PART II - YELLOW, BROWN and WHITE?

“N-Next,” Earick called out, finally getting his composure back, and taking his seat to make the final notes he needed regarding Vanis. He looked up to see the knees of an Ogre and then looked even more up. Earick swallowed hard. “Hello, Recruit,” he said carefully, remembering what had happened not long before when the Pixie had been injured, and the Ogre’s terrifying response to it.”

“Am Tazrok. Am Ogre. Am Corporal Punishment.”

Earick swallowed, not sure how to respond. It took him another long moment to realize he needed to log the Ogre’s name, finally managing to ask, “Do you have a surname?”

The Ogre screwed up his face into a confused look and he turned to Lena.

“A last name,” Lena called back in clarification.

Tazrok took a moment to think about this, his fists opening and closing slowly in time with his breathing. He did not like his tribe name, he just wanted to be Tazrok. His tribe name was not who he was, and not who he ever wanted to be. The Ogre thought hard, and remembered his fist hitting his palm earlier before he punished the Dwarf for hurting the Pixie, and the loud CRACK it had made. “It will be Thunderfist.” he said.

“Th-Thunderfist?” Earick asked.

“Yes, Thunderfist,” Tazrok advised in a low tone. “This, I have decided.”

“Yes. I see,” Scryer Earick said, slowly getting the hint. The Elf stood, holding the gem before him before clearing his throat. “As you know, this may tickle, but won’t hurt. Please try to be still.”

Tazrok crossed his arms and waited.

“Your class is … wait, that can’t be right. That would make you a … let me do this again.”

Earick took a deep calming breath, before looking through the gem and recasting his spell. “This is so odd. Yes, yellow, brown and white. That simply cannot be. Please, excuse me for a moment.”

Earick walked over to the other table and whispered into the other Scryer's ear. She was making some notes in her log book and generally getting organized after completing her intake line. After hearing what Earick said, she got a perplexed look on her face. “Are you sure? The Ogre? That can’t be.”

“What do you think that’s about?” Lena asked quietly. “Yellow, brown and white? What does that mean?”

“That would mean he’s a Hybrid, right?” Callie asked.

“It would. Something must be wrong with the scrying stone,” Vanis said. “Or perhaps I made the Scryer too nervous to continue. Berserker or Barbarian is a Warrior specialist, so I would assume Tazrok’s color would be brown, like your Warrior color, Lena, but with a Berserker symbol in it,”

“Is something wrong?” Callie asked in a whisper. “Is Tazrok in trouble?”

“I don’t think wrong, Miss Callie,” Vanis said, “but this is certainly strange. Yellow, brown and white? Xin, one of your colors is white, correct?”

“Yes. White for Healer.”

“And yellow must be for Scout,” Lena added, “since we know blue is for Wizard. Or it could be Scholar, I suppose, but I overheard that the advanced Scholar classes were sent somewhere else. None of them should be here.”

“An Ogre with a Scout/Warrior/Healer Hybrid?” Vanis said quietly.

“What would that make him?” Callie asked.

“I’m not sure,” Vanis pondered. “Not like any of us, that is for sure. If I gauge the Scryers correctly, not anything they’ve ever seen either, at least not in an Ogre.”

The second Scryer walked over to Tazrok, a puzzled and curious look on her face. “I apologize for the delay and confusion. My name is Yulayla, head Scryer for the camp. Scryer Earick wished me to provide a second opinion, so I am going to Scry you as well.” Behind her, Earick had beckoned one of the little Sprites down from a tree. He whispered into his ear, and the little green-haired Fae nodded once, before flying off in a rush.

Tazrok just shrugged, not sure what was happening. The rest of the team were tense with concern and a little excitement to see what the confusion might actually be due to.

“Just give me a moment here,” Yulayla said. She brought up her scrying stone and looked through it. “Let us see … Your colors are … yellow, brown and white? How?” Yulayla looked at Earick confused.

Earick just shrugged. “What do we do?”

Yulayla appeared confused. “Send for Trainer Rowani, I would think, to get her opinion?”

“I already dispatched a Sprite to fetch her.” Earick said quickly.

“What is going on,” Lena interrupted. “Is something wrong with Tazrok?”

Yulayla looked up. “No, no. I don’t think so. Just some strange findings from the scrying stone. Nothing bad, just very puzzling. We are fetching someone else for their opinion as well. It will just be a few minutes. Trainer Rowani should be nearby.”

“Strange how?” Vanis asked, trying to get a little clarification.

“An Ogre should not be a Scout/Warrior/Healer Hybrid. It just … can’t happen.” Yulayla said, before starting to speak in quiet whispers with Earick. Callie strained to listen in, but couldn’t make anything out.

“Should we be worried?” Callie asked in a whisper, looking up at her Ogre friend.

“They don’t seem concerned,” Vanis said, gesturing towards the two Scryers with his chin, ”just confused.” Then he added, “We must just wait, the answers will come soon.”

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Time passed as everyone nervously waited, the Scryers refusing to say anything more beyond “Trainer Rowani should be here soon.”

From off to the left, a light tinkling sound called out from a nearby tree, like the whisper of a dream swirling down through its branches. In the blink of a moment, a tall female seemed to simply step from the tree’s trunk. In many ways, she looked like an Elf, being slender with pointed ears. But she also had pale green skin and wore absolutely no clothing at all. Her long, dark-green hair tumbled like rain to the middle of her back, and it was adorned with all manner of bright flowers and green ivy leaves. Her eyes were dark and mischievous and her lips as perfect as a sunlit rose.

“Oh my God,” Callie whispered, eyes bulging in disbelief, “she is so beautiful!” Unable to tear her eyes from the green person, all she could do was stare in wonder. Slowly, for reasons she wasn’t sure, she began to walk towards the strange green Elf, just wanting to be close to her.

Vanis looked down at Callie and quickly snapped his fingers, “Lena!”

Lena turned and gasped at Callie. “Oh hell!” She dropped to a knee in front of the Gnome, blocking her view and holding her still. Lightly, Lena slapped Callie’s face. “Callie! Hey! Look at me!” She slapped her face again, harder this time.

Callie didn’t react as she forcibly pushed Lena aside to get an unobstructed view of the green-skinned Elf, and struggled to get free of Lena’s tight grip. The little Gnome was totally mesmerized by the purity of her beauty. She imagined herself being held, embraced, entwined in her long, perfect arms; those long, perfect legs. It would be like a blanket of perfect bliss. Those lips. Those perfect lips.

“Water. We need water!” Lena said, searching her belt.

Xin remembered he had retrieved her waterskin and quickly handed it to Lena. Lena then popped the top off before pouring the entire contents over Callie’s head.

Callie sputtered and blinked rapidly, surprised. “What? Huh? Hey, you slapped me! Twice!”

“Oh thank goodness,” Lena said, putting her forehead on Callie’s.

The naked Elf turned to look at the small group. She saw the little Gnome, drenched in water, looked down, and seemed to finally notice she was naked. “Oh my, I didn’t realize!” She waved her hands and in an instant, her body covered itself from neck to ankle with a dress made from a weave of dark-green vines, with pink flowers for trim.

Vanis tore his eyes from the drenched Callie, scowling at the now clothed Elf. In a threatening, commanding voice, he said, “That was very dangerous for her, for reasons beyond the obvious.”

“I had no idea a Little One would become so enraptured, and a female at that. I simply wish to see what was so strange.” She gestured towards Tazrok to indicate the source of the strangeness.

“You surely know better than to wield that power around others so carelessly,” Vanis said, a tone of growing anger in his voice. “It was reckless and foolish and you shall not do it again!”

“Yes. My apologies, young prince. I swear it will not happen,” she said as she bowed, not hiding that she somehow knew who Vanis really was. She turned to the Scryers, moving on as if her actions were irrelevant. “Scryer Yulayla, I understand there is a situation of some confusion? Might I be of assistance?”

“Mistress Juniper!” Yulayla said, ”We were not expecting you, but … uh … welcome just the same.” The Scryer was quite nervous, unsure what she should share. “We have an odd … finding, that’s all, and have sent for Trainer Rowani.”

“Do explain,” Juniper said, and Yulayla pulled Earick and her off to the side and they began speaking quietly.

Callie wiped the dripping water off her face. “Who is that?”

“A rare Fae, Callie,” Vanis said. “And a remarkably careless one at that.”

Callie shook her head to clear it. “What the heck happened?”

“A Dryad, Callie,” Vanis said, still glaring at Juniper.

“A what?”

“A Fae tree Nymph,” Lena said.

“But what happened?” Callie asked, before adding, “Holy damn is she hot.”

Lena grabbed Callie’s face and forced it to look into her eyes. “Stop looking at her, silly. Dryads have a nasty charm. It can enrapture you to do their bidding, to walk to your own death, to even order you to simply stop breathing if one was to lust for her enough. Luckily, a cold shower snapped you out of it. Why would she be here? They usually avoid people and any kind of settlement.”

“Oh,” Callie said as she struggled to remember the stories she’d read about woodland Fairies. Slowly the stories of the Dryads and tree Nymphs came into focus; how they could charm and seduce. “Ohhhhh,” Callie said again, drawing it out and putting her hand to her face. She suddenly felt so embarrassed.

“It’s not your fault, Callie,” Vanis said. “She may indeed not have known you were here, but it was still so foolish to be walking around with that power active. If it was not you, Callie, then someone else would have surely been ensnared. She was playing games, or seeking attention, is what she was doing, and you were the unlucky recipient. Why would they allow her to be here?”

“Luckily everyone close by was an Elf. Can you imagine if those Dwarves were still here?” Lena said.

“I do not think it would have mattered,” Xin pointed out. “I think Miss Callie would have fought off all other suitors if she had to.”

“True, she was really enraptured,” Lena said.

“Hey! She’s totally hot as hell, dammit!” Callie said defensively, gesturing towards the Dryad like it should be obvious to everyone.

Lena turned to take in Juniper again, the Dryad still in heated conversation with the two Scryers. “Well, true, she is at that.”

“Why wasn’t Tazrok affected?” Callie asked. “Or Xin? Or either of you, for that matter. Why just me?”

“Elves are immune to most Fae charms, thankfully,” Vanis said.

“And she is not part male,” Xin said, ”So while very pretty, for a Fae, she is … not compatible. Also needs more scales. She would be … too soft.”

“And you?” Callie asked Tazrok, tucking the ‘part male’ comment away for another time.

“Too bony. Too little. Would break.”

Lena laughed. “That she would!”

Callie had a sudden memory of when the Legate had used his Command Aura to mess with her head a short time ago. In theory, it had been for an arguably good reason. This time though, now encountering a case where magic was able to control her actions, and in a much more serious and potentially dangerous way, she really found herself feeling violated. Sure, the Dryad was an absolute smoking hottie, but that didn’t give her the right to take control of her mind.

The conversation between Juniper and the two Scryers broke up, and Earick returned. “Recruit Tazrok. Mistress Juniper wishes to know if it is permissible to scan you herself. It will not be dangerous, but given what just happened, she wanted to make sure you bore no ill will.”

Tazrok shrugged. “Is fine. Little One not hurt, only wet.”

“Ahh, good.” Earick said, waving Juniper closer.

“Hello, Master Tazrok,'' she cooed. “I will need to touch your palms to see what needs to be seen.”

Tazrok held his hands out, palms up. Hesitantly, Juniper reached out and rested her own hands on his. They were absolutely tiny in comparison. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on reading the Ogre. “Your name,” she said, a slightly overly-dramatic drone in her voice, “Is Tazrok Deathstorm.” She opened her eyes, the drone suddenly stopping, “Well, that is quite the ominous name, isn’t it.”

Tazrok gave a low growl. “Don’t like name. Don’t like to hurt.”

“Ahh, I see. This is why you wished to go by Thunderfist?”

“Yes. Sound scary, but not hurty.”

“Hmm. I see great wisdom in that choice of name, Tazrok Thunderfist.” She closed her eyes and continued her examination, the spooky voice not returning this time. “You are Conscript Cursed, but that is to be expected here. You know the Berserker skills Whirlwind and Enrage, which you learned from your mother. How lovely. And several Barbarian skills? Heavy Punch, Headbutt, Thunderclap, and Warstomp. Nicely done! And yet … this is so very strange. Your aura colors are yellow, brown and white. Triple-class Hybrid! Extraordinary for an Ogre!”

“What do those colors mean?” Lena called out. “None of us know.”

“If my reading is correct, and it most certainly is, these colors mean your friend is a … Druid.”