Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: hutch@ibeam.intel.com (Steve Hutchison) Subject: [MG][BAND] Schooldaze Message-ID: Date: Wed, 4 Aug 1993 04:37:31 GMT [ADMIN] Dougl appears courtesy of Dennis Brennan. The twins were prancing around nervously. In this case, prancing was the right term; their satyr feet weren't really balanced for standing in place for a long time, so their fidgeting kept turning into walking, and walking into jumping around. "Guys, cut it out. You're tearing up the grass," Lex said, blocking away a staff thrust. "Good shot, Anna. Next time, go more to the left. If I use the standard block it'll pull your staff right into line for a gut-punch, and if I block outside, it leaves an opening for a strike to the kidneys." The gold-haired satyr female nodded, bells jingling in her hair. Behind her, a red-furred satyr male snuck up quietly. She whirled just as he was about to jump at her, staff whipping past his face. "I think that's enough practice for now," Lex grinned. "Hey, Karl. You guys gonna be back before dinnertime?" "Sure thing," Karl replied. "St Cuthberts' is dead boring. I just wanted to see how the cousin's doing. And introduce Anna." "OK, I'll open the gate when you're ready to come back. Payback is that Rhythm Song makes an appearance tonight at Ale House. I've got a date and I want him to hear you guys play." "Who is it?" Anna asked curiously. "Erik. He's a fellow I met a few weeks ago, lives in the Elven quarter." "So he's an elf?" "No, he's human. I'll introduce you after the gig." "OK.. Hey, got anything special you want us to play?" Karl grinned. "Something to get him in the mood?" "Oh gods no," Lex said, "That would be exactly the wrong thing to do." Karl and Anna exchanged glances. "Is this something like what 'Raf said the other day when we tried to drag him into the party?" "Exactly. I like this guy a lot, I don't want to lose control." The red satyr shrugged. "Fine, be that way." "Which reminds me. Did you teach the others about how grounding and centering yet?" "Uh, sort of." "Fine. Dack, Dirk, get over here. I want all of you to show me how well you do at ground and center. You're going out in public, you need to be able to block out the other people. _And_ how to keep from pushing your own emotions out at random. We don't need a rash of new babies in nine months because you see a pretty face on the street, right?" There was a sort of group shrug of assent. Lex tried hard not to laugh. "OK. All of you, sit seiza position." They knelt, resting in an upright position. Lex looked carefully at them, then finally nodded. "That's a start. 'Raf did a good job putting those bodies together, you guys have no blockages. OK... Breathe in, slowly, feeling the air move as a stream across the inside of your nose, then down your throat, into the bottoms of your lungs. There's a sparkling energy coming in with each breath, and it just keeps going, sinking into the center of your balance, a bit below the navel. Good. Now, slowly, exhale, and that same energy moves out from that center through your whole body, like wind filling a sail. Good. I'm impressed. Now, keep it up, slowly breathe in, then hold for a few seconds, then slowly out, then hold, then in again. Good. Now, you can feel your whole body. What you're feeling is you, your own spirit, your own life, your own energies. Now, let that feeling spread out a little, that's far enough. That's the person sitting next to you. Keep breathing. Now, keep practicing this sensation, being aware of where you are and where the person next to you is. When you're playing music, that extends even farther. All of you, I want you to overlap me, for a moment. Good. Close your eyes. Good. Now, Karl, which hand am I clenching?" "The right. Your fingernails are sharp." "Anna, what am I doing right now?" "Scratching your head." "Dirk, what am I doing now?" "Smelling a flower. A violet." "Dack, what am I doing?" "You're looking at Anna, thinking about how soft her fur is." "Right, all of you. I'm going to project an emotion, strongly, and I want you to block it out. You can open your eyes or not. Ready?" "Yeah. Sure." They all nodded. Lex thought about the morning, when he and 'Raf had merged for just a few minutes before they had fallen apart. "Geez." Karl was sweating, trying to breathe evenly. Lex didn't relent. "Keep breathing, Karl. Remember to ground." "Right. That's better." The ache receded, he could tell it wasn't his own pain again. After a few minutes, Lex stopped. "All right, guys. I guess you're as prepared as you're gonna be today. I want each of you to take one of these rings with you. They've got my own mark on them, I'll be able to tell if things are getting too rough for you and I'll either open a gate for you or come help out." Lex gave them each a silver band with a wave carved around it. "So, Dirk, Dack, you want to visit the folks again. You know your Mom still doesn't like you being satyrs." "Yah, she thinks we're gonna talk th' kids into changing." Dirk snorted. "As if!" Dack said. "'Raf didn't change anyone last night at the big party, not even ol' Melwiss." "Melwiss didn't really want to be young again," Lex sighed. "He just thinks he does. He really wanted to be even richer than he is, but 'Raf didn't have to do anything to arrange that particular trick." He rose fluidly to his feet, and walked to the place where the gateway apparatus was still set up from the morning. "OK, Dirk, Dack. Go get your street clothes, I'm not sending you to downtown harbortown in sling-pouches." He grinned and swatted at Dack as he ran past, racing his brother into the lighthouse. "I forgot, Lex, we were supposed to make a dinner and put it in the box for the 'corn hunters." Karl was apologetic. "No problem. I need to use up some ingredients anyway, and Little Rat needs to learn about fixing more than sammidges. You two better get going, the visiting hour starts soon. Oh yeah." Lex touched the frame of the gateway apparatus, and muttered a few coordinates in the 'kani speech. A wrought-iron gate, guarded by a fellow in a preposterous hat and overdone armor, appeared through the gateway. Karl and Anna pulled on their cloaks from the ground where they'd been left -- they'd changed from their workout gear while Lex was setting up the gateway -- and went through the opening. The Academy of the Blessed Saint Cuthbert Militant was located outside the actual city walls, in a small village to the southeast of Generica. It sprawled over an immense stretch of land, but the important parts were the Dormitory, the Collegium, and the Parade. The Collegium was where classes were held. The Parade was a partly indoor arena where the mandatory skills of horsemanship were taught to the students, and the Collegium was where the doctrines of Honor, Proper Etiquette, The Writ and Wisdom of Saint Cuthbert, and How to Be Adventurous, all were taught to (and sometimes beaten into) the dense skulls of any who attended. They also taught unnecessary things like arithmetic and reading. The guard at the gate let Karl and Anna pass, once Karl presented his identification papers. He glared suspiciously at them until they were around the corner of the road leading into the grounds. "So is Dougl waiting for us or what?" Anna demanded. "He's supposed to be finishing his finals today," Karl replied, "if his last letter home was right." He walked over to where a group of stalwart young men were standing in front of a notice board. "Any of you gents know where I can find Dougl?" There was some mild consternation when they saw the red-haired man with the horns and hairy, hooved goat-legs, but it _was_ visiting hours, and after a few moments of careful scrutiny (Karl felt waves of magic passing through him -- someone was Protecting From Evil) one of the older paladins-in-training nodded, eyes narrowed, and replied. "He's been packing for the holidays, if he isn't in the Dormitory you can find him at the Parade doing his finals in Horsemanship." "Thanks." Karl turned to go, but the fellow followed him. "Courtesy requires that we provide you an escort," he said, smiling a prefabricated smile. Karl nodded, feeling the mixture of concern, chivalry, raw curiosity, and xenophobia radiating from the young man. "Of course. I'm Karl son of Derol. Dougl's my cousin. This is my business partner, Anna." "Barret. Brenton Barret. The Third. I'm squired to Sir Michael von Mus, the great warrior." He polished his fingernails absently on the hem of his tabard. "I, uh, see," Anna replied, wondering why she was having the mental image of a gnomish ancient saying "war not make one great" in a high funny voice. Probably more of 'Raf's strange imagery that came with the music. "Milady." Barret held out a hand, politely, and escorted her down the road towards the Dormitories, Karl catching up and walking on her other side, grinning to himself. Dougl was trying frantically to fit all his clothes into a too-small suitcase. He looked up as Barret led the two visitors into his room, nodding, "Hi, Karl," as he fought with the recalcitrant strap. A moment later he fell over and the case fell open, and he stared with open mouth at Karl and Anna. "Ka_ Karl? What happened to you?" Karl laughed. "We got carried away doing satyr drumsongs and they had side effects." Dougl stared at his cousin, eyes narrowed, before he finally shook his head. "No, you won't get me this time. I've been taking classes in how to be less gullible. It's optional but I decided to take them anyway, I did. So you can't fool me, uh-uh." Karl started howling with laugher, while Barret looked on confused. "Have you taken that course too?" Anna quizzed Barret, eyes wide. "Of course not. There is no such course. Why would we need such a thing? Paladins are not gullible, that's all an unfair stereotype." Karl just laughed louder and Dougl turned to look out the window, shoulders shaking. Barret frowned. Anna smiled behind her hand, then blinked her eyes fetchingly at Barret. "Indeed. Could you do me a favor, esquire Barret? I find myself feeling light-headed. If you would be so kind as to bring me a glass of cool water from the kitchens below?" "Certainly. Are you sure you're not ill? I could lay hands and pray for healing ...." He blushed and looked a little uncomfortable. "Oh, no, that won't be necessary, it's just the long walk from town, I'm a bit thirsty." "I shall return post-haste." He whirled and left the room. They watched the broad armored back disappear, the short blue parade cloak flowing heroically as he strode out the door. "Gods what a stuffed shirt," Karl grinned. "So how DID you get turned into a satyr?" Dougl said, lightly punching his cousin on the shoulder. "Looks good on you. You do a wizard a favor or something?" "No, it was one of your Dragons' Inn adventurers. A guy name of 'Raf, he says he came to Generica after you had already been rescued from the slavers and sent off to school." "Really? What's he look like?" "Hard to say, really. He's a big blond satyr sometimes, looks a lot like that goofus who just left, but not as vapid. Rest of the time he's a sort of a different thing, looks a little like a draga but not as big and without the spikes on the tail. Shapeshifter. He's got a pretty nice place that he's been letting us stay in, while we get used to being satyrs." "Huh. Why would he do that?" "Well, he didn't really ask us first, and he seems to be one of the better kind of magician -- he's kind of sorry he did it. Feels guilty. Until we remind him that we picked out the shapes ourselves. I think. That part's still kind of hazy." Anna smiled again, and tousled Karl's red hair. "Karl was the first focus for the spell, so he doesn't remember much of what really happened. 'Raf was under some kind of a curse, but he broke it before things got really bad. So you're the famous Dougl." She gave him an appraising glance up and down. "Not bad looking. Too smart to be a paladin." Dougl laughed. "They want me to go into multi-class training." "What's that?" "The folks who run this place have everyone divided up into classes and levels and stuff. Like Barret, he's a first level Paladin, but his brother Georg is a second level Ranger. And until my test results come back, I'm a zero level Paladin Candidate. They do this weird ceremony when you graduate, gets you in good with the Gods, and then once you're OK, they teach you all sorts of neat things like how to resist spells and poisons and stuff, and how to repel evil things." Anna laughed. "One of the fellows that Barret was with, thought we were some sort of demon. They did a spell like that. I thought it was king of silly, really." "So when do you leave, you wanna visit us for a few days?" Dougl's face assumed a neutral expression, and Karl wondered at the sensation of reluctance -- mixed with a hint of, what, prudishness? The paladin-in-training came up with what the Karl recognized as a thinly veiled excuse. "Oh, the post coach going north is due this evening. Uncle expects me to be there at the farm to help with the late early harvest, since the storm took out so much of the fields." Karl shrugged. It was true, the farm had been damaged. He had even gone back for a few days to help in the cleanup, himself. "Well, try to get to see us, there's a month before you have to be back... You heard from Uncle Karl lately?" "Uh, he died, Karl. Founders' Day. He died of old age. I was there." "Oh." Karl sat down hard. Tears started running from his eyes. Dougl reached a hand out, touching his cousin on the shoulder. "Hey, I know, but he went at the right time. He was just starting to be really arthritic, and he still had his mind with him. He never did think much of getting old and senile and useless." "Yeah. I know. I wish I'd known. Nobody told me." "He was proud of you," Dougl said, uselessly. "Yeah? Howcome he never came to any of our performances?" "I dunno. Maybe he ... geez. Karl, howcome I feel like someone just punched me in the gut?" Dougl sat down on the floor beside his bedmat where Karl was slumped. "I'm sorry. My fault. I'm leaking." Karl looked miserably at Anna. She sighed, and stroked his head. He closed his eyes, breathing quietly for a minute, and Dougl shook his head and stood up again. "Wow. You really got the whole package. I didn't know they could do that," Dougl said, gesturing. "Giving powers with the shape like that." "Yeah, 'Raf's pretty thorough. You should see Clyde. Or the Varnaker girls." Anna smiled, as Karl collected himself. "Not Bea and Bella? The girls from the big place south of the farm, their daddy owns a shipping company?" Dougl was interested, and the satyrs felt the curiosity spiking from him. Karl managed a grin. "Them's the ones. Ever see a Mustelian?" "No." "Looks kind of like a skunk," Anna said wryly. "Their daddy has been trying to marry them off into Melwiss' family -- thought he wasn't going to be able to. Then he found out that the 'witzes have a thing for fur and he's been kicking himself for asking for such a small dowry." Karl wiped his face on the underside of his tunic. Dougl resumed trying to close his suitcase. "What you got in there?" "Books, mostly. And some clothes." Dougl moved back as Karl examined the case to see why it wasn't closing. "If you fold about half the clothes the books will fit, or if you carry the clothes in another bag, they'll fit. Gah, when did you wash this last?" He held up a stocking. It wriggled slightly. "Hey, that's not mine, that's my roommate's -- toss it on his side." "Not too high, it'll stick," Anna giggled. "Whew, what a unique aroma." "What's this?" Karl asked, unwadding a grimy shredded shapeless bit of cloth. It unfolded into a tunic about the right size for a thirteen year old boy. "Uh, that's just some old clothes I had when I came here." "Little small for you. Why haven't you thrown 'em out? Or given them to the poor, anyway," Karl said, grinning wickedly. "Lots of kids would love to have a paladin's old sweaty grimy tunic." "Creep!" Dougl said, punching Karl in the shoulder. The satyr rocked back just a little, still grinning, and Dougl shook his hand. "Ow. Hey, you take up swordfighting or something? Thought you were just a musician. Musicians don't get muscles that hard, not even satyrs." "Depends on why they're satyrs, eh? But 'Raf is really keen on martial arts, he's a good teacher. Taught me how to do that trick." "Really? Suppose he'd be willing to teach me?" "Only if you come visit." "Welllll..." Anna winked seductively. "We promise not to corrupt you too much. Besides, we'll all go help take the crop in, so your uncle won't miss you..." "Ok. If we go there first. He's sending Rogger to meet me at the post, so ..." "So first we help you finish packing. You two figure out what to toss and what you're gonna take, and I'll call Lex and let him know what's up," Anna decided. She didn't wait to see what they did, but instead, took off the ring that Lex had given her, holding it before her, and closed her eyes. A moment later, the door to the room flickered, and instead of the hallway out, a garden was visible on the other side. "Hey, what did you do to my door?" Dougl complained. "Nothing permanent," replied the blond man who came through the opening. "Hm. So you're Dougl. You look a lot older than ...sage led me to believe." "We grow up fast here," Dougl replied. "You sure the door is OK?" "Don't worry, I'll fix it in a minute. What did you want, Anna?" "Shiny britches here wants to come visit, but he's got to straighten up his other arrangements..." "Right, the harvest," the man interrupted. "Bummer. It's happening. 'scuse me, folks." He reached into the doorway behind him, but instead of his hand going into the garden, it sort of rippled as if he was reaching into water. He pulled, and the slightly dishevelled form of Brenton Barret was dragged into the room, almost spilling the glass of water that he was holding. "Why, thank you," Anna purred, taking the water from him as he sputtered in protest. "Wall -- there was a wall there -- what's going on here?" Dougl shrugged. "I just live here." Anna silenced him by drinking her glass of water in a flagrant and provocative fashion, then batting her eyes at him flirtatiously while he turned a bright beet-red. "I've borrowed the doorframe to anchor a magical gate," the blond man replied. "My name is Lex. My brother's apprentice asked for my help on a minor problem, and it was the least intrusive way to solve it. Dougl, I'll be glad to help straighten things out with your uncle. Will you be wanting more help with the harvest?" "If you don't mind." "Not a problem. I like the work, and Erik needs to see some more of the countryside. That man spends too much time in the dark." "Who's Erik?" Karl asked, finally getting Dougl's case to close. There was a pile of clothing on the floor beside him. "Erik is a friend of mine, we're launching a grand passion. Keep your hands off or else," Lex replied, shaking his head in disgust at the way the pile kept twitching. "Dougl, that's alive," he said, pointing to the heap. "Something in there is NOT friendly. Did you ... ah. Your roommate's clothes. Did he ever visit the sewers in Generica?" "I think so. Field trip," Dougl replied. "Thought so. You've got an ot-yug in there. They're a kind of a cross between a fungus and a slime, he must have gotten some of the spore on him during the trip. They're harmless but they eat garbage. You, Barret. Go get a bucket and I'll load the unfortunate cadet Dougl's new pet into it, along with his meals for the next two weeks. Dare we send it to the kitchens?," he said speculatively, then shrugged. "Not a good idea, I guess. There's too many folks around here who'd bully the poor thing." "How do I get a bucket," Barret muttered rebelliously, "When the door doesn't go anywhere?" "You're never going to make Paladin with an attitude like that," Lex replied. "Just try walking through it." Barret tentatively reached his left hand through the door, and it made the same liquid rippling as before. He steeled himself and lunged through. "Karl, you best help Dougl move his stuff through the gate," Lex said. It took four trips. Afterwards, Lex surveyed the mostly-empty room (except for the pulsating heap of old dirty laundry.) "I guess it would have been an interesting time when you got to the coach. They have a fairly small luggage allowance." "I wanted to take my books and my armor," Dougl protested. "This is going to be a problem," Lex replied. "Remember that they make you take the oath of insufficient property?" "Yeah," Karl chimed in, "`I solemnly swear that I will only own one change of underwear and the food I can carry in my backpack' or something like that, isn't it?" Dougl frowned seriously. "Now, it's not like that at all..." "Got 'im," Karl said to Anna. Dougl stopped abruptly. "Is you makin' a fool a' me?" he drawled. "Goodness, no," Karl replied in a high-pitched girlish voice, "How could I possibly make a big strong brave paladin like you look foolish?" "I'm glad you isn't makin' a fool a' me," Dougl retaliated, "'cause I'd a had ta kill ya daid, I woulda. Besides, there's a loophole in the oath. Once I take it I'll be able to carry only what I need, but my squire and a pack horse can carry whatever _they_ want to ..." A bucket protruded from the doorway and Barret fell through. Dougl shut up abruptly. "I (gasp) found (wheeze) this one." Barret held out a big wooden pail. "Thanks, dude," Lex replied, "You didn't have to run all the way." He loaded the wriggling heap of garments into the bucket, and looked at his hands with distaste. A momentary >flick< of fire and they were once again clean and odor-free. He handed the bucket to Dougl. "Your pet, Dougl. So, Barret. Are you going to be coming with us?" "I beg your pardon? No, m'lord, I'm required to attend to my master's next fight, which will be sometime this evening. Which reminds me, I'm using up my free time. Until later, gentle lady?" He bowed to Anna, a courtier's bow, and his eyes widened when he saw her delicately turned hoof peeking daintily from the hem of her dress. He fell over backwards bowing out of the room. "I think we better go now," Lex muttered. "He's about to summon the captain of the barracks." They walked through the door into the garden, and the door vanished, leaving behind only a twinge of magic and a dusting of spoors which waited only for the accumulation of garbage to become fertile.