[Mkguild] "First Steps" (1/?)

[Nathan Pfaunmiller]

This is about a full day of writing.  It ended up just short of 5,000
words.  "First Steps" is the current title; "Desperate Cries" is the
secondary, in case of previous use.

-LurkingWolf

___________________________

	Lois smiled to himself as he noted how much quieter the library was
on the day of the Yule.  He had honestly been quite surprised to find
the doors ajar on this morning where most everyone was celebrating
something, but it was a pleasant discovery nonetheless.  On this day
he had no more to celebrate than any other day, and so he meant to
make some use of it at least.

	It was already well past midday when he had finally regained
consciousness, his face stuck to the half-dried ink on a page of his
journal.  He had managed to separate the two without damaging either
too much, although the ink smudge on the page was more or less
irreparable at this point.  He managed to remedy the matching one on
his cheek without too much trouble, although the recent addition of
fur made it take far longer than usual, and he was certain that there
would always be a deep blue tint somewhere in that area of his face.
As long as it didn’t make itself too noticeable, he would not mind it.

	Now he was half-buried under about a shelf’s worth of books,
switching between four or five of them for the moment while scrawling
down notes on a personal notebook.  He had many explorations that he
was curious enough to explore, but today he was here for
entertainment, and after the patrol that he had just endured he was
not intending to look at anything too seriously.

	Of course, as always, he found something that amused him enough to
have him knee deep in books by the time of the next meal, which he
would rarely attend until much later.  This time it was some treatise
regarding prevailing theories about flight as seen in the animal
kingdom.  The work that had first sparked his interest was one that
was old enough that even though the book was written in Common, he had
some trouble understanding parts of it.

	To cross-reference that book, he had since found several books of
sketches by various artists, showing different views of flying
animals.  Some of the books contained rough measurements of each
sketch, but some were drawn by hand and intended only for beauty’s
sake, and so had no such interesting tidbits.

	One such picture he currently had braced against a shelf an arm’s
length from him, open to a folio that depicted a northern landscape
with a dragon taking wing in the background.  It had caught Lois’ eye
because the picture, while it struck him as ‘right’ in an artistic
sense, seemed to demonstrate an impossible flight posture for the
creature.  He would glance at it every now and again as he searched
through the books, but he had yet to find an annotated sketch of a
dragon anywhere.

	He had looked over several different bird sketches, and felt
confident that any knowledge of those creatures would only help his
study into their own species.  He had then turned to a book with
several bat studies.  Although they were mammals and dragons were
reptiles to the best of Lois’ knowledge, he noted that the style of
wings depicted in art for both seemed to match closely.  He set about
to formulating theories on why from that point, and his current
exploration was still focused on that.

	Lois stared at a number of rough sketches he had just drawn in his
book.  One side depicted a bat’s wing, which he had set against the
creature’s body to compare their lengths.  He frowned at the matching
picture on the other page.  The ratio of wing to body of the dragons
was horribly skewed in comparison.  He could stack a bat alongside its
own wing several times on average, but the length of the dragon’s
body, even cutting the tail from the consideration was still
comparatively large next to its wings.

	Another thing that bothered him was that bats were never seen as
particularly ferocious, whereas dragons were universally shown with
vicious claws and jaws, not to mention the scales that could easily be
mistaken for solid metal.  He tried to find some sort of figures
regarding the weight of either of the two creatures, but any such
information regarding dragons was nowhere to be found.  Lois shook his
head and leaned his head back against the ledge where he had done much
of his studying during his previous visit to the Keep.

	It seemed clear to him that something was wrong with his
considerations somewhere, but he could not figure out what.  Even if
the picture of the dragon was horrible off scale, considering what a
dragon should look like to be flightworthy just made him shake his
head.  The wingspan would have to be so incredibly massive that they
should become unusable.

	Lois finally mused that the dragons had to be far lighter than they
seemed to even be able to exist.  Either that was true, or they were
actively using some sort of magic for the duration of every flight
they took.  That either meant that they were either not as tough as
they seemed, or they were perhaps even more formidable magically then
they were physically.  He hoped to never have to test either of those
theories, but preparation was, as always, the key to victory.

	When Lois raised his head from the ledge he noted that the room was
quite a bit darker than he remembered.  He sighed and began to gather
his things together, setting the books in as organized a stack as he
could.  He took one last look at the picture and shook his head.  It
might look right to him from an aesthetic standpoint, but he could not
see a dragon flying with wings that short.  He shut the book with the
others, and slowly went about placing them back on the shelves.

	He stepped out of the library just before dusk, and exited the upper
Keep a few minutes afterwards, making his way towards some place he
could eat.  Given how little experience he had with it in the first
place, and now that he had been away from the Keep for several weeks,
his direction was not exactly set, and he allowed his eyes to roam
back and forth, watching the flow of people.  He sniffed a little bit
to try to get a feel of what was available to eat, but he had yet to
discover how to filter certain scents out from the background aroma of
the city, and all he got was a mess of unconnected smells that made
him wince.  He went back to pacing along, watching the crowds, until
something caught his eye.

	As it turned out, it was not a crowd that caught his eye, but two
people who were off on their own.  Or rather, as he noticed as he
watched them, one girl, pursued covertly by a young man who seemed
somewhat skilled in remaining unseen.  Lois watched them for a few
moments, and then fell in step behind the young man.

	He wondered first if they were together trying to perform something
covert, but the girl’s manner didn’t match the theory.  She seemed
interested in staying out of sight, but didn’t have an objective in
sight.  The young man, partly changed into some species that Lois
didn’t recognize, had a definite target in the girl.  Or rather, in
the small bag of coins that she kept tied to her belt.

	Perhaps it would have done her some good to put her money somewhere
that would not attract so much attention, but Lois guessed that she
was simply doing it out of habit.  She was old enough to have been
changed, and the way she was avoiding the other people in the area
made him suspect that she was not yet entirely adjusted to her new
life.

	Lois managed to creep up behind the young man, but kept at a safe
distance, sticking even closer to the shadows than his target.  The
young man seemed to have lost interest in checking his back, but Lois
was not going to let overconfidence be his downfall in this case.

	The woman stopped before too much longer, looking at her destination.
 It didn’t have a very extensive flow of people into it, but she still
hesitated, and that was when the thief acted.  He reached for the
moneybag, not taking very much care at all in doing it, but at least
he picked his spots well enough that she shouldn’t feel it at all.

	What happened next made Lois blink several times before he reacted.
Without turning her head at all, the young woman reached her opposite
hand around and caught the thief’s wrist, drawing him forward suddenly
until his head struck her elbow with a sharp report, and he was left
sprawled on the ground.  She turned, pulling out a short knife, and
held it threateningly above him.

	“Watch your hands, thief,” she said coldly.  Her hand was shaking as
though she was nervous, but her stance was fully composed, and it was
clear that she would not let the thief have a second chance.  He
scrambled away quickly, begging her pardon copiously as he went.  He
was so focused on making sure she didn’t call the Watch that he ran
right into Lois.  The ermine grabbed his arm and pulled him to his
feet.  Even at full height he wasn’t anywhere near a match for the
assassin’s own.

	“I would suggest you reconsider your occupation if you mean to
continue living in the Keep,” Lois growled at the young man.  The look
on the man’s face was one of abject terror, even after he had enough
sense to realize that he was not looking at a Watchman.  Lois let the
young man go, and watched as he tripped over himself to make his way
into the nearby alleyways.  Perhaps once he had calmed down he would
notice that Lois had placed a few coins in his once-empty money pouch.

	The assassin turned to look at the young woman, who had placed her
dagger back in its sheath and was watching him.  He nodded to her,
pantomiming a tip of his hat.

	“You did quite a good job of defending yourself there.  I had
expected to catch the thief after he had stolen your purse, but it
seems that my good intentions were unnecessary.”

	She nodded, still shaking a bit.  She placed her hand on her pouch
once more to make certain that it was still there, but kept her eyes
on him.

	“He was sloppy.  I felt a tug on my pouch, and people have tried to
steal my purse before.  None have succeeded, but I don’t give them an
opportunity all the same.”

	Lois looked at her incredulously.  His approach had been sloppy, yes,
but she had already been moving when the thief had first touched her
pouch.  She must have already seen him before he attempted his attack.
 Now that he could see her, Lois thought that the young woman looked
familiar.  He squinted.

	“I… don’t suppose we have met somewhere?  Ah, blast it, asking is no
good.  I look nothing like I did two weeks ago.  My name is Vincent
Lois, you wouldn’t happen to have met me while I was still human,
would you?”

	The young woman considered for a moment.  “I am not certain,” she
said slowly.  “It’s unlikely that you would recognize me if it was two
weeks ago, either.  I have changed since that point.”  She visibly
winced as she said this, but she was no longer shaking as she had been
a moment before.  Suddenly her eyes widened and she looked up, first
at the weapons on his belt, and then at his face.

	“Ah, Vincent Lois!  Yes, we met in the training rings.  You were
demonstrating some of your combat moves in the training rings.  You
were injured in a duel a little later, and I hadn’t seen you anywhere
since.”  She smiled.  “I’m surprised that you recognize me, especially
since I’ve been Cursed.”

	Lois smiled.  “I remember now.  Yes, well, I always try to remember
the people that I meet, even if it’s just by their faces.  What is
your name now that you’ve been Cursed?”  IT was not as direct as
telling her that he did not remember what her name was, but it would
have the same effect.

	“Paula,” she replied.  The way she soft-touched the word indicated to
Lois that she wasn’t quite used to it yet.  He nodded.

	 Lois gestured to the building she had been making for before the
thief tried to steal her purse.  “You were going to get something to
eat?” he asked.

	She nodded.  “My father…  He’s either still working or getting
himself drunk right now.  I have to find myself some food, or I’m not
going to eat at all,” she explained.

	“Would you like some company?”  She looked at him incredulously at
this question, but he didn’t relent.  “I mean it.  I just finished my
own business and was looking for some food anyway.  May as well have
some conversation with the food.”

	Paula chewed her lip for a moment.  She had started trembling again,
something that made Lois somewhat uncertain.  He had met shy people
before, and he had also seen a few people who had been Cursed shortly
before while he had been touring in the first days of his stay.  But
none of them were nearly as reserved as Paula seemed.  She was jumpy
and nervous, and he couldn’t help but feel that there was unseen as a
reason.

	She agreed though, nodding before voicing her agreement.  “Yes, I
think some company would be very much appreciated,” she replied.
“I’ve been eating alone a lot lately.  Having some company would be
quite welcome.”

	Lois smiled and entered the small building with Paula.  It was a
smaller establishment than many that were currently active, but the
mood was still festive because of the holiday that everyone seemed to
be celebrating.  The smell of honeyed ale was intermingled with the
spicy smells of cider and spiced rum.  The inhabitants of the Keep
lent their own peculiar aromas to the bouquet, and Lois found himself
momentarily overwhelmed by the abundance of them all.  Paula ended up
having to pull him towards a table before he reacted again, and he
apologized profusely for it.

	“Don’t worry,” Paula said with a bit of a smile.  “I’ve seen far
worse.  I’m one of the last of my friends to be Cursed, and many of
the others took the animal portion of the Curse.  I think the Keep
prefers it to the other two, honestly.  At any rate, I gave them no
end of ribbing when their instincts were giving them fits.”  She
looked away for a moment.  “Now that I’m on the other side of it, I’m
beginning to think that I did more harm than good.”

	Lois looked up as a waiter managed to squeeze past a few more groups.
 Lois deferred to Paula’s judgment of what would be a good meal, since
she had been the one heading in this direction in the first place.  He
waited for the waiter to leave, and then turned back to Paula.  “Does
your family not celebrate the Yule?” he asked.

	She turned away, unconsciously flicking a lock of hair back over her
ear.  “My father claims to be a practicing Follower, for what good it
does him.  I think he clings to it because of my grandfather, and
because of his own inability to let go.  As it turns out, he has not
attended any meetings at the chapel in the upper Keep since the first
service.  Tonight I suppose he is getting drunk at the Mule again, or
simply finding a way to avoid coming back and seeing me…”

	Paula turned back to look at Lois suddenly, eyes wide.  “Oh, I’ve
said far too much!” she said, running a hand through her hair in
exasperation.  “I hardly know you.  For all I know, you and that thief
a few moments ago are cut from the same cloth, and you’re just a bit
more clever in your methods.”

	“You don’t seem to hold me in a very high opinion.  I certainly hope
it isn’t my demeanor that has caused you to think this of me.”

	Paula shook her head and looked away again.  “I don’t really think
that,” she admitted in a quiet voice.  “I guess it’s just a little
hard to admit to myself that I actually am still capable of having a
real… normal conversation with someone now.  Ever since the Curse, all
of my interactions with others have been awkward… at best.”

	Lois considered what she said for a moment before saying anything in
response.  She was down about the Curse, more so than anyone he had
met so far.  “Well, I hope to be the exception to your general rule,
then,” he replied finally.  “You don’t have to tell me about your
problems.  If all we end up talking about is the political situation
here in the north, it will be far more interesting than most of the
conversation I have been a party to over these last few weeks.”

	She chuckled a little bit, but nodded.  “I suppose the same could be
said for me.  All right, I’m curious, then.  What is your history;
what has your life been like this far?”

	It wasn’t a question that Lois had hidden from over the years, but it
still took him the rest of their meal to answer the Paula’s
satisfaction.  He dropped hints about the nature of his work, but
mostly just referred to it as mercenary assignments, and more recently
bounty hunting.  She seemed quite fascinated with both ideas herself,
and he managed to glean some relevant information from her as he went
along.  She was apparently being trained in heavy two-handed combat.
He had been forced to admit that he couldn’t see that in her current
form, and she had only laughed bitterly and agreed with the sentiment.
 A little more subtle prodding, and her father’s presence returned
once again.  He was the one who had prescribed the training for his
daughter, and absolutely refused to let her pursue anything else.  She
seemed resigned to her fate, but the way she hung on every word he
said regarding his own activities in contrast to her downcast view of
her current situation intrigued Lois.  He kept mulling it over as the
evening went on, and was finally left considering it for a few quiet
moments once their meal had been finished.

	“Paula, I’ve been thinking,” he said after a little while.  “You
showed some excellent awareness tonight when you foiled the thief’s
attempt on your pouch.  That sort of thing is exactly what I use in my
own work, my fighting style.  Based on what you have been telling me,
you don’t feel that you were cut out for being a heavy arms fighter.
What if I were to train you, at no cost to you, to use these same
techniques?”

	Paula stared at him for a few moments before shaking her head.  It
was jerky, though.  She did not want to say no.  “Lois, I’ve promised
my father that I will pursue my training in that direction.  I have to
do it.  I can’t change my mind now, not after I’ve given my word.”

	“You wouldn’t have to give up your other training,” Lois replied.
“Night is ideal for this sort of training anyway, and that should at
least give us some time in the day after your regular training.”

	“I don’t know,” Paula said simply after some hesitation.  “I have
trouble standing up to one training regimen in a day, let alone two.
I’m sure my father would not be very happy if he found out, either.”

	“Well, there is nothing saying you have to tell him.  If you’re here
right now, and he’s supposed to be a Follower and celebrating
appropriately right now, then I doubt you’ll have much trouble getting
other evenings free.”  Lois drummed his fingers on the table, his new
claws adding a staccato accent to each tap.  He watched as she
considered the proposition.

	“I suppose that it wouldn’t be a problem to try it for a few nights at least.”

	“That’s all I ask,” Lois responded.

	“Where would you even be training me?” Paula asked, looking up into
Lois’ face again.

	“I prefer some flexibility where that is concerned.  If we could meet
at that same corner where the thief tried to take a stab at your
purse, I think we can work from there.  If you can be there at about
the same time we first met there, it should be fine.”

	“That would mean that we’d be training until rather late, wouldn’t
it?” Paula asked.

	“It might,” Lois replied.  “If you would like to meet earlier, it
shouldn’t be too much trouble.  It would be a good idea to have
something to eat before training, however, so keep that in mind.”

	Paula nodded.  “I suppose that it wouldn’t be too much trouble to
train so late.  I certainly don’t have much going on at that time of
night.”  Once again, the odd melancholy returned to her voice.  Lois
watched her for a moment, but finally shrugged it off.  It was
probably nothing more than the lingering doubts that she had mentioned
to him in passing during the conversation starting up again.  He hoped
that with some training she would get past them.  “I should get home
for now, anyway.  Thank you for giving me someone to talk to.”  She
smiled hesitantly.

	“It was a pleasure.  I suppose that I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, then?”

	She nodded slowly, then more earnestly once she had thought about it.
 “Yes.  I will be there.  It’s something that I need to do.”  Lois
didn’t respond.  She clearly had not been seeking a response.
“Tomorrow…  All right, I will leave you until then.”  She nodded and
walked off.  She seemed doubtful, as though she was not sure if she
should say anything more, but finally managed to leave the
establishment after only a few moments of indecision.

	Lois watched her, deep in thought.  He had not considered taking on
an apprentice while he was here at the Keep.  It simply struck him as
something that would be of mutual benefit.  Paula was clearly in need
of something to help her confidence, and perhaps her combat skills at
the same time, and Lois simply felt that the concept of having an
apprentice seemed right somehow.  It didn’t require him to be an
assassin, and yet it would allow him to apply his talents regardless.
He let himself slip down further into the chair as he thought.

	It only concerned him slightly that he had not considered how to
train yet.  He knew she had something, and finding out what all she
could do would have to be the basis of his training regimen.  It would
be useless to decide on a solid method until he first had time to
evaluate it.

	As it was, however, he did want to do a few things in his room before
he slept, and he hoped to at least sleep in his bed tonight.  If he
hoped to accomplish either goal, starting now would not be a bad idea.
 He paid for the food he had eaten and made his way to the upper Keep
to end his day.  Perhaps he would find time to meet his fellow
patrolmen before training tomorrow.  Only time would tell.

*	*	*

	Gerard waited in Coe’s office as the raccoon worked his paws over the
stag’s injured leg.  Every now he would wince or grunt, but he kept
himself stoic for the most part.  The healer was usually not too
annoyed by conversation while he worked, but he had only tolerated a
few words from Gerard thus far.  Perhaps the raccoon was as grudging
with his time on the Yule as Gerard tended to be, and was just showing
it.  After all, he had agreed to visit Gerard’s house in order to
check on the injured leg.

	The stag had been surprised when Coe revealed that he had brought a
mage in for a second opinion, but both of them had been unobtrusive so
far, only touching the injury when absolutely necessary.  They
occasionally took council together, but only ever for a few moments,
and they never said anything that Gerard understood when he could hear
them.  Finally, the raccoon stood up, brushing his brow with a bit of
a sigh.  He sat down on the bed beside Gerard while the mage stood up
in front of him, arms crossed.

	Coe stretched.  “Well, Gerard, I’m not really sure what to say at
this point,” the raccoon said finally.  “It’s not an easy path either
way.”

	Gerard didn’t like the sound of this.  “Either way?  Where does this
path split, Healer?”

	Coe winced a bit, rubbing a hand along his chin.  “It split right
under your knee,” he commented humorlessly.  “Yesterday, when you came
in to see me, it looked bad.  That said, it was, without a doubt, the
best looking wound of that age that I had ever looked at.  It gave me
some hope, and I let that hope gain too much of a foothold to tell you
how bad it was before you left.”

	“Doctor, forgive me if I truly do not like where this is going,”
Gerard said under his breath.

	The Healer managed a chuckle.  “Well, I’ll lay it on the table for
you.  It might be possible to save your leg.”

	“Might?”

	“Yes, might.”  Coe sighed, rubbing the ridge of his muzzle so hard
that Gerard wondered that he hadn’t prodded himself with his claws
yet.  “There are a lot of ifs involved right now.  First, I do not see
much chance of saving your life with medicine alone.  That’s why I had
my friend accompany me today.”  He gestured to the mage.

	“We think that we could save your leg, but it would mean throwing
everything at it, medicinal and magical.  You’d be off your feet for
weeks, maybe months.  Even then, there’s a chance that it wouldn’t
help.  There’s even a slight chance that the infection would spread…”
The raccoon tapped his claws together and shook his head.

	Gerard stared at the Healer, then back at the mage.

	“And the cost?” he ventured.

	“Considerable,” Coe replied quietly.  “You know me, Gerard.  I’ll
give you what time you need to pay, but I do not control what a mage
will charge, and no matter how much I trust them personally, I cannot
guarantee that what they do will be sufficient.”

	Gerard felt like a stone had been dropped upon him.  This had been
the happiest day he could remember having for ages.  Even if he was
half-crippled, he was with his family, and he could not remember any
day that he was happier to be with them all.  Now, with the day
closing, he found out that he could be losing his leg?  What was
happening?

	“May I speak to my wife?” Gerard asked quietly.

	Coe patted him on the back.  “Take the whole night to talk about it.
The infection should be controlled for now, and we can afford to delay
a day for now.  We do not want a hasty decision about this one way or
the other.”

	Gerard nodded, placing his muzzle in his hands as he waited.  He
hardly noticed as both Coe and the mage exited the room.  A moment
afterwards, his wife entered.  She sat down beside him and wrapped her
small arms around him gently.

	“Gerard?”

	The stag didn’t respond for a moment, and when he next spoke it was
not to her.  “How could you let this happen?” he demanded in a quiet,
broken voice.  “What did I do?  Did I misstep somehow?  Have I
blasphemed against You, either in thought, word, or deed?”

	His wife embraced him.  “Gerard, I love you.  We can make it through this.”

	“Oh, Eli…”  Gerard could say no more.  Amber quietly held him,
brushing her fingers through his fur as his body rocked back and forth
with his sobs.  So often he had been her rock in the hard times.
After the Curse, she would not have survived her own despair if it had
not been for him.  Now, she would return the favor.  Heard or unheard,
she continued to whisper comfort to her husband.  His own sobs, moans,
and incoherent groanings were meaningless to her.  She simply hoped
that Eli had sent his emissary to interpret Gerard’s cries, for she
certainly could not.

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