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The Gnome Barbarian
13. Scholar Barbarian Toad

13. Scholar Barbarian Toad

13. SCHOLAR BARBARIAN TOAD

Nanoc stared at the bane toad; the toad stared back. It was purple, and twice as large as the toad Nanoc had beaten, with deadly horns on its head. It stuck out its long blue tongue to lick the air.

“Glup?” the toad said. “Glup!”

A second toad hopped out of the bushes, then a third and a fourth. They glanced at their unconscious packmate without concern, then turned to Nanoc.

“Glub?” the purple toad asked eagerly. “Glub?”

“Glub!” the toads said in chorus, except for a bright blue toad which accidentally said, “Ribbit!”

The other toads turned towards and glared at it.

“Glub!” the blue toad quickly corrected itself.

Nanoc gripped his tree branch club and wondered if he was about to die. He really hoped not. It would be terrible to die at such a low level. The angels who presided over the Courts of Life and Death would shake their heads in disappointment and reincarnate him as a beetle - not that there’s anything wrong with beetles. Nature, thirteenth born of the first generation, goddess of flora, fauna and nudists, absolutely adored beetles and spent a great deal of her time creating new species of them.

Nanoc hefted the branch in his hand thoughtfully. The purple toad leered. They both leaped at the same time and met in a splat of wood and skin. The toad was heavier, and Nanoc went flying into the sky.

“Aaaargh!” Nanoc screamed.

He flew into a tree, hit the trunk, and fell through several branches before managing to hook his arm around one. The branch sagged under his weight, but it held. The sudden speed of his flight had left him dazed and hurting but also deeply, deeply embarrassed.

“I can’t believe I got my assed kicked by a frog,” he complained.

“Do you know, they’re actually toads,” said a voice from a higher branch. “The defining difference is—”

Nanoc shouted in alarm and fell backward off the branch. A hand shot out of the leaves above him and grabbed his leg as it went wheeling through the air. An elf was hanging upside down from a branch, one hand gripping Nanoc’s ankle and two legs hugging the tree trunk. Some elves, particularly those of the woodland variety, could boast such a high dexterity that holding to a gnome while climbing would have been no difficulty at all, but this elf was dressed in the grey cloak of a librarian and wore glasses smudged with dirt. He was not particularly agile or strong, and he slipped down the trunk as he tried to swing Nanoc to safety.

“Toads have shorter limbs and drier, wartier skins,” the elf continued, sounding pleased that he could share this information. “Most toads still need to lay their eggs in the water, though.”

“Is now really the time for a lesson in biology?” Nanoc asked, reaching for a branch. His finger tips brushed the bark, but didn’t quite reach.

“Do you know, it’s always good to learn new things,” the elf said as he slipped further down the tree. “That is what we who serve Knowledge believe, at least.”

“Oh,” Nanoc said as he and the elf slipped further down the trunk towards the waiting toads. “You’re a follower of Knowledge, then.”

“Yes. Do you know, my name is Dren,” the elf said enthusiastically.

“What are you doing in the forest?” Nanoc asked, curious despite himself. “You look like you belong in a museum.”

Dren nodded. “That is my retirement plan, yes. For now, however, my mentors at the university suggested I try the field scholar class, to go out and discover new things. They said I’d be good at it.”

“They really said that?” Nanoc said, doubtfully, looking at the Scholar’s muddy robes and bare feet. The elf looked even less suited to the forest than Nanoc was.

“Do you know, they did.”

That was mostly true.

The professors who led the university were a quiet, diligent group of mortals who served the god of Knowledge well enough, but in all their years dedicated to teaching and learning they’d never had a student quite like Dren. He’d gone through the university archives and collated dozens of the most dangerous spells ever created, then tried to improve them. This experimental approach to magic caused a lot of noise and trouble, which was not appreciated. After an incident when Dren had set off a series of large fireballs in the cafeteria – he’d been trying new ways to warm his tea - the professors decided enough was enough. They were not unkind people, but nobody likes to see their biscuits exploded. The most senior professors invited Dren into the dean’s offices, sat him down in an old leather chair, and suggested that it was time for a change in career. They agreed that an elf of Dren’s unique talents would make an excellent field scholar, with the unspoken preference that it be in a field far, far away. They’d bought Dren a ticket to the edges of the empire and wished him all the best.

“I’m learning a lot from being out here,” Dren said, apparently quite sincerely.

“You’d probably learn even more things if we get out of this tree,” Nanoc said.

“Do you know, I think you’re right, starting with how hungry those toads are.”

Nanoc peered downward through the leaves. Three very large, very hungry bane toads were waiting at the foot of the tree, staring upward with mouths open.

“I think I can drop onto one and knock it out,” Nanoc said. “I can probably take care of one of the others, too.”

“Are you a warrior class?” Dren asked politely.

“I’m a barbarian,” Nanoc explained, then waited for the elf to make fun of him.

He wouldn’t have blamed the elf for laughing. Barbarians were a hearty, muscular class, and gnomes were delicate, boring creatures better known for their filing. It was ridiculous for Nanoc to claim to be a gnome barbarian.

But not to Dren.

“Fascinating,” Dren said, nodding. “I’ll want to make a note of that, but what I really would like to know is—”

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“Can you deal with the third toad?” Nanoc asked.

“What? Yes, I have a spell somewhere that should do it.”

“Well… let’s hope it works.”

Nanoc jumped from the branch, aiming his feet right at the head of the toad below him. His feet slammed into the toad’s head with a thump that traveled up Nanoc’s back and into his head so that he felt he’d just been punched in the back of his skull.

“Ouch!” Nanoc said.

But it had been worth it. The toad slumped down, defeated.

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Critical hit!

You’ve knocked the toad down! Way to put your body on the line! You have lost 2 health!

New ability learned: Body slam!

Use your body as a battering ram! You’ll take some damage but they’ll take more!

Warning: Does not work on buildings,

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A moment later, Dren dropped out of the tree, spell book in hand, and landed clumsily. The nearest toads, startled by the elf’s arrival, jumped right at him. Dren didn’t notice. He’d dropped his notebook and bent to retrieve it, ducking down just in time for the toad to go flying over his head and smack into a tree trunk, stunning it for a moment.

The last toad turned towards Nanoc, its long tongue unrolling out of its mouth. Nanoc whacked it with his branch, which snapped in his hands. He kicked the toad in its side, but his foot bounced off the toad’s thick skin. It reared up on its back legs and pushed him hard, sending him stumbling backward. The toad threw itself after the gnome, and Nanoc rolled aside just moments before the bulky beast landed on him. The gnome looked around for a weapon, any weapon, but while the forest was full of fallen branches, they were either too small or large to be of any use. Worse still, was that the two toads that had been stunned were once again back on their feet and looking for dinner.

“Dren! Is that spell ready?” Nanoc asked.

“What? Do you still want that? Wait, I know I have it somewhere,” Dren called out. “Keep them occupied, if you would. Now, where is that book…”

The nearest toad bounced over to Nanoc, mouth open. The gnome, having found no weapon, headbutted it with all his strength. Crack!

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Body slam! Critical hit!

We meant you to use your body, not your brain! 3 HP lost! Don’t try that again!

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The toad jumped away, groaning in pain. Nanoc had not fared much better.

“Ouch!” Nanoc muttered, staggering backward. “Dren! Spell!”

The elf dropped his spell book, picked it up again, flicked to a page, and began muttering to himself. The three toads turned towards him and licked their lips lazily.

“Cinap’s fingers of light!”

Bright lances of light flew from his fingers, hitting the toads right in their eyes. The beasts screamed and fled, bounding through the forest. Nanoc and Dren were safe. Nanoc sat down, his head aching from his headbutt. He lightly touched the egg-sized bump that was growing out of his head and winced at the pain. His vision was spinning. He felt sick.

“Do you know,” Dren said politely. “That was really—"

“Don’t,” Nanoc warned him. “Don’t make a joke about using my head or anything even close to that, or I will kick you into the sun.”

“—really brave,” Dren said, quickly changing what he was going to say. “I can’t believe you did that!"

The elf wasn’t the only one who was impressed.

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New level!

Congratulations! By defeating a higher-level monster when everyone thought you were dead for sure, you have earned a new level!

You are now a level 2 barbarian!

You have gained 1 strength and 3 health!

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“Yes!” Nanoc said, punching the air. “Another level for this gnome!”

It had taken him months to earn his second level as a clerk, but he’d had only been a barbarian for a few minutes, and he’d already gone up. He wondered if that was some kind of record (it was: the next best speed of ascending to the second level was from Hsif Gib, a Fisherman who accidentally caught and somehow killed a small kraken on his first day of work. This unprecedented achievement made Hsif Gib overconfident, and after a long night of boasting about his greatness, he fell off his boat and was swallowed by the kraken’s mother. The gods laughed).

Nanoc was doing well. Granted, he’d nearly died several times, but he’d also learned new skills. He could do this; it would be easy. The feeling of new power made him quite lightheaded. Luckily for him, Dren was there to drag him back to earth.

“Gnome?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know, you aren’t wearing any pants?”

“Yes.”

“And is this a choice? Are you perhaps a nudist, a follower of Nature?”

“I am not,” Nanoc said, annoyed.

“Then your lack of pants is most perplexing.”

“I am aware of this, yes,” Nanoc replied tersely. “But I’m not sure how pointing it out helps.”

Dren smiled. “Knowledge is always helpful, friend. I—"

“The only knowledge I want is where to find a pair of pants,” Nanoc muttered.

“Pants… pants. Yes, I know! Let me try this spell. Tegrat’s instant pants!”

A nearby bush exploded into greenish smoke. The bush was gone, and in its place lay a pair of bark trousers. Dren picked them up and offered them to Nanoc,

“Did you know, Archmage Tegrat hated ironing so much that he made his own pants each morning? A useful spell. These won’t last long, though.”

Nanoc slipped the trousers on. They fit perfectly.

“Right,” he said, a little surprised that Dren had done something so practical. “Thanks.”

“Do you know, I’ve never seen a gnome of the barbarian class. In fact—"

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New level!

Congratulations! For discovering a unique class/race combination that should have been impossible has earned you a new level!

You are now a level 8 field scholar!

You have gained 1 knowledge and 1 focus!

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“Excellent,” Dren said, pleased. “Today I have truly learned something worth knowing. Thank you, gnome.”

“For what, exactly?” Nanoc asked suspiciously. Clerks were seldom thanked, except sarcastically.

“Your mere existence has made the world a more interesting place,” Dren said sincerely. “Learning of your unique class and race combination shall make my god happy, and I have even increased my level. This is all very good.”

Nanoc stared at Dren skeptically, but the elf appeared quite serious in his praise. Nanoc decided to accept it; Knowledge was the god of truth, after all, and Dren would not lie.

They walked on in silence for a moment, and then Dren asked, “And which gods do you follow, Nanoc?”

This was not an easy question for Nanoc to answer. There were so many gods to choose from, and yet he hadn’t. There were gods of the first generation, like Order, who did not require worship or prayer from their followers, only action. Following the rules – any rules – was an act of Order, and thus each time a citizen filled out a form or paid their taxes, they also paid homage to their god. Reading a book was an act of Knowledge while running naked through the forest was an act of Nature, and so forth. As the head of the pantheon of gods and goddesses, Order allowed almost every other member of his immortal family to have a temple or altar in the Empire, and most citizens had a favorite they would visit on a regular basis.

But not Nanoc. He was not interested in the gods. He dealt with the question of religion, death, and his immortal soul in the way mortals dealt best with all their major problems: he tried not to think about it. Since accepting his new class, however, a beating drum of joy was rising from his tiny heart, a song of freedom, a song of contempt for the gods and their silly rules. It was the song of Chaos, and he liked it, but even here, in the forest, he dared not speak of such things.

“I think… I can hear more toads coming,” he lied. “We should leave.”

They set off at a brisk pace, and Nanoc quickly thought of a new topic of conversation.

“I’m glad we both gained a level,” he said.

“Yes, that is good. And surely such progression is the greatest treasure—”

Nanoc spun around and waved a hand to silence the scholar.

“Don’t say that word,” Nanoc warned.

“What word?”

“The ‘t’ word!”

“What? Why shouldn’t I say ‘treasure’?” Dren asked, surprised.

“If you say the ‘t’ word three times someone from the Heroes Guild will appear. It’s what they do.”

Dren smiled.

“Ah, but if a scholar in the woods says ‘treasure’ and there is no hero to hear him, did he really say—”

An arrow slammed into the ground beside him. He stared in surprise, but Nanoc tackled him to the ground as another arrow shot overhead.

“Here they come!”

Seven heavily armed men and women raced out of the trees, blades and bows drawn. Their leader, an archer in black armor, ran right up to Dren and aimed an arrow at the scholar’s eye.

“Did someone say ‘treasure’? Where is it? Do you have it, elf?” their leader demanded. “Give it to me right now!”

“Curse Knowledge's crooked nose, and all who follow him,” Nanoc muttered.

The Heroes Guild had arrived.