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Description
(Wayge’s Dell, Drexel ~ A.Y. 1550)

‘Ello officer. You can call me Clodd. Sorry I can’t get up to greet you. I’m gonna be stuck ‘ere in bed for quite a while. Heh.

“Questions,” you say? Yeah, I’ll bite.

Well, for starters, ‘ere’s all you really need to know ‘bout me. I’m a man, I like the night life, puny snats piss me off, and I fuckin’ ‘ate eloei. I just do.

And that’s all you really need to know.

You’re ‘ere… you’re ‘ere to ‘ear what ‘appened a couple of nights back, right?

Thought so.

Well… I s’pose it was around midnight. Sounds right. I was stealthin’ through the alleys. Fourth night in a row, too. The air was cold—invigoratin’. Sweat trickled down me neck, turnin’ frigid, but I ‘ad me thick short-coat on, so it wasn’t a problem. Not a big’un, anyhow. It was lookin’ up to be a real wild evenin’; a chuck o’ fun, and real ‘olesome, too.

Then, Garrick just ‘ad to come along and ruin it. Stupid groppin’, whiny eloe. ’Is ‘ouse is a couple blocks down the street, in case you were wonderin’.

Oh, you already been there? Makes sense.

So, ‘bout Garrick. I’d caught ‘im in a real tizzie. I ‘eard ‘im first: the weak slodge of ‘is fuzzy slippers through the mud. The sound was messin’ up the rhythm of me jog. So I looked, and—wouldn’t you know it—‘e was wearin’ a dress! Pah!

‘E calls it ‘is “night-robe.” Tarts.

You know, I bet ‘e ‘asn’t been wit’ ‘is wife since their fuckin’ consummation. They prolly ‘ad to lock ‘em in a room back then just to get ‘em to go on! Heh. If the bitch hadn’t been a smarmy eloe like ‘er ‘usband, I’d ‘ave gone and saved ‘er from ‘er doldrums years ago, like any right good bug would. Eh, too bad–‘er loss.

Anyways, Garrick was out there ‘ollorin’. And no words, mind you; just ‘owlin’. ‘E was screamin’ loud enough to wake the whole damn block. Thank Dahr none of the neighbors cared, though. You prolly know even better than I do officer, just ‘ow much of a pain in the ass angry neighbors can be.

So, ‘earin’ the noise, I stopped and turn ‘round, only to see and feel a bolt of fire whizz past me. It grazed a burn ‘cross the shoulder of me coat.

That bastard ‘ad done it now.

Standin’ there ‘cross the street, Garrick shook ‘is arm above ‘is ‘ead, ‘owlin’ me name, all slobber and fury. Then ‘e sprinted at me. ‘Is white night-robe fluttered behind ‘im as ‘e ran. ‘E kicked up mud and spattered it all over ‘is ‘airy legs. And as ‘e ran, I could sense ‘im readyin’ ‘is next shot.

“Not this time, cuz,” I said.

See, officer, me father ‘ad taught me some nice good magics, just like ‘is father and ‘is father before ‘im.

A license? Yeah I ‘ave one. Ask Flimn, ‘e’ll fetch it for you.

So, there I was, feelin’ ‘im weavin’ a spell. But I knew Garrick ‘ad a thing for fire; I wove a field between me ‘ands and tuned it cold. ‘E sense me magic and screamed some more. Flames bloomed ‘round ‘is flailin’ fists, then ‘e stood ‘is ground and launched ‘em at me: twin snakes of windin’ spitfire.

And ‘e calls ‘imself a “professional mage.” Pfft—tarts to that!

I turned on me shield wit’ a quick little thought. A wall of cold spread out in front of me. There were little crystals of ice everywhere, all a-glimmerin’. Garrick’s fire bolts smashed against the frozen shroud. They blasted up steam in ‘iss after ‘iss ‘til they finally died out. Me spell faded a lick after.

The steam soon went away, but no before wettin’ me face and the brim of me ‘at.

“C’mon you feeble little shit, show me what you got!” I yelled, laughin’.

Garrick screamed sm’more, cryin’ tears like a little newborn.

‘E tossed out long lines of magic at me; ‘e set ‘em afire and whipped ‘em about like theys were tongues. I wove me field back in place and turned on the shield. But I wasn’t quite quick enough. Behind the ‘iss of steam, me ‘at caught fire. I ‘ad to toss it aside; the mud smoked it out.

Fuck ‘im, I thought. Fuck ‘im all the way to the Abyss. ‘E puts mud on me ‘at? Well, I’ll put mud on ‘im! That’s what I thought.

“Fuck you, Garrick!” I yelled at ‘im. I doubt ‘e was listenin’.

I looked. Yeah, ‘e wasn’t listenin’. ‘E was draftin’ up another attack. Tarts.

I sent a field down ‘long the ground and tuned it right. I scooped down ‘long the ground and sent the magic a-flowin, whippin’ it. The spell sprayed mud in drops and balls all over Garrick’s sorry little face. ‘E staggered ‘nd spat, ‘is concentration all broked. It was beautiful.

“Not good at playin’ dirty, are you?” I laughed.

While ‘e fumbled, I drew me field ‘round ‘im like a lasso. And while ‘e tried to fight it off, I tuned it for the next spell. Then I fried ‘im! Heh. I let the spell loose. It crackled fierce; white and bright. I could smell ‘is ‘air bein’ singed by the jolts and bolts. ‘E staggered and fell to ‘is knees, twitchin’ a bit.

You ever played around wit’ lightnin’ before, officer? I’ve been doin’ it for as long as I can remember. You should give it a whack some time. There’s nothin’ like lightnin’ in a bottle—‘scept maybe when you let it out! Heh!

Well, I felt mighty proud of me-self, ’avin’ fended off me attacker. ‘E was on ‘ands and knees, right ‘side the entrance to the alley. I walked up to ‘im; I wanted to make sure ‘e’d learned ‘is lesson. I saw a rake—broken thing—lyin’ against one of the alley walls, so I bent over and reached for it. But suddenly, Garrick leapt up. Wouldn’t you know it, that nasty eloe ‘ad been playin’ a trick on me!

Never trust an eloe, officer. I’d trust me neighbor’s manû ‘ouse-slave lifetimes ‘fore I’d ever trust an eloe. The scammies can all go bite off their own tails, as far’s I care.

Eh, what’s that? “Not germane,” you say? Ah well… I s’pose I ‘ave been ramblin’. Garrick got me pretty good. Course, you can see that wit’ all these bandages wrapped ‘round me ‘ead. Heh.

So… I was about to smack ‘im a few times wit’ the rake for good measure, when ‘e cast a spell at me. I ‘adn’t seen it comin’. E’d prolly shaped the field while ‘e’d been cowerin’ in the mud.

Then, there was a great boosh; you know what I mean, like wind, but wit’out wind. And before I knew it, me rake ‘ad been flung into the buildin’ behind me.

That’s ‘ow missus Quimbly’s window got broken, by the way.

So then—get this—barely ‘ad I set me eyes back on Garrick when ‘is fists erupted in flame—burnin’ blue, I might add! And then ‘e punched me. The eloe punched me wit’ ‘is flamin’ fists! Can you believe that, officer? I still can’t.

I ‘ave to give ‘im credit for that, though. Garrick’s body might ‘ave been like a bunch of twigs but, Dahr, could ‘e punch! It burned; it stung. And I could sense only more was a-comin’.

Me mind was in a whirl. I reached for whatever was left over from me first spell—me shield. I tried to get it up… I tried to get it up, officer, but I wasn’t licky enough. Garrick stopped ‘is punches and wrapped ‘is fire spell ‘round me. All ‘round me body, ‘is cloak of fire met me cloak of frost, and everythin’ ‘issed out in an ‘uge curtain of steam. Spritz… the steam, the steam. Most pain I ever felt. It gushed over me body, searin’ me skin and boilin’ me red like I was some sort of shellfish!

So there I was—burned and bruised. I tried to stay up. I tried to steady me shield, but I couldn’t muster anythin’ more. I couldn’t keep me breath in me lungs. I fell to the ground, right smack onto the mud. I couldn’t even feel ‘im conjurin’ a field all above me. I couldn’t do nothin’.

Garrick cast ‘is spell, pressin’ air and force down on me, squeezin’ me face-down into the mud wit’ the boot-soles of ‘is magic. Mud pressed up against me brow and nose and flooded me tongue. Grit scraped along me chest and bit at me raw flesh. I sputtered ‘nd coughed; I tried to puke. I felt the vise of ‘is magic tightenin’ around me skull. But I couldn’t; each spasm was like somethin’ screamin’ in me, tryin’ to rip its way out. And all the while, ’e screamed and screamed above me ‘ead. The words’re still poundin’ in me skull:

“BEAST!!” ‘e yelled. “BEAST!!” “BEAST!!” Over and over again.

Then ‘e let go of ‘is magic and started kickin’ me in the gut wit’ ‘is fuzzy slippers, screamin’ “BEAST!!” in between kicks. The kicks pushed me onto me back, and then ‘e stomped down on me ‘ead and chest. But by then, I was ‘earin’ more than I felt; I was fallin’ past the point of pain. The last thing I remember ‘earin’ was me ribs crackin’ and things growin’ dim.

I don’t remember anythin’ after that. I woke up ‘ere—right ‘ere—a couple of days ago, wit’ Flimn ‘nd Molly watchin’ over me. It took a long while ‘fore I got back to me senses all right; they told me what ‘ad ‘appened once I finally did.

Flimn told me that ‘e’d grabbed ‘is gun and come rushin’ outta the ‘ouse soon as ‘e ‘eard Garrick ‘ollerin’ me name like a roarin’ scarly, Flimn ran and ran down the street ‘till e’ got close enough to see me leakin’ blood all over the muddy road. ‘E saw the eloe beatin’ me like I was a rug, and put two and two together. Then BOOOOOM! Flim shot ‘im, right in the ‘ead. ‘E tells me Garrick’s brains went all pthbtbtbtbt all over the place. Heh! Must’ve been a mighty fine sight to see; shame I was out of me senses.

But there’s more. Turned out Flimn’s wife, Molly—lovely woman… turned out she’d rushed out of the ‘ouse right after ‘er ‘usband. She’s a nurse down at the clinic, you see. Knows all sorts of stuff ‘bout medicine and ‘ealin magic and whatnot. I owe ‘er me life. She fixed me up enough to be moved, while Flimn went and got ‘is brother in law to ‘elp carry me to me bed, right ‘ere.

And that’s me story, officer. Now, if you don’t mind, all this talkin’ ‘as gotten me achin’ again, so I’m goin’—

—Eh? “Why did ‘e do it?” Oh, you mean Garrick, right?

Well… it was a real funny thing, officer. Me brother’s a good bug; like many folks, ‘e’s right suspicious of magic. So, ‘e makes all ‘is drinks usin’ that mage-bane water stuff. It tastes fine, but I’m not partial to it. Numbs me magic, you see. And that’s no fun at all.

And, well… a couple weeks back, I was alone at the ‘ouse when Gerry—that’s Flimn’s boy—comes over wit’ a couple of ‘is mates. Garrick’s son was one of ‘em. They ask for some snacks, so I give some to ‘em. But, turns out the only thing to drink was that mage-bane stuff. So I gave it to ‘em, and went back to me nap.

Now, you tell me, officer, ‘ow was I s’posed to know that mage-bane made eloei real sick? It’s not me fault the kid died! ‘E shoulda been able to tell it was bad for ‘im, you know? An eloe should know what stuff can kill ‘im. If you ask me, Garrick’s kid was a right moron for not payin’ better attention. Garrick and ‘is stupid boy—they both got what they deserved. That’s what I think.

So, does that clear everythin’ up officer?

It does?

Heh. Well, thank Dahr for that! I’d be right damned if I let a stupid eloe get me in trouble.

Now, please, officer… let me rest. I’m gettin’ tired. Don’t know ‘ow long I’ll ‘ave to stay in bed like this.

Maybe you can stop by for a visit some time? Yes? No? Oh well. Tarts.

Oh, do be a bug and say ‘ello to missus Qimbly for me!

Description
(Wayge’s Dell, Drexel ~ A.Y. 1550)

‘Ello officer. You can call me Clodd. Sorry I can’t get up to greet you. I’m gonna be stuck ‘ere in bed for quite a while. Heh.

“Questions,” you say? Yeah, I’ll bite.

Well, for starters, ‘ere’s all you really need to know ‘bout me. I’m a man, I like the night life, puny snats piss me off, and I fuckin’ ‘ate eloei. I just do.

And that’s all you really need to know.

You’re ‘ere… you’re ‘ere to ‘ear what ‘appened a couple of nights back, right?

Thought so.

Well… I s’pose it was around midnight. Sounds right. I was stealthin’ through the alleys. Fourth night in a row, too. The air was cold—invigoratin’. Sweat trickled down me neck, turnin’ frigid, but I ‘ad me thick short-coat on, so it wasn’t a problem. Not a big’un, anyhow. It was lookin’ up to be a real wild evenin’; a chuck o’ fun, and real ‘olesome, too.

Then, Garrick just ‘ad to come along and ruin it. Stupid groppin’, whiny eloe. ’Is ‘ouse is a couple blocks down the street, in case you were wonderin’.

Oh, you already been there? Makes sense.

So, ‘bout Garrick. I’d caught ‘im in a real tizzie. I ‘eard ‘im first: the weak slodge of ‘is fuzzy slippers through the mud. The sound was messin’ up the rhythm of me jog. So I looked, and—wouldn’t you know it—‘e was wearin’ a dress! Pah!

‘E calls it ‘is “night-robe.” Tarts.

You know, I bet ‘e ‘asn’t been wit’ ‘is wife since their fuckin’ consummation. They prolly ‘ad to lock ‘em in a room back then just to get ‘em to go on! Heh. If the bitch hadn’t been a smarmy eloe like ‘er ‘usband, I’d ‘ave gone and saved ‘er from ‘er doldrums years ago, like any right good bug would. Eh, too bad–‘er loss.

Anyways, Garrick was out there ‘ollorin’. And no words, mind you; just ‘owlin’. ‘E was screamin’ loud enough to wake the whole damn block. Thank Dahr none of the neighbors cared, though. You prolly know even better than I do officer, just ‘ow much of a pain in the ass angry neighbors can be.

So, ‘earin’ the noise, I stopped and turn ‘round, only to see and feel a bolt of fire whizz past me. It grazed a burn ‘cross the shoulder of me coat.

That bastard ‘ad done it now.

Standin’ there ‘cross the street, Garrick shook ‘is arm above ‘is ‘ead, ‘owlin’ me name, all slobber and fury. Then ‘e sprinted at me. ‘Is white night-robe fluttered behind ‘im as ‘e ran. ‘E kicked up mud and spattered it all over ‘is ‘airy legs. And as ‘e ran, I could sense ‘im readyin’ ‘is next shot.

“Not this time, cuz,” I said.

See, officer, me father ‘ad taught me some nice good magics, just like ‘is father and ‘is father before ‘im.

A license? Yeah I ‘ave one. Ask Flimn, ‘e’ll fetch it for you.

So, there I was, feelin’ ‘im weavin’ a spell. But I knew Garrick ‘ad a thing for fire; I wove a field between me ‘ands and tuned it cold. ‘E sense me magic and screamed some more. Flames bloomed ‘round ‘is flailin’ fists, then ‘e stood ‘is ground and launched ‘em at me: twin snakes of windin’ spitfire.

And ‘e calls ‘imself a “professional mage.” Pfft—tarts to that!

I turned on me shield wit’ a quick little thought. A wall of cold spread out in front of me. There were little crystals of ice everywhere, all a-glimmerin’. Garrick’s fire bolts smashed against the frozen shroud. They blasted up steam in ‘iss after ‘iss ‘til they finally died out. Me spell faded a lick after.

The steam soon went away, but no before wettin’ me face and the brim of me ‘at.

“C’mon you feeble little shit, show me what you got!” I yelled, laughin’.

Garrick screamed sm’more, cryin’ tears like a little newborn.

‘E tossed out long lines of magic at me; ‘e set ‘em afire and whipped ‘em about like theys were tongues. I wove me field back in place and turned on the shield. But I wasn’t quite quick enough. Behind the ‘iss of steam, me ‘at caught fire. I ‘ad to toss it aside; the mud smoked it out.

Fuck ‘im, I thought. Fuck ‘im all the way to the Abyss. ‘E puts mud on me ‘at? Well, I’ll put mud on ‘im! That’s what I thought.

“Fuck you, Garrick!” I yelled at ‘im. I doubt ‘e was listenin’.

I looked. Yeah, ‘e wasn’t listenin’. ‘E was draftin’ up another attack. Tarts.

I sent a field down ‘long the ground and tuned it right. I scooped down ‘long the ground and sent the magic a-flowin, whippin’ it. The spell sprayed mud in drops and balls all over Garrick’s sorry little face. ‘E staggered ‘nd spat, ‘is concentration all broked. It was beautiful.

“Not good at playin’ dirty, are you?” I laughed.

While ‘e fumbled, I drew me field ‘round ‘im like a lasso. And while ‘e tried to fight it off, I tuned it for the next spell. Then I fried ‘im! Heh. I let the spell loose. It crackled fierce; white and bright. I could smell ‘is ‘air bein’ singed by the jolts and bolts. ‘E staggered and fell to ‘is knees, twitchin’ a bit.

You ever played around wit’ lightnin’ before, officer? I’ve been doin’ it for as long as I can remember. You should give it a whack some time. There’s nothin’ like lightnin’ in a bottle—‘scept maybe when you let it out! Heh!

Well, I felt mighty proud of me-self, ’avin’ fended off me attacker. ‘E was on ‘ands and knees, right ‘side the entrance to the alley. I walked up to ‘im; I wanted to make sure ‘e’d learned ‘is lesson. I saw a rake—broken thing—lyin’ against one of the alley walls, so I bent over and reached for it. But suddenly, Garrick leapt up. Wouldn’t you know it, that nasty eloe ‘ad been playin’ a trick on me!

Never trust an eloe, officer. I’d trust me neighbor’s manû ‘ouse-slave lifetimes ‘fore I’d ever trust an eloe. The scammies can all go bite off their own tails, as far’s I care.

Eh, what’s that? “Not germane,” you say? Ah well… I s’pose I ‘ave been ramblin’. Garrick got me pretty good. Course, you can see that wit’ all these bandages wrapped ‘round me ‘ead. Heh.

So… I was about to smack ‘im a few times wit’ the rake for good measure, when ‘e cast a spell at me. I ‘adn’t seen it comin’. E’d prolly shaped the field while ‘e’d been cowerin’ in the mud.

Then, there was a great boosh; you know what I mean, like wind, but wit’out wind. And before I knew it, me rake ‘ad been flung into the buildin’ behind me.

That’s ‘ow missus Quimbly’s window got broken, by the way.

So then—get this—barely ‘ad I set me eyes back on Garrick when ‘is fists erupted in flame—burnin’ blue, I might add! And then ‘e punched me. The eloe punched me wit’ ‘is flamin’ fists! Can you believe that, officer? I still can’t.

I ‘ave to give ‘im credit for that, though. Garrick’s body might ‘ave been like a bunch of twigs but, Dahr, could ‘e punch! It burned; it stung. And I could sense only more was a-comin’.

Me mind was in a whirl. I reached for whatever was left over from me first spell—me shield. I tried to get it up… I tried to get it up, officer, but I wasn’t licky enough. Garrick stopped ‘is punches and wrapped ‘is fire spell ‘round me. All ‘round me body, ‘is cloak of fire met me cloak of frost, and everythin’ ‘issed out in an ‘uge curtain of steam. Spritz… the steam, the steam. Most pain I ever felt. It gushed over me body, searin’ me skin and boilin’ me red like I was some sort of shellfish!

So there I was—burned and bruised. I tried to stay up. I tried to steady me shield, but I couldn’t muster anythin’ more. I couldn’t keep me breath in me lungs. I fell to the ground, right smack onto the mud. I couldn’t even feel ‘im conjurin’ a field all above me. I couldn’t do nothin’.

Garrick cast ‘is spell, pressin’ air and force down on me, squeezin’ me face-down into the mud wit’ the boot-soles of ‘is magic. Mud pressed up against me brow and nose and flooded me tongue. Grit scraped along me chest and bit at me raw flesh. I sputtered ‘nd coughed; I tried to puke. I felt the vise of ‘is magic tightenin’ around me skull. But I couldn’t; each spasm was like somethin’ screamin’ in me, tryin’ to rip its way out. And all the while, ’e screamed and screamed above me ‘ead. The words’re still poundin’ in me skull:

“BEAST!!” ‘e yelled. “BEAST!!” “BEAST!!” Over and over again.

Then ‘e let go of ‘is magic and started kickin’ me in the gut wit’ ‘is fuzzy slippers, screamin’ “BEAST!!” in between kicks. The kicks pushed me onto me back, and then ‘e stomped down on me ‘ead and chest. But by then, I was ‘earin’ more than I felt; I was fallin’ past the point of pain. The last thing I remember ‘earin’ was me ribs crackin’ and things growin’ dim.

I don’t remember anythin’ after that. I woke up ‘ere—right ‘ere—a couple of days ago, wit’ Flimn ‘nd Molly watchin’ over me. It took a long while ‘fore I got back to me senses all right; they told me what ‘ad ‘appened once I finally did.

Flimn told me that ‘e’d grabbed ‘is gun and come rushin’ outta the ‘ouse soon as ‘e ‘eard Garrick ‘ollerin’ me name like a roarin’ scarly, Flimn ran and ran down the street ‘till e’ got close enough to see me leakin’ blood all over the muddy road. ‘E saw the eloe beatin’ me like I was a rug, and put two and two together. Then BOOOOOM! Flim shot ‘im, right in the ‘ead. ‘E tells me Garrick’s brains went all pthbtbtbtbt all over the place. Heh! Must’ve been a mighty fine sight to see; shame I was out of me senses.

But there’s more. Turned out Flimn’s wife, Molly—lovely woman… turned out she’d rushed out of the ‘ouse right after ‘er ‘usband. She’s a nurse down at the clinic, you see. Knows all sorts of stuff ‘bout medicine and ‘ealin magic and whatnot. I owe ‘er me life. She fixed me up enough to be moved, while Flimn went and got ‘is brother in law to ‘elp carry me to me bed, right ‘ere.

And that’s me story, officer. Now, if you don’t mind, all this talkin’ ‘as gotten me achin’ again, so I’m goin’—

—Eh? “Why did ‘e do it?” Oh, you mean Garrick, right?

Well… it was a real funny thing, officer. Me brother’s a good bug; like many folks, ‘e’s right suspicious of magic. So, ‘e makes all ‘is drinks usin’ that mage-bane water stuff. It tastes fine, but I’m not partial to it. Numbs me magic, you see. And that’s no fun at all.

And, well… a couple weeks back, I was alone at the ‘ouse when Gerry—that’s Flimn’s boy—comes over wit’ a couple of ‘is mates. Garrick’s son was one of ‘em. They ask for some snacks, so I give some to ‘em. But, turns out the only thing to drink was that mage-bane stuff. So I gave it to ‘em, and went back to me nap.

Now, you tell me, officer, ‘ow was I s’posed to know that mage-bane made eloei real sick? It’s not me fault the kid died! ‘E shoulda been able to tell it was bad for ‘im, you know? An eloe should know what stuff can kill ‘im. If you ask me, Garrick’s kid was a right moron for not payin’ better attention. Garrick and ‘is stupid boy—they both got what they deserved. That’s what I think.

So, does that clear everythin’ up officer?

It does?

Heh. Well, thank Dahr for that! I’d be right damned if I let a stupid eloe get me in trouble.

Now, please, officer… let me rest. I’m gettin’ tired. Don’t know ‘ow long I’ll ‘ave to stay in bed like this.

Maybe you can stop by for a visit some time? Yes? No? Oh well. Tarts.

Oh, do be a bug and say ‘ello to missus Qimbly for me!