The Butcher of Gadobhra

"Master Rastfian! Another pulse of mana, and I've noticed something odd. Frost forms on the stone after each pulse. It was hard to see at first, but it lasted longer before melting this time."

Rastfian knelt by the stone and could tell it was slowly gaining mana. It was already mostly full, thanks to the generosity of the Baron of Gadobhra. However, this new surge of mana came from the Rift and bore a distinctive flavor of Ice Aspected Mana. The storm that was still raging in that area might be the cause, but unlikely, considering that enemy Ice Mages and their creatures were confirmed to not only be nearby but also making raids upon the Arcane Collegium.

Snapping his fingers at an apprentice mage, he sent him off on an errand. "Go to the Mage's Guild, and tell whoever is in charge of the main office that I require the services of a Master of Fire or Ice, and need them immediately. You may also say that a skilled eye is needed."

He couldn't order someone to come, but those who knew him would take him seriously, even with his low standing in the Guild these days. He'd been accused of breaking ranks and helping the Baron of Gadobhra. He'd countered that they needed every bit of mana they could get, and having a working teleportation stone in Wolfsburg was essential. No one had filed an official complaint against him since no one was stupid enough to cross the Duchess who had made it abundantly clear that if the Red Company or the Duke's Guard needed to travel, there had better be enough mana to transport them. It put him in the awkward position of officially being right and unofficially on several people's shit list.

Of course, there were many angry people in the Mage's Guild currently, and many shit lists. Times had been good for too many years, with little need for Battle Mages, but a great need for anyone with a large mana pool and the savvy to play the political game. The noble houses produced the majority of the applicants to the Arcane Colleges. Their children were well educated with chances to gain the skills that increased their intelligence, wisdom, and charisma.

There was much discussion over the proper mix of skills, but currently, the highest-paid tutors focused on a mix of skills that would serve as the basis for both ruling a barony and applying for a slot at the academies. Leadership (CHR), Political Theory (INT), Negotiation (CHR), Court Intrigue (INT), and Minion Relations (WIS) were acknowledged as the best mix, with much debate over whether to go with the Theory of Spellcasting (INT), Deception (CHR), or Etiquette (CHR).

A high mana pool, connections to the right people, and the ability to pay the increasingly high tuition fees had led the noble houses to dominate the guild, and a focus more on political power than skill in spellcasting. The occasional prodigy from the lower classes or hero who miraculously manifested an Aspect was admitted. That always went over well with the Bards. But by and large the Mage's Guild had produced few Master Mages and too many 'Nobles with Magic.' Worse, the truly inspired and inventive individuals doing unique research were frowned upon or labeled as Hedge Mages or Heretics. Undocumented and Unlicenced colleges were forming in the far corners of civilization as magic stagnated in the cities.

It was one of these 'Heretics' that Rastfian was thinking of as he observed the teleport stone throughout the day, seeing the regular influx of Ice Aspected Mana that leaked out from it. Master Caldrius was currently holding lectures on Tuesday evenings and divulging some of his secrets. (Or heresy, depending on who you talked to.) His theories on Robust Spellcasting were no longer taught at the Academy and his books became 'lost' every time he donated a new volume to the library.

Using combined aspects to cast spells had fallen out of favor as more and more students were encouraged to concentrate on one aspect alone. Some went even further, as was the case of mages who only knew enough general theory and magi-tech to allow them to run a Teleportation Stone. Such postings in the Guild were highly sought after for their prestige, ease of work, and high income. Rastfian had debated taking such a position for two decades, but finally, the high cost of research materials had made him play the political game to gain his position in Wolfsburg. The irony was that while he was richer, he had little time for pure research. The easy money that came from 'donating' mana to the teleportation system allowed him to afford many luxuries he'd spurned in his early life. Life was more comfortable, but he wasn't progressing further as a Mage. He needed time to study his element somewhere besides a luxurious apartment in a city.

He knew that wasn't the case with Master Caldrius. The old hermit spent most of his time in the wilds living with a tribe of kobolds in the Fire Flumes, sharing knowledge with them and observing the constant volcanic activity in the valley beneath an active volcano. Mount Volpurous spewed molten rock and ash into the air every week and anyone sane put fifty miles between themselves and the dangerous volcano. That Caldrius had been living there for decades and growing in power was enough to make people nervous around him. His heretical theories of studying multiple aspects as a means of advancement almost got him removed from the Guild. It worked in his favor that while much was said in private, no one had the nerve to take his membership card away.

Rastfian was hoping that someone was bright enough to think of sending Master Caldrius to investigate the situation. As an Earth Mage, Rasfian could recognize other types of elemental mana. But Caldrius had studied Heat as much as he had Fire Magic. Outside of an Ice Mage, of which the Guild had none, he was the best person to deal with this growing problem. Messages sent to the other Teleport Mages reported that they too had observed the invasion of icy mana.

Emelda insisted on feeding Ozzy lunch and he didn't object. While Betty and Granya did their best to feed everyone in Sedgewick, but they were a long way from having all the ingredients and cookware Emelda had in her huge kitchen. Today's shopping would go a way toward fixing that. Suzette wanted to expand the tavern, starting with a much larger kitchen. Jorges and the blacksmiths were good at their craft, but making high-quality enchanted copper pots like what he had seen for sale at Mistress Molly's was beyond them. Suzette and her two partners had been overjoyed with his first purchases from the cooking shop and he'd promised to return. As always, things in Sedgewick took a while to happen. Things like finishing fortresses, fighting armies of players, and the mating habits of dragons had delayed his second trip.

And his first trip must have made an impression because he was met at the door by the helpful old ladies. "You've back to visit. So happy to see you. Come in dear and have a cup of tea. Did I mention our new line of self-warming teapots is 10% off today?" Ozzy found himself sitting at a table drinking a very nice blend of tea poured from a white enameled teapot decorated with small dancing flames. He could feel the Heat it contained, managed by small runes under the enamel coating. "We fell in love with these. They have a minor enchantment that increases the volume to ten gallons. Even the thirstiest tea drinker will be pressed to empty one of these in an evening. Always fresh and hot. We ordered the entire first run of them, 144 in all. No sense in keeping money in your pocket when there are quality goods to buy, or so my Mother always said."

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Ozzy found himself agreeing with that logic and took a dozen of them. He was sure Suzette would want a half-dozen, along with one for Ben and another for Pomeline. Woodrat had tasked him with checking in on the dryad now and then, especially during the cold weather. Woodrat hadn't offered details about their relationship and Ozzy hadn't asked. He and Woodrat had saved each other's lives multiple times. She'd love the teapot, but he wondered about the pattern. Dryads didn't do well with flames.

"Any chance one of those 144 teapots has a pattern with the ocean and a sailing ship?"

The two old women shared a look and one nodded. "Oh, I'm pretty sure one does. What does the ship look like? This is your ship? You've got a certain feel about you that makes me want to sell you a set of Never Tip Mugs that won't spill their contents no matter how bad the seas get."

"A friend's actually, but she has three pure white sails and a golden hull." He wasn't surprised when ten minutes later he had a teapot with a close approximation of Splinter sailing on a blue sea. And Woodrat was going to love the set of mugs. He handed over Suzette's list of items and a large bag of gold that made his hostess smile. He almost made it out of the shop without any extra purchases other than another dozen teapots, remembering other friends who would love to have one. As he was putting the packages into his bag, Chainey unwound and went hunting, returning after a few seconds with a silver canister. The chain nudged it onto the counter and Ozzy took a look, "Metal polish?"

"Oh, that's not just any metal polish. That's a half-gallon of Dr. Pretorium's Intense Heat Premium Metal Polish. Your little friend has good taste. He'll be shiny and smooth, and not even the heat of a raging volcano will mar the polish.

Ozzy nodded at Chainey, "Sure, you work hard. Might as well look good doing it."

The metal polish went into the bag and the Butcher got on his way, the old woman waving to him. "Don't be a stranger. We have new stock every Tuesday and Big Spender's Day is the last day of each month. Stop by and save even more."

He was close to Habersham Hairtoe's Emporium of Tents, his next stop. When he entered and was recognized, several halflings grew quiet and still, while still more ran to the back door. When the Butcher continued to smile, one of them ran up to him with a grin on his face. "Welcome back! Glad to see you again. What can I sell you today?"

"I'm pretty sure you remember what you sold me last time I came around. I need another one of those." He pulled out a small bag of coins and shook it lightly.

That brought some strange and embarrassed looks. "Another dragon? Like that one? Um, sure...we can do that."

Ozzy stared down at the halflings who gathered around at the sound of coins. His visage grew very serious. "Dragon? No, you didn't sell me a dragon. Certainly not with special options for ultra-realist sound and behavior. That dragon was tossed in the trash. I didn't buy it, and you didn't sell it. And if anyone ever mentions it, you'll call them a liar and correct them. Or I'll come do it. We have an understanding?"

There was a long moment as the eldest halfling there took a long look at Ozzy and met his eyes. "I'm sure if anything did happen, I probably don't want to know the details."

"Not if your clan wants to stay on the right side of the cookpot. And to be clear, I'd be in the pot with you."

All the halflings nodded. "Right, so what can we get you?"

I need two Habersham Inflation Burners and an inflatable dragon. Something small, about ten feet long. My kobold friend loves them. Make it look good, but the only special effect she wants is firebreathing when she pulls a string. I know that's a difficult request since you've never made an inflatable dragon before and this will be the first one you've sold me."

"We can do that! Give me a week and we'll have it ready. That'll be 10,000 gold."

Ozzy pulled a barrel from his bag. "2000 gold, and a barrel of Sedgewick Sausage."

"Any more bacon?"

The Butcher could see that the deal was close. "Tell you what, you deliver my stuff to Sedgewick next week and I'll have a quarter-barrel ready for you as part of the deal. You'll be just in time for the Fae Market that will be starting up. I can introduce you to Lord Gombrindle who runs it and get you a good spot for your tent and whatever you're selling."

That brought some excited shouts. A Fae Market meant new customers and new food to eat. "Any suggestions on what to bring?"

"The Fae like weird and unique things, colorful toys, and things they haven't seen before."

More nods. "Oh, that's our specialty! No one better."

Ozzy sighed, he'd experienced their level of craftsmanship up close and personal. He left the halflings to their sausages as they immediately began packing up colorful kites, clown costumes, and other things he tried not to get a good look at. it was time to head home and start handing out teapots. As he retraced his steps, the old ladies at Mistress Mollie's Emporium waved to him. Nearby, an old man chuckled.

Ozzy turned and saw a spry old man in a worn leather tunic, black with red trim. He wore sturdy if scuffed hiking boots and held a blackened staff that he leaned on heavily. He was holding a familiar-looking teapot in his other hand. To his surprise, the Butcher could feel a furnace inside of him, burning low. "If those lovely ladies are waving to you, I suspect you bought a teapot today as well."

Ozzy laughed, "More like a couple of dozen. Good presents for friends."

"Oh, indeed. The workmanship is superb. I've tried to duplicate the runes used to make them for years. Very complicated and of course, totally hidden under the enamle. They guard their secrets well."

He held out his hand, "Caldrius. I dabble a bit with Heat and Fire as I think you do as well. Well met."

Ozzy shook his hand, finding his grip firm. "More Smoke than Fire, but it all sort of blends together when things get hot."

"So it does, so it does." The old man hooked a thumb at the empty wagon. "I don't suppose you'd allow an old man a ride? We seem to be traveling in the same direction. My last hiking trip was hell on my knees."

"Sure thing. I'm headed to the nearest Teleport Stone and home to Sedgewick."

"As luck would have it, I'm going that way too."

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