We found Instructor Falaise in her office. It was a little cubbyhole upstairs from our normal training area. I knocked on the frame of the door and she looked up from some paperwork. “Hello Mike, Izzy. What brings you up here?”

“Is it possible for us to create our own spells?” Izzy blurted out.

The instructor grinned. “It is. The process is a bit different for each of your traditions, though.”

Izzy went into the room and sat down on one of the overstuffed chairs facing the instructor’s desk. Kind of surprised, I walked in and sat down as well. The chair creaked alarmingly under my weight.

“So, Mike, you have a couple of options. Most commonly, you can do what’s called stretching a spell. That’s when you take an existing spell you’re capable of casting and raise its level. For example, Oh my God Izzy, have you seen the way he throws his snowball like it’s a bowling ball?” The instructor collapsed in giggles.

“Oh, come on, it isn’t that funny.” I protested.

“It’s pretty funny.” Falaise grinned. “He gets up in the stance and does the walk up and everything.”

“Wait, how do you know about bowling?” I asked.

“I’ve been to your world. I was part of Dr. Mingelt’s research team.” She had a cat who ate the canary grin. “Let me tell you, it’s tough to bowl at my height too. They NEVER have shoes small enough to fit.”

Picturing the 3 foot tall sea elf bowling had me chuckling. Of course, she would be about twice as tall as a pitcher of beer, which provided badly needed lubricant to most of my bowling experiences.

“Anyway, taking your snowball spell. Maybe you want to shift it so it gets a trip effect or something. That is reasonable as a first order spell. So you take the runic writing and try to add in those effects. It’s a lot of trial and error. Once you get it right, you can add it to your spell book.” The instructor talked with her hands when she was really into a topic. It was a bit distracting to watch.

“Now you,” Falaise said, pointing to Izzy. “The process is totally different for you. You have to write a litany for the spell you want. Something like a hymn. Then dedicate it to your goddess. She’ll accept it or not.”

“Wait, that’s it?” I stood. “Just ‘Hey diddle diddle make thorns fly over there’ and she’s good?”

“Ha, not at all.” The instructor shook her head slowly. “It can take ages for the approval process to happen. There’s no schedule, especially for lower level priests. Each time the hymn gets rejected you have to redo it and you never know what parts were wrong or right. It’s much more of a crapshoot for divine casters than arcane.”

“Ah, well. That seems more fair.” I crossed my arms.

“I’m glad the fundamental way the world works seems fair to you.” She said with a smile. “Okay, if that answers your question, then shoo!” She made a brushing away gesture with her hands. “I have paperwork to do.”

We said our goodbyes and left. “That’s pretty cool.” I told Izzy.

“I wonder how hard it actually is?” The sea elf seemed lost in thought. “I mean, getting a spell approved. The few litanies I know are hard core sucking up. It seems like you could just write something like that?”

“How do you mean sucking up?” I asked her.

“Okay, I’ll use that pheromonal healing spell as an example.” She stopped in the hall, facing me. “I’m having to translate this so it’ll be rough. The words are something like, “Great mother of the forests hear my cry. In your infinite wisdom, please allow my musk glands to increase. Lo that the scent shall travel through the air and may those who live in your wisdom and smell of the musk be healed. This is surely within your power to grant, may it please the great mother and increase your following among the mortals.”

“Wow, that’s what you have to say?” My eyebrows were way high on my forehead.

“Pretty close. It’s sort of like reading The Bible in Latin though. It doesn’t quite translate directly to our modern tongue.” Izzy shrugged.

“Huh, I guess it makes sense in a I’m in the body of a dwarf so logic is out the window sort of way.” I told her and continued walking.

We walked downstairs chatting and entered the training room. There, we saw our entire platoon drawn up doing martial arts drills.

“Mike, Izzy. So kind of you to join us.” Drill Sergeant boomed in his normal too loud for inside voice. “Why don’t you warm up by running the curtain wall, then rejoin the rest of the class?”

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Ugh, running. Every dwarf’s nightmare. “Yes, Drill Sergeant!” we both yelled and jogged out the door. We ran the perimeter of the castle. Well, not so much ran. Izzy gave out about a quarter of the way around. Having a Brawn score of 1 was a major downer when it came to motivational exercise.

We finally made it back to the training room. Izzy was half collapsed and I’d virtually carried her the last quarter lap. At 5 my brawn was slightly above average but not quite up to carrying a sea elf.

We both gasped and wheezed our way back into the class. The other trainees all swapped training partners then, so I picked up Jackson. We both took our initial stances.

“You look rough, dude.” Jackson told me.

“Just ran the circuit of the whole castle.” I wheezed. He punched me in the head. I missed the block.

Trying to center myself, I took the basic stance to volcano strider. “You know, in my last run through the training dungeon, I realized this is a shield stance.” I told the human. “The left arm acts like it would if you used a shield.”

“Really?” He punched for my shoulder and I blocked it. I kicked at him, with my short dwarven legs a kick had about the same range as a human’s elbow strike. It hit his shin.

Jackson went down. “Dammit dude, did ya have to kick me so hard?”

“Mr. Lee, this is combat training, not dance class. Get up.” Bidlack loomed over him. “You’re higher priority to combat. There’s no excuse for him hitting you.”

Jackson got up. “Yes, Drill Sergeant!” and took his stance.

“Trainees!” Drill Sergeant boomed. “We shall instruct you in ranges of hand to hand combat. Please follow my demonstrators.” He motioned to the side and Instructors Goldo and Stethyr were standing at attention.

“The concept in martial arts uses Gates as the phrase. A zero gate attack is ultra close range. Demonstrators, move.” Goldo did a head butt and knee strike. Stethyr didn’t move.”

“Instructor Stethyr, why did you not demonstrate a zero gate attack?” Drill Sergeant asked loudly.

“Midnisss do not have a primary zero gate attack.” He hissed. “We have attacks that can be effective at the zero gate, but aren’t ideal. These attacks are the bite…” His fangs sprang out and his long neck folded nearly in half to menace the area around his chest. “the elbow” his long, slim arms bent double and he hit with an elbow. “Or the tail.” His serpentine tail lashed around in front, cracking like a whip. Lots of the trainees jumped when they heard that sound. A few glared at Niobe, who watched stoically.

“So Instructor Goldo, you have several zero gate attacks and Instructor Stethyr, you do not. Trainees, what does this mean?” Bidlack asked. There were a few murmurs, but no one committed to an answer. “None of you dumb asses knows?” Silence.

“Instructor Goldo, what does this mean to you?” Drill Sergeant asked.

“It means to have hand to hand success against a Midniss my odds are better if I’m at zero gate.” Goldo said loudly.

“Demonstrators, first gate attack. Move!” Drill Sergeant ordered.

Instructor Goldo snapped out a side kick. Instructor Stethyr did a bite move and a punch.

“Notice trainees, both are effective at first gate attacks.” Bidlack said. “Demonstrators, second gate. Move!”

Instructor Goldo punched. Instructor Stethyr slashed with his foot talons.

“Who here believes they have third gate attacks?” Drill Sergeant asked. There was a long pause. “Well, don’t all of you answer at once.” The sound of clattering from the kitchen was the only sound. He sighed. “The kick of a plains elf or the punch of an ogre are third gate attacks. The nature of combat is to move the struggle to where you are most effective and your opponent is not.”

“Benjamin, Mike. Get up here.” Bidlack roared. I ran up to the front. Benjamin, the lone plains elf in our platoon, was already there when I arrived.

“Trainees, I’d like you to spar. Fight to a knockout or five minutes. Whichever comes first.” Drill Sergeant told us.

Five minutes is a powerful long time in a fight. We bowed to each other and took up our stances. Plains Elves are tall. Benjamin was around seven and a half feet tall. I was slightly over four foot. Elves are also extremely light for their size. He probably weight a shade under two hundred pounds. I tipped the scales at right around four hundred.

He took a boxing stance, legs slightly more than shoulder width apart. Weight on the balls of the feet. I took the volcano strider base stance. Left arm angled down over the torso, right hand at waist. Legs slightly less than shoulder width apart and knees bent just a bit. My feet were flat and bore my weight evenly.

He punched me. Elves get a bonus to Agility where I got a minus. I got a big bonus to brawn though. I’d hit much harder. He punched me in the face again, cracking his knuckles on my cheekbone.

“Mike took Dwarven Immunities as his initial talent. That brings extra hit points as well as half damage from bludgeoning weapons. If Benjamin is going to punch him unconscious we’ll be here all day.” Bidlack told the platoon.

I punched at the elf. He moved smoothly to the side and hit me twice. I swung again, missed. He busted my lip this time.

“Benjamin took Elven Dodge as his initial talent. That means Mike will have a hard time hitting him.” Bidlack sounded like he was reading as he said that. I swung again, missed. He tapped me twice, once on the chin. I felt that one.

“The elf fighting the dwarf uses dozens of hits to wear down his opponent.” Drill Sergeant said. I swung again and missed again. This was getting frustrating. He swung at me and missed. He kicked me, that long leg unfurling. Hmm, that was slow. Something to watch for.

I faked a punch and he dodged, then swung the other arm. I got a little bit of a hit on his pelvis, the outside of his left leg. I promise he felt that one.

He hit me again, then twice more, swinging in a combination. I swung and missed. He kicked me. I caught the leg and grinned, quartz teeth gleaming through the blood on them.

I hit him in the hamstring of that right leg, then pulled him close. I got a great shot on his belly. The wind blew out of him and he nearly fell. I wasn’t letting go of that leg.

“Trainees, go back to your squads.” Bidlack said. We stopped, both breathing hard, and bowed to one another before running back to our positions. “You notice once Mike had Benjamin’s leg it was over, right?” The class assented. “The dwarf is looking for that one blow.”

Bidlack stalked forward like a panther. “Find the style of combat that fits you and master it. Excel at it. Fit the style to your race and priority selections. Then choose weapons, spells, skills and equipment to complement it. Your enemy is training. Did you get better today?” He yelled.