“Mother warned me adventurers always come to a bad end,” Morton muttered as he hurried away.
I couldn’t even disagree with the tiny fellow there, because my mom had told me the same thing.
The Outcasts were assembling in front of the tower. We were a motley bunch, ten strong—if we counted Trax, who was already ranging ahead—armed with a variety of spells—all low-level home brews—and weapons—most of which were cheap or improvised. We were all rank one or two, though I suspected several of us were due a promotion from having learned so many new spells over the last few months. I myself had picked up a few from the others, so I now knew a grand total of eight well enough to cast them on demand. Which I understood to be a very impressive number for a wizard of the lowly first rank. I just needed to find a tester willing to slum it long enough to prove I was worthy of the second.
There was no sign of our Latrocinium watcher. “Where’s Dathka?”
It was Danny who answered, “She went out this morning, said she needed to speak with some of her gang. She wasn’t here when you surprise-ordered us to leave early.”
Well, that absence was bloody inconvenient. The last thing I needed was Dathka thinking we were trying to give her the slip, but we couldn’t wait around for her to get back either. Carcalla would surely be angrier at getting no treasure at all than worried we’d shorted him some.
“I’ll leave a note for her. She can catch up.”
Bognar trotted over to me, wearing a cooking pot for a helmet. “Hey, Carnavon. We’ve got some visitors. They say they’re seeking to join the academy.”
Danny was there stuffing gear into a pack. “You should have them come with us, Mr. Carnavon. We really could use all the help we can get.” He laughed nervously. “There’s strength in numbers, right?”
Aspiring wizards who’d been turned away by the real academies would hear about us and sometimes come to check us out. Most of those didn’t stick around after seeing the nature of our arrangement or the quality of our living conditions. It took a special kind of desperation to join an academy without teachers, traditions, or resources, with the added bonus of getting to live in the dirtiest and most dangerous part of the city. Normally, potential new recruits would be good news, as that meant new knowledge and spells, but their timing was shit.
“Tell them to come back tomorrow.”
“Uh…” Bognar hesitated. “I’d rather not. They’re kinda scary. How about you be the one to tell them?”
“Scary?” That got me was curious. “Where?”
Bognar pointed toward the corner of the Tube, so I walked over to find a few strangers lounging around our neighbor’s chicken coop. From how these three looked, they would’ve made me suspicious on a normal day, but considering our peculiarcircumstances, I knew right away this had to be some kind of trick.
It was two humans and an orc. That alone wasn’t odd. Humans were the most common race in the Core, and since there was an enclave of them from just about every kingdom in the Core, I’d seen plenty of orcs too. It was everything else about them that told me they were trouble.
Most of our recruits were young. Both of the humans were several years older than me. I couldn’t tell orc ages, since they were green and wrinkly anyway, but this one had nearly as many scars as Krachma, and was almost as physically intimidating. Our recruits were all relatively inexperienced, because why else would someone come train with the likes of us? Except these three carried themselves like seasoned veterans who knew their way around a battlefield.
These three were giving me enough of a bad feeling that I sneakily pinched a bit of Red between my fingers as I approached.
It was the orc who must’ve been in charge, as he stepped in front of the others to address me. “I was told to look for the one in the cloak and hood. You Carnavon?”
“Yeah, that’s me. What can I do for you, gentlemen?”
“I am Gerzog. This is Hans.” The one who nodded was a squat muscular fellow with a shaved head. “And Aziz.” Who was tall and skinny with strange tattoos on his face. “We were told you’re taking in students to learn more magic. We all know some magic. We want to join up and become official wizards too.”
I had to crane my neck back to look Gerzog in the eyes. There was something about this orc that warned me I was dealing with a hardened killer.
“I’m afraid we’re not interviewing any applicants today.” Just in case they weren’t thieving scum trying to attach themselves to our outfit to steal our treasure because they’d been tipped off bystupid Rufus, I added, “You can come back next week, and I’ll be happy to show you around.”
“Why wait? We join now.”
All of our other recruits were poor and meager of resource. These three had well-worn rugged clothing, but of quality, and their gear was squared away. They all wore swords, daggers, and pistols of obviously decent quality, and I spotted at least one wand. Cheap wands weren’t that rare, but nice ones were. Even Danny had made a wand, but his enchantment was weak, and it had been placed on a stick. The one named Aziz had a fancy bronze wand stuck through his belt, set up for a quick draw like I had my pistol. The end of his wand was in the shape of a grasping hand.
“Nice back scratcher.”
Aziz sneered at me. “It’s more of a neck breaker.”
“It’s a strong spell,” Gerzog growled. “I heard the cost to join up is but a spell. We got spells like that to share. Good ones.”
“I bet. You look pretty experienced to want to become students.”
“I’m rank three,” Gerzog spoke with confidence. “These two were born twos. It’s hard to climb much past that on your own.”
He was right about that, but I didn’t for a second think pursuing education was what had brought them here today. I’d been a good trapper. All trappers knew when to listen to our paranoia. “We’ll have to discuss it later. We’ve got something important going on today, fellas.”
