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Beginning of a Hero (Legends of Windemere)

Page 11

by Charles E Yallowitz


  “What just happened?” Luke inquires, staring from the gnome to Selenia.

  “Fritz Warrenberg is back from Gaia,” Nimby replies nonchalantly, smiling and shaking his head. “He is the resident siege weapon expert and an illusionist. He is also a famous inventor, one time royal jester, biological chronicler, sheep breeder, and, in his words, purveyor of women’s hearts. I think I’ll talk to him after breakfast. Fritz always has the latest gossip and interesting stories when he gets back from a big city. You should make some time to meet him, Luke, but don’t volunteer for any of his tests. He’s still paying off the damage from his last experiment.”

  Luke smiles as he glances at to the greasy gnome in the corner. Fritz is still eating his breakfast with a big grin on his face, occasionally looking around at the students. At first it appears that he is mindlessly scanning the room, but Luke notices that he tends to stop for a brief instant before looking somewhere else. It takes a minute for Luke to follow one of his momentary gazes to a beautiful half-elven girl a few tables ahead of him. The gnome’s eyes eventually roam to the redhead that he scared with a sheep. He stops his girl watching when a towering female orc catches his stare and glares at him with her intense green eyes. Fritz attempts to stare the tall beauty down until she casually pops her knuckles. Thoroughly intimidated, the gnome goes back to pushing his food around his plate.

  “He’s definitely an interesting character,” Luke admits while Nimby waves to the gnome. “So, do you know anything about that half-elf priest?”

  “I only know the basics. His name is Aedyn Karwyn and he is a mid-ranked priest of Durag, the Sun God. The kid is only seventeen and his order has already made him a messenger of the sun. They send Aedyn all over Ralian on different holy missions,” Nimby explains, crunching on a juicy apple. “There are rumors about him being here to investigate the undead of the Caster Swamp. Some unique types thrive there because of the necrocasters who used to live in there. I’m not sure if that is true or not because Aedyn hasn’t left the academy since he arrived four weeks ago. I could talk to him if you want. He usually sits in on some of my classes because the woodshop has a lot of windows to let the sawdust out. I should warn you that he is a rock. I could drop a log on his foot during his meditation and he wouldn’t break concentration. Not that I would do something so malicious to the poor guy.”

  “Looks like people are starting to leave for classes. Maybe I can clean the dorm up after my first class. Thomas will understand since Selenia is my first teacher and losing the run was embarrassing enough. She would torture me for being late to her class too,” Luke says, getting up and handing his tray to a passing assistant cook. “I’ll talk to you at lunch, Nimby. Let’s hope I can get through today without getting beaten.”

  Everyone is standing and pushing to get out to their first class. Instead of forcing his way through the front door like the other students, Luke climbs out one of the windows and calmly jogs to the practice yard that he was told to report to. The yard is hidden in the back corner of the academy where nobody can spy on the private class. Luke begins stretching while he waits for Selenia and the other students to arrive. A few minutes pass before someone violently taps him on the shoulder. Luke rolls his eyes to the sky as he turns around, coming nose to nose with Kellia. The girl is dressed in a tight fitting shirt and leather pants like the other day, but today she is wearing heavy boots. Luke can only imagine the pain he would feel if she stomped on his foot or kicked him.

  “Your ass is mine, half breed,” Kellia growls, flashing a cocky smile.

  5

  Nimby takes his time eating the rest of his breakfast since his classes are every other day and he had managed to talk his way out of lunchtime detention duty. Betty is the only person left in the cafeteria by the time the halfling finishes his meal and gets to his feet. He makes sure to swipe some fresh fruit from a basket that had been left near the entrance to the bustling kitchen. Whistling a cheerful tune, Nimby walks out the door instead of sneaking out of the window. A songbird on the roof of the cafeteria joins the halfling in his song as he strolls across the academy. He passes several classes where students are already covered in sweat or are laying on the grass nursing bruises and cuts. Some days he is surprised the students are able to walk, much less get up every day for combat classes.

  “It looks like it’s going to be a boring day. That lumber shipment better get here by tomorrow or I’ll have to cancel classes. That will leave me with nothing to do,” Nimby complains, juggling some stolen fruit. “My father always said that a bored thief is a troublemaking thief and I don’t want to prove him right. At least I have a new friend who will make things interesting around here. Guess I should enjoy the sun and hang around the fountain for a while.”

  It is a very warm day with dragonflies whizzing around the clear surface of the fountain water. Nimby stands near the fountain trying to imitate a warbling birdsong when a loud scream of pain catches his attention. The noise echoes across the courtyards, reaching the edge of the forest before it fades. He is positive that it came from Selenia’s martial arts class, which is on the other side of the distant Grandguard dormitory. Nimby takes a step in that direction when he trips over an invisible foot and lands in the fountain. Deep and hearty chuckling fills the air as Nimby scrambles to his feet and sputters for air. He can see the small fish in the fountain have already begun swarming the fruit that he dropped. Nimby clambers out of the fountain, shaking the water from his clothes and glaring in the direction of the laughter.

  “That is the twenty-eighth time I have knocked you into that fountain. I’m beating you by three dunks, old friend,” Fritz declares as he appears standing on the edge of the gurgling fountain. The gnome’s voice is very deep as he continues to laugh.

  Nimby joins in the laughter before grabbing Fritz’s legs and flipping him into the fountain. The gnome lands face first in the shallow water, causing a big enough splash that drenches Nimby. The soaked halfling swiftly picks up some fish that are flopping on the ground and tosses them into the water. One of them bounces off Fritz’s head as he crawls to the edge of the fountain and drapes himself over the rim. Nimby notices that the gnome’s glasses have a new bend in their rims thanks to the fall. He is about to say something about it when he remembers his lost fruit and decides that they are even now.

  “Ahead by two now,” Nimby states, emptying the water in his boots onto the grass. “Geez, Fritz. The oil and all those explosions over the years have really messed up your hair. It still looks greasy even after getting dunked in clean water. I’d get out of there before you kill the fish and you have to explain it to Selenia. So, how was your trip to Gaia?”

  Fritz pulls himself out of the fountain and shakes the dirty water from his hair. Nimby is disgusted by some of the globs that stick to the side of the fountain and slowly ooze to the ground. The gnome sees the expression and pulls out a small bottle with an eye dropper. He calmly puts a drop of amber liquid on every glob, which fizzes and bubbles into a fine mist. A stiff breeze disperses the mist as Fritz puts the bottle away.

  “Exciting as usual,” Fritz proudly admits, taking a seat on the edge of the fountain. “I had the chance to visit my third cousin from my father’s side who is working in an alchemy lab near the dockyards. He came so close to making a metallic rope with straw-like flexibility, but it was too thick for any use outside of tying up boats. Using it for binding people and building construction won’t work until he makes it thinner. I tried to help him with the shrinking procedure, but the acid I chose destroyed too much of the material, making it too fragile. Although, we found that the new material had the ability to increase the power of lightning spells, so he can make some money there. I get ten percent of his sales as per the gnomish standard. On the plus side of things, the Gaian army is willing to look at my plan for a rapid-fire, self-reloading catapult. They are also considering my offer to let them look at the prototype for a self-propelled battering ram. They are a little leery about the batterin
g ram idea considering it involves unstable brimstone crystals and dwarven boomstones. I’m sure I can warm them up to the idea. Anyway, there were also plenty of beautiful women who I attempted to indulge in at the local taverns.”

  “You got shot down every night?” Nimby teases the old gnome, playfully sticking his tongue out.

  Fritz lets a small frown cross his face. “Several times, my simple friend. Human and elven women just don’t understand my kind. We are a very complex race with needs beyond that of the tall ones. These are urgent and special needs that bards speak of in their songs. I can see that I am boring you. I know what you are after. There were a few interesting pieces of gossip that I heard while in Gaia. Care to hear some of them? As if I have to ask.”

  “You know me too well,” Nimby says with a wide smile on his face. “I have yet to hear any gossip or stories that I didn’t like. Unless you count the three-day story of my Uncle Dabbin and the goblin drinking contest. I couldn’t believe how long that story was or that he even bothered to tell it in the first place. I will never look at a mug of goblin ale the same way again.” Fritz clears his throat to get Nimby’s attention. “So, feel free to gossip away, my eloquent friend.”

  “The only question is where to begin,” Fritz wonders, stroking his bulb-like nose. “I heard rumors about the dwarves of Yargol Mountain discovering a new seam of gold and a pool of fae water. They are hoping to make a fortune off of these magnificent finds, but the seam and the pool are on the border of the western goblin territories. So, both sides have called on old treaties to help them take control of the find. I heard a lot about Gaia sending some of their griffin riders to help the dwarves protect these resources and there are signs of orc legions heading to the mountains to help the goblins. If the diplomats hit a stalemate, a small war might be on the horizon for that area. The gossip part of this story is that something doesn’t make any sense with the orcs. Several of the legions that the orcs sent to the area have diverted toward the Caster Swamp. Nobody, including the orc officials who live in Gaia, knows why this would happen. As far as the humans and dwarves are concerned, the mountain is more important than figuring out orc battle tactics. Between you and me, the gnomes are already sending trade agreement pacts to the dwarves and the goblins. We are hoping that they share the find and grant us limited access to resources.”

  Nimby lets out a fake yawn and begins playing with a wooden yo-yo. “Politics and racial relations are boring, Fritz. I want to know about the social events like royal introductions and week-long parties. Major events of the area are all well and good, but I’d rather hear about those from the people involved. You understand, right? So did anything really juicy happen in the social world of Gaia?”

  “As usual, my vertical equal, you prove that your patience for world events is non-existent,” Fritz declares, shaking his head in mock disgust. “I am sorry to say that I only came across two social stories that might appeal to you. Unfortunately, I was unable to confirm one of the stories that I heard.”

  “Then tell me the confirmed story first,” the halfling excitedly requests. “I can sleep through the other one.”

  Fritz clears his throat before standing on the fountain edge, holding his shirt lapels as if he is getting ready to give a grand speech. “I love giving history lessons and throwing out ancient knowledge. Don’t pout, Nimby. This information is necessary for my story to make complete sense. Now, in case you have forgotten, the casters known as Cyril and Willow are the protectors of Gaia. Both are caring and just members of the Grand Counselors who have kept the peace for over two-hundred years.” Fritz stops when he notices Nimby gazing into the distance. “That’s enough history before I lose your child-like attention span. Anyway, I was walking through the marketplace when I heard people talking about Cyril’s prized pupil finally being introduced to the public. They have kept this girl in Rainbow Tower for most of her life, which made her an urban legend until recently. I don’t know the girl’s name, but she was given a public introduction as the top apprentice of Gaia. I heard from a few bartenders that she is not someone you should mess with unless you have lived a full life and are ready to die.”

  “Why is that?” Nimby asks, jotting down several notes on a piece of parchment. He rolls it up and tucks it into one of his many inner pockets.

  Fritz clears his throat and continues in a low whisper. “The girl has been trained in the art of magic since she was a toddler. A local yam farmer, who saw her in action, told me that the girl is a natural caster. She has more potential than her teachers and she can cast spells for longer periods of time than other casters. One could say this girl has unlimited aura at her fingertips. Supposedly, she has a habit of using destructive spells without restraint, which is probably why she was previously a myth instead of being completely unknown. Like all apprentices, she probably snuck out of the tower a few times, got into trouble, and used magic to get out of it. People tend to notice when a tavern explodes or a pickpocket is found sticking out of a solid wall.”

  “This whole story came from a simple yam farmer?” Nimby asks with his voice full of doubt. “How would he have seen this girl in action? It would be like me seeing a Lich rise from the grave. The likelihood is slim at best.”

  “I agree with you completely,” Fritz responds with an exaggerated bow and a wide, bronze-toothed smile. “At first, I didn’t believe that an apprentice could wield such magic. Then, I was taken to a smoldering crater that used to be the location of a Mace Dragon lair. I remember there being a large hill with a cave in this location, but it isn’t there anymore. I dug up some public records on the incident, which verified the story. The girl was one of three casters sent to fight the monster and she was the only one to come back alive. She got the assignment because she accepted the summons for her teachers and used magic to make herself look like Willow. This happened when she was sixteen and the crater is still smoking,”

  “Too bad I never got to meet her,” the gnome wistfully states. “We could have discussed the subtleties of using carefully orchestrated explosions to defeat stronger foes. I still have some burn bombs left from my trip to Cerascent last summer. Maybe she could have improved on their already powerful explosion.”

  “Only you would think about asking a destructive caster to help you improve on your explosives,” says Nimby, who is absentmindedly drawing pictures in a patch of dirt. “Do you know anything else about this girl?”

  “I heard that the girl is pretty. Physically, she is three steps below a knockout and would look better if she actually tried. Then, there is her nasty temper,” Fritz answers with a small shiver of fear. “I walked into the Vivid Griffin an hour after she had left and there was a man-sized hole in one of the walls. I was told that she got pinched on the butt and used a spell to increase her strength before throwing the culprit. The girl likes to get into fights, tending to finish anything she gets involved in even if she doesn’t start it. Sounds like my kind of girl. Bet the gnomish charm could soothe her soul and warm her loins.”

  Nimby falls onto his back, laughing hysterically. Fritz casts a quick silence spell around Nimby, so he doesn’t have to listen to the high-pitched noise. A group of students walk by the two instructors, staring at the bizarre scene. They begin whispering to each other while eyeing Fritz who becomes very uncomfortable with the attention. He is thankful when the students leave and Nimby looks to be calming down. The silence spell disappears when another loud scream of pain rips through the air, echoing for a little over a minute. Fritz is on his feet looking around while Nimby slowly stands up.

  “What was that?” Fritz asks in mild surprise.

  “It was probably someone from Selenia’s martial arts class,” Nimby replies, looking toward the Grandguard dorm again. “Somebody must have pissed her off. Either that or Kellia is causing trouble again. Maybe both. So, what’s the other rumor you heard?”

  “You will find this one really funny. Keep in mind that I heard this from a leprous half-orc near one of the le
ss respectable bars of Gaia,” Fritz warns the halfling. He lowers his voice to a gentle whisper that only Nimby can hear. “I was getting supplies for my return trip when I found him asking for coins on the corner. I gave him enough gold to last him the week and an ointment for his ailment, so he shared some information with me. He was in Visindor Forest looking for food where he overheard a clandestine conversation before he was scared off by zombies. Supposedly, Duke Solomon has sent his heir to this academy for combat training. The mere idea sounds ridiculous because Selenia would have been informed in order to take special precautions. The only true part of the half-orc’s story is that a messenger of the Duke was found dead in the river a few hours north of Gaia. The messenger had no message scrolls or anything else to prove that the royal heir was at this academy. It sounds unbelievable if you ask me. It's probably people jumping to conclusions after they found the body in the river. Large amounts of alcohol were probably involved too.”

  Nimby anxiously wrings his fingers as he gives Fritz a wide, unnerving smile. The halfling breaks eye contact in order to nervously stare around the courtyard. He makes sure that they are completely alone before looking at Fritz again.

  “You ok? Did you steal something while I was talking to you?” Fritz asks, looking around frantically. “I find it hard to keep your secret when you take such risks. What are you looking for?”

  “That isn’t just a rumor,” Nimby whispers with a barely-restrained smile. “I met the person who is supposed to be protecting the heir. He’s pretending to be a student and he asked me to help him.”

  “No, Nimby. One of the new students is playing games with you after hearing the same rumor. You would need a highly skilled fighter to do this kind of job and keep it hidden from Selenia. That woman is the best warrior in the region and the Duke would be a fool to go to anyone else for help,” Fritz argues, patting at his pants and shirt as if searching for something. “The only other person in Visindor who would be a sensible choice as a bodyguard is the Paladin that was found dead about seventeen hours south from here. Something crucified the body after it was dead and left it as a warning. Evil things have been moving around Visindor these last few months, so the Duke would never hire an amateur to protect his heir. That is if there really is royalty in this academy. My overall point is that if the heir was here, Selenia would know and make the proper precautions.” He pulls out a clay pipe and a small stone from his pocket. With a few muttered words, the stone emits a burst of flame that he uses it to light his pipe.

 

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