Kalydren – Year 1344, Month 1, Day 6. Spring

Olea Munroe – Early Morning Interrogation

“New boy! Time to wake up!” who-the-heck-is-shouting!?

I groggily move about as I wake from my sweet dream; I could have sworn I was in my own little fantasy world, complete with magic and ninja-skills. My eyes open to take in the view of a strange warehouse, and I realize my dream wasn’t. I smile a little to myself before I remember someone had rudely woken me up, and argh, I need a mirror, if I have a moustache I will kill a god.

I peer down at my would be assailant, a very low amount of light is filtering in through the windows above, it’s not even full dawn! “What do you want?” I almost shouted.

Its Keen, what the bloody hell? He looks at me again and gestures to a small alcove, maybe a broom closet. Does he want me to follow him into the Janitor’s closet? Ick, just no, all nope. “I need to speak with you, private-like. Hurry on up.” And with message delivered he walks off, expecting me to follow him, I really hate that I want to follow him after that…

As I rise into a near crouch to descend the ladder on my right I once again take a look around, it seems that most of the smaller folks that were staying the night have already left for the day. Maybe they went off to find some food, not a bad idea, or perhaps they are attempting to collect whatever tithe this bastard Keen demands for his protection. Meh, time to go find out. Being in a secluded spot means if he does get handsy he won’t have any witnesses to me beating him with the mop. Did I want to beat him with a mop, yes, yes I did. Could I do this thing, no idea, he may also have super-powers. Right, off we go.

Reaching the floor I head on over to the alcove, double checking to make sure none of his goons are around. No cornering this girl, nope. I stand outside for a moment before I pull back the dirty curtain that is stretched across the doorway, this may really be a broom closet. Inside is just bare studs with some slate drywall to add a slight separation from the outer area. A small stool is in the corner, occupied by Keen. A dead lantern rests on a shelf with a small hammer and some rather useless looking nails. Weapon found! I grin at Keen and he looks at me, for a second I think he is about to speak and then the strangest damned look crosses his face.

He stands up suddenly, sputtering, “Are you a girl!?” He shouts, nay yells at me. I could not help myself; I punched him. He promptly fell down, holding his nose to stem the flow of blood.

“Why’d you hit me?” he asks through his obvious pain.

I stare for a little longer before I relent, “I am a girl! I was a girl when I got here last night, I have been a girl for a very long time, is there a problem with my being a girl!?” I run my hands along the sides of my shirt, slim barely discernable curves along my hip to my shoulders, subtly shift my arm across to touch my opposite shoulder to get a sense of my chestiness without looking under my shirt, no reason make it seem as if he made a justifiable mistake. Breast are there, though I guess I was close to a B-cup now, no longer a C, goodbye back problems and poor balance issues. Did this mean I was younger now, how young? I really hope I’m not twelve again, I liked being of an appropriate age! Waiting through puberty to be with the people I choose to be with will make me angry, wait sudden anger, no, no, nope. Not thinking about it, need a mirror.

“Listen, Keen. You need to stop fidgeting, it’s just a little blood, you’ll be fine. I am sure your nose is barely broken.” I hoped so anyway, not a doctor. I sort of am now? “Actually Keen, stand up, right there. Hop to it, we don’t have all day.”

He looked at me then, as he stood I swear he was almost cowering, I am not scary! Maybe he is afraid of girls, could explain the outburst. “Are you going to hurt me again?”

“No,” I reply, “I won’t hurt you, though I could change my mind any time now. Stay still.” Now how does this work, what was it the spell was called, ah yes!

Cure Wounds: This spell at its base proficiency can heal minor wounds, referred to by the priests as ‘cure light’ it will not remove poison, curses, or blindness and is limited to minor healing. Multiple casts have an accumulative effect.

I guess I need to touch him, or at least get closer, I step forward and grab his honker with my right hand, using my left arm to wrestle his head down in a basic hold, can’t be too careful.

“Ow, ow, ow, Stop!! Please!” Keen whines, why was he so tough before, thinking I was a boy, if I were I’d have probably knocked him out with that punch.

Concentrating on my skill, or spell rather, I focus my thoughts on the wound I want to heal, not east with Keen crying and trying to free himself from the headlock. As I was reaching the point of ‘Oh boy this is awkward’ it clicked and I felt a small flow of something leaving the core of my being, my center, I know it sounds stupid but there it was, unknown source of something moving around and then I got a read on it as the energy reached my arm and flowed along my skin to envelop the hand gripping at Keen big bloody nose, I say this but it was a rather small nose, maybe someone else had flattened it before I did. Anyway! The spell finished flowing and so did his nose, not enough, though Keen did let out a sort of startled yelp when the magic let go of my hand. Accumulative effect, yep let’s channel this sucker! I concentrated again, letting the spell swell up from wherever it was, it moved again along my arm flowing outward as it reached my wrist enveloping my hand in a steady glow of blue light, I could see it this time, more potent magic was more visible maybe. Something for later. Poof, the bleeding stopped, though he was still a right mess. I let go of the poor kid then, no need to torment him, I do not want him to wet himself. Not on me at least, no golden showers, thank you very much, nope.

Keen just kind of stood there afterward, did I break another toy? Just as I was about to slap him, maybe knock something loose, he spoke, “Was that magic? You can do magic, you healed me. Why break my nose and then heal me? This doesn’t make sense.” I stood there waiting for him to recover and be done, “Why were the guards chasing a girl, did Lenny know you were a girl?! I was not told about this.” He really was going to just talk to himself here. “Start talking, Olea, gah a name like that, I thought it was Ollie but was just playing it up, it even sounds girly. Gross”

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“Are you done yet,” I demanded, “Day is wasting out there. I broke your nose for calling me a boy, again. I healed you because I could and I hated watching you cry, and bleed everywhere, two bad things. Leaking in general is bad when other people are watching, bad manners, Keen.” I admonished. I couldn’t say that I wasn’t entirely sure it would work, and only healed him for the sake of science, that would make me the rude one.

“Now, why would you care if I were a girl, also what the hell did you wake me up for? I like my sleepy time.” I grumbled to the boy. I take a few moments to check him over while he fixes his stool and reassembles his tough boy façade. He seems to be around five foot four, my scale is probably off being that I seem to have shrunk from my previous five foot seven. His hair is an unruly mess, knotted and dirty, it may be closer to a golden blonde if he ever bathes. Blue-green eyes look at me cautiously from under his unkempt bangs, I really have no idea why he would not be more trusting. Really. He seems to be a little less frail than the children I saw last night, sporting a pair of loose trousers, a too tight shirt the color of pale dust, not quite tan. They need a good wash. Wow, am I quite the judge today. Bah.

“I woke you up so the place could be empty before noon.” He states while looking at me, I look back confused.

“Why does the place need to be empty?” I ask aloud.

“We move about, not always staying in the same place, this place we use in the winter, cause of the fact that its empty,” he continues, a little more sure as I gave up being superior the moment I started to look ignorant, ”It’s spring now, so the merchant that normally houses goods here during the summer and fall will be moving things shortly after his goods arrive from the docks.”

“So, you jump ship before they come sniffing around to avoid being caught trespassing?” I ask of my now very talkative friend. Oh, my clever Dodger.

“That’s right, the others will be scouting for a different place to stay during the night when we lose the warehouse,” he continues “also you had best be careful out there, the city isn’t the safest place for cute unchaperoned girls, Id have been quieter if I knew. Girls go missing a lot, the girls that have slept on the streets at night usually disappear or get taken. It’s not safe, I rather you do not come back just so as no one that makes people disappear shows up here. Although…” he hesitates, “if you come back tonight, if you can scrounge or pick up some things to maybe help out with the kids, I would be thankful.”

“What happened to the or else speech about taxes,” I ask, almost chuckling “you said a few things that contradict this little talk, also why are you so talkative now, I was chum last night.”

Keen looks a little sheepish at this comment, it could be the dried blood smeared across his face, not my fault, “I have to look strong in front of the bigger kids, some of the boys get physical more easily than the others, it scares the little ones. I have to sound meaner, at least when the audience is around, each of those little waifs is my responsibility after Luke left, I put on a show and let the others think they get special treatment for following orders.” He takes a moment to study me from under his hair does he not know I can totally see him, it’s not that dark in here!

“So the tough kid act, was an act?” I hazard a guess at the obvious, must humor the kid. Though I think he may just be my age, my real age, malnutrition does funny things to people.

“Aye, it was.” He answers quickly, “Can I ask where you learned magic? Are you a runaway from the church orphanage or maybe one of those fancy schools?”

I grin at the lad, “I learned it last night,” his eyes go kind of funny, “right before I went to sleep, actually.”

“Is that why you were getting chase by the guard,” he ask alarmed “Did you steal a spell scroll from the captain of the guard?” His eyes begin darting about, he goes so far as to peer around the corner of the curtain checking the rest of the warehouse.

“Spell scrolls, no, no, I picked up the skill for Cure Wounds last night.” I supply the kid with some information, “Don’t you have skills, spells?” I needed to figure out the limitations of this system soon. Should I be mentioning my skills or even using my spells so openly outside. Told that voice no spoilers, but maybe I should have been a little nicer, more appreciative. Nah.

“I – I have some skills, I inherited Combat and Block from my folks,” Keen retorts, “Not many people have healing magic outside of adventurers and traveling merchants, unless they are in the guard or worked with the militia.”

“Can’t you just use skill points to get healing magic though?” I ask, honestly curious.

“I’m level one, I have no skill points.” Keen continues, “Most people don’t spend skill points on things that don’t help them advance in everyday life, it’s dangerous to go out and fight the monsters and such for experience.”

“You don’t just have skill point when you are born?” I ask without hesitation, this is strange I had five, “I mean, I used five skill points last night, and how much experience do you need to level, isn’t it only one thousand?”

He just looks at me then, I think I’ve lost all of my big kid clout for being dense. “You had five!? I don’t know how that is possible, what level are you?” He seems indignant as he near shouts again, “And I need three thousand experience to level up, you should know this, one thousand for the level you are, plus one thousand for level you are going to be. Wait, what did you need for level?”

So, the math would be one thousand multiplied by current level plus next level, would that mean I am level zero? I mean I have one thousand XP till the next level, I can’t see my level, does that mean, well crud. I need to go grinding, maybe hit a local library. Is all this common sense, not even worth talking about as an adult, like would it be just things kids include in their ‘When I grow up I want to be’ discussions with other kids?

I return from my inner algebra, “One thousand, that’s what I need. I think I am level zero.” I shake my head, overshare.

“What? Argh, how did you have five skill points, no one that many before level five, I have never heard of anyone getting more than one per level until level five, you are weird.” He says all this in a nonstop stream of words, is breathing optional?

I look at him then, “Well, I had five, now I don’t. I guess that makes me normal now.” I grin a little bit, showing teeth, “Do you know where someone can get a weapon around here, I think I need a knife.” I will have to ask around subtly and get more information from other sources, no need for Keen to know the limits of my knowledge, I may seem clueless now but I would rather not confirm it for him.

“A knife, I cannot say I know anywhere you can get one, at least not without some copper, maybe silver if you need a good one.” He taps his dirty chin in thought unless he just had an itch. “I would say to try running errands unless you think you could sneak one from the butchers shop, or one of the stalls, just don’t get caught stealing.”

“They chop off your hand for stealing here?” I inquire innocently.

“They throw you in lockup and then you do menial labor for six months to repay the debt to society, longer if you get caught stealing something expensive.” He says this in a whisper as if speaking of punishment can be punished.

“Well, that sounds pleasant,” I answer back, “I guess I will try to stay circumspect in my acquisition.” Look right there, I can try sounding smart to earn back some big kid points.

Keen huffs at my comment, an actual huff. I must have lost some points somehow. “Listen, I have to leave now, remember what I said: be careful, don’t get caught, don’t run here if you get caught, and please don’t punch me again.” He ducks out from under the curtain apparently, we were done talking.

Whatever. I need to go find a knife, get some intel on monsters, maybe get outside of this little city, and check the countryside. I’ll go hunt some jackalopes! Horned bunnies might be a thing, wolves would probably eat me. Argh, the life of a murder-hobo.