Magic infuses every aspect of modern industrial life within the settled lands. However, despite its many sterling qualities, magic cannot fix every problem. Magic by itself, at least that magic wielded by mortal hands, cannot create lasting objects from nothing. Even simpler tasks, such as returning a damaged item to its original state, cannot be done completely correctly by magic alone. It must be guided, helped along by steady hands and an intelligent mind. Much like lightning, if left unguided magic will take the path of least resistance.
-excerpt from “Practical Magical Primer, Student Guide Year 1”-
“So, if I wanted to bring Goober down here,” Joe paused as he ripped another bit of viscera from the giant centipede they’d just slain, “I’d have to pay for a license and send him through obedience school?”
“Something like that,” Jill responded from her spot about three feet away. She was working on a different section of the creature, digging out the pea sized venom sacs that connected to the monster's hollow legs. “You would generally graduate from the training course prior to applying for your license however, as you would need to present your certification of completion before they would issue the license. Are you planning on bringing Goober on your future delves?”
Joe finally managed to get at his disgusting prize and passed it off to Micah. The minotaur gripped the organ in a piece of soft leather that had become soiled beyond saving. Aiming the opening down into the empty bottle of a spent antidote, he squeezed the bile colored liquid from the gland into the bottle before discarding the spent gland. The whole place stank of rotting vegetables and Joe wished again that he’d had a bathtub. Wait, there’s a bath house in town isn’t there? Fuck yeah, I’m going to the bathhouse after this. I don’t care if it’s full of wrinkly old men, I want a nice hot soak. The thought sustained him through the grisly work.
“Yeah, the poor boy is starting to mope around since I wont let him down here. Does the academy do the classes?” Joe passed another gland to Micah. Each segment of the creature had two legs attached to it, and each leg was fed by between one and three of the poison glands.
“Yep, one class a quarter as an elective.” Micah answered as he pitched a spent gland into the foliage. “Next quarter starts after the break here in a couple of weeks.”
“Will they just let me take the one class without enrolling in the college?” Joe asked, they’d finally worked their way through every segment of the centipede and Joe could finally clean off his hands. He debated using the little stream that ran through the room, but at this point he didn’t trust a damn thing in this poisonous jungle of a dungeon to be safe. Instead he picked his least favorite part of his shirt and did the best he could.
“Yeah, it’ll cost more and not contribute to a degree, but you’d be allowed to.” Micah finished off with the last gland and chucked it away. The bottle they’d been filling was three quarters of the way full, so there was still plenty of room for Micah to jam the cork on and stow their prize. While not as lucrative as their last run, this one was still likely to be profitable even if it was more dangerous.
The next room was densely packed with beautiful purple flowers. Above them a glittering purple haze sparkled in the light of Jill’s glowing manacoin. Along the walls, bright green vines clustered so tightly together that nothing could be seen between them. Yet somehow, glowing blue mushrooms still managed to wiggle out from between the vines, bathing the room in a soft blue that contrasted the harsh yellow of the burning coin.
It would have been pleasant, if they’d not run into this set up before and knew the haze was poisonous. It was also highly thaumoreactive, a mistake they’d made when Jill had brought their light source into the first room and caused a fire strong enough to engulf the space from wall to wall. It had taken a full thirty minutes for the blackened residue to cool enough for them to cross the now burnt expanse and it wasn’t an experience they wanted to repeat.
Unfortunately there was little choice, as they’d not found a way to clear the poisonous fog otherwise. So Jill tossed their light source into the room and the group retreated back to wait for the flames to die down.
“I can’t believe that ass walked out without paying his share,” Micah groused, not for the first time. It had been a full hour since they’d last brought up Minsk’s unceremonious departure, but apparently the man’s actions still chafed the good natured minotaur.
“Yeah, well what can you do?” Joe answered, picking at a loose thread on his soiled shirt. I think it’s dusters for this when we get back. I should see about making some sort of industrial cleaner for monster residue. I’m sure it would sell like crazy.
“You can pay for your own damn meal for a start.” Micah responded. He took out a rag and a bottle of oil and set to work polishing his sword. Beside him Jill took out a small whetstone and saw to the tips of her crossbow bolts.
Lacking any sort of a maintenance kit for his own weapon, as well as the experience on how to use one if he had, Joe sat and watched his two companions work by the light of the raging inferno in the near distance. “Anyone bring a pack of cards?”
<><><>
“Fucking finally!” Joe cheered as the group stepped into the core room. “I was on the verge of just turning around.” Despite the changes in the dungeon around them, the core room still looked the same. The walls, floor and ceiling were all a studded mess of sharp crystals. The core itself floated suspended midair at about chest height in the center of the low room shooting the occasional beam of light off into one of the crystal points, slowly pouring more magic into the now spent dungeon. The core itself however, had changed.
Joe paused as he looked at the core. It hadn’t been that long since his last delve, so he knew for certain that the core was different. When he’d last come here it had been an almost pure white, with only the occasional swirl of black in its depths marring the otherwise uniform surface. Now a definite pattern of black lines shot through it, giving the basketball sized stone the appearance of being carved from marble.
He pointed a finger at it. “Is that ok? I thought you said the color would drain from it when the dungeon was starting to collapse.”
Micah followed the direction of his finger. “Huh, I dono. I’ve only seen pictures of cores near collapse, but they didn’t really look like that. They’d greyed out all over instead of in bands. Maybe? We’ll definitely report this when we get back.”
They stood and stared at the core for a little while in silence, drinking in the beauty of the room before inevitably turning around and heading back. It’s odd, Joe thought. He’d let his eyes unfocus as he stared at the slowly rotating core. The more I look at that thing, the more it feels like it’s one of those hidden pictures, like if I just stare long enough then a horse or a sail boat will pop out. He stared a bit longer, but nothing happened so he followed his companions out.
<><><>
Joe emerged into the cool air of his basement absolutely plastered with sweat and grime. Doubling back to refill their potions had been bad enough, but climbing all the way from the very bottom of the dungeon when the ambient humidity had hovered around 90% and was heated to temperatures more conducive with cooking meat had been grueling. Now all Joe wanted to do was collect some fresh clothes and try out the bathhouse. He gave his delving companions a half hearted goodbye before making a beeline upstairs to gather what he needed. In less than five minutes Joe was out the door and on his way. It was not a moment too soon either, if the way the foot traffic parted around him was any indication.
At least no one he recognized was out to see him in the sorry state he was in.
“Well if it isn’t ma favorite customer. How’ya doing Joe?” Joe knew that that bubbly country drawl could only come from one person, and he was not at all surprised to turn around and see Merrie Carrie sauntering up. She got within seven feet of Joe before her nose wrinkled and she came to a dead stop. “Gods above Joe, what tha hell have you been doing? You smell worse than a back alley pisshouse.”
“Well good afternoon to you too Merrie. Is there anything else you’d like to compare me to or was that descriptive enough?”
Marrie waved a hand back and forth in front of her snout before giving her head a good shake. “Phew, now don’t go getting all twisted. I hope you’re heading to the bathhouse in a state like that.” As if just catching up with what she said, a mischievous little light suddenly came on in the giant lanoli’s eyes. “You are, aren’t you?”
Joe didn't like what he saw one bit, but didn’t see any reason not to answer her. “Yeah, I’ve not been there before and I thought now would be the best time to try it out.”
Merrie Carrie dared to cross the biohazardous space that was Joe’s pervasive body odor to slap him on the back and start steering him onward. “Well ain’t that just the luckiest coincidence ever. I’m on ma way to meet Moira for a little girl's pampering. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if her favorite toy came along for the ride.”
Joe tried to protest, but the idea of Moira seeing him in this condition rendered him speechless with its sheer horror until it was far too late. Before he knew it Merrie had steered him straight to the door of the bathhouse, and right up to an unprepared Moira.
Moira smelled Joe before she saw him. Even as she turned, Joe could see the look of disgust on her pretty face. The look morphed into one of profound confusion upon seeing Joe. “Gods above Joe, is that you?”
“Last time I checked it was,” Joe grumbled. Merrie stopped pushing him from behind and he was finally allowed to stop their headlong frog march.
“Why do you smell like that?”
“Went on my second delving. The dungeon decided to be a super hot and humid hell hole full of poisonous monsters. I decided a shower wouldn’t be good enough after dealing with all that.” Joe half turned to glare up at the grinning lanoli a pace behind him. “Merrie found me on my way here and decided I needed to be escorted.”
“Ya should have seen it Moira, people were actually parting before him like he was royalty.”
Moira shook her head before glaring at her friend. “Let him be Merrie, he looks dead on his feet and I’m sure he’d love to get cleaned up.”
“Aw girl, of course I see how tired he is” Merrie crooned, taking a step forward to put herself directly behind Joe. She lightly set her hands on his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “Why just look at tha poor boy. He looks like he could use a little loving attention.”
Moira raised an eyebrow, but waited for her friend to get to the point.
With a huff Merrie filled in what Moira had obviously missed. ‘What I’m saying is why don’t the two of you take the private room we booked. Have a little you time, I don’t mind.”
“ I don’t want to mess up your plans.”
“Oh hush you.” Merrie gave Joe a firmer squeeze on the shoulders to silence him.
“Merrie.” Moira’s tone held more than a little reproach in it, but she got no further than Joe did.
“What’s with all this protesting? Didn’t you two spend the night together already?”
Joe could see the blush blossom over Moira’s face, and from the heat of his own he knew he wasn’t any less redder.
“We still wore clothes.” Moira spluttered.
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“Well aren’t you both as chaste as a church choir.” Merrie gave Joe a hard shove and he stumbled forward into Moira’s arms. “Now git. You both could do each other a world of good.” Without waiting for a reply, the big lanoli turned and joined the trickle of people heading into the main entrance.
Glancing over, Joe could see Moira wasn’t entirely happy with how things were going. She had her grumpy scowl firmly planted on her face, but she was leveling it at the large woman’s retreating back, so Joe knew she wasn’t mad at him. He reached over and gently took her hand, letting their fingers intertwine in an increasingly familiar pattern.
“Want me to go get her?” He asked when he was sure he had her attention. Moira shook her head and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“No, it’s ok. She can just be so pushy sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
Moira gave a short snort of laughter. “Ok most of the time. Although, she does wonders for getting me out of my shell.”
They stood there for a minute just looking at one another before the press of the people around them forced the two forwards. Now free of Moira’s captivating eyes and Merrie’s captivating hands Joe could take a moment to appreciate the building around them. From outside the bathhouse blended seamlessly with the local architecture, only standing out for its height and girth. The bathhouse was easily three stories tall and took up a good chunk of the block it sat on. Behind it a constant cloud of steam and smoke billowed out from a forest of chimneys.
The inside was far grander than the outside. The main space was a massive warehouse style room, its vaulted ceiling reaching all the way to the roof. Walkways and stairs criss-crossed its red painted walls, leading to rows of numbered doors. About a third of the way down from the entrance the room was bisected by a fifteen foot high wall over which the dull roar of conversation and water could be heard. It was as hot and humid as the dungeon had been, but full of a gentle clean smell instead of the rank stench rot. As Joe watched, the flow of people separated into two columns, one male and one female.
Each column filed through a separate set of doors in the wall. The space between the doors was taken up by a long counter, behind which bobbed a pair of energetic kobolds apparently engaged in selling towels and other necessities to the bathers. I wonder where they get their soap from? Joe thought to himself as the two of them walked arm in arm up to the counter.
Moira caught one of the kobolds eyes who saluted her before turning back to finish with their current customer. Joe couldn’t help but be nosy, and leaned so he could see what the kobold was passing them. They had apparently purchased a bar of light pink soap no bigger than a walnut and a vial of some amber colored liquid equally as petit as the soap had been. It didn't look like anything he sold.
Now finished with their customer, the kobold turned to Moira with a practiced smile painted across their reptilian snout. “Good afternoon, what can I do for you today?” they croaked.
Moira returned the smile. “We reserved a private bath under ‘Fairchild’ and we're here for the key.”
“Let me just check the reservations, one moment please.” The kobold worker bobbed a quick bow before ducking under the counter. There was the momentary sound of rustling paper followed by the jingling of keys. “There you are,” the worker said as they popped back up and slapped a large tarnished key on the counter. “Third floor, right hand side as you come in, door 12A. Do you need anything before you head up?”
Moira looked at Joe who shook his head. “No, thank you. We brought our own.” With that, she collected the key and they moved off to the nearest stairwell.
The stairs were uncomfortably reminiscent of the dungeon ascent to Joe's tired legs, but he managed to haul himself all the way up to the third floor. He was helped in no small part by Moira, who's choice to lead the way up the stairs meant that he at least had a good view to distract from his protesting lower extremities. Well at least two of them. The one in the middle was giving him trouble for a different reason.
The night they had shared Joe’s bed had been entirely chaste. Joe had waited downstairs while Moira had changed, and in turn Moira had done the same. Joe's bed was too narrow for the two of them to get much in the way of personal space. They had compromised by pulling it out from against the wall and laying back to back.
Now they were about to see each other naked for the first time and Joe felt like a school boy on a first date. Suddenly he was self conscious of a body he’d become resigned with while worry mounted upon worry about what Moira would think of him. Steady Joe, keep it together. It’s not like she couldn’t get an idea of how you looked while you were dressed. If she’d not been into tubby middle aged guys, we’d have never gotten this far.
All too quickly they came to the door, and with a twist of her wrist Moira had unlocked it. The room beyond was about as large as a fairly good sized bedroom. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all made of cut stone blocks with stout pillars in the corners and halfway along the walls that helped support the weight of the ceiling above. At the front of the room two stone benches flanked the walls in front of gently bubbling basins of water. The back half of the room was dominated by a massive bathtub easily large enough to accommodate four people comfortably. Stepping in Joe was met with a pleasant lavender smell. Humidity and warmth made it slightly uncomfortable to wear clothes.
Glancing over at Moira for some clue of what to do, Joe saw the blacksmith hesitating before dropping her bag by the door. Joe could tell she was uncomfortable, so reached out and took her hand.
“Hey, if this is something you’re not ready for, we don’t have to do it. I’m sure you can find Merrie down in the public baths and have your girls date still. I don’t mind.” Joe punctuated his words with a soft squeeze of Moira’s calloused hand.
Moira smiled at him before returning the squeeze. “Joe, you’re just too sweet. If this wasn’t something I hadn’t wanted, we’d have not gotten this far. It’s just,” Moira looked away but did not let go of his hand. “I’m just, a little self conscious about my body.”
“Me too,” when Moira looked back at him quizzically, Joe took her other hand. “I wasn’t a looker back when I was in my prime, and I haven’t gotten any better as I’ve aged. Be prepared to see a lot of flabby white ass.” His dumb joke got the laugh he hoped it would and Moira came in for a quick kiss.
“Promise you’ll give me a chance?” The tone in her voice made Joe want to scoop her into his arms and hold her until the bad feelings went away. Instead he nodded and gave her his own kiss.
“I promise.”
And so they set about disrobing. Each trying to not look like they were staring at the other, each still sneaking glances when they thought they wouldn’t get caught. While Joe held no delusions of his physique, healthy eating and the training he’d been doing for his delves had reduced the spare tire around his middle from a car tire to a bicycle, but years of neglect couldn’t be undone in days. He was the sort of pale someone gets from being inside far too much for far too long, with obvious tan lines around his neck and arms. While not excessively hairy, he felt like a troll at that moment, and made a forlorn wish that he would have shaved more.
Moira on the other hand looked gorgeous. Honest work in the sun gave her a light tan that highlighted the muscles in her arms and back. Her legs were equally as thick with muscles, curving up into wide hips and a rounded bottom he couldn’t help but stare at. When she turned to look at him he caught sight of the swell of her breast sitting proudly upon the curve of her stomach. It stuck out from her enough to cause a crease right along her pelvis, and as he ran his eyes over her, he noticed just the hint of a scar at the edges of the fold.
“What’s that from?” Joe asked, reaching out and gently touching the scar as it emerged onto Moira’s hip. The question clearly hadn’t been one that Moira had been expecting. She blinked several times before answering.
“What, my intervention scar?” She cupped the sides of her stomach and lifted, opening the area up enough for Joe to see the long white scar that went from hip to hip. Holy shit, what happened to her? Joe couldn’t keep the surprise from his face, which caused Moira to blush and stammer out an explanation.
“Sarah’s birth wasn’t an easy one, and Dr.Hornsforward had to intervene to save the two of us. Old Bi’ll’s potions were good, but somethings always scar.” She looked at Joe, equal parts fight and flight in her eyes.
Joe looked deeply into those eyes, the view was wonderful and he needed a moment to think. He was missing something and knew that his next words could make or break his relationship with Moira. In the end he chose to ask the question he knew he’d have to, despite knowing how it made him look. “What does ‘intervene’ mean exactly?”
For the second time in as many minutes Moira seemed shocked by Joe’s questions. For a moment her eyes narrowed and Joe did his best to radiate honest bemusement. “It means that Sarah wasn’t coming naturally. You do know how it normally works right?” When Joe nodded Moira went on, still seeming skeptical that she was needing to explain this. “Since Sarah couldn’t be born normally,” here Moira drew a finger along her scar line, “Dr.Hornsforward had to go in and get her herself.”
The pieces clicked into place and Joe felt like the idiot he was.
“Ah, where I’m from, that's called a cesarean. Sorry, I’m tired and it just wasn’t connecting.”
Moira’s forehead wrinkled as she narrowed her eyes again. “Where are you from that it’s called a ‘see-sarian?”
Joe thought as fast as he ever had in his whole life. “It might have just been something my mother said. Something coded so that only certain people would understand. Like spelling things out over the head of a small child.”
Moira seemed to accept that as an answer, although grudgingly. Slowly she let go of her stomach and the majority of the scar was covered up. Looking down at herself, she let her hand run along the curve of her belly. “I was so scared that night. It hurt every time there was a contraction, and I could tell by the look on Dr.Hornsforward’s face things weren’t going well. Thankfully Merrie was there to keep a cool rag on my head and hold my hand.” Moira looked up at Joe with a sad smile on her face, still holding her stomach. “Would you believe it if I told you I had visible abs before getting pregnant? Gods I was so proud of how I looked back then.”
“And you’re not now?” Joe reached out and took one of Moira’s hands, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Moira didn’t answer at first, and when she did it was only with a little shake of her head.
“Why not?”
“Gods in heaven Joe,” Moira glared at him for a second before looking away. There was real anger in her eyes, but it didn’t seem directed at Joe. “It’s because I’m fat. Between running the business and raising Sarah on my own I just haven’t had the time to take care of myself. Adding to that, after Sarah was born all of a sudden I was putting on weight easier and it was harder to get it off. I…” Moira ground to a halt and looked back at Joe who was still watching, holding her hand as he did so.
When Moira didn’t continue Joe tried something. I hope this works, Marry used to like it so maybe Moira will too. He got down on his knees in front of a suddenly very red Moira and planted a gentle kiss right above her belly button. As an afterthought, Joe also kissed what he could see of her scars on either hip before looking back up at her from his lower vantage point.
“Moira, you’re beautiful.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth. “It’s not the same kind of beauty from six years ago, because you’re not the same person you were six years ago. I look at you now and see a strong woman who took the poor hand she was dealt and did her best to raise her daughter in a loving and stable house. A woman who took over the family business and made it thrive.” Here he planted another kiss on Moira’s stomach. As he did she brought her hand around to caress his cheek. “A woman who I’ve grown to know and love despite the fact that I’d always intended to be alone.”
Looking up into her eyes Joe could see the tears brimming in the corners. “Flatterer,” she mumbled as she scrubbed the unshed tears away.
Joe chuckled and planted one more kiss on Moira before standing up and giving her a kiss to her lips. “Anything to make you smile. Now come on, I’ve been neck deep in ball sweat for hours and I want to get clean.”
Moira snorted, but let Joe step back. “Well wasn’t that just the most romantic thing you could have ended on.”
“I’ll end on you if you’d let me.” It was out of Joe before he could stop himself, but thankfully it only got him a smack on the arm. The rest of their bath was spent in pleasantly mundane conversation. It was a japanese style bath, one where you washed yourself before stepping into the tub. The two of them sat on the same bench and took turns helping scrub each other down.
Joe managed to get Moira talking about the finer points of glassblowing and sat back to watch the enthusiasm flow off of her. It seemed Moira was passionate about more than just her metal work. From listening to her, it sounded like she learned the smithing from her mom and the glass making from her dad. Each held a special place in her heart as a way to connect back to her parents now that they lived so far away.
“Where are they now?” Joe asked as the two of them soaked in the massive tub. They were sitting on opposite ends, their feet just barely touching each other as they lounged.
“They live in Southgate, about four days from here.” Moira shifted, causing another puff of lavender scented steam to waft up into the air. “I really should go visit. They’ve not seen Sarah since she was a baby.”
Joe shrugged, “why not? We’ve both got assistance who could run the shops without us for a bit. I’d just have to buckle down and get a stock of the items Becky can’t make yet.” For a moment Moira looked surprised, but rapidly recovered. I might have jumped the gun assuming I’d be going. Joe thought as panic welled up inside him. “I mean, if you don't mind me tagging along.” he appended hastily.
This got him a smile and a chuckle before Moira waded her way over to his side and snuggled up under his arm. “Of course you’re welcome to come Joe.” She said looking up into his eyes. “I just wasn’t expecting to actually make plans to go see them right here and now. You caught me off guard there.”
Joe wrapped his arm around Moira and pulled her close. Their skin to skin contact made him yearn for more, but he held himself in check. As far as he knew, sex was still off the table and Joe was sure there were rules about that sort of thing in the bath house even if it had been. Instead he contented himself with her look and feel. “Family is important,” he said as he stared into her eyes. “My own mother and father up and disappeared on me. I eventually found out where they went, but they never made an attempt to contact me so I left them alone.”
“You’re kidding.” Moira leaned back to look at Joe. “That’s horrible.”
Joe shrugged, “that’s them. They were ‘spontaneous’ people and very rarely thought of others or the consequences of their actions.”
“Sounds like someone else I know.” Moira grumbled.
“Yeah, how much longer is Minsk going to be in town?” Joe asked. They hadn’t heard from the unpleasant C’tahl since his acidic comment at the end of their lunch together, but Joe hadn’t heard he had left town.
“No idea. Knowing him, he’s sulking somewhere because he just can’t believe I moved on.” Moira said, leaning back into Joe a tad more forcefully than she likely meant. Joe put his arm back around her and gave Moira a gentle squeeze.
“Should we be the bigger persons and let him know we’re planning on leaving town? I know he doesn’t deserve it, but I just get the feeling he’ll try and use any perceived slight against us.”
“You’re right,” Moira sighed. “He’s just that kind of petty. I’ll reach out to him myself.” She stood up, giving Joe a wonderful show as the water cascaded off her body. He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he’d wanted to. “Come on, our time’s about up and we still need to dry off and get dr-”
SMACK!
