Humans.<\/p>\n
Why Humans? That was what they had said, at first. The group that knew the truth of worlds, or at least, part of it.<\/p>\n
The Gnolls of Liscor, that was. Because they had known for a while.<\/em> Not all of them, but the older ones. The ones who didn\u2019t talk about the vast secret. At first it had not been so vast since it was one person. Now? It was growing.<\/p>\n But at first\u2014they had said this. Why Humans?<\/em> Why couldn\u2019t there be a race of Gnolls who\u2019d managed to create an advanced civilization in another world? Of course, Gnolls would do it differently. Probably\u2026they\u2019d invent better shampoos that didn\u2019t smell so strongly.<\/p>\n Or something.<\/p>\n This was what Krshia wrote. In code.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n Send one of the Humans. We have met another.<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Another one.<\/em> So, Elirr gathered some of the senior Gnolls remaining in the city. Grey-furred City Gnolls, not a tribe per se, but a community.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is getting too big, Elirr.\u201d<\/p>\n A Gnoll petting a cat peered at him. [Senior Scribe] Hemera. Another Gnoll sleepily blinked.<\/p>\n \u201cWe have to do something. The Meeting of Tribes will produce a large result. Plains Gnolls, though\u2026unpredictable. I\u2019ve never been to the tribes, but they\u2019re temperamental, aren\u2019t they?\u201d<\/p>\n That came from a City Gnoll for life, Permel. Also old\u2014pushing seventy. Many of the most distinguished Gnolls had gone, but still\u2014a [Master Potter] was something to admire. He made wonderful porcelain and had banned Elirr\u2019s animals from his shop forever.<\/p>\n \u201cThe tribes are fickle. But it is Krshia who asks, not them. I trust her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAmbitious, though. Young Gnolls\u2014yes, she\u2019s still young enough to be ambitious! Of course, we help<\/em>, but I\u2019d rather roll around in ink than put little Mrsha in danger. Doombringer. We called her that and we\u2019re<\/em> city-born. Imagine what they\u2019ll do?\u201d<\/p>\n Hemera put in. The others nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cIf only we could send a Gold-rank team. The Halfseekers?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPerhaps. They would not be cheap. But they love her too. As for a Human\u2026well, they are older. Krshia is right in that one should go, especially if they have found another.<\/em> Perhaps bring them back here?\u201d<\/p>\n More nods as a cat teased the shy Wyvern, Jekle, who\u2019d finally been left to wander the shop. The other two Gnolls eyed it, but Elirr could sense the young Wyvern\u2019s emotions and the most the youngling felt was fear towards the evil cats.<\/p>\n Elirr pointed at the offending cat.<\/p>\n \u201cBerry. Enough. Leave him alone. Scat.\u201d<\/p>\n The cat gave Elirr a look<\/em>. He turned and proceeded to try to\u2014Elirr threw a crumpet at the animal and the cat grabbed it and fled.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ve created monsters.\u201d<\/p>\n Permel shook his head. The other Gnolls chuckled, and presently, the group of six nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cA Human it is. One should go.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut which<\/em> one?\u201d<\/p>\n Ah, now. That was the question. The others looked at Elirr and his ears and tail drooped. He would have to visit. For a strange inversion had taken place.<\/p>\n Where once the inn had been the center of change, now the world was passing it by. And it sat in\u2026stasis.<\/p>\n Waiting for the [Innkeeper] to wake up.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n —-<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The Wandering Inn held so few these days. And even if they slept there, many left as soon as they\u2019d eaten, before they\u2019d eaten. It was like an abandoned\u2026inn\u2026<\/p>\n Before a young woman had found it. A perfect circle\u2014although this inn was not completely deserted. But even the Humans had drifted away.<\/p>\n Case in point. Kevin Hall woke up from the room in which he\u2019d been sleeping at the urgent pounding on his door. He fell out of his chair, hit the ground, and heard the urgent voice.<\/p>\n \u201cMister Kevin? Mister Kevin\u2014it\u2019s a client!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m just Kevin! Who\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n But Kevin already knew. The young man picked himself up; his chair was on the floor, and he rubbed at a bruise as he scrambled to his feet.<\/p>\n He had been sleeping in, well, the office. The small room, the building rented for the new job he was working at.<\/p>\n \u2026In Esthelm. Selys had pushed for Liscor. Hedault wanted Invrisil.<\/p>\n Invrisil was expensive. Liscor had\u2014had been The Wandering Inn and besides, the new quarter was unfinished and neither artisan worked there, only the money, Selys. So Kevin had chosen Esthelm. It was cheap and Hedault responded to [Messages].<\/p>\n Master Pelt did not. And yes, Kevin would have benefitted from the sleep Skills in The Wandering Inn. He had his own room\u2014but he\u2019d fallen asleep balanced on the chair in his office, half-leaned back.<\/p>\n It was an art form and Kevin must have managed at least<\/em> a good six hours in that position before the knocking had awoken him. Also point in fact?<\/p>\n It\u2019s three AM. Or thereabouts.<\/em><\/p>\n Kevin stumbled towards the door. And yet\u2014someone had woken him. He recognized the worried Drake [Scribe] he\u2019d hired as a general assistant to write down orders and so on.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s just Kevin. Speaking stone?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s Client F<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n The Drake was very<\/em> nervous. He handed Kevin the stone and the young man groggily raised it.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is Kevin of Solar Cycles, how can I help you today?\u201d<\/p>\n He recognized the echoing voice and tone immediately.<\/p>\n \u201cI am Fetohep of Khelt.\u201d<\/p>\n Of course he was. Kevin\u2019s skin chilled. He waved the Drake off; the Drake sleepily went back to taking [Messages] or waiting for calls<\/em> from the people who insisted on it. They had to actually have a speaking lodestone enchanted and then send one to the shop. But some did.<\/p>\n And only one person would call at night.<\/em> A universal night! Kevin felt he should really look into that at some point. He checked the crude clock he had set up by his desk.<\/p>\n \u2026And recalled that sundials really needed daylight to work. And he wasn\u2019t at the level where a mechanical clock was feasible.<\/p>\n More clear audio than a phone call\u2014sundials. That was technology here for you. Kevin slowly relaxed into his chair.<\/p>\n \u201cHow can I help you today, your Majesty?\u201d<\/p>\n Fetohep\u2019s voice was calm. Precise\u2014commanding.<\/p>\n \u201cI have a copy of your latest catalogue<\/em>, Kevin of Liscor<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n Kevin bit his tongue. Fetohep always said that after the first conversation, but the way he said it made them both know what he really meant.<\/p>\n \u201cEr\u2014yes, your Majesty?\u201d<\/p>\n They\u2019d put that out right before Kevin went to sleep!<\/em> The Mage\u2019s Guild got a copy, which they could print on demand for whomever wanted it. And the Runner\u2019s Guild had been upset because they<\/em> wanted to sell copies\u2026<\/p>\n Fetohep had a lot of time on his hands. He kept doing this, sometimes at midnight, or other times of the day. He seemed sort of bored. Kevin fiddled with a gear lying on his desk as he listened. Pelt had been trying different teeth\u2026<\/p>\n \u201cI notice your latest catalogue lists a \u2018four-wheeled carriage\u2019 option to be assembled and tethered to a bicycle.\u201d<\/p>\n Oh, the pull-along rickshaw Kevin had thought up. It was a simple idea. If Hedault could enchant a bicycle to be practically weightless, why not add<\/em> pedal power to create an alternative to a horse-drawn carriage? Was it better? No. But it was fun<\/em>, and both the [Enchanter] and the [Smith] had okayed a trial version. So had Selys; she\u2019d green lighted it a minute into Kevin\u2019s pitch.<\/p>\n After all, novelty sold. And while Solar Cycles had yet to make many actual sales\u2026<\/em>they were rolling in orders.<\/p>\n Fetohep of Khelt was not pleased, though. And it took Kevin a hot, sweating minute to understand why. Their first\u2014most important (according to him), and undead client\u2019s tone was irate as he spoke with icy reserve.<\/p>\n \u201cThis \u2018Cycle Rickshaw\u2019 option is clearly derivative as only the wheels and connective material will be provided. However,<\/em> it is a new option produced by your store.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, your Majesty. Only the parts to ah, modify any standing wagon or carriage will be sent. But it is a new concept! A do-it-yourself assembly; much faster to produce than the entire vehicle.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd you did not think to immediately<\/em> inform me of this new addition to your lineup?\u201d<\/p>\n Ah. Kevin exhaled, keeping his head pointed away from the speaking stone. He spoke quickly, sitting forwards urgently at his desk.<\/p>\n \u201cI ah, did think you would be interested, Your Perpetual Majesty. Which is why we already added the item to your order, gratis.<\/em> Free of charge, that is! That\u2019s uh, standard policy for Khelt alone. Any new item we deem worthy of import is automatically added to your list of purchases. We will, of course, bill you for more costly additions, but your patronage more than pays for this small addition.\u201d<\/p>\n Kevin waited for a response. He slowly, and covertly, wrote down a note on the wood itself with a quill and ink to do that. And waited on tenterhooks for the King of Khelt\u2019s will.<\/p>\n It was like having a multi-million\u2014a billionaire walk into your bicycle shop and demand quality service. Only\u2014most billionaires even from Earth didn\u2019t employ an army and have the resources to hire [Assassins] if offended.<\/p>\n \u2026Or did they? Kevin was sweating as the silence lingered on the other end. He heard no breathing, no sounds of life. Which, of course, made the wait only more dreadful.<\/p>\n \u201cVery wise of you, Kevin of Liscor. It seems I have underestimated the commonality of knowledge among some of this generation. Very well. And the arrival of my first object?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOne week, your Majesty. Master Pelt has finished the newest bicycle to exacting<\/em> performance as you know, and it is in the enchanting phase. I will add that the uh, gold plating did take time to work on, but it will be\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Kevin consulted his notes and winced. A golden bicycle<\/em> with superior enchanting and craftsmanship to even the one Ryoka had wrecked on her now-famous run.<\/p>\n \u201c\u2026one week until enchanting is finished, upon which time the Courier of your choosing shall escort it to Zeres.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI see. Very good. <\/em>As to the nature of the request you made of me, Kevin of Liscor\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n The young man sat up. The voice continued as, suddenly, adrenaline ran through his veins.<\/p>\n \u201cI have considered your plea at length. My answer is unchanged from the moment I gave it. An object of such worth<\/em> is more costly than a hundred such vehicles your company could produce, as you know. If Master Pelt and Master Hedault\u2026and you were to swear yourselves to Khelt\u2019s service, I would consider the issue further. As that is not likely, I will consider the matter closed.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2026I see, your Majesty.\u201d<\/p>\n Kevin hung his head. The voice was not unkind at the other end. But neither was it kind. It was, simply, impartial.<\/p>\n \u201cMy offer to those still living extends, Kevin of Liscor. Remember that.\u201d<\/p>\n There was no click,<\/em> but the subtle glow faded. Kevin sat there, exhaling.<\/p>\n It had never been likely. But he had hoped\u2014yet, no. No grand artifact from Khelt. As the ruler of the nation of Chandrar had pointed out when Kevin had begged for it, hoping against hope\u2014<\/p>\n \u201cWhat you ask for cannot be reproduced, and lingers only in the vaults of those who have saved it from times before <\/em>I was born, Kevin of Earth. Should we relinquish such objects so lightly? Not even for my own people would I lightly open my vaults.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n No Potion of Regeneration. No artifact of healing. Kevin knew it was fair. Fetohep, for all his horrible hours in calling, was polite and knew there were production delays. Kevin put his head down on the desk.<\/p>\n When he woke, he had ink on one cheek and a back-ache from sitting in the wrong spot. But he was back to work already. He wished for coffee and got tea. The Drake\u2014Merckle\u2014was replaced by a Human [Assistant] and maybe even [Mechanic] in training. A local Esthelm young woman who was taking orders.<\/p>\n \u201cPallass wants their cycle today,<\/em> Mister Kevin.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey can wait. How many bicycles do we have?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUnenchanted or enchanted? Master Hedault\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c\u2014Works slow. I know. We should hire a cheaper, faster one.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe won\u2019t like that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhich is why I<\/em> get to talk to him. How many unenchanted, then?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUm\u2026um\u2026three should be done.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll go see.\u201d<\/p>\n Kevin adjusted the clothing he\u2019d worn for uh, two days straight. He sniffed himself a second, but he didn\u2019t notice any odor. And where he was going, all you could smell was soot and metal.<\/p>\n \u201cPhew. He stinks<\/em>. Humans never bathe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cImagine being in the tribes. We<\/em> don\u2019t bathe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo you just get used to the smell?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell\u2026we get used to the smell of sewers.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHrr. Fair point.\u201d<\/p>\n The small group of Gnolls watched as covertly as possible as Kevin left the headquarters of Solar Cycles.<\/em> The small building was one of many in the rebuilding Esthelm. It hadn\u2019t achieved Liscor\u2019s rapid pace of immigration, but people were coming for work.<\/p>\n Not least because this city now had a calling card. Humans were casually glancing at the three Gnolls peeking around the corner, but they probably assumed the Gnolls were here for the same reason people were deciding to settle here, and trade and business was flowing in.<\/p>\n Master Pelt of Esthelm\u2019s forge was already clanging<\/em> with sound\u2014but the [Silence] spells meant that it wasn\u2019t that<\/em> loud.<\/p>\n Until you passed the boundaries and heard the roar of the Dwarf\u2019s voice, louder even than the forges and hammering of metal.<\/p>\n \u201cYou! Out of my forge! Out!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Kevin, Elirr, Permel, and Hemera all watched as a young man fled the furious Dwarf in the early hours of morning, face white, as Pelt hurled<\/em> something down.<\/p>\n It looked like\u2026Kevin blinked. Dust?<\/p>\n It was a very fine, dark dust mixed with some red. And a few flecks of\u2026well, Pelt was already roaring the answer.<\/p>\n \u201cI told you to watch the metal like your life depended on it! <\/em>Half a dozen<\/em> flaws from the very steel we\u2019d make? Why don\u2019t you stab the [Warrior] who tries to use a blade made with steel this shoddy? Out! Out!<\/em> You won\u2019t work in my forge again! Begone!\u201d<\/p>\n He hurled more insults as the apprentice [Smith] ran for his life. Kevin stared blearily. It was probably like\u2026six AM.<\/p>\n \u201cHi, Pelt. What did that poor guy do?\u201d<\/p>\n The Dwarf was red with fury. But he was animated. And Kevin saw no less than nine<\/em> apprentice-smiths\u2014some actual [Smiths] who\u2019d come to apprentice themselves once more\u2014huddling over their work. Not all were banging metal. The Dwarf pointed with a shaking finger.<\/p>\n \u201cSmelting steel. That\u2019s all that fool had to do, but they cut corners. I told them to sieve<\/em> the dust we use to smelt our crucibles. And look!\u201d<\/p>\n He gestured at the raw iron dust and ore. Kevin bent and inspected the pot.<\/p>\n \u201c\u2026Not all of its iron?\u201d<\/p>\n He saw tiny, tiny<\/em> specks of what might have been other stone or just sand in the mix, although it was currently lying on the ground of Pelt\u2019s forge. The Dwarf growled.<\/p>\n \u201cContamination!<\/em> I demand purity<\/em>. Not as if we wouldn\u2019t fold the metal and work it out. But look at it! As if you could just trust the smelting process to burn it away! What kind of half-rate\u2014quarter-rate\u2014[Blacksmith] would work like that?\u201d<\/p>\n Possibly no other [Smith] in the world would be so demanding. The Humans, Drakes, even a Gnoll and pair of Dullahans, bent to their work, and those preparing the metal for smelting sweated harder.<\/p>\n It was not fun having Pelt as your teacher and master smith. He was not a nurturing presence and Kevin had seen dozens\u2014literally dozens\u2014of prospective apprentices kicked out. Not always by Pelt himself. His top apprentice, Emessa, was almost as exacting as he.<\/p>\n \u201cIdiots who can\u2019t even follow basic orders don\u2019t deserve to be [Smiths]. What do you want? I\u2019m busy managing these fools as much as\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaster! Your steel\u2019s ready!\u201d<\/p>\n A panting voice. The Drake, Emessa, was waving at Pelt. The [Smith] turned.<\/p>\n \u201cAh.<\/em> Wait here.\u201d<\/p>\n He curtly told Kevin. The young man knew that even top-class [Merchants]\u2014Esthelm\u2019s ruling body\u2014and anyone else would wait. Kevin was an actual exception. But even he waited as Pelt marched back to the anvil where the metal was hot and ready. The Dwarf picked up his hammer and tongs\u2014<\/p>\n And the anvil sang.<\/em> Everyone stopped\u2014at least, if they weren\u2019t at work themselves\u2014to watch and listen. The metal moved<\/em> when Pelt struck it, shaping itself faster than all but the best machines from Kevin\u2019s world could match.<\/p>\n And machines did one thing. Pelt was infinitely adjustable, doing whatever needed to be done in a blur. He was shaping another gear, hand-hammering in the perfect symmetry of each groove and tooth.<\/p>\n Not even Emessa could match that. Although\u2026Kevin saw replicas being made at other anvils.<\/p>\n Not half as good, for all the [Smiths] sweated on them for\u2026it must be a factor of thirty<\/em> times as long as Pelt took, even counting Emessa \u2018prepping\u2019 everything for him.<\/p>\n But that was how a master worked. It was as close to assembly-line as Kevin had seen, and the Dwarf had actually smiled when Kevin brought it up.<\/p>\n Pelt did not do much himself besides oversee. His apprentices forged iron, purified steel by folding it, cleaned, created usable billets\u2014and only when the masterstroke was needed did Pelt step in.<\/p>\n Or when the material itself was magical. But that way, the [Smith] was only<\/em> working when he was absolutely needed.<\/p>\n It was either efficient\u2014or lazy\u2014or both. Not everyone could handle it. Many people quit, but many stayed long enough to learn how the best [Smith] in the region\u2014perhaps all of Izril\u2014did it.<\/p>\n He was done and letting Emessa check the measurements, check the steel, and then finish it with quenching, filing, and so on after ten minutes. He strode back, briskly, barking orders, critiquing work\u2014but alive with energy.<\/p>\n Master Pelt had returned in truth. So much so that the Dwarf in Pallass seemed like a cheap joke, a rip-off of the real thing. Pallass had had<\/em> a master-class smith. But this was him working hard.<\/p>\n \u201cBicycles. That\u2019s why you\u2019re here.\u201d<\/p>\n He grunted at Kevin. The young man nodded. The Gnoll\u2019s ears perked up. More were done already?<\/em> The Dwarf spat. And the first bit of reserve entered his voice.<\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019re not the best\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know. But they are done?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n The Dwarf stretched out the word reluctantly. Kevin shrugged.<\/p>\n \u201cThe customers know they\u2019re not your work, Pelt. It even says so. They still run, don\u2019t they?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPassably. I tested them out; everything spins. And the steel is good. I wouldn\u2019t accept it for less, but\u2014<\/em>well, come and see.\u201d<\/p>\n Kevin did. The three Gnolls edged out. Elirr adjusted the hat he was wearing. It didn\u2019t really help since they were still Gnolls in a Human city, but Kevin hadn\u2019t noticed and neither had Pelt.<\/p>\n The bad bicycles were lined up. Three, made of iron, steel, or wood in parts. Pelt looked ashamed of them as the [Smiths] responsible for making them looked up.<\/p>\n Kevin thought they were fine.<\/em> Not as light as a modern bicycle made of aluminum\u2014and Pelt could forge his bicycle parts out of Dwarfsteel or extremely thin steel for Hedault to enchant, but that was the point.<\/p>\n If he<\/em> worked at it, Pelt could create a custom-built bike with gold plating that was a masterpiece. But it took him days upon days to do, and he\u2019d happily trash a piece he worked on for two days plus if it didn\u2019t fit his standards.<\/p>\n This? This was his apprentice\u2019s work. Kevin had suggested it to reduce the huge bottleneck and Pelt had reluctantly agreed.<\/p>\n \u201cIt spins. But notice that gear? We had to file down the teeth because it was wrong. And<\/em> it\u2019s not the best of fits along the metal to wood frame\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Pelt was groaning and hemming and hawing, but Kevin thought it was just Pelt\u2019s standards. He commented mildly.<\/p>\n \u201cThe bike runs. That\u2019s good enough. And it\u2019s why we\u2019re providing the option.\u201d<\/p>\n Cheap, unenchanted bicycles. Three, as ordered. Pelt grumbled into his beard.<\/p>\n \u201cI shouldn\u2019t let you take them, really. They\u2019re passable<\/em>, but\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut I\u2019ll say they\u2019re not yours. See? We can even write, \u2018not a work of Master Pelt\u2019 on it. And it takes the load off. In fact, other smiths are already trying to make bicycles.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHah!<\/em> Let them. Those damned gears really are a pain to make. If you have a mold you have a shot, but\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Kevin smiled. That was his talent. People liked Kevin. And before you knew it, he was wheeling out the bicycles with an apprentice. Elirr and the other two Gnolls listened to everything, of course.<\/p>\n \u201cThis one goes straight to Pallass. This one? Liscor\u2019s Runner\u2019s Guild. Ask for Hawk. He knows where to take it. The last one I\u2019ll take to Invrisil. Someone\u2019s getting it. Um\u2014where are my orders? Oh, and I should get a receipt signed\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s good work. A bicycle, hm? I wonder how much the cheap ones cost?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMore than we can afford. Yet. He could be good. But he is clearly needed here. That grumpy [Smith]\u2014few could work with him, yes? But he would be a good choice. I like Kevin.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe is likable.\u201d<\/p>\n Elirr agreed, watching the young man. But Kevin had established himself here. He had created a job\u2014an entire industry really\u2014where none had existed. He would be a good choice for Krshia, though. Still\u2026<\/p>\n It was Pelt that Elirr glanced at. The Dwarf was working. He was angry, focused, and grudgingly approving at times. He had regained his spark. And one person was to thank for that. It all went back to the inn.<\/p>\n Alas.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n —-<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The Wandering Inn was empty. No one came in.<\/p>\n Empty. No one came by, anymore. Who would come to drink and eat when Erin lay in the garden? People did come, but not to dine. Not for those fun gatherings.<\/p>\n The Players of Celum had left. The regulars didn\u2019t show their faces except to ask to go into the garden. A few people did come day by day, like clockwork.<\/p>\n Ishkr, who swept up, served drinks and food, Selys, to check on people. And the inn had guests. Hexel the [Architect], who breakfasted in Liscor and only came back to sleep. His apprentices\u2026a few others.<\/p>\n But all that remained were ghosts. If you walked about the inn, you might find them. A Hobgoblin, sitting in the Garden, usually, sword on his knees. A Worker with a bow, who no longer sang.<\/p>\n Humans, talking quietly. A Centaur, a Minotaur and Human [Mage]. And among them all, one constant.<\/p>\n A little white Gnoll who sat in the middle of the vast common room, like a large stuffed animal. Or a puppet with its strings cut. She didn\u2019t move. Her fur was white, a rarity among Gnolls. Normally she was running about; in other times, better times, she would be playing amidst the chairs, sneaking food, or playing tag with her two friends.<\/p>\n Today, like yesterday and the day before, she sat, unmoving, except when her mother fed her or tried to get her to do anything. She sat there in the empty inn and knew it was all her fault.<\/p>\n For she was Mrsha.<\/p>\n And she was a Doombringer.<\/p>\n I am doom.<\/em><\/p>\n That was the one thing that she heard. It was her voice, in her head. Every moment. It was a certainty.<\/p>\n I am doom. Erin is dead, and I am doom. Mother left me. Two mothers, because I am doom.<\/em><\/p>\n This she knew was true. She had denied it. But the truth was clear. So the certainty repeated itself, again and again, second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour.<\/p>\n I am doom.<\/em> I am doom.<\/em> I am doom.<\/em> I am doom.<\/em> I am doom.<\/em> I am doom.<\/em> I am doom.<\/em> I am doom. I am\u2014<\/em><\/p>\n Ulvama kicked Mrsha across the inn. The little Gnoll went flying and landed on a table. The Hobgoblin decided that was worth two points.<\/p>\n The art of kicking children was a surprisingly complex mechanism to anyone who was unskilled at it. Ulvama was an expert.<\/p>\n You didn\u2019t kick<\/em> a Goblin child or Gnoll the same way you hit a soccer ball, for instance, although there were some parallels. As Joseph could have told you for the game of football,<\/em> it wasn\u2019t kicking with the impact so much as pushing<\/em> the ball, launching it with momentum. An impact-kick could break your toes!<\/p>\n The trick was to insert the tip of your foot underneath the child\u2014Mrsha in this case\u2014and loft<\/em> her into the air. Thereby achieving maximum flight and distance with the least amount of damage to your foot and said child. Gnoll punting. It could be a sport.<\/p>\n Mrsha landed on the table and slid slightly, but didn\u2019t go off the edge. The [Shaman] rubbed her claws together. She waited\u2014but the Gnoll just looked at her and then lay on the top of the table.<\/p>\n Ulvama scowled. Well, this was depressing. She wasn\u2019t an expert on Gnoll children, having come from the Mountain City tribe, but she\u2019d expected this one to be at least a bit like little Goblins. But the Mrsha-Gnoll was practically unresponsive.<\/p>\n \u201cMm.\u201d<\/p>\n The [Shaman] wandered off. Mrsha lay on the table. That hadn\u2019t actually hurt; it had just been surprising. She did not like the [Shaman]. But who cared?<\/p>\n For I am doom. This is what I deserve. Lyonette has left and that is good for she will die if she stays with me. She left because of what I am. Doom, doom\u2014<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s this?\u201d<\/p>\n The [Shaman] waved something at Mrsha. The Gnoll\u2019s head moved slightly. She saw the Hobgoblin had found some of the face paint the Players of Celum had left behind in the stage-section of the [Grand Theatre]. The female Hob was sniffing at it.<\/p>\n Mrsha didn\u2019t respond. She turned her head to the wall. She heard Ulvama unscrewing the jar, tasting it, spitting, and then muttering as she put some on her arm.<\/p>\n Shuffle, shuffle.<\/em> Mrsha wished the Hobgoblin would go.<\/em> She was the only moving thing in the inn.<\/p>\n Lyonette was gone. Selys came by.<\/p>\n The inn did get visitors. Lyonette had asked so many to take care of Mrsha. And they tried. Oh\u2014they did try.<\/p>\n \u201cI got her to eat a bite. Mrsha? Won\u2019t you have another? Okay, I\u2019ll be back. Ishkr, see if you can get her to take another\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Selys came every day. She\u2019d been coaxing Mrsha to eat, without knowing that the Gnoll usually spat out the food after a single begrudging bite.<\/p>\n The assigned people were Selys, Ishkr, Drassi to some extent, Rose, Kevin, and Pawn. But Pawn was absent, preparing Antinium for war. Selys came as often as she could and she and Ishkr did their best. So did Rose and Kevin, when they were here, Rose more often than Kevin since she wasn\u2019t fully employed. They all watched out for Mrsha most of all.<\/p>\n But if they compared notes, they might realize that the food Mrsha was \u2018eating\u2019 was never eaten in front of them. They would get her to have a bite, put the plate down and have to do something.<\/p>\n Then it would be empty, the bowl cleaned. They would smile and be reassured. What they didn\u2019t notice was in the five minute gap to go to the outhouse, or stretch their legs or talk to someone, Mrsha would throw it into the [Garden of Sanctuary] and the Fortress Beavers would eat.<\/p>\n Mrsha\u2019s stomach growled. She ignored it. She closed her eyes. She didn\u2019t need to eat. She didn\u2019t deserve to eat. She was a bad Gnoll. A bad\u2014<\/p>\n Crunch, crunch, crunch.<\/em> Mrsha\u2019s ears picked up the sound. She smelled\u2014saw Ulvama walking out of the kitchen with a huge bowl of chips and dip. It was fresh; nothing went bad in the inn, even with Erin on ice.<\/p>\n More growling, but Mrsha had learned you stopped getting hungry if you were too hungry. She\u2019d forgotten that. It was like when everyone had left the first time. But then Lyonette had\u2026<\/p>\n She buried her face in her fur and tried to go back to the half-sleep trance. Covered her ears as the crunching grew louder and the Hobgoblin smacked<\/em> her lips. She\u2019d appeared at the end of the Summer Solstice, through the magic door. Mrsha didn\u2019t like her.<\/p>\n No, that wasn\u2019t right. She had thought nothing of Ulvama until today. The Hobgoblin had been sneaking around for days. But suddenly\u2014she had decided to pick on Mrsha. First it was staring, then poking Mrsha and scuttling backwards. Then\u2014she\u2019d started kicking<\/em> Mrsha and doing this!<\/p>\n Ulvama was a bad Goblin. Rude. She kicked Mrsha, poked her, when Mrsha just wanted to\u2014<\/p>\n \u201cHm. Hmm.\u201d<\/p>\n The Hobgoblin put the chip bowl on the table where Mrsha was lying and then put one of the dip-bowls on Mrsha\u2019s head. She balanced it there as the Gnoll remained motionless.<\/p>\n Mrsha didn\u2019t move. She refused to. She heard more crunching, and then the Hobgoblin began dipping chips in the salsa-bowl on Mrsha\u2019s head.<\/p>\n At that point Mrsha rolled herself and the salsa over. It spilled onto the table and Ulvama made a sound of annoyance. Some got onto Mrsha\u2019s fur. She stayed still. She waited\u2014<\/p>\n Crunch.<\/em> After a second, Ulvama adjusted her seat and began mopping up the spilled salsa with the chips. The tables were clean, after all. You could eat your dinner off them.<\/p>\n The crunching got to be too much after a while. So Mrsha got up, and padded away. She slunk downstairs, and hid behind a barrel. She was d\u2014<\/p>\n \u201cCold!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Ulvama shouted after a minute. Mrsha jumped.<\/em> The Hobgoblin came down the stairs, wide-eyed, licking some ice cream.<\/p>\n \u201cThis sweet. This good!\u201d<\/p>\n She pronounced, looking around for Mrsha. The Gnoll hid behind a barrel, wishing the Hobgoblin would explode. Ulvama looked around for Mrsha. Her eyes glowed in the darkness.<\/p>\n Ulvama was a Hobgoblin. Not like Numbtongue; in fact, different in every way as a Hobgoblin could be. It wasn\u2019t body size so much as attitude.<\/p>\n She wasn\u2019t a fat<\/em> Hob like some were. But she wasn\u2019t exactly a lithe Hobgoblin warrior who trained\u2014or had trained\u2014daily in rigorous workouts. She was well-fed. Also\u2014a [Shaman].<\/p>\n Her body was adorned with more colorful, glowing paints than even a Redfang and she carried a staff. She also dressed in what Lyonette called \u2018scandalous\u2019 attire. Mrsha thought it was close to a Plain Gnoll\u2019s outfit, minus the fur.<\/p>\n She was also rude, mean, and she didn\u2019t leave Mrsha alone. Ulvama looked around the basement.<\/p>\n \u201cStupid white sad Gnoll? Where are you?\u201d<\/p>\n Mrsha didn\u2019t respond. Ulvama grunted. She adjusted the bowl, and then tapped her staff on the ground.<\/p>\n \u201c[See Heat].\u201d<\/p>\n Her eyes flashed<\/em> crimson in the darkness. She turned\u2014and spotted Mrsha at once.<\/p>\n \u201cThere. Stupid Gnoll. Stupid Gnoll\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n She poked Mrsha with the edge of her staff. Mrsha glared up at her. Ulvama pointed at the ice cream in the bowl.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere more this?\u201d<\/p>\n Go away.<\/em> Mrsha glared. Ulvama poked her again.<\/p>\n \u201cThis. More of this. Where?\u201d<\/p>\n The Gnoll refused to respond. Sh\u2014<\/p>\n Poke, poke.<\/em> Ulvama, like annoying children or people everywhere, refused to give up.<\/em> On the eighth poke, Mrsha grabbed the staff\u2019s tip and snarled silently. Ulvama, undeterred, simply dragged Mrsha out of cover.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere more sweet stuff?\u201d<\/p>\n Mrsha ran off. She raced up the stairs, into the common room, and then\u2014up the stairs again. Into hers and Lyonette\u2019s room. She pushed the latch on the door, hid under the bed.<\/p>\n Doom.<\/em> After a few seconds, she heard someone come up the stairs. A mutter\u2014then a knock.<\/p>\n \u201cStupid little Gnoll. Mrsha-child.\u201d<\/p>\n Ulvama tried the door. It was locked. She called out again. Mrsha ignored her. Now she could\u2014<\/p>\n Click.<\/em><\/p>\n The latch slid back and the door opened. Ulvama walked in.<\/p>\n \u201cLittle smelly Gnoll\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n This time Mrsha attacked. Furiously. How dare Ulvama come in here! She lunged out from under the bed and\u2014<\/p>\n The Hobgoblin bonked Mrsha with the staff as the Gnoll ran into it, then put her foot on Mrsha\u2019s back. She held down the outraged, squirming Gnoll, and looked around.<\/p>\n \u201cOoh. Stick here.\u201d<\/p>\n Webs shot from her staff and immobilized Mrsha! The Gnoll struggled as she was covered by a spell. She saw Ulvama walk over to a dresser and immediately open it. She began rummaging through Lyonette\u2019s clothing! Pulling out everything, discarding what she didn\u2019t like\u2014<\/p>\n Mrsha began snarling and tearing at the webbing, but it just stuck even more. Ulvama chortled for ten whole minutes until the spell began to dissipate. Then she shouted<\/em> as Mrsha bit<\/em> her leg.<\/p>\n \u201cAaah! Stupid Gnoll girl!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n She smacked<\/em> Mrsha on the head. Mrsha let go; it wasn\u2019t a heavy blow, and jumped back. She had blood in her mouth. She snarled as Ulvama raised her staff. The Hobgoblin chased after Mrsha\u2014<\/p>\n And Mrsha ran into a wall. Into a place beyond. The Hobgoblin [Shaman] lunged and smashed<\/em> into the invisible barrier. Mrsha stood in the Garden of Sanctuary and listened to the cursing and shout of pain with bitter satisfaction.<\/p>\n It did not last. Mrsha\u2019s head turned. She looked towards the hill with the mists. And there, a guardian before that place\u2026<\/p>\n The Hobgoblin with the sword. The crystal-metal blade gleamed. He was as empty as her.<\/p>\n But he had eaten. He ate mechanically, as if only to keep this strength for danger. He sat, empty.<\/p>\n Slowly, the little Gnoll crept up the hill. Numbtongue saw Mrsha come. She hesitated; but she was afraid to go beyond. It was too sad.<\/p>\n So Mrsha approached. Numbtongue watched her; then looked past. The Hobgoblin [Shaman] was banging on the door at the far end of the garden, far below. She hammered, shouted\u2014then gave up and stormed off in a huff.<\/p>\n Mrsha approached. She looked at Numbtongue. Her big brother. He said nothing. Did nothing.<\/p>\n Slowly, almost shyly, afraid, she leaned against him. She wanted him to say something. Even if he was mad. She looked up\u2014<\/p>\n His face was blank. He didn\u2019t respond. Mrsha leaned against him for a while. That made her feel b\u2014<\/p>\n Numbtongue moved and she fell over. He went to sit further up the hill. Mrsha looked at him. She had tried this very thing days ago. The same happened. He sat there, face half-grieving, half-frozen in a kind of bitter concentration.<\/p>\n Mrsha hung her head. She padded down the hill. Furry shapes went to cuddle her, but she<\/em> pushed them<\/em> away, like Numbtongue had done to her.<\/p>\n This place was too happy. She wanted a dark space to curl up. That evil [Shaman] was there, though. Mrsha left the hurt Fortress Beavers and changed the door\u2019s position.<\/p>\n Her room and Lyonette\u2019s.<\/em> No\u2014Erin\u2019s. It smelled of Erin, there. Mrsha sniffed and listened. She didn\u2019t hear<\/em> the Hobgoblin. She must have left after finding the door impossible to breach. Mrsha padded through the door.<\/p>\n \u201cAha! Got you, biting little Gnoll!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Two hands seized<\/em> her the instant Mrsha was through. The camouflaged Goblin came off the wall\u2014she\u2019d been in Erin\u2019s room, waiting for Mrsha! A trap!<\/em><\/p>\n Mrsha fought furiously. Her body was leaden and weak, but she had had enough! She twisted to bite\u2014<\/em>and Ulvama dropped her. Mrsha hit the floor and tried to scamper off, but she was so exhausted she was not her normal, quick self. She saw a shadow and moved\u2014but too late.<\/p>\n Ulvama sat<\/em> on Mrsha! Her big, huge, fat butt sat on the Gnoll\u2014not with all her weight, but pinning<\/em> Mrsha to the ground! She pinned Mrsha with her legs.<\/p>\n \u201cGot you, sly little stupid Gnoll. Always sly. Always throwing good food. Eh, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n Ulvama happily poked Mrsha in the side. The Gnoll snarled, twisted\u2014then abruptly, gave up. She went limp, lifeless. Let Ulvama do what she willed. Mrsha didn\u2019t care. She probably deserved it.<\/p>\n The [Shaman] eyed the limp Gnoll, pursing her lips. Well, the Gnoll was as tricky as some Goblin children or [Warriors]. But Ulvama had been [Shaman] to the greatest of Goblin tribes! Little children were no match for her<\/em> intellect.<\/p>\n \u201cHm. Little Gnoll, you hungry? I have meat. See?\u201d<\/p>\n She produced a sausage and warmed it with a spell. The meat smelled heavenly<\/em>. Mrsha refused to move or even blink.<\/p>\n \u201cOpen mouth.\u201d<\/p>\n Mrsha felt Ulvama poke her in the face. A finger tried to prize her jaw open; Ulvama had a slice of the meat ready to insert.<\/p>\n The Hobgoblin saw the mouth open and snap<\/em>. But her fingers were already jerking back. She saw Mrsha bite<\/em>\u2014then go limp.<\/p>\n \u201cHm. Okay, not good idea. How this?\u201d<\/p>\n The [Shaman] was actually enjoying herself as she spoke in a version of Goblin-cant. She thought, and then began to tickle<\/em> Mrsha.<\/p>\n \u201cTickle, tickle. Open mouth.\u201d<\/p>\n Mrsha tensed. She tried not to move as the Hobgoblin tickled her neck, her belly, and the pads of her paws. Then she wriggled<\/em>, fighting to get free. She couldn\u2019t\u2014but she refused to open her mouth, even when tears started leaking from her eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cStubborn.\u201d<\/p>\n Ulvama gave up in exasperation. Well, it was time for a trump card. She shrugged, adjusted her staff, and bonked<\/em> Mrsha lightly on the head.<\/p>\n When cleverness wouldn\u2019t work, use magic. That was a [Shaman] motto.<\/p>\n \u201c[Gnawing Hunger].\u201d<\/p>\n Mrsha\u2019s eyes snapped open. She heard the first growl<\/em> from her stomach so loudly that it seemed like a second animal inside her. Suddenly, her hunger pangs were back<\/em> and three times as overwhelming. She began to drool as Ulvama cooled the meat in one palm, then put it in front of Mrsha.<\/p>\n \u201cYou eat, you go. Deal? I can sit all day. Little Gnoll good pillow.\u201d<\/p>\n She grinned down at Mrsha. The Gnoll wanted to poke her in the stupid face! She was so hungry!<\/em><\/p>\n Who made spells that made you hungry!?<\/em> Only Goblins. Mrsha hesitated. But she was so\u2014and she couldn\u2019t get free.<\/p>\n The stomach overwhelmed even the sad brain\u2019s best efforts. Mrsha scarfed down the bit of sausage. Humming, Ulvama cut more with a knife and let Mrsha devour it piece by piece.<\/p>\n Mrsha hated that it tasted so good.<\/em> She hated Ulvama\u2014but she ate.<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s see. Sausage for Gnoll stomach\u2026not good to eat so much\u2026if I think about the starvation of Hobgoblin [Warriors]\u2014how much did I feed them during the siege? But that was vegetables, which fill you up\u2026do Gnolls eat vegetables? Tricky, tricky\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n The little Gnoll frowned as Ulvama thought to herself. She sounded\u2014smart there. As in, Numbtongue-smart, who could talk with big words. Was she pretending <\/em>to sound like other Goblins?<\/p>\n She was curious\u2014and then remembered she should be sad. Mrsha pushed<\/em> at Ulvama\u2019s legs. I ate! Let me go! She wanted to sign, but her arms were pinned.<\/p>\n \u201cNot yet. Little Gnoll eat this, too.\u201d<\/p>\n Ulvama put a cookie on the floor. Mrsha glowered. No!<\/em> Ulvama flicked<\/em> her forehead with a finger, ignoring Mrsha trying to snap and bite it.<\/p>\n \u201cGood sweet thing makes Gnoll girl happy. Stop pretending not to eat. I<\/em> see. I am not stupid. If little Gnolls dies, everyone is sad. Including not-dead Human, isn\u2019t that so?\u201d<\/p>\n She nodded to the open door. Mrsha\u2026hesitated.<\/p>\n Erin would be sad if she died?<\/em> A pang of guilt. She wasn\u2019t doing it on purpose! She spat on Ulvama\u2019s leg. The Hobgoblin narrowed her eyes. Deliberately, she wiped the spit off\u2014then used Mrsha\u2019s fur as a handkerchief! Mrsha wiggled in outrage.<\/p>\n \u201cYou spit on me, I wipe spit on you. Now, eat sweet thing. Wait\u2014maybe little Gnolls are allergic? Are Gnolls allergic? Why would there be food that is bad for little Gnolls here? No, no. It\u2019s fine. Eat.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Another tap<\/em> on the forehead with the staff. Ulvama was smirking as Mrsha glared.<\/p>\n The only warning the smug [Shaman] got was seeing Mrsha\u2019s<\/em> face suddenly turn to one of\u2026satisfaction. Ulvama looked up and heard the angry buzzing.<\/em><\/p>\n A bee<\/em> the size of her face came buzzing down like the wrath of\u2026bees. Ulvama shouted.<\/p>\n \u201cAah! What that!?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n She fled. Mrsha went scampering as Apista, who had likewise been in silent mourning, came to life. Ulvama ran about Erin\u2019s room, shouting, then whirled.<\/p>\n \u201cDie, bee!\u201d<\/p>\n She raised her staff. Mrsha tackled<\/em> her as Apista swerved out of the way.<\/p>\n No!<\/em> Mrsha grabbed for the staff. Ulvama shouted.<\/p>\n \u201cStupid Gnoll! We both<\/em> lose our eyes if I don\u2019t kill\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n She stopped, seeing Mrsha\u2019s desperately shaking head and frantic look. Ulvama lowered the staff, eyed Apista. The bee made her back up and it protectively hovered between her and Mrsha and then landed on the little Gnoll\u2019s head. Protectively, Mrsha grabbed her and hugged her as she backed away from Ulvama.<\/p>\n They disappeared into the [Garden of Sanctuary]. Ulvama\u2019s jaw closed after a second as the door slammed shut.<\/p>\n \u201c\u2026What?\u201d<\/p>\n But at least the little Gnoll had eaten something. Ulvama sighed. Stupid door. If she could get through it, she could take care of both<\/em> Mrsha-child and Numbtongue-idiot. It was getting in the way of her work!<\/p>\n Now, how to trap the Gnoll when she came back? If Ulvama smelled throw-up, she\u2019d have to make sure the little Gnoll didn\u2019t do it again. Not that she thought the Gnoll was that self-destructive. Good thing, too\u2026the [Shaman] hurried off to lay traps.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n —-<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Humans and inn. It was true most did not stay at the inn. The Gnolls of Liscor were considering their options.<\/p>\n Kevin was your first pick, obviously. Because he was Kevin. But because<\/em> he was Kevin, he was useful wherever. So was there a second-tier pick which was actually superior since they wouldn\u2019t be as missed?<\/p>\n No one wanted to give Krshia a headache, though. But still\u2026consider the options. Check the field.<\/p>\n And speaking of fields…as the sun rose, a young man jogged across the grass.<\/p>\n He had a headache. But he was moving quickly. Despair and activity alternated place with Joseph. He had a drinking problem. Yet what got him out of bed as soon as Kevin was responsibility.<\/p>\n Maybe it was a purpose. Maybe it was the conscience of knowing hopes and dreams rested on his shoulders.<\/p>\n Maybe it was because the team would drag him out of bed if he didn\u2019t make it to practice.<\/p>\n It could be any number of things, really.<\/p>\n Football\u2014real<\/em> football\u2014had a team of eleven players. But obviously, a team should be larger so they could be rotated in and out. And given how some people might have accidents, and those accidents could also be \u2018monster attack\u2019 in this world, thirty players were jogging after Joseph.<\/p>\n And that was only Liscor\u2019s team. And only the adults! The little leaguers were trying to follow, but Joseph had had them stop after only one \u2018lap\u2019 of Liscor. They had heart, but it was hard to keep up with adults and their parents would be upset if they pushed too hard.<\/p>\n Besides, they had practice all day. Joseph thought that was insane, but for these players?<\/p>\n The game was all. Mind you, he\u2019d<\/em> be going to Invrisil to coach a second team after lunch. But he started them off with the run. He panted, and then shouted, half-exasperated.<\/p>\n \u201cPick up the pace! Don\u2019t stop! This is the final lap!\u201d<\/p>\n Four laps around the city, each day. He had to stop drinking; it was miserable with a hangover and before breakfast. To drown out the pain, Joseph shouted the chant they\u2019d made up.<\/p>\n \u201cWhich city wins at every game?<\/em> Liscor!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLiscor!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n