Carl adjusted his pseudo-toga as Daring Do led them to the area in front of the alter, where a long, chest-high table had been set up. Five stools sat up at the end of the table closest to the alter, and one lone one at the farthest end. Boats of a thick brown stew and baskets of bread sat in between the rows of wooden bowls and spoons. Torchlight lit the whole area brightly.

He finally got a solid count of the monastery's population, too. About twenty, total, with males outnumbering the females three-to-one.

Daring perched herself on her stool right away, wincing slightly as she tucked her hind legs under her. Carl grabbed a seat that would put him in the middle, and Brian sat at the end, closest to the head of the table. Amy sat on the far side, eyeing the food angily. Or it might have just been the lack of makeup after the bathhouse, she looked rather... intense... without it.

Zach showed up a few moments later, looking slightly disheveled and carrying a basket of bread. He pushed it up onto the table and sat down next to him with a grin.

"Sup dude. Why are you so happy?" Carl asked.

"Got a job. The chef is cool, he says if I keep working then he'll give us rations for the trip." Zach leaned back to call over to Brian. "The whole trip! Food is set, man!"

"Sweet." Brian said, smoothing out the piece of paper in front of him and scratching into one of the items with a fingernail. Carl had found a quill pen and ink set in one of the guest room nightstands, so Brian had made a list of supplies.

"You say Master Hemok let you stay in his kitchen?" Tirvaru walked up to them, hoof-falls heavy as the population gathered around the table and conversation picked up. He picked up a roll from the basket Zach had brought and bit into it without ceremony.

"Yeah?" Zach asked, confused. Carl got the impression that Zach had unintentionally blown someones mind, again. Like the Home Ed Incident.

"Huh." Tivaru's grunt confirmed it, and the big centaur picked up a bowl and began ladling stew in. "Dig in, dig in. You do the pony thing, waiting for everyone to be ready. Hungry bellies hate to wait."

"Polite is polite, even across cultures." Daring Do said before scooping herself a small amount of stew and adding three rolls to her bowl. She didn't have nearly as much of an issue with the ladle as he thought she would have, just grabbing it with her teeth.

Carl quickly set about catching up before all the food was gone. Brian changed the subject as he helped himself. "I gotta say, for basically being aliens from another dimension around here, everybody seems pretty chill with us wandering around."

"Well, you are not the most unique thing we have encountered here, by far." Tivaru said before raising his voice and calling down the table. "Isn't that right, Master Tigok? Remember the quetzal?"

A centaur further down the line, male with an impressive set of horns, snorted into his soup as he tried not to laugh, several others chuckling as well. "Oh, I remember! Thought being a Feyscape emissary made it lord of all it saw until a yearling stepped on it's tail and made it cry. Politicians."

"Right! Was that not little Sivaro before he left? Besides..." Tivaru turned back to Brian, "You are not entirely unsupervised. We are peaceful, but we are warriors. Saint Charon guides us to protect this valley, and more than once has turned back those who want to use it's offerings."

"Oh." Amy nodded. "I guess that explains the general buffness. And the spears. And the air of 'peace or we kick your asses.'"

Warrior Monks, huh? Carl took a big bite of the stew. It was very rich, and he had never thought that there was such a thing as too much flavor before. He nudged Zach.

"Bro, what with the soup? It's... strong." Carl whispered.

"Carnivores." Zach muttered back. "Turns out they can't taste very well, so more spices. They're not pure meat-eaters, they use a lot of veggies as filler, but it shows. That's what Master Hemok said, anyway."

Carl nodded. Great. At least it's edible, though. He looked at Daring, who was dipping the end of her roll in the stew. Carl followed suit, and the bread tamed the flavor to tolerable levels. Not bad.

Brian continued what amounted to an interrogation of Daring Do and Tivaru about the area and culture, and Carl quickly lost interest. He was feeling oddly restless. The last twenty-four hours had been an utter whirlwind that felt like it took far longer, and downtime felt foreign. His mind wandered, and he found himself wondering what would be the best place to hole up if it was attacked, then caught himself. C'mon, man, you're safe here. You don't want a fight. Right? That's not cool.

"So names are titles, as well?" Amy was asking to his left. Carl pulled himself back to the present and identified that the female centaur that had been helping them, Sicarei, had joined them.

"Not quite. The 'Ti' is a claim to one's role in life. Any adult centaur may claim it at any time. However, it must be done while taking that life-role, and anyone may challenge it. It is most honorable to accept and overcome such a challenge." Sicarei explained.

"So, you're like, still a kid?" Carl asked. "You look the same age as most of them. How old are you, man?"

"Carl!" Amy gasped. "This is why you never had a girlfriend!"

Carl pouted. "That's cold, man!"

Sicarei, at least, took it in stride. "No, it is fine... I simply have not found my challenge yet. It it very peaceful here."

The centaur to her right nodded. "Peace is a blessing, but it requires great patience for a warrior to claim their place. Even one as old as yourself, little-horns."

"Shut your face-hole, Tiyun. You tend plants." Sicarei shot back.

"I tend plants best, little horns. You practice for a fight that will never come, all day." Tiyun sneered.

"Anyway, I think it's fascinating." Amy interrupted. "And we could certainly use some training if you can. We're not exactly warriors."

"Historically, you have some potential." Daring Do said, popping the last of her rolls into her mouth and reaching for another from the basket. She noticed everyone was looking at her and swallowed. "There are some stuff of humans or human-like races being powerful beings when they show up. Most end with the human disappearing, if the end can be found at all. You guys look make those look a little exaggerated."

"Cheery." Brian said. "Any about the humans going home? Or more recent stories?"

Daring shook her head. "The most recent are from over two-hundred years ago. Some upstart warlord started a campaign then vanished from the record books a month in. War kept going for a year before it stalled in Delphi Basin. Nasty piece of work, necromancy was involved by the end."

Brian lowered his head into his hands. "Hopefully our reputation as complete assholes doesn't precede us."

"You are fine, you are fine." Tivaru laughed, wiping out his bowl with a piece of bread. "I have fought in wars beside the forces of Equestria before, and you do not seem the dangerous type. Young, and well-meaning."

"And kinda squishy." Carl added. We'd get steamrolled. I don't think anything I could learn in that book could win against one of these guys. I bet they get damage reduction, too.

"And soft, yes. Not exactly the 'pillage and burn' type." Tivaru nodded. "And as such, you may stay as long as you need so long as you pull your weight. If you don't wish to work you may still sleep here, but you do not eat our food past the first day. That is the centaur law of hospitality."

Daring hopped off of her stool. "It's a bit rough, but fair. They don't actually ask for much."

Carl stood up himself. He wanted to get away from the gathering as soon as he could. "Seems legit. I'm happy to not sleep on the ground again. And actually sleep."

"Not yet, you aren't." Brian grabbed him by the back of his robe. "We're getting everything we can done to fill our funds, so I volunteered us for dishwashing-duty earlier today. Zach cooked. You're helping."

Carl did his best impression of a cat being dragged to the bath as Brian pulled him along before relenting. Dirty dishes it was.

***

... with the Words of the cryonic projection segment, precision must be used in selecting the angle of the projection. Mispronunciation of a Draconic "am" can result in the field being too wide, only causing minor reduction in the surrounding temperature, while drawing out the third vowel can result in a beam that collapses inward to ineffective ranges or even turns back on the caster. More uncommon errors include...

Carl took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. The font was horrifically tiny, and he kept having to stop and pick out the meaning of particularly complex words. So far he had a solid understanding for what he needed to prepare a Flare spell, but that was less than useful on it's own. He was halfway through the three pages dedicated to the easiest offensive spell he could find.

"You alright?" Amy called over at him from where she was watching her brother. Brian had his paper and quill pen out again, hand-copying a map lent to them by Tivaru. They were taking turns, it looked like painfully slow work. Zach lay still, looking at the pattern of wood boards and straw on the ceiling.

"Yeah, just tired." Carl said slowly, looking blankly at the blurry shape of the book on his lap. Crushing emptiness surrounded him as his mind replayed the split-second actions of their battle on the tower roof last night. And afterward, as he had been looking over Amy as she lay unconscious, trying to find something, anything he could do to help. Treat for shock. Treat for shock. Nothing but treat for shock.

"Guys... are we gonna be ok?"

Carl surprised himself. He hadn't meant to say anything.

Zach sat up. "Yeah, man, why wouldn't we be? We're out of the frying pan and... um... well, I don't think there is a fire."

Carl shrugged. "Looks like it, right, dude? But what next? We're kinda helpless."

"It's ok, Carl," Amy sighed, "I know what you mean. But we have a plan. We know what the next step is. It'll be rough, but just one day at a time."

Carl closed his book, setting it on the corner of his giant centaur bed. "I know. I think I was kinda stoked about this, this time yesterday. But now I feel like we're getting trolled by the universe for shits-n-giggles."

"Don't worry." Brian stopped drawing and put aside his materials. "We're only completely fucked. Everything is fine."

"Not helping, dude." Carl said.

"Sorry." Brian sighed. "And I'm sorry to you too, Zach. I shouldn't have yelled at you yesterday."

"Huh?" Zach looked very confused for a moment. "Oh, that? No, it's fine, this whole thing is my fault-"

"Like hell it is." Brian growled. Carl braced himself for an outburst that didn't quite come. "I was that merchant. None of us could predict that. If you took the sword, then someone beat us up in a back alley, that would be your fault, but no..."

"Easy, Bri." Amy chided. Brian took a deep breath.

"Point is it's that creeper's fault, and if we run into him he get's one chance to fix everything." Brian leaned over and grabbed one of the spare sheets of fabric, curling up and pulling it over himself. "I'm going to sleep."

Amy reached up and turned the knob on the hanging lantern until it went out. Carl leaned back, pulling his Giant Wizard Hat from next to him over to cover his head.

Treat for shock...

Carl opened his eyes. He didn't remember closing them and wasn't sure he had slept at all, but all the torchlight outside was gone. It was definitely late at night. He curled up tighter against the cool air, feeling tiny on the bed. Crickets chirped back and fourth outside.

Mispronunciation of a Draconic "am" can result in the field being too wide, only causing minor reduction in the surrounding temperature...

I'm going crazy. Carl sat up, trying not to sigh. He thought he had this down, that he could take any and all of the stress the world could throw at him. I guess this wasn't the world I was prepared for.

"Carl?" Zach whispered from the next bed over. "You alright?"

"Cold, dude." Carl whispered back. It wasn't really the problem, but most people left him alone if he gave a throwaway answer.

"Oh. Me too." Zach pulled his legs up to his chest.

They stayed silent for a bit, and Carl just sat there, staring blankly out into the room. His vision was terrible, he could barely make out the shapes of everyone but he wasn't really looking. He just wanted to know they were there. He didn't want to go back to sleep and be stuck as the only one who could help.

He realized Amy's eyes weren't closed either. She was staring out the door, he guessed.

"Nobody can sleep, can they?" Carl whispered to the room at large.

Brian rolled over. "Daring Do is out cold."

Daring punctuated that with a soft snore. Carl sighed.

"Bri, it's freezing." Amy complained, getting up. "Scoot over."

Brian pulled off the sheet, letting Amy climb up with him. Carl decided to take refuge in audacity. It worked most of the time.

He stood and padded his way over to the other bed. He couldn't see Brian's expression in the darkness, but he imagined it was confused.

"No homo, man. She's got the right idea."

"No homo." Brian confirmed, making room.

It was warmer, at least. Carl really didn't want it to be weird, but it was much more comfortable with a body next to him.

"Weirdos." Zach muttered.

Two minutes later Zach joined them, silently. Carl tugged the sheet over to cover some of him.

Amy's breathing was the first to become regular, slow and peaceful. Carl tried his hardest to match it, keeping still so as not to disturb anyone.

Before he knew it he was fast asleep.

***

Carl just chilled through the next morning. Brian had gone out to ask around for jobs, Zach took off to the kitchen again and Amy had went to track down their original clothes.

So he sat on the bed, put on his glasses and opened the spellbook again.

He had dedicated himself to intense study before, it had been usual behavior when he got a copy of a older or complex simulator game. X-Wing vs. TIE Fighter had locked him up for an afternoon between the surprisingly thick manual and the various guides on how to make the old game run on his computer, then again after getting annihilated in the first mission and promptly looking up a tutorial. DCS A-10C had been far worse of a learning curve yet he pulled that off on the first try, but never had he fully applied himself like this. He wasn't going to get a chance to reboot and restart. He had to be on-point.

... With precise positioning of the fingers, a fifteen-degree twist clockwise will cast the spell if coincided with the chosen Words of Triggering. It is not recommended to relax these tolerances with the addition of Quickening clauses, to prevent foul casting during casual conversation-

"There you are!" Brian startled Carl out of his focus. He threw a bundle of tunic, pants, boots and socks at him. "Suit up, space cowboy. We got shit to do. How's the magic going?"

"Fucking mind-blowing, dude. I have no idea how it works, but I think I can get it to work." Carl rubbed his eyes, jumping up and yanking off the sheets of his toga. Brian was already wearing his black shirt and baggy pants, looking less bloodstained with rough stitching holding the holes in his sleeve together.

"Cool." Brian looked away pointedly as Carl got dressed. "Head to the front gate, you're cleaning moss out of the walls. Tivaru said it wasn't gonna be hard, just some chores."

Carl finished tugging his boots on and grabbed his Giant Wizard Hat, jamming it on his head. "It's cleaning. Man, can I just stay inside? Any librarians or some shit that want helpers? I don't wanna work."

Brian shrugged. "I'll ask tomorrow, but just do your best for now. I gotta go find Amy, we're fixing roofs."

Carl wandered out of the guest house, scuffing his boots as he went. Welcome to the new normal, I guess. Same as the old normal, but with backfireing Rays of Frost.

This was the first time Carl thought such a thought, but it was certainly not the last.

To be continued in Chapter Seven: Solo Queue

Author's Note

Things Mr. Welch is No Longer Allowed to Do in an RPG #863: Bigby's Offensive Finger is not a real spell.

Mastery is stubbornness multiplied by time. Luck is the ability to make the most of a situation. Fairness is an illusion you let the enemy have so they can be crushed utterly. All of these together make sick-ass plays.
- overheard in the bay12 forums