That same evening, once everyone was done with their supper, Redford asked Archibald to join him for a private conversation. The big man agreed, albeit with a slightly confused expression. He thought that the captain of the caravan guards would ask him to join or train them again…
“Sir Malcolm… I don’t know how to say this in a nice way, so I apologize in advance. So, um… Could you please tell your son not to join any battle unless we call for his help?” Red started awkwardly once he was alone with Archibald.
Archibald was stunned. For a moment he recalled what his son had told him earlier today. He hadn’t noticed anything odd back then.
Seeing the way his passenger was looking at him Red started explaining.
“You see, it’s not about the ears we didn’t collect. In fact what your son had done could be considered as reducing the casualties for both sides. And…” Red paused for a moment, thinking of how to put it diplomatically, “I’m certain that those people will never think of banditry again. Even if they starve to death. It’s just that some of my boys are traumatized as well. That little Mark boy in particular. He’ll probably give up adventuring as soon as we make a stop at Millstone...”
Archibald had no idea what Red was talking about.
“Please, wait. My son told me he had killed over a dozen bandits, and that he was tired. Right, he also said that he didn’t move too far away from the caravan. I think that was all.”
“Um, Sir Malcolm, saying that he had killed them is an understatement... The most intact corpse had a gaping hole through its head.” Seeing that Archibald was about to say something Red hurriedly continued.
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I pity those people. Quite the opposite; I’m ruthless when it comes to their ilk. They might be peasants taking up weapons out of desperation today, but tomorrow that would no longer be the case.
“All it takes is a slight nudge to turn an innocent man into a murderer. Then they would run into a caravan that has women aboard, and they’d only make another small compromise to become rapists. Step by step they would become hardened criminals with countless sins on their conscience. Better to nip them in the bud, both for them, and for the rest of the world–” The man was talking fast, trying to make it apparent that he’s not pitying the dead bandits, but Archibald didn’t care about that.
Instead he just wanted to say something rather simple and non-judgemental.
“Stop, stop. I know how decent folk turn into criminals. Would you mind telling me exactly what happened? From the beginning please...”
***
“Son, we have to talk for a bit,” Archibald said with a worried tone as he entered their wagon.
He wasn’t worried about his son's mental stability. Wolf was strong and Archibald was fairly certain he wasn’t a psychopath.
The things Red said were troublesome, if taken out of context. However, Archibald knew that his boy laughing, combined with shouts of “Good” and “Not good”, most likely meant something else. Wolf was probably happy about discovering things with regards to Sword-Sage maneuvers.
Archibald was only a bit worried with the way Wolf coped with death. Maybe he shouldn’t have told him that his mother would reincarnate, and lead a brand new happy life after dying? Even though that was the prevalent religious dogma, there was no proof, and everyone just believed it...
Maybe that fanatical faith in his father’s words had twisted the boy? While Archibald was filled with doubt, Wolf acted calmly.
“Sure dad, is it about what that mister Red called you over for?” The boy seemed to have expected this.
“Kind of. It’s not about his complaints. You shouldn’t pay much attention to them. People always have their own opinion on everything. But there is something I’d like to ask. Could you tell me what it was that you’d found funny when killing those people? Why did you laugh?” The man did his best not to sound judgmental, or like he was attacking the boy.
“There was nothing funny about it. I laughed when I figured out how to use specific maneuvers, but, towards the end, I overexerted myself. I’ve already told you that.” Wolf spoke seriously and, as far as Archibald could tell, with complete honesty. Though he did have that don’t you trust me look kids gave their parents when talking about something for the second time.
The big man nodded his head, relaxing a bit without even noticing it. Everything was fine. Now came the hard part.
“Son, you shouldn’t laugh when killing people. No matter what the reason, or even if something really funny did happen.” Archibald started slowly, minding his tone.
“Why?” Wolf asked with that face children put on when grownups said something that didn’t make sense.
“Because it gives off a bad and false impression to others. People will think you have certain mental issues.” Archibald explained patiently.
“But you just said I shouldn’t mind other people, since they have their opinion on everything.” Wolf watched his father without blinking, waiting to see what the big man would say. Fortunately Archibald had already expected this and didn’t falter.
“Sometimes, even though you don’t value a person’s opinion you have to respect it. Otherwise conflicts and fights may happen. For now, we are traveling with a Johns and Josh merchant group caravan. You might think that their opinion is silly, but to avoid a fight you should follow certain rules. But it’s not just that. Laughing when someone dies is bad. Do you remember what you did to that boy that laughed because your mother was dead?” As he spoke Archibald saw his boy’s face turn cold.
A moment later Wolf nodded once. He could agree with this way of thinking. There was no reason for that boy not to laugh, but it made Wolf feel bad. He shouldn’t do things like that to other people.
“I understand. Thank you for explaining it dad. Is that all?”
“There’s one more thing. Mister Red asked you not to interfere with their battles unless they ask for help.” Archibald was glad that his words got through to Wolf. He was relieved that his boy did have empathy and understanding for others.
“Sure.” Wolf said indifferently.
After seeing how much Internal Energy he’d wasted today he wasn’t in a hurry to spend it again. It took two weeks of eating that tough bear meat just for five minutes of fighting. Maybe even less than five.
Wolf was currently unaware that the uncomfortable feeling he had was from being in a World Energy poor environment without reserves. In a place with more readily available energy, a Sword-Sage could use up almost all of their Internal Energy without suffering such discomfort.
After a couple of moments of silence, Wolf had another question.
“Dad, are there any other things that make people uncomfortable?”
Archibald smiled. His boy was trying to figure out how not to hurt people. It was kind of fresh, since up until now, all he did was try to learn how to kill them.
“Plenty, but they all depend on the person. Some groups of people find eating meat offensive, while others think the same about cheese or vegetables. I'll tell you the most common ones. Basically, just watch out for the cues and you’ll be fine…”
***
Three weeks later the caravan made a stop at a medium sized town. The place was called Millstone. It was considerably larger than Iceowl, which was located in the border region, near a hostile empire.
Wolf was no longer impressed with the buildings, nor the large number of people moving about.
He didn’t curse that peddler once, even though the man did cross his mind. It was obvious that he would forget about the whole thing soon enough. Unlike what the ancient man had said, Wolf didn’t get a single laugh out of the whole thing. He just felt embarrassed at his own stupid naivety.
Over the last couple of weeks Wolf’s vocabulary saw the addition of a large number of curse words. The caravan guards even used some Archibald had never heard before when fending off two more bandit raids. Johns and Josh merchant groups' guards suffered them without asking for Wolf’s aid.
“Boss, how long are we staying here?” Derek, one of the guards walking on foot, asked Red when they passed a brothel.
Seeing a large number of prospective customers, the ladies working in the establishment also walked out. The women were waving, giggling and batting their eyelashes.
“We’ll be staying for three days. Once we settle down at the Dancing Pony you’re free to do whatever you want for two days, the last day you have to sober up though.” Red loudly answered the question, eliciting a cheer from everyone ranging from the wagon drivers to the mounted guards.
The only one quiet was Mark. Just as Red had guessed, the young adventurer had seen enough bloodshed, and planned on changing his profession.
Meanwhile, Wolf was also looking at the scantily dressed prostitutes. It was midsummer and even the usually cold Northshield was warm enough for men to walk around shirtless.
Seeing a couple of bolder women do the same, and proudly put their assets on display elicited a reaction from the boy.
“Um… Dad… Those women are doing that same winking as those at the Honest Man’s Place…” Wolf wanted to say something about the fake smiles and tired looks, but faltered for words while focusing on breasts.
Archibald didn’t say anything for a moment. Wolf would be turning nine in a couple of weeks. That was still some three years away from being of age. Explaining sex, prostitutes and other related items was not something he wanted to do now. The big man was a notorious procrastinator when it came to things he didn’t want to do.
Instead Archibald chose to use a different approach.
“You sure like them big son.” Archibald said nonchalantly. Talking about women always caused Wolf to falter. “Which one do you like better? The taller one with the transparent negligee, or the shorter one that’s not wearing a top?”
As expected, Wolf blushed and turned away. Archibald had noticed that Wolf would ogle women with ample breasts even back at Iceowl. The big man thought that he was imagining it, but the way the boy stared at the clerk at the Adventurers’ Guild confirmed it.
Archibald thought that Wolf was too young to be acting like that, but then again that was coming from a man that never really developed a strong passion towards the fairer sex. Even with Sky, an unparalleled beauty, any intimate contact stopped as soon as it was confirmed that the woman was pregnant.
Wolf didn’t answer his father’s question. He had a memory of comfortably sleeping on a nude woman’s ample bosom that kept creeping back whenever he saw women that had similar figures. However, he never brought this up, for some reason thinking his father was the wrong kind of person to talk to about this subject.
Instead Wolf closed his eyes, and went back to smoothing out the sixth column. Hopefully Archibald would wake him up when they reach the inn.
***
“Are you sure you don’t want to continue traveling with us?” Red asked, but he was kind of half-hearted about it.
He already knew that this youth was a lost cause. Still, he felt obliged to go through with this. The kid was young, honest and hardworking. He was no knight, but he knew how to use a sword well enough to cut the person on the other end. With time and training, he could become a competent warrior. Gods know that, because of the times, Red had recruited worse characters than Mark.
“You’ve been of great help, and the gang really likes you. Johns and Josh could use people like you,” Red said as he finished his short speech.
As soon as the group had settled down in the Dancing Pony the young adventurer approached Red, and told him that he was quitting.
“Thank you for your kindness, mister Red, but I don’t think I can do this. I think I’ll try my luck as a guard in some shop, or something.” The sight of so much carnage had shaken the young man to the core. He decided that, unless forced, he didn’t want to live his life like that…
Red understood everything immediately. This young man wasn’t from a family desperate for money. He seemed to be desperate for adventure, but all he got was killing people week after week.
“How about you follow us to Bluelake, the next town over? We’ve got a store there, and I can put in a good word for you.”
“Thank you, I think I’ll be staying here for a while.” The youth looked at Red with an odd expression, which Red couldn’t quite read.
Fear? Disgust? Pity? Red wondered, but didn’t mind it. Living a life of bloodshed on the road wasn’t for everyone. Even the life of a caravan master, who was a master of the merchant trade, wasn't suitable for all merchants. People would only take it up after they had settled the matters of family and had offspring that could take over in case anything happened to them.
“If that’s what you want…” Red started, but then acted like he’d changed his mind. “You know what, let me write you a letter of recommendation at least. It won’t take long, and having one won’t hurt.”
Seeing that Red was adamant on the subject Mark didn’t object. A couple of minutes later the youth left holding a small pouch of coins and a white envelope with a Johns and Josh seal.
Archibald’s lessons:
Orcs and goblins live considerably shorter than other manlings. Orcs usually die of old age before hitting fifty, while goblins rarely make it past forty. Then again, they are fully grown at the age of seven. As I’ve already said before, nature is fair.
Author's note:
Apparently, my chapter titles were out of whack on this site. If you notice anything similar, please leave a comment for me to fix it.
That same evening, once everyone was done with their supper, Redford asked Archibald to join him for a private conversation. The big man agreed, albeit with a slightly confused expression. He thought that the captain of the caravan guards would ask him to join or train them again…
“Sir Malcolm… I don’t know how to say this in a nice way, so I apologize in advance. So, um… Could you please tell your son not to join any battle unless we call for his help?” Red started awkwardly once he was alone with Archibald.
Archibald was stunned. For a moment he recalled what his son had told him earlier today. He hadn’t noticed anything odd back then.
Seeing the way his passenger was looking at him Red started explaining.
“You see, it’s not about the ears we didn’t collect. In fact what your son had done could be considered as reducing the casualties for both sides. And…” Red paused for a moment, thinking of how to put it diplomatically, “I’m certain that those people will never think of banditry again. Even if they starve to death. It’s just that some of my boys are traumatized as well. That little Mark boy in particular. He’ll probably give up adventuring as soon as we make a stop at Millstone...”
Archibald had no idea what Red was talking about.
“Please, wait. My son told me he had killed over a dozen bandits, and that he was tired. Right, he also said that he didn’t move too far away from the caravan. I think that was all.”
“Um, Sir Malcolm, saying that he had killed them is an understatement... The most intact corpse had a gaping hole through its head.” Seeing that Archibald was about to say something Red hurriedly continued.
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I pity those people. Quite the opposite; I’m ruthless when it comes to their ilk. They might be peasants taking up weapons out of desperation today, but tomorrow that would no longer be the case.
“All it takes is a slight nudge to turn an innocent man into a murderer. Then they would run into a caravan that has women aboard, and they’d only make another small compromise to become rapists. Step by step they would become hardened criminals with countless sins on their conscience. Better to nip them in the bud, both for them, and for the rest of the world–” The man was talking fast, trying to make it apparent that he’s not pitying the dead bandits, but Archibald didn’t care about that.
Instead he just wanted to say something rather simple and non-judgemental.
“Stop, stop. I know how decent folk turn into criminals. Would you mind telling me exactly what happened? From the beginning please...”
***
“Son, we have to talk for a bit,” Archibald said with a worried tone as he entered their wagon.
He wasn’t worried about his son's mental stability. Wolf was strong and Archibald was fairly certain he wasn’t a psychopath.
The things Red said were troublesome, if taken out of context. However, Archibald knew that his boy laughing, combined with shouts of “Good” and “Not good”, most likely meant something else. Wolf was probably happy about discovering things with regards to Sword-Sage maneuvers.
Archibald was only a bit worried with the way Wolf coped with death. Maybe he shouldn’t have told him that his mother would reincarnate, and lead a brand new happy life after dying? Even though that was the prevalent religious dogma, there was no proof, and everyone just believed it...
Maybe that fanatical faith in his father’s words had twisted the boy? While Archibald was filled with doubt, Wolf acted calmly.
“Sure dad, is it about what that mister Red called you over for?” The boy seemed to have expected this.
“Kind of. It’s not about his complaints. You shouldn’t pay much attention to them. People always have their own opinion on everything. But there is something I’d like to ask. Could you tell me what it was that you’d found funny when killing those people? Why did you laugh?” The man did his best not to sound judgmental, or like he was attacking the boy.
“There was nothing funny about it. I laughed when I figured out how to use specific maneuvers, but, towards the end, I overexerted myself. I’ve already told you that.” Wolf spoke seriously and, as far as Archibald could tell, with complete honesty. Though he did have that don’t you trust me look kids gave their parents when talking about something for the second time.
The big man nodded his head, relaxing a bit without even noticing it. Everything was fine. Now came the hard part.
“Son, you shouldn’t laugh when killing people. No matter what the reason, or even if something really funny did happen.” Archibald started slowly, minding his tone.
“Why?” Wolf asked with that face children put on when grownups said something that didn’t make sense.
“Because it gives off a bad and false impression to others. People will think you have certain mental issues.” Archibald explained patiently.
“But you just said I shouldn’t mind other people, since they have their opinion on everything.” Wolf watched his father without blinking, waiting to see what the big man would say. Fortunately Archibald had already expected this and didn’t falter.
“Sometimes, even though you don’t value a person’s opinion you have to respect it. Otherwise conflicts and fights may happen. For now, we are traveling with a Johns and Josh merchant group caravan. You might think that their opinion is silly, but to avoid a fight you should follow certain rules. But it’s not just that. Laughing when someone dies is bad. Do you remember what you did to that boy that laughed because your mother was dead?” As he spoke Archibald saw his boy’s face turn cold.
A moment later Wolf nodded once. He could agree with this way of thinking. There was no reason for that boy not to laugh, but it made Wolf feel bad. He shouldn’t do things like that to other people.
“I understand. Thank you for explaining it dad. Is that all?”
“There’s one more thing. Mister Red asked you not to interfere with their battles unless they ask for help.” Archibald was glad that his words got through to Wolf. He was relieved that his boy did have empathy and understanding for others.
“Sure.” Wolf said indifferently.
After seeing how much Internal Energy he’d wasted today he wasn’t in a hurry to spend it again. It took two weeks of eating that tough bear meat just for five minutes of fighting. Maybe even less than five.
Wolf was currently unaware that the uncomfortable feeling he had was from being in a World Energy poor environment without reserves. In a place with more readily available energy, a Sword-Sage could use up almost all of their Internal Energy without suffering such discomfort.
After a couple of moments of silence, Wolf had another question.
“Dad, are there any other things that make people uncomfortable?”
Archibald smiled. His boy was trying to figure out how not to hurt people. It was kind of fresh, since up until now, all he did was try to learn how to kill them.
“Plenty, but they all depend on the person. Some groups of people find eating meat offensive, while others think the same about cheese or vegetables. I'll tell you the most common ones. Basically, just watch out for the cues and you’ll be fine…”
***
Three weeks later the caravan made a stop at a medium sized town. The place was called Millstone. It was considerably larger than Iceowl, which was located in the border region, near a hostile empire.
Wolf was no longer impressed with the buildings, nor the large number of people moving about.
He didn’t curse that peddler once, even though the man did cross his mind. It was obvious that he would forget about the whole thing soon enough. Unlike what the ancient man had said, Wolf didn’t get a single laugh out of the whole thing. He just felt embarrassed at his own stupid naivety.
Over the last couple of weeks Wolf’s vocabulary saw the addition of a large number of curse words. The caravan guards even used some Archibald had never heard before when fending off two more bandit raids. Johns and Josh merchant groups' guards suffered them without asking for Wolf’s aid.
“Boss, how long are we staying here?” Derek, one of the guards walking on foot, asked Red when they passed a brothel.
Seeing a large number of prospective customers, the ladies working in the establishment also walked out. The women were waving, giggling and batting their eyelashes.
“We’ll be staying for three days. Once we settle down at the Dancing Pony you’re free to do whatever you want for two days, the last day you have to sober up though.” Red loudly answered the question, eliciting a cheer from everyone ranging from the wagon drivers to the mounted guards.
The only one quiet was Mark. Just as Red had guessed, the young adventurer had seen enough bloodshed, and planned on changing his profession.
Meanwhile, Wolf was also looking at the scantily dressed prostitutes. It was midsummer and even the usually cold Northshield was warm enough for men to walk around shirtless.
Seeing a couple of bolder women do the same, and proudly put their assets on display elicited a reaction from the boy.
“Um… Dad… Those women are doing that same winking as those at the Honest Man’s Place…” Wolf wanted to say something about the fake smiles and tired looks, but faltered for words while focusing on breasts.
Archibald didn’t say anything for a moment. Wolf would be turning nine in a couple of weeks. That was still some three years away from being of age. Explaining sex, prostitutes and other related items was not something he wanted to do now. The big man was a notorious procrastinator when it came to things he didn’t want to do.
Instead Archibald chose to use a different approach.
“You sure like them big son.” Archibald said nonchalantly. Talking about women always caused Wolf to falter. “Which one do you like better? The taller one with the transparent negligee, or the shorter one that’s not wearing a top?”
As expected, Wolf blushed and turned away. Archibald had noticed that Wolf would ogle women with ample breasts even back at Iceowl. The big man thought that he was imagining it, but the way the boy stared at the clerk at the Adventurers’ Guild confirmed it.
Archibald thought that Wolf was too young to be acting like that, but then again that was coming from a man that never really developed a strong passion towards the fairer sex. Even with Sky, an unparalleled beauty, any intimate contact stopped as soon as it was confirmed that the woman was pregnant.
Wolf didn’t answer his father’s question. He had a memory of comfortably sleeping on a nude woman’s ample bosom that kept creeping back whenever he saw women that had similar figures. However, he never brought this up, for some reason thinking his father was the wrong kind of person to talk to about this subject.
Instead Wolf closed his eyes, and went back to smoothing out the sixth column. Hopefully Archibald would wake him up when they reach the inn.
***
“Are you sure you don’t want to continue traveling with us?” Red asked, but he was kind of half-hearted about it.
He already knew that this youth was a lost cause. Still, he felt obliged to go through with this. The kid was young, honest and hardworking. He was no knight, but he knew how to use a sword well enough to cut the person on the other end. With time and training, he could become a competent warrior. Gods know that, because of the times, Red had recruited worse characters than Mark.
“You’ve been of great help, and the gang really likes you. Johns and Josh could use people like you,” Red said as he finished his short speech.
As soon as the group had settled down in the Dancing Pony the young adventurer approached Red, and told him that he was quitting.
“Thank you for your kindness, mister Red, but I don’t think I can do this. I think I’ll try my luck as a guard in some shop, or something.” The sight of so much carnage had shaken the young man to the core. He decided that, unless forced, he didn’t want to live his life like that…
Red understood everything immediately. This young man wasn’t from a family desperate for money. He seemed to be desperate for adventure, but all he got was killing people week after week.
“How about you follow us to Bluelake, the next town over? We’ve got a store there, and I can put in a good word for you.”
“Thank you, I think I’ll be staying here for a while.” The youth looked at Red with an odd expression, which Red couldn’t quite read.
Fear? Disgust? Pity? Red wondered, but didn’t mind it. Living a life of bloodshed on the road wasn’t for everyone. Even the life of a caravan master, who was a master of the merchant trade, wasn't suitable for all merchants. People would only take it up after they had settled the matters of family and had offspring that could take over in case anything happened to them.
“If that’s what you want…” Red started, but then acted like he’d changed his mind. “You know what, let me write you a letter of recommendation at least. It won’t take long, and having one won’t hurt.”
Seeing that Red was adamant on the subject Mark didn’t object. A couple of minutes later the youth left holding a small pouch of coins and a white envelope with a Johns and Josh seal.
Archibald’s lessons:
Orcs and goblins live considerably shorter than other manlings. Orcs usually die of old age before hitting fifty, while goblins rarely make it past forty. Then again, they are fully grown at the age of seven. As I’ve already said before, nature is fair.
Author's note:
Apparently, my chapter titles were out of whack on this site. If you notice anything similar, please leave a comment for me to fix it.
