Ch: 05 A Hungry Ghost

Dawn on festival day was a bright and sunny affair and Gary felt good.

He had a scheme on the boil to cook Liam’s goose, sauce Aisha’s gander and generally serve them up to the romance hungry populace of Wheatford.

‘Their sacrifice for the greater good will be remembered fondly’ He eulogized them in his mind, as he placed the tiny rocking chair and the other horses among the chairs of the pensioners before skulking away.

Liam did look sharp. Gary made sure to stand on his left as they walked to the fountain, where Gary was to meet up with Trelawney.

Gary spotted the two women ahead dressed for the festival and waiting as planned. He was distracted briefly from his own tete a tete, by his schemes. Aisha was radiant in watered silk spraying in a rainbow from her left side. Smugly Gary admired the craft and the effect.

When Liam stood by her it was breathtaking, neither one noticed for a long moment, caught up in shyly greeting each other. His dull jet black and gleaming prism showered rainbows across her dress in a breathtaking display.

Liam had no idea Aisha would be chaperoning Trelawney, the perfect trap. Now there was nowhere but beside Liam that she could stand without ruining the effect of her robes.

That long moment of self congratulation was costly, he felt a raw shiver in his soul as he remembered that he was also meeting someone.

He turned to Trelawny and his blood ran cold. Ringlets the color of good honey, golden cheeks, green eyes with a haunted look of quiet fury. It was the dark robed goonette from Otho’s welcoming party.

“Acolyte Trelawney.” Gary declaimed in the way Jennah had instructed. “An it please the spirits and the gods, may I have the pleasure of your company this day?” Finishing with a sweeping bow.

On his way back up from his bow, Gary took her in for the first time. Dainty feet in traditional sandals of olivewood and leather, dark green wide pants, not unlike his, they looked like windswept grass on a hillside.

Just like his… at the waist her robes transitioned to pale and then cobalt blue… on her left side, growing from the green of her waist was a bronze, copper and brass maple tree, windblown leaves like stars scattering off her shoulder and across… his. Doomed.

Just like Aisha and Liam, their outfits were distinctly fine and elegant, but once seen together they only made sense together. Side by side they were a windswept maple on a hillside, scattering its leaves across a dark sky. It was beautiful, poetic even, a work of art. A trap.

He’d played himself. Knowing the bitter taste of betrayal, he bowed again to Tawny and escorted her away from the conflagration he had started around Liam and Aisha. That at least, was going to plan.

Tawnys soft voice rang from beside him, musical and sweet, “That was nice, what you did for Aisha.” she squeezed his hand softly. “What you did to Liam was cruel though.”

Gary laughed his best evil villain laugh. “Liam will curse the day he ate snacks while I was humiliated,” Gary’s upraised voice and fist were theatrical, drawing eyes in the morning bustle. Pitching his voice in a sinister whisper he carried on. “He may think my vengeance is complete, fool! Hahhahhahahha!”

Tawny whispered something inaudible and Gary felt a wash of cool rush over him. “Tawny, did you just try to cure madness on me or something?” Gary asked.

Looking up, she replied, “An acolyte of Blessed Healer never lies.” and smiled smugly. They laughed together and went off to enjoy the festival.

“...That’s why our robes match up, your sister took my scheme and played a double cross on everyone.” Gary was glad to get it out in the open.

Besides, Tawney was cute, funny and her dimples were lethal at close range. Her voice though, was a liquid, bell-like, shimmering jewel.

As afternoon shadows began to lengthen, they were in the orchards, on a bench by the river, enjoying the afternoon cool. Tawny asked in a soft tone; “Gary, that song you played, by the fountain… play it again for me. Please?”

Gary panicked, fumbling out his mandolin, in desperation he started Stairway To Heaven.

Her gentle, tiny hand stilled his with a quiet urgency. “No, the one about love, I think I need to hear it again.”

So he did.

Not Tina Turner’s bold, fierce battlecry, but a soft and longing tune, sad, but still defiant. When he finished she was leaning on his shoulder softly crying.

“Everyone knows what Jakob did, I feel like a fool.” She whispered. Gary didn’t say anything, just started playing a sad, haunting melody.

I feel so unsure, as I take your hand

and lead you to the dance floor…

Careless Whispers, did its magic, leaving her a sobbing mess.

He hit all the great torch songs, Wicked Game was the final straw. She ran out of tears and was getting the heavies. Those terrible wracking dry sobs that shake every part of you.

Now to bring this back around he took a page from his mother’s book and sang softly, while playing a sweet lullaby melody;

I wanna rock

I wanna rock

I wanna rock

Turn it down you say,

But all I got to say to you is, time and time again I say No!

No, No Nono NO!...

Before long she had cried herself out, slept a little on his lap and woken hungry.

She guided him among the stalls and vendors unerringly finding the most delightful treats. They gorged themselves on fried dough, frozen fruits, skewered meats and confections with complicated backstories filled with detailed lore that was lost on him. Tasty though.

As darkness fell, Gary dropped an exhausted Tawny off at her home and staggered off to his own bed.

It was only as he was climbing into bed that he realized he was in the orphanage. Gary wanted to believe it was just him being tired, but he could still feel his house, off in the distance, empty.

This place was not empty, this was a home now, as much as his head wanted to deny it, his heart believed. He slept and dreamed of simple things.

A knock woke him, it was still full dark and Gary had no clue of the time. Outside his door was Liam. Still dressed in his robes and looking exhausted.

“I am going to kill you Gary, and then I will murder Jennah.” He mumbled without conviction.

Gary wiped a bright coral pink smudge from Liam’s cheek with his thumb and held it up for the man to see. “Hmm, It appears suspiciously like cosmetics, Dr Watson!” Gary mumbled in a really shitty Sherlock Holmes impression.

“The very shade the victim, Miss Aisha was wearing when last seen unkissed.” Gary peered theatrically at his friend and pointed. “You sir, are the guilty party. Case closed.”

Liam collapsed on Gary’s bed with a sigh. “What am I going to do?”

Gary gave a wicked grin, a broad wink and declared; “If you need my advice there, you are in deep trouble bro. You probably didn’t notice, since Aisha is too hot to ignore…”

Gary's own pillow thumped into his face, cutting him off. “...but Jennah set the same trap for Trelawney and I. That girl is trouble, Liam.”

“Such a devilish scheme. Her grandmother probably dreamed it up, diabolical old witch.” Liam grumbled.

“Yeah, I bet that's where she got it…” A sweating Gary enthused.

“I should go to the Tailors Guild and make a formal complaint!” A light Gary did not like was burning behind Liam’s eyes. “Weaponizing a sacred festival for their tawdry marriage games… perhaps a complaint at the temple…”

Desperately, Gary tried to slow this runaway train, he had no confidence that Jennah would conceal his part in the plan. “I thought you had a good time today?” A now profusely sweating Gary asked.

“Are you well Gary? You seem distraught, perhaps something weighs on your mind… a burden of GUILT!?”

The accusing finger Liam thrust forward jabbed uncomfortably in Gary’s chest.

Shamefaced, Garry confessed, claiming he had stolen the idea from a play from his homeworld. Some concepts were too complex to discuss in the middle of the night.

“The Marriage Games have gotten out of hand over these last few years.” Liam complained while soaking in Gary’s hot spring. They were both too agitated and excited to sleep and Liam had been trying to get an angle on Gary’s bath since he had seen it on the “nickel tour”.

When Gary had mentioned taking a walk and bathing at his house, he had pounced. Shared bathing was not something Gary was comfortable with, but Liam was relentless.

They floated in companionable silence for a while after that, thinking their own thoughts. “Aisha shure is great though…” Gary murmured. “Smart, funny, looks super hot in silken robes… What else do you want?”

Liam returned fire; “Tawny though, she will become a priestess of Healer in two years. That makes her the catch to catch at your age.”

Liam turned serious. “You cannot catch her though, any more than I can hold Aisha. We are orphans, Gary. Bound to the old law. Will she wait, can I ask her to?”

Gary sat up, focusing on Liam. “Bro, don't wait, don't ask her to wait. I am an expert on waiting, Liam. I did enough waiting and ‘just getting through today’ for a lifetime.” With a fierce smile Gary raised a clenched fist from the steaming pool.

“Grab life by the ballsack and twist freindo, cause it won’t wait for you.”

“You really are a poet Gary, what happened to ‘gather ye, rosebuds’? Taken from another play?” He grinned. “Poem actually. Wow, you really listen when people talk, Aisha picked a winner!”

Liam was dressed in some of Gary’s clothes, ridiculously large on him, as they wandered through the still surprisingly active streets.

The festival would take a more serious and religious turn the next day, and those directly involved with the cult of Healer would be busy in the temple quarter, leaving the rest of the town to get just a little rowdy.

Liam explained that each month had a festival for the god or spirit associated with that month. Day one was family oriented and good clean fun, day two was for the faithful to gather in the temple and worship.

Those faiths with fewer adherents spawned bigger events on day two, while larger and more popular cults resulted in more subdued happenings. Healer was second only to Joy in Her popularity with the general public, and almost as permissive when it came to Her celebrations.

The result was a two day, family friendly, easy going, town wide party. He had no plans for day two and was hoping he might bump into Tawny by chance.

He would be avoiding Tawny’s neighborhood, Jennah and the whole tailor’s guild like the plague until things got settled. Whatever that might turn out to be.

Orphans, it turned out, were considered members of all the city’s accepted cults, but were required to attend none of their worships. A good compromise to Gary’s mind. But then he had no existing religious affiliation, his family had been firmly agnostic.

Gary walked to his shop and strolled past the confused locals with a friendly wave. He unlocked, sat on the porch under an awning striped in green and tan and began to play. Noodling around in spanish guitar phrases, playing bits and snatches of songs from flamenco to bossanova.

Once he warmed up he went in and got to work finishing the ukuleles and drums. First bell gave way to second before he went upstairs, nobody had come in while he was working.

“Building a new business takes time I guess” he snarked at himself, as he locked up and waved to the neighbors again.

Pockets! Stuffed with toys he headed back up to the orphanage to make everyone’s life a little noisier.

Most of the residents of the Adventurer’s Guild compound were on the porch discussing the mysterious new additions when Gary strolled up.

There had been little doubt as to where they had come from, most debate centered on whether Liam or Otho had put Gary up to it.

The sassy little rocking chair led most, directly to the Otho theory.

Liam’s denials were ignored by his adherents, mostly Ivy. Gary suspected she had a little crush on Liam and was getting some kicks in while the getting was good.

When pressed, Gary looked significantly at Liam and then protested his ignorance of the whole matter.

The rocking horses were a hit with the kids and the geezers, while the flutes, drums and ukuleles disappeared too quickly to be certain who had them.

His seeds of chaos planted, Gary wandered off looking for more trouble.

Trouble found him.

He was dressed in one of the new outfits, they fit and moved so well it was a revelation, he was never going off the rack again. Engrossed in the clothes, the crowd and the food he did not realize he was being pursued until too late.

Cornered in a shop doorway Jennah pressed in menacingly. “Trelawney cried all night, Gary.” She whispered. “She was still crying this morning. She said you touched her… in ways she had never felt… Gary.” Her eyes were flinty and cold.

He tried to sputter out a protest, declare his innocence, when she relaxed and drew back. “Trelawney is really vulnerable right now. When you showed up, new in town I thought I could use you to pull her out of her despair, I'm sorry.”

She smiled sadly, “You did so much more than I'd hoped, that I feel a little guilty now.” Her eyes narrowed again. “If you hurt her, I will still destroy you boy.”

As quickly as she had appeared, Jennah was gone. “I Just want to make music…” he pleaded to an uncaring sky.

The festival was still exciting and everything was new, but alone it was just not quite as interesting. Wandering down by the river docks, where shallow bottomed trade barges tied up every day or two.

He sat down on a piling and started to play his flute over the empty river bank

Not long later, he felt a soft tread on the dock and Tawny settled in beside him, close but not touching. “I was upset with Jennah when she told me I was stuck showing you the festival.” She sighed.

“I was on duty when Irdall came in, slashed and beaten half dead. Then you were so mean to poor old Otho and your house was creepy.” She sagged against him. “When I heard you playing in the square I thought you were a fool.”

He kept playing softly, it felt right.

“When you sang about ‘second hand emotions’ I thought my heart was tearing in two… and yours.” She was trembling slightly. “What I want from you, is to be your friend Gary, I need that, and I think you need it too.”

Gary choked back a sob, “Ohh thank god!”

He barely registered her snort of displeasure before he was floating down river, ribs aching from a well placed elbow.

“Jennah says she will help me make you fit for human company, I’m not sure it's possible though.” She called from the dock while he swam after his flute.

Soaked, confused and generally miserable, Gary took the short walk to his house to get bathed and change.

On the doorstep stood Liam, a basket of toiletries on his arm and a towel draped across his shoulders. “Bathtime?” He asked the muddy dripping mess.

Later, in the bath He complained to Liam; “...right into the river, flute and all!” Gary grumbled “She was cutting me loose, right?”

Liam was sitting at the edge of the pool, his smirk hidden below the green tinted water. He rose just enough to speak. “Healer’s adherents are forbidden to draw blood, even in defense… lucky for you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“He means” Otho said, bobbing to the surface like a forgotten corpse. “That expressing your relief at her dismissal was a slight many women would have drawn blood over.”

They both jumped halfway out of the pool in surprise. “Otho!” they shouted together “What the hell man?!” Gary blurted, while Liam’s “Gods above!” Was still echoing in the bath.

Otho just floated there, completely at ease. “Priest Otho,” Gary began carefully. “Why are you in my bath? Why are you naked?” Otho smiled beatifically and sighed his answer softly. “Because it brings joy, Gary.”

He took a deep breath and tried again “Priest Otho, Beloved of Cowl, the Joyful One, finding you naked in my bath does not bring joy.

Otho looked surprised. “Gary, being naked in your bath brings ME joy, do try to keep up with the important things.”

Liam Laughed at Gary, Otho laughed at them both and Gary decided he needed a more secure bath or better friends.

Otho, draped in one of Gary’s conjured robes, and the two freshly dressed young men were looking around Gary’s shopfront.

Otho took down the shamisen, tuned it up and played a few bars of something stormy and windswept, before hanging it back on its peg.

“Very nice,” he said, strumming the one Uke Gary had kept in the shop. “Will all your instruments be mundane Gary?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know enough right now. I plan to get into the college and learn a few tricks.” He laid a challenging look on Otho. “Whether or not that interferes with anyone else’s plans and schemes.”

Otho was unflappable tonight. “My schemes are many and varied Gary, I have a number of pots on the boil. Ready to plunge into one?” His eyebrows bounced with vigor.

Gary leaned back, lounging in an upholstered chair he conjured just for the effect.

“I will Play along for now, Master Otho, sometimes walking into the trap is the only way through.”

Steepling his hands, Otho leaned closer. “And sometimes the way through is another trap…”

“Seeing the trap, knowing it is there can make all the difference…” Gary whispered dramatically.

“But is the trap you see truly real? Or an illusion?” Otho almost cooed.

Liam had enough. He seized the bell over the door and shook it wildly.

“Gary, we are going home, Master Otho, please respect Gary’s personal space.”

Gary stared at Liam, the primary bathtime infiltrator and gaped

Seeing his friend's face Liam huffed. “You invited me Gary, during the tour, you said ‘sure, come on over whenever’ when I mentioned how nice your bath was, remember?”

“Well from now on, I'm only saying that to cute girls!” Gary huffed.

“Good policy Gary!” Otho piped up from the living quarters, where he was searching for his clothing.

“We can’t have a bunch of sweaty old men lounging around in your bath… we should invite the two lovely ladies to…”

Liam and Gary walked back uptown to the orphanage while Gary’s house slowly dissolved around the distraught Otho.

“What happens to Otho if he can’t find his clothes before the house disappears?” Liam asked, faintly worried.

“No problem.” Gary replied, holding a bundle of fine green cloth out. “I took them as soon as I got out of the bath.”

Liam was visibly concerned. “Relax, he has a power like mine, that's how he snuck in on us anyway.”

Gary grinned evilly. “He can sneak back home in the dead of night like a weirdo. He has to live with that now. And knowing that we know.”

“You are a very strange person Gary.”

“Well, I’m a very strange person who has to get up early and re-summon his magic workshop tomorrow. G-night Liam.”

The first morning of his first full week in a new world was anticlimactic. Up before dawn, conjuring his house, now with fifty percent more bathing facilities.

He had no illusions about his friends respecting boundaries. He stopped at a bakery for fresh bread and something that looked like coffee smelled and tasted like coffee, but did nothing to wake him up at all.

Back to the orphanage for a second breakfast.

Gary had decided to get to work. He wanted to carve a place for himself, build a niche in this world to settle into. That would start today.

He had spent some time lying in bed, contemplating his gifts, he had explored them all systematically, except one.

Interface. He plowed into it, reading any messages related to it, digging deeper whenever he could. Finally he found what he was searching for, a skill tree.

When he closed his eyes, he could call it forward, a near limitless void filled with tiny bubbles. Most darkened, only a few, glowing like tiny stars. The dimmest were tailoring, parkour, cross country running and tanning. Cooking, tinkering and first aid were brighter, with his musicianship and woodworking skills gleaming nicely.

Tiny lines traced synergy and relationships between the skills in an impenetrable tangle of interconnections. Floating above them were the glowing points of his gifts, each one connected to different skills and aspects of his personal stats, also nestled in that impossible complex web.

There were no progress bars, numerical values or reference colors, just an innate sense of what was what and how it was.

He traced the line from woodworking to lumberjacking, it was tied in to his artisan gift, and would probably work just like his ability to harvest wild foods. Faster, better, and more returns, just like he liked it.

He traced that type of connection from his artisan gift and tracked down all of the resource gathering skills he could find.

Tagging them to highlight their connections. If he was looking at this right, he could pick up most of the resource gathering skills, like Mining, Fishing, Lumberjacking and Hunting quickly.

He had Gathering and a few related skills already. Apiculture, which dealt with bees and Poulterer, a chicken centric skill.

Those were already providing synergy with his other skills, refining and improving them passively. Meaning that when he gained skill in Cooking, Harvesting wild food improved, and when he Harvested wild food Cooking gained experience too.

That meant his woodworking skills were sharpening his musical skills, and lumberjacking would improve both at the baseline while also synergizing with both across each other.

He checked in on Tailoring and Tannery, yup, working together, and following that thread to Banjo class Percussive Stringed Instruments… yup, Synergy.

As Gary saw it, his biggest power move would be to take a week or two and learn at least novice level in each of those basic resource gathering skills, then a related, refining skill. As he moved through this world he would be growing steadily. He tried to look forward to what he would be at Otho’s age and wondered.

Liam pointed Gary to the woodcutters guild on the edge of the carpenters ward. Gary asked for work and got a bit of the expected ribbing from the rough and tumble crew.

Woodcutters headquarters was actually quite homey, a timber framed hall with comfortable chairs near the fire for the elders and benches near the bar for the younger crowd.

There were men and women, all dressed in sturdy knockabout working clothes. Stains of tree sap and stubborn dirt made them almost camouflage. They all gathered around a wicker wheel filled with wooden tokens.

As it spun, one token tumbled out to land in an artfully carved bowl shaped as a heavy laden ox, with the bowl forming the poor beast’s terrible burden, very portentous. The old man held up the token. “Triangle, blue.” Laughter, joyous whoops and pitiable groans filled the room.

That was how Adan, was put in charge of him for the day, he was a short, powerfully built man, still vigorous in his late sixties. With expansive gestures and a booming voice he seemed much larger than he was. The man with the blue triangle badge wound up being Gary’s “stupidvisor.” Gary held up a hand.

“Yes, I said what I meant. I’m here to keep you from winding up in the temple of the Blessed Healer, don't want her freshly sanctified hall polluted by the likes of you…”

They walked out together into the managed forest. A team of three donkeys following along placidly without tethers.

Out into the woods Adan would lead them to a marked tree. Talk briefly about its name, habitat, growing cycle and what it's wood’s properties were, then instruct Gary as he cut it down.

Honestly it was going quite well, Gary’s gift was making things tough for Adan though. Gary would touch the tree, get its description, then relax and let things happen naturally.

As he worked, occasionally Gary would find some limb or section of trunk exceptional according to his gift. The small items he just tucked away, the logs he marked with chalk he had brought along for just that purpose at Otho’s suggestion.

That was his day; march, cut, trim, saw, load, march repeat. By noon the mule team was dragging a sledge of cut lumber that was near capacity.

“All right, New Meat, you still have all twenty fingeez and toezies?” Gary did some spirited jazz hands to display the digits, which Adan also disapproved of, in the way he had worked harder disapproving than lumberjacking today.

When they dragged the load back to the lumber yard and untied, it was like Adan transformed into a new person.

“Come on Gary, we knocked off early thanks to you! What a kid! Hey, guys, the new kid Gary, he's got a gift!” “All right, Gary!” “Who's Gary?” “I think he's that guy in the sawmill” “He owes me six iron bits!”

“Adan, is this another one of those things where you bust my chops all day but then everything is cool?”

Adan stopped with frothing mugs of pear cider clenched in his fists. “This is Wheatford, Gary. Home of good beer, fine food, beautiful women, and men of cordial good manners. Of course I rode your ass like a rented mule.” He flopped down on a bench and motioned for Gary to join him. “Now sit down and shut up.”

As they ate a fine lunch and drank good pear cider, other teams came back to congratulations for the early returns and jeers for the latecomers.

“So now what do we do? More woodcutting?” Gary asked after a rather long lunch. Adan stared at him. “We do this.” he held up a freshly filled mug. “Until seventh bell then we go home.” “I think I might wander down to the sawmill Adan.” with a wave he was off.

If the woodcutter’s guild was relaxed, the sawmill and lumber yard were well organized and staffed. Each one wore a badge with a shape and a primary color. No doubt for the drawing of lots.

Gary gathered that the elders filled the wicker ball with the members' tokens, and then assigned those drawn until the day's work was allotted. The lucky ones lounged at the guild hall in case they were needed, or traded out with co-workers if they felt like getting their hands dirty today. It was all very civilized.

Gary was quickly taken in hand at the mill and guided around. Word that he had been properly hazed had been transmitted (gossiped) through some secret guild means (gossip) that the members were very mysterious about.

In short order the woman running the mill had totted up his day's work, and noted which logs he had an interest in. Her ledger was all in numbers, dates and leaf shaped icons to indicate species. Very clever.

It cost Gary a half copper mark to buy the four logs he had his eye on, about twice his day's wages before deducting lunch. It would cost that much again to have them dried in the magical kiln at the college.

He did a bit of math in his head and reckoned a half decent wood cutter could keep a roof over his head and a family of four fed, working three days a week. Not bad.

Gifts were the game changer, Adans gift was in handling those mules, they listened to everything he said and did whatever he asked like well trained employees. He treated them like coddled pets too. Gary’s mind drew a direct line to the kids in the orchard garden.

He took the opportunity to fondle some of the lumber that had seasoned and was coming up for sale in a regular lumber auction next week.

His chalk marks joined a few others on a number of rough cut timbers but an ironwood beam in the corner was the only really special log he found, and it was unmarked, Cagily Gary did not tag it, but was not missing out when the lumber auction came up.

Ironwood log; resource/ fuel/ crafting component/ reagent/ this sample can accept enchantments of iron rank plus

Gary spent a few hours learning the ins and outs of Saw milling, which synergized nicely with Lumberjacking on through Luthier. He could feel them cooking, swirling away in his soul. He was ready to return to the bath, he was beginning to suspect that his hot spring was more than just relaxing.

Outside his door, Otho, Liam and Amicus all stood, baskets and towels on their arms. “The neighbors are going to talk you goons!” Gary told them quietly. “I don't want them to know I'm running a bathhouse here!” “I thought this was a musical instrument shop.” Amicus helpfully replied.

“So why do you have a towel and…” Gary peered into his basket. “Domeshine plus, head polish? Eyebrow conditioner?” Amicus smiled benignly “A clean scholar is a happy scholar!” He replied, heading inside.

Gary had expanded the bathing facility at the expense of other living space with the storefront, workshop and minimal kitchen. Much of the garden had been incorporated into the bathing pool.

“Very nice Gary, I approve.” Otho said while paddling about.

“It is everything you said Otho” Enthused Amicus.

Liam floated by. “I think we should revisit Otho’s suggestion of last night. It's a bit of a sausage cart in here…”

“Damn you Liam, don’t even… What is that in your mouth Liam?” Gary sputtered, smelling a smell.

“Nothing in my mouth” He coughed, passing it to Otho.

Gary looked over in the corner, his little cannabis plant was not so little any more, and there were wet footprints leading to the corner of the garden it lived in.

“Otho’s idea” Amicus coughed.

“Traitor, you brought the pipe!” Otho fumed red eyed and grinning.

Gary felt like they had a very productive discussion, but had trouble nailing down any concrete gains or plans that had developed.

What had developed was a serious attack of the munchies. The whole crew retired to an all night tavern for fried potatoes in any form that could be had.

“So,” Liam was not exactly whispering, telling Amicus and Otho the story of their day at the festival and the plots and counterplots.

“...naturally I had no choice but to escort the lady for the day.” Liam spoke in heroic tones painting a decisive and bold image of his day. “While Gary slunk away with that healer girl.”

The two old men tutted at Gary’s bad form while grinning like fools. “Now Gary, how did things go with acolyte Tawney? She is a delight, I can assure you.”

Gary smiled smugly and would only say “A gentleman does not speak of such things” exactly as the lurking spider queen Jennah had instructed him. Gary was going to survive this.

The fifteen minute walk from his shop/bathhouse with Liam had quickly become a part of his routine.

As they strolled Liam proudly brought Amicus’s pipe from a pocket and lit it, passing it over.

“Dude!” Gary protested. Liam looked puzzled. ”Is this one of those things you are weird about Gary? Like nudity?”

He thought for a moment, puffing contemplatively. “I think it is Liam, let me ask, is this herb legal to own and consume?” Liam smiled. “Yes, but you can't sell it. Only give it away.”

Gary pondered that as they walked. “This is just some rando I found in the woods, and it’s knocking me for a loop, why isn’t anyone growing it in their yards?”

“Like everything, it comes down to magic. In higher magic zones monsters occur more often, in lower magic zones some things are not easy to acquire. That is why people live on the edge, and why we have brothers and sisters everywhere.” Liam looked serious, but in the way really really high people are serious.

Gary passed him the pipe. “We should give this back, I can make us one.” He coughed.

“Good plan, brother.” They drifted back to the orphanage to be greeted by Ivy’s disappointed stare.

“Gary, your admission paperwork for the college has been here all evening. Liam, Dannyl is on report for fighting again.” She swished away with disapproval in her every step.

“We need to get it together Liam.” Gary groaned.

“I was doing fine until recently Gary, what could have gone wrong I wonder?” Liam replied, heading off to find Dannyl, a rowdy ginger kid with a knack for helping Ivy in the kitchen if Gary recalled.

As he headed for his room Becky caught him. “Someone was looking for you, they didn't come inside so we didn't spook them.” This was clearly the important part of the message. “They said they would come by tomorrow at first bell. No Mercy!” she waved and ran off as he fecklessly replied “no mercy…”

When Gary woke he groggily dismissed a storm of messages from his interface, and dove into his skill tree instead. Novice Lumberjack was working with novice Sawyer which fed into Woodworking, into Carpenter, which improved Luthier.

Just as he hoped. He would keep building those basic skills up, getting the others, and then see where they led. As each new skill lit up they gradually illuminated related nodes nearby revealing paths through the tangle.

He had promised to run with Liam before breakfast while under the influence last night, he already regretted it.

Gary wheezed his way around the orchard garden struggling for each step, yellow stamina bar blinking angrily. Meanwhile Liam jogged in easy loops around him, easily quadrupling the distance Gary had “run”.

“You came from so far away, clearly you did not run to get here.” He mocked. “Your house has such a glorious bathing room, yet you seem to have never worked up a sweat before.” and “No one has ever died of ‘tired’ Gary… they died of exhaustion.”

“Coach Liam is an asshole.” Gary puffed and groaned his way into the dining hall, a staggering wreck. Liam was his usual glowing, energetic self. While Gary felt, and moved like an extra in a bad zombie movie. He collapsed thankfully in a chair when Liam promised to get food for them both.

When Liam returned he brought a slice of the local egg, cheese and bacon quiche, one of Ivy’s best.

For Gary was a large bowl of porridge with raisins. “Hey!” Gary protested. “What's the deal here?”

He was struggling to get up, determined to acquire his own quiche, but it was useless. His legs were seized in an iron grip.

A momentary flashback to the hospital made him thrash in panic, an unconscious moan escaping his lips. And then he saw nothing.

In a comfortable black void he heard his name, distant and sweet. “Gary, Gary?” it was a familiar voice. “Mom?..” He mumbled. “Am I late for school?..”

“No Gary wake up”

“Ooo!” Gary burbled. “It's Tawny, golden hair, golden skin, golden eyes, golden voice. She’s so pretty, but I don't think I’m her type.” He confided stupidly. “Her sister is scary and sexy, she's scexy! Sleepy…” Swirling colors filled his vision and it all went away again.

Gary was in bed in his room in the orphanage alone. He was absolutely ravenous and parched, on the bedside table under a napkin was a loaf, some butter and jam and a jug of water.

He housed it all and staggered up looking for more. His limbs were leaden and ached fiercely while his back and chest burned and felt hollowed out at the same time.

Whatever happened he was a wreck. He staggered down the hall, dressed, but only barely. His pants were inside out, his shirt was slowly unwinding and he was wearing one sandal and one slipper, both lefts, but both somehow on the wrong foot.

He shambled into Ivy’s kitchen like a boar in a vegetable patch, rooting around for anything edible. It took a moment to realize she was there, and another moment to realize she was yelling at him for looting her kitchen. He flopped onto a stool and pleaded. “Feed me Ivy, I feel like I’m being turned inside out!”

He pounded down three loaves of bread, a whole crock of butter, a whole pot of plum jam, a roast chicken and half a peck of apples before he was full. “What are you? A hungry ghost?” Ivy asked.

From behind her Otho’s voice rang out. “Gary and I will thank you to keep those kinds of speculations to yourself Miss Ivy.” She bobbed a quick assent and made herself scarce.

“Acolyte Tawny if you would please?” She came over to where he sagged on his stool, barely mobile and sweating.

He groaned softly and said; “Second date is where I show off my sweet dance moves…” While barely twitching his body. “All this can be yours, not too late.”

“Shut Up Gary!” she jabbed him with something and the world went away again.