After Riva’s initial wave of selling had passed, some of the farmers of Tuften changed their demeanor once more. Understanding that these new travelers had no intention of bringing them harm or making life worse for them, the farmers now sought their help.
One of the townsfolk, a Feliome man who looked about 40 years of age, grabbed the attention of Riva. Azim looked over at the farmer who had pulled Riva aside and took note of his odd characteristics. The man had ears like that of a calico cat sprouting from the top of his head in place of human ears, and his eyes were sharp with vertical irises. He wore denim overalls with a faded blue hue, which revealed orange and white fur along his arms and chest, in place of normal human body hair. The man’s hands were still human-like, as were his legs, but sprouting from the back of his overalls was a thin, orange and white tail flickering in the air. He wore no shoes, revealing human-like feet with fur similar to that of his arms. Looking around, the robot realized most of the other, if not all, of the farmers were not wearing shoes either.
The farmer introduced himself as Warner, who Riva explained to Azim was a feliome, and informed the two travelers of a problem the town was dealing with even before the raiders had showed up. He walked them over to the edge of town, explaining to them the situation as he did. Evidently, the raiders had come through Tuften looking for goods and trouble. The town was not able to provide much of the former, so they were met with much of the latter in response. What little goods they had had been pillaged by those ruffians, and a trail of damage and terror had been left behind in their wake.
Arriving at a large field, Warner showed to Azim and Riva a colony of strange creatures. “These are our Bonfurtles,” Warner showcased.
Bonfurtles were remarked animals, often farmed by small and large towns alike, though they were rarely found in the wild. Riva had seen them before, one or two of the past few times she had been to the town. She didn’t usually stay and visit long, so she did not see them every time, but when she had she was amazed. The creatures were large tortoise-like animals with ashy, gray skin, about the size of small sheep. They had sleepy-eyed faces with plenty of wrinkles and snapping, beak-like mouths. The most extraordinary part, however, was their shells. The shell of a bonfurtle looked like a fire pit sitting atop a large block of night black charcoal, the rim of which was laid with coals and bits of ash. In the center of these “shells” was an array of kindling and logs which was set ablaze, displaying a large flame feeding off the backs of these creatures. Effectively, bonfurtles were natural, and portable, campfires, and grew their own firewood, coals, and charcoal to fuel their living flames.
At least, this was the sight someone was supposed to see upon laying eyes on one. However, when Riva looked across the 20 or 30 bonfurtles in the large pen, all she saw were the large, black rocks of the tortoise’s shells. No limbs were sticking out of any of the charcoal shells, and even more bewilderingly, the fire pits above the shells were empty. Not only were there no fires anywhere, but none of the bonfurtles had any firewood resting in their fire pits. It almost looked like a cemetery, filled with all black gravestones. “What… happened?” asked Riva, concerned.
“We don’t know,” the farmer replied, distraught. “They’ve been like this for a couple days now. We haven’t really been sure what to do. When those raiders came through our town, they were asking for our valuables and whatnot, but we didn’t know what to offer them. The bonfurtles are what we have that’s valuable. They’re all we have. They’re all we farm, how he keep our town afloat, everything. With them like this, we didn’t know what to do, what to say. It was terrible. They… were terrible.”
Riva tried to give the farmer something to find encouraging. “Well, you don’t have to worry about them anymore. Isn’t that right, Azim, dear?”
“That is correct,” replied the metal man blankly. “They will not be coming back, so you need not worry for the safety of your town.”
Warner brightened up just the slightest bit. “Well, I suppose that’s good news. Now if we could just take care of our poor animals.”
Riva asked the farmer if he had tried any magic to improve the health of the creatures, such as some kind of fire spell to light them up again. Warner informed them that while he did not know of any serious fire magic, save for the elementary Illuminate and Fireproof spell, one of the other farmers had tried some kind of fire starter spell, and it had been unsuccessful. According to him, a few farmers had even made a trek out yesterday for some potential firewood that he could give to the bonfurtles, but setting them on the backs of the creatures did nothing. Even when that other farmer lit the wood himself to get the fire going artificially, the tortoise-like creature did not emerge from its shell, and the fire simply died out about an hour later.
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Listening to everything the feliome had said, Azim walked over to the pen without so much as a response and hopped over the small fence. Warner beckoned him to wait, to which the android turned back. Warner insisted that if the stranger was going to try and help, he would want to protect himself in case he succeeded. The farmer reminded the stranger to cast a Fireproof spell on himself so that, in the event that the health of the bonfurtles improved, he was not taken aback by the sudden influx of heat.
Azim stunned the man when he asked what the farmer wanted him to do. Fumbling to find an answer to the question, he eventually found his words. In a reminding tone, he explained that Fireproof was an incredibly basic spell, at least at low heat resistance, and could be learned even at a very low magic level. 1 or 2, he couldn’t remember which. Nevertheless, if the stranger had even an ounce of magic in him at all, he should have been able to use a very low-level Fireproof spell.
Placing one hand over the other, making an almost-arrowhead shape, Warner put his hands to his chest and closed his eyes, before incanting, “Fireproof”.
An orange seal wrapped his entire body for just a moment, and a moment later it was gone. “See?” the middle-aged feliome suggested. “Just like that. And then you’re good for the next 30 minutes. Well, I am, I don’t know how long yours will last.”
The robot mimicked the farmer’s moments exactly as he had seen them. He placed his hands over one another, making the same arrowhead shape, and paced them on his borrowed blouse, pressing against his armored chest. The orange in his face slowly dimmed and went out as the android “closed his eyes”. Systematically, there was no real change in his awareness. Azim could either be “on” and conscious, or “powered down” and rested. Even if he turned down the lights in his face or even completely off for a moment, he was just as awake and aware as if they were on. However, for the sake of the experiment, the android figured he would play along with the ritualistic practices of what the farmer had done.
“Fireproof”, Azim spoke in a monotone.
While Riva wasn’t entirely surprised, she and Warner watched as nothing happened following the robot’s incantation. The farmer, however, was shocked. He started bumbling, wondering how the spell could not work. Even if it was someone’s first time using the spell, it was elementary enough that just knowing what the spell and hand sign were should have enough knowledge of it for someone to cast it. The farmer wasn’t exactly sure what all of this meant because, and he would admit to this if asked, he knew next to nothing about magicraft or even magic levels in general. Regardless, this was a strange sight to see.
“It appears as though nothing happened,” Azim stated. “I apologize.”
“Well, you don’t need to be sorry, son, but that sure is strange,” Warner responded, still a little bit dumbfounded. “I don’t know what you’re going to do then. If you do figure out what’s wrong with them and they light back up, you might be in trouble without cover.”
The android brushed off the worry, explaining, “I believe I will be all right dealing with these creatures, without the need for any resistance-improving magic. My body is naturally fire-resistant. As long as the embers of your bonfurtles do not make direct contact with my body, I should be all right.”
Azim approached one of the large charcoals and examined it. He noticed the five holes on the underside of the shell from which the limbs of the animal would stick out. The robot squatted and stared at the empty fire pit that lay across the pitch-black block. He listened intensely, heightening his auditory processors to pick up on any subtleties in the air. After a few seconds, his head perked up slightly. The robot extended both arms and grabbed the charcoal shell by both ends, standing up and carrying it with him as he did.
“Wow, he’s… really strong,” Warner mumbled to Riva, before turning and yelling over to Azim. “But what are you doing?!”
Ignoring the farmer for now, Azim started shaking the large block of charcoal, loose ash from the empty fire pit spraying everywhere in his vicinity. Warner watched as the stranger rattled one of his animals, noticing that despite the wildness of the situation, the control that the metal man had was surprising. His shakes were in tight, contained motions rather than random swings in every direction, as if he was vibrating the shell more than actually shaking it. Warner started toward the fence, preparing to climb over it and stop the stranger, but Riva gently grabbed ahold of his arm. “Just give him a moment,” she urged. “I think he has a serious idea.”
A few moments later, a long gray neck sprung out of one of the five holes, revealing the sleepy-eyes head of a bonfurtle. Warner gasped at the sight, while Riva simply smiled. What a strange fellow, she thought to herself, and yet how happy I am to have met him.
With the head popping out, Azim noticed something at the base of the tortoise’s wrinkly neck. A tan, slightly opaque, slug-looking thing, about 2 inches long. Setting the bonfurtle’s shell down, the robot took one hand and held the animal’s neck back so he could get a better look at the strange thing. Picking it off of the bonfurtle’s neck, the thing appeared to be some sort of leech, one that had been sucking on the creature’s neck and leaving it ill. Once the leech had been removed, the bonfurtle’s legs slowly started to crawl out of its shell as well, until all of its limbs were fully visible, and it was standing on its own. Azim looked down to see small shavings of kindling merging from the ashy center of the shell’s fire pit, and the gray of the ashes slowly starting to turn orange.
Azim returned to the other two and showed them what he had removed from the tortoise-like creature. Disgusted, Warner explained to Azim and Riva that what the robot had found was a Heat Leech. A gross vermin that sapped the heat from living sources that produced a lot of heat, hence why it was stuck to the bonfurtle. Looking across the pen at the rest of the shells, the farmer figured that must have been what was going on with the rest of them. “Well…” he began. “Looks like we got some work to do.”