Episode 44:
Brittle Steel
Vash juggled his sandwich as he tried to follow Corwin’s determined pace. He finally managed a bite halfway across the village square.
Vash thought, suppressing a moan of pleasure. He couldn’t remember the last time he had food that was fresh and of good quality.
Shoving down the wave of memories and the painful feelings that followed, Vash hurried his steps to catch up to Corwin. The big fighter was methodically devouring his sandwich as he walked. From his stone-faced demeanor, Vash doubted he even tasted it.
“So, are you going to tell me about these Wayfarer schools, or do I have to guess?” Vash asked, pausing for another bite. “If I have to guess, I don’t think it’s going to go well.”
Corwin shook his head, trying to clear away whatever thoughts were bothering him. “Sorry, Kurt always gets under my skin. The Schools are where you go for training within the Guild.”
“Combat arts, weaponry, damage reduction Talents, all of that falls under the School of Blades.” Corwin pointed to a set of low buildings just up the hill. “Master Casimir Stahl runs them here in Amical Falls. Stahl is a bit of a stick in the mud, and he’s never really liked me, mostly because he’s never liked Jabez. So his vote is likely to fall on the ‘no’ side. But he is a stickler for the rules and doesn’t like folks outside the Guild pushing us around. So, there’s a slim chance there.”
“Dungeoncraft, stealth, evasion, your basic rogue stuff is in the School of Delvers.” Corwin continued, pointing to a collection of small wooden houses on the eastern side of the village. “Master Lin Buckbael runs that side of things. She’s friendly enough, but from what I hear, she runs a tight crew. Guild Delvers have little patience for fools, very professional folk. Lin has a soft spot for outcasts and Vagabonds, though. So, we have a good chance with her.”
“Religion, blessings, healing arts, and purification Talents go to the School of the Wayward Path.” Corwin said, waving back towards the infirmary and the stone buildings that surrounded it. Now that Vash looked at them, several had the telltale octagonal shape of Pantheon temples.
“Sister Clea leads them, right?” Vash asked, taking another bite from his sandwich.
Corwin shook his head. “Sister Clea is in charge of the infirmary and the healers. The School itself is led by Brother Orban. He’s an Athairian, and a hard-ass.”
Vash’s lip twisted in distaste. Followers of Athair, Lord of the Pantheon and Father of the Temple, were sticklers for the letter of the law and not the spirit. They were capable administrators, but they could be difficult and rigid.
“So what are the chances that this Brother Orban is sympathetic to the plight of Vagabonds and assassins?” Vash asked.
“Slim.” Corwin admitted. “But it’s worth a try.”
Vash nodded, popping the last of his sandwich into his mouth while Corwin continued to educate him.
“Knowledge based Talents, and anything having to do with magic is in the School of the Broken Tower.” Corwin pointed to a hilltop structure on the far side of the temple buildings. It was a tapered, four-sided stone building that looked to be well-maintained. Vash opened his mouth to remark on this, but Corwin cut him off. “Don’t ask me why they call it the School of the Broken Tower. I’ve asked, and they told me to mind my own business. Mages are pretty rare in the Guild, since most of them prefer to work with the Collegium Arcanum, but we have some pretty good spell-slingers. The Broken Tower is a rotating duty, and right now I think it’s being manned by Master Astinak. I don’t know much about him, to be honest.”
“Then there’s the folk who like to spend all their time outdoors, rangers, beast-masters, druids, they are part of the School of the Wyld.” Corwin said, pointing to a thick knot of trees clustered around a timber cabin on the western edge of town. “No one can really puzzle out what the School of the Wyld is going to do at any point in time. Between you and me, they have a tendency to…enjoy certain natural substances a bit too much.”
Vash frowned. His experience with Vanan Rangers colored his opinions on the profession. “Any idea who we’d be talking to over there?”
“Normally it would be Master Heggin.” Corwin said. “He’s a druid and communing with the trees seems to be his main pass-time. But, Master Rowan came south a few weeks ago, so that complicates matters.”
“How so?”
“Rowan would be a Grandmaster if he was willing to put down roots in Orus Solas.” Corwin said. “But he likes the field too much. So, he’s the ranking master at the School of the Wyld. If he wanted to, he could take the vote in Heggin’s place.”
“Is that something we want?” Vash asked. He didn’t like all these variables.
“Maybe?” Corwin said, wolfing down the last of his sandwich. “He and Jabez know each other from way back in the day. Whether that’s a good thing…”
Corwin gave an expansive shrug.
“Is there anyone who likes Jabez?” Vash asked, rubbing his eyes.
“Oh sure,” Corwin said. “But he’s an acquired taste and takes a while to get used to. Most folk don’t stick around that long.”
Vash nodded, taking this in.
Brooding in silence, Vash barely noticed that they had arrived at the squat stone buildings that Corwin had pointed out as the School of the Blades. There were seven buildings, each with wide double-doors that were thrown wide open to the warm, sunny day. Vash recognized the fighting squares staked out around the buildings. White stone, rather than chalk powder or sticks, marked the squares. A few men and women were sparring in the squares, wooden training swords making a staccato clack-clack sound. Vash spotted a line of apprentices watching a grizzled warrior in shirtsleeves going through a sword form in a grassy yard on the edge of the compound.
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Vash thought he recognized the first few motions of the sword form. An aggressive style used by Skjal mercenaries, good for the heavy weapons that they favored.
Vash thought. .
A pulse of mana vibrated in Vash’s Core, causing him to look again. The master teaching the lesson used a Talent to increase his strength. The sword form became much quicker and lighter, but still would deliver devastating power to the target.
Corwin glanced over at what Vash was staring at. “It’s a pretty good trick, isn’t it?”
Vash nodded, not wanting to admit how dead he would be against a ‘trick’ like that.
“C’mon, Master Stahl likes to hold court in the central practice yard on days like this.” Corwin said, angling around the first of the stone buildings.
Vash followed in silence, taking in the various warriors who were training in the yard. They were fast, fluid, and strong. Several were off in one part of the yard, smashing boulders into pebbles using great hammers. Another group lifted the great rocks from a pile on one side of the yard and carried them to the group with the hammers. It took Vash a minute to realize what was bothering him about what these people were doing.
“That’s not possible.” Vash said quietly. “They shouldn’t be able to do that.”
Corwin looked over at him. “What?”
“They aren’t using Talents for that, are they?” Vash asked, tilting his head toward the training warriors.
“No, of course not. Why would they?” Corwin said, looking slightly confused.
Vash looked dubiously at a tall human with a slender, wiry build. He lifted a boulder with a slight grunt of effort, but then carried it easily across the yard with no great strain.
“Oh, I see,” Corwin said, understanding blooming on his face. “They’ve all locked mana into their strength attribute. It gives them a permanent boost to their base strength.”
“You can do that?” Vash asked, surprised.
“Didn’t you learn that from your teacher?” Corwin asked, concerned.
“No, I didn’t even know it was possible.”
Corwin frowned. “It’s something we’re taught as we progress. Some Talents require a certain base attribute. Almost all the Talents taught in the School of the Blades require us to have a high strength attribute.”
Vash wanted to ask more, but he could see they were coming up to the central yard. A knot of warriors in a diverse collection of armor milled around a line of benches in the shade of the largest of the school’s buildings.
At the center of this knot was a middle-aged man with iron gray hair, shot through with streaks of white. His weathered face showed several scars. One, a long, puckered line from brow line to chin, stood out starkly on his weathered face. The man wore a scratched and dented breastplate over a heavy leather jerkin and a thick, dark iron chain hanging around his neck. Vash guessed that this was Casimir Stahl, judging by the way the other warrior Wayfarers clustered around him.
As the knot parted, Vash could sense Corwin tense up next to him. Next to Stahl stood a lithe, muscular man in a scale-mail hauberk. The man had sharp features like a hawk, dark, glittering eyes, and thick black hair tied back in a long braid that hung to his shoulders. His defining feature, however, was his left hand, which ended in a sharp-edged hook. The hook’s gold plating concealed a steel inner edge, obviously sharpened to a razor’s edge. It glinted wickedly in the morning sunlight.
. Vash thought as they approached. Stahl was laughing at something that Logan said, as were the other fighters gathered around the two masters.
“ — they said they were down to the dregs of their life force, running on nothing but prayers and luck.” Logan said, his voice a gruff baritone. “You would think that with Jabez’s history, he would have prepared better for an expedition into the Underlands. No supplies and a pair of unprepared apprentices. I just know that, had it been me, I wouldn’t have gotten us in that situation.”
There were murmurs of agreement from the others, including Master Stahl.
. Vash thought, careful to keep a step back from Corwin.
“What situation would that be, Master Logan?” Corwin called out as they neared the group. “Really, I’m quite eager to hear your advice, since you know all about what happened.”
Heads swiveled in their direction. Some looked guilty, others were simply curious. Stahl favored the two new arrivals with a tight-lipped frown. Logan smiled wolfishly, his eyes sharp with a predatory gleam.
“Corwin!” Logan said, like he was greeting an old friend. “Wonderful to see you again, my boy. How long has it been?”
“Highstone, six months ago.” Corwin said. “When Jabez and I had that run in with the Knights of the Gryphon. Someone told them we had been smuggling elemental cores out of the sky islands. Of course we hadn’t, but you try telling enraged fanatics riding half-bird, half-lions that they made a mistake.”
“Ah, yes, bad bit of business, that,” Logan said, shaking his head ruefully. “I don’t recall if they ever caught the person responsible.”
Corwin gave Logan a tight-lipped smile. “You know, I heard nothing more about it after we left. One of those mysteries, I suppose.”
Vash sighed inwardly. lot
Stahl cleared his throat and stepped towards Vash and Corwin. “As much as I hate to interrupt old comrades catching up, I think these two young men are here for a reason?”
Vash kept his features schooled, but inside he was fuming. He glanced over at Corwin, who was giving Master Stahl a deferential half-bow.
“You’re both Master Jabez Ironbiter’s apprentices, correct?” Stahl said, his deep voice had the scratchy rasp that came from barking commands through noisy melee’s. “Got roped into that nasty business down in Sathsholm? That was a cluster of poor decisions from start to finish.”
Stahl shook his head, like the thought was something irritating him. Finally, his slate-gray eyes alighted on Vash and his face turned stony.
“We are, Master.” Corwin said, with the right measure of respect. “We’ve met before, I’m Corwin Walker. Let me introduce my friend, Vash Ballard.”
Stahl gave Corwin a quick, dismissive look. “I remember.”
“I’d hoped we could have a private word?” Corwin continued, though he sounded less sure of himself.
“That won’t be necessary.” Stahl said with a dismissive wave of one hand. “We’ve all heard about Sir Jacen Glauch’s to the Council.”
“I was hoping,” Corwin continued. “That we might convince you to lend us your support tomorrow.”
Stahl barked a laugh. “Why would I do that?”
“After hearing our story,” Corwin pressed on, undeterred. “I’m sure you’ll take our side and see why this is just persecution on Sir Jacen’s part.”
Vash tried to suppress a wince.
Stahl regarded Corwin coldly for a moment. “Do you know how much work the Dukes of Galadon give to the Guild? Not to mention the Lodges we maintain in their towns and cities? To accuse a peer of such actions…”
He trailed off, but Vash could hear the anger rising in his voice.
Corwin obviously could as well, since he stopped talking and simply stared at Master Stahl.
“I warned Jabez, the first time he brought you to Amical Falls,” Stahl said, his voice hard. “Told him that the Vagabond Law was an archaic practice, best left to legends and bard’s songs. Now he’s taken in not only one Vagabond, but a second, and that second is an unrepentant murderer. I don’t know what you think a Wayfarer is, Corwin Walker, but in the Guild I joined all those years ago, that—” Stahl pointed at Vash. “—is the enemy. Not some pet project to assuage your guilty conscience.”
Silence hung over the yard. Corwin stood stock-still next to Vash, hands balled into fists.
Vash reached out and put a hand on Corwin’s shoulder. “Let’s go. There’s nothing we can do here.”
Stahl said nothing as Corwin and Vash turned to go. Every eye in the yard watching them retreat from the Master of Blades.
“Before you go…” Logan said as they walked away.
Vash looked back over one shoulder. Corwin stopped, but he didn’t look back.
“Since you’re going to lose your Wayfarer status tomorrow, I’d advise you to run tonight.” Logan said, in a tone like an old friend giving heartfelt advice. “But if you run, remember, I’ll be hunting you.”
Logan’s smile stayed with Vash long after he walked away.
