By the time Hans got to the edge of town, several townspeople had already collected the three wounded tusks from the treeline and carried them most of the way back. Every townsperson helping was human, so they doubled up to share the weight, one person under each shoulder of each of the three tusks. The others grabbed the rucksacks the tusks dropped in the snow. The faces of the townspeople were red, and their chests huffed when they got to Hans.
Looking around, seeing no sign of Charlie and Galinda, Hans decided the guild hall was the closest building with enough space for the tusks and anyone who might need to treat them.
He told Kane to run to the guild hall to get the potions and the first aid supplies out of the storage room and spread them on his desk. He told Quentin to tell Olza what was happening and ask her to bring anything that might help with frostbite or hypothermia. When Hans turned back to the tusks, they were close enough now for him to fully assess the situation.
Luther looked gaunt and sickly and had cuts and bruises all over his face. To Hans’ eye, the damage looked like the blues and purples were painted by fists. The tusk was alive, but he was unconscious. His eyes fluttered open on occasion, but they stayed soft and out of focus until they fluttered shut again.
The other two tusks were women who strongly favored their orc genes, were slightly smaller than Luther, and had the same kinds of cuts and bruises. Their clothing wasn’t ostentatious, but the quality of the materials and the craftsmanship were apparent, from the gold embroidered accents on their blue cloaks to the polished brown leather of their boots. These were tusks with means and no shortage of taste.
One of the tusks was seriously injured. The torn and shredded tunic tied around her thigh was soaked through with blood, the original green of the shirt turned black. Hans spotted the same blood-soaked black when the tusk’s cloak hung open from how she was carried. She likely had a rib or stomach wound to go with the hole in her leg. The tusk was mostly alert, but she was tired and battered enough that consciousness seemed to require her deliberate effort.
The other tusk had a bruised face and contended with extreme exhaustion. She favored her left arm, but she tried to hide it. Hans had kicked too many injured adventurers out of training over the years to not notice when someone’s pride came before their health. In this situation, however, the Guild Master could respect the tusk for putting her injured comrades ahead of her own needs.
The townspeople laid Luther and the bleeding female tusk–whose name Hans later learned was Annabel–on the guild hall tables while the third tusk–named Annalee–sat on a bench nearby. Olza tended to Luther while Hans cut the old bandages off of Annabel to evaluate her injuries.
“He hadn’t had a real meal in weeks,” Annalee said, her voice strained. “He was like that when we found him, they beat on him… and then they beat on us for taking him. Bel’s leg is from a sword. We think her stomach is from window glass. Not sure though.”
Bel accepted the healing potion tipped into her lips, Hans helping her lift her head up long enough to swallow without choking. The potion went to work, but with injuries this severe, they needed to be monitored and tended. He cleaned the wounds, applied a layer of one of Olza’s salves to aid in the recovery process, and carefully bandaged the tusk’s leg and ribs. Like stitches, the skin and tissue needed to be aligned for proper healing, and the risk of infection was always a concern. Shortcuts weren’t worth the risk.
“We have an Apprentice White Mage in Gomi,” Hans said to Annalee, who asked that she simply be called Lee. “She’s out on a gnoll job, but we’ll have her check in as soon as she’s back. Olza–that’s her with Luther–is Gomi’s alchemist. She knows what she’s doing.”
With a pause in the chaos, Hans took fresh stock of the situation to be sure he didn’t miss something important. Lee had no serious wounds, but she looked like she hadn’t slept. Bel was stable. Her injuries weren’t insignificant, but no arteries or vital organs appeared to have been harmed. She’d sleep for a day or two but should recover. Luther’s status was harder to judge from a distance, but he looked like a prisoner liberated from a goblin camp. Olza still cared for him, and Hans knew better than to interrupt.
The hearth burned larger than usual, an odd change that now caught his eye. A lean around the benches revealed three fresh logs on the fire, their woodgrain a rich, dirty orange. Kane must have added them, Hans concluded. As he thought about it, he realized buckets of fresh water awaited them when they first brought the injured tusks inside. Kane must have thought to do that as well and had all of that done before any of them arrived.
“I take it you’re Hans?” Lee asked.
He nodded.
“Master Theneesa said you could help us.”
That answered a question that bothered Hans all winter: What happened to the tusks Theneesea referenced in her last letter? Apparently, by the time they reached Osare, the pass to Gomi was snowed in. They were waiting for the seasons to change to finish their journey, but the orc conflict caught up to them.
“I’ll tell you the full story when I’m less delirious,” Lee continued. “We found him–Luther–like this a few days back, and we made a run for Gomi.”
According to Lee, the main front of the orc war hadn’t changed all that much over the winter. When Gomi got snowed in, the orc army had razed two hamlets–close to Gomi’s size but a little smaller–and captured a town, fortified by stone walls and iron gates. While the kingdom attempted to lay siege to recover the town, orc warbands spread through much of the kingdom. Groups of ten to fifteen orcs could move through the wilderness, avoiding roads and checkpoints to attack an unsuspecting community almost anywhere. The warbands typically lacked the numbers for an outright slaughter, but that wasn’t a comfort for those who died by their hands.
The kingdom struggled to fight a war while also rooting out hidden pockets of orcs spreading like cancerous sores. Furthermore, the orcs had been ruthless in clearcutting forests and salting the earth, stretching the demand for military resources that much more. Adventurers were hired to make up the difference, but these weren’t the wild remnants of an isolated orc tribe. These were real orcs with training and wits.
Adventurers usually fought the former. Those orcs were plenty dangerous, but they were not organized and were not particularly skilled with weapons. Usually, their size and ferocity made up for their lack of technique, but trained fighters who kept their heads usually bested them.
Lee described the invading orcs as being akin to Bronze-ranked at their weakest, but as a whole their average strength and skill was akin to a low Silver-ranked. These orcs were just as evil as any other orc, but they were good at it. They were properly equipped and conducted organized, tactically sound raids. Several adventurers fell before the guild acknowledged that these were not typical orcs, but even with better preparation, adventurers weren’t soldiers. Many more fell, and they continued to fall as the conflict continued.
“Paranoia is high,” Lee said. “Everyone is jumpy. The tusks hopping the fence to fight with the orcs haven’t helped that.”
Hans had so many questions, about the war, about the Adventurers’ Guild, about Luther, but Lee swayed on her feet and held her blinks for too long.
They all need to rest.
As Hans debated where to house the tusks, the guild hall door slammed shut. Roland patted Quentin on the shoulder as he walked by, leaving the boy to continue his duties assisting Olza while he spoke to Hans. He nodded respectfully to Lee but spoke directly to the Guild Master.
“We need to cover their trail. Soon.”
In his rush to catch up on geopolitical news, the Guild Master hadn’t thought about the three sets of bloody footprints forming a dotted line between Osare and Gomi. The quicker Roland could start, the farther down the trail he could go before he created false tracks, leading away from Gomi. He needed to balance getting as far from Gomi as he could with the potential pace of any pursuers. A false trail was great, but no one would fall for it if they stumbled upon the hunter in the midst of making it.
“Olza,” Hans called. “Roland needs to borrow some imp blood.”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
***
Charlie and Galinda took Luther back to their apartment, Galinda carrying him in her arms like he was a sleeping child. The Mayor and his wife suggested their home without hesitation and scooped up Luther as soon as Olza said he was safe to move. The tusk was going to need care and attention to get him through the next few days.
A little while later, about two hours after she drank the Healing potion, Bel stirred. She was still weak, but she was lucid. Hans and Kane helped her up the stairs to Hans’ apartment. As they gently lowered Bel into the bed, Lee asked if she could sleep on the couch. She wanted to be close by if Bel needed something. Hans had a similar concern, so he put another log on the fire upstairs, showed Lee where she could get more wood if she needed it, and went downstairs to unroll a bedroll onto the stone floor of the guild hall.
Dragging tables and benches away from the hearth, he left his bedroll in front of the fire to warm and settled into his desk chair to read, propping his feet up. Not long after Hans added a new log to the fire, Lee came downstairs wrapped in a blanket and wearing pajamas Galinda brought for her.
“I smell beer,” she said, stopping in the doorway of the guild hall.
Hans retrieved a cup for Lee, who happily accepted. “Since you’ve drank my beer, are we going to take care of that arm?”
Lee removed her heavy cloak, revealing a forearm drenched in blood. “Master Theneesa said we could trust you as much as we trust her. Have to admit, though, seeing tusks living in Gomi won me over.”
“Potion or stitches?”
“Stitches.”
“A lot of people will want to meet you,” Hans said as he set out suturing tools and fresh bandages. “The Tribe is a short walk from here. Humans live there too, but most of the tusks prefer to be there instead of Gomi, away from merchants or the odd traveler that might roll into town.”
“The Tribe?”
“A tusk family founded it. They fled Kirai when the dungeon opened, settled here, and quietly built while more tusks found their way to Gomi.” Hans explained that the Tribe gave all tusks food and shelter and offered to gift them a cabin with a plot of farmland, recently cleared for that exact purpose. He didn’t talk about the dungeon or offer too many more specifics about the Tribe, but he mentioned Galad and suggested she meet him.
The Guild Master realized he automatically hid even the thought of mentioning a blossoming dungeon. Bel and Lee were outsiders, so his instincts told him to be vague and guarded.
I suppose that makes me a real member of Gomi if that’s how my brain works now.
Bel and Lee were new to town, yes, but they came recommended by Theneesa, one of his former students and now Guild Master of the Mikata chapter. They were tusks seeking shelter, just like any of the other refugees that had come to Gomi before the blizzards came. And they had put themselves at risk to help Luther. By the looks of him, he was deadweight from the start, and that was a lot of tusk to carry all the way from Osare, even if he was mostly starved.
Galad will offer them the Charlie deal: If you don’t plan to stay, we still love you, but we won’t put the burden of our secrets on you.
Hans suggested Lee leave the freshly sutured wound open to air when he finished. “The couch is only for tonight. You’ll have a real bed of your own tomorrow. Promise.”
“I’m fine.”
“How did you meet Luther?”
“We haven’t actually met.”
“I don’t get it.” The Guild Master stared dumbly back at Lee.
“We found him in a bad state.”
Bel and Lee left Raven’s Hollow in the middle of the night. The tavern cook woke them and told them to pack. A mob grew outside, and he offered to lead them out the back while the tavernkeeper delayed the crowd for as long as he could.
They watched the sun rise as they walked the road to Osare. When they arrived, they felt the sideways glances of suspicious townspeople, but no one followed them with torches and pitchforks. They found a tavern, ate a hearty lunch, and slept the rest of the afternoon.
They found a note on the floor by the door when they woke. It read, “Tusk in stables of Leaky Mug Tavern & Inn. Help, run.”
“He was like that when we found him. Theneesa said we should go to Gomi, so that was our next stop. We didn’t get out of town fast enough, though.”
A small group of men–thirteen, she thought, but her memory was fuzzy–blocked the gate. A brawl ensued. Bel and Lee laid five of them out, and two who fled had to crawl while the others limped. As Silvers, they had an extreme advantage over a group of angry villagers, but they knew better than to massacre a group of civilians, so they kept their swords sheathed and chose to forego their most effective tactics.
The victory wasn’t a clean one, though, hence their injuries. They seized the opportunity and took the road to Gomi, not knowing that the pass was closed for snow.
Hans told Lee about the tusk she rescued. “Well, Luther was one of the volunteers who went out to tell tusks they had a safe place to go. He stayed behind to meet any who didn’t beat the snow. His idea, and he insisted on it.”
“Pretty impressive he still did his job when he was unconscious.”
Hans had to laugh. Lee was definitely an adventurer. The demeanor matched perfectly, but he still knew nearly nothing about Gomi’s newest transplants. “This might be weird to ask, but is it a coincidence you run with another Anna?”
“We were in the same orphanage. They used a list of 100 girl names to assign to a child who didn’t have or didn’t know their name. They just went in order again and again. We were next to each other in line. The girl in front of Bel got plain Anna.”
Bel and Lee’s story was familiar. Adventurer parties often had childhood friends in them. Looking out for each other was wired into who they were, and that was a big advantage in the field.
“How’d you connect with Theneesa?” he asked.
“She ate at a tavern where we worked when we were kids. Bussing tables, doing dishes, cleaning.”
Bel and Lee were thirteen at the time. They often overheard other adventurers talking about Theneesa, the White Mage who fought on the frontline with a spear in hand. And then she’d be there in person, greeting every member of the staff by name, including Bel and Lee. No one else ever talked to them or acknowledged their existence, but the White Mage did. Bel worked up the courage to ask the Guild Master about becoming an adventurer, and she offered them both a place in what she called the “Pre-Apprentice Program.” If they got good marks in their studies, they could stay. Their own beds and three meals a day came with the deal.
“That sounds like Theneesa,” Hans observed.
He had heard her talk about her idea for a Pre-Apprentice initiative but didn’t know she implemented it. She used to argue that the guild classes could, and should, go farther than teaching swordsmanship and monster biology. The Pre-Apprentice Program was a condensed version of the private tutoring the noble children got. Reading, writing, history, mathematics–they built the foundation a child could use to enter any number of professions. Children couldn’t be forced to be adventurers, so Theneesa used that as a loophole to help more kids.
As long as a child “intended” to be an adventurer, they could be in the program. As soon as they aged out and reached the point where a true apprenticeship would begin, they could change their minds and move on with their lives. No catch. No trap. She predicted plenty of kids would choose to stay, of course, but molding a new generation of adventurers wasn’t really the point even if that was one of the benefits of the initiative.
“We wanted to stay with Theneesa through Diamond,” Lee said absentmindedly.
Hans understood that feeling. “When this burns out, she’ll welcome you back.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I could go back to doing regular jobs after this. Won’t be able to forget the way they looked at us.”
“It’s not fair. I’m sorry.”
Lee shrugged. “How much did she share with you?”
“Nothing, really. She didn’t want to put much in writing.”
She looked out the window at a calm winter night. After a long sigh, she said, “Theneesa thinks the orcs are using blood magic.”
Quest Update: Devise a test to see if blood magic is causing nightmares in tusk children.
***
Open Quests (Ordered from Old to New):
Progress from Gold-ranked to Diamond-ranked.
Mend the rift with Devon.
Complete the manuscript for "The Next Generation: A Teaching Methodology for Training Adventurers."
Expand the Gomi training area to include ramps for footwork drills.
Refine a system for training dungeon awareness.
Research the history and legends of the Dead End Mountains, more.
Protect Gomi.
Solve the campus construction logistics problem or devise an alternative plan. Bonus Objective: Pick a secret passage cooler than a bookshelf door.
Find a partner to move dungeon loot efficiently.
Find a way to share new knowledge without putting Gomi at risk.
Address the deficiency of magery education in the Gomi chapter.
Devise a test to see if blood magic is causing nightmares in tusk children.
Design a training dungeon concept to test on the dungeon core.