Cinnamon Bun

“Hi! My name is Broccoli Bunch!” I declared with one arm raised to headheight and waving. “This is Orange,” I said as I raised my other hand to show off my cute kitty companion. Orange glared at my new potential friends.

There were three of them, two if I didn’t count Milread. Both were grenoil, one a boy and the other a girl.

“Hello”, the man said with a nod of his big froggy head. He had a neat speckled pattern across his skin that I had never seen on a grenoil before and a pair of strange goggles hanging around his neck. Other than that, he looked like a business grenoil that had taken a tumble into some mud.

The girl grenoil looked a lot younger and a whole lot sadder. Her focus was almost entirely on the ground underfoot, one hand absently rubbing at the pommel of her rapier-like sword.

“You two ready to head out?” Milread asked. When she got nods from both of them she turned towards a one-horse wagon sitting in the middle of the road. “Well then, we just need to settle and we can be off. Broccoli, you missed it, but I’m charging a sil for the trip. It’s mostly to keep Missy fed.”

“Is Missy the horse?” I guessed as I took in the horse hitched to the wagon, she--I guessed her gender because a boy horse called Missy would be a little strange--looked like a perfectly ordinary horse.

“That’s right. Missy will save us some walking,” Milread said. “I hope one of you feels like holding the reins, I hate wearing gloves.” She wiggled her hands to show the long talons she had.

The two grenoil found some coins to hand over to Milread, and I did the same. One sil wasn’t much for a multi-day trip. In fact, that was a great place to start a conversation. “So, Milread, why are you heading to Port Royal?” I asked.

“I’m a courier. I go from Port Royal to this outpost to Fort Tempete and then Deepmarsh and back. Round trip takes about two weeks. It’s a living.” The harpy flapped her arms and kicked off the ground to land on the forward part of the wagon where a bench was built into it.

The other two hopped onto the back so I decided to join her at the front.

“All aboard?” Milread asked. “If you forgot something back here, it’s not my problem.” She grabbed the reins from a hook next to which a lantern was hanging and handed them over to me. “You’ve done this before?” she asked.

“Nope, but I like horses,” I said as I took the reins. “Yah!” I screamed as I whipped the long leather cords.

When the wagon finally stopped I ended up being sat in the back with the grenoil man.

The floor of the wagon wasn’t very comfortable, especially since it was a small wagon with only two wheels and I was sitting right on top of the axle so that--even across the flattened ground in the outpost--my bum was bouncing all over the place and was going to get sore in no time.

I ended up pulling out all the blankets I had and placing them on the floor to act as padding. The grenoil across from me harrumphed then did the same, pulling out a thick quilt from his pack and sitting on it with a humph.

We moved past the gates of the outpost and I waved to the two guards who looked just as bored today as they did the day before. One of them even waved back.

And then we were on the road.

“So, why were you in Rockstack?” I asked the grenoil man.

The grenoil looked at me. “You’re a chatty one, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Yup! I sure am.”

“Great. I was here for ze dungeon. I got what I came for, so now I’m heading home.” He leaned against the wooden sides of the wagon, then shifted to try and get comfortable.

“You live in Port Royal?” I asked. “Ohh, I didn’t get your name. I’m sorry. I’m Broccoli Bunch.”

“Severin Bleriot,” he said. “And no, I don’t.”

The grenoil girl leaned back a bit. “I’m Noemi,” she said.

“This is great,” I said. “I’m making so many friends today.” The wagon went over a rut on the road and I laughed as I had to grab the edge to stop from tumbling around.

“World’s tits, what kind of potion is she on?” Noemi muttered. I don’t think I was supposed to hear that, so I didn’t comment. I wasn’t on any sort of potion, not unless friendship was a drug, in which case I was an addict.

“So, mister Severin, if you’re not from Port Royal, where are you from?” I asked. We were moving at a fairly slow pace, no faster than I could walk really, but without any of the effort that came from walking. If it wasn’t for all the friend-making potential on the trip, I might have found it a little boring.

The older grenoil closed his eyes. “I’m from Deepmarsh,” he said.

“That’s twice now I’ve heard about Deepmarsh, is that a town nearby?”

Severin opened his eyes and stared at me. “It’s ze capital of ze kingdom. Ze Kingdom of Deepmarsh... Ze Kingdom we’re in right now.”

My smile became a little fixed. “I kind of got lost,” I said. “And I didn’t exactly have a map, you know?”

Milread looked over her shoulder. “Why didn’t you just open your map?”

“My map?” I asked.

The harpy sighed. “I know not everyone uses it, but did you really not know? Focus on the idea of a map, your magic should take care of the rest.”

I did as she asked, because even if it was a joke, and it didn’t feel like one, there was nothing to lose. It took a bit of focus, but I felt as if I had an option just waiting there that I had never toyed with, like an itch that I didn’t notice until it was suddenly the only thing I could focus on.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I said as I stared. I could see all of Threewells and the curving path I took to get from where I had appeared all the way to Rockstack. “I had a map the entire time? Does it auto-update? That is, if I leave, and the area changes, will my map reflect that if I don’t know about it?”

“No, it doesn’t work zat way,” Severin said. I had the impression he was enjoying my disbelief. “What level are you at? I don’t recall seeing you wiz ze other delvers.”

“I’m level five,” I said, my attention still on the map. It was obvious that the scale was off, but it was pretty accurate as far as I could tell. Everything I had seen was there, with big gaps for the places I hadn’t really explored except from afar. “Gosh I could have used this this past week.”

“A poorly educated human, you must be from Mattergrove,” Severin said. “I assume zat you’re heading to Port Royal to find passage back home?”

I looked away from the map for a moment to refocus on Severin. “Eh? No, no, I’m heading there to join the exploration guild and make a ton of friends!”

“Ah, an explorer. I suppose zat would make us rivals,” Severin said.

“Rivals?” I asked.

He nodded. “Ze exploration and delvers guilds have been at each ozer's zroats for generations. It’s mostly harmless, zough I’m sure some eyes were browned in a bar fight or two over ze years.”

“I guess that’s okay,” I said. “As long as it means we can still be friends.”

Severin pressed his hands over his face. “Lady Hawk, would it be possible for your horse to move any faster?” he asked.

“Don’t be grumpy you old frog,” Milread said. “The kid isn’t that bad. She’s just trying to make nice.”

“Tch, fine. My apologies, miss Bunch. I did not mean to be short wiz you.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I come on a little strong sometimes. But I get so excited when I meet new people. I just want to be their friend right away, but most people need a bit of work before they’re ready for that.”

“I... see?” Severin said. “Well, you have two days to get used to us and us to you.”

“Joy,” Noemi muttered. It earned her a wing in the ribs from Milread.

I tried to be nice and stayed quiet for a little bit. Instead of talking I scratched Orange, who had crawled down to my lap at some point, behind the ears as I took in the fresh air and lack of sunshine. The skies were still a dreary grey and the roads were covered in little puddles, but at least the rain hadn’t returned. The forests were... forests. I had been seeing forests all day.

“So, what class are you, Severin?” I asked by accident. The question had just kind of slipped out.

The grenoil croaked. “I’m a Mudmancer.”

“Like a mud wizard?” I asked. “That’s neat. So is it its own... branch of magic or is it a combo or like, earth and water? Wait, where’s your staff?”

“I do not need to carry around a large stick to validate my masculinity,” Severin said. He flicked his hand and a wand appeared between his fingers, a long piece of dark wood with silvery carvings all along its sides and a metal band near the handle.

“I carry a spear,” I said before poking my spear with my foot. “I wonder what that says about my masculinity?” Milread snorted and even Noemi chuckled.

I had made my friends laugh! Bun one, lack of friends, zero!

“So, does having a wand help you cast spells?” I asked.

“You don’t know anyzing about magic, do you?” he asked.

“Nobody taught me,” I said. “If you want you could teach me, I’m an avid listener!”

His wand flicked away back into his sleeve. “Teachers are paid,” he said.

“I have some coins,” I said before pulling out my little pouch of coppers.

Severin eyed the pouch, then me for a moment. “I suppose it’s ze choice between talking myself or hearing you prattle all ze way over to Port Royal, isn’t it?”

“I am an excellent prattler.” I reached into my pack and found my scroll of fireball and held it up. “Would this help any?” I asked.

He took it from me and unfolded it with an expert flick. It wasn’t his first magic scroll, I guessed. “Yes actually, zis would. You’ve been trying to learn zis spell?”

“I wish I could start to try. I don’t know the first thing about casting spells so I’m mostly just getting confused by all the diagrams.”

The wagon bumped and hitched along the road for nearly a full minute before Severin made up his mind. “Very well. Two sil for two days of teaching. To be paid ze moment you cast your first fireball. It’s a weak spell, a beginner one, it should be easy enough.”

I scooted over so that I was on Severin’s side and could see the scroll at the same time as him. He looked a little uncomfortable at that, but didn’t protest. “Okay! I’m ready to learn. I really want my next general skill to be fireball or something awesome like that.”

“Zat would take some time, depending on your class.”

“My class matters?” I asked.

He nodded. "You will tend towards skills zat suit your class most of ze time. You’re a...” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Cinnamon Bun? Never heard of zat one, but it doesn’t sound like a magic-focused class.”

I thought that snooping at a person’s class was rude, but Severin didn’t seem to care. “I don’t think it is. It's more like a... bard class, but without the music, I think.”

“A social class zen,” he said. “Learning a magic skill will be complicated zen, but not impossible. At ze very least you can make ze effort to cast zis spell, skill or no.” He rolled the scroll up until only the first dozen lines were visible. “Zis one is outside of my specialty, but I zink teaching it will be simple. But if you know nozing about magic zen we will not skip ahead.”

“I’m ready to learn! I said.