, and before they left Gass came bustling up with a couple of scrolls in each hand. ¡°These are the only low level spells I could find. It¡¯s not much, but we certainly don¡¯t need them.¡± He couldn¡¯t believe his luck. The first scroll read ¡°Shield,¡± and  the second one ¡°Ice Blade.¡±  There was also ¡°Burning Hands,¡± and ¡°Identify.¡±


    Dumping all of his mana was not as simple as casting spells until he exhausted it all. He couldn¡¯t do it. He just could not mentally cast spells fast enough. So Caldwell guided him and he meditated. He visited the tarn.


    He floated within, and it floated within him. They were one and the same. It was so peaceful that he was tempted to savour the moment. But instead he imagined returning the mana out of his body, back into the tarn. Draining through the bottom of his feet. All of it.


    He opened his eyes. He tried to blink. Nothing.


    It worked. He was finally able to write Dancing Mana into his spellbook. When he asked Caldwell whether or not he ought to jot down the rest, he shook his head. ¡°Better not,¡± he said. ¡°You will end up memorizing at least one. I think that it would be best to limit the number of spells that you enter with. That way you aren¡¯t confused when the hills start a-howling.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. If I had known that, I might have chosen differently. I have a theory about the undead that I am looking forward to testing.¡±


    Caldwell was intrigued. ¡°A theory, you say? All right, then. In the pursuit of Truth, let us test out this theory of yours. You may choose one more spell.¡±


    He chose The Ice Blade.

 Chapter Seven: Staffing Problems

    Chapter Seven: Staffing Problems


    It was not long before Zuglah felt like he was completely in control of his mana. He could produce as many as five or as few as three bolts. No matter how he tried, he could not get less than three.


    The projectiles themselves were amazing. Tiny bullets of pure force that relentlessly tracked their target and detonated upon impact. When Caldwell tossed an apple through a portal, the missiles that were speeding towards it immediately changed direction, hurtling upwards into the sky to intercept the falling fruit. In moments, it was raining bits of apple.


    The Ice Blade worked even better than he had hoped. It was a razor sharp, iron hard chunk of ice about as long as two of his hands. It could bury itself in the trunk of a tree, and shred the trunk when it blew itself apart moments later. Zuglah felt awful about knocking down the tree, and felt relief that he hadn¡¯t mindlessly targeted the big ugly one.


    When it exploded, the knife did additional damage to anything else in the vicinity, as well as making it difficult to walk. He had been thinking about using the cantrip Blast of Frost, but that spell didn¡¯t really cause any damage, it simply slowed things down to a crawl.


    He wore Mage Armour at all times. Sometimes he would look down and see twigs and bugs caught in the energy field. It was amazing what one could get used to.


    He experimented with Illusion constantly. The largest thing that he could make was a wolf about three feet tall, but he could fashion it the same width as well. He could make the wolf run and jump, but not bark. It seemed that sound was a different kind of illusion.


    Caldwell gifted him a potions belt made for dungeon crawling. It was actually slung across one shoulder, and had room for easy access potions as well as pouches and pockets in which to store any herbs he might glean along the way. He loaded it with Heals and Pots, and wore it always.


    ¡°Do you think I¡¯m ready?¡± Caldwell paused in his eating. He nodded slowly. After supper, he brought Zuglah to a door marked ¡°Broom Closet.¡±


    ¡°I am not a big believer in wands. They seem ostentatious, and often provide almost no added benefits to your casting.¡± He opened the closet door. ¡°But a good staff, however, can make all the difference.¡± He had a dozen staves. Some were ornate, like the one with the clear crystal at the top. It turned out that it didn¡¯t have any special properties, Caldwell just liked the extra light. There were other begemmed staves, as well as crooked, eldritch wood models and thick, pedestrian looking oak staves that were as thick as a rowboat¡¯s oar.


    Zuglah was drawn to the deeper part of the closet, where a sleek, dark-wood staff rested leaning in a corner. He liked the deep, cherry-red color. He traced a finger along the high polish and heard a whispered, ¡°Not that one.¡± He moved down the line. The next one was walnut. ¡°Keep going.¡± He almost laughed at Caldwell, until he realized that the old wizard was not in the Broom Closet with him. What was going on?


    He examined the staves in the back with him. He decided that the voice must be coming from a black wooden staff with black metal end caps and another black band of iron every foot and a half along its length. When he touched it, he heard it whisper, ¡°Yesss.¡±


    When he brought it out of the closet, Caldwell¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°What have you got there?¡±


    Zuglah held the staff out in front of him horizontally. The wood, the metal, everything was a flat black that absorbed the light. It was carved all over with runes. ¡°It was at the back. Can I use this one?¡±


    Caldwell shrugged. ¡°I have honestly never seen that staff before in my life. If you want it, keep it.¡± He did want it. Very much.


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    They had a large, hearty breakfast, then set off for the cemetery at the bottom of the hill. Although he had seen it happen many times, Zuglah still did not know exactly how to open the crypt. It turned out that they just had to knock.


    The crypt¡¯s tomb slid aside to reveal a staircase down into darkness. The webs lining the way were as thick as sheets. Torches flared to life, and somewhere in the middle distance the sound of an iron door closing and locking. Like a jail cell, or a dungeon.


    His quarterstaff spoke up. ¡°There are almost a dozen undead down there. Very weak, too. Let¡¯s smash them.¡± Caldwell jumped.


    ¡°Zuglah, who said that?¡±


    He held out his staff. ¡°He did. It? He. My staff.¡±


    ¡°I have a name, you know.¡± His name was Redda Mo.


    Redda Mo was a sapient quarterstaff from the Egat Era of the Linwood High Elves. It seemed that they created a lot of sentient beings in those days, from table lamps to courtyard fountains, and then abandoned them when they got bored.


    Redda Mo had been one such item, born into a family of warrior monks who had a great disdain for bladed weapons. They had all died in the Second Dwarven Rebellion. So he had moved around some, been traded here and there, and one day had found his way into the closet. He had been taking advantage of the tent¡¯s interdimensional properties to evade capture ever since. ¡°But I got bored,¡± he admitted. ¡°I thought you seemed like a good lad, well-adjusted, no weird knife phobias or anything. So I said to myself ¡®What the hell, Redda Mo? Let¡¯s give the kid a shot.¡±


    If he had anything else to add, it was going to have to wait. There was a deep, low grinding noise coming up the dusty stairs. The tomb was opening.


    He looked towards Caldwell. ¡°Did you do that?¡± He shook his white-haired head and shrugged. ¡°So who did?¡±


    At the bottom, the door was indeed open. The floor was a wide corridor made of flagstones ten feet to a side. The walls continued to provide torches lit by some unknown person. Zuglah had seen the inside of these crypts many times, but never like this. He had witnessed these tombs rebuff full parties, men and women with fancy sets of armour and powered up weapons. And none of them had been a complete beginner!


    The first challenge was just up ahead. In another twenty feet or so, there would be an old half broken door with a rusty lock. Behind that door was a big, dust-laden storage room containing three skeletons; two archers and a swordsman. The swordsman would charge him as soon as he detected any kind of a threat, and the archers would pluck away from a distance, turning him into a pincushion.


    ¡°Redda Mo.¡± Zuglah stopped creeping towards the undead. Apparently, Caldwell chose that moment to have a conversation with his stick. He turned to accommodate them, lest they be forced to yell.


    ¡°Yes, wizard Caldwell?¡± The stick replied.


    ¡°This is Zuglah¡¯s first time in a dungeon. Let us see what he can do on his own. Without our advice.¡± This surprised him, because Caldwell knew that he had seen this whole crypt being run for weeks before they had spoken. He knew exactly how many mobs awaited them behind any given door.


    ¡°Oh, I agree wholeheartedly. Let¡¯s see whatcha got, kid!¡±


    ¡°You guys are being so loud.¡± He crept past the door, to the end of the hallway. There would be the stone bridge, on the right. He saw it, right where it was supposed to be. Except, next to it was a door. He looked to Caldwell in puzzlement. Caldwell too was stumped.


    But it wasn¡¯t Caldwell¡¯s decision.


    He had been planning on fighting the three skeletons in this corridor, one at a time if possible, because the ample room would allow him to fight at range. But he had no idea what might be behind that door. Whatever it was, he sincerely doubted that it would hear a bunch of fighting, come out to see what all the fuss was about, then take his side.


    He would have to fight the skeletons in their lair. He was glad he had gone up the corridor to check.


    ¡°Redda Mo, you said that you were built by monks? Does that mean you¡¯re more designed for bashing stuff than channeling magic?¡± His voice was too loud in his own ears. Redda Mo didn¡¯t even try to whisper.


    ¡°Oh, I can cast a spell with the best of them. But yes, if you want to break a bunch of stuff I¡¯m the staff for you.¡±


    ¡°Well okay then. Let¡¯s see whatcha got, stick.¡± He reached for the door and pulled. It swung open easily, being unlocked now for some reason. Things were subtly different this time.


    He was just about to blink into the archers, but hesitated because there were no archers. No archers, and no swordsman. No skeletons of any kind.


    Just two big, floating Spectres, occupying most of the room and looking disgruntled. The smell of mold and decay was overwhelming.


    Okay, so maybe there were a few surprises.

 Chapter Eight: Instance Oatmeal

    Chapter Eight: Instance Oatmeal


    Initially, Caldwell thought that this adventure was going to be over before it got started. He had several vials of Live, Damn You! secured about his person, but that didn¡¯t stop him from worrying about his student. He should have been worried about the Spectres.


    As soon as he realized that he was fighting two Spectres, Zuglah attacked. He cast a barrage of Dancing Mana that looked to have been seven or possibly eight. Caldwell hadn¡¯t counted, because before the last bullet hit, Zuglah blinked himself behind the two Spectres. He spun Redda Mo high above his head in an arc, and brought him crashing down into the cowl of the already staggered undead. He blinked back to stand in front of Caldwell, Blast of Frost slowing both of the enraged Spectres to an angry crawl.


    ¡°Did you see that?¡± He asked excitedly.


    Then, The Ice Blade exploded. When had he even cast that? The first Spectre howled and died. The second one crawled towards them for another second, then tried to cover its head with its arms. Zuglah turned. The new Dancing Mana swarm was only three projectiles, but they staggered the creature beautifully.


    When Zuglah rushed forward, quarterstaff raised, the Spectre broke free of the encumbering frost and came to meet him. They swung at each other like savages.


    This was the first time Caldwell saw Zuglah¡¯s Trollish blood boil to the surface. When the Spectre hissed and swiped at him with its claws, he growled and raked it with claws of his own. Had it been mortal flesh, that creature probably would have run for its life.


    Instead, it stood there and clawed ineffectually against the Mage¡¯s Armour as Zuglah and Redda Mo pummeled it until it faded away.


    Zuglah was breathing hard, grinning ear to ear. He trotted towards Caldwell.


    When he got closer, Caldwell was startled to see gashes across Zuglah¡¯s cheek and down his neck and chest. His new robes would need a mending as well, being torn and bloody. He had taken more of a beating than Caldwell had realized, but he could see that the cuts were already closing and the bleeding had stopped. Must be nice.


    ¡°How do I tell how much mana I have left?¡± Caldwell explained that as his meditation grew deeper, he would soon be able to visualize his tarn in real time. For now, he would need to meditate.


    ¡°Nah, maybe later. Parker said that it regenerated fast.¡± He was just about to leave, when Caldwell stopped him.


    ¡°You¡¯ve forgotten the best part about dungeon crawling. The loot.¡± He laughed when Zuglah¡¯s eyes went wide. The Troll searched both of the ephemeral bodies, patting down the thin, moth-eaten robes and finding nothing. ¡°Yes, Spectres have incredibly rare loot. Even skeletons are better, because they usually carry weapons. But look.¡± He held up the creature¡¯s hand, indicating the claws. ¡°The Alchemy ingredients found in dungeons are more rare and valuable than anywhere else in the world. These can be used in several different potions.¡±


    Zuglah looked at the creature with distaste. ¡°Eew. I think I¡¯ll pass.¡±


    ¡°There is another option, you know. I am a member of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. Now I¡¯m not saying that you should become a member, but they do provide some nice options. Portable Holes, Bag of Holding, etc. Throw everything in there, weapons, armour, bodies. They will process anything valuable for you, and take a percentage of your gold. If you want, I can lend you one of my accounts for now.¡± Zuglah agreed. He opened his pack and retrieved two items that he had known he would probably need.


    ¡°Okay. We have the Portable Hole and the Bag of Holding. With the Hole, you throw stuff in there and you never see it again. All you will ever find waiting for you are your gold and magic items. With the Bag, you carry it all around with you until you reach the Guild. So you can control how much or little you give them more easily. And search the bodies yourself, if you should so desire.¡±


    Even with the larger cut, he knew which choice Zuglah would make. He chose the Hole. ¡°Okay, let me show you a perk of your choice. I call it, ¡®the easy way.¡¯¡± Caldwell unrolled the Hole and casually tossed it onto one of the Spectres. It trembled, then quivered, then it began pouring itself into the portable hole as though it were made of sand. It went faster and faster, until with a gentle ¡®pop,¡¯ it was gone. The Hole fell to the stone, and flickered open.


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    He explained how to pick up the Portable Hole, and how to carry it around without falling into it. Then, he explained what to do if he should fall into it. He would not be the first person to panic and do something stupid.


    The High Elves called their night vision Ultravision. It didn¡¯t have any limit to range, and they could even see all of the colors. Trolls and, of all things, Goblins were the only other beings who possessed Ultravision. Thus, Zuglah was able to see the four Death Totems growing in the corner. The Totems were mushrooms that only grew in the presence of Undead lairs. They were a potent cure for paralysis, as well as one of the ingredients needed for Speak To Yourself, a potion that was confusing and complicated, to say the least.


    Caldwell was dying to know what was behind the new door. He was so tempted to run over and just have a quick peek, but no. He stuck to Zuglah. This was his Instance, after all.


    But the Spectres had been a surprise already, and so had Zuglah¡¯s handling of them. That hadn¡¯t been an attack, that was a one man assault. He was convinced that the Troll could have conjured one more Ice Blade, but instead he had chosen to go hand to hand, literally. Not a choice many wizards were inclined to make.


    Back in the big corridor, Caldwell was once again forced to be patient. Zuglah was in herb picking mode now, and before he would move on he needed to check every corner on his hands and knees. He found two more Totems, and a patch of lichen that he wrapped in cheesecloth before putting away. He called it The Widow¡¯s Diadem, and he was trembling when he wrapped it. ¡°There¡¯s enough for two.¡±


    ¡°Not three?¡± Redda Mo asked. ¡°Just kidding, you guys have fun.¡±


    Then they came to the door.


    Caldwell had been through these tunnels hundreds of times. The Guild made a handsome sum off of the hopes and dreams of the children who just wanted to be twice the hero their parents were but for half the effort. Or no effort at all would be even better. But there had been no clue that there was an instance here. Had Zuglah set it off? Had Redda Mo?


    ¡°Hey Redda Mo? Are there undead behind this door?¡± Zuglah asked. Caldwell was surprised that he hadn¡¯t thought to ask that.


    ¡°How should I know?¡± The quarterstaff replied.


    ¡°I thought you could detect undead. Because of what you said outside the crypt.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that.¡± Redda Mo laughed. ¡°I just felt super awkward, and I figured that was a better place to have the ¡®Oh my word, is that a talking quarterstaff? He¡¯s so handsome!¡¯ conversation than, say, here. Now.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Zuglah tried the door. Locked. ¡°It¡¯s locked.¡± He looked at Caldwell. He could feel the quarterstaff looking at him too.


    ¡°Fine. Here.¡± He touched a finger to the keyhole. He chanted. The bolt shot back, loudly. Zuglah gave a start, and pulled the door open quickly. He did not retain the element of surprise.


    The room was large, spacious and well-lit. There was a fireplace that warmed the place nicely.  And there was a centaur in the room. Caldwell wondered if he was hallucinating.


    He had a deep brown coat on his flanks and a bronze hue to his skin from years of running across plains. His face was weather-worn and his hair was long and braided. He had a harness across his shoulders that supported the great glaive on his back. And he had a wagon.


    The wagon looked ancient, and clever. Caldwell would have wagered large sums of money that it had been built by Gnomes, probably for this man¡¯s own ancestors. Or, perhaps for this very centaur, depending on how long he had been stuck in this Instance. The wood was blonde and green, the wheels rubber and bone. The roof was tiled, and the side of the wagon facing the wall, the side that was inaccessible because of the wall, appeared to be a drop-down campsite.


    But this side of the wagon was all shop.


    The centaur¡¯s name was Ulbarth, and he was a Red Roan Plains Centaur from The Dreadlands. He told them that he had had a good feeling about this crypt, having set up shop here only a couple of short hours ago, and here they were! Zuglah shot him a look, but he didn¡¯t need a Troll¡¯s sensitive beak to smell something fishy.


    Ulbarth needed a favour, it turned out. Caldwell couldn¡¯t say he was shocked.


    ¡°The Stanish Sigil,¡± the centaur pronounced. ¡°It is buried with him, in his tomb. But as you can see, I cannot manage the stone bridge up ahead.¡±  That much was certain. Although not slippery exactly, the stone was less than two spans wide. The centaur¡¯s rump was at least three spans across.


    ¡°I have a special boon for whoever can bring me this crest. I will allow you to choose your reward from among my three best items. Now, come and peruse my wares.¡± He swept his arm wide, and moved his horse-like body out of the way. Caldwell stood well back, out of Identify range so he would not be tempted to interfere in any way. These items were for Zuglah alone.


    He had potions, scrolls, an enchanted crossbow that could hit two targets at once, a ring that appeared to be made of yellow yarn all twisted into a circle, but when Zuglah picked it up, it was stiff and hard. And he had a wizard¡¯s hat. It was black silk, midnight blue stars and moons subtly strewn about the peak while the same dark blue piping served as the trim. Caldwell simply had to have it. Why must he always be so damned ethical?


    The three items he was offering to trade for the Sigil were, as he stated, exceptional quality. There was a Tiger¡¯s Fang Necklace that would make the wearer immune to Sleep, Charm, Fear and Confusion spells. The Dwarven Frost Dagger would not only imbue one¡¯s opponent with frost damage, wearing it would also enhance any and all cold spells. It was, like all Dwarven weapons, starkly beautiful. The third item was underwhelming, to say the least. It appeared to be a bit of red ribbon with a knot of berries and a sprig of wild grass knotted through it. Caldwell could detect no magic. It appeared inert.


    Zuglah was going to love that dagger, he was sure of it.

 Chapter Nine: Shadows In The Knight

    Chapter Nine: Shadows In The Knight


    Zuglah Glun could not stop thinking about his new dagger. That was how he thought of it. Already his.


    Ulbarth had two potions that he had never seen before, Vigorous Day and Hasty Decisions. They both sounded very helpful when Caldwell explained them to him, but Zuglah was still enamored with that dagger so he bought nothing. Besides, if Caldwell thought that he needed more potions, he would have made sure that he had them.


    When they left the room, there was a very loud click as the door locked behind them. They rounded the corner, and peered through the stone archway. Across the narrow granite bridge was the platform. It was two hundred feet across and walled in by darkness all around. A single brazier was erected on a freestanding tripod, the gently glowing coals giving off almost no light. He wondered how Caldwell was faring. He didn¡¯t have his jewel lit at all.


    ¡°The Spectre¡¯s gone.¡± He waved them back, and everyone retreated into the huge corridor. He looked at Caldwell. ¡°There¡¯s three guys there. They smelled Human. They have armor and swords.¡± He took a deep breath, unsure about this next part. ¡°You still have that Live on you?¡±


    Looking surprised, Caldwell patted his breast. Presumably there was a vial in his doublet pocket, under his robes. He was wearing the purple ones today. ¡°Of course,¡± was all he said.


    ¡°Good. I take it that if I¡­¡± He made a gesture, a knife across the throat, eyes crossed. ¡°That can bring me back?¡± His mentor nodded. ¡°Okay then. If things go badly here¡­ let them go bad. I need to know sooner or later, right? Plus, we¡¯re here to see so let¡¯s see.¡± Caldwell didn¡¯t exactly look convinced, but he nodded.


    The length of the bridge was about twenty yards, perhaps a little more. The range on Dancing Mana and Ice Blade was eighteen. Blast of Frost was twelve. The three knights were perhaps fifteen yards from the foot of the stone bridge. He readied The Ice Blade but did not draw it, and crept forward.


    It was clear that none of the three could see in the dark, because of the way they huddled around the brazier and craned their necks at every little sound. Zuglah stole to the foot of the stone bridge. He just knew he could get closer. He couldn¡¯t resist. Redda Mo felt eager.


    He made it to within five feet of them when all the lights came on.


    All around the walls, torches sprang to life.It was not just this crudely carved-out stone cavern but also in the rooms ahead and behind. The man facing towards him pointed and yelled ¡°Troll!¡± Zuglah thought that was a little rude.


    One of the peculiarities of The Ice Blade was its speed. It was fast and it was slow. It was slow in that it took a long time to detonate and cause damage. Additional damage, because it couldn¡¯t be pleasant to have a shard of ice that size inside you for any reason, much less that it had stabbed you. And slow because of the travel time. Dancing Mana bolts were a lot faster. But it was also quick to cast. Instant, even.


    He used Redda Mo to bat the brazier towards the yeller, and stabbed the ones on the left and right with an Ice Blade each. Then he blinked.


    He aimed for the crest of the stone bridge and had to wait. A moment later the first man reached the foot of the bridge, and Zuglah hit him with Blast of Frost. He just had time for an angry glare when The Ice Blade in his guts detonated, and so did the one behind him.


    His arm and both legs were stuck to the stones, but that didn¡¯t stop him from doubling over and clutching his stomach. When he looked up again, there was blood coming from the corner of his mouth, and running down his nose.


    His eyes and his mouth flashed white and orange, as though someone had lit a bright candle in his throat, and he surged to his feet. ¡°Hit him again, Zuggy!¡± Redda Mo screamed.


    He complied. The man held his sword in front of himself in both hands. His Dancing Mana swooped in under both elbows and caught him, one after another, full in the chest. He died before the final explosion.


    The one who leapt over his corpse slashed with his sword and somehow blocked Blast of Frost. With a bloodthirsty snarl on his face, he ran up the ramp with his colleague hot on his heels. He attacked three times in quick succession, a combination that he obviously practiced a lot.


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    Only Redda Mo was not having any of it. ¡°What was that?¡± He laughed, as he knocked away the first attack. ¡°Oh come on.¡± Was his reaction to the second. And for the big finishing move, the overhand chop, he simply said, ¡°No.¡± And he whirled in Zuglah¡¯s hands as he knocked the sword away. The man lost his grip, and the weapon spun off into the darkness. He looked up in chagrin, which seemed to turn into genuine hurt, when Redda Mo started laughing.


    Zuglah stuck two Ice Blades in him, then shoved him backwards, hard. He staggered into the last man of the bunch, who had no choice but to thrust him off of the bridge into the abyss below. He fell cursing.


    The last man was more cautious, determined not to rush things. His friends had underestimated this lone Troll, and it had cost them dearly.


    Zuglah blinked to the middle of the island. The knight took a second, then came running. This time his Blast of Frost had full effect. Instead of trying to push through, however, he raised his hand and cast a spell of his own. A translucent beam of nothingness connected the pair, and Zuglah felt his strength ebbing away. The knight looked visibly stronger, and broke apart the frost that was slowing him. He charged.


    Zuglah needed both hands just to keep a hold of Redda Mo. He was in danger of buckling over, and couldn¡¯t think of casting a spell. During a parry, Redda Mo clipped the man in the side of the helmet, and Zuglah instantly began to feel better. He could move his arms and legs freely again, and after a couple of deep breaths, he blinked.


    As soon as he arrived at the foot of the stone bridge he launched Dancing Mana. He put everything he had left into it, and for ten full seconds the man was pummeled over and over with exploding blue pellets. Zuglah was never more relieved in his life as when he saw the man drop dead.


    He was tired, but unhurt. By the time Caldwell arrived, he knew he could cast blink again if he wanted to. He definitely didn¡¯t want to. He was so exhausted.


    ¡°How?¡± Caldwell demanded when he arrived. ¡°How is it possible that you¡¯ve improved already?¡± Zuglah gazed up at him.


    ¡°What are you talking about? I literally just did the same thing as I did in my first fight.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± agreed Redda Mo. ¡°Kicked everybody¡¯s asses.¡±


    ¡°Look at you, there¡¯s not a scratch on you. Did any of them even hit you?¡± Caldwell marveled.


    Zuglah laughed. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯d be dead right now if it wasn¡¯t for Redda Mo.¡±


    ¡°Nah,¡± the quarterstaff objected. ¡°I told you, knives are my department. The rest was all you.¡±


    Caldwell told him, ¡°It is traditional to take a short rest, after a significant battle. Have a bite to eat, dress wounds. After you loot, of course.¡±


    Zuglah grinned. ¡°Of course. Only, this time let¡¯s do it after we rest. If I remember correctly, there are still creatures over there, and over there. The ghouls and skeletons, remember? I would feel better clearing the room before we get distracted with all of the yummy mushrooms.¡±


    Caldwell could find no fault with his reasoning. Zuglah collected the brazier and gathered what coals he could together. He lit them and put them on the floor where they sat. It helped cut the damp and the cold of the crypt.


    In a couple of minutes, Zuglah¡¯s curiosity got the better of him. He searched out the southern alcove where the ghouls had been and found nothing. He went quietly to the northern recess, but again, no skeletons. He turned to Caldwell. ¡°I guess we¡¯re clear to loot.¡±


    Caldwell looked sheepish, but he summoned the body of the man who had fallen off of the bridge. He told Zuglah that it didn¡¯t count as help, because Zuglah had defeated him fair and square. He just thought that he deserved to see what the man had in his pockets.


    Zuglah suspected that Caldwell really wanted to see what the man had, but thought it wiser to keep that to himself. He followed along, doing what Caldwell did. He emptied pockets and pouch directly onto the man¡¯s chest, then cast Detect Magic over everything. He found a ring that throbbed an angry red colour, and Caldwell came up with a dagger that pulsed green. They grinned at each other like fools, and ran to loot the third body together. That man had boots that peppered blue like raindrops.


    ¡°Ah! Sea Striders. One size fits all. These are fun.¡± He tossed the boots to Zuglah.


    He had finally gotten his first pair of new boots, and now he had two. And these ones were magical. He tried them on right away. They fit perfectly.


    When he showed Caldwell the ring, he said that the red meant it augmented his fire spells, or gave protection against fire. It depended on how it had pulsed. When Zuglah showed him, he said that it was protection. Zuglah shrugged and put it on. He was already resistant to fire, but more couldn¡¯t hurt.


    He inquired about the dagger, having seen it glowing green. ¡°Poison?¡± he guessed.


    ¡°Among other things, yes. But this one is different. Instead of buffs or resistances, it imparts an ability. This one is brambles.¡± Zuglah whistled. Brambles were no joke. He had once seen a bull rampage for ten full minutes without getting any closer to freeing himself.


    They also found a half dozen Totems and a red and yellow centipede that was as long as Caldwell¡¯s arm. When Zuglah asked if he was going to eat it, he laughed and said not until it had been properly brewed.


    Zuglah was ready to go. The short rest, the bit of meat and cheese, had done wonders for his fatigue. He felt good. Strong. Wait a minute, he felt too strong.


    He could not stop breathing hard, but he wasn¡¯t winded. In fact, it was the opposite. He needed to run. His arms kept flexing, they wanted to pick up something heavy and throw it. He wanted to let loose a barrage of Dancing Mana that never ended, like the one he had used against that guy. He felt like he was hyperventilating. ¡°Something¡¯s not right,¡± he told Caldwell.


    The old adventurer was smiling and nodding. ¡°I suspected as much. After a big scrap like that it can often take a short rest before you notice it. Better than, say, in the middle of your next encounter.¡±


    ¡°Notice what, Caldwell? Please, tell me what¡¯s happening.¡±


    He feigned surprise. ¡°You mean you haven¡¯t guessed it? Why, it¡¯s nothing short of youn sazal, the second tier. Congratulations, Zuglah. You are now an Ascended Being.¡±

 Chapter Ten: How Do You Say "Ding!" In Troll

    Chapter Ten: How Do You Say ¡°Ding!¡± In Troll?


    Zuglah was beside himself. A month ago he had been picking flowers for a swamp hag, living in a den that he had dug out with his own claws like an animal. Now, he was an ascended wizard. Not just a wizard. Transcended.


    Caldwell explained that normally he would have meditated during the short rest in order to take advantage of his expanded abilities, but since he wanted Zuglah to experience it organically, he let him discover it on his own. So it turned out he was not quite ready to move on.


    His mentor added, ¡°You should be able to handle another spell, too.¡± He told Caldwell that it was a shame that he hadn¡¯t brought any scrolls with him, but then again it wasn¡¯t like he could sit down in the middle of a dungeon and transcribe new spells.


    ¡°You would hardly be the first,¡± Caldwell told him bemusedly. ¡°What spell was it you were yearning for? Burning Hands? Shield?¡±


    ¡°Nah, those can wait. The one that looks useful to me? Identify.¡±


    Caldwell pulled a scroll from inside his sleeve. Identify. ¡°Our secret weapon. And Redda Mo, if you ever reveal what I¡¯m about to tell you, I will personally feed you through a lumber mill.¡±


    ¡°Hey, no need for threats, you old curmudgeon. I¡¯m with you guys! Team Zap Captain all the way!¡±


    Zuglah quickly wrote the new spell into his book. This made four now. Caldwell explained to him how the spell worked.


    ¡°I am older than even that runestick you carry, and I still use Identify twenty times a day. This morning I couldn¡¯t remember if I put sugar in my tea already, for example. I mean, do you really think I can tell the difference between one glowing blue dagger and a green one?¡± He laughed at the look of astonishment on Zuglah¡¯s face. ¡°It sounded realistic though, didn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°That seems dishonest,¡± Redda Mo muttered. He sounded like he still resented the lumber mill threat, but didn¡¯t know how seriously to take it.


    The trick, it turned out, was to attach it to some surreptitious gesture that nobody would even notice. He felt a little lost, and didn¡¯t want to get stuck with something that he would regret, so he asked for advice.


    ¡°Tongue tap,¡± Caldwell said immediately. ¡°It is what most of us use. Pick a tooth that you almost never visit, tap it twice with your tongue to cast. The finger squeeze is another good one.¡± He held up his index finger and thumb together and squeezed. ¡°Do you know that clicking sound inside your ear? That you make by flexing the back of your tongue?¡±


    Zuglah¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Yes¡­?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t use that.¡±


    He went with the tooth thing.


    He drew his new dagger. Yep, sure enough. Bramblethorn. +1 dagger, conjure brambles once per short rest.


    ¡°Do wizards ever cast Identify on each other?¡± Caldwell shrugged.


    ¡°It happens. It¡¯s considered extremely rude, but ¡®we learn our manners on the battlefield,¡¯  as the saying goes.¡± Caldwell permitted him to cast Detect Magic upon him, arms spread wide. He lit up with more colors than a field of flowers.


    ¡°Hey, you¡¯ve got Ultravision!¡±


    Caldwell looked down at the Onyx ring on his right hand. ¡°Yes indeed. That¡¯s good stuff.¡±


    He explained that Zuglah was actually wearing more items than was technically good for him, but that he seemed to be handling it okay. The more powerful one became, the more items and status effects, buffs and potions one could maintain without turning into a cackling madman. Zuglah reminded himself to not get greedy.


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    Normally, the platform they were currently occupying was just a large earthen floor that had led to an antechamber. But this floor was paved in flagstone, and the doorway leading to the alcove had lamps burning in wall sconces on either side. The door itself was huge, iron-bound and studded. There was neither lock nor handle. Zuglah set the end of Redda Mo against the middle of the door and pushed. It swung easily.


    There was no antechamber leading to the tomb. Instead, the same space had been used to convert two rooms into one long one. There was an antiquated red runner that led straight up to a set of stairs about halfway back. Pillars lined the sides of the audience chamber, with more of the fancy silver lantern holders attached. Pinions and banners were strewn about the ceiling, tapestries adorned the walls and chandeliers hung down, fully lit.


    Down at the far end, the stairs marked the raised dias and the final resting place of Lord Gerth Goetl Stanwick.


    In front of that huge, marble tomb sat Lord Stanwick himself.


    ¡°Why isn¡¯t he in his tomb?¡± Redda Mo whispered, loud enough to be heard by everybody. ¡°Doesn¡¯t he like it?¡±


    Lord Stanwick wore thick black armor, a steel-winged black helmet and spiked, articulated gauntlets that Zuglah very badly wanted to Identify. Across his knees rested a two foot long iron handle with a nasty metal ball attached to it. There were sharp iron spikes sticking out of the ball on all sides and on the top. It was the meanest looking weapon Zuglah had ever seen.


    Standing behind him and to the left was a woman. She had straight black hair, and intense, staring eyes. Her hair was held back by a diadem of vines and lovers knots, and her totem staff was hung about with fetishes and curses. Troll totems were clan markers, full of bragging and bluffs, threats and warnings. This staff was the real deal.


    Zuglah readied his quarterstaff, not wanting to risk being surprised by some attack. He thought about rushing them. That would certainly catch them off guard!


    ¡°It¡¯s traditional,¡± Caldwell said softly, ¡°to have a polite conversation before you just jump right in. It¡¯s your first boss fight, after all.¡±


    Zuglah felt the tension leave his shoulders. He hadn¡¯t realized how close he had been to simply starting the fight.


    He strode to the center of the room and planted Redda Mo.


    ¡°Bold,¡± hissed the woman. She did not sound disapproving.


    ¡°Why have you come here, Son of Triotch?¡± His voice sounded ancient, but deep and sonorous. His gaze was unnerving.


    ¡°The Sigil.¡± Seemed like a straightforward answer was probably for the best.


    ¡°A mercenary then.¡± He sounded disappointed. ¡°You fight without conviction, and seek a talisman you cannot wield. What will you do when others will no longer pay for your blood?¡±


    ¡°Huh. I never really thought about that. But I guess I am a mercenary. At least right now.¡±


    ¡°Hear this, mercenary.¡± He rose to his feet, picking up the huge steel club and pointing it at him. ¡°Should you leave this place alive, find my gronnibox. It is buried in the far corner of the last stable of the Constant Maiden. Take what you discover there to the Stanish Manor. Someone must defeat the Tar Maiden. Someone must break this curse. Perhaps you will find more to fight for than yourself.¡± He walked down the stairs, every step crashing down upon the flagstones.


    When he reached the bottom, he said, ¡°Shawka.¡±


    Apparently, that was the short, savage woman¡¯s name because as soon as he said it, she banged her curse staff against the floor, and a sickly green aura appeared around Lord Stanish.


    With no further discussion, he started forward. ¡°Finally,¡± Redda Mo muttered eagerly.


    The Lord was walking awfully fast, so Zuglah hit him with Blast of Frost while he thought it over. Only it had no effect. He didn¡¯t even bother to knock it away, it simply melted into nothing. And he kept coming.


    The Ice Blade did a little better. It was just slow enough that Zuglah could see the moment when it crossed some unseen barrier and lost energy. It crashed into his armor, exploding instantly instead of digging in. It appeared to do very little damage, but it froze his armor enough to hamper his movements.


    By then Lord Stanish had reached Zuglah. When the knight swung the huge metal club down at him, he brought up Redda Mo. He was about to reach for the dagger at his belt when he realized something was not right.


    Redda Mo did nothing. At least, on his own. Zuglah had expected him to take over, but when he didn¡¯t he ended up waving his arm in a lazy arc in front of the Lord. He heard a nasty crunch as the spikes bit into his forearm. That was broken, he was sure.


    Redda Mo fell to the floor, screaming, ¡°You dropped me! You dropped me!¡±


    Zuglah found that most helpful. Especially when the big club swung upwards catching him in the chest and carrying him off of his feet. He felt the wind leave him with a gentle woosh.


    As he was gasping, Lord Stanish walked over and picked Zuglah up by the front of his robes. With his very mundane gauntlets. He easily held the large troll in front of him as he asked, ¡°Do you see how shallow your resolve is? If there was only something that you could believe in. Something greater than yourself.¡±


    Zuglah was reeling. His arm throbbed, and he was gasping for breath. He reached his working arm forward until it was inside the range of the mysterious barrier, and from there he pulled The Ice Knife out of the air. He stuck it into Lord Stanish¡¯s angry face.


    Of course he was a ghost. Of course he was.

 Chapter Eleven: Whos The Boss

    Chapter Eleven: Who¡¯s the Boss?


    Caldwell stood by the doorway, holding his breath. He wanted to yell, ¡°Drink a blasted potion!¡± He had wanted to warn him about Redda Mo, too, but since Redda had already dropped a hint himself, he felt like more would have been putting his thumb on the scale.


    Lord Stanish threw Zuglah to the floor and raised his mace, completely ignoring the chunk of ice sticking out of his face. Caldwell had to admit that the lad was a dab hand with those. And he hadn¡¯t even tried casting them with a dagger yet.


    The spell exploded. Stanish stepped back, shaking his head, trying to clear the ice from his helmet. Zuglah had scrambled to his feet and was shaking his broken arm, holding it low to the side. It was an instinctual thing, lining up the bones so that they grew together straight. They were already starting to knit.


    Zuglah blinked.


    He appeared behind Shawka and stabbed her with Bramblethorn before she even knew he  was there. She cried out and spun, and he ruthlessly stabbed her again, in the chest. She fell to her knees, and Zuglah waved his knife towards Lord Stanish. A large, thorny wall of bramble sprang up around him, unimpeded by any anti-curse protection.


    Caldwell could not hear exactly what, but Zuglah said something that made Shawka look up from where she was crouched. He unleashed a barrage of Dancing Mana, and just then two Ice Blades exploded within her, front and back. She was done. Her Curse Totem hadn¡¯t even crashed to the ground yet.


    Stanish was just pulling himself free from the brambles. He was scratched all over, and had lost a lot of his vigor. Zuglah took away some more by firing a series of Ice Blades at him, and slowing him with his Blast of Frost.


    The Troll rushed forward and picked up Redda Mo from the floor. He began swinging at Stanish, bashing first his mace and then his helm. He was already using both arms. The iron bands and caps made Redda Mo a particularly heavy quarterstaff, but he was in the hands of a Troll with a lot of adrenaline. If anything, Zuglah spun faster and hit harder than Redda Mo, pushing the knight around in his armor and battering him mercilessly.


    After taking a pummeling, Stanish caught him with a glancing blow to the shoulder that turned out to be a feint. He tied up the Lord¡¯s arm, and with a quick twist of his wrist, relieved him of his weapon. When Stanish tried to step back, Zuglah put him on the ground with an expertly timed trip.


    Zuglah raised his arm over Stanish as if in pronouncement. Stanish hissed, ¡°Remember the Tar Witch!¡± And then Zuglah unleashed a barrage of Dancing Mana. Ten, then twelve strong. There was nothing left of Lord Stanish.


    Zuglah didn¡¯t even stagger around this time. He simply turned to look at Caldwell as he arrived. He was grinning from ear to ear. ¡°He got me good. See my arm?¡± He held out his almost perfectly restored arm, showing him nothing more than a torn sleeve. Caldwell crouched down opposite him, looking at the growing pile of loot on Lord Stanish¡¯s chest. Two rings, several gold coins, a scroll and two potions. One of them was very likely a Standard Heal.


    Zuglah looked across at him. ¡°Do you want to do the honors?¡±


    ¡°Not a chance.¡± On his own first Boss, they had rolled dice for every single item. He wanted Zuglah to enjoy this.


    When he cast Detect Magic, Stanish¡¯s mace and both rings glowed. Protection From Fire again, and Veiled Shadows, a very powerful ring that allowed the wearer to fully disappear for twenty five seconds. Zuglah¡¯s eyes widened when he looked at it. He could see the potential right away.


    The mace was called Storm Sister, or so he learned when he used Identify. StormSister, +3 mace, Crushing Blows once per short rest. This would be the prize. Caldwell knew of several fighters, clerics, paladins and even dwarven thieves who would love to have a basher such as this. Zuglah tossed it into the Bag of Holding without much thought.


    He was, however, concerned about his new ring. He was worried that having another magic ring would make him vulnerable to The Cackles, the magical form of hysteria that Caldwell had warned him of. He reassured his young apprentice that only counted with status effects. Veiled Shadows was a spell. He popped it on with gusto.


    When he approached Shawka, Zuglah had a strange reverence that bordered on sadness. He stood over her Curse Totem for a moment before he spoke. ¡°Among the Horde there is a belief that I must choose one. I must choose one of these curses, or they will all consume my fate.¡±


    Caldwell wanted to reassure him that such beliefs were superstitious nonsense. He had to remind himself that he wasn¡¯t just teaching a new apprentice, he was taking on a Lowrock Riverlands Troll, with all the trimmings. ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware,¡± he said gently, ¡°that you were in touch with any of the Horde.¡±


    Zuglah shook his head, still looking down at the Curse Totem. ¡°The Swamp Hag used to tell me stories about them. It was how she initially lured me in, when she taught me to pick herbs for her.¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Caldwell could not read the Curses, but Zuglah touched each one in turn. ¡°Betrayed to Death, Lost Love, Lose a Fortune.¡± He picked up the last one with a sad smile and pinned it to his breast. Then, he gently scooped up the priestess and carried her to Lord Stanish¡¯s tomb where he laid her on top. He put her Curse Totem Staff beside her.


    ¡°She will be back,¡± Caldwell said quietly. He had explained the magic of dungeons and even instances to him already. He knew that whatever forces ruled this life and world would restore everyone within, when whatever phase of the moon it was aligned with came to pass. Sometimes it was indicated, other times it was not. He did not know if the Instance itself was linked to the same phase of the moon, but this particular crypt respawned three days after New.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Zuglah said. ¡°But her ancestors are watching.¡±


    Zuglah used his new knife to pry the Stanish sigil from the front of the helm. It came away easily, glowing faintly when held by the Troll. He must have sensed it, because he quickly stuffed it into his Bag.


    They also found two Death Totems, a Widow¡¯s Diadem and two Spore Stones, which were long, flat mushrooms that disguised themselves as rocks to avoid predation. They were exceedingly rare and much higher level than ought to have been in this dungeon. Caldwell began to suspect that this quest line might be significantly epic, judging by the set up. It was a strange feeling, being envious of one¡¯s own apprentice.


    They made the short trek back to Ulbarth¡¯s room, and this time when they arrived the door was unlocked. ¡°My triumphant friend!¡± The Centaur said expansively when they entered. ¡°I knew I was right about you. Ruthless and bloodthirsty. Come and claim your reward.¡±


    The dagger and the ring were in a glass display case beside his best wares. The case would be spelled, and most likely it would prevent even Identify from penetrating. But Caldwell was reasonably confident that these items would do exactly what the shopkeeper said they did.


    When Zuglah pulled the sigil from his sleeve, the centaur smiled even wider, if such a thing were possible. He received his prize graciously, and waved an arm over the display case. The glass and wood frame on the top rose smoothly.


    Zuglah dragged a claw idly down the knife as he contemplated it. Slowly, as if unsure, his hand reached over and his claw touched the ribbon.


    ¡°Trash. You do not want that, adventurer. I keep it only to fool the hapless. You should choose the knife.¡± Zuglah picked up the ribbon, holding it up to the light. It didn¡¯t look like much, but he was strangely taken. Caldwell said nothing. Ulbarth, however, said, ¡°Take the knife, and I will grant you the ring for free.¡±


    ¡°No thank you.¡± Zuglah said. ¡°I have enough rings. I¡¯ll just take this and that splishy hat for my friend.¡±


    Caldwell immediately stuffed his workaday hat into his Lute Bag. ¡°I graciously accept your humble gift, student.¡± He scampered over to the hat where it lay on the display table and put down a fat gold sovereign. ¡°Keep the change, Ulbarth.¡± But it seemed that the centaur¡¯s mood had soured.


    They took their leave. Caldwell with his hat and Zuglah, his ribbon. Somehow Caldwell felt like he had gotten the better of the deal. They walked out the same way they came in, and when they reached the top of the stairs that lead out of the tomb itself, they heard the same stone-on-stone grating as before. Upon completely exiting the tomb, it closed itself off, and Caldwell caught a glimpse of the staircase fading away as the crypt was closed off. There was a distinct air of finality to the closing.


    He strode forward and rapped with his staff. It was inert.


    Zuglah opened a couple of buttons on the front of his robes and lifted his undershirt. They were both tattered and bloodstained. ¡°Do you see this bit of grass? It¡¯s Troll writing. This knot here says ¡°Growth. The berries mean ¡®Honor your ancestors.¡¯¡± He opened the pin on the back of the ribbon and easily pushed it through his skin, high up on his left breast. When he let it go, the ribbon fluttered in the wind that must have somehow missed Caldwell, even though he was pretty hot. On the last flutter, the ribbon laid itself neatly across his chest and froze in place. As Zuglah lowered his undershirt, it appeared to be sinking below the surface.


    As he buttoned his robes, Zuglah commented on how hungry he had become. Caldwell himself  was looking forward to nothing more than conjuring a hearty meal and sleep. Tomorrow, he planned on spending most of the day going over the events of their little raid. He had honestly not expected today to be anything more than killing a couple of skeletons, perhaps a hasty retreat if things went badly, try again tomorrow.


    Zuglah told him to go ahead, that he wanted to walk up the hill. But Caldwell was not going to run ahead now. He walked alongside his student and kept him company. It wasn¡¯t that far of a climb. When they reached the summit, he heard a very familiar voice say, ¡°Nice hat, wizard. I¡¯m glad to see you enjoying yourself, in your leisure hours.¡±


    Another, richer voice purred, ¡°And who is your delicious friend?¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Boland. The hat was a gift. Steenie, this is the wizard Zuglah, my student.¡± Zuglah shuffled forward in a way that was a bit unlike him. His face had a pale blue pallor, and his hand trembled when he went to shake hands with Steenie. It took Caldwell a moment to realize what the problem was. ¡°Boland, do you mind? He¡¯s yuon sazal, for pity¡¯s sake.¡±


    The Fighter looked sheepish as he trotted a few feet away. He shrugged his massive shoulders and gave a Shout. The Daunting Aura lashed out in a ring of Holy Damage that came close to Zuglah but did not reach him. He did not flinch, for which Caldwell was fairly proud. That Shout would have knocked him directly onto his ass.


    ¡°Sorry about that, lad. Yuon eh? You look like you¡¯ve been within melee range! Now that¡¯s my kind of Wizard!¡± He laughed, and clapped Zuglah on the shoulder. Caldwell knew how much that clap smarted. Boland was a rough friend to have.


    ¡°I suppose you¡¯ve found him then?¡± Caldwell asked. Boland nodded.


    ¡°He¡¯s part of Pylex¡¯s inner circle now. I guess even Pank can¡¯t resist his level of power. Even if he is a known snake. At least now we know who he¡¯s working with.¡± Caldwell nodded, thinking. They would need a full party for this raid, beyond doubt. ¡°We have found you a Mana battery. By the name of Destyon. He¡¯s a Gnome, but he¡¯s not squeamish. Necro. And he knows the Plane of Scorn well.¡±


    Caldwell could barely keep his eyes open. Zuglah was sitting on a camp chair, swaying in his seat. ¡°Boland I will see you at your compound, before this time tomorrow. You have my word. But right now I need to sleep, and in the morning I have to sort out my apprentice. As you can see, he¡¯s a little tired. He solo¡¯d his first dungeon today.¡±


    Boland was astonished. ¡°What? I thought you said he was tier two.¡±


    ¡°He was eoan sazal when we started. He was just supposed to get the feel for things, but an Instance unfolded, and things just ran away from there. I¡¯ll tell you all about it. Now please. I just want to sleep.¡± He opened a portal for them.


    ¡°But you¡¯re going to eat first though, right?¡± Boland could out-eat Zuglah.


    Caldwell sighed, and closed the portal.

 Chapter Twelve: Aint Nothing Glorious About It

    Chapter Twelve: Ain¡¯t Nothing Glorious About It


    Zuglah felt like he never really got to enjoy his victory. Everything after the fight with Lord Stanish was difficult to remember, hard to keep straight. The fight itself was vivid, to say the least. He still couldn¡¯t understand how his arm bones had knit so fast. The last time he remembered breaking a bone, it had taken days to heal completely. This one was barely even sore.


    Caldwell informed him that he had slept thirteen hours. He suspected that the man himself hadn¡¯t slept a wink. When he gave Zuglah the Bag of Holding, he told him that he had loaded him up with Heals and Pots, as well as most if not all of the ingredients and a small alchemy set for field work. He said that the money from the Portable Hole was also in the bag, and that it was quite a tidy sum.


    Zuglah didn¡¯t really care about the money. He just wished that he could go with him. ¡°That¡¯s literally not possible. At your current ability level you could not even use the Portal Stones required. Besides, the team is full.¡± There wasn¡¯t anything more to say.


    Zuglah hadn¡¯t seen the tent being set up, so he wasn¡¯t sure what to expect when Caldwell struck camp. He had taken everything he could think of, and had asked Redda Mo if he wanted to come along, or go back into the Broom Closet. Redda Mo had said that he was strangely touched, to be asked. ¡°This is exactly why I am Team Zap Captain,¡± he said. He was coming.


    A portal not of Caldwell¡¯s making opened on the other side of the tree. Dunstan, the Dwarven quartermaster of the Bakerton Adventurer¡¯s Guild came through with a half dozen employees, ranging from a Dwarf, two Gnomes, and three Humans. The quartermaster came directly over to Caldwell and greeted him. The wizard handed Dunstan a couple of gold coins, and the tiny notebook that he had used to keep track of their potion making enterprise. Apparently it was a part of the laboratory¡¯s inventory system.


    ¡°Dunstan, Zuglah Glun is my apprentice now. Formally.¡± The Dwarf¡¯s eyebrows rose, but he didn¡¯t remark. ¡°Give him full credit. I¡¯m going to be gone about a year. Scorn.¡± Zuglah¡¯s heart sank, hearing that. A full year?


    Dunstan spat. ¡°That Realm is a greasy fish, and bitter. I¡¯m not Jackla¡¯s biggest fan, but you should go get her. It¡¯s not right. What they¡¯re doing.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the Pank. In eleven thousand years, they¡¯ve never been easy. Especially not on their own. Jackla¡¯s the worst of the lot.¡± Zuglah listened as hard as he could. The Pank were mythological figures. He was safe from them on this Plane of course, unless they should choose to come here. But why would they? This was a smelly mudball, compared to the Realms they were said to inhabit. They knew the ways of the Gods, and had trod them.


    The workers had the camp broken down and loaded onto a wagon that they had retrieved from inside the big tent itself, although Zuglah had never seen it before. They moved everything around to where the portal had been, and were waiting impatiently for Dunstan. He shook their hands. He wished Caldwell luck in his endeavors, and told Zuglah, ¡°If you need anything while you¡¯re at the Glout, talk to any Dwarf and ask him where to find Badger. He¡¯ll sort you out. Spells, reagents, whatever. You still got your Portable?¡±


    Zuglah patted his potions bag. ¡°It¡¯s in the Bag of Holding.¡±


    The Dwarf closed his eyes, and gave a great sigh. He looked at Caldwell. ¡°Do me a favor, would you? Just teach him the good habits?¡± He looked back to Zuglah. ¡°The Bag is unstable. Once you hit the weight limit, that¡¯s it. Poof. You have any idea how much a Portable Hole weighs?¡± He shook his head, apparently tired of carrying water up this particular hill. ¡°Just please, next time you take it out, don¡¯t put it back in.¡±


    Zuglah really wanted to make him feel better. ¡°I swear, the only time I even take it out is to drop it on a body.¡± Unfortunately, his words seemed to have the opposite effect.


    Dunstan turned to Caldwell and shook his head. ¡°You showed him that, too? Never mind. Of course you did. Teach him how to Mend, instead would you?¡± And with that, he turned and walked away, shaking his head and muttering. He walked right by his employees, popping up a portal at the last second and striding right through.


    His robes were a sight to behold. Not for the first time that day, he wondered why Caldwell had told him to wear them. He would have thought his fancy ones would be better for his first day of school. But Caldwell said that this would make more of an impression. The impression that someone had recently tried to kill him.


    Caldwell opened a portal.


    When Zuglah stepped through, he found himself in a richly appointed office, or perhaps a study. It smelled of books and finished wood. There was something else in the air that he had never smelled before, an animal. He tried to sense what it was.


    There was an old Human at the desk, staring at him in amusement. It took him a moment to realize that Caldwell had not joined him. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry young man. I know exactly who is hiding around the corner on the other side. Come out, Caldwell, and tell me why you¡¯ve brought me a Troll.¡±


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    Caldwell stuck his head through the door and grinned. ¡°You¡¯re no fun, Slorric. A Troll steps through a portal right in front of you, and that¡¯s all you had to say for yourself?¡±


    Slorric crossed his scrawny arms. He was a Human, and looked both skinny and round in spots. ¡°I knew who it was. Nobody else would barge in here instead of using the front door like civilized folk. Besides, I received your letter last night. I take it you are Zuglah Glun?¡± He took Zuglah¡¯s hand from down by his side and shook it. ¡°My name is Slorric Bellwether. I am not the head of admissions, as you might suspect, but actually the Dean of Wizardry. Don¡¯t worry about anything. It¡¯s all been arranged. Just a few questions before we get you settled. Now. How long have you been a Troll?¡± Zuglah stared from one stone-faced old man to the next.


    ¡°Maybe eighteen years?¡± He wasn¡¯t sure exactly how old he was, if that was what he was asking.


    ¡°Excellent. Well done. And how long have you been a wizard?¡±


    Zuglah did a quick count. ¡°Five days?¡±


    Slorric nodded. ¡°I see. And who did those?¡± He pointed towards the rips and bloodstains all over his robes.


    He looked over the gashes near his collar. ¡°Well I think these were mostly done by the Spectre.¡± he lifted the sleeve of his robe where the mace had torn his arm as well. ¡°This was from Lord Stanish. Broke my arm.¡± He shrugged.


    Slorric was still nodding. ¡°I look forward to hearing the whole tale. Let me show you to your room. Then I¡¯ll be back to shout at Caldwell. In the morning, I¡¯ll go over any questions you might have.¡±


    Caldwell shook hands solemnly with Zuglah. ¡°I made this commitment long before we met, but I don¡¯t expect this to take very long from our perspective. About a month. Unfortunately, a month there is almost a full year here on Malgros. Parker mentioned that Trolls take an abnormally long time to level up in wizardry. But you will do fine. Like I said before, you¡¯re a natural. Keep learning, and I¡¯ll be back before you know it. I bet by the time I get back, you won¡¯t want to leave.¡±


    Zuglah didn¡¯t want the wizard to see that he was sad, so he said a very short goodbye in return. ¡°Thank you for everything, Caldwell. Good luck on your quest.¡± He found Slorric waiting in the hall.


    The Tower was massive. They were on the tenth floor of thirty, with the offices on this one. There were nine floors below them, all of them filled with students of one discipline or another. ¡°Welcome to the Academy for Glorious Lightning or Ultimate Thunder. Also known as the Glout. Started out just us wizards, back a couple hundred years ago now. Then, they gave a couple of rooms in the basement to some monks, and before we knew it we were home to a smart little Cleric school. Had eight students enrolled before we caught wind of it. Now of course they all go to the Rusnic Nam Ziggurat, but back then it led to mages, druids, necromancers, sorcerers, it seems like everyone wanted to teach a class here. We¡¯re still the largest school, but those mages are popular. Summon everything you ever need. From camp supplies to disposable heroes. Sorcs are popular too of course. Not spells the way I see them. Just storm this and lightning that. Not a drop of finesse. A lot of Trolls, though. Right clever bastards they are, too. Demons on the battlefield. In fact, you¡¯re the first wizard I¡¯ve ever seen. Shamen, priests, druids even. But never wizards or mages.¡±


    It was a lot to take in. He listened intently, trying not to fall down the stairs in his treacherous shoes. He really would have rather worn his Sea Striders, but Caldwell could be oddly fussy about such things. Boots were not for inside the tower.


    He lost track, but Slorric said that they had arrived at the third floor from the ground. They entered the floor, which was divided into four barrack style dorms plus a central area. The women had a half-sized dorm, with a lot of their space given over to the lounge and recreation area. As soon as they entered, they were greeted by a large, fur-covered female that resembled a humanoid badger creature, with a small nose, razor sharp teeth and whiskers that tested the air constantly. She was wearing a modest dress and a smock, as well as a bonnet and spectacles that were thicker than Zuglah¡¯s by far.


    ¡°Zuglah, this is Betsie. She¡¯s a Driole, and she sleeps with the girls. Takes care of the dorms when you students are out.¡±


    ¡°So don¡¯t make a mess,¡± she chided in a high-pitched voice that matched her appearance perfectly. Zuglah reassured her that he would not.


    One entire dorm was reserved for wizards, but it was full. As was the one for the mages and sorcs, so his bunk was in the odds and ends dormitory. Mages, magicians, an illusionist, a necromancer and a druid. Plus one Troll wizard.


    He was shown to the exact bed that he would be sleeping in for the next year. Where he would call home. There was a small chest that fit underneath the foot of the bed. Betsie explained that whoever put possessions inside became the proprietor of the box, and it would only open for them. She was slightly annoyed to discover that somebody had placed an item inside it, denying them immediate use. Slorric tapped it with a knock spell. A pair of dirty socks and some smallclothes were inside. They also smelled used.


    ¡°Is that Kaeet?¡±


    Slorric chuckled. ¡°Looks like you have a fellow detective, Betsie.¡±


    Betsie tsk¡¯d in annoyance. ¡°Dundindun. I keep telling him that we wash smallclothes, we don¡¯t bury them. Some people take a long time to escape their upbringing.¡± Zuglah didn¡¯t have any upbringing, so had nothing to escape. But he made a mental note to hide his smallclothes better when he disposed of them.


    Now that they had it opened, they asked him if he actually had anything to put in there. He opened up his potions bag and started rooting around for something he didn¡¯t need.


    Betsie snorted, an oddly delicate sound coming from her. ¡°Let me guess. Heals and Pots? What else, Bag? Portable?¡±


    ¡°Caldwell¡¯s had him for five days and he¡¯s already turned him into a ten-season campaigner.¡±


    Feeling a little self conscious about it now, he chose a Mana Pot and placed it inside, claiming the box.


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Slorric asked. ¡°Well okay then. Let¡¯s get you a head start on supper, and Betsie can tell you about the End of the World. I need to have a chat with a certain adventurer.¡±

 Chapter Thirteen: Live And In Concert

    Chapter Thirteen: Live And In Concert


    ¡°Zombies.¡± Betsie pronounced the sentence with finality. ¡°Skeletons, werewolves, ghosts. Headless vampires.¡±


    ¡°Headless vampire? How¡¯s he going to eat?¡± Zuglah had been trying to lead the conversation back around to the Pank, but he kept getting drawn in.


    ¡°They¡¯re not coming to eat, Zuglah. Just kill.¡± That made sense. It was an apocalypse after all.


    He had eaten at least five or six plates of food. He didn¡¯t even order them, they just kept bringing more. He didn¡¯t mind. Betsie ate a big bowl of leaves and veggies, explaining that she had given up meat recently. Plus they really didn¡¯t have the kind of meat she liked anyway, which was field mice and voles and such. ¡°Garden snakes, owls. A nice fat squirrel,¡± he agreed. He had lived rough for a couple of years, before he met the Swamp Hag.


    Supper had come and gone, and they still sat here drinking wine and talking about the Five Apocalypses. The entire school had come through and seen the young Troll in the bloodstained, torn robes stuffing his face with the Driole matron from the third floor. He would go introduce himself to his new bunkmates in due time, but for now he figured let them gossip. He was enjoying the conversation, even if the relevant parts had been very few.


    ¡°I had no idea there¡¯d been five,¡± he said. ¡°I only knew about the Pank.¡± And Hews of course, but he wasn¡¯t trying to bring that up.


    ¡°You would, of course. Being with Caldwell.¡± She was noticeably drunk now, and Zuglah realized that he needed to help her to her room.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°Jackla.¡± He had no idea who she was, but if he could use it for a little fishing¡­


    ¡°Exactly.¡± She put her head down on the table. Zuglah sprang up. It was definitely time to go. ¡°Leave it to The Viz to marry the scariest woman in all the Planes. He needs someone fuzzy to keep him warm at night.¡± That was new. Who the heck was The Viz?


    As soon as they got back to the floor, a Halfling and a Tauren came over to relieve him of the drunken matron, fussing over her and hissing at him. The hobbit was useless for supporting the Driole, but she made up for it with her excellent hissing.


    The common area had a bunch of Elves in it.


    There were eight of them in total, six men and two women. They were all wizards. He found that out when he wandered over to introduce himself. ¡°You look a sight,¡± remarked Stuglas Stagrather, the group¡¯s wanna-be leader. He smelled like a High Elf, and he had silver hair that fell straight down. The girl he was sharing a couch with was also a High Elf, if the cold, ethereal cast of her scent was any indication. Her hair was a deep copper red, but swept back at the temples and held in place by a diadem. She introduced herself as Chayah Runsfaster, and she was one of the two highest wizards at the school.


    ¡°Have you been crawling? Where was it? I¡¯m shaba seyzal, and I¡¯ve only ever run Spellman¡¯s Caverns. My father is paying to have me power leveled. It¡¯s so tedious and humiliating. If I have to kill one more Kobold, I¡¯ll quit Wizardry and take up gardening. It looks like you had fun, though. Stuglas, move over.¡±


    She spoke nonstop. Stuglas looked around in annoyance, then stood up. He strode over to the tall, broad-shouldered Wood Elf sitting directly across from Chayah, and motioned him out of his seat. The man sighed, but eventually moved chairs, although he made a great show out of taking his time.


    Zuglah sat down on the couch. ¡°It was very small. Like a three room dungeon. Called The Stanish Crypt.¡±


    She gushed, ¡°Amazing. You have to take me, like right away. I don¡¯t care if I don¡¯t get any exp. I just want to kill something fair and square for once.¡±


    Zuglah shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I can take you there or not. I don¡¯t think so. You see, when I went in I guess I triggered an Instance.¡±


    ¡°WHAT??¡±


    Chayah shouted so loud that Zuglah bounded to his feet, ready to blink in any direction. He slowly sat back down, feeling foolish.


    ¡°Oh my word. We have to go back. You have to finish that instance. What if there¡¯s more?¡±


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    ¡°There definitely is. Right before I fought Lord Stanish-¡±


    ¡°You what??¡± Zuglah jumped again. One of the other Elves, the other girl, had pulled her chair up closer. In fact, they all had.


    Calming himself a little, he continued, ¡°Right before he and I fought, he told me where to find something called a gronnibox I think? I need to retrieve something there to defeat a creature called The Tar Witch, and free the Stanish Family from a curse.¡±


    ¡°So what happened? When you fought Stanish?¡± It was one of the men this time, the Wood Elf, he thought.


    ¡°Should I just start at the beginning?¡± He wasn¡¯t sure, but that seemed the best way, since they were just going to keep diverting him with questions otherwise.


    ¡°For pity sake, yes.¡± Stuglas said. He appeared as caught up as the rest. It seemed to Zuglah like these Elves were starved for some real challenges.


    He told them the story, starting from the moment that he walked in. How his teacher had told him that he was in an Instance. He told them all about Ulbarth, and how he had somehow gotten his wagon deep inside a dungeon. Then he told them about the fight with the Spectres, and how he had gotten so bloody by exchanging blows with one.


    ¡°I guess I just got excited,¡± he laughed. ¡°It was my first time in a fight, and my first time doing anything as a wizard. I could have used spells, but I dunno, I just wanted to use my quarterstaff.¡±


    ¡°You really used your claws on a Spectre? Like, a real Spectre? Big floaty guy, goat skull for a head? Sometimes a raven?¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t seem to do much. His sure did though, right through my Mage Armor. And my face.¡± He laughed, but nobody else did. They were looking at his robes.


    After that he told them about the three Shadow Knights, as Caldwell had called them, and about trying to sneak up on them. He confessed that Redda Mo had pretty much saved his life.


    ¡°Who¡¯s Redda Mo?¡± Stuglas asked.


    ¡°Hang on,¡± Chayah said to him, then turned to Zuglah. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have died though, right? I mean, why wouldn¡¯t your teacher step in at that point?¡±


    Zuglah shrugged. ¡°We had The Lady with us, so it was fine. You know, Lady? Live, Damn You!¡±


    Chayah was horrified. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make it okay. I mean, you were seriously eoan sazal? How is that even possible? I don¡¯t think I could take three tier four shadow knights now! And your teacher was just going to let them kill you? That¡¯s horrible.¡±


    ¡°No, he was just going to let it end however it was meant to. If he hadn¡¯t, I never would have won that fight. Even though I guess technically Redda Mo won it.¡±


    At this point, there really was no avoiding it. He took the rolled up Bag of Holding out of his potions bag and unrolled it. He untied the silver chord, opened the bag, and hauled out Redda Mo. There were a lot of appreciative murmurs, and then Stuglas started talking very quickly in High Elf. At least, Zuglah assumed it was quickly, but maybe for them he was slow. Redda Mo replied at around the same speed, so it all sounded like speed-gibberish.


    The Wood Elf, whose name was Denton Fask, laughed and said, ¡°I like your runestick. He¡¯s funny. He said you¡¯re crazy.¡±


    Zuglah couldn¡¯t blame him. It only happened yesterday, but he felt like it was surreal, now. When he resumed the story, Redda Mo embellished shamelessly with details that only served to make him seem more heroic. He started to feel self conscious. ¡°Not only was he a gyiol sazal Shadow Knight, he had a witch buffing him. I don¡¯t think they were ready for an attack like that though.¡± Redda Mo laughed.


    He thought that when he finished telling the story they would lose interest in him. But they had questions. How much loot was there? Why wasn¡¯t he at least tier three or four by now? Who was the witch? Stuglas wanted to know how he could believe someone that he just met, trust that he had an expensive Live potion on him and was willing to use it on a complete stranger?


    ¡°We weren¡¯t strangers. We¡¯d been making potions together for days. We even bought some phoenix teeth and some God¡¯s Tears in Bakerton.¡± Stuglas looked at him blankly, so he pulled a vial of Lady out of his bag without looking. ¡°For Lady?¡±


    Stuglas snorted. ¡°You made that? It¡¯s probably not even real.¡± Zuglah calmly set it down on the floor in front of himself, so that anyone who wanted to could Identify it. Chayah gasped and snatched it up from the ground.


    ¡°You made this? That¡¯s incredible. You have more, right? Will you sell me this one? I¡¯ll give you five platinum for it right now.¡± All of the Elves started clamoring. Not one of them was willing to outbid Chayah exactly, but they did all let it be known that they would pay even more than the outrageous sum of five plats¡­ for the second vial on offer. Elves, it seemed, set a great store by hierarchy.


    He gently plucked the potion from her fingers. She frowned delicately, but did not protest. ¡°If you are ever in need of a potion, you¡¯ll have it. Any of you.¡± He stood. He hadn¡¯t meant to stay with these Elves quite so long. He was starting to get tired, and he still hadn¡¯t even met his bunkmates. He retrieved Redda Mo from the lap of the other girl wizard, thanked everybody, and left.


    ¡°Zuglah Glun.¡± Just as he reached the barracks door, Chayah caught up to him. ¡°I don¡¯t know where you came from, but I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here. Can we have lunch together tomorrow?¡± He was startled by the question.


    ¡°Uh, maybe? Tomorrow is my first day so I don¡¯t know what¡¯s in store for me. It was nice meeting you.¡± She opened her mouth to say more, but he was already slipping inside.


    His new bunkmates were waiting for him. All of them.

 Chapter Fourteen: Breakfast Of Champignons

    Chapter Fourteen: Breakfast of Champignons


    There were two Halflings leading the charge; Noah Britewine and Sallan Slowland. They were both shameless gossips.


    ¡°So you have a date with Chayah Runsfaster. On your first day of school. That seems suspicious. Your robes look contrived. Are you an agent for the Horde? I have to say you¡¯re quite good.¡± That was from Noah. It was later explained to Zuglah that he was a druid who was not the most mentally stable person in the world.


    ¡°Are you really a wizard? A Troll wizard? I¡¯ve never even heard of such a thing. Why don¡¯t you switch to Sorcerer or Magician? I¡¯ve heard that you guys make fantastic Sorcerers. Warlocks are the best of course, but where is a Troll going to find a qualified Magician to teach him?¡±


    The steady stream of babble that came from Sallan, the Warlock, was as confusing as it was abrasive. Was he saying quit being a Wizard? Whatever for?


    He was feeling very tired, and told them so. They mostly agreed that it was a good time to turn in. He was used to being up with the sunrise, and sleeping an hour or two after it set. He went and found his bed. Then, he went to find the Kaeet.


    He led Dundindun over to his chest, the furry mage exclaiming the whole while how it had been ages since he had been over to this side of the dorm. Zuglah ignored it all and lifted one side of the empty chest. ¡°Kindly remove those.¡± Dundindun snatched the smallclothes from under the chest and hissed at him. He ran back to his own bunk on all fours, tail lashing.


    The next morning was a little surreal. His new surroundings were a far cry from his den in the Ardent Glen. When he emerged from his dorm, Betsie was there to greet him. She reminded him that he was supposed to go meet with Slorric to discuss his learning schedule. His stomach gurgled loudly, and she specified after breakfast. Whew.


    The mess hall was huge, and currently there had to be close to a hundred people all in the same room. The noise from that many people quietly talking made him feel alive with energy. He bounced on his toes as he went to sit with his roommates.


    Zuglah took a seat on the end, happy enough to be away from the Deep Rock Gnome and Dwarf. It wasn¡¯t so much that they made him uncomfortable, but they were hard to look at. The pewter and slate tones of their skin were specifically designed to baffle Ultravision, a survival trait that was vital to any race that did not want to be eaten by Goblins. So he sat with the Driole, who was a class four Illusionist named Pliesson, and the Kaeet, who was, it turned out, a Mage. The two Halflings and the Forest Gnome were in the middle. Zuglah was the tallest person at the table by at least a head.


    Perhaps because he was a head taller and blue, but Chayah spotted him and started waving. He waved back. She immediately rose, picking up her tray. ¡°She¡¯s not coming over here, is she?¡± Pliesson was suddenly nervous, washing his whiskers, then his eyebrows with his hands over and over.


    Chayah and Stuglas came to sit with them. Chayah placed her tray beside Zuglah¡¯s and squeezed onto the bench alongside him delicately. He shoved hard against Pliesson, who slid down the bench with an indignant squeak. Stuglas was forced to find a chair and sit on the end.


    ¡°Good morning, everyone. Good morning, Zuglah.¡± Chayah smiled as most of the people at the table muttered some form of greeting or other. Pliesson just squeaked again, so Zuglah nudged him a little with his elbow. What was wrong with the Enchanter?


    ¡°Hello, Chayah. Good morning, Stuglas.¡± Zuglah kept his head down over his plate. He wasn¡¯t sure why the two High Elves had joined them, but it was clearly making his new friends a little less comfortable. The last thing he wanted to do was alienate these guys.


    ¡°So?¡± Chayah spoke loudly, addressing the table at large. ¡°Did you guys hear about Zuglah¡¯s quest? He was telling us about it last night. Isn¡¯t it amazing? You¡¯re so lucky, Zuglah. I¡¯m not even allowed to talk to dungeon denizens, much less quest givers.¡±


    ¡°We may or may not have heard every word you guys said.¡± Pliesson did not look up from his plate either. The two ate as if they were racing, while Chayah gushed.


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    ¡°I can¡¯t wait for lunch. I want to hear all about your Instance, without a bunch of macho male Elves shouting questions.¡±


    Zuglah nearly choked on his eggs. Perhaps Elves had a different standard for what was considered ¡®macho¡¯ among people who couldn¡¯t grow facial hair. But he said nothing, hoping she might give him some hint as to her real motivation for this lunch.


    ¡°Yes, well I have to go see the Dean, so who even knows if I will be available?¡± She turned to look at him, a mock-serious expression on her face. ¡°I¡¯m just saying, maybe tomorrow would be better?¡± Or never? There was no world where this girl was not pure trouble. She wasn¡¯t even allowed to talk to Emperchees, so it was a good bet that a Troll would be way out of bounds.


    ¡°I will be here, at the entrance to the mess hall by second bell. You have until third bell not to disappoint me.¡± She rose gracefully, her tray in her hands. She smiled at him sweetly, but when Stuglas stood up, she shoved her tray into his chest hard without looking at him and stormed off.


    ¡°She hasn¡¯t had anything to get excited about in a while. What her father actually pays them for is to hold her back. Excuse me.¡± He set down her tray without looking, and rushed off after her. Not for the first time, Zuglah wondered why he stuck to her so closely.


    When he arrived at Slorric¡¯s office, Zuglah was told to just knock and go right in.


    ¡°Ah, perfect. Welcome, Zuglah Glun. Wonderful, wonderful. Sit down please.``


    They talked for most of the morning. Slorric asked detailed questions about the Instance, focusing on his spells and tactics during the battle. Caldwell¡¯s notes had all been effusive praise, but Slorric was a little more impartial. ¡°Zuglah, there were a couple of times when your Shocking Grip would have come in quite handy. Also, being a wizard means being natural at solving riddles and puzzles. From your story alone, you have missed clues that have been dropped for you.¡±


    He didn¡¯t think that he meant Stanish, because he didn¡¯t hint at things. He had stated them outright. He thought about Caldwell. He had said that he tried to warn him about a hint.


    ¡°You mean because I got my arm broken? I should have caught Redda Mo¡¯s meaning?¡± Slorric shrugged.


    ¡°That and others. I will just say that there is more to find.¡±


    ¡°About Redda Mo?¡± He thought for a long moment. Not about what Redda had said to him, but rather what he had relayed to Slorric. The wizard had spotted something in his own words that he himself had missed. Finally, he opened his Bag of Holding and retrieved Redda Mo from inside.


    ¡°Redda Mo, when you said that you could cast with the best of them, does that mean that you will enhance my spellcasting?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Hmmm.


    ¡°So what is the advantage to casting a spell through you, then?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t cast a spell through me, silly wizard!¡± Redda Mo laughed, breaking character from the enigmatic hint giver momentarily.


    ¡°I can¡¯t? But you said you could cast spells with the best of them. Does that mean-¡±


    ¡°I can cast spells, yes.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s stupendous. What kind of spell? Wizard? Warlock? What level?¡±


    ¡°I can cast any tier one spell that you have a scroll for. I just need to wrap it around me for a whole day, and one sleep later I¡¯m ready!¡±


    ¡°Wow. I should have cast Identify on you a long time ago.¡±


    Slorric cleared his throat. ¡°I¡¯m glad we got that sorted out. I think that this quest of yours is going to have to wait as well. It sounds intriguing I¡¯ll admit, but you will want a full party of your friends around you from here on out, I think. A Cleric and a Fighter at the very least. Once you start fighting the undead, you can be sure that you will see more of them. Perhaps a Cleric and Paladin would be better.¡±


    Zuglah nodded, thinking about how he was supposed to find the stable and the Inn that Stanish told him about.


    But Slorric did not bring him in for a simple debrief. Rather, he explained to him how his mornings would be spent with a group of low level wizards, learning the theory and foundations first, then going over all of the cantrips, then all of the tier one spells, in order.


    ¡°I know that a lot of it will be redundant to you, but bear with it, please. Think of it as a refresher, or in some cases, a more correct way to do things, knowing Caldwell. I mean, if you¡¯re going to stuff one dimension inside of another, you should at least be aware that you are risking all of your loot. Also, I feel like I should mention that a lot of your new classmates are¡­ shall we say¡­ of the Human variety. They are not nearly as hearty as yourself. Which is why they tend to be housed on separate floors, you see. We¡¯re extremely fragile. And unfortunately, overly excitable.¡±


    ¡°I promise that I will not kill any of them. If that¡¯s what you mean.¡±


    Slorric smiled benignly at him. ¡°I know that you won¡¯t. I am worried rather about their foolishness. You see, Zuglah, I¡¯m afraid that we¡¯re the reason that Trolls don¡¯t become Wizards. Because we tend to kill them all.¡±

 Chapter Fifteen: My Dad Is Going To Hate You

    Chapter Fifteen: My Dad Is Going To Hate You


    By first bell, Zuglah was waiting by the entrance. He suddenly worried that he would appear to be too eager, showing up so early, but just then Chayah and Stuglas showed up. He was surprised to see the surly High Elf, seeing as how Chayah had made such a big deal about it just being the two of them. Then, Stuglas handed him a wicker basket, and stood looking at Chayah. ¡°Thank you Stuglas.¡± He did not seem displeased to be leaving.


    The basket smelled delicious. There was a roasted bird of some kind inside, and from the weight of the basket, a lot of other things besides. Zuglah did not know what to expect, but he was definitely surprised when she led him two floors up and into The Glout¡¯s library. It was the largest number of books that Zuglah had ever seen, but Chayah assured him that the real treasures were stored elsewhere.


    They were led to a private room with a number of maps and charts on boards and walls. The shelves contained atlas and map books, almanacs and weather graphs. A tall, distinguished Human took the basket from Zuglah and began setting down lunch. Zuglah told the geography scholars about the Stanish Crypt and the dungeon that was there. He had a hard time describing the location to them, because he couldn¡¯t mention the field with the hot springs and mineral baths. But after a couple of pointed questions, he told them that someone from the Adventurer¡¯s Guild had been running lower level people through this particular dungeon.


    As soon as he told them this, they departed, bowing to Chayah. Embarrassed, she explained that her father was paying the school a lot of money, and she had worked out with these men that they could say that they were tutoring her in the mathematics of celestial mechanics, and she would agree with them. Her father would toss them bags of gold if he thought she was becoming interested in something that involved staring at paper or books all day.


    ¡°Even better if the books themselves are about boring topics as well. After all, he wouldn''t want me getting any ideas. Stuglas beat twenty other wizards for the opportunity to study at this school. My father is paying him, too. And his tuition.¡±


    ¡°To keep you safe?¡± Zuglah asked around a mouthful of leafy salad. He had been right about the bird, large and golden brown. It was stuffed with berries and breads and cubes of cheese as well as olives, capers and something sweet that he could not identify. There were hand-sized meat pies, two long, thin loaves of fresh bread, milk, mead and wine.


    It was all so distracting that he was caught off guard when she said, ¡°Yes, that and spy on me. Mostly spy on me. Make sure I don¡¯t do anything to embarrass him.¡±


    ¡°Like having lunch with a Troll? What happens when Stuglas tells him about me?¡± Zuglah tried one of the meat pies. The gravy inside was rich, with a tangy bite that he loved. He went from a delicate bite to stuffing the rest of it into his mouth. It was somehow still hot. He could have eaten ten in a row.


    Chayah laughed. ¡°Eat, for mercy¡¯s sake.¡± He motioned towards the pies, but could not do more to urge her, because his mouth was full. She shook her head. ¡°I have my salad, and my berries for dessert. I will have some of the bread, and the wine. But the rest is for you.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Some food fell out of his mouth, but he didn¡¯t think she noticed. He hoped not.


    She explained that she was a vegetarian, so he looked over his shoulder to where the scholars had gone. Laughing harder, she explained that she had brought all of this for him. He had another meat pie while he decided what part of the bird to attack first.


    She wanted to know about the non-instance side of the dungeon. He told her about the skeletons, and the Spectre, the room with the tomb and its zombie ambush. She sounded sad that she couldn¡¯t experience it for herself.


    ¡°Yeah, you would have destroyed it. You have so many spells.¡± She blushed, and said that she probably wouldn¡¯t have.


    The scholars came back before they could finish eating. One of them carried a new book. He placed it on the table, but well away from their food, and opened it to a large map that unfolded outwards. The top of the map was marked, ¡°Hallowbail,¡± and it showed a large city in the top corner. Most of the map was plains and riverlands, and mountains below the city of Hallowbail. And up in the top corner, represented by barely three drawn oak trees, was the Ardent Glen.


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    It was in something called Hallowed Mills, a province in the Western half of Preyd, the country known for its agriculture and huge tracts of farmland.


    It was also on an entirely different continent.


    Zuglah felt distraught. He hadn¡¯t realized quite how far they had gone from his homeland. Somehow it had always felt as though the field of flowers, and Ugly Tree Hill were just around the corner, just a quick portal trip away. There were other clans of Trolls and Orcs and a band of Taurens that migrated along the river during the summer months. The Drow city of Inndreak was only a month¡¯s walk to the South.


    He asked Chayah to show him where they were now. She had to use an entirely different book of maps. When he saw where they were, his blood ran cold. They were in Loud, a Human city in the Nation called Pree. Nothing but Human cities. A small nation of Gnomes called Sfivlinguitt and even an entire city of Dwarves! If anyone hated Trolls the most, it was definitely the Dwarves.


    There was a huge forest that covered a thousand miles. A city was marked in the middle of it, but not drawn. Further south was an island that seemed to be one big city. It was Feydaeillyn, her home. ¡°There is a Troll district in my city. Called Szand¡¯ aught. ¡®Second Hearth,¡¯ right? Perhaps we can go there someday. I would love to show you my city.¡±


    Zuglah went back to the other map. He didn¡¯t know where he¡¯d been born, so he said nothing. ¡°I don¡¯t think a map this size has Manor Houses on it.¡±


    Chayah agreed. ¡°Plus I believe that we will need to find a much older map. I suspect that the Stanish Manor faded from memory a long time ago.¡± They talked for a while about how the family could have possibly fallen under such a curse, and how long they might have been trapped in that Instance. Ulbarth had remarked how he thought he had only been there a couple of hours.


    The next step, Chayah announced, was to make their way to Hallowed Mills and find a local scholar, preferably someone noble. Zuglah was skeptical about that last part, but said nothing. As they were departing, Zuglah left the three men each a gold coin. They were surprised, but delighted to accept.


    He walked with her back to their floor, where she said she was very happy that he had come to learn wizardry at the school. She made him promise not to go looking for the gronnibox without her. ¡°I¡¯d like to know exactly what a gronnibox is.¡± He told her that she would be welcome if he ever figured out where it was. He rushed to get to his class.


    Slorric had told him that his mornings would be occupied with wizardly pursuits, but the afternoons were for rounding out his education. There were classes in how to group up with other party members, and crafting all kinds of things. From leather armor to clothing, blacksmithing to archery, they had lessons on everything.


    Over the next few weeks, he acquired all twelve of the level one spells, even if he could still only keep about four straight in his head at any given time. A strong choice for favorite new spell was Magic Slippers, which created an envelope around one¡¯s self, outside of which sounds could not be heard. So he could hear himself close a door, or drop a cup on the ground, but nobody else would be able to. Unless the cup bounced outside of the envelope before smashing.


    There was also Boon Companion, a small, demonic-looking homunculus that could be tasked with simple commands. The first assignment was always the most understood, with each subsequent request being carried out less and less precisely. And they always replied to Zuglah¡¯s orders with a salty tongue and a quip, which he quite enjoyed.


    But it was difficult to beat Desperate Measures, both for utility and in terms of pure fun. Desperate Measures, was what was referred to as a ¡°panic spell,¡± in that one could instantly cast it to buy themselves upwards of thirty seconds of respite from their current circumstances.


    How it worked was simple; upon execution, it wrapped the caster in a large, tear-drop shaped encasement of enchanted ice. If anyone or anything should so much as touch the ice, it would instantly shatter, creating an outwardly expanding ring of hoarfrost that immobilized everyone and everything in a five foot radius. If nobody touched it, the ice shattered after thirty seconds without exploding. Either way it did no physical damage, so Zuglah felt free to use it whenever he wanted.


    The only person who could reverse this spell on him was another Wizard that had The Ice Blade memorized. If someone hit him with The Ice Blade when he was a block of ice, both spells detonated instantly, and he would take a massive amount of damage from The Ice Blade. Fortunately, he did not intend on fighting many Wizards.


    For some reason, his conversation with Slorric kept coming to mind; Humans really didn¡¯t like letting Trolls become Wizards.

 Chapter Sixteen: "Looking For Group!"

    Chapter Sixteen: ¡°Looking For Group!!¡±


    On the walk downstairs to the courtyard, after saying goodbye to Chayah, Zuglah¡¯s good cheer suddenly vanished. The memory of Slorric¡¯s words returned, how the last Troll to learn Wizardry had discovered some racial advantage later in life that he had managed to exploit, and how he had quickly become an indomitable juggernaut after that. He had taken over the entire Horde, spreading hatred and being responsible for the disastrous third war with the Humans. Some even thought that he was trying to use the Horde to fuel his ambitions to walk the Higher Road.


    Zuglah kept telling him that had nothing to do with him, he was just going to make potions with Caldwell and maybe run the occasional dungeon. Slorric was quite sympathetic. ¡°Well, stick with him and you will be fine. Caldwell might be a boy at heart but he¡¯s a good friend to have.¡± Zuglah would certainly agree to that. The man had changed his life completely.


    When he arrived in the tower¡¯s large, walled-in courtyard, there was a sizable crowd gathered. Sallan, the Halfling Warlock was there, as well as the Driole Pliesson and the Forest Gnome, Gribnr. Those were all the people he knew, including instructors.


    Next to Gribnr were the Human Wizards, all of the lowest level ones, he assumed. There were seven of them, some beardless and nervous and others more long in the tooth. But also nervous.


    Beside the Human Wizards was a collection of what Zuglah could only describe as Melee class people. There were two or three archers, and perhaps a Rogue type here and there, but for the most part it was Elven (and half-Elven, judging by some of the smells he caught later) woman and men he was sure were Clerics mixed with Human Fighters, Paladins and Berserkers. He had learned to tell these low level versions of the classes apart during the weeks that he had watched Caldwell drag them through the Crypt.


    Talking to a young, tall Fighter with a gleaming breastplate and an equally shining shield, stood a massive Dwarven Fighter. He had huge arms and shoulders, bigger than the other man even though he wasn¡¯t wearing any armor. His hair was receding, but still reddish-orange like his beard. Something about the way Zuglah was peering down the line caught his eye, and he stopped speaking mid-sentence.


    Everyone fell silent as he came straight towards Zuglah. He was less than half as tall as Zuglah was, but he outweighed him by a good margin. ¡°So you would be our new Troll then?¡±


    There was no denying it, so he simply nodded and bowed his head politely. ¡°And do you usually go barehanded into battles?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°Quarterstaff.¡±


    The Dwarf nodded his head approvingly. ¡°Go on, then.¡± Zuglah saw that he was indicating a rack holding a selection of staves. He rushed over and picked what he thought looked like the heaviest one.


    The Dwarf addressed the entire group. ¡°My name is Foadan Gamstone, and I am here to teach you how to be a useful and productive member of any party. Now, who can tell me what it means to be in a party?¡± One of the Fighters stuck his hand up immediately. ¡°Yes, Scraps?¡±


    He stepped forward and declared, ¡°It¡¯s to make you roll for all the good loot.¡± All of the Fighters and Clerics laughed, as did some of the Human wizards.


    ¡°Yes, very clever. We all know how spoils are divided. Does anyone know the reason for groups?¡± He crossed his leg-sized forearms and waited. One of the older Humans slowly raised his hand, unsure of himself. Gamstone nodded to him.


    ¡°Is it sharing experience?¡± He shrugged.


    One of the youngest of the Human Wizards tried to help him out. ¡°Is it meeting new people, and making friends?¡±


    ¡°No it is not.¡± The Dwarf said, simply.


    ¡°Sharing buffs.¡± The small voice was from the far end of the line. So far, in fact, that it came from the spot right next to Zuglah.


    Once again, Foadan Gamstone stomped his way down the line. ¡°What was that?¡± He stood, waiting. Nobody answered.


    Finally, Zuglah couldn¡¯t take it any more. He pointed towards the Driole. ¡°He said it. Something about buffs.¡±


    Pliesson glared at him, his whiskers twitching. ¡°Why would you do that?¡±


    What could he say? He had to get over it sooner or later, if he was going to actually go crawling, as he claimed to want. ¡°He wasn¡¯t going away. Nobody else knew the answer. He¡¯s still waiting.¡±


    Still shaking his head, Pliesson turned to answer the instructor. ¡°The reason for a group is to focus the might of five party members into and through one individual, who we usually call the tank for his ability to absorb and deal a large amount of damage. Also because he is quite heavily armored, like the siege weapon of the same name.¡± He bowed to the Dwarf, then stepped back into line.


    ¡°Now that,¡± Gamstone said loudly to the group, ¡°was a proper Wizard¡¯s answer. And entirely correct.¡± The students laughed dutifully. Zuglah suspected that the Dwarf got a lot of laughs that he didn¡¯t really earn.


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    ¡°I¡¯m actually an Illusionist.¡± Pliesson said. It made little difference.


    ¡°The purpose of a group is to gather strength to defeat monsters and mobs that you would not otherwise be able to kill. If everyone in the party knows their role, and if everyone does their job correctly, there is no reason why you cannot have a successful outcome. And if you can do it in a sustainable way, that is, not burn every drop of your mana on your first fight, then you can win fight after fight after fight. And before you know it, you have taken down the Boss, and you¡¯re rolling for his favorite weapon. And that¡¯s what is known as a perfect run.¡± There were a lot of murmurs after this, as the Fighters all dreamed of glory and the Wizards riches.


    Gamstone told them how to accept an invitation to a group, and how to start a group of their own. Zuglah discovered that he needed to be within five tiers, or sylats of a person in order to group up. Not for the first time, he wondered how powerful Caldwell really was.


    For now though, he needed to get at least one tier if not two, so he could keep his promise to Chayah. There was no way he could leave her behind the next time he went looking for that inn, and if it turned into another Instance, he was pretty sure that she would need to be in his group in order to participate. Thinking back, neither Lord Stanish nor Ulbarth so much as acknowledged Caldwell, even though he was clearly much higher level. They had treated Zuglah as though he was alone.


    The class was divided into groups by demonstration. The young man in the shiny breastplate was accompanied by one of the half-elves, although this one was a man. Gamstone made them stand in front of the entire class. ¡°Now, Denton here has just put out a call looking for group members. Or, if he¡¯s smart, he will let Cleric Warwick do it, because that tells people ¡®We¡¯ve got a healer.¡¯ A lot of people will bail on a group if it doesn¡¯t have a healer, because if they are scarce it can take all day finding one. But not our brave heroes, because we have had proper training, and know not to start a party without one. So what else does our enterprise require?¡±


    A youngish Human raised his hand, stepping forward immediately. ¡°You need damage dealt.¡± He held a hand in front of himself and gestured with the opposite. It was a motion that every child in every realm knew, only unlike a child, when he did it a real-life Fireball appeared and began growing above his hand. The hot, translucent orange sphere expanded in the air, growing thinner and weaker-looking as it went. Before it was halfway large enough to throw, it popped like a soap bubble. There were appreciative murmurs and chuckles from the other Human Wizards as well as some others. All in all, Zuglah was impressed. It had been a decent attempt at a Fireball. He knew what he was doing.


    ¡°That is correct, of course. The real advantage to choosing a Wizard over the other classes is not because of their habit of throwing a Fireball into every corner with a shadow. It¡¯s portals. At higher skill levels, a Wizard won¡¯t even have to open a portal to an alternate Plane; they can simply summon you. It¡¯s damned convenient. Okay, Wizard, you¡¯re in.¡± He jerked his head towards the pair standing at the front. The young bearded man smiled in surprise, but quickly dashed over to take up his position. He beamed as though he had genuinely won the appointment. It seemed that his Fireball hadn¡¯t been entirely ineffectual after all. ¡°What else do we need?¡±


    ¡°More Fireballs.¡± Zuglah laughed as hard as anyone at that.


    But Foadan nodded approvingly. ¡°More damage means less wear and tear on your Fighter, which means less work for your Priest. And that translates into being ready to fight again sooner. What else?¡±


    People muttered, feet shuffling. Finally, ¡°Crowd control?¡±


    Gamstone spun, fixating on the Driole Enchanter. ¡°Yes! Less people in the fight means an easier time for your tank. Good crowd control is essential for a successful raid, especially at higher levels. You, my enchanting young friend, and your Necromancer colleague beside you there, are going to have a hard time finding groups in the beginning of your careers. But fret not, because by the time you are in your late teens you will be the most popular class in your guild. For now, go on and take your place.¡±


    Startled, Pliesson very hesitatingly broke away from the crowd to join the demonstration team. He looked out of place among so many Humans. But Foadan Gamstone looked at his newly formed party and nodded in approval. ¡°Now you see? This is a properly set-up group. You can fit the last slot with nearly any class you desire. Go on, shout one out. Any class.¡±


    ¡°Could you have a Paladin, or some other swordsman?¡± This was from one of the leather-clad Rogues, a thin, athletic looking man who was wearing a lot of daggers and a short sword.


    ¡°Sure you can. The extra healing can be tough for the Cleric, but it¡¯s a job they enjoy trying to keep up with, so for them it¡¯s considered a win. Plus it keeps them extra safe, having an extra meat-shield handy.¡± Again, big laughs. ¡°What else?¡±


    ¡°What about another Cleric? Would that work too?¡±


    ¡°Of course. Let¡¯s say that you have a lower level priest that you are trying to get ready for the big raid. So he needs a couple of levels? Let¡¯s not forget that Collin Kindin was a Cleric. One of the fiercest fighters and tanks you will ever meet. Clerics can fight, heal, crowd control, and never forget about the Undead. Don¡¯t leave home without one. But two is always better. My point is, you have Rangers, Hunters, Shadow Knights, Assassins, Mages, Sorcerers, Druids, Shamen, Witches and Necromancers, and probably twice as many sub classes once you climb a couple levels. They exist for a reason. Disarming traps, hunting bounty targets, detecting hidden passages. Speak to the Dead, Detect Magic, False Walls. All these spells or abilities have, at one time or another, led me to the rarest loot or most unique artifacts in the entire dungeon. There¡¯s always one, even in the lowest level runs. If you¡¯re the one to find it, then you get to loot it. No rolling.¡±


    There were murmurs of appreciation and lust from the students. Zuglah had to hand it to the Dwarf; he certainly knew his audience. ¡°Denton, Warwick. You have a range to choose from before you. Who¡¯s it going to be?¡±


    Their consultation was very brief. Warwick turned to the instructor and said, ¡°We¡¯d like the Troll, please.¡±


    A babble of voices invaded his mind, join us, Zuglah Glun. Join. He¡¯s huge let¡¯s get him some armor. Join us please, Wizard.

 Chapter Seventeen: The Kobold And The Kobeautiful

    Chapter Seventeen: The Kobold And The Kobeautiful


    Foadan Gamstone opened a cabinet near the weapons rack and retrieved a robe and a quarterstaff. Zuglah was shocked when the man opened two portals. The Dwarf was a Wizard? He looked like he could crush rocks in his bare hands.


    ¡°Okay, heroes through the portal on the left. The rest of you, on the right! Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll get your turn soon enough!¡± Zuglah didn¡¯t know what to expect, but he was obviously a little more comfortable around portals than many of his classmates. He stepped through.


    He found himself inside a vast cavern that was lit by an orange glow from below. It reflected off of glistening walls and vaulted, natural crystal ceilings, making for a spectacular view. He was standing on a thick, wide pathway of stone that led onwards into the distance. His awareness of the Fighter suddenly became much greater, and then the Cleric, Wizard and Enchanter. In front of them, the portal vanished.


    The stone pathway they stood on seemed to hang in midair, with fires and molten rock waiting below. A narrow bridge connected them to a wide circular platform that contained a large number of enemies. Kobolds.


    Some had black fur, others blonde, and although most had a mottled combination of both, the predominant color was a rusty red-brown. The faces were reminiscent of hyenas or perhaps foxes, with a vicious temperament and evil disposition. Their bodies were long and awkwardly balanced on two legs, and seemed to resent any attempt to fit clothes to their misanthropic frames.


    There was a burly Shaman in a feathered cape and bone armor, and he was leaning on a Curse Totem staff that radiated a green energy. Zuglah could see that the field of influence was nearly the entire circular platform. At least a dozen Kobold Savages, Bone Darts and Whistlers were waiting to fight them. Right in the center was a tall, thick-necked Kobold with a wooden shield and a wicked scimitar. The Shaman was focused on him. There was no chance of sneaking up on the group, because they were staring right at them.


    ¡°The fight won¡¯t start until we set foot on that platform. We all have to be on it before it starts, but the whole group will fall back behind the Shaman and the Rager when we approach. Once it starts, the Savages will try to swarm me and Warwick while the Darts and Whistlers keep you guys busy.¡± Everyone was nodding along.


    ¡°I might be able to help with the swarming a little.¡± Zuglah drew his knife and explained about the nasty thorns it produced.


    ¡°And after they break free, I can probably account for at least a couple.¡± Pliesson held out his tiny black hand, revealing a miniature carving of a pig. Nobody knew what it meant, but they agreed that he should use it.


    Zuglah opened his potions bag and handed Denton a Heal. He gave the other Wizard, whose name was Randall, a Mana Pot, as well as Pliesson and the Cleric. That only left him with two Mana Pots, unless he wanted to go digging through his Bag of Holding.


    He did, however, take out the bag and swap the quarterstaff for Redda Mo, who immediately began voicing his dire emotional wounds.


    ¡°Oh my Gods! Were you going to have this huge fight without me? I¡¯m not going to lie, this feels very last minute. Who are all these people?¡±


    The people in question were all wondering the same. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to explain why I have a talking quarterstaff.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Later would be the perfect time to explain. So Zuglah, you will be the opening attack with your snare, so you shall step onto the island last. Let¡¯s make today the day we clear this dungeon.¡± Randall thought that he should be the last one off the island, his reasoning being that although they were both Wizards, the Troll was much bigger, and probably tougher, than he was. Zuglah didn¡¯t mind, but Denton was a firm leader. ¡°We go with the order I¡¯ve assigned. Now let¡¯s begin.¡±


    Denton strode confidently onto the dirt platform and walked the twenty feet or so until he was standing in front of the Kobold Rager. The beast howled and beat its sword against the wooden shield attached to its shoulder. The other Kobolds all howled too, clashing weapons and hooting at Denton. He ignored it all, waiting until he was in position and looking the savage beast square in the eyes, before he drew his broadsword and raised his shield. He began to glow, as Warwick took a stance behind him. Zuglah thought it was a bold move.


    The Wizard Randall came off of the platform and took two steps to his left. He stopped there, staying as far away from the enemy as he possibly could. Pliesson shuffled forward and planted his own staff behind and just to the right of the Cleric.


    The Rager was standing dead center of the platform, with the Shaman some ten feet behind him. To his left and right were snarling, gnashing Kobolds wearing patchwork bone armor and blackened steel weapons. Everyone was focused on the enemy, so Zuglah drew Briarthorn and cast his Wall of Thorns just as he stepped onto the island. He could not include the Rager in the spell, because he was sure to strike Denton if he did. But he managed to snare every creature on the Rager¡¯s left hand side.


    Randall cast a level two wizard spell called Seek Metal, but for some reason he only created a single seeker, even though each subsequent little gremlin of electricity cost almost nothing compared to the spell itself. Seemed like a waste to Zuglah. Pliesson ran over to Randall¡¯s side and cast his Illusion, creating a glistening pig that squealed in fright as it ran. Zuglah could feel the urge to devour it, even though he was immune to the magical effects. Three of the Kobold Savages and one Bone Dart gave chase.


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    Denton was fighting the big Rager, both of them landing blows and taking damage. The Kobold was able to step back and hide behind his shield momentarily, and this gave his Shaman the opportunity he needed to wave his staff over the heads of his troops trapped inside the thorns. The snare vanished, and the Kobolds rushed around the side to fall upon the Cleric Warwick.


    Zuglah ran forward and swept the Kobolds with Blazing Inferno, the short-range fire spell that grew hotter the more mana you put into it. He put a heaping amount.


    Several of the Kobolds died right there, and the rest fled back around behind the Shaman to lick their wounds. Denton, harassed by bone arrows from the darkness, turned to shout something at Randall. The Rager took the opportunity to put the pommel of his sword right into Denton¡¯s face.


    The Savages had mostly abandoned the pig, some attacking Warwick from his left and others chasing Pliesson around, who was running and squealing worse than his illusion had done. Zuglah aimed Dancing Mana at the Kobolds chasing the Driole, and killed two. The third one he managed to catch with his staff, and simply knocked it off the edge into the fires below. ¡°Just stay close to me from now on,¡± he told the brown-furred Enchanter.


    Denton kept trying to overwhelm the Rager, rushing in and attacking for big damage. But he had to take hits to land them, and as soon as Warwick had him healed up, the Shaman also had the Rager back to full. It was quickly heading for a manaless fight.


    ¡°Find a place to hide, would you?¡± He told Pliesson. He blinked.


    As soon as he arrived behind the Shaman, Redda Mo was deflecting blades, and knocking wrists and ankles for all he was worth. Zuglah lunged forward and stuck the Shaman in his side twice with The Ice Blade. The bone armor kept his blade from sinking in deeply, but both blades detonated a moment later and the entire rib cage fell apart. The Shaman cast a ray of pure fire that caught Zuglah square in the chest.


    He had always been told that he was immune to normal fire, even though it still stung, and that he was resistant to the magical variety. The ring he wore was supposed to make that highly resistant. But that blast of fire burned, searing a hole in his robes and scorching his flesh. It hurt a lot. Zuglah snarled, and unleashed Blazing Inferno right back into the Shaman¡¯s face, and he turned it on the Kobolds behind him as well. They broke and ran. He sent The Ice Blade to speed them on their way, spreading a volley of Dancing Mana among the three that none survived.


    Zuglah turned back to the Shaman, but he was just being hit by Dancing Mana, which killed him. Zuglah unleashed his own Dancing Mana towards the couple Bone Darts that were still harassing them from the shadows, and the small arrows ceased. Zuglah aimed The Ice Blade into the back of the Kobold Rager, finally able to relax when it exploded and allowed Denton to lop off its head with a backhanded sweep. The fight was done.


    Immediately a portal opened. Foadan Gamstone strode through, and then the rest of the class. ¡°Now, I wouldn¡¯t call it a flawless victory, but it was not without its moments. Zuglah, was it? That was a turning point in the fight, what you did there. Also, something we¡¯re going to have to talk about later, you and I. About unteachables. But for now, well done. Denton, Warwick, both excellent. A short rest should have you both upright and moving forward. Randall, not bad but you should have worked with Pliesson. The two of you could have run that whole side of the room.¡±


    ¡°He would have had to stop fleeing, for me to work with. Or I would have to take up jogging.¡± Pliesson flinched when everyone laughed. Zuglah wanted to punch Randall right in his snout.


    ¡°You should have. You left him high and dry to go chasing strays. For his first fight ever, he did a sight better than you, if I recall. You didn¡¯t cast a single spell. Pliesson, you get a passing grade.¡± The Driole first looked embarrassed, then pleased with his review. His back was always curved, but still, he was standing just a bit taller.


    Foadan brought his staff down with a clunk, and it started to glow. Five tiny piles of silver appeared around the butt of the staff. ¡°Your reward. Loot up lads. Who wants to go next?¡±


    Denton was just leaning down to pick up his pile of silver, and he jumped up and stepped into Gamstone¡¯s line of sight. ¡°Hey, wait a minute. It¡¯s still our run, we can continue.¡±


    The Dwarf feigned surprise. ¡°Oh really? Are you sure? You have two first timers in your squad, after all.¡±


    Denton turned to address the group. ¡°Surely you want to continue? We¡¯re doing great. We could go for a clearance, I think.¡± He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, clearly excited. Warwick was beside him, echoing his assent.


    ¡°I know I can keep going. Randall, you¡¯re in, right?¡±


    The Human slowly looked the Driole up and down, then with a heavy sigh said, ¡°May as well. It might not end quite so lucky next time, but let us see how far we get. I honestly don¡¯t expect us all to get past the next round.¡± He once again looked pointedly at Pliesson.


    Zuglah was fed up. He looked towards the large Dwarf, who merely looked back with a raised eyebrow. He marched over to Randall. ¡°Hey Randall, can I see that Pot I gave you earlier?¡±


    Randall reached into his belt pouch and produced the small blue vial. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re going to take it back now? Afraid I¡¯ll outshine you again, and get the big kill?¡± Zuglah carefully plucked the potion from the Wizard¡¯s fingers.


    ¡°No, of course not. I just didn¡¯t want you to drop it when I punched you in the mouth.¡±

 Chapter Eighteen: Down With The Tihc-ness

    Chapter Eighteen: Down With The Tihc-ness


    Randall was red in the face and furious as he picked himself up off of the dirt floor. Zuglah hadn¡¯t hit him hard at all; he suspected that the man simply fell to end the fight. After all, Zuglah was as much taller than Randall, as Randall was taller than Pliesson.


    Still, Randall looked surprised when Zuglah offered him back his Mana Pot, but he took it. After a brief hesitation, he nodded thanks.


    Zuglah had dug out a few replacement Pots, along with the Heal for the one he had given Denton. He subtly replaced the quick draw slots in his potion sling so that he was at full strength. He also fished out the extra ring he had found, and gave it to Pliesson. ¡°Oh! Uh, thanks Zuglah. For the ring, too.¡±


    Once he was out of earshot, Zuglah said, ¡°Hey Redda Mo?¡±


    In a loud, obnoxious voice, the runestaff replied, ¡°Yes, Oh Mighty Blue Fist of Justice? How may I serve your Justice-ness, Oh Mighty Blue Fist?¡±


    ¡°First off, please stop that. Second, do you have that spell ready?¡±


    ¡°Of course I do,¡± Redda Mo said in a normal voice.


    ¡°Good. Right before he starts casting, I want you to hit Pliesson with it.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Knuckliness.¡± He considered stuffing the staff back into his Bag of Holding.


    The Dwarf and his gaggle of students had left by way of portal, back to the observation ledge. Denton led them back across the bridge, where they continued down the floating platform. The next doorway they saw was immense, with a keystone arch for a door frame and carved letters in what looked like a Bea Tihc language.


    ¡°Okay. Down these stairs are the Bea Tihc. They¡¯re tougher than the Kobolds, plus there are more of them. Also, beware of the archers. They must be our first priority. Zuglah, Randall. Are you both okay with taking the left and right again? Pliesson, I want you to watch Warwick and occupy any Bashers or Lungers that try to take him out. He¡¯s going to be a big target so long as those archers are active. We can¡¯t move against the Priest nor Shaman until they are all down. When they are, both of you Wizards focus on the Priest until he¡¯s out, then hit the Shaman. Leave the Bashers and Larrio to me.¡± Zuglah very much admired the grim fatality in Denton¡¯s voice. He sounded implacable, as though the fight were a foregone conclusion. Zuglah resolved to prove him right. His words had that effect.


    ¡°Hey Zuglah?¡± He turned to see Pliesson offering him a kerchief with something bloody inside.


    ¡°Oh, thank you, Pliesson. But I¡¯m not hungry right now. You go ahead.¡± He tried to turn back, but the Driole plucked his sleeve.


    ¡°No. I looted these, but I want you to have them. They bloom where the blood falls. It takes about five minutes, so you have to search after the short rest, not before.¡±


    Zuglah Identified the lopsided, blood-soaked flowers; Iron Blossom, reagent, Primary effect: stone¡¯s throw. Secondary effect: ???.


    ¡°Wow, these are great, Pliesson. If we make it past the next battle, let¡¯s look together, okay?¡± Pliesson looked very happy at the thought. Zuglah could not wait to find out what Stone¡¯s Throw was.


    The pair followed the rest of their party down the stone staircase that seemed to be leading them underground, despite originating from a floating strip of rock that was already deep within a cavern of some kind. The door at the bottom was wooden, but fit for the front of a castle or a city gate. It took all of them to lift the huge wooden beam that lay across the door frame as a crude lock. Even unlocked, the door moved ponderously slow.


    When they entered the room, Zuglah laughed. There must be some mistake. There were around twenty people waiting for them, all of them wearing armor and carrying steel weapons.


    The Bea Tihc were a primitive tribe of Humans, mostly forest hunters and planeswalkers. But these men and women were wearing chain armor and wielding crossbows. The Priest had a huge, two-handed maul resting on the stone in front of him. The Shaman¡¯s Curse Totem staff was redolent in charms and buffs, and Zuglah could see several curses strewn among the other ribbons. He could make out The Jackals even from this distance, and he shuddered.


    In the middle, dominating everything, was Larrio. He stood at least nine feet tall, a drooling, ferocious Bugbear with ferrous-yellow teeth and bloodshot eyes that screamed for murder. His torso had been shaved down enough to wrap a double-wide barrel around him and call it a breastplate. He was holding a huge two-handed glaive as his weapon, and in the other hand he held a thick, oak dining table by one leg as a shield. His wolf-like head was unhelmed. Leave Larrio to him? What the heck was Denton planning for that monster?


    To the Bugbear¡¯s left and right were three Bashers and one Lunger per side. The Bashers had two handed, iron-studded clubs and the Lungers each had, incongruously Zuglah thought, rapiers.


    He saw what Denton meant about the archers. There were two stone balconies overlooking the room, each holding five men with heavy crossbows. The men were wearing chainmail and had iron helmets. It was too much. How were they supposed to deal with all of this?


    He remembered Denton¡¯s instructions. His job was to take out those five crossbows so he could somehow attack the two big support guys. They both looked tough as well.


    Once again Denton strode fearlessly into the center of the room. He stood before Larrio with his shield up and his sword undrawn. Larrio swung the table down, overhand style, and smashed it against the floor where Denton had been standing an instant before. Has the fight somehow started? Zuglah felt like he was already behind.


    Denton had thrown himself forward in a diving shoulder roll, coming up, sword in hand, well inside the Bugbear¡¯s guard. His broadsword sliced a neat little bleeder into the beast¡¯s thigh that had it roaring in agony. A second later, his wound was glowing with a golden light, and he was standing on the leg again easily. Not fair! That move deserved to be rewarded.


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    Redda Mo startled him so badly that he nearly dropped him. He screamed ¡°AGGRESSION!¡± Everyone in the place turned to look, as Pliesson took on a soft purple-blue hue.


    ¡°What in the Seven Holy Hells was that?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s how I cast spells. Why, how do you do it?¡±


    Over beside Randall, Pliesson had been casting an Illusion of some kind, he assumed. But he was fussing about in his pouch instead. He withdrew a small figurine and put it to his lips. He whispered something.


    A large, heavy-shouldered gorilla materialized in front of the Bashers, roaring. The three men went pale and fled. The gorilla gave chase.


    At the same time, Randall strode forward and stacked his hands one atop the other, pinkie of the top one touching the thumb of the lower. The Wizard¡¯s symbol for Lightning. A jagged, white-hot bolt hummed as it materialized in front of Randall. It was impossibly long, connecting his hand instantly to the first crossbowman. The bolt then jumped to the second, third, fourth and fifth man in rapid succession. When the first man raised his crossbow unsteadily, Randall fired a stream of Dancing Mana at the man that Zuglah at first thought was overkill. The first bullet detonated upon impact, and that was enough to eliminate him. Then, the entire stream of bullets changed direction and streaked for the second man. When he dropped, the third man became the target, the fourth and fifth dropped the same way.


    ¡°How did you do that?¡± Zuglah asked.


    Randall turned to grin at him. ¡°Did you see that, Zuglah Glun?¡±


    Zuglah started shouting at him to run. Warwick was shouting as well. What Randall had failed to notice in his excitement was that the Bugbear had broken off his frustrating fight with Denton and was striding directly for him. He turned just in time to be skewered like a cut of steak on the end of Larrio¡¯s glaive. Zuglah saw an orange-red ribbon floating in the air near Randall, and had a sinking feeling he knew what it was.


    Warwick was shouting to Randall to hold on, that he was going to help him. Zuglah knew that it was beyond that now.


    Larrio flicked his glaive towards the ribbon just as it touched the ground. Three huge phantom jackals were waiting as Randall slid off of the blade and arced through the air. They snapped him up and tore him apart. Zuglah hadn¡¯t even moved yet.


    He decided it was past time he acted. He could not match Randall¡¯s feat, not with the lightning nor the trick with the Dancing Mana. He decided to stick with what he knew. He drew his knife and summoned The Ice Knife, sending it flying at the first three archers closest to him. They came and went so fast when cast with a dagger that Zuglah barely had time to aim before the next was away.


    At nearly the same instant, all three of the archers turned their shoulders with unnatural speed. Not one of his Ice Knives hit, all three exploding harmlessly against the wall behind them. They practically ignored him, training their crossbows on the Fighter and Priest. Zuglah unleashed a barrage of Dancing Mana, six bullets strong, all aimed at the first archer. Dancing Mana did not miss.


    All six bullets struck him, staggering him. Zuglah already had The Ice Knife streaking through the air, and this time it nailed him. As he glowed white with hoarfrost, he also held a deeper, golden glow that warmed him from within. Zuglah turned to see the Priest smiling in self satisfaction.


    The Bashers beside him had been busy with the Gorilla, but soon he faded from the battlefield. Zuglah was startled to see the Lunger transform into a tall, blue-skinned and blue haired Troll. The Bashers were startled too, but soon rallied and did what they did best. They Bashed. Watching the zeal with which they attacked his doppelganger kinda hurt Zuglah¡¯s feelings a little.


    He decided that the Priest had to go. Waving Briarthorn towards the balcony, he summoned the Wall of Thorns right on top of them. There was nowhere to go, they couldn¡¯t even jump clear. Although they could still shoot, the thorns were toxic and every scratch delivered a sedative designed to lull them into a fatal slumber. Their shots all went awry. They began struggling frantically with the vines.


    Zuglah was staring directly at the Priest, who was staring right back. He pointed his knife at the man, furious. The deeply tanned planeswalker smiled, and settled the huge maul on his shoulder. The invitation was clear, even if most of his trap had been nullified.


    Zuglah sent the man a stream of Dancing Mana, and then he blinked.


    The mana bullets struck the Priest, but he was too busy spinning around in a circle looking for Zuglah. The faint clap from his spell did not help either, just told him that Zuglah was somehow very close. The Dancing Mana buffeted him repeatedly, and he lost his brilliant aura. So did the Bugbear. Others started looking about as well. Zuglah had not reappeared.


    To be clear, he actually had. He had blinked directly between the Priest and the Shaman, but at the same time as he landed, he had used Veiled Shadows. It was an extremely tricky feat to pull off, because if he was a hair too soon the blink would instantly nullify the Shadows and he would reappear. If he was even an instant too late, then there would be a telltale flicker to indicate that he had indeed arrived and was currently up to no good.


    But the timing to actually blink away and appear to simply stay gone, was fine, to say the least. It made the precision of Shocking Touch seem sloppy in comparison. The timing was so utterly strict that he had finally come up with the idea of making them both into one spell. The Veiling was simply the final act in the sequence now. And it worked.


    He only had a moment to contemplate the rugged Priest. Zuglah knew that he had to go all in. Nothing less was going to help against him.


    He was vaguely aware of Pliesson, off in the corner facing the rest of the Bashers, who were angry about having been duped into killing their own friends. The Driole summoned a wall of flames in front of himself that flared briefly then subsided. The Bashers thought that the flames dying down would be their opportunity, so they rushed in only to find the flames had revealed a Wall of Stone. They were stuck sliding into the base of the wall, no hope of avoiding it as the large mason¡¯s stones tumbled down upon them with sickening crunching noises instead of screams.


    He turned back to the Priest and stabbed him right in the side of his head with The Ice Knife, then he mana dumped into Blazing Inferno. The Priest¡¯s entire head experienced what could only be described as catastrophic failure at that point, and he died in hideous fashion.


    Zuglah didn¡¯t even get to use all his mana. The Priest perished, and he relented on the Inferno. He stopped on his own, but if he had not the crossbow quarrel that caught him right under his elbow, certainly would have convinced him. Another bolt blossomed in his chest. He looked down, wondering idly where it might have come from. He didn¡¯t realize that the first bolt had spun him around, and he was now facing the opposite direction. His vision dimmed, his hearing faded out. He felt the floor caress his cheek, cool and soft against his flesh.

 Chapter Nineteen: Loot Gobblin

    Chapter Nineteen: Loot Gobblin¡¯


    Zuglah couldn¡¯t breathe. It was too painful. The bolt had missed his heart, but just barely. It didn¡¯t feel like it had missed his lung though. He could feel blood filling it, weighing it down. He tried to move his arms but they were too heavy. It was impossible. He needed to reach his potions.


    And then, Blessed Light. He didn¡¯t feel scared or hurt, only warmth and golden sunlight. He didn¡¯t even feel the urge to gasp for air any longer. Distantly, he heard a soft tink and then another tink. He knew that those were the sounds of the bolts falling out of his body.


    He took a deep gasp of air that didn¡¯t seem to stop. It kept filling and filling him until he was light headed and seeing stars. He was standing.


    Denton was there, holding him up by the shoulders. So that¡¯s how he was up. He could not focus on his words because of the roaring in his ears. His head still spun, but he knew one thing for certain. He was pissed.


    He didn¡¯t look at Denton, or search around for Redda Mo. He simply walked over to the edge of the platform closest to the balcony and unleashed Blazing Inferno upon all of the archers.


    Zuglah only thought he had dumped mana before. Now, he pushed everything he had into the flames, not looking to extend them for even a second. The mana was all to make the fire hotter.


    It was over in seconds. The archers were no more. Whether there was any trace of them on the balcony¡¯s stone floor nobody was interested in finding out. A large section of the railing had melted, and stone was dripping like candle wax into the molten river below. Zuglah staggered as he turned around, surprised to find himself face to face with Pliesson.


    The Driole clung to his sleeve and turned away, pulling Zuglah after him. He paused briefly and then handed Zuglah his quarterstaff. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°You dropped me again.¡± Redda Mo said pointedly. At least his hearing was back to normal. He realized why he was so dizzy, and reached into his belt pouch. He drank his first Mana Pot.


    It was like waking from a dream. What Warwick¡¯s Blessed Light had done for his body, the Mana Pot did for his mind. He instantly assessed the entire room, noting that everyone was down on the opposite side except for the Shaman and Larrio. Denton and Warwick were holding their own. Zuglah thought they could do better.


    First, he used a Blast of Frost to slow down the Bugbear¡¯s daunting speed. Not that Denton seemed to need the edge, but Zuglah wanted to increase the skill gap as much as he could. Next, he unleashed a never-ending barrage of Dancing Mana upon the Shaman. He sent a stream of mana bullets that crashed into him, one after another, until finally Denton danced in close and rammed his sword through him. The Shaman dropped dead.


    Zuglah still had Dancing Mana in the air. He pushed them through the target, onto the Bugbear. The concise blue spheres banked as they flew, catching Larrio in the back over and over. Zuglah continued sending.


    Denton did not need the help. When it came to pure skill, Larrio was outmatched. He had strength, reach and size on his side, but Denton appeared to have his number. The huge glaive did not really come near to him at any point, but the Fighter scored hit after hit. The Dancing Mana kept Larrio staggered, which helped. Finally, Denton was able to put him away with a mighty leap and a slash that very nearly chopped his head off.


    ¡°Gods, that felt good!¡± Denton was fired up.


    Zuglah kept drawing deep breaths, putting his hand on his chest where the bolt had been. There wasn¡¯t so much as a twinge.


    ¡°First time?¡± He turned to Warwick, who was smiling. ¡°You got mad. That¡¯s a pretty common reaction, actually.¡± He pointed up at the ruined balcony. ¡°The Healing takes away the memory of the wound as well. Wouldn¡¯t be much good if it didn¡¯t. We¡¯d all have so much trauma we¡¯d be functionally insane.¡±


    ¡°It felt pretty amazing. Thanks for that, by the way.¡± The Cleric nodded.


    ¡°That was a close call, Zuglah. But good job.¡± Denton was grinning.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame about Randall. They¡¯ll bring him back, right?¡± It was school, after all.


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    ¡°Will Wizard Gamstone come down, do you think? Also, I¡¯m pretty sure Randall¡¯s already back with the other students.¡± Pliesson pointed up to the ledge far above them. Sure enough, it seemed like that was Randall, right in the front. He saw them look up and waved. He shook both his fists in the air, cheering.


    ¡°Seems to be over his recent death. I gotta say he¡¯s taking it well.¡± The Fighter turned to Pliesson. ¡°I don¡¯t think Gamstone will be back until we quit or win.¡± Denton looked like he could keep going all day. ¡°So what do you guys think? You want to go fight a giant, three-headed dog, or what?¡± It looked like their short rest was over.


    Zuglah and Pliesson searched for Iron Blossoms and found quite a few. Denton and Warwick searched the bodies on the platform, while Zuglah blinked up to the balcony that Randall had cleared and searched those bodies. He found three Heals and a little over seventeen gold pieces.


    The others did significantly better. Zuglah added his offerings to the growing pile on top of Larrio¡¯s corpse; sixteen platinum, two hundred and fourteen gold, six Heal Pots, two light green potions called Hasty Decisions. There were seven rings, two swords and three daggers. Two crossbows and three arrow quivers. There was also the great glaive, the maul and the Staff, which looked significant after the Cleric bashed it against the wall to remove the Curse Totems and the bleached bulls horns that they had hung from. Zuglah looked down at the ribbon that still hung from his own chest. Lose a fortune. That felt like he was getting off light, compared to the alternatives.


    Zuglah cast Detect Magic over the loot pile. There was a lot of glow coming from the rings and some of the arrows. The glaive was mundane, but the Maul and the Staff both lit up with firm pulses.


    ¡°I know you''re only a beginner, Zuglah,¡± Denton began.


    ¡°Hard to believe.¡± Warwick muttered half under his breath.


    ¡°But do you think you can figure out what some of this stuff is?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm.¡± Zuglah picked up a vial of Hasty Decisions and Identified it. Hasty Decisions, heightened reflexes and increased initiative; cannot be surprised. He held it up to the light and peered at the color. ¡°This appears to have something to do with Initiative, if I had to guess. Speed too, probably.¡± He picked up a glowing ring with a red aura. It was a second before he could Identify it. Watch Yer Ankles, detect traps within twelve feet. ¡°I¡¯m getting some sort of a detection device. Poison maybe¡­?¡± He held up the ring to his eye and peered through the center. No, that was nothing and he looked stupid. He held it to his nose and sniffed. When he touched it to his tongue, he distinctly saw Warwick make a face from the corner of his eye. ¡°Traps. Definitely, it¡¯s Detect Traps.¡±


    This was harder than it looked. There were so many items left. He figured maybe he should start with the most important. He picked up the staff. Horned Staff, extra damage against beasts. ¡°Well the bad news is, you¡¯re going to have to put the horns back on.¡±


    Sternhammer, +2 maul, Radiant Blessing, Bathed In Light, once per short rest.


    ¡°That¡¯s amazing. I believe that¡¯s a Group Heal.¡± Warwick was practically drooling.


    There were five arrows with varying effects. Sleet, freezing rain ten foot radius, Bonerobber, make everyone within a six foot radius fall down. Stuck, uncloseable wounds, bleed for an hour. Slow, makes enemy slower. And a good old Fire Arrow, explodes on impact, setting flames in six foot radius. Caldwell had told him that a Wizard did not need to even use a bow or crossbow with these special arrows, but he had not explained what he meant.


    There were also three more rings; protection from fire, Infravision, and Protection. The protection ring was by far the most valuable, although both of the Humans expressed their admiration for the Infravision as well.


    ¡°I think that we should just give the Ring of Protection to Warwick, since he¡¯s our most valuable asset.¡± Zuglah said. Pliesson nodded, and both Denton and Warwick looked surprised.


    ¡°I¡­ thank you. But it is not necessary.¡± He held up his left hand where an identical ring resided. It seemed like the ring was a fairly common drop.


    Denton said, ¡°If we¡¯re going by need, which I endorse, by the way, then I vote we give Protection to Pliesson. He is our most vulnerable member.¡± There were no complaints.


    ¡°If everyone is agreed, we will loot by need rules. Does everyone know what those are?¡± Zuglah had no idea, so Denton explained. ¡°It means that priority is given to whomever needs it the most, until the end of the run. Then, everyone puts their loot back on the pile and we roll as usual. The only difference, besides getting to use that crazy maul, would be the arrows and potions. We use them now. Also, this way Randall still gets to roll.¡± Everyone was on board, agreeing that Randall¡¯s part in their victory deserved to be acknowledged..


    Pliesson took the staff, even though he said he preferred his wand, and he put on the ring with effusive thanks to the party. They also gave him two Heals and Watch Yer Ankles.


    They gave Warwick the protection from fire ring and the magic bolts, since he was the only person with a crossbow. He loaded up Stuck, and hung it on his back.


    Denton took the huge maul, because he was the only one with the strength to wield it. Zuglah thought that he could probably manage the thing, but he had absolutely no skill with such a weapon.


    Everybody started clamoring when Zuglah passed on taking any of the Heals, until he showed them the contents of his pouch. They were more than a little flabbergasted, which led him to believe that maybe he had a larger collection than he strictly needed.


    Denton uncorked a vial of Hasty Decisions and passed it to Zuglah. Then he uncorked the other and held it up. They clinked vials like they were tankards. ¡°To Bulgo and Sarna. May they meet their fate this day.¡± Zuglah vaguely wondered who Bulgo and Sarna were as he upended the vial into his belly. He instantly felt the kick.


    It was time to meet the Boss.

 Chapter Twenty: See Spot Jump

    Chapter Twenty: See Spot Jump


    There were no more side corridors. No stone bridges, no arching doorways leading down to some crowd of murderous thugs. Instead, the platform led to a large, two hundred foot gap that had an elevated platform at the far end. It was low enough and far enough away that they could see the whole thing. It was definitely floating in the air.


    There was a massive Cyclops, easily twice as tall as the Bugbear had been, and heavy. He had a big belly and chest, powerful arms and thick, stocky legs. His bulk and the distance actually made it difficult to judge his size correctly.


    He was holding the leash to an equally monsterous black and brown dog that stood almost twelve feet high at the shoulder. The leash led to three thick leather belts wrapped around the three necks that supported the dog¡¯s heads. The Cyclops was forced to pull ruthlessly on the leash to keep the animal from charging. All three heads started barking, causing a distant but still quite loud ruckus.


    Denton stopped the group beside a stone marker like the ones found at crossroads, but ancient looking. ¡°Okay troops. This is it. If you told me that my first time leading a party against Bulgo would be with a tier two Wizard and a tier three Illusionist, I would have called you deranged. But I have to admit that we¡¯re doing well. Shockingly well. All we need to do is beat Sarna, and we¡¯re done. He¡¯s tough and strong, but he¡¯s also slow and stupid. Any one of the dog¡¯s heads could outsmart him, but hopefully we can kill Bulgo without too much trouble.¡±


    He told them how he had only been this far once before; the group had wiped on this spot. From what he remembered, the dog was vulnerable to all forms of magic, but had a ton of hit points. His far right head spewed a Cone of Cold, the middle one puked a sticky green acid, and the head on the left, Fire. Once all three heads were dead, a statement that Zuglah found vaguely disturbing, a pathway would materialize and they could proceed to battle Sarna.


    ¡°I have a way to get us all onto the platform right now, if you want. Why don¡¯t we just go kill the Cyclops?¡± Zuglah was thinking about the Jump potion he had in his sling.


    But Denton wsa shaking his head. ¡°The dog can span the gap. Then we¡¯d just be fighting them both at once.¡±


    ¡°I think I can fix that.¡± Denton stared at him for a long moment as if trying to divine his thoughts. Finally, he nodded.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you have in mind, but I trust you. And I think it¡¯s worth the risk, if we can eliminate the beast. But if it goes wrong, it¡¯s going to go very, very wrong. Know that.¡± The nods were somber, faces serious. Everybody was excited to try this. Zuglah could feel the potion surging within him.


    They lined up along the invisible divide, four across, and Zuglah took a sip of Jump. He passed the vial to Warwick, who drank quickly then passed it to Pliesson. After him, Denton strode forward while finishing off the potion. When Zuglah turned forward, Bulgo was already galloping towards them.


    ¡°Get ready.¡± Denton was trotting now, and Zuglah broke into a run to keep up. So did the others. Bulgo leapt. ¡°Not yet!¡±


    Denton waited until Bulgo was at the height of his leap, and he shouted, ¡°Now! Everybody on Sarna!¡± The Cyclops was lumbering backwards to the rack of throwing spears. Denton leapt, and soared upwards farther even than the great dog had jumped. The Cleric leapt next, not nearly as vigorously as the Fighter, but he landed solidly. Pliesson actually ran along on all fours for two quick steps before he leapt, and he quite easily surpassed Warwick. Zuglah Shadow blinked.


    As predicted, the three-headed monstrosity snarled in frustration when it saw his prey leap away from him. Well, Zuglah hadn¡¯t predicted that so much as the dog immediately turning about in pursuit. It ran as hard as it could towards the edge of the platform, needing every ounce of speed it could muster to make the return jump. Right before Bulgo¡¯s last two steps, Zuglah cast his Blast of Frost as widely as he could.


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    The great dog¡¯s middle head and left hand one both saw him as he reappeared, and the flame-breathing dog tried to spew fire at him, but he had too much momentum. Too much and not enough. The Blast of Frost slowed the dog¡¯s speed, but it could do nothing for its inertia. With a futile leap, it gracefully soared out, then down into the abyss of fire. Zuglah was overjoyed.


    When he blinked up to the top platform, he found the battle fully in progress. Denton was standing directly in front of Sarna, swinging the maul and knocking away the huge spear Sarna was jabbing with. To his left was a gigantic Kodiak bear that looked tiny in front of the Cyclops, roaring and swiping with its claws. The bear was most likely a harmless illusion, but it looked dead solid and would definitely help confuse and distract Sarna.


    Zuglah immediately drew his dagger and launched The Ice Knife at Sarna. The hoarfrost was an excellent debuff that would allow Denton to use his speed against him more effectively. Sarna tried to swat the streaking shard of ice away but it was too fast. It struck him mid-chest, followed half a second later by a series of Dancing Mana slugs. Sarna reeled.


    In his confusion and desperation, he spun about and tried to launch a sneak attack against the bear. His spear met no resistance as he thrust it into the middle of the huge illusion, and caused him to lose balance. It was enough for Denton to land a blow to his leg that broke it completely. Sarna went down, and the Fighter delivered the final blow as if it was just part of a combo.


    Denton bowed his head for a moment, and everything went silent. Then, he turned to face the observation platform and raised Sternhammer above his head. He let out a roar of triumph that Zuglah thought was completely appropriate. The watching students took up a cheer that almost reminded him of Bulgo¡¯s barking; distant but still really loud.


    A portal opened, and two dozen students poured through, still cheering wildly. They mostly gathered around Denton and Warwick, but a surprising number of people, including the Humans, mobbed Zuglah and Pliesson as well. Everyone was cheering and slapping them on the back. Zuglah stood there, letting the good feelings wash over him.


    Foadan Gamstone strode through the portal, arms crossed. He let the glowing green opening vanish, which did more to draw the students¡¯ attention than anything short of a thunderclap might. Denton and Warwick came over to stand with Zuglah and Pliesson. Zuglah spotted Randall in the crowd, and motioned him to come and join them. He shook his head.


    ¡°Denton. Let¡¯s get Randall.¡± As soon as he said it, Denton moved. Man of action indeed. At that point, Randall could either come along, or fight him. He made the right choice and came with. Gamstone nodded his approval.


    ¡°Zuglah Glun.¡± The red-bearded, cube of a man declared. Any chatter ceased. ¡°That was as tidy a bit of Wizarding as I have seen in this particular dungeon. The real goal of Wizardry is not the pursuit of power, but of knowledge. You truly exemplified that here today. I do believe that is the first time that Bulgo has ever been defeated by cantrip. Now, if you gentlemen would please go open your chest, we can go back to the tower and talk about who¡¯s going next.¡±


    The crowd parted to create a path towards the rack of spears. Braced around the back side was a large, ornate chest that pulsed with a soft silver hue. There were many appreciative murmurs, as Foadan Gamstone was the only person present who had even seen it before. Denton knelt reverently in front of the chest and looked towards the group. ¡°Thank you. I honestly thought that it was too late for me, but clearing Spellman¡¯s Caverns on the run that raises me to gyiol sazal is honestly the best gift you could have given me. I don¡¯t even care what¡¯s in here. You guys were all amazing.¡±


    The class started clamoring for him to open the chest. Laughing, he pushed the heavy, lacquered lid up. His smile fell away. ¡°I take it back.¡±


    Resting on two dark-wood, highly polished display arms was a beautiful sword. The handle was long enough to use with two hands, and the pommel displayed a demonic looking face peering back at him. The cross guard was golden and had graceful curves that made the weapon look delicate. The blade was fine, long and sharp. Zuglah Identified.


    The Exquisite Phantom, savage attacks, exquisite defense. Useable by any class.


    ¡°Sweet baby.¡± Someone whispered. ¡°It¡¯s Phantom.¡±


    ¡°Gross.¡± That was from Redda Mo.

 Chapter Twenty One: I Feel The Need For Greed

    Chapter Twenty One: I Feel The Need For Greed


    Zuglah went directly to Wizard Gamstone and asked, ¡°Do you mind if Pliesson and I do a quick sweep for Iron Blossoms? There wasn¡¯t a lot of blood, but you never know.¡±


    The Dwarf shook his head. ¡°No Blossoms. Not this time. Grapes.¡± He pointed to the edge of the platform. Zuglah walked over to where he had pointed but could see nothing. He looked back at the instructor, but he simply shrugged. Apparently that was all the help he was going to get. He noticed that when Wizards taught, they never gave you the answers directly. When asked a question, the best they would do is say ¡°The answer is over here, somewhere.¡± Caldwell had very much been the same.


    Pliesson, who had been listening to the exchange, called out. Not just Zuglah, but everyone took interest. The Driole had earned a lot of cachet with his peers, it would seem. When Zuglah trotted over to where he was laying down on the edge of the platform, Denton, Warwick and Randall, along with basically the entire class, came over to see what he had discovered.


    The grapes were hanging underneath the platform. Although they weren¡¯t grapes, they were spores. They looked so much like purple grapes with a cowl of lichen that he could see exactly where the name came from. He Identified.


    Bearded Grapes, reagent. Primary effect: ring of fire. Secondary effect: ???.


    Wow. It was some sort of a fire shield, maybe? Or an incendiary? He¡¯d really hate to mistake one for the other.


    Either way, he was about to have more of it. Denton and the other group members all started scouring the edge of the platform for more of the grapes. Others attempted to join in, but Gamstone began bellowing at once, and sent them all through a portal back to the tower.


    ¡°Zuglah Glun.¡± He stood up carefully, so as not to break the delicate spores. ¡°That blink spell of yours. Caldwell teach it to you?¡±


    ¡°What an odd way of putting that.¡± Redda Mo observed. ¡°Of yours?¡±


    ¡°Yes, he did. It was the first spell I ever learned. Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s unteachable. I can¡¯t do it. Nobody can. Blink is a fifth level spell, and we don¡¯t even have access to it until level ten. Blink is not a cantrip. Except that Caldwell, one day, comes into the tower and says ¡®Hey everyone, I think Blink is actually a cantrip.¡¯ We all laughed at him, and then a couple of days later he figured it out. Starts popping all over the place without so much as a ding dang doe. And even he can¡¯t step directly into Veiled Shadows. That, my tall blue friend, might just be the most impressive thing you did today.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been practicing. It¡¯s tough because the ring takes a while to come back to life.¡± He figured that he could use it about once a fight, unless it was a really long scrap.


    They had a lot of stuff to carry. Even the glaive and giant spears were worth a lot of gold, and the lads definitely wanted to sell it all. When Denton approached him with a kerchief full of Bearded Grapes, Zuglah held up his hands. ¡°Those are exotic potion ingredients. They are worth a ton of money. Keep it, it¡¯s your loot.¡± The others had gathered, and Randall stepped forward.


    ¡°No, you have them. For the Pots.¡± He opened Zuglah¡¯s sling, and carefully put them inside. The others did too. He thanked them, and told them that he would make what he could of these, and share them around. They started to protest, until he mentioned the phrase ¡°Ring of Fire,¡± and then they were singing a different tune. About how maybe they were willing to ¡®give them a try¡¯ after all. He decided not to tell them about Stone¡¯s Throw, keeping it as a surprise.


    They carried everything, including the elaborate chest containing the sword, through the portal. Zuglah was surprised to find the courtyard completely dark. They had been in Spellman¡¯s Cavern all day. The rest of the students had left. When Zuglah remarked to Pliesson that he was looking forward to the following class to see who was going next, Gamstone turned to him and said, ¡°You are.¡±


    The others explained to him that The Exquisite Phantom was a unique item, and the rarest loot in the dungeon. Once it was finally found, the dungeon would be changed for something else. As the team that beat the last Boss, they would have the honors of the inaugural run.


    ¡°I wish I could be there for that. I will definitely come and watch, though.¡± Denton sounded like he really did want to be there. Zuglah was not so sure, himself. Warwick, who was also tier six now, said that he would jump into Zuglah¡¯s party any time, all he had to do was tell him where and when. Denton agreed. ¡°If I find a quest or dungeon, you can be sure that I¡¯m going to come looking for you. Both of you.¡± He indicated Pliesson, who had helped him immensely with Sarna.


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    ¡°Gentlemen.¡± Foadan Gamstone pronounced loudly. ¡°I have known Denton Stelgard for nigh onto ten years. You can bargain in good faith with him. He¡¯s like an ugly Paladin or something. Congratulations on a very good run. And enjoy the stairs.¡± He opened a portal and was gone.


    ¡°So that¡¯s why Wizards love towers!¡± Redda Mo said. ¡°Because they don¡¯t have to climb the stairs, but everybody else does.¡± Zuglah thought he may have been onto something.


    ¡°Sit down, guys. I need to talk to you,¡± Denton said. Zuglah sat down around the huge pile of loot cross-legged, with Redda Mo across his lap. Denton was across from him, and he was balancing Phantom on the tips of his fingers. ¡°The Exquisite Phantom.¡± He said it with reverence, so softly that even Zuglah had to strain to hear it in the noisy courtyard. ¡°For a caster, this would be a career-making weapon. Myself, I hope to have skill equal to this blade one day. If I won the roll, I would very likely be forced to sell it. As would Warwick. So what I propose is this.¡± He reached out to the loot pile and picked up Sternhammer, placing it in front of the Priest. His eyebrows shot up.


    ¡°Are you sure? We didn¡¯t even roll.¡± Everyone nodded.


    ¡°Need before greed.¡± Randall said. ¡°I will also not be rolling. I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m saying this, but you guys deserve it and I don¡¯t.¡± He looked downright miserable. Zuglah regretted punching him.


    ¡°So I guess that means congratulations, Pliesson.¡±


    The Driole looked up at Zuglah and said, ¡°What? Me? What do you mean? You should obviously have it, Zuglah. You killed Bulgo single handed.¡± He kept trying to push the sword away, but Zuglah took it from Denton and held it out towards him.


    ¡°Pliesson, I already have a career defining weapon. I don¡¯t need two. Besides, swords are gross.¡±


    Redda Mo¡¯s reaction was subdued. Reserved, even. ¡°YES! This is why I am Team Zap Captain for life! Oh, I¡¯m so relieved. I thought I was going to have to kill my master again. I can¡¯t go back to prison. I can¡¯t!¡± He started fake sobbing, so Zuglah opened the potion sling and withdrew his Bag of Holding. He dropped the runestick inside unceremoniously.


    ¡°That¡¯s a sweet Bag.¡± Warwick said admiringly.


    ¡°Potion sling, too. Real hardcore crawler gear.¡± Randall had gotten a peek inside.


    Zuglah briefly told them about Caldwell, and how much he owed the man. ¡°I gave him some potion ingredients, and he gave me a new life.¡±


    They all agreed that Randall could have ¡®the ugly staff,¡¯ and Denton told Zuglah that he should take Watch Yer Ankles! to help with the new dungeon. He was also awarded all of the magic bolts, which he tried to share with Denton.


    ¡°You¡¯re the long range fighter, not me. Use them in good health.¡± Randall showed him how one of his side pockets had been designed for quick access to bolts the same way the bandolier held battle-ready potions. There was a similar pocket just for arrows.


    Denton and Warwick packed all of the great weapons and various bits of armor that they had thought they could sell, and put the ornate chest onto the bed of a hand cart. Then they each took one end of the contraption, gave a final wave, and set off, pushing. The three casters turned to climb the tower.


    Randall was housed on the floor below them, and they could all hear the great roar that went up among the Humans when he entered. They were glad for him.


    Their own reception was a much more casual affair. The Elves were sprawled out over the common area again, and Zuglah suspected that this was probably their habit of an evening. They began a sober round of applause the second that Zuglah and Pliesson opened the door leading in from the stairs. That served to let the people in their dorm rooms know that they had arrived. They wandered out in twos and threes to congratulate them, and everyone asked to see Phantom. Pliesson was the talk of the whole tower that evening.


    Chayah came straight over to Zuglah¡¯s side, hugging him quickly and telling him that she was insanely jealous. She had never gotten past the Boss once in all her runs. ¡°And now I don¡¯t even get to run the new dungeon!¡± She pouted.


    When he and Pliesson went to the kitchens for a late supper, she came with them. He could tell that she was excited about something, and once he had a big plate to hunker down on, he found out why.


    ¡°I have found a lead. I tried all of the cities in Hallowed Mills, but they are really focused on commerce. Not a lot of interest in regional history. Then I found a farmer a couple hundred miles away whose grandfather was a local history buff. I¡¯m told that he had old maps and almanacs that he was trying to sell. Perhaps we can find something that helps us.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t go.¡± Zuglah felt embarrassed. It had only been a day!


    ¡°What? Why not? I can get us a portal. All we need to do is go talk to this farmer. If his almanacs are still for sale, we¡¯ll be back in an hour. If we need to track down whoever he sold them to, it might take an afternoon. We can do it tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s too soon, Chayah. I haven¡¯t had enough time to get to goan sazal. I¡¯m still a novice.¡±


    They both laughed. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Chayah asked. ¡°Surely you ascended when you cleared the dungeon? How could you not?¡± He just shrugged.


    ¡°Trolls take a really long time to power up. Only as wizards and mages, I¡¯m told. Please don¡¯t tell anyone. It¡¯s not very well known. It¡¯s actually embarrassing.¡±


    He shoveled food in silence for a few more minutes. He hadn¡¯t eaten all day.


    Finally, Pliesson cleared his throat. ¡°Actually, I think I can help you with that.¡± He looked up at Chayah, which made his whiskers twitch and his tiny black-furred hands start to dry-wash each other. He seemed unaware. ¡°Can you get us a portal to Dreymar?¡±


    A little startled, Chayah said, ¡°Why, yes. That shouldn¡¯t be a problem. But let¡¯s not tell Stuglas where we¡¯re going, okay? He can be so tedious about accompanying me everywhere.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Zuglah said sympathetically, ¡°he did agree to guard you in exchange for school, right? He¡¯s probably afraid of losing his job.¡±


    Chayah looked at him in surprise. ¡°Stuglas isn¡¯t my protector.¡±


    ¡°No, he¡¯s her husband. You didn¡¯t know?¡± Pliesson¡¯s eyebrows rose, which was an interesting sight for a creature with no actual brows.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Chayah said, taking his hand. ¡°It¡¯s not serious.¡±

 Chapter Twenty Two: Hell Comes To Pig Town

    Chapter Twenty Two: Hell Comes To Pig Town


    The pace of a Wizard¡¯s learning was completely at his or her own discretion. Nevertheless, Zuglah felt compelled to tell Slorric that he would not be in class this morning. He was very understanding, especially when he learned that Zuglah hadn¡¯t ascended. ¡°I had thought,¡± he said, smiling, ¡°that you would be after the tier two spells as soon as possible. Now I see why you haven¡¯t yet asked me for them. Very well.¡±


    Zuglah and Pliesson had a lot of people coming by their table to congratulate them on their incredible good fortune. A great many made the timid Driole promise to show them Phantom at some later date. He was unused to the attention, but Zuglah thought it might be growing on him.


    They ate as quickly as they could, Chayah explaining that they needed to hurry. She surprised Zuglah by leading them out of the tower. The three of them made their way through the streets of Loud.


    It was quite different from what was seen from above. The people were full sized, full volume and full of smells too. Everywhere he went, there were more scents and odors. Some quite alarming, others almost inviting.


    He tried to forget how he had barely eaten two plates of breakfast. Two plates! How had he gotten so spoiled so quickly?


    Fortunately they only had to go a few short blocks before they arrived at a large, three story stone building that dominated a major intersection. It was an Inn called The Fastest Lion, and it looked very expensive. ¡°My father¡¯s stewart told me that a couple of my brothers have taken up residence here, recently. I¡¯m willing to bet that at least one of them will be a Wizard.¡±


    They climbed the stairs and entered the large lobby. Most of the ground floor was dedicated to the restaurant, but it was still richly appointed and comfortable. The hostess who came to greet them was a High Elf. This place was expensive.


    She and Chayah spoke together quickly, and then she bowed her head respectfully to the much younger Chayah and left. Chayah pointed towards one of the couches, and Zuglah and Pliesson took seats. A young Half-Elf appeared and told them that she had available beer, wine and tea. ¡°That sounds great.¡± Zuglah told her. Chayah spoke to her in Elven and she too nodded before rushing off. She did indeed return with all three, plus some warm bread and cheese.


    ¡°Do you guys want to wait here while I go talk to my brothers?¡± Zuglah nodded, already tearing a large chunk of bread off. There was melted butter inside. He didn¡¯t even notice her leaving.


    The beer was like bread and butter in a mug. The wine was light and crisp. Elven food was his new favorite thing. Chayah came back almost too soon.


    ¡°Good news,¡± she said, beaming her usual radiant smile. ¡°My brother Krane is here. He absolutely adores me. You guys ready?¡± Zuglah stood, nodding.


    They followed Chayah up the stairs. They ignored the second floor completely, and walked past the stern looking High Elf minding the bottom of the stairs to the third floor. He gave Zuglah and Pliesson both a hard stare as they went by. At the top of the stairs there were nothing but Elves. It was almost all High Elves, but there were also Half-Elves and Wood Elves, Dark Elves and even the occasional Green Elves from the Emerald Mountains. They were shorter than normal Elves, and unlike any Elf he had ever seen, stocky. Muscular, even. Nowhere near as short or stout as a Dwarf, but definitely the toughest Elves that Zuglah had ever seen.


    There might have been fifty Elves in the room. It felt very crowded indeed. Chayah took his hand and led them directly through the dead silent, one hundred percent focused on the giant blue Troll, crowd of heavily armed and extremely well-practiced Wizards, Warriors, Mages, Paladins, Rogues, Druids and Clerics. He kept his eyes riveted on her tawny copper braids and followed closely. He hoped that Pliesson was keeping up. He really didn¡¯t want to turn around.


    At what could only be described as the head table sat a group of High Elves that clearly had all of the rank, or seniority, however they sorted themselves out. In the center of the long table sat a tall, stately Elf with long hair that was gold. It not only was the color, it appeared almost as though his hair was actually made of the metal. It would have been blinding in sunlight.


    The man was smiling as he arose. He was tall and slim, as all Elves were, but there was an aura of age about him. There was not a line on his face, of course, but he had the bearing of someone who had seen it all, and it wearied him. This was Krane.


    He came around the table to greet them. Chayah introduced everyone within eyesight. ¡°Pliesson, Zuglah Glun, this is my brother Krane. And that glowing fellow is my brother Oswick, that¡¯s Aneras, Belfu, Starm, Breena and- you know what? You can meet the rest later. We¡¯ve got a quest to get to!¡±


    ¡°The rest? How many of these guys are your brothers?¡±


    She thought about it for a second. ¡°You know the guy standing at the bottom of the stairs?¡± He nodded. ¡°Everybody except him. My dad is like, six thousand years old. I have literally two or three thousand brothers. But Krane is my absolute favorite!¡± She reached out and gave him a hug, which he pretended to suffer through.


    ¡°Nice to meet you, Zuglah Glun. And you, Pliesson. I congratulate you on embarking on your very first quest. My sister has been looking forward to this day for as long as I¡¯ve known her.¡±


    They went outside, because Chayah said that her brothers were a meddlesome bunch, and a few were sure to jump through if they opened the portal right there. Zuglah didn¡¯t like the sound of that very much, so he agreed wholeheartedly.


    Krane was surprised when Chayah told him the destination, but he didn¡¯t say anything. Zuglah didn¡¯t know what or where Dreymar was, but he figured he would find out soon enough. They stepped through the portal.


    They were on the top of a grassy hill that overlooked a sprawling, interconnected series of grassy mounds and alluvial hills that ran down the slope to a pristine beach. Off to the left was an island, it seemed a city and a mountain all at once. Chayah pointed. ¡°Feydaeillyn. And this is Dreymar Island, the home to the Clariot Drioles.¡± Behind them, down the other side of the hill, was a village. It was made of grass-roofed huts and log buildings, there were cooking fires and laundry lines and Drioles of many varying colors and markings.


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    Pliesson came through the portal, and stood with them. ¡°Zuglah, I honestly didn¡¯t know how I was going to get through my first fight ever, much less get to tier four. I was scared, so I always put it off. But I made it through in one try, thanks in large part to you, and I learned how to be valuable to the team. I think I can do it now.¡± He pointed to the village, and the forest alongside it. ¡°This is how I got to youn sazal, and goan. Our island is infested.¡±


    ¡°Oh no. Infested how?¡± Chayah was caught up and wanted to help.


    ¡°Well, from wild boars, actually. They swim over from your Royal Preserve, where their population is strictly controlled, to here. Where it is not. In a few short years they have infested the entire forest, and they are quite powerful. I only had a firebolt spell and a boar spear, so I had to be very careful and pick my victims. But I don¡¯t expect any boars to give you trouble, Zuglah. You should be able to kill them as fast as you can regain your mana. You have your Pots with you?¡± Zuglah assured him that it would not be a problem.


    Pliesson went down to the village and introduced them to his family. His mother and father were so overjoyed to see him, and in the company of friends, that they tried to pull them inside for a visit. Pliesson was forced to be quite firm with them before they believed that they were in a hurry, and on official business. Pliesson soon found the village chieftain.


    The Chief was a white-furred and dignified Driole, also an Enchanter, who had led the village for the last twenty years. He was in a state of worried desperation, because the wild boars not only feasted on their crops, but they attacked the livestock, and the young and elderly as well. People were afraid to leave their houses.


    Drioles made natural Enchanters, and the village had several at the moment. Pliesson asked the Chief to gather them, and he told them their plan. They were going to drive the hogs Westward, towards the hills and into the open. From there Zuglah could destroy as many of them as he could, and Chayah and Pliesson would make sure that none escaped to the North to slip around back into the woods, or worse, into the fields. The Chief looked skeptical at first, but eventually he agreed.


    And so they stood, Zuglah and Redda Mo on the top of a hill that dominated the Western clearing. Chayah and Pliesson were with him, standing back and under a nearby oak tree for the shade. A great cacophony rose from the East, directly in front of him. The forest was long, but it was on an island so it couldn¡¯t be very wide. The Chief, it would seem, had taken the opportunity to beat the entire forest clear of wild boars, in the hopes that they might solve their problem for good. The trees shook. Thunder rumbled deep, resonating in his chest. The ground through his feet trembled.


    A hoard of screaming, maddened boars charged out of the woods, looking for blood. Zuglah gave it to them.


    He sent as many Ice Knives as he could quickly summon directly into the crowd, the area of effect damage and the slow down would help him tremendously. He switched to Dancing Mana, and unloaded a stream so long that he lost count half way through. Every bullet killed a boar, and the stream moved onto the next in rapidfire fashion. An entire wave of boars fell to Dancing Mana, Zuglah sweeping the crowd with bullets at an unsustainable rate. He started to see double, and had to stop sending. In that moment, the crowd of boars swelled and grew aggressive, charging up the hill towards him and his friends. He allowed them to get a little closer, then unleashed Blazing Inferno. It stopped the entire surge in its tracks.


    Deeper into the crowd of hogs, a Lightning Bolt erupted. Soon after, a Fireball. Waves of fire swept the field. Chayah and Pliesson were helping to thin the crowd. they must have realized that he could never kill them all. But he certainly tried.


    ¡°AGGRESSION!¡± Redda Mo once again made him jump so badly he almost dropped him. He felt an incredible rush, so energizing that he was afraid that he might snap his quarterstaff in half if he wasn¡¯t careful.


    His Infernos Blazed hotter, his Dancing Mana struck faster and deadlier. Before, the odd boar would require two bullets, if it was tough. But now there was not a boar in sight that he could not kill in one shot. Even his Blast of Frost would now almost stop a charging pig in its tracks. He used it to gather larger and larger groups together before he cast Blazing Inferno. It roared so hot that not even the smell of burning hair remained.


    His Dancing Mana had to go farther and farther afield to find targets. Other streams of Dancing Mana chased down boars also, and lightning bolts still fell among them too. Chayah was picking off strays, keeping them from wandering off and causing trouble.


    In another ten minutes, it was all over. The second it was, Pliesson came right up to him. ¡°Okay, how on earth did you do that?¡± When Zuglah gave him a puzzled look, he pointed to the bandolier. All of the Pots were still there.


    Zuglah sighed. ¡°I may as well tell you. But you two have to keep it to yourselves, okay?¡± They both agreed. He told them about how he regenerated mana, and that these spells were low enough of a drain that they could not really outpace his regeneration. He had been told that would not always be the case, but for now it seemed to be.


    Pliesson simply shook his head. ¡°Well, now I feel like you were holding back on us, in Spellman¡¯s. That was incredible.¡± It wasn¡¯t that incredible. He had killed an untold number of wild pigs, but he still hadn¡¯t ascended.


    Pliesson frowned in frustration. ¡°That¡¯s very disappointing. I would have gone up to sazal five just by being in your party, just now.¡± Zuglah apologized for not inviting him. ¡°No no, I would have just taken away your experience, being a higher level. We¡¯re here for you to get as much as possible.¡± Chayah tried to apologize for killing too many boars, but the truth was that they probably would have escaped and run amok if she hadn¡¯t.


    ¡°There¡¯s always the Drake,¡± the Chief suggested, when Pliesson told him of their less than perfect outcome. ¡°We¡¯ve never been able to get rid of it, of course, but for Thiri Lensa it should present no problems.¡± He performed what Zuglah suspected passed for a smile among Drioles.


    He explained that at the top of that mountain, a day and a half from here, there was a Mountain Drake. Zuglah sighed. He really didn¡¯t like lightning. It hurt, and he had no natural resistance to it. The Chief invited them to stay for the big feast. After all, they were the Guests of Honor.

 Chapter Twenty Three: Go Spell It On The Mountain

    Chapter Twenty Three: Go Spell It On The Mountain


    They made their way back to Krane. Chayah was surprised to discover him still standing beside his portal. ¡°You waited? I was going to call you.¡± She held up her pinkie, displaying a large ruby set in a gold ring.


    He looked at her fondly. ¡°That was an awful lot of noise. Did you enjoy yourselves?¡±


    Chayah shrugged. ¡°It wasn¡¯t bad. But we need to go someplace else, before we can go home. Do you mind?¡±


    Krane shrugged. ¡°Of course not.¡± She pointed to the mountain at the far side of the island.


    ¡°About half way up, if you please?¡± He opened them a doorway.


    Just as his sister was about to happily walk through the portal, there came a metallic hiss, like a long chain being dragged across stone. Only it was louder and angrier than any chain. ¡°Hey, wait just a moment.¡± The portal stopped. It became a solid, frozen piece of¡­ fluffy, green blue and purple foam, large and oval shaped. It fell to the ground, and evaporated. It was not how a portal normally closed.


    ¡°Oh really, Krane. There¡¯s no need to be dramatic.¡± Chayah folded her arms across her chest and regarded him sternly.


    ¡°What was that, young lady? Were you about to confront a Green Dragon, with only a Driole and a Troll for escorts? From your novice class?¡± Zuglah somewhat resented this assessment of the situation. While accurate, it did nothing for his confidence.


    ¡°Oh relax, Krane. It was hardly a Green Dragon. I have no interest in talking to one. It was just a Drake.¡±


    ¡°That is not better, Chayah. In fact it might be worse. Does your friend know that he won¡¯t even be getting experience for this battle? He¡¯s too low level. What were you thinking, bringing him? I wouldn¡¯t have even brought the Illusionist. What good will Advancing Chances do against a raging Fire Drake?¡±


    ¡°Well, for one thing, Pliesson just hit bowan sazal yesterday, so I very much doubt that he had time to learn Advancing Chances.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even have that spell until sheyol sazal!¡± Pliesson said. ¡°Besides, we¡¯re not going to fight the Drake, Zuglah is!¡±


    Krane stopped what he was about to say and clamped his mouth shut. He slowly turned to look at Zuglah, pursing his lips as he looked him up and down. Zuglah was positive that he caught it all. Sea striders, Watch Yer Ankles!, runestick. He said, ¡°Are you sure that you want to do this, Zuglah Glun? While you are not unimpressive, I will admit, I simply do not see how you can accomplish such a thing.¡±


    Zuglah shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve made promises. I have to.¡±


    Krane snorted in contempt. ¡°Promises. To a quest-giver. You will soon learn-¡±


    ¡°I promised your sister.¡± That shut him up. Krane frowned, then looked him up and down again, this time with a different, much more discerning eye.


    ¡°You know,¡± Krane said softly, ¡°she doesn¡¯t get her way every single time.¡± He almost sounded sympathetic.


    Zuglah laughed. ¡°I know that¡¯s not true. If you¡¯re worried about it, here. Take this, and come with us. But when we¡¯re done, I want that back. I don¡¯t have time to make more.¡±


    He only thought Krane was surprised, before. The look of shock on his face when Zuglah pressed a glowing yellow vial of Live, Damn You! into his hand was priceless.


    ¡°You make Lady? This is ten platinum pieces, you¡¯ve just handed me. Who doesn¡¯t have time to be filthy rich?¡± That made Zuglah think of the curse that was pinned to his chest. He wanted to cover it up, but didn¡¯t. He shrugged instead.


    ¡°I¡¯ve had money. It didn¡¯t do a thing for me.¡±


    Krane shook his head, this time in wonderment. ¡°Keep this then. I have similar. But I will accompany you, now that I have been formally invited.¡± Chayah opened her mouth wide, clearly to protest at some volume, so he said quickly, ¡°Not to interfere. Your consequences shall be your own. But I will be there to make sure that nothing gets out of hand.¡± He opened the portal, but this time to the very top of the mountain. Zuglah strode through before he could change his mind again.


    The air was cold and sharp, and it took his breath away. The top of the mountain was bald stone, and too bare for any snow or ice to cling to. But a hundred feet below them it was piled high. They all had a fantastic view of the mountain from here. Krane pointed and said loudly into the wind, ¡°There!¡±


    The Mountain Drake¡¯s presence was immediately obvious. Far below, Zuglah could see a blackened piece of forest, and some of the trees didn¡¯t look burned or struck; they looked broken. He could see clean, pale wood in the breaks of some of the newer ones. Pine trees were stripped of branches, great sequoia and banyans ripped from the earth. The Drake itself was too small to be seen, but they could see and hear traces of lightning from the trees and canopy surrounding.


    Krane opened a second portal, and stood beside it with his fingers pressed to his lips. They nodded at the instruction each in turn as they entered.


    They emerged under the cover of some boulders. The largest of which was climbable from their side, but was a sheer drop on the downslope side. At the top, they very carefully peeked over the edge to get a glimpse of the Mountain Drake.


    His first thought was, That¡¯s no dragon, but it wasn¡¯t a comfort. It was low and long, with a body more like a winged snake. Then it moved, undulating and scrambling with many small, claw-tipped legs and employing serpentine locomotion that reminded him more than anything of a centipede. A winged, lightning-breathing centipede with rippling iron-hard scales that looked translucent and iridescent by turns. The whole thing made for an eyesore of an opponent.


    He slid on his belly backwards until he was on the ground once again. He motioned them back through the portal. Once there, Krane closed the doorway so they could talk.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t get a reading from it. All I got was three skulls.¡± Zuglah had to raise his voice to be heard in the wind.


    ¡°It is a feature of the spell.¡± Krane told him. ¡°It is meant to prevent you from doing something foolish.¡± Zuglah merely shrugged. He didn¡¯t see that he had any choice. He needed to fight something significant if he was going to gain any real experience. Krane sighed. ¡°It is a schaba sazal Mountain Drake. Primary attack, lightning breath, but it also has claws and tail. And large teeth, which you no doubt noticed. Immune to lightning, resists cold and vulnerable to fire damage. Of which, if I recall, you have very little.¡±


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    Chayah reached out and placed two fingers on his brow. He felt his hair stand up on end, then lay flat. ¡°It¡¯s a little resistance to lightning. I hope it helps.¡± He felt better for having it, and said so.


    He felt like he was ready. Resists cold. That meant that he couldn¡¯t slow it down. It was fast¡­ He admonished Chayah and Pliesson to stay here, and he stepped through alone. Krane nodded, then closed the portal.


    The Drake was situated on the other side of the very same boulder, wings spread out across a large flat rock in the sunlight. He drew Briarthorn and cast Brambles.


    The serpent-like body writhed and struggled against the thorns, getting more scratches and thus more of the sickenning venom. He immediately cast The Ice Blade twice, trying to injure one or both of its wings. He managed to hit one before they were both pulled in close to its body. He unleashed a stream of Dancing Mana ten slugs long, and ducked back behind the boulder. The beast still didn¡¯t even know where he was.


    He heard the frustrated screams as the mana bullets detonated one after another, staggering the vicious creature and enraging it further. He tried to peek from behind the boulder, and it spotted him. He used Blast of Frost, to almost no effect. The beast screamed, and a jagged bolt of lightning struck him in the middle of his chest. His arms and legs seized, his jaw clamped shut on its own, and his heart felt like it had to lurch back into service. And, he realized, it had knocked him on his ass. It was already right on top of him. Gods, it was fast!


    He scrambled to his feet just in time to swing Redda Mo as hard as he could with both hands. He connected, slamming the side of the creature¡¯s head with the length of the shaft, but it came right back with a scream, and a bath of steam and lightning. He snapped up Desperate Measures, but the Drake blasted right through it.


    Zuglah realized through the pain that he could probably still cast. He roared his own scream right into the Drake¡¯s face, and unleashed the hottest Blazing Inferno that he could summon. It blazed and he roared. The Drake steamed, and it screamed. He poured it on.


    The Drake broke first. It turned around and scurried away, slipping sideways off of a large boulder and tumbling as it fled.


    Zuglah took a step in pursuit, and fell flat onto his face. His legs were clenched rigidly from the lightning, and his vision was messed up. He pushed himself off of the ground, and tried to pull a healing potion out of the bandolier, but his fingers were all black, twisted and mangled. He shoved the entire shoulder strap closer to his face and jerked one of the corks out with his teeth. He sucked the Heal out, and instantly felt his strength return. His vision cleared at once, and he effortlessly regained his footing. The Drake was still scurrying away, so he sent Dancing Mana after it.


    Zuglah blinked. He appeared in front of the Mountain Drake and blasted it with Blazing Inferno. It instantly changed direction again, but it was much slower and so much clumsier now. He was able to baste the entire length of the creature¡¯s body as it passed, damaging its many tiny legs along that side. The beast¡¯s belly was dragging noticeably along the rocks, and it had lost the venom behind its screaming. Zuglah aimed Dancing Mana towards the creature¡¯s head, and did not relent until it stopped moving.


    The moment that the creature died, he felt the surge. It was like a quickening. Each time he ascended, he could feel a new revelation of Self. He needed a moment to reflect.


    ¡°How did you do that?¡± Krane demanded.


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I said.¡± Pliesson was on Krane¡¯s left side, Chayah on his right. The Illusionist looked up at the tall Elf. ¡°He killed Bulgo with a cantrip. The man¡¯s just a natural. Even Wizard Gamstone said so.¡±


    Zuglah found the Portable Hole inside his bag and pulled it out. He dropped the Hole onto the Drake and watched it quiver, then vanish.


    ¡°Drakes are known hoarders, Zuglah Glun. I should think that the lair will be fairly close by.¡± He nodded his thanks to Krane for the advice. Everyone spread out to look, except for Chayah, who wanted to walk with Zuglah.


    ¡°You were amazing! I was so scared when that thing was roaring in your face, I thought it was going to eat you. I almost made Krane take me down there, but of course he wouldn¡¯t have anyway. He always keeps his promises. But I¡¯m so proud of you. Did you ascend?¡± He felt a whisper across his mind, Join me, Zuglah Glun. He accepted gratefully.


    He was in a party with Chayah. After a moment, he realized that he was also in a party with Pliesson. This pleased him, in some way, knowing that his two friends were keeping company with each other when he wasn¡¯t there. Like he was their common ground or something. The cause of their friendship. He just knew that he hated being excluded from things, and he was gratified to see that Chayah had thought to include the Driole.


    She squealed with pleasure, and jumped up to hug him around the neck. She was intoxicating, and he never really knew how seriously he should be taking the whole dating thing. She was a High Elf, after all, -and married!- and he was just a Troll without a clan. Who ever heard of an Elf dating a Troll?


    Krane found the Drake¡¯s lair, stumbling across a blood trail that he was able to follow back to a cave in the side of the mountain. Once inside, there were many rank, reptilian odors that Zuglah tried to immediately forget, as well as mounds of bones and other debris. Towards the back was an indiscriminate pile of gold, armor, weapons, personal mementos and rotting clothing. Krane cast Detect Magic over everything, then did the same trick with his staff that Gamstone had done, summoning all of the gold in the region to a small pile at the foot of his staff. It was enough to fill a soldier¡¯s helmet and half of a leather sack.


    There was a small cache of weapons and armor too, artifacts from this lone warrior or that, who had probably thought that their ace-in-the-hole item would carry the day. There was a beautiful lance, tipped in silver and gold filigree and etched in the same along the haft. There was a chainmail cowl that they removed from between a skull and helmet, a short sword, two daggers and a necklace.


    They carried it all into the fresh air, where Krane made them a portal back to the village. After a brief discussion, they agreed to give the helmet full of coins to the Chief, with their wishes that this could help anyone who had experienced hardship because of the boars. For rebuilding, or better fencing, or anything really.


    Zuglah and Chayah had seen first hand how embarrassed Pliesson¡¯s parents had been when he had given them his winnings from Spellman¡¯s Caverns. They had spluttered about how such a sum would make them rich, and they really didn¡¯t need those kinds of headaches. Pliesson had told them to take the money and stop being so silly. So they had finally agreed. They were nearly apoplectic when he came by a few hours later with an even bigger handful, and shoved it into their tiny black-furred hands without a word.


    Rolling his eyes at the delays and the sentimentality of it all, Krane opened a portal for them back to the Inn. Chayah browbeat her brother into opening them a doorway straight to their floor, and Krane complied mostly because she could barely keep her eyes open. Zuglah too was dead tired, but he was also famished. He and Pliesson stopped at the cafeteria to eat before turning in.


    ¡°Zuglah Glun?¡± He was plowing his way through his second plate of eggs and potatoes when someone barked his name. He looked up to see a small group of Humans gathered around him. He nodded to the man who had spoken, a portly Wizard in his middle years with a permanently red face and a patchy, white and gray beard. ¡°Of course you are. My name is Agravail Bishop, and we would like to invite you to join our society.¡± He stood there smiling, quite pleased with himself. Zuglah looked to Pliesson for help.


    ¡°They¡¯re from Cave Drinks. They make potions.¡±

 Chapter Twenty Four: The Society For Finding Things In Caverns And Drinking Them

    Chapter Twenty Four: The Society For Finding Things In Caverns And Drinking Them


    Agravail and his crew sat down, some at his table, and others at nearby tables that put them closer to the conversation than sitting further down the bench would have. Agravail, always smiling, pinched the edge of his sling in two fingers, running them down the length as though he was looking for loose threads. He looked up at Zuglah.


    ¡°This is lovely. May I try something?¡± Zuglah was curious, so he shrugged and nodded. He was instantly wary, however, when the Human revealed a hooked dagger. Before he could produce so much as a ¡®Hey!¡¯ Agravail slid the knife underneath the bandolier strap and gave it a sharp tug. It sliced through cleanly, and he let go of both pieces at once. Or perhaps they were pulled out of his fingertips, because the two ends immediately sprang back together seamlessly.


    Those gathered around gave a soft murmur of appreciation. Zuglah thought he might have been one of them. He certainly echoed the sentiment. Agravail¡¯s deceptively nimble fingers found the empty Heal vial on his shoulder, and a moment later it was laying gently in his palm being examined. He pursed his lips and tisked at the tooth marks he saw on the cork. ¡°You may as well throw that away, it¡¯ll need replacing.¡±


    Zuglah asked him, ¡°Do you know what Stone¡¯s Throw is, exactly?¡± There were chuckles from some of the men, but Agravail closed his eyes and breathed in a deep, satisfied breath.


    ¡°So nice to meet a fellow gleaner. I was so hoping that you were more than a mere potion slinger. You see, Lieber Cant is a perverse and devious Elf. Drow, not that it matters. He likes to teach you a lesson in his dungeons, and then reward you with the means to actually survive them, but not until you have managed the feat on your own. Stone¡¯s Throw is a projectile shield that punishes those who use arrows, crossbows or anything thrown, really. Probably would have been nice to have against the Bea Tihc, right? It is a fifth level Warlock spell, but the potion will last upwards of sixty minutes, if done carefully.¡±


    ¡°I see. Thank you. Would you be willing to trade for recipes and ingredients? I wouldn¡¯t mind making a couple of those.¡±


    ¡°Ingredients, yes. Recipes? No. Those are yours freely if you join the Society. If you join another Society, you will have only their recipes to choose from. Although I will be the first to admit that we are all working from the same basic list. So it all comes down to who you want to spend time with.¡±


    Zuglah nodded. ¡°That¡¯s very good to know. I won¡¯t be making any decisions tonight, however. I have had a long day, as has my friend Pliesson here. I hope you will understand.¡±


    Agravail was not in the least bit bothered by being summarily dismissed. He rose smoothly, bowed to them once, and took his gang away. Zuglah asked his friend how many of these potion societies there were, and he seemed genuinely surprised by the question. ¡°A lot, I suppose. They tend to come and go so frequently. There¡¯s a great deal of quick and dirty money to be made in the potion racket, Zuglah, and many unscrupulous people have vested interests in that regard. I¡¯ll just say that I¡¯m glad you didn¡¯t join that particular Society. They are not above resorting to tactics to get their way.¡±


    Zuglah didn¡¯t like the sounds of that, but he was too tired to think straight any more. They made their way to bed.


    In the morning, Chayah was not at breakfast. Zuglah was relieved and disappointed, all at once. He was afraid that now that they had gotten him his level she would want to be off right away chasing down the Constant Maiden. He wanted at least one day to get his hands on some tier two spells, maybe even get to cast a couple. Plus, they still had a big pile of loot that they hadn¡¯t identified yet.


    He left for his lessons with Slorric without even seeing her. It was very disappointing.


    Slorric had arranged for other instructors to help with the class, and he brought Zuglah into an empty classroom for a private lesson. These were needed whenever a Wizard gained a new tier, because they always had many questions and needed very detailed instructions regarding their new spells.


    They started with upcasting, something that interested Zuglah a great deal. Slorric explained to him that not every spell could be upcast, and the ones that could needed to be learned. Dancing Mana was different enough that it was almost a new spell. He asked if he needed to rewrite this one into his level two spellbook, but Slorric assured him that there was a trick to it. It was within the memorization process that the rewrite took place.


    When he cast the new version, the Mana bullets were smaller, but brighter. In his mind they felt denser. He was told that these bullets would penetrate the target¡¯s armor before they detonated, causing greater damage. He next learned how to do the same with Blazing Inferno.


    ¡°Why doesn¡¯t everyone use this? It¡¯s so good.¡± He had learned just how deadly even the basic version of this spell could be. The level two version was a more focused blast, and it reached much farther.


    ¡°Most people cannot overcast the way that you seem to enjoy, Zuglah Glun. You see, that level of Mana control is never learned, unless one has great need, like you did. So even though it is designed to be used exactly the way you have been using it, nobody else can, really. If they tried it, they would end up out of mana.¡±


    Having seen how to do it twice, Zuglah understood the principal. He was able to figure out the upcast version of every other one of his spells, and which ones could naturally not be upcast, like Boon Companion or Sleep.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    His first new spell was Firebolt, which he found extremely frustrating. It was a good spell, hit hard and traveled fast, but he was constantly trying to push more Mana into it, make it hotter, make it more somehow. But it was impossible, there was nothing.


    Push Zuglah found very interesting also. It was possible to push harder, or farther, whatever his intent. But it relied on willpower, not Mana. The more focused he was, the more Zuglah could make it respond how he wished. But it was not without its risks. Slorric suggested he move over to the stone wall and try -gently- to push it. He ended up flinging himself away like he had been swatted by a giant. The same thing happened when he tried to push Slorric. ¡°When you try to push a Wizard, beware: it is your will against his, and level has nothing to do with it.¡± The old man had been harder than the wall.


    Lightning bolt was a deadly spell, as he had already witnessed. The way Randall had made it jump from archer to archer was very similar to the way one did it with Dancing Mana, but the pushthrough happened whether the person died or not.


    Seek Metal was another lightning based spell that sent the desired number of helgavolts scurrying across the ground in search of anything metal. Slorric assured him that anybody that was bound by party was immune to the creatures, even if they were touching the victim when the helgavolt struck.


    Then there was a spell simply called Spiders that was anything but simple. The spiders could be summoned with a variety of different poisons; sleep, slow, paralysis and pain. The more Mana Zuglah pumped into the spell, the more pounds of spiders were summoned. What size of spider he wanted was entirely up to him. He experimented, pouring in Mana and testing how large of a spider he could summon, when suddenly an even larger spider with opposite colored markings appeared and jumped on his summons. He turned in shock to find Slorric grinning at him.


    He explained to Zuglah that there was a game that Wizards played among themselves called Spider Wars, a truly nightmare-inducing game that was absolutely banned in the dormitories, for obvious reasons. Zuglah was not sure he wanted to learn, but after a couple of rounds with Slorric he started to enjoy himself more and more. There were more subtle strategies than simply overwhelming your opponent with the most spiders.


    Wicked Trap was a deadly creation that would lay a small rune upon the ground that was visible only to the Wizard. The trap was indiscriminate, and anyone who stepped on it would receive a nasty surprise. Like a steel trap, sharpened metal teeth sprang up from the rune and chomped down on the person¡¯s shin, potentially shattering it.


    Splendid Wall was exactly what it sounded like, a rather pleasant wall. Zuglah was almost positive that his opinion of the wall would climb all the way to ¡®splendid¡¯ if it separated him from, say, a bunch of murderous thugs.


    Just as he was turning the page to write Mirror Mage, Slorric stood up. ¡°Enough for today, Zuglah. In fact, that¡¯s probably enough to last you all week. You really ought to let a couple of spells settle in your head before you go tossing a whole bunch more in there. You can learn the rest next week.¡±


    Next week was after the new school dungeon. He wasn¡¯t sure what the other spells might be, but he thought that Mirror Mage might come in handy. He was going to have to find out what spells he was missing. Chayah or Randall could tell him.


    He found neither of them at lunch. He asked Stuglas and the other Elves, but none of them seemed to know where she was, and none of the people that he usually saw Randall with could tell him where his Human friend was, either. He ate lunch with his roommates, as usual, Pliesson washing his face and whiskers constantly as though Chayah was due to pop around the corner any second. Zuglah felt much the same.


    In the afternoon, Zuglah attended horseback riding lessons. It was apparently part of being a good party member, being transportable. He found that horses didn¡¯t like him very much, and he didn¡¯t really care for them either. They were smelly, sweaty and violent, and honestly didn¡¯t  even save that much time. He could easily outrun a horse with Leap, and a portal was even more efficient. Plus you didn¡¯t have to spend an hour every night brushing and feeding a portal, although he did like the sounds of horses freaking out when wolves or other nocturnal predators approached his campsite.


    They were just discussing the advantages of having horse sentinels versus magic wards, when a pair of Elven soldiers came through a portal and emerged right onto the practice grounds. At their side strode a figure that Zuglah immediately recognized. Krane.


    Being tall and blue-skinned made it easy to spot Zuglah in a crowd. He was not surprised, therefore, when Krane directed the two warriors straight to him. They were not mounted, so he gratefully slid down from his own horse to greet them.


    Zuglah turned to Krane. ¡°So I take it you¡¯re the reason why Chayah has been absent today? What did you do, tell your father on her? Where is she?¡±


    Their riding instructor was a slender, middle-aged Human woman named Stelma Jas. She strode up to the officer and demanded to know what was happening. ¡°This is Pree, not Eowynhaven. What right do you have to bring armed troops here?¡±


    The officer stared coldly at Stelma through the bars of his helmet. Then he turned to address Zuglah. ¡°You are the Troll Wizard who was with Chayah Runsfaster yesterday? You are the one who killed the Mountain Drake?¡±


    Zuglah looked at Krane, but the High Elf refused to explain. He looked back at the officer. ¡°Yes, I killed the Drake. Where is Chayah?¡± The class began murmuring among themselves. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was in regards to Chayah or the Drake, but they were starting to cause a bit of a stir.


    ¡°Chayah Runsfaster is with her father, Dawstan Raincaster. The king of the Elves. They would like you to join them for dinner.¡±


    ¡°And if he refuses?¡± Stelma Jas demanded.


    The officer looked at her and shrugged. ¡°Then he doesn¡¯t get supper.¡±

 Chapter Twenty Five: Breakfast At Spiffanys

    Chapter Twenty Five: Breakfast At Spiffany¡¯s


    Zuglah didn¡¯t know what exactly was going on, but he did know one thing; he liked Elven cuisine very much. If he had the chance, he wanted to eat more of it. But he had to remind himself that this was about Chayah.


    ¡°You said Chayah invited me? And her father? Wait a minute, did you say king?¡± His damned stomach wouldn¡¯t let him think straight.


    Finally, Krane spoke. ¡°Chayah is with her father. She is not in any trouble, as you seem to think. She is a princess of Feydaeillyn. Who is there to bother her? She personally asked me to come and fetch you, because you are familiar with me. I am meant to reassure you.¡±


    This whole situation wasn¡¯t making a lot of sense. Why wouldn¡¯t Chayah just come herself? Was he supposed to wear his fancy robes? Or civilian clothes? Krane was no help.


    ¡°They will not care. Come as you are or change, it makes no difference. I will personally be happier if we can go now. Without delay.¡± He seemed to resent being made to run errands.


    ¡°That¡¯s fine with me. I¡¯m hungry.¡± Krane walked with him back to the field where his portal had opened.


    ¡°Now wait just a minute.¡± Stelma Jas had followed them. ¡°This young man is my responsibility. You cannot just make off with him in the middle of a riding lesson. I shall have to inform his teachers at once.¡± She did not move, but nodded in satisfaction as though her words had stopped them in their tracks. After it became obvious that her protest was the extent of her involvement, Zuglah turned back to Krane. He shrugged.


    They stepped through into the most opulent, fancy room that Zuglah had ever been in. There were massive, elaborate crystal chandeliers hanging in the middle of the room. All manner of portraits of Elves adorned every free space, walls, columns, display shelves. There were elaborate busts on pedestals and full sized statues displayed with mirrored lanterns to cast brilliant spotlights. The huge table that dominated the room looked like it could seat at least a couple dozen before people were forced to actually sit near another person. The cutlery was stamped silver, the filigree on the plates, gold. Even the wallpaper seemed to have flakes of gold in the weave.


    There was a battalion of servants, whose jobs just seemed to be to be a crowd of people all waiting for the slightest request from The King or his guests.


    The King of the Elves himself looked more like Krane¡¯s younger brother, or perhaps his son, than his father. His hair was purest black, without a hint of gray, and his face was youthful and open. Zuglah liked him immediately.


    Chayah stood beside her father and hung on his arm. She flashed Zuglah her beaming smile, but said, ¡°Dad, this is Zuglah Glun. Zuglah, may I present Dawstan Raincaster. My father. Oh, and he says he¡¯s the King of the Elves or something but that sounds like nonsense to me.¡±


    Zuglah bowed awkwardly. It was his first one, and he felt foolish. Then, Chayah smiled and the King told him, ¡°Just call me Dawstan.¡±


    They sat down to supper. Krane sat to the King¡¯s left, directly across from Chayah on his right, and Zuglah sat beside her. And then, a balet of food service began. Every servant was a High Elf, and they brought plates and dishes and bowls in such rapid succession that they had to wait their turn to approach and set down their delicacies. Zuglah¡¯s senses were awash in glorious smells and tasty delights. A pack of wolves could have been stalking right behind him and he wouldn¡¯t have smelled them.


    The gallery of servants returned to their exact position from earlier, each taking up a vocal harmonizing melody that held no words. Every servant who resumed their post seemed to add a unique tune and melody, sometimes even at a different rhythm from everyone else. The effect, cumulatively, was a hypnotic, complex song unlike anything he had heard before.


    ¡°So Zuglah. Chayah has been telling me of your quest. I¡¯m very happy that the two of you are doing your first ones together. Even though she has admitted to me that she practically bullied her way onto your team. Sorry about that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± he replied around a mouthful of food. He thought the pink, fatty meat was duck. When he skewered a couple of slices, a man had popped up with a golden, steaming gravy and offered to pour it on top. He held his plate up to the man eagerly.


    Chayah laughed again, at what he didn¡¯t know exactly but clearly enjoying herself. She explained to her father that he was going to have to do most of the talking for at least the first couple of platefuls. ¡°Or more,¡± he agreed. Even Krane laughed at that.


    Krane told them the story of the first time he had ever fought a Drake. It was thousands of years ago, on a continent that didn¡¯t even exist any more. He had been a young Paladin back then, full of purpose and ambition. Zuglah learned that in a thousand years, the average High Elf worked his way through every single class and subclass at least three or four dozen times. He also learned that Eiola Walan was the Elven word for High Elf.


    Krane had been the youngest, then. He had been in a party with several of his brothers, on a mission to free a village from a tyrannical Overlord who was working them to capacity and taxing them to death. He had charged the town with clearing a local nest of Green Drakes, a vicious, mindless variety that had no magical attacks, but could spawn in the dozens. They had been caught off guard by the sheer volume of Drakes, facing easily three dozen of the creatures that the locals had failed to warn them about. They were instantly over-run and forced to beat a hasty retreat.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    But Krane and his older sister Lanthia Ban had been cut off from the rest of their party by a young, stupid Drake who had thought them an easy meal. Krane told them how it had managed to kill both of their horses at once, and put them on the ground before they knew what was happening. His older sister had been pursuing the trade of Warlock at the time, and thus had a very limited pool of hit points. Everything was fresh and new, in those days. Everything was a first. He seemed to wax nostalgic as he told them about questing with his older sister, how he had admired her and just wanted to spend time together.


    But his sister had taken an egregious injury while trying to protect her horse, and had become furious with him when it died. She had almost left him to deal with the Drake on his own, but had relented when the damned thing nearly killed him too.


    He told the story in a self-deprecating way that was clearly well-practiced. The way each new stumble seemed to elicit peals of laughter from Chayah told him that this was who the performance was clearly for. The story ended with a pair of young Elves being harried into their camp with a young, hungry Green Drake chasing after. It had been quick work for his brothers Shaddeus and Forp to dispatch the creature, then. They had gotten into a heap of trouble for bringing the rampaging Drake into the middle of the sleeping party. Krane assured his older brother that they had been yelling sufficiently upon entry, but they hadn¡¯t roused in time. The Drake had wrecked every tent in camp except Krane¡¯s. It was a fun story.


    King Dewstan told a story that Zuglah wasn¡¯t entirely sure was suitable for polite society. It involved his fifth (or possibly seventh, he couldn¡¯t be sure) Draconic wife, a species of Dragonkin native to the Spalth Plane. As fond as he had become of their women, The King had decided that it was well past time that he visited.


    Apparently the marriage ceremonies of Dragonkin are somewhat lethal to people without natural body armor and the capacity for flight. ¡°Of course at the time I was the preeminent Magician on Malgrus, so I assured her that my arcane might was more than equal to the challenge. Naturally, I wanted to show off to her family, so I had been secretly practicing my Dragon form as a surprise wedding gift. But I wanted to really impress them, so of course for my dragon form I chose Eldritch.¡± He laughed. ¡°I did, however, learn a great deal about the interspecies relations that go on between the different kinds of Dragons and their kin.¡±


    The Eldritch Dragon that appeared in the skies at the wedding had been a complete unknown to them, a situation that literally had half of Spalth taking to the skies. Apparently all Dragons were known on Splaith, especially the ones with the capacity for Ascendency. So after a brief but bloody battle, they all realized the mistake, and Dewstan had been allowed to wed Sthith. Or had it been Aasth. Either way, they had consummated their love right there in the sky, with the entire wedding party and defenders of the realm watching. Dewstan casually informed them that his lovemaking had been superlative.


    After a brief, awkward pause, Krane turned to Zuglah and said, ¡°My sister has been telling us about your first arrival at school, and how you told her of your quest. But even though you were generous enough to share it with her, it is still not her place to tell or not tell us about the details. That is your prerogative. Will you tell us about it? We just want to know what our Chayah is up to.¡±


    Zuglah thought for a moment while he chewed. ¡°I am happy to tell you. I wouldn¡¯t be anywhere on this thing if it wasn¡¯t for Chayah. Plus, this food is amazing, and you guys have been really nice to me, even though I¡¯m just a forest Troll who goes to school with your daughter. I¡¯m really nobody.¡±


    Dewstan said kindly, ¡°You would not be at The Glout if that were true, Zuglah Glun. It is a little expensive for nobodies. But you have a certain charm that is quite infectious. I can see now why my daughter likes you so much. Please, continue.¡±


    He told them the story of entering the dungeon, and finding the subtle differences. He told them about the Centaur merchant, and about the Stanish sigil. The rewards that he was able to choose from, and the last words of Lord Stanish. His hopes were dashed a little when Dewstan asked, ¡°What do you think a ¡®gronnibox¡¯ is?¡± He had been hoping the ancient Elf would know.


    ¡°I do so admire dwarven blacksmithing. Their weapons are peerless, and their enchanting is excellent. Did you choose the dagger?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t, actually. I chose the talisman. I have enough weapons, and I don¡¯t need another status effect at my level.¡± It occurred to him just then that he could perhaps afford another effect or two, given his shiny new sazal. ¡°It doesn¡¯t do anything, but I think it might be Troll. I just liked it.¡± He looked around the table for something else to talk about.


    ¡°May I see it?¡± King Dewstan asked him. Zuglah turned his torso and unbuttoned the first couple of buttons of his robes. The charm had sunken completely beneath his flesh as soon as he had pinned it to his chest, looking like a blue, red and gold stylized tattoo. He knew that Chayah had seen it through his ripped robes when they first met, because she had remarked on it. So she had most likely described it to her father as well. Zuglah wondered if this was what had inspired them to invite him to dinner. They seemed overly interested, for some reason. Or he might have been disproportionately uncomfortable talking about it.


    ¡°It is indeed Troll. Do you know what it says?¡± He shook his head. ¡°It says Heart of an Ogre. It is an ancient Troll benediction towards their children. The heart of an Ogre is said to be implacable. Did you know they can speak the Common Tongue? They received The Gift the same as you and I. Yet as far as I know not a single one of them has ever used it. Not even Goad. If you wish to know what they are saying, you have to learn Ooh.¡±


    Zuglah nodded. ¡°Yes. The Gift.¡± He speared a potato with his fork, and popped it into his mouth to chew while he tried to figure out why Ogres would know Common. The surprise ingredients inside the tuber did nothing to help his concentration.


    ¡°Aurelieus, the God of the Humans, Gifted all of the races that could speak with The Common Tongue. What the Hoard calls Goad. He said it was an apology because his Humans were superior creatures and they would soon run roughshod over the rest of us. That was Eons ago.¡±


    Zuglah had never heard of Aurelieus, or his Gift. He hadn¡¯t ever wondered where his knowledge of Common had come from. He had just assumed that he had learned it whenever he had learned Troll. When he told the Elves as much, they laughed. Zuglah didn¡¯t mind. It was a night for self deprecating stories.


    Zuglah¡¯s regenerative abilities did not seem to affect his alcohol tolerance, and after he had slowed down on his eating enough to converse, the servants had removed many of the food dishes, and replaced them with pitchers of beer and wine. Zuglah had never had mead before, but found it delicious. ¡°King Dewey,¡± he slurred. ¡°Why do you look like your son¡¯s son? He¡¯s so old. And you look like your daughter¡¯s brother, not her father.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s easy. Because I¡¯ve eschewed my class. Since you are the party leader, just tell me what class you need and I¡¯ll do that.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? Why would I pick your class?¡±


    ¡°You know, so I can go with you. I want to become a member of your party.¡±

 Chapter Twenty Six: You Got Mail!

    Chapter Twenty Six: You Got Mail!


    Zuglah felt awful the next morning. And not just because he had to turn down the King¡¯s request to join his quest. That had been bad enough, but he also had to deal with a headache so bad that he had to take two sips of a healing potion before it went away. So much for regeneration.


    It turned out that by the time the King brought up joining the quest, he was pretty drunk too, and they had both had fallen all over themselves apologizing for making the other feel uncomfortable. Krane and Chayah, both sober co-conspirators, had egged the pair on, urging Zuglah and ¡°King Dewey¡± as he had taken to calling him¡­ Zuglah was in the process of swearing off alcohol forever as the memories came back to him.


    He found Chayah already sitting in a crowd of his roommates, including Pliesson, whose ferret-like face conveyed a surprising amount of smugness. The Princess herself could barely contain her laughter as she made room for him on the bench.


    She assured him that she was not mad that he had excluded her father from the quest. She herself had forbidden him from choosing Wizard as a class or from coming to The Glout at all until she was gone. It seemed that her father had issues with boundaries, so she informed him. When he asked her why she didn¡¯t warn him, she laughed again and told him that he could have read it all over her face, if he ever looked up from his food. He countered by telling her that if that''s what she wanted she should serve less delicious foods.


    Pliesson was astonished to find out that they had included him in their plans, and even more so when he heard that the King himself hadn¡¯t made the cut. Zuglah didn¡¯t really say so, but he hadn¡¯t even thought about Pliesson, or Denton and Warwick either, until he had needed them to be in his party as an excuse to turn down King Dewson. But once he had said it, even intoxicated it had felt right. It still did.


    He looked around the cafeteria until he spotted a red-bearded Dwarf who was at least as wide as he was tall. He realized that described almost every Dwarf, but finally spotted the one he wanted. He approached Foadan Gamstone sitting among his fellow teachers. After a polite greeting, he asked the massive Wizard how he could get ahold of Denton and Warwick.


    That was when Zuglah got the letter. Gamstone had sat listening politely to his request, never saying a word. When his student was done speaking, he silently reached inside his doublet and withdrew a thick parchment envelope. It was red paper with a yellow border and yellow wax sealing it shut. His own name was written in fancy, yellow letters across the entire front.


    When he looked up, he realized that every one of the teachers was watching him. He was not sure whether Gamstone would get in touch with Denton or not, but he decided to beat a hasty retreat. He took the mysterious envelope back to his friends.


    ¡°Dear Mister Glun, Hearty salutations! Glorious greetings! It is I, Lieber Cant, architect and designer of Spellman¡¯s Caverns. I have been informed that you recently completed my dungeon, and closed it out! Congratulations indeed! Know this, my blue and bouncy friend. I have had a replacement prepared for some time, but when I heard about your exploits, I decided that it wasn¡¯t good enough. Did you know that I am also an enchanter? To think that Phantom would end up in the hands of an Illusionist was more than I had hoped. I have enclosed a certain ring that I have always found to be an excellent companion to the blade. Could you please see that our friend Pliesson receives it? And finally, a word about your new challenge; every beginner dungeon ever created has been either three or five rooms. Not four, nor two. And certainly not six. At least, not until now. Because you are the first, there is nobody to warn you. Therefore I will; you are facing the world¡¯s first six room beginner dungeon. I assure you that it is not impossible. A full party of sheyol sazal should be able to finish it, if they properly budget their resources. Of course, I thought the same about my last dungeon as well, until you came along. Suffice it to say that this one is significantly more difficult than the last one. Every room, a Boss. Every Boss, a key. I wish you good fortune. Lieber Cant.¡±


    The ring was a thick, silver band with a tiny emerald sunken into the metal itself. He passed it to Pliesson, who placed it onto the table to be identified. Casting Talbon¡¯s Shadows, major illusion once per day. Pliesson picked it up, astonished, and put it on his thumb. He smiled around the table. ¡°Major Illusion. Crazy.¡±


    This reminded Zuglah of the unidentified loot that he still had in his bag. He pulled out the ornate lance, chain cowl, short sword, necklace and the two disparate daggers. By the time they had their little pile of goods, they also had a bit of a crowd.


    He placed the lance in front of Chayah. ¡°Can you use this?¡±


    She looked at him in surprise. ¡°You¡¯re giving it to me? But you haven¡¯t even Identified it yet.¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve got Redda Mo, and Pliesson has Phantom. So it only makes sense. I¡¯ve never seen you with a weapon, so I thought maybe you didn¡¯t have one you liked.¡±


    She smiled. ¡°Well it certainly is a pretty weapon. Let¡¯s see if it¡¯s any good.¡± They Identified it together. Spear of Allegiance, changes hearts and minds, returns when summoned.


    ¡°Ooh, that sounds neat. I¡¯ll have to try it out. Thanks, Zuglah!¡± She gave him a warm hug. He could have pointed out that she had been there when they found it, but that would have sounded too much like objecting.


    The chain cowl was next, although none of them could wear such a thing. Intractable Helm, cannot be moved. Some of the students watching suggested they give it to the party tank, or healer. Zuglah silently agreed.


    He picked up the necklace and investigated it. Antonia¡¯s Aumna, undead-repellant aura. That sounded very handy. Zuglah wondered how powerful of an undead it could affect.


    The short sword was called Sword of Warning, nearby enemies trigger an alert. Zuglah wasn¡¯t sure what he was going to do with it, but for now he dropped it into his Bag of Holding.


    That just left them with two daggers.


    He learned that daggers were often worn just like any other talisman. The vast majority would confer a status effect, whether they were drawn or not. Wearing two daggers, however, would negate both. Briarthorn was pretty well known around The Glout, both the fact that he possessed it and its ability. People assured him that he could wear a status dagger without worry.


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    He grew more curious by the word, until he finally just Identified one of the knives. It was a smaller blade, a clever handle made of some kind of horn or antler. His spell told him it was called, Seeping Vapors, enemies that come within ten feet choke up.


    And the other blade looked like the dagger version of a rapier, with a thin, bladed foil meant for lunging and piercing. It was even called Proxy Foil. Proxy Foil, wield a floating blade.


    He immediately handed Proxy Foil over to Pliesson. It sounded very much like Phantom, or at least close to the same effect. He told the Driole that he hoped that he could figure out some way to make the two work together. Pliesson nodded thoughtfully.


    They agreed to meet on the ground floor at lunch, because that was where Denton and Warwick would meet them, if they got the message and agreed to come.


    His morning was occupied with Firebolts and Lightning bolts, summoning Spiders and helgavolts. His class was entirely preoccupied with advice about what he was likely to face inside the new dungeon.


    ¡°Lieber Cant loves the Bea Thic. You can be sure that you¡¯ll see them again.¡± This advice came from a Human woman unsolicited, when he asked her for help with his Lightning Bolts. He had mistaken her for one of his instructors because of her gray hair and her loud manner, but it turned out that she was a student that liked to gossip. And who was no help when it came to Lightning Bolts. She would much rather speculate about what the next iteration of the school¡¯s dungeon might look like.


    A Half Elf sidled up to him and let him know just how sinister Drow could be. ¡°Beware of traps. Every time I went into Spellman¡¯s, I always searched for them. I¡¯m convinced that they were there, even if nobody ever found them.¡± Zuglah didn¡¯t know all the nuances of traps exactly, but he was pretty sure that in order for them to work, sooner or later you had to find them.


    Slorric had some insights as well. It seemed that even the faculty had taken to arguing among themselves about the next dungeon. Zuglah hadn¡¯t told anyone that he had received a letter from Lieber Cant, and apparently Gamstone and Pliesson had been frugal with the information as well. Considering the level of attention he was getting without it, he was just as glad.


    ¡°Remember that he comes from the Nightside, just as you do. It would hardly surprise me if he brought a little taste of home to his next effort.¡± Slorric and the other teachers seemed to be looking forward to the new training grounds more than even the students. Zuglah figured that they would have to visit these dungeons hundreds of times each, whereas the students only had to run it a dozen times at most.


    It wasn¡¯t just in class, either. Zuglah was beset by students in the hallways, and faculty in the kitchens. Random custodians whose job was to keep the tower chambers clean and without dust all seemed to have a keen insight that nobody else thought of.


    ¡°He¡¯s a werewolf, you know.¡± Zuglah was walking back from his lessons when he heard a voice at random from a seemingly empty corridor. He looked around, but still could see nobody.


    ¡°Excuse me? Who¡¯s a werewolf, exactly?¡± He found it incredible that in a world with real magic in it people would still believe in fairy tales.


    ¡°Lieber Cant. He¡¯s a werewolf. He will be your final Boss!¡± Zuglah searched frantically, but could find nobody. He cast Detect Magic and Identify everywhere he could, but found no invisible or animated objects.


    ¡°Who am I talking to, exactly? Will you come out where I can see you, please?¡±


    He caught a smell, one he had encountered before. Only he could not place it. It nagged at him. Then, the scent and the presence were gone.


    Zuglah arrived in the courtyard to find that Wizard Gamstone¡¯s message had indeed arrived. Denton and Warwick were there, as was Pliesson. Chayah arrived shortly after Zuglah.


    ¡°What did I miss?¡± Chayah was almost out of breath, as though she had run the whole way, whether from tardiness or excitement Zuglah could not tell. Zuglah introduced her to the two newcomers, who were surprised but not displeased to find that she was of higher caliber than Randall.


    Denton turned to him. ¡°Zuglah, would you do the honors, seeing as it¡¯s your quest?¡± It was his first time forming any kind of a group. He mentally invited them all, felt as they crowded into his awareness with a warmth and gratitude that he found comforting.


    Zuglah and Chayah walked them through the details of the quest, with Zuglah giving them a boiled down version of his first Instance and Boss Fight. He also had to explain where he found the Intractable Helm, which led to the Mountain Drake.


    Denton marveled, ¡°It sounds like you¡¯ve been busy. A Mountain Drake? I would need at least three Heals to solo one, and I¡¯ve got resistances. Maybe you should tank, and I¡¯ll learn how to throw a firebolt.¡±


    Zuglah grinned, saying that there was no joy greater than casting your first firebolt. ¡°Unless it¡¯s Blink. That¡¯s going to be my favorite spell for a long time, I believe.¡±


    ¡°Well I have to admit, you sure know how to use it. Okay, from what you have told me it doesn¡¯t sound like we need to lay in stores or supplies. At least for this next bit. But this isn¡¯t Preyd. How do you propose that we get there?¡± Chayah explained about the Inn full of siblings that she planned to draw upon, the first of which was Krane. Denton nodded thoughtfully. ¡°It might suit us better to use a sender¡¯s service in the future, though. There are safeguards in place that will afford us a greater measure of safety, should things go poorly. I do not know your brother Krane, but I don¡¯t know a lot of High Elves who enjoy following a group of overcooked noodles around on a quest.¡±


    ¡°Krane¡¯s not like that,¡± Zuglah told him. ¡°He seems to be keeping vigil on this town simply because his sister is going to school here. Actually, there¡¯s a lot of them. We may never have to pay for a single portal ever.¡± Zuglah didn¡¯t actually mind paying for the portals, they sounded expensive but worth it. He also felt like they could rely on Krane. Zuglah trusted him, and said  so. Chayah beamed at him.


    They left the tower in search of the Elf, and found him sitting on the roof of the big inn with a large crowd of Elves and servants. On a beautiful night such as this the torches were lit and the wards against mosquitoes renewed, and a full-roast suckling pig was turning on a spit. Zuglah wondered what the Drioles had done with all of the extra wild boar meat that they had recently come into. He hoped they were able to make use of it somehow.


    Chayah waved at Krane from the street, and he blinked. It always astonished Zuglah to learn that a powerful Wizard whom he admired didn¡¯t know the fast version. But Gamstone had told him that very few people ever learned it, because it could not be taught.


    ¡°And so?¡± Krane asked as he landed with a soft clap of air. ¡°Are you making your play for the gronnibox then?¡± Zuglah opened the small book of maps and showed him their destination.


    A sickly green and orange vapor swirled itself into the mists of a burgeoning portal, and then it snapped into shape like a bubble. Rows of regimented crops could be seen marching towards the horizon. ¡°The Stogar Estates. Do you want me to keep it open?¡±


    ¡°No thank you, Krane. I¡¯m not sure what is in store for us, but I will summon you if needs be. Zuglah Glun will see us through. That much I do know.¡± She gave her brother a quick hug, then strode through the portal. Her presence in his head shrank down to insignificance and Zuglah¡¯s only thought was to get across the portal to protect her, so he merely nodded to Krane and walked through. The rest of the party soon followed.


    He didn¡¯t think that he would be able to detect any difference, but somehow he could. The air smelled different, better. The sky looked more blue. The farmers, angrier.

 Chapter Twenty Seven: Crouching Wizard, Hidden Maiden

    Chapter Twenty Seven: Crouching Wizard, Hidden Maiden


    The farmer was quite annoyed to have a party appear on his property, fully armed and armored. He had no fear that he was under attack, the reason being that Preyd had a very robust justice system, and it heavily favored those who grew crops for its citizens. Besides, he knew a questing party when he saw one.


    His annoyance was mollified by the news that they were interested in his grandfather¡¯s old records pertaining to the Hallowed Mills and Ardent Glen environs. Aylmer Stogar might not be the historian that his ancestors had been, but he could pinch a penny with the best of them.


    His great disdain for the fancy book learnin¡¯ that folks put so much stock in was readily apparent in the sorry state of the records. They were piled high in the corner and along one wall inside a dusty, unused greenhouse. It was clear to Zuglah that some angry creature had definitely used a lot of paper as a nest to give birth in, perhaps two summers gone. And a cat was currently making the stacks a home. ¡°Beware of the cat,¡± he warned. ¡°It smells feral.¡±


    ¡°All Stupplah wants is a leg to rub on, and a rat to chew. But yes, keep your distance. He¡¯s a mean old bastard.¡± Aylmer sounded somewhat proud of the beast.


    Zuglah gave the man a gold coin for permission to root through the stacks and boxes of books. They were able to sort through it rather quickly because there were five of them, and they were only looking for maps. Older maps from perhaps a hundred years ago? Two hundred? This was the part that they weren¡¯t sure of.


    It turned out that there were a lot of maps and a couple of almanacs with beautiful, hand-drawn, full color renderings of the entire province. And they were ordered by date.


    The only problem was, they were all too small to have the kind of detail that they were looking for. Chayah asked Aylmer if they had anything more localized.


    He gave his chin a good scratch and thought. ¡°Old Tholand Howl that lives not more than three miles from here has a map under glass, mounted on his wall like it was high art. I accused him of only displaying it because it strongly implies that most of this whole tract used to belong to his family. I told him that¡¯s nothing to be so proud of! It means that some ancestor of his lost it all!¡±


    He sure sounded like the person they were after. If this map was not old enough, perhaps this Farmer Howl would know where there might be one older.


    Zuglah gave the farmer another gold coin, which made Warwick choke. ¡°Zuglah, forfend your purse strings, I beg you. Perhaps I can handle the negotiations? Otherwise it is going to cost us a fortune to find this Constant Maiden of yours.¡±


    Aylmer laughed. ¡°What would you want with that old haunt? You can¡¯t bring a bright young lass like her into a bawdy house!¡±


    ¡°You know of the Constant Maiden?¡± Zuglah could not believe his luck. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t even that old.


    ¡°Everybody does. Constant Maiden¡¯s been in this province for three hundred years. Of course, it wasn¡¯t always a cat house. And it wasn¡¯t always in Crimson Crossing, either. The one on Old Howl¡¯s map, for example, shows it as being a tavern in Fording Loops.¡±


    Hmmm. Zuglah asked, ¡°Have you ever heard of the Stanish Manor? Or Lord Stanish? He has a crypt a couple leagues to the East.¡±


    The farmer was nodding. ¡°Of course. Who do you think Old Howl¡¯s family used to work for? Entire Stanish bloodline got wiped out, and Howl¡¯s great great something or other just took it up. Been falling apart in stages ever since.¡±


    ¡°And the Tar Witch? Have you heard of her?¡± Denton asked quietly.


    The old man¡¯s face was like stone. ¡°We don¡¯t call her that. Mistress Stinda or even The Wren, but never Witch. She doesn¡¯t like it any more. Best you go see Old Tholand now.¡± He explained to them exactly how to travel from this lane directly to the farmstead, then wished them good fortune. When he closed his heavy farmhouse door, they distinctly heard the lock fall into place.


    The feeling of the sky began to change as they walked. First, the sweltering heat of the summer afternoon began to wane, and then a breeze ran through the wheat and corn grown tall. After an hour, they were peering nervously at the sky and the black and gray clouds that were quickly overtaking them. The air grew chilly, and began spitting on them.


    Zuglah regretted not buying or borrowing some horses. He could see now how the riding lessons were necessary for getting along on quests. He started to worry that the others might want to go home for now and come back with horses and warmer clothes. He wouldn¡¯t mind a snug cloak himself.


    The lane sloped down and seemed to be heading towards a fork. There wasn¡¯t a signpost, but it appeared that one fork went to the right behind a copse of trees and sloped downwards. Zuglah unconsciously picked up his pace, hoping that the trees would afford them some small measure of shelter from the wind. Everyone else began moving eagerly also, and before long they were trotting.


    Zuglah had time to wrack his brains. It made no sense. Aylmer Stogar had said that this lane would run for another league at least, yet the road forward ended abruptly. There had been no mention of a fork. Denton was the first one to round the corner, and he stopped with a sigh of relief. Zuglah saw that down the hill, tucked into the back of the forest with a wide yard for horses and plenty of stables and cottages, stood a large brick and stone building of at least five stories. The activity in the yard alone was thriving, with three young stable boys tending to a large, steaming train of horses that had clearly arrived moments ago. The team of six horses had been pulling a large luxury coach with a pursuant wagon attached.


    While the boys watered and brushed the horses, a footman was handing down a pair of ladies in colorful, elaborate gowns and petticoats. A group of men were decoupling the wagon and manually shoving it backwards around the side of the building that was out of view from them. Zuglah assumed there would be a storage or cold room around that side.


    A rather large delegation, led by another fancy lady, was just exiting the front of the building to greet the two newcomers. Their bags were secured and umbrellas provided by men who would not dream of sharing in the shelter the umbrellas afforded. The rain was turning cold, and everyone was bustled inside. This seemed to be what Denton was waiting for. ¡°Okay let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°Thank the Gods,¡± Chayah said, shivering. Her tunic was thicker than Zuglah¡¯s, but her blood was a lot thinner. Zuglah had been much colder than this when he was younger.


    They piled onto the path and trod down the hill eagerly. Without the welcome delegation, nobody in sight was turned in their direction. It seemed that they weren¡¯t used to people coming from this path. Zuglah could see that there was a much larger, more active crossroads here, and a tall stone guidepost sat directly across from the front doors. They were well down the hill and approaching the inn when one of the stableboys happened to turn and spot them. He called out, waving, and the rest of the boys and men stopped to look. Some looked behind them up the slope, as though they were expecting to see more people behind them. Or perhaps wondering where they might be coming from, knowing better than Zuglah what might lay beyond Farmer Stogar¡¯s fields. Perhaps there was nothing.


    And yet they were welcome enough. Before they were well inside the yard, the same resplendent lady was at the top of the landing, regally ignoring the ever colder rain. Her large salmon-colored hat was lavishly adorned with vibrantly colored feathers of some humungus bird, and her many petticoats were pinned high up on her hip to display the sheer number and variety.


    ¡°Please forgive the weather, fine gentlemen. And lady. I have never succeeded in teaching it proper manners. But the table is full and close to the hearth. My name is Landie Jentrugh, and if you need anything just ask for me. I¡¯m the owner.¡±


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    Warwick looked around admiringly. ¡°This¡¯ll do. But I don¡¯t see the name of the establishment on this sign, or that one either.¡± He pointed towards the crossroads with his chin, then towards the front of the inn where the sign was absent.


    Landie merely shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s never been a need for one. The stagecoach goes through Huxton, Allini and Borgh. But there¡¯s no town between Borgh and Sheleh, so it stops here instead. The Constant Maiden has been on this spot for well over a hundred years, although the name has changed, sometimes frequently, over the span. It has always been a point of contention in my family.¡±


    They thanked Landie as she ushered them inside. ¡°We are here doing some local research,¡± Chayah told her as they entered. The lady slipped an arm through Chayah¡¯s elbow and held it as they talked. ¡°Do you know Aylmer Stogar and his kin?¡± Landie shook her head.


    Almost every table was occupied with peasant farmers and tradesmen, drinking after a long day¡¯s labor. The two women who were traveling on the stagecoach were stationed in the corner, at a table by the stairs. There were the occasional dwarf, gnome, halfling and half elf scattered through the crowd, but wearing the same drab homespun as the rest of the locals.


    The entire ground floor seemed to be dedicated to the inn¡¯s tavern, with barely a thought to anyone who might be looking for rooms. Perhaps this was why Landie chose to meet her guests outside, to better determine which of her business¡¯ services they had come for.


    She installed them at a large, thick oak table that was indeed close to the hearth and cozily warm. Promising to have a pitcher of mulled, spiced wine sent over immediately, she bade them enjoy their stay then bustled herself into the kitchens.


    As soon as she was out of earshot, Warwick leaned forward. ¡°Zuglah, are we inside an Instance? Are these people real? She doesn¡¯t even know her own neighbor.¡± He didn¡¯t have any answers.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I really wish Caldwell was here. I could tell that he had some idea about what was happening before, but I didn¡¯t get a chance to ask him. We were on our way back to camp from the Stanish fight when Boland and Steenie just up and whisked him away. It all happened so fast.¡± He stared into his cup of wine for a minute before he realized that everyone else had gone silent. Staring.


    ¡°What was he like? Boland The Bronze?¡± Denton asked him eagerly.


    Zuglah shrugged, trying to recall meeting the man. ¡°Tall. Shiny. Had this insane aura about him. He was the scariest person I¡¯ve ever met.¡± The Fighter nodded. About what he expected.


    ¡°Still,¡± Pliesson said. ¡°That doesn¡¯t help us much in our current situation. A dungeon can have an instance, because it is part and parcel with the enchantment. But a country lane? Impossible.¡± The Driole explained to them that he had been educating himself on dungeon creation lately, since Lieber Cant had mentioned him in Zuglah¡¯s letter. It was a deep part of the game, some said the whole point, to embed an instance into a dungeon enchantment.


    Chayah leaned forward. ¡°And here¡¯s another thing. This is most definitely not the dilapidated bawdy house that Aylmer Stogar described. This is a thriving tavern and inn that has not moved in a century. Do you think that we have somehow traveled to this Fording Loops? The Priest is correct, the owner is close enough to know every person living at that farm. I wager that if you asked her who her neighbors were, she would give you different names entirely.¡± Everyone was looking around the room with renewed interest.


    ¡°Okay, yes.¡± Denton pulled the group¡¯s focus back to the table. ¡°I agree that it¡¯s strange and it doesn¡¯t make sense. But you know what? It doesn¡¯t really have to. I¡¯ll bet that whatever version of the Constant Maiden we¡¯ve arrived at, it has a certain item right where it¡¯s supposed to be. That is all that¡¯s important, wouldn¡¯t you agree, Zuglah?¡±


    He nodded to the Fighter. ¡°We need to get behind the stables unseen so we can dig. I think that night would be the best time for that. Nobody will be out who doesn¡¯t have to be.¡± They all agreed that was the best plan. That meant that they would be staying for supper. Zuglah thought that they should get rooms, because once it became dark nobody traveled, especially on foot.


    Chayah said, ¡°Why don¡¯t you let me handle this one, Zuglah? I think she likes me.¡± He nodded.


    When Landie floated near, Chayah summoned her with a smile and a friendly wave. ¡°What time does the coach leave in the morning?¡±


    Landie replied, ¡°An hour after sunrise. You can get tickets from the driver.¡±


    Chayah nodded. ¡°Wonderful. Do you have three rooms available?¡± She handed a small pile of coins over to Landie, but not before Zuglah spotted the gleam of gold. The innkeeper pocketed the money swiftly. She assured them that rooms would not be a problem.


    They ordered dinner. Now that they were guests, it was complimentary. They ate and drank and enjoyed the evening, almost forgetting that they were in the middle of a quest until Denton finished a toast with, ¡°Anybody who¡¯s left, should be drunk enough not to notice us. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Denton was the only person in the group who didn¡¯t have any sort of night vision. Fortunately, the Driole was able to give him infravision, which is what most of the party was using naturally except for Chayah and Zuglah.


    The compound¡¯s fencing was such that the only real way to get behind the stables was to go around the entire inn in the opposite direction. At the back, there was still a fence to hop but at least it wasn¡¯t in full view of the front door and the yard boys, who were still cleaning up.


    Zuglah tried to recall what the Lord of Stanish Manor had said, exactly. The last stable. All the way towards the back. There was another fence here, and two trees growing alongside them. They were directly beside where they should be digging. Denton and Zuglah took the first shifts, the third shovel that he had pulled from his Bag laying on the ground nearby. There was not room for three to dig, unless they started another hole.


    After making an awful lot of noise they finally found an iron-bound wooden chest with glyphs carved into the front, top and sides. When they had uncovered it fully it was a rectangle, four feet across and three feet wide. Zuglah put a corner of the box into his Portable Hole and snapped it like a bow string. The gronnibox, if that was indeed what it was, disappeared inside with a shudder. Zuglah rolled up the Hole, and stuffed it inside his potion sling.


    A male¡¯s cry of alarm, high pitched and scared, sounded from the front yard. Zuglah¡¯s blood ran cold, having picked out the word ¡°Orcs!¡± from that shout. He fumbled in his Bag until he finally found Redda Mo. He looked at Denton.


    ¡°What do you think?¡±


    The Fighter was not shaken. He calmly pressed his finger to his lips, and Zuglah realized that he had probably spoken a bit loudly. Perhaps he should try to emulate Denton¡¯s calm.


    They crept the way they had come, the long way around the building in the dark. It began to grow louder around the front, with more shouting and the sounds of horses. The voices were now harsh and guttural. ¡°Are they speaking Goad?¡± Chayah whispered.


    Zuglah was growing hot in the cheeks. Was that what he sounded like when he spoke with The Skeeley Hag, or the Southern Taurens? He hoped not. They snuck around the side of the building, trying to see what was happening.


    It was a full party of Orcs. Their horses were all loose and standing around the front gate, where the Orcs had entered on foot. This was wise of them, because an untrained mount could panic badly in a fight. More than one overly eager adventurer had perished because he had thought that a horse was a horse, and they were all the same. It seemed that these Orcs were cheap with their coin.


    The footmen and the stableboys were lined up at the bottom of the stairs, the six of them looking laughably overmatched by the Orc warriors confronting them. The men were visibly shaking, holding pitchforks and wood axes in front of themselves in the hopes of defending their lives from the savagery before them.


    The Orcs were nothing if not eager. The one who was clearly in charge was massive, as tall as Zuglah but almost as heavily muscled as a Dwarf. He had a cured leather breastplate over a mail shirt, and he was casually wearing a long falchion with a flared, serrated tip that seemed designed to disarm opponents in brutal measure. He had a cruel intelligence in his eyes that was every bit as frightening to Zuglah as his sword.


    The two fighters flanking him on either side could have been brothers. They both sported the warrior¡¯s topknot favored by Orcish heroes, The man on the left dressed in an iron torc and bracers stylized like sleeping dragons, and the one on his right-hand side, banded leather. Both men held small wooden shields and had sheathed short swords.


    Behind them, a Cleric and Wizard stood back, both looking bored with the whole situation. Or perhaps they were distracted, Zuglah saw. The pair was standing close together, discussing something. They were holding a map in front of them while the Cleric pointed a softly glowing finger back and forth. The Cleric was wearing a flat, black set of armor that reminded Zuglah of Stanish, although he carried a long-handled war hammer instead of a mace. The Wizard had on a dark brown robe with a deep cowl and golden, stitched letters in Orcish running up the left sleeve. His quarterstaff was plain, but iron shod.


    Zuglah barely had time to register the group when Denton was pushing them back around the corner. They moved back until they could whisper. ¡°If it comes to a fight, I can take the big fellow, and the far one, too. Me and Warwick. Zuglah, can you handle the other swordsman? With the banded leather?¡± Zuglah was about to nod, reluctantly, when Pliesson stepped in.


    ¡°I can take that fellow down, Denton.¡± The Fighter gave him a stern look, trying to detect his thinking. Finally, he nodded. Then he turned to Chayah.


    ¡°Chayah, can you and Zuglah get that caster? He looks tough.¡± Chayah assured him that they would do so, then attack the Priest as hard as they could. The Fighter nodded, satisfied. ¡°Good. Then let¡¯s go see if they want to fight.¡±

 Chapter Twenty Eight: New Spell, Who Dis?

    Chapter Twenty Eight: New Spell, Who Dis?


    Basho Bal was his name, and he didn¡¯t have time for this. His patience was at an all-time low, and he was very tempted to sweep the men and boys aside and just enter the tavern. He needed to talk to the woman who owned this place, but he did not want to have to control the locals in order to do it.


    The problem with merely entering the establishment was, he would have to take the pitchfork and the wood axes away from the Humans blocking his path. If one of them tried to menace Goha Za, it would mean instant bloodshed. Judging by their size, some of these Humans were quite young, and therefore even more likely to make a mistake that got them all killed.


    ¡°Okay, we get it. You don¡¯t serve Orcs. Even though it''s raining, and we have coin. Will you just tell the woman who owns this place that we need to talk to her?¡± The men looked at each other without moving. Basho felt his frustration mount a little higher.


    ¡°Basho.¡± Salla had eyes left, so Basho looked to the left. Dammit.


    Some sort of a Human, in steel armor and glowing like a true believer. And there was his Priest, who was also half a Human. Basho folded his arms and waited, certain that he would see a full party before they were through. The High Elf was no surprise, but the Driole surely was. Why would a varmint be all the way in Peyd?


    If the Driole was a surprise, the last member of their party absolutely shocked Basho.


    Bringing up the rear, wearing blue and green robes and weilding a runestick, was a Troll. Basho looked over at Gor Thenz, who gave him an alarmed look and subtly held up three fingers. So he was either Mag Endoz or, if they were incredibly stupid, Mad Morlz. Either way they didn¡¯t have much of a chance. Already mohaz gamza? The entire party likely couldn¡¯t kill him. And if he was Mad Morlz, they¡¯d be lucky to get out of this alive. What was he doing with these Humans? Was the foolish Elf woman teaching him?


    ¡°That¡¯s about enough of that.¡± The Human declared pompously in Common. Basho ignored him, addressing the Troll in Goad.


    ¡°Little Brother, where did you find such a ridiculous group? I know some hearty young adventurers who would be honored to have a fearsome magician like you in their party. There¡¯s no need to humiliate yourself in this fashion.¡± The Troll stepped forward, and Basho saw that he was younger than he had first thought. He was tall, his lowers proclaiming him Lowlands tribe. His claws looked stiff and sharp but unused. He held the quarterstaff like he knew how to wield it. His gear was clip, as the kids liked to say. What was he doing with Humans? Did they know he was magus? Probably. Humans were reckless.


    ¡°You don¡¯t like my friends? You just haven¡¯t taken the time to get to know them. What are you doing here, if I may ask?¡± His accent was crisp and smooth, pure Peyd. Wherever he had met these allies of his though, it certainly wasn¡¯t around here.


    Basho was even more certain that they were inside a Walking Dream. Instance, the Humans called it. The Drow referred to it as an Enchanter¡¯s Dungeon, which Basho had always thought was the most accurate. Most adventurers thought that such magical questing dungeons were singular events, never realizing that the only reason they didn¡¯t see a party of the opposite faction was timing. The enchantment would even go out of its way to compress or stretch time in an effort to get two groups to run concurrent parties. In the past, the most arduous quests and the rarest rewards were all made with competition and cooperation strategies in mind.


    ¡°The same as you. We are here on a quest to defeat The Tar Witch and free the Stanish Manor and bloodline from the curse. How else could we be inside this enchantment with you?¡±


    ¡°So it is an Instance.¡± The Driole sounded self-satisfied, as though he had just won a debate in his mind. He looked around suspiciously, as though he could discern the truth or illusion of things simply by looking hard enough. Basho was fairly certain that the varmint was an Illusionist, which meant that he probably had an idea how it was made, if not why. Gor Thenz held up four fingers when he glanced over. They were all so green.


    ¡°All I wish is to consult with the woman who owns this establishment. Then I will be on my way.¡± He spoke slowly, in Common, even though he knew perfectly well that they understood his Goad.


    The Human, who Basho judged was very likely a competent fighter, replied just as deliberately in Goad, ¡°You will not have the gronnibox, Orc. You are too late.¡± He was a head shorter than Basho was, and weighed significantly less, but he radiated confidence. It was an admirable act.


    ¡°Keep your spirits, Human. She has knowledge that we seek, that is all. Then we can leave you to it.¡±


    The Human turned to one of the peasants who worked in the yard. ¡°See if Mistress Jentrugh will come to the door. I promise that she will be safe from harm. They are not liars, or agents of Chaos.¡± He hadn¡¯t looked closely enough at their Cleric.


    The oldest of the Humans took the opportunity to dash up the stairs and through the door, pressing his wood axe into the hands of the adolescent standing on the stairs behind him. Basho watched him speak to a woman in fancy, colorful clothing, who had been peering out one of the nearest windows, most likely listening to every word. Hopefully, she would deign to speak to them.


    He thought that a little courtesy of his own might go a long way, at this point. He turned back, his mouth opened to say thank you. He had intended to say it to the Human, since he was still standing directly in front of him. Except as he turned, he was just in time to see the tall, young Troll become engulfed in flames. He exploded in a Fireball.


    **********


    Zuglah was surprised, to say the least.


    First, he was bathed in flames. Then the Fireball exploded. He exploded.


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    He didn¡¯t know what was more frightening, and which was more painful. The explosion of flames was accompanied by a clap of thunder that rattled his brain from the inside out. He felt like a giant had slapped his skin from head to toe, or his entire body had been stung by venomous wasps. Of the friendly people around him, it appeared as though only Denton was still on his feet. Warwick was quickest to rise, raising his hammer to his lips and whispering. Zuglah felt the stinging on his skin abate immediately.


    Pliesson and Chayah were both up, circling around to put the fighters between them and trouble. They both looked a bit shaken, but the Healing had done its job.


    The Orcs had fared a little better. None of them appeared to have been knocked down, or at least they had regained their feet before Zuglah could spare them any attention. The peasants on the stairs, however, were all down and refused or were unable to get up. Denton and Warwick began hauling them inside the doors as quickly as they could.


    Zuglah became aware of the screaming of horses. He spun around in time to see that all five of the Orc¡¯s mounts were rearing and kicking, bucking and running. There was a small, slow crowd of what could only be zombies surrounding them, and Zuglah was glad now of the Orcish habit of dropping their reins instead of tying them. The horses seemed to escape virtually unharmed.


    Zuglah was not so sure that the rest of them would be saying the same thing. Everywhere he looked, there were pockets of zombies, perhaps six strong. And every single one of them had an accompanying creature. There appeared to be Ghouls, and Wights, Spectres and Banshee. There were Sketal swordsmen flanked by archers and spearmen, shield bearers and pikemen.


    They came as a slow moving army, coming down the same hill that they themselves had come down, but following no path. They came out of the woods on one side, or down the hill through the tall corn field on the other. And, glowing an icy, cold white-blue aura that seemed too bright in the evening darkness, came the Lich.


    She had a screech that probably frightened even the Banshee, with sickly, green miasma seeping from her scalp and down through her thin, cobweb hair. The poison mist surrounded her. Her crown was tangled into that mess, resting atop the grinning skeleton face and imbuing her with Eldritch power. She floated along like a Spectre, but was neither Undead nor strictly speaking alive.


    To either side of her were two ponderous, clay and stone Gargoyles. They moved in jerks and fits, incredible bursts of energy required to shift each arm, or flap a wing. The only time they became animated and smooth was in battle. Their anger allowed them to function at frightening speeds and efficiency. To reign in a pair of them at once would require either an iron will or their devoted loyalty. Either way it did not bode well.


    A brilliant bolt of lightning came from above and lit the Lich from the inside, spreading across the ground and jumping to both of the Gargoyles. Zuglah was sure that had been Chayah, he had seen her use that same Heavy Lightning spell against the feral hogs.


    Zuglah himself didn¡¯t have anything that could reach that far, but he agreed that the Lich was their most dangerous opponent. It was most likely who had hit him with the Fireball. He really wanted it to come within range.


    He sent a barrage of Dancing Mana towards the zombies that had attacked the horses. They were the closest, and had managed to batter their way through the front gate. Even upgraded, the barrage of five bullets failed to drop the first of the zombies. When he hit it with The Ice Blade, it stubbornly refused to go down. The whole group of them slowed right down to a crawl, but they kept coming. A chill wind tickled his hair, his ears, the back of his neck. It turned to ice, and he began to feel fearful. It was all he could do not to run. Warwick shouted something he couldn¡¯t hear, then dispelled his fear. He turned back to Denton without a word.


    An aura began glowing in front of Zuglah. It was sickly at first, then shot through with veins of silver. The ardent color swiftly overtook the greenish, swampy gaseousness and turned it to mist. In the form of a woman.


    Zuglah could see a glistening, dewey face. She was even young, and pretty for a Human. She smiled, and whispered secrets that he absolutely had to hear. He leaned in, thinking that perhaps she wouldn¡¯t mind just one quick kiss¡­ after all, they were in love, weren¡¯t they?


    Blessed Light bathed them both. His new Beloved looked confused, then hurt. Swiftly that  turned to fury and she screamed in Zuglah¡¯s face as she caught fire. A white, Holy fire that stripped away her beauty and youth, turning her from an effervescent being of mist and delicate light to a dark, ancient malevolence that was inches away from pulling his soul out of his body through his puckered lips.


    With a cry of alarm and perhaps a little disgust, he leapt backwards and sprayed her with a Blast of Frost. As she slowed, he was able to pull back until Denton and Warwick were holding him upright and bracing him. ¡°Zuglah c¡¯mon, man. Twice? Have you never met a Ghost before?¡± He had, but Warwick didn¡¯t wait for a reply. He just shoved the much taller Troll behind himself so he could focus on keeping his Fighter hale.


    Zuglah was too embarrassed to look over at Chayah, so he cast his single Bolt towards the group of zombies that had been with the Ghost. He pushed mana through the Bolt until it had jumped to the entire squad, then threw another. On his third one, the whole group was decimated. They were burned, barely alive or moving, and Denton was able to kill them all in seconds.


    But it had taken way too long. These zombies were just one group, and there were dozens of groups. The huge Orc was shoulder to shoulder with Denton, and the two of them moved out into the yard. They squeezed and contained the zombies between them with their shields, while silver chains wrapped the Wight that accompanied them. It gibbered, and then shuddered as it was enveloped in a strangling darkness.


    It was an effective tactic, but the problem was that an entire other group of zombies was falling upon Denton from behind, led by a floating Spectre. The Orcish Champion was being flanked in a similar way, but his two sibling bodyguards had jumped in to intercept that squad. Zuglah could see no other choice. He blinked.


    Upon landing, Zuglah snarled as loudly as he could. Not because he hoped to intimidate a bunch of zombies; they were dead, after all. But his Push spell depended upon how much inner will he could muster. He Pushed.


    He most likely could have flung any one zombie pretty far, because they were brainless. But the sheer weight of trying to shove six zombies and a Spectre was insurmountable. He had thought that because the Spectre was floating it would be an easy target, and if he had used his body that might have been true.


    But he had been trying to throw the Spectre with his mind, and unlike its feet, the Spectre¡¯s mind had all the traction it could ever need. Add in six almost weightless, but not quite, zombies, and the result was Zuglah flinging himself backwards to crash into Denton.


    The pair of them went down in a heap. Zuglah had to physically crawl off of his friend, then haul him to his feet amid a group of slowly snarling brain munchers. This time, Zuglah Pushed each zombie in rapid succession, but focused on spelling them away one at a time. They flew a satisfying distance, but it was not quick.


    ¡°Sorry. It¡¯s a new spell.¡± He grinned at Denton, who shot him a quick laugh.


    ¡°Zuglah, you¡¯ve done in two weeks what takes most new Wizards as much as two years. It¡¯s nothing to be sorry for.¡± He grinned back, which made him look youthful and boyish. ¡°But still, let¡¯s stop embarrassing ourselves in front of the Orcs, okay?¡±


    Zuglah agreed that sounded like a good plan. The Lich did not.


    They both looked up at the bone-rattling screech from directly above them. The two gargoyles had flown, pushing the floating Lich along, until she was a hundred feet directly above them.


    As she rained down sleet and ice and lightning all around them, the two stone monsters simply folded in their vast, bat-like wings and became siege-engine sized boulders, falling on them from the skies.