Tenthé was bored and frustrated.
He had been at the College for a few weeks now and his life had fallen into a rut.
The Magisters discovered that if they petitioned their personal deities, they could gain access to the hidden part of the temple district without Tenthé’s help, allowing the combat classes to get some real experience. Visiting with the old gods had been restricted to individuals firmly committed to the Turtle, which helped control the temptations the old gods kept tossing at the researchers. Magister Manuel-with-no-last-name was deliriously happy; he was writing his opus. Reports were that it was already so big that two people couldn’t lift it.
Tenthé was sure that someone would screw up at some point and something bad would happen, but it wasn’t his job, at least, not yet.
His classes had become routine. History was a mixture of memorizing the family relationships and staying awake, which the boys in the dorm assured him was normal. He was finding out a lot about the first families and the next term was going to cover how the City came into existence, but for now, there was just a long list of begats.
Physics was okay. He wasn’t really learning any new spells, but was discovering how they were all related, which ones were reliable, and which ones might end poorly. This was solid information, and he liked that.
In Tactics, he and Magister Graf had settled into a period of détente, which was a word he’d just learned. When he quit trying to manipulate Tenthé, Magister Graf taught a decent class. At the moment, they were looking at the process of organizing resources for a big battle. Tenthé had been in battles, but mostly fighting, not the organizing part. It involved a lot of writing and calculating; he couldn’t imagine when he’d ever be able to do that very well, but he could appreciate the effort and understood how difficult planning was, especially when you included contingencies.
The Magister would set up complex scenarios on a magical landscape, then split the class into two or more sides who had to come up with an operational plan, and, at the same time, spy on the others and disrupt their schemes.
Tenthé wasn’t very good at the planning, but he excelled at spying and disruption, coming up with unconventional, yet effective, ways to foil their opponent’s plans. After a particularly devious ploy, Magister Graf had asked him to co-author a book on sabotage. After he finished laughing, Bear commented that only at the College could a complete illiterate be an author.
Mystic Studies remained weird. Both he and Bear wondered how it was possible to learn about something that had no rules. Undaunted, Magister Grenville continued having the class meditate, then comb through the results to look for trends.
Initially, no-one knew what to do, but help came from a strange source. Tactics taught methods for going through reports to find what was real and what was misinformation. By using these ideas in Mystical Studies, they uncovered the occasional tidbit that looked to be more than a typical random occurrence.
Often these were things like everyone preferred chocolate, and up was high, but a few were strange. There were a lot of thoughts about getting away from the City, more than the Magister had ever seen in previous years.
In addition to this, Tenthé was having visions. First, just in class, but more recently, even when he slept. A few were like the one he’d had about the Guard, Turtle, and mystery god, but more often he saw ones where he had to make a choice and whatever he chose was wrong.
He tried to discuss it with Magister Grenville, but she said she didn’t know either. It was Tenthé’s feeling that she wasn’t being entirely honest with him.
Dang it, though! Everything was getting to be so complex, and yet… boring.
Tenthé had decided that it was time for a break. Being Threesday, he had blown off classes and was currently heading for the temple district to work off some tension. To his surprise, Nikolaus, Isabell, and George had joined him.
For him, this was quite odd. He’d worked and trained with others, even been in an army, but he hadn’t ever had friends like this before. It was both good and bad.
Nikolaus had seen him walking toward the back exit and had asked where he was going. As they were talking, George and Isabell stopped to listen. When he finally admitted that he was taking a break, they invited themselves along. The good part was that all of them had been spending Sixdays in the lower levels of the College and were a lot better than they had been. The bad was that by his standards, they were barely acceptable and not well rounded. His biggest observation was that they were either strong in offence and weak in defense, or vice versa. Isabell was the best. She was fairly good with her sword and could alternate between using her scream for offence or defense, but, she had to figure out how to do both things at once.
Nicolaus was okay too. Most of the rest of his dorm mates were much worse, including George, but of all of them, Tenthé liked George the most. Isabell and Nicolaus could be a little pushy, but George was easygoing.
So, when they invited themselves along, he decided it was okay. He’d even help them out, a little.
Tenthé broke away from his ruminations as they approached the wall separating the old temples from the new.
“From here on,” he announced, “You’ll have to be on your guard. I want to stop and get George some armor, and after we do that, we’ll be going somewhere more interesting. I have a plan, but if you’re not sure, tell me now.”
“Armor?” Isabell asked. “He’s just a vassal. No way! Even my family could barely afford what I have, and it was an heirloom that had to be altered to fit me.”
“Oh, I know a place,” Tenthé replied. “Good stuff, even if it is old.”
“Are you sure?” Isabell replied. “The City’s been pretty well picked over, generations ago. If you’re right, it’d be worth a fortune!”
“I guess. You’ll see.”
The moment they passed through the wall, a specter appeared. Tenthé was gratified to see that no-one broke and ran. They fell into a defensive formation and watched the specter swoop back and forth. Nikolaus had pulled a thin dueling sword, Isabell wielded two larger and more practical swords, and George, a cudgel. Nikolaus and Isabell also manifested their armor. Tenthé had already seen Isabell’s, but Nikolaus’ was similar: old, but reasonably decent.
When it became obvious that the specter was all show, everyone followed Tenthé down a narrow street, keeping a watch for other threats. Even though his friends were still prone to the jitters, all in all, Tenthé was fairly happy with how they handled themselves. Only once did Nikolaus shoot a fireball at a threatening shadow. Everyone paused to look.
“Well… that planter isn’t a danger to anyone anymore,” Isabell noted wryly. Both she and George continued to harass Nikolaus, especially when they came upon other planters lurking in the shadows.
Tenthé led them across a street and down an alley to the nondescript remains of another temple. He hadn’t mentioned the two skeletons he’d disabled along the way. Perhaps he should have, but he had somewhere to be and didn’t want to deal with low-level stuff at the moment. He wondered if that was the right thing to do. According to Tactics, he wouldn’t make a very good leader, but sometimes you weren’t offered a choice. At least, this time, it wasn’t because everyone else who could take command was dead.
Magister Graf had said that he’d get better when he got older. Tenthé was fairly sure that wouldn’t happen anytime soon. Either of those things, better or older.
As they approached his destination, he cautioned the others to be careful and keep watch.
“We’ll be going into a place with lots of traps,” he advised. “Let me check everything out before you go follow. Here’s why,” and he pulled a rat out of a Pocket. After waiting a moment for it to wake up, he tossed it toward the temple door.
There was a massive flash of light as an explosion blew the paving stones upward, then waist high spikes shot up out of the ground. Shortly afterward, the stones fell back onto the spikes. Dust billowed out, and a few errant pebbles pelted the group. Of the rat, there was no sign.
Unlike Isabell and Nikolaus, George hadn’t jumped when the trap went off. Instead, he stood with a puzzled look on his face.
“How the heck was that supposed to work?” he asked. “Anyone stepping there would be blown upward, but when they came down, the pavers would shield them from the spikes. That’s stupid.”
“Huh,” Tenthé grunted. “Guess you’re right. Never thought about it.”
Once the dust settled, he disabled another trap and everyone filed in. As usual, it was gloomy, but the walls had a few holes to let in some light. Tenthé walked over to one side of the temple and made some gestures at the wall. When nothing happened, he kicked the wall and a small crack appeared. He stuck his fingers into it and pulled, which caused a small piece to break off. He tried again at a lower spot, with the same result.
After watching him struggle for a moment, the others came over and found that by working together, they could pull without breaking off bits. Everyone heaved and a section of the wall swung open, revealing a dark space. Isabell generated a floating light and sent it ahead, where it drifted up to the ceiling and bobbled around, illuminating much of a large room packed with racks of weapons, shields, and armor.
Everyone, except Tenthé, gasped.
“If even a fraction of this is enspelled, we’re all rich.” Nicolaus said breathlessly. “But even if it isn’t, we could still unload this for a pretty good amount.”
“Whatever,” Tenthé replied, truly not caring. “What I’m looking for is around here somewhere. See what you can find.”
Showing that he had listened, George asked if there were any traps. Tenthé did a scan and disabled one small web flinger, then told them it was okay to enter.
The boys immediately ran inside.
Isabell mused, “You know, it would be handy if you could teach me and the others how to find traps. Without you, we’d be in trouble.”
“I guess. But according to the College, how I do it isn’t supposed to be possible.”
“Let’s work on it. There have to be ways that us ordinary people can master.”
“I’m an ordinary people.”
“Uh… no. You’re not.”
“Hey, I’m just me.”
“Yeah. That’s what I said.”
The boys were trying on various pieces of armor. While they rooted through the piles and shelves, Isabell went over to the swords and began examining them.
Tenthé watched for a while, then walked up to George, who was staggering around in a breastplate that had to weigh as much as he did. Tenthé wasn’t sure how he’d even managed to get it on.
“Nothing could ever hurt me through this,” George wheezed.
Tenthé took out one of his little knives and poked it through the armor.
“Ow! How did you do that? This is solid steel!”
“Magic. Big isn’t always better.”
He put his knife away. To George, it just seemed to disappear.
“Yeah. I suppose. And it is a bit heavy.” He struggled to lift it over his head, then bent over forward until the breastplate fell off and clattered to the floor.
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In a similar vein, Nikolaus was trying to pick up one of the massive kite shields, without much success. Isabell was being the most practical, swinging various swords to evaluate their balance and weight.
Tenthé called everyone over.
“We’ll be in some tight quarters,” he informed them. “It’s best if you’re equipped with a short sword, or a hammer, or something like that. What George needs is light armor with magical buffering, like what you guys have. And, it has to cover him entirely. You never know what might pop out, at any height, from any direction. Your armor has to keep you safe until you can defend yourself.”
“What about you?” George asked.
“Nah. I already have what I needed. Look around. This stuff here isn’t what I’m looking for. We’re looking for something like chain mail, but cloth-ier.”
With that, everyone started sorting through the weapons and armor, discussing the usefulness of each piece. It was all high quality, but generally geared for big people fighting in the open. Tenthé had said they’d have limited space, so everything on display was too heavy. Plus, you could forget about being stealthy. If it was even possible to move after armoring up in this stuff, George would sound like a bag full of metal scrap rolling down a hill into a bell factory.
Isabell meandered off, and shortly thereafter yelled, “Hey! Come and see! This might be it.”
The boys followed her voice and found Isabell standing in front of a large chest of drawers, holding up something made from a metallic cloth.
“Any idea what this is?” she asked, before passing it around.
“Tenthé was right. Maybe it’s some kind of chain mail,” Nikolaus replied. “But if so, the loops are so smooth. It feels like fine linen.”
Just then, Tenthé arrived.
“Yeah, that’s what I was looking for.” he said. “I was pretty sure I saw it here.”
“What is it?” George asked.
“Try it on.”
The rest of the drawers had the same type of clothing in all sizes, from baby to giant. They sorted through and had him try on various pieces. It took some time, but eventually, he was fully outfitted. Along with pants and a gambeson, he had boots and mitt-like gauntlets with a separate thumb and forefinger. Isabell and Nikolaus tried on the hoods, which covered their heads entirely, completely blocking their vision.
“This fits okay,” George said as he tried on a hood. “But I can’t see… hey!”
Bands of colors began passing over his outfit, changing directions randomly. After that, patterns and glyphs appeared and traveled over the surfaces, then pictures and unrecognizable text.
A voice came from the hood, and George snatched it from his head. Now everyone could hear it clearly, but it was some weird language no-one knew.
George tried talking at the hood. Nothing happened, so he put it on again. Somewhat muffled, the others heard, “Um, sorry? Can’t understand you.”
Suddenly, George began dancing around, all the while yelling and pulling at his head.
“What’s wrong!” Isabell yelled.
“It feels felt like spiders are crawling inside my brain!”
After a little more dancing, George tore off the hood and turned to glare at Tenthé, who simply shrugged.
“Please reseat your helm. Maximum defense is not possible until this action is completed,” came from the hood. Obviously, it had learned something.
“That’s so wrong,” George muttered after a moment.
“Just put it on. You’ll be okay,” Tenthé reassured him.
Reluctantly, he did so. Immediately, he yelled, “Hey! I can see now!”
George turned until the blank front of the hood, or helm, according to the voice, faced the others as the suit flashed through more colors for a short time until settling to a dull grey.
No-one said anything for a moment, then Isabell asked, “Is that it?”
All of a sudden, George was gone. Or rather, a faint shimmer was all that indicated where he had just been standing.
Before anyone could comment, disembodied voices came from all the hoods. “Please don your helms to be able to observe your fellows.”
“Oh! This is really fancy,” Nikolaus said, stating the obvious. “Pretty nice.”
He looked at Tenthé. “Do you think Isabell and I could have a set, too?”
“Yeah, sure, but not now. It’ll take too long for you to get used to it.” Tenthé replied. “You guys can come back later and take what you want, then.”
He really didn’t care, and it wasn’t like this was the only cache he knew about.
“Is it really okay?” Isabell reiterated. “Are you sure? Uh… this stuff is pretty valuable.” She hadn’t wanted to say the last part, but something made her.
Tenthé stared at her. “Money doesn’t mean anything when someone sticks a sword through you.”
This was one of those comments that killed a conversation and outlined how much Tenthé wasn’t what he appeared to be.
“Uh, guys. I can’t hear. Or see, anymore,” George said from inside his armor. It came out quite muffled. “Guys?” he added.
Nikolaus took a step, latched onto a piece of the air, and pulled George’s helm off. George reappeared.
“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that,” Tenthé said. “Like I said, it takes a lot of practice to use this stuff correctly. Just say “basic mode”, and it’ll act normally. You can learn all the more advanced stuff later. First, let me check something.”
With that, he walked up to George and tapped some sort of glyph on the front of the armor. A small panel swung open, revealing a glowing red crystal.
“Oh, good. It’s still got lots of power. In basic mode it should last all day.”
He swung the panel shut and stepped away.
“Put your helm back on and try it now,” he ordered.
A little reluctantly, George did what he said. Looking a little like a man with a bag over his head, everyone heard a muffled “Basic mode.”
Nothing happened. Then George stated clearly. “Oh, that’s better. I can see now.”
“Yeah,” Isabell added. “And we can hear you okay, too.”
George turned just in time to catch Tenthé swinging a huge club at him. With no chance to dodge, he managed an ineffectual scream just as the blow landed mid-torso.
Instead of a crippling impact, a hard push forced him to take a step back.
George stood, stunned over his not-death until Isabell injected, “Hey, that’s pretty good. Now he needs a weapon. I wonder what’s best.”
She began looking over the various swords and pikes displayed on the racks.
“Um, I’m not a very good swordsman,” George said. “I didn’t need to know how when I was on the farm.”
Tenthé had gone off and returned with an armload of ropes, which he dumped on the floor. Everyone stared at them.
When nobody did anything, Tenthé picked up one of the ropes and handed it to George. Who showed he hadn’t had a lot of life lessons, since he took it.
For a moment nothing happened, then the rope started writhing and folded over and melted into itself, transforming into a nasty short sword.
“Wow, this is great! It’s so light!” George exclaimed, then proceeded to swing it, displaying his lack of skill.
Tenthé pointed to some chipped wooden posts mounted in the floor beside the drawers. “Try hitting that,” he directed.
George stepped over and took a slow practice swing, just to get the feel for it. When the sword met the post, it kept going and sliced right through as if the post wasn’t there.
Isabell was horrified, “What the Hells? You shouldn’t have something like that, you’ll kill us all!”
As one, everyone turned to face Tenthé.
“Uh…” he said. “Try saying “weapon, club”. I think that’s it.”
When George did so, the blade turned into a weighted baton.
Over the next half hour, everyone took part in suggesting various things. They found the ropes could be many things, and eventually George decided to make one into a small shield and another into a dull short sword that was more for beating on things, rather than slicing.
Deciding they’d spent enough time here, Tenthé led the others out of the armory, then everyone pushed the door closed and threw dirt around to disguise its presence.
Instead of leading them off, Tenthé suggested they take a break.
Finding themselves to be surprisingly hungry and thirsty, the group focused on the serious business of consuming the snack and water Tenthé handed out.
Proving herself more than equal when it mattered, Isabell finished first and asked, “Okay, what now?”
“We’re going to head down to the catacombs,” Tenthé replied.
“What? What catacombs? There are catacombs?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“How can that be? The City was founded, when? Like just a few hundred years ago.”
George broke in, “Look around. There’s something wrong. How old do you think this temple is?”
After a moment, Nikolaus ventured, “Um, really old? Check out those flagstones. I don’t know, but it would take ages for them to get that worn. A lot more than a few hundred years.”
Everybody nodded, even Tenthé, who didn’t know what hundred meant.
“I dunno,” said George. “What if a Dreamer did something? It would make sense. Hells, if the City is only a few hundred years old, I don’t think this armor would be here. There’s too much of it, and it is too good to be just forgotten.”
“Yeah, I guess. Does that mean that everything that really happened is different from what we know?” Isabell wondered.
“Maybe. Probably.” George guessed.
Not in the slightest interested in the history of the City, Tenthé got up and exited through the temple door. The group followed and fell into formation behind him.
Isabell whispered to Nikolaus, “Hey, what about Tenthé? I know he said he’d be okay, but he doesn’t have anything!”
They turned to look at him, but he wasn’t there. No Tenthé, no outline, nothing.
George hissed, “Ssssst. Tenthé!”
“Yeah?”
“Where are you?”
He laughed. “Ha-ha. Not here. Maybe I’m over there. Or somewhere else.”
“Be serious. What if we hit you? Like, in a fight, or something.”
“Don’t worry. If you do, it’s my fault.”
“Of course, but how’ll we know if you’re there?”
“You won’t unless I let you.”
Isabell broke in, “I think, well… I bet he’s been doing this for a while. We probably should trust him.”
“I guess. But still, what if…”
Nikolaus sighed. “Why don’t we see how it goes, then maybe we’ll talk about it. I’m pretty sure he’ll do whatever he wants to, anyway. You know… this explains how he gets around without anyone knowing.”
“Yeah.”
They kept walking and abruptly halted as a giant skeleton stepped out of a side alley. It walked right past with no reaction.
The three looked at each other.
Tenthé popped into view. “Oh yeah. I’ve stealthed us. Forgot to tell you.”
He then turned and yelled, “Yoo-hoo Mr. Skeleton! Yoo-hoo! Over here!”
The skeleton stopped and turned its head, then its whole body. It raised a huge club and strode back toward the group.
“So, guys. What do you think you should do?” Tenthé asked.
While the boys fumbled about, Isabell took a breath and screamed! She had obviously been practicing. The force hit the skeleton, which exploded into a cloud of dust. With nothing to hold it, the club fell to the ground.
“Wow!” Nikolaus exclaimed.
“Yeah, wow!” echoed George.
They walked up to the huge club.
“Would that hurt me?” asked George.
Tenthé answered, “If you were hit from the side, you’d be okay, but if it smashed you on the top of your head, well…” He trailed off.
“Makes sense,” said George, “from above there’s nowhere for the force to go, except down, and the floor’s in the way.”
It was sobering. George realized he couldn’t count on his new armor for everything. Tenthé turned and continued following the road. The others trailed behind.
Tenthé was visible now, but he seemed kind of… slippery? Like he was there, but not. The three followed him down a narrow alley and into the ruins of a house. In the middle of the floor was a fairly good-sized hole.
Tenthé reached around in it, found something, then began climbing down. Probably a ladder of some sort. After taking a few steps, he looked up, and warned, “Be careful, this is a bit…”
At that point, he disappeared and there was a crash from below. Everyone ran over to peer down. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust, but eventually, they could see Tenthé getting up from the floor below.
“Oops,” he said.
“You okay?” asked George.
“Yeah.”
“How do we get down?”
“Don’t know.” With that, he walked out of sight.
“George, Nikolaus, what do you guys think?” Isabell inquired.
“Um… call me Nik. I guess we’re friends? It’s a lot easier than Nikolaus, and if there’s trouble, it’s quicker.” Nik suggested.
“Yeah, sure man,” said George, “We all thought you were a little stuck up, anyway. You still are, just with a shorter name… Hey! We could use these, I suppose.”
He’d taken a few of the extra ropes from the cache and wrapped them around his waist. Everyone looked for something to tie them to, but there wasn’t anything immediately obvious.
Nik held his hand up in an aha pose.
“One of us could hold them. But… I bet we can just jump down. Our armor’ll take the force.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Isabell cautiously agreed. “I’ve never tried something this high before.”
“Let me go first,” George said, eager to try his new armor. He sat with his feet in the hole, then turned and slid down until he was hanging by his hands, and finally let go. The other two rushed over to see the oddest thing. George was bouncing up and down on the floor below, each time less and less, until he flexed his knees and stopped.
He looked up, “Ith okay, but I should’a kep’ my mouf clothed. I bid my tongue.” Then he walked out of view.
Nik, then Isabell followed. Their armor was fairly normal so when they landed, the joints flexed to absorb most of the energy. The two then went over to George and asked how he was doing.
“Don’t worry,” he replied, “Tenthé gave me a small heal before he went off in that direction. It hurts, but I can talk. By the way, I guess he knows how to do heals, too.”
Everyone turned to stare at the tunnel Tenthé had taken. After that accomplished nothing, they began looking around at the room they were in. It was formed by the junction of a number of hallways or tunnels; it was hard to tell which. There was some light coming from perpetual torches mounted on the walls, but they didn’t illuminate much.
“Maybe we should use our own light,” Nik suggested.
“I guess,” Isabell replied. “But let’s keep it dim so we don’t announce our presence too badly. Who knows what’s down here? I mean, other than Tenthé, who hasn’t told us squat.”
Isabell generated another floating light and adjusted the glow until she was satisfied. She then grabbed it and stuck it to the front of her armor.
Just as she started to enter the passage Tenthé had taken, he returned, squinting into the light.
“You think we’re okay to go, for now?” Isabell asked.
“Yeah. Be ready. Some things we might run into are tougher than the skeletons. Even so, we can handle them. They’re not that smart. And… uh, I better warn you. Watch out for the bugs.”