Ch: 7 Bathtime Yacht Club

Firstday rang in with a shimmering still sunrise, promising a hot day. He dressed in his second hand market day finery, just a bit upmarket and just worn in enough to send his message.

 

Draped in the light brown over-robe of a first year novice, he strolled out into the hall, hat askew at a saucy angle. Ivy was there and for a surprise, Liam. “Otho called me in, perhaps I will learn something.”

 

“Keep me posted… hey,” There were faint bags under Liam's eyes, and he had been only ‘Horrible’ to Gary during their morning routine, several notches down from ‘Walking Nightmare’, his usual mode. 

 

“You ok buddy, you seem…” Liam flashed him a warning glare and significant glance at Ivy. “Like you didn’t sleep well.”

“I slept just fine Gary, I was out late dancing.”

“We will have to put you down this afternoon bro, a bath and a nap will fix you up!”

 

Ivy clapped Gary on the back firmly. “Shai sent this one home early, Liam. Otho saw you creep in before first bell.”

“Wait, Otho was here?” The others looked at Gary and then down at the massive coppery red dog that followed Ivy like a red gold shadow.

 

“You named the dog Otho?” He asked, puzzled.

 

“It was supposed to piss him off, but the old goat loves him. Takes him for walks, pretends anyone who tries to talk to him is talking to the mutt.” She shook her head while scritching the dog behind the ears. “Says it's the only way to take a walk in peace.”

 

“And the dog told you Liam came creeping back?” Gary asked.

 

“He's my familiar Gary, I see, hear and unfortunately taste everything he does.” She smiled, “He’s really a busybody.”

 

“So how does a familiar work?” Gary asked as they walked in a group to the college. 

“I’m Contracted to the God of Beasts. Instead of magic I get Otho here, He's my Boy!” She chimed excitedly on the last, making the dog wiggle.

“I thought Contract talk was taboo?” 

She scoffed at him while Liam added, “We’re Orphans Gary, you are one of us now.” He clapped Gary on the other shoulder. “I’m Contracted to War, Ivy has Joy and the beast spirit.”

 

“The God of Beasts.” She growled very slowly, her cute, blonde pixie bob and upturned nose looking decidedly feral.

 

“Sorry, The God of Beasts” Liam corrected himself. “War is kind of a dick about the god of Beasts. I have to pay attention or his nonsense can influence me.” He explained as they walked.

 

“Lima Bean here says you have a weapon Contract, a spear?” Liam bristled at the obvious childish jibe, but he bristled all the time anyway. 

Gary made Wanderer’s Legacy appear as a cane and handed it over to her. “Letting me get my hands on your spear just like that? Shai is gonna murder you twice!” She continued laughing at her off color innuendo all the way up to the college gate. The boys remained unmoved by her wit.

 

“The whole spear analogy is just a bit on the nose.” Liam criticized.

 

Gary stroked his chin thoughtfully. “It has a certain juvenile indirectness I suppose, still, low hanging fruit.” 

 

“Precisely, had she say, gone for your low hanging fruit… that is the kind of elevated discourse the modern jokester should be focusing on.” Liam said, rising to the topic.

 

“I agree, in this day and age there is no excuse for that kind of sloppy display.” Gary opined.

 

“Sloppy display you say? I can work with that. Otho, if you please?” Ivy barked.

 

The boys spent the rest of the walk being nipped, harassed and generally tripped up by an enthusiastic mountain of red gold fur. They separated at the administration building, Liam going inside, Ivy heading to the third year building. Gary was directed to an outbuilding near the wall under a huge cedar tree.

 

He spent the entire day being tested on basic knowledge starting with establishing that he could in fact, read. Literate commoners were indeed a rarity.

The physical sciences part of the tests was OK he guessed, spatial awareness and geometry were simplicity defined. In the magical section of the knowledge assessment he performed disappointingly.

Some of the questions felt almost similar to music theory, in the way that a drawing of a tree on paper was similar to a living tree. All in all it was exhausting.

At fourth bell the college day ended and the friends re-convened at the gate. Otho resumed his interrupted harassment duties seamlessly.

Likewise, as they struggled to keep up with the doggy interference, Ivy remarked; “I’ve known about you and Aisha since before you knew about you and Aisha.”

“Frankly, everyone did, even this chattering monkey.” She thumbed at Gary’s stumbling form, half obscured by the vast dog. 

“You think I have a crush on you and that's cute, but I have my eye on Shai’s brother, cousin? Whatever. I need your giant ape over there to get in on that boy.”

 

“Gary? How, why?” Liam puzzled.

 

“The great ape was the one who got you and Aisha to stop pining and start boning.” Gary called, struggling to his feet, half riding half wrestling the dog.

 

“I said GIANT ape, great is highly doubtful.” Ivy retorted. “And Shai is the key, not your pet monkey.”

“HEY!”

“Shut up you gawping boob, grownups are talking…”

 

Halfway through Ivy’s Machiavellian plot, involving a runaway river barge and a number of costume changes, Gary interrupted. “Tallum, right?”

 

She paused, studying him. “Yes, her youngest cousin, brother? Whatever.”

 

Gary smiled. “You probably will know everything soon, since I talk in my sleep and Otho is a serial snuggler. Come over this afternoon and join the bathing club. We will get you up to speed and then make it happen, no plots, no schemes, just boy meets girl.”

 

“Have you met Tallum?” She asked. 

 

Gary nodded, “Just once, but I have his measure.”

 

“Do you? He's a beautiful boy, too smart to stay focused on this world, he’s lost in his sketchbooks and dreams.” She complained. “Whenever I can pull him into the real world he is amazing. But he’s too shy.”

 

Gary leapt the mutt, gathered Ivy close and kissed the top of her head, saying. “First I make the boy dance in my palm. Once he is my finger puppet I will hand him over to you, gift wrapped. Leave it to big brother Gary and the Lima Bean.” 

“HEY!” Liam shouted in protest.

“I told you I have his measure. There is a bonfire in that boy's soul, it just needs a single spark. You sweet Ivy, get to fan the flames, if you can take the heat.” He smiled with glee. “I get to strike some sparks, I was going to do it anyway. You may as well get some benefit too...”

 

Gary broke off at the market gate, heading to collect Shai and her brother.. Cousin? Whatever.

 

Gary strolled up to the forge, playing ‘Puttin On The Ritz’ just for fun, dragging Shai out with his power while he was still half a block away. His gift seemed to reach as far as his music did.

 

As the beautiful girl spun and leapt to him, Gary’s world narrowed down to just her, she was extraordinary. The music ended when she slipped into his arms. “Good afternoon miss Shai!” 

“Good day to yerself, too foolish boy!”

 

Arm in arm they approached the forge and Gary asked; “Is Master Harlan still honor bound to beat my ass?” 

She kissed his cheek.”No, ye brought me home like a proper boy should last night so he's nae tae butcher ye.” 

Gary gave her arm a squeeze, “That accent is killing me.” He whispered.

 

She stiffened. “If Mine- my accent offends ye-you I can suppress it, Gary Ward.” She faltered coldly. “Be- is there anything else ye-ou would like to change about me?”

He pulled her closer and whispered “I mean it turns me on woman! Tone down the sexy before I get brain damage.”

 

He whistled a few bars of Mad World in a joke meant for only himself. “Another strange song, foolish boy? Ye’ll be singing that one fer me too, sounded sad it did.”

 

“I need Tallum for a minute, did you tell him about my shop?”

“Nae Gary, tis a… private memory.” She said softly.

 

He smiled. “I need to bring Tallum into the bathing club, he has some things I need, and He needs some things from me.”

“And ye need tae bathe with me brother fer them? Is yer mind whole boy?” Her wink was saucy and filled with laughter.

 

“You will see my dear! You will see wonders!” He raised his fist as though to pluck the still high sun from the sky. Thundering; “We Shall Bring Forth Marvels! All will fear the Bathtime Yacht Club!”

 

“Ooh Tawney did tell me of this! When ye starts makin pronouncements and declaiming vengeance or what not. Ye be hatching some scheme, an twil blow up in yer face. Providing much fun for me! Careful of the fingers boy, those be precious tae me.”

 

She sped off, presumably to pry Tallum free from his workbench.

 

He was a handsome kid, just about Gary’s age, maybe younger. Bright ginger and freckled but, he looked strong and fit. In the confines of the forge he moved with a grace few very large men managed, a very large man. He was well over Gary by a head and his hands looked like shovels.

 

When he spoke his voice was deep, but soft and dreamy, “I had an idea for a water gear driven triphammer for the forge, just a little one.”

 

Shai clamped her hand on his arm. “Move ya lummox, Ye will no forgive me an I dinnae make ye go!” He had no trace of Shai's, or her uncle’s accent. Just a quiet voice that carried everywhere. Huge goddamn lungs, the kid was a monster.

 

Gary had felt it when he met the giant boy the first time. When they shook hands, no message popped up from Interface, just that old familiar feeling. Shai had it too, perhaps that was part of why her touch would… Right!

 

He snapped his attention back to the young man. Like those rare and unique instruments, Tallum was a genius restrained only by doubt and fear. If he had the courage and tools, he could set the world on fire.

 

Or less poetically, he was a nerd that just needed to find his fandom. Briefly, like an arsonist preparing to ignite his creation, Gary wondered what form it would take. He knew what fuel and how the accelerant worked. Until you strike that spark though...

 

Leading the giant downstairs, Gary and Shai sat back to watch him play with the toys, while the rest of the bathing society were upstairs.

A chalkboard in the workshop had a rough sketch and dimensions drawn in a few colors of chalk, diagramming the complex parts of a small machine.

Gary leaned close and whispered. “How do you think this is gonna happen?” 

Shai replied, “He be so shy and retiring he may nae do anythin…” She was cut off by the sound of a tool spinning up. The whir of the drill press quickly led to the soft chatter of drill biting metal.

In less time than Gary would have thought possible Tallum handed him the still warm prototype. A perfect tuning machine, rendered in bronze.

 

Gary had crafted some wooden knobs to complete them, but Tallum went the extra mile and carved a delicate fleur de lis in brass.

 

It was so much better than anything he had expected from the first effort, he had trouble remembering the second part of the plan. Shai helpfully kicked him in the ankle to keep things going.

 

“Tallum, my grandfather always said, it's important to digest new information before getting to work, let's go upstairs and meet the rest of the gang”

 

He balked, the giant becoming hesitant. Looking to Shai, she smiled at him. “Ye kin trust this foolish boy. An I trust him as well.”

 

Gary laughed. “Don’t trust me, trust yourself. Every afternoon after this, I will disassemble and reassemble one machine, I will instruct you in its safe use and maintenance. As was done for me.” 

Tallum nodded solemnly. “Thus, by the ancient rites of my homeland you, Tallum Harlan's son, are a trainee apprentice luthier. Under my guidance of course.” Tallum looked suspiciously at him and he coughed. 

“And in exchange for this largess I, Gary Ward shall become assistant apprentice tinker under you.” Gary held out a hand hopefully.

 

“We are almost brothers now, I guess. Cause if you break Shai’s heart I will tear you to pieces. We hug.” The ginger beast said, before pressing Gary into juice. The look on the giant's face as he gazed over the tools he would soon be disassembling was almost lustful.

 

In the bathing room Gary was surprised anew at how thoroughly and completely his nudity taboo had shattered. 

The others, for their parts, had been swimming and bathing in the river their entire lives. While indoor plumbing existed in communal living facilities like the orphanage, the tradition of bathing in the river was alive and well.

 

Gary’s hope for a shocked or panic stricken moment was not just dashed, but evaporated without even leaving a bad smell. Nothing at all, Tallum walked in, waved to the gang and got into the pool, floating there like a ginger dreadnought.

 

“Ginger Dreadnought.” Gary said to the group, causing some raised eyebrows. “Ohh, potential band name.” He said, causing more raised eyebrows.

 

While Gary joined the human punchbowl, Ivy slid up to Tallum. So slowly he never understood what was happening until it was too late, Ivy slithered into his arms, like an eel through seaweed.

 

Giving her a thumbs up he got the ball rolling.

 

“For the new members. Welcome to the Bathtime Yacht Club, Llc, some restrictions apply, consult your physician, If Bathtime exceeds four hours bring more bubbles.”

 

Liam, Tawney, Aisha, Shai, Tallum, Ivy and Otho the dog all stopped and stared.

 

Unsurprisingly, Tawny led the pack. “The what now? Gary, we will not be putting up with your nonsense.”

Liam agreed, nodding firmly. “No one discussed a name.”

 

Gary sighed, pointing to a sign over the door in softly glowing lanterns. The origami letters in green paper spelled out;

 

Bathtime Yacht Club Llc.

 

Beneath that was a series of origami lanterns depicting a stylized bathtub, clock chime, a boat and a truncheon.

 

Gary pointed a thumb behind him. “Signs made, can't change it.”

 

“Again, thank you to our new members, big ups to Tallum and Ivy!” A soft growl sounded from somewhere in the mist. “And Otho the dog!”

 

Gary wiped his brow. “So, this is my magic bathhouse, essentially nothing in here is real except what you brought in. That means that most stuff will vanish if you leave with it.”

 

That settled the mood. “Seriously, don't eat the sandwich, it's for Otho- the human Otho!” The dog sounded upset, grumbling somewhere in the mist.

 

“Anyway, I'm from far away, like really far away, I will bring you up to speed individually, because you stopped paying attention when I started talking about the sandwich. Fair I guess but now you have to figure it out from context.”

 

The two tuned back in from each other for the last sentence and were ignored when they raised their hands. “Nope, gotta wait. So Liam, updates?”

 

“Not much, they pumped me like a dry well for three hours. Not trying to pry out secrets, mind you, but for every detail about where you come from.”

 

“They could just ask me… anyway, Tawny? Any info to share?”

 

“Much like Liam they wanted to know what you told me about where you come from.” She frowned. “There is some deeper game here”

 

“Yeah and we can’t see the board, but everyone gets a look at my balls.” The entire group splashed Gary at once, nearly washing him from the pool.

 

Regaining his composure Gary continued. “For my part, assessment exams. News flash, nothing I know means shit here.”

 

Shai poked him tenderly. “Almost nothin ye know means shite, foolish boy.”

 

Aisha coughed softly and spoke. “I have something, the three old schemers are requesting books and documents related to weapon Contracts, etheric magic and something called the etheric veil. Not much, but it shows that we are on the right path.”

 

Gary took pity on the new members. “There are a lot of reasons to join the Bathtime Yacht Club, some join for friendship, or mystery, or for the sweet bathtime perks, some join just because they like me.” He winked at Shai. “No membership dues, save that you keep Bathtime secrets to the Yacht Club.”

 

Gary looked around. “Any volunteers to bring the new kids up to speed?”

Tawny smiled, “I will, I need a long soak anyway.” She looked tired and a little sad.

 

Gary bowed, sweeping an imaginary hat and cape dramatically “Thank you fair Tawny, I must take Shai dancing on the square.” 

The small golden girl hugged his pale muse tenderly, before Shai grabbed his hand and began pulling him to the edge of the bath.

In the fountain square, a drummer and the guitarist were making a pleasant country dance. It was the kind of loping simple beat that made synchronized dance possible without extensive training.

 

They joined the whirl and almost immediately it was Shai’s dance, her influence spread like ripples in a pool. Any step she made was soon duplicated by the women down the line, men soon followed.

 

In wonder, Gary held back, contemplating if this was what his power looked like from the outside. Slowly at first and then more quickly, the dancers and then the musicians fell under her power. 

Her simple brown skirts flared and swirled, showing glimpses of those legs, flashing barefoot through the crowd. Nothing in her dress or appearance picked her out as more than a pretty girl dancing, but every movement was a joyous prayer in a language all her own.

 

The dance ended at seventh bell, the musicians quietly and reverently packing their instruments. Gary wanted to go meet them but they vanished too quickly. 

Gary and Shai also vanished into the crowd, slipping back to the house and locking the doors, once satisfied that they were alone.

 

Together in the early darkness they skipped and danced Shai home. Gary, wobbly legged, but still too wired to sleep, returned to the shop to do a little work before bed.

 

He was still stunned by how much work he could get done when he let his gift loose. He probably could have glued it up tonight, but left the back and soundboard to cure a little more.

 

That was how the days went; morning workouts, remedial classes, the bathing society, dancing, making love, working and bed.

The week after the launch of the Bathtime Yacht Club, Liam decided Gary was sufficiently skilled to join martial arts lessons with the rest of the orphans. Junior section, twelve and under. Becky was mean.

 

The kids were really good, not in the “aww, how cute” way. Dannyl had a chain whip, spined with points like a chainsaw, working out solo in a corner of the courtyard. He flailed a practice dummy made from a log into splinters with terrifying speed. 

That small man, armed with what amounted to a motorcycle chain studded with vicious spikes, was terrifying.

 

Becky used a rapier with brutal skill to perforate a dummy of her own, stitching it into loose straw. Another boy in the corner was using a weighted practice sword on a post driven into the training grounds. 

His steady chopping of blunt wood against the post was metronomic and precise, striking one hundred times and then switching to another strike for the next hundred.

 

Liam was mostly a spear user, but deft with a sword as well. As he sparred with Gary he asked; “Your spear, it becomes a lot of weapons, does it do a sword?” 

 

“No.” Gary lied. “It won’t do a sword.” He took the pause to ask a question that had been puzzling at him. “Liam, the kids are all so serious about martial arts, is there a competition? Like with a dojo across the valley? An All Valley martial arts tournament?”

 

Liam stared, a little worried look in his eye. “We are going to War, Gary.”

 

Now it was Gary’s turn. “Who are we at war with?” Waving his hands around at the kids he asked. “Who the hell sends little orphan kids to war?”

 

“No Gary, not war, War, God of conflict, bringer of strife, the bloodwashed one. Almost all orphans get pledged to War, and once you swear a Contract to War he won't let go.”

 

Gary’s blank look said it all. “A person’s first divine Contract is the primary Contract, even more so, if you Contract early like Ivy and me. It sets the tone.” Gary nodded. “War is the god of conflict. He does not play well with others. If War is your first, War will probably be all you can get.”

 

Liam was clearly struggling to hide a deep hurt inside while he spoke. His hands trembled and he cast his eyes down to hide the frustrated and angry tears. Gary folded his new brother into a silent hug while Dannyl made rude faces over Liam’s shoulder at Gary.

Liam spoke up in the next meeting of the Yacht Club. “I’m not sleeping much.” Aisha and Shai both nodded, having noticed themselves.

 

Tawny thought for a moment and nodded, “Yes, I believe it is an effect of Gary’s pool.” She paused. “I was not explicitly commanded to keep it secret, but…”

 

“The words go in the outside voice.” Gary stage whispered to her.

 

Tawny splashed him with a disapproving glare. “Gary is attached to a font of pure etheric magic, volatile and chaotic, this eldritch vortex is bound like a Contract, but to his soul, through his gifts. This magic contaminates them, creating unpredictable effects. Most notably this pool.”

 

They all looked down into the green tinted water around them.

 

“This pool is only Mostly water…” She paused while the boys chuckled stupidly. 

“It is actually…” She paused while the girls cried “ewww, Gross” 

“actually etheric magic, manifesting as water because Gary wills it, as such it has a potent tonic effect on people and animals immersed in it. Objects will rapidly degrade due to its chaotic magic.”

 

“So the way a Contract makes an attribute grow, this thing is making my gifts grow.” He surmised.

 

“Precisely,” Tawny said smugly. “That is why your gifts are ridiculous.”

“His gifts mayhap be,” Shai purred. “But the rest o him be entirely diculous!”

 

“Keepyourhandsoffmysisteryoucad.” Tallum intoned, freeing himself from the traditional obligation in a well practiced ritual. “I’m going down into the shop, I want a closer look at the gearing in that drill press.”

 

Gary waved, “Have fun, now I know how Mr Halls felt.”

 

Alone at last Gary and Shai splashed some Water out of the pool before retiring to the garden to smoke in blissful repose. They took a walk (dance) around the neighborhood (most of the lower half of town) to clear their heads and went into the workshop.

 

The changes were startling, Tallum had convinced Gary to buy a small used foundry of the sort used by traveling prospectors. It was installed near the compact forge, puffing hot fumes into the exhaust.

 

Tallum melted down scrap he had gathered from around town to form brass, bronze, copper, and even a precious few silver ingots.

 

In the racks, with Tallum’s help Gary had acquired enough rough milled lumber, cloth and hides to start a furniture store.

 

On the quiet side of the shop, Gary’s instruments in progress hung. He had taken a few simple orders, mostly some drums and flutes for the local kids. A guitar repair for a local sofa musician really settled him in and made the place feel welcoming. The violin still hung silent.

 

Violin, instrument, Ironwood, string class, unranked, can be enchanted up to unknown Rank plus by a qualified sorcerer. Quality, rare

He had traded out all of his old style peg tuners wherever he could for Tallum’s new bronze geared tuning machines and life was good, but on this one that would never do, she had to be traditional all the way.

He tuned her up and tried a little gentle fiddling. It was good, too good. Really, It was way too good to be just his own novice violin skills. 

He closed his eyes for a moment and saw his skill tree, pulsing gently with subtle life. His musicianship skill was being fed by a lot of threads, it was so central to his life that was no surprise. 

Poking in a little deeper he found a side note tucked into the footnotes of a page related to his aura.

Artisan/Entrainment/FamiliarStranger/HomeIsWhereTheHeartIs/Null/Null/Null, Objects created with or by and effects of or from listed gifts will benefit from a bonus to effect/ability/use stacking while in active aura effect.

That was just broken. That was why he could use Entrainment on himself to put his skills into the zone at will. That and he had made a goddamn fine violin. 

He was considering his guitar and mandolin for an upgrade already. Otho would love to get his hands on the mandolin. Dumb old goat.

Taking the violin he decided to get some air. “Shai, Tallum?” He waved the violin and bow in their general area. “I’m for the dance.” He said using her grammar and his accent. 

“Is it finished?” Shai asked, never having heard anything like it before.

 

“She is, sexy lady, and I'm not really a violinist. But the song I'm going to play is not a violin song.” He smiled. “I'm going to poke an over proud woman into letting me fix a terrible wound.” He kissed Shai, “Don't hit her if she gets butthurt. I need to get my hands on her instrument again...”

 

Outside the temple of Joy he brought the violin up and began, soft and sweet but carrying all through the square.

 

Its nine oclock on a saturday…

He gave ‘Piano Man’ his best effort, ringing off the stones, plaintive and hopeful. 

It tasted like dreams do, when they turn to tears. A little salty, but still your own. 

When he opened his own eyes, and blinked the mist away, she was there holding her case, while Shai swayed and cried just a little.

 

She had hands like Shai, tough and calloused but quick and dexterous, though tiny in comparison. She took his violin and bow, handed him the case, turned and left without a word.

 

As he and Shai walked back he whistled again, ‘Mad World’.

 

“That sad song again, ye will sing it tae me when its time.” She held him closer. “Ye seem tae know all the sad songs foolish boy.”

 

“As you wish, Dread Pirate Shai.” He agreed. Her short shriek of mock outrage sent them chasing each other through the streets like idiots as a violin sang sweet hymns to Joy behind them.

 

Gary took one of the weekend days each week for working in the different crafts around town, completing all his gathering skills in short order, at least to novice level.  

 

Most of the craft halls worked like the woodcutter’s guild. Informal membership, careful use of their people and their skills, it was a good system. 

It was established practice at the orphanage to rotate the older kids through most of the basic crafts.

 

Then he started working slowly through the refining crafts, like smelting, sawmilling and weaving; they were integral to building the foundation he wanted.

 

A good slice of the morning was taken up with the business of living in this world, workouts and training to keep himself from spiraling into a coma, lessons at the college, and study.

 

Their fellow students avoided Ivy and Gary like a bad smell, interacting only to indulge in the kind of shittyness rich kids think is important in any world.

 

Otho the dog was more than enough to keep Ivy comfortably secure in the company of their “betters” Otho had an egalitarian sensibility when it came to mauling aggressors.

 

Gary relied on the age old tactic of not caring about them at all. It was only medium effective.

 

“I said give me that instrument, you dirt scratching waif.” He sounded bored, as though he were checking an item off a very familiar list. Somewhere there must be a schedule that read; ‘An hour before lunchtime, be a random dickhead.’  Gary was bored too and ignored him and his cronies entirely.

 

Braden Dunham was a minor baron’s second son, and expected to become a member of clergy. He was not pleased by his vocation and was doing his best to get kicked out. His older brother was a justiciar Knight, and he felt that entitled him to a little extra liberty in addition to not caring if he were expelled.

 

Gary continued playing quietly in the quad, wondering why it was a square everywhere else… nerds.

 

In his entire time in town, no one but his friends had even tried to put hands on him. Fighting even in the roughest part of town, would stand out like an outhouse in a graveyard. So it was a shock to everyone when Braden took a vicious kick at Gary’s mandolin.

 

With a horrid crunch and the rending sound of splintering wood his mandolin split and folded into a sad crumpled mess. Gary, with a boot in his stomach, was doing only marginally better.

 

Braden was big, muscled like a racehorse and about as clever. His training for knighthood had paid off in a lot of physical ways, but he was really soft between the ears.

 

He stood crowing in front of his loose assortment of dilettantes, minor nobles and rich layabouts, who were not having nearly as much fun as Braden had promised. A couple looked ready to run, while a girl in the back threw up a little.

 

Gary was not in the habit of fighting, but in frozen rage he shook free of the shattered instrument and leapt on the laughing man from behind. 

 

Gary was big, but Braden was huge. Gary was slowly learning to fight, Braden had been trained from birth to battle. It was not going well.

 

The huge man shook him off and punched him in the ribs while still laughing. Gary rolled with it, coming around to hammer a blow into the bigger man’s kidney, only to punch a well placed elbow instead.

 

Dancing away, shaking his bruised knuckles, Gary tried to trade blows. It was a buyers market and Braden was motivated to sell now. 

Gary struggled to block and dodge the barrage of hands and feet flying his way. Skipping around the courtyard, he was thankful that Shai had been dancing him into the dirt most nights.

 

As his addled brain considered that, he started to pick up on Braden’s rhythm. Dance, that was something he could work with. Gary dialed Entrainment up to eleven and began to dance to Braden's tune, slowly pulling the man into his own dance. 

 

Braden was skilled. But it was the skill of repetitive training, not the passion of an artist. He punched and kicked in patterns, steady as a clock. Once Gary had his hooks in, it was easy to pull the idiot into a pace and timing of Gary's design.

 

They were both bloodied and ragged at the end, but Braden had lost a number of teeth, had both eyes swollen closed, his nose looked like an exotic mushroom, one ear was completely torn off, leaving a ragged lump, one of his arms was broken almost beyond mending and something was leaking blood into his abdomen dangerously.

 

When the provosts pulled Gary off of the wreckage of Braden, only the presence of a priest of Healer prevented a crippling outcome.

 

With nobility involved, a justiciar was sent from the temple of Order. Braden’s own brother arrived to investigate… no one was pleased with the outcome. Witness testimony was only marginally helpful;

 

“...I thought Braden killed him with that kick, it was horrible, but that monster just flew at him like an animal…”

 

“...That peasant never stopped singing that awful song, about how his father named him Sue, disgraceful. Braden is a boor, but it was only a commoner's toy.”

 

“...no one like that should be allowed on campus and a common vagabond orphan…”

In the bath, a still battered and slightly bleeding Gary related the story. “So they determined he was the instigator, but my response was ‘excessive’ so he got off with just the beating I gave him and all I got was my beating and his ear.”

 

Tawny was already looking pale, or as pale as she could, but when Gary displayed his prize it was too much.

 

Shadow boxed behind glass and mounted to the wall, illuminated by a lantern of its own, was a small gray lump of meat. The brass plaque read “Listen To The Music Braden”.

 

“Braden got his wish, they kicked him out of college and he's off to the temple of War in… I don't care. He’ll find a nice place in my flower bed eventually.”

 

Liam tisked. “Gary, you can’t murder and garden your way through life’s troubles.”

 

“I liked that mandolin. He’s really lucky I left my spear at home. I still have murder on my mind.” Gary grumbled. 

He paused to think, in all his troubled life, Gary had done his best to avoid violence. In all the times he had been beaten, attacked or robbed, he had never felt the plain desire to kill someone. 

Even when his third foster father burned him with cigars for touching the rusty tools in his shed.

 

He felt it now, straight edged and sharp as broken glass, he had felt it that night with the perv Irdall too. Pure direct murder was on his mind and in his heart. He could only wonder if that cold, calculating almost passionless desire was from his contract.

 

Shai slid into his lap and bit his lower lip for him. “We kin make a new one taegether foolish boy, an mayhap ye kin aide me in a thing o me own.” She said, drawing him from the bath.

 

Gary followed the twin moons of her smooth buttocks into the changing room and downstairs, still hypnotized by those pale globes, even after her workaday trousers covered them. The girl was a dream, even in sawdust covered work clothes.

 

While Gary and Shai worked and danced in the shop together often, tonight he felt an urgency in her work, an extraordinary focus. Peeking at her project he asked; “Is that a fancy shovel?”

 

“Pauldron foolish boy, tis an armor I be makin fer Liam. Fer his birthday.” She sighed deeply. “Tis his nineteenth, In a year and a month he goes tae War, an his heart will die a slow death.”

 

Her face cast in sorrow stabbed Gary almost as much as the thought of Liam, so unhappy in his life’s path. “Is there anything that can be done?”

 

“Nae, tis a matter of gods and priests, we get no say. An orphan wha comes tae maturity at twenty must be bound in Contracts and serve as an Adventurer fer five years tae pay back the debt of care.”

 

Dumbstruck, Gary stumbled. “Wait what? Five what now?”

 

“Tis the law, as most orphanages save this one be held by War, tis tradition almost as strong as law that orphans go to War” She smiled sadly.

 

“Poor old Otho has held out nigh three hundred years, keeping the last orphanage of Joy. An he passes on, tis War fer all orphans no matter.”

“I, being taken in by blood kin, am free tae choose if an when I take a Contract, and mine is the negotiating of it.”

 

She swatted Gary on the rump firmly “Otho hae plans and schemes fer ye my foolish boy an your time comes, but poor Liam be bound fer War. Lest summat what never did happen should come to be.”

 

“You lost me Shai, what does that last part mean?” Gary asked, deeply confused.

 

“Tis well known that War do be in desperate impossible love wi Dana the Healer, an Healer do find him intolerable, yes?”

 

“No, that's news to me.” Gary shrugged. “I’m new in town”

 

She sighed as only a very pretty girl can. “Tis also said that War, he never releases a Contract, but tis known that he would, an Healer did ask.”

 

Hope sprang in Gary’s eyes, quickly dashed. “Many oer the centuries be like Liam, Contracted tae War by well meaning kin, an doomed tae unhappiness.” She sighed again “An many did plead wi Healer, never does she hear the prayers of those bound to War.”

 

Thinking on his first meeting with Liam, Gary asked, “What if someone else asked, like a priest, Tawny? Or Priestess Naomi?”

 

“Nae, tis many ways and times been tried an many more will try.”

 

“I heard Liam asking Otho if Joy had answered a request a while back, could Joy help?”

 

“Joy be most Beloved of all gods and peoples, but fickle, wild an strange. Did Joy ask, mayhap. Otho be high Priest of Joy, beloved of her. An Otho did ask, Mayhap.”

 

She went back to her work. “Mayhap be thin armor in a land of monsters, better be good steel forged in love, tae guard me brother’s hide.”

 

Gary did not even have the excuse of pumping a bellows for her, his shop was powered by magic. So he stood just close enough to touch her without getting in her way and waited.

 

“Soon she dropped the armor piece into a bed of dry sand to cool, complaining; “cannae work an cry, tears do cool me work.” He held her close and schemed in silence.

 

After a time they got back to work, Gary finishing as much as he could on his new mandolin in short order. “Need anything from me Shai? Idle hands are the Devil’s workshop they say.”

 

She pitched a clod of borax at him, calling; “Dinnae invoke devils over me workpiece foolish boy, lest I burn ye arse wi a hot tong.”

 

Gary wiped the chalky residue out of his hair and complained. “That’s gonna be all itchy, now I have to shower! And you like my ass!”

 “Aye, ah do like yer arse, but now I’ve need fer yer hands, feckless and clumsy though they be.” She handed him a rough wooden crate about two feet long and eight inches on a side.

 

Inside was an oilskin wrapped spear head of bronze, chased delicately in silver. Broad and leaf shaped, it ended at three steel hooks facing the point and three facing back. It was fearsome looking and the empty socket for a haft was a clear indication of his part in the job.

 

“Meself an Tallum been working that point fer two weeks now, usin yer magic tae give the craft some extra punch. It did turn out fine indeed. Mine was the casting and the forging, twas Tallum designed the wicked thing and he what engraved the blade.”

 

It was exquisite, two feet of keen edged bronze, hammered at the edges to compact the metal hard as steel. It was the engravings that made a fine gift to a young warrior, into a treasure fit for any hand.

 

Graceful vines in silver twined naturally up from the collar of the spear, branching and bearing various fruits picked out in gold, brass, copper, bronze and even a tiny bunch of grapes done in a purple metal that almost looked juicy.

 

Gary touched it and was startled.

 

Null Item;Incomplete, unique spear. unranked/null/null/null

Magical, No Elemental Affinity. A qualified sorcerer will be required to complete this non sentient item/null/null.

 

This was going to be a challenge. “I have never really paid attention to what he likes in a spear, I'm usually busy trying to keep him from pounding my head in…”

 

Shai smiled, reached into her bosom and tossed him a tidy green notebook filled with tidy ladylike letters. The script was delicate, almost beautiful. The book smelled like Shai… warm bergamot and sandalwood with wildflowers and forge smoke, delicious.

 

“Are ye gonna read it er smell it ye creepy weirdo?” She clapped her hands loudly. “Aye, were betwix me tits, ye animal. An ye bathe that flux out o yer hair mayhap I’ll let ye do that “motor boat” ye were on about. Fer now, that be the measurements o Liam’s favorite spear an notes on its wear. Tis me own work an ye kin be sure its right.”

 

“You can write? And read?” another wad of borax hit him, puffing into salty dust in his ear.

 

“Did ye think honest smiths nae kin read? An I should be a barefoot, skirted fool fer yer chasin… well I do be liking that part, but I damn well read, foolish boy!”

 

“Your penmanship, it's so cute! You should write wedding invitations!” He gushed, Shai was a beautiful forest of wonders and every rock he turned over had charming surprises, rather than wriggling worms.

 

“Ahh, ye make a point, ah mae well be drawin up the invitations tae the wedding feast. An ye survive tae that day most foolish of boys.”

 

As Gary slowly recounted that last interchange in his mind he realized that in many ways he might have just…

 

“Sooo? Ironwood for the shaft? I should have enough. Unless you have a better idea?” She nodded. 

 

“Aye tis Ironwood is best to be had here, not much finer in any place. Blackthorn be splendid, though a blackthorn would be rare indeed in that size.”

 

“I’ll keep an eye out, when is his birthday?” He got another of those ‘why do I have to explain this?’ looks and she obliged. 

“By tradition all Orphans be given their birth day and such rituals on the feast o War. One month hence.”

 

Gary did some loose thinking. “So its Healer at the end of summer, Order this month and War next?”

 

“Aye, tis War, following after Healer, and Order standin between fer all the world’s sake, tis Crafts chasing war, for he be hungry fer goods an arms. Joy do chase Crafts fer his works be the secrets of her arts, an Secrets do lurk at midwinter’s door on the darkest day, holding man’s last light.” Gary was rapt, as she almost chanted her singsong catechism.

 

“An on next full moon night, do the God O Beasts walk the land, lost in hunger and rage fer the secrets he hae forgotten. Goddess water do flow in with spring, an her lover Wind comes soon after. Fire is best pleased to be after Wind, for he lords that oer Earth who is patiently waitin his turn. Ere the blazing sun at midsummer brings Healer back into the Light.”

 

Gary had used her singsong chant and the tapping of his toes, making a soft and almost physical aura of music in the room. His gouges and chisels sang in harmony with the deep one note thrum of the lathe. He hummed a fierce and mindless tune in strident A major, a call to battle, but not to War.

 

As he riveted the glorious head onto the almost complete weapon, Gary changed the tune, shifting into Bedlam Boys, manic and fae.

 

This spirit’s white as lightning

Would On me Travels guide me

The moon would shake and the stars would quake

When ever they espied me!

 

Lost in the sounds and work he never even noticed as Tallum handed him a bronze butt cap, wrought on the shape of an uprooted tree, twining brazen roots clinging to a ball of black iron.

 

The shaft was a rich amber, almost light honey swirled with dark and frozen. It nearly glowed with a red gold liquid shimmer under the shop lights. The butt cap and head’s bronze material joined harmoniously into the swirling grain.

 

“We had better work on that armor now…” Tallum solemnly said, stepping up to his workbench. Shai and Gary were still lost in wonder.

 

Huntsman’s Bounty; unenchanted, unique spear. unranked/null/null/null

Magical, Etheric. A qualified sorcerer will be required to complete this non sentient item/null/null.

 

Gary was stunned. This huge lore dump had landed on him and he didn’t even have a pencil… he conjured a pen and pad and began scribbling furiously. “Could you repeat that, I wanna get it all down!”

 

“Dinnae they teach aught at yer college o fancies?” Shai asked.

 

“Band name! College of Fancies. Its done, Band Name.”Gary called in triumph. “We just named the band.”

 

“Oooh shuren I’ve picked a mad one… but he has a cute arse at least” She sighed, shaking her head sadly.

On a pleasant early autumn third day, Otho the man walked into the workshop where the three craftspeople were working while singing a harmonious cadence together.

Doo Waa Diddy…

He Leaned against the wall tapping his toes and eating a sandwich clearly labeled DO NOT EAT in seven languages.

When they paused he said, “Your sandwich lacks savor Gary.”

“It packs a surprising punch later Otho. Did you not read the label?”

Smugly he replied, “I did not!” as he handwaved any minor issues of sandwich ownership away. “I come not to read the scribblings of some cook, but to tell you deep secrets gained at great cost through intensive study.”

 

“That my pool is etheric magic, my gifts are overpowered because of a tear in the etheric veil bound to my soul through my gifts?” He nodded 

“and my item Contract lacks the safety rails of a divine Contract, making me a dangerous unknown quantity?” He nodded.

 “And you can't put me into a divine contract because I am an orphan?” He nodded.

 

“And you felt guilty because my pool rejuvenated you and you feared you were stealing my life force away by soaking in it, perhaps shortening my life?” 

Otho pulled out a pad and began jotting down extensive shorthand notes. “Naturally my boy,” He smiled wanly. “You seem to have done some snooping.”

 

“You are just going to pretend you thought about whether you were giving me the Wilford Brimley, when clearly I just brought the possibility to your attention?” Gary asked, stiffly and a little miffed.

Otho looked uncomfortable and shifty. “A number of theories were proposed…”

 

“Unbelievable.” He sighed. “Shai, Tallum, someone ate the sandwich.” They sprang into action, heading upstairs with a whispered exchange of “This is not a drill.”

 

In need of a distraction, he waved at the old man. “Otho, please I want to show you something.”

Seeing the sundered violin he also sighed. “Can you repair it?”

“I can, but tell her I need to order the lumber from a town called Mistglen village. Two months minimum. She can keep mine until hers is done.”

“Very generous, Joy is indebted to you” Otho said, with a tone that smacked of ritual, leaving a faint vibration in the air. The old man seemed to not notice.

Gary smiled, “let's take a walk in the market and then you can bathe, I bet you miss it, draining my vital essence away like a vampire?”

 

Gary's pleasant and conversational tone belied his words, as he led them out the front door and into the half circle of waiting Bathers who solemnly chanted: “Someone ate the sandwich.” 

Just as Otho developed a desperate need for a bath, to the polite applause of the Yacht Club members.

 

While his thunderous discharges echoed through the now eerily silent ward, Otho stumbled back inside for the bath.

 

Gary looked at his friends and asked “Fer the dance?”

And they were.