Though everyone in the community work to their tails off over the next few days, Bo couldn’t help but feel the time was slipping away from him. While Slick had found enough apprentices to get to work quickly, Ms. G had a harder time finding folks with magical aptitude. It took the beleaguered gnome between fifteen minutes and an hour to assess each person, and most people didn’t have the gift. This frustrated Bo, because he knew how important it was to get the new weapons and armor enchanted. While the gnome struggled to find those with magical aptitude, Bo reviewed the cards available to her and Slick, now that the community anchor had been upgraded.
***CRAFT CARDS AVAILABLE***
Intermediate Melee Weapon
TYPE: 1H Weapon
ACTIVATE: 1S
GENERATE: 1C
POWER: 2
Cause POW Damage on a successful melee attack.
RARITY: Uncommon
Intermediate Heavy Melee Weapon
TYPE: 2H Weapon
ACTIVATE: 2S
GENERATE: 2C
POWER: 2
Cause POW Damage on a successful melee attack. Ignores 2 Points of Amor.
RARITY: Uncommon
Intermediate Missile Weapon
TYPE: 2H Missile
ACTIVATE: 1D
GENERATE: 1W
POWER: 2
Cause POW damage on a successful missile attack.
RARITY: Uncommon
Intermediate Heavy Missile
TYPE: 2H Missile
ACTIVATE: 1D, 1S
GENERATE: 2W
POWER: 2
Cause POW damage on a successful missile attack. Ignores 2 points of Armor.
RARITY: Uncommon
Intermediate Armor
TYPE: Item
ACTIVATE: 1C
GENERATE: --
POWER: 2
Reduces incoming damage by POW.
RARITY: Uncommon
Intermediate Shield
TYPE: Item
ACTIVATE: 1S
GENERATE: --
POWER: 2
Reduces incoming Damage by POW. Shield bash may stun foes.
RARITY: Uncommon
***ARCANE CARDS AVAILABLE***
Melee Weapon Enhancement
TYPE: Enchantment
ACTIVATE: 1I
GENERATE: --
POWER: 1
Add POW Strength and POW x 2 Damage to an unechanted melee weapon.
RARITY: Uncommon
Missile Enhancement
TYPE: Enchantment
ACTIVATE: 1I
GENERATE: --
POWER: 1
Add POW Dexterity and POW x 2 Damage to an unechanted missile weapon.
RARITY: Uncommon
Armor Enhancement
TYPE: Enchantment
ACTIVATE: 1W
GENERATE: --
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
POWER: 1
Add POW Constitution and POW x 2 Armor to an unechanted armor.
RARITY: Uncommon
Shield Enhancement
TYPE: Enchantment
ACTIVATE: 1W
GENERATE: --
POWER: 1
Add POW Strength and POW Armor to an unenchanted shield.
RARITY: Uncommon
***END OF NEW CARDS FOR CRAFT AND ARCANE***
Bo couldn’t believe the sheer power of enchanted armor. It would double the protection of the new intermediate armor, making it four times is powerful as the basic gear his people had now. Just as importantly, the enhancements could add Strength, Dexterity, and even Constitution to armor and weapons. That was a game changer that might just give his people the edge they’d need in fighting against trained grunge elves.
But none of that meant squat if they couldn’t find more people with magical aptitude.
Ms. G finally got a hit on the second day after Bo upgraded the community. The little gnome was very excited, because the new apprentice could also help with the assessment process. That would significantly increase the speed at which they examined prospects. Unfortunately, the first person with aptitude wasn’t happy about the situation.
“I didn’t sign up to be no bookworm,” Gertrude complained to the pitmaster. “My place is on the front line. Give me one of them spears and shields. I’ll show them stupid elves what for.”
Bo couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea of Gertrude marching to war alongside the rest of the community. While her spirit was definitely willing, the woman’s body was no longer built for the rigors of combat. A diet of mostly protein had kept Gertrude fit as could be expected for a woman her age, but it had also stripped most of the fat from her already slim frame. She was a bundle of sticks in a paper bag, and Bo couldn’t send her to the front lines in good conscience.
“I appreciate your determination to fight,” the pitmaster told her. “And you’d be an asset no matter where we put you. But I feel you’d be the biggest help working with Ms. G. We need people who can learn magic. The more of you there are, the more powerful our fighting forces become.”
Gertrude folded her arms across her sunken chest and squinted at Bo. “You can believe whatever you want, but I know what I’m meant for. I’m a fighter. Always been. I can scrap with the best of them. If you leave me stuck in the library with that little gnome, I’ll pull her head right off her shoulders. I can’t stay put like that, Bo. It’ll kill me.”
The pitmaster felt a twinge of guilt and worry over the raw emotion he heard in the old woman’s voice. Gertrude was normally calm and collected, steady as a rock, even when the entire world was coming apart around her. But she did not want to do this, and Bo couldn’t figure out why. If he forced her into a position that she’d resent, Gertrude could go from being one of his best assets to a huge liability. The pitmaster had to convince her that a position in the library was for the good of the whole community.
The pitmaster put an arm around Gertrude’s thin shoulders, and guided her away from the main hall where she’d found him after learning of her aptitude from Ms. G. Bo didn’t want to have this conversation in public, not just because he’d prefer people not see him fighting with Gertrude, but also because he wanted to give her the privacy to work through whatever issue was tormenting her. They walked together in silence, Gertrude leaning against him as they wound their way through the cavern toward Bo’s quarters.
The pitmaster’s quarters had been updated when the rest of the community advanced. Instead of a single bedroom, Bo now had a whole suite of rooms to himself. There was a sitting room—complete with a fuzzy fur rug, two comfortable chairs, a sofa, and a pair of small tables—just inside the heavy door, with archways leading from it to the kitchen on the left and his bedroom on the right. Another door from the kitchen opened onto a small storage space that Lydia assured Bo would keep food fresh indefinitely, and he had a restroom with a working magical toilet through a door in the bedroom. It was a nice spread, and gave him a place to meet with folks when he needed privacy.
“Take a seat,” Bo said to Gertrude. Then he did the same, taking the chair beside the sofa that the older woman slumped down on. “Can you tell me what’s really bothering you?”
Gertrude hesitated for a moment, her eyes downcast. She folded her hands in her lap, and the swollen knuckles of her arthritic fingers reddened angrily when they bent. She said nothing for a long time, and Bo let her sit in silence. It wasn’t his place to rattle her cage, and he knew Gertrude would be more forthcoming if he gave her space.
Finally, she cleared her throat and fixed Bo with a steely stare. “I ain’t got long,” she said quietly. “Docs told me the Red River competition was my last rodeo even before the world went straight to hell. I got a batch of cancer brewing inside me, Bo. Pretty sure it ain’t gonna get better.”
Bo had seen courage on the battlefield these past few days. He’d watched men fight and die to protect their community. He’d wiped out monsters and had been ready to take out a bunch of humans if need be. But all that had happened in the furnace of mortal violence. There’d been little time to consider what might happen to him, how badly it would hurt, or even really wonder whether he’d survive.
But Gertrude had looked the reaper in the face and watched as he slowly strode toward her from the horizon. The courage it took to look death in the eye without flinching was a hell of a lot more impressive than any battlefield heroics.
“You think picking up the spear lets you go out as a hero,” Bo said.
“I don’t give a shit about being a hero,” Gertrude replied. She cackled with that, the rough, cawing of a crow perched in a naked treetop during the heart of winter. “But I’m already going to die. Let me take the place of some young man or woman. Let me eat an arrow meant for them.”
Bo saw the logic in it. Who knew how long it would take Gertrude to learn to sling spells? She might spend months figuring out how magic worked, only to die before she could put any of that knowledge to use. It only made sense to let someone who already had one foot in the grave to meet her fate on the battlefield instead of someone who was more fit, more capable of going on for years.
The cold calculus wasn’t that simple, though. Bo reached over and put his hand on top of Gertrude’s. He was careful not to put too much pressure, because he knew how tender her aching joints could be. But he looked the old woman in the eye and hurt her much worse with a single, short shake of his head.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “I appreciate your willingness to make that sacrifice. But I have to ask you to do something harder for me.”
Tears brimmed in Gertrude’s eyes. She blinked them away and let them roll down her cheeks. The tired old woman shook her head, lips trembling, and said, “Don’t put this on me, Bo. I’m scared and tired. I’ve earned my damned rest.”
And that was the real heart of the matter. Gertrude knew what was coming. She had a thorny road of suffering ahead of her that no sane person would want to step foot on. The cancer would eat her alive. Gertrude might suffer its teeth gnawing on her insides for months. The threat of torture was enough to scare the hell out of anyone.
Bo didn’t want to put anyone through that. It would be a great mercy to let this poor old woman die on the battlefield in service to her community. But the fact was, she was the only human they had who could work magic. Bo needed his own people to learn the mystic arts. And that meant he couldn’t let Gertrude die.
“I know,” Bo said. “And you don’t have to do what I’m asking. But I need you now, Gertie. We all do. You can save a lot of lives working with Ms. G.”
The old woman bowed her head, and her tears splashed on Bo’s knuckles. The pitmaster wanted to look away. He wanted to lock his feelings way down deep where he wouldn’t have to feel their acid bite on his soul.
That was the coward’s way out, though. The pain he felt was nothing compared to what Gertrude would suffer down the road. The least he could do was share her sadness for the moment.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “But we need you, Gertrude. Will you do this for us?”
The old woman wept in silence until Bo’s fingers were soaked. Then she cleared her throat again, lifted her head, and nodded.
“It’s been a real long time since anyone needed me,” Gertrude said. “My boys are all grown and gone, with families of their own. Those boys, their wives, and their babies, probably didn’t make it when the world turned upside down. Truth be told, that’s part of what makes me want to lay down my load. But, you’re right. It ain’t time for this old lady to put out the candle just yet.”
Bo wrapped Gertrude in a hug and held her as the tears came again.
He’d known being a leader would be hard. He’d known there’d be blood and pain and rough times for all of them. But he hadn’t expected this bone-deep sadness that came along with the hard choices a leader had to make.
Or for the way the grief clung to his soul long after Gertrude had left him to report for duty in Ms. G’s library.
“This sucks,” Bo said in the silence of his quarters.
It does, Barbie agreed. I've never experienced anything like it. Can we not do this again?
Bo let out a ragged sigh and closed his eyes. “I wish. But something tells me there’s a lot more of it coming down the pike.”