We set out just after dawn. There was no fanfare. I immediately started working on Gorn to get him to act as an interpreter for Ghenxian, the orc arcanist. The dwarf seemed willing; but it took some needling to get Ghen to agree. The lesson was pretty barebones. It was mostly an introduction to the different philosophies around learning magic. Apparently Ghen was a mage. Which was different to a wizard. Which was different to a sorcerer. Et al.

Traditionally wizards were supposed to learn all the ‘arcana’ associated with a tier of magic before being allowed to progress to the next tier. This made progression glacially slow and caused wizards to be jacks of trades and masters of none. Mages focused on perfecting a certain subset of the arcana. Which made them much powerful with a small selection of spells and barely above novice stage with arcane magic in general.

I was about to start asking him to explain what he meant by ‘arcana’ when I heard noise in the distance in front of us. Fearing the worst I held my improvised quarterstaff in front of me. I’m sure I looked ridiculous. There’s likely a bunch of martial arts which teach how to hold a staff properly. I knew none of them.

Looking around me I saw no one else had drawn their weapons. That’s when the noise resolved itself into what sounded like giggling. Peering through the trees I could see four figures waiting for us to approach. I felt my face flush. I’m sure they weren’t giggling at me; but that’s not what my traitorous subconscious believed.

Meacham yelled, “What the fuck are you doing here? And who is that?” He was pointing to a woman with long blond hair who was on the cusp of being middle aged.

“That’s Rachel,” Sara said with a smirk, “she’s here to help you boys negotiate a fair deal.”

“Says who? You four are heading straight back to camp. This is not the time for playing games.”

“No one is playing corporal,” said Rachel, “I think you’ll find I’m well qualified for this role. I speak three languages fluently and can converse in two more and I’ve made many deals across various language barriers over the years. Neither of you can say the same.”

“Who sent you?” Meacham asked.

“I’m married to Tony Ferucci if that’s what you’re asking. But he didn’t send me. I volunteered.”

“And you couldn’t sign up when the major asked for volunteers?”

“No one asked my husband or I to come to the meeting despite the fact my husband will likely win the vote tomorrow. This mission is too important to risk a petty bureaucrat sidelining me out of spite.”

“Ma’am, listen to me. You are going to take these kids and go back to camp where it is safe. We don’t need your help.”

“You are an army corporal and a college student. And I have probably spent more years on this ear… alive than you two combined. Please stop patronising me. It didn’t work during the dot com boom and it won’t work now.”

“And those kids?” I found myself asking.

“Those kids have seen worse than ninety percent of the people on that plane. Including you.”

She immediately turned around and started hiking towards the mouth of the valley. We had no choice but to follow.

“I thought Melissa was crazy when she asked us to bring her. But that was fucking badass,” Sian admitted.

The next two hours were spent in cold silence. Eventually I sidled up to Xola to ask her about the squiggling creature she was carrying.

“Oh. That’s the wolf pup I rescued from the evil vet. She was going to put her down. I don’t know how I’m going to feed her out here. But she has a better chance than in camp.”

To the other side of me Gorn said, “I’ve always thought Eris was missing a good animal companion. A ranger isn’t complete without one. What’s her name?”

“I haven’t decided yet. It’s a big decision and I don’t want to screw it up.”

The next two hours were spent with me wondering why I had decided to come. I tried to get Ghen to continue the lesson; but he wasn’t into it. Eris and the rogue, Moira, were off scouting and Sian and Gorn were alternating singing various marching songs. My legs were killing me and I doubted we’d be having a break soon.

The first fight of the day was a party of five trolls Eris had spotted. Gorn told up to stay back while the adventurers dealt with them. I couldn’t hold back my curiosity so I crept forward to watch. I missed the first spell Ghen cast. But I was waiting for the second. He made a throwing motion with his hand while chanting ignititio etude hermis vulta. The words themselves seemed more vibrant than the rest of the sounds of the forest. And it was trivial to remember the exact intonation Ghen used when casting the spell. Excitedly I did a throwing motion at one of the trolls and chanted the spell. I felt a searing pain as I saw sparks come out of my hand. No bolt of fire. Obviously I had fucked something up. But still; despite the agony I was feeling I had done magic. Real fucking magic. I was a fucking wizard. Or at least I would be one after a few years of study. Looking up I saw two of the trolls were down. But Gorn was being pummelled by two others and Moira was barely managing the third. I tried to cast the spell again at the figure fighting Moira. There was no pain that time, and the sparks flew about a foot away from my hand. But that was it.

The troll was eventually taken down by two flaming arrows from Eris while fire bolts from Ghen took out the ones on Gorn. My spells did nothing. When the battle was over I went to Gorn to ask for a heal. He laughed hard when he saw my excitement at casting a real spell. He then punched me in the stomach and warned me not to try magic without being taught. He kicked me when I didn’t respond quick enough. After getting my breath back and rubbing my shin I saw him argue with Ghen over something. They pointed at me once or twice.

During this I noticed Moira cutting open some of the troll corpses. She was neatly butchering their torsos to harvest something specific from each of them. Blood and guts have rarely bothered me. But the smell was like an air freshener made out of sewerage. I spent a few minutes dry heaving while the two Gs finished their argument. “Are you Ok lad?” Gorn asked.

“Fine,” I said, “what the fuck is she doing?”

“Harvesting troll liver. From what I understand both liver and trolls are associated with regeneration. Combine the two and they’re worth quite bit as an ingredient in healing potions.”

“Thank God we have a cleric,” I gasped.

“By Ra’uns radiant Light you lot better be more careful about spreading your heresies in more polite society. You’ll end up burned on the wheel at the rate.”

“Stake.”

“What stake?”

“It’s burned at the stake. Not burned at the wheel.”

“I’m fairly sure Heliarchical executions involve being broken to a wheel before burning. But I could be mistaken. Burning at the stake is more common in the Broken Empire.” The dwarf stroked his beard as he spoke.

“Ah. Is a wheel the device where your limbs are broken and threaded through the spokes?” I was glad I had already thrown up breakfast five minutes previously.

“Yes. Do they have them where you come from? Though I imagine they’d be less popular without healing magic keeping the poor bastard awake through the entire process.” I wasn’t sure if the dwarf was trying to upset me or he honestly thought this was an acceptable topic for discussion.

“So Raun is the sun deity these priests worship?” I asked.

“These misconceptions are going to get you killed. They worship the entire pantheon. But they serve Ra’un specifically.” There was the slightest of pauses between the ‘Ra’ and the ‘un’; which the dwarf emphasised as he spoke. “So I assume you still want to learn magic? Ghen has agreed to teach you if you promise to not cast spells until you know what in Death’s crotch you’re doing.”

The lesson continued into the afternoon. I could reliably get a bolt of fire to shoot from my hand without burning myself; but the range was only a couple of meters. It was useless in combat so I stayed well back from the fight with the frostwolf pack that evening.

I did have a Cheshire Cat grin on my face when I lit the camp fire using my new flame spell.