Callie's Heroes

PART I: THE SPY IN THE FOREST

An hour later, Callie and the rest of Ogre House walked out the door of their cozy home. By now, the sun had dipped below the trees, the daylight turning to twilight and the sky showing the deep reds of the fading day. For some reason, Callie was pumped up; hyper even. She wasn’t sure if it was from the food, or the lingering wine buzz, as both she and Lena had cajoled a fresh glass from the Goblins to continue nursing as her group was leaving the mess tent to return home. Maybe it was an excitement for what Vanis had assured would be a truly exciting party.

Ever since she had moved home after college, Callie’s days of going out had seemed to fade to a distant memory. Her childhood friends were gone. Her college friends had gone on to lives of their own. She didn’t really know people in her age group any more. And dating? That was a pointless pursuit! Pickings were slim enough out there for her without adding a layer or three of disappointment on top of it all. So she had books. And Netflix. And … more books.

Fuck, she was boring!

Callie suddenly realized a part of her could really use this. Not so much as distraction, but as release. Not just from the bad events of the last two days, but also from her introverted shell that, like Vanis mentioned earlier, had been cracking ever since she arrived here, with a part of her now wanting to break free like she used to do in college. She was only bummed there wasn’t any way for her to dress for the event. She had always enjoyed the pre-clubbing ritual of finding that perfect tight outfit, putting on a little makeup … or not, and just that teeny spritz of a scent. The lights. The sounds. The beat. The best she could do was to unbutton a couple buttons in an attempt to show a little tiny cleavage, and use some of her ribbon cloth as a choker to add a little color and flair, with mixed results. Lena said it looked a little odd, but Pixyl said she looked ‘really pretty’, so Callie was going with Pixyl’s opinion. Okay, it was definitely the wine.

A few people were milling around in the garden, the trees having tiny magic globes of light attached to them for people to see. Magic. Spells. Was this truly her new reality?

As they all approached the mess tent, Callie realized there was something missing. There was none of the ever-present ‘untz untz untz’ beat of a club. No deep base line thumping out. The only thing resembling music was the faint sound of a guitar, or lute or something else boring as hell. Callie intellectually knew she shouldn’t be surprised. This was a medieval world after all, and she should be expecting medieval music. But the words ‘party’ and ‘dancing’ were just so ingrained in her mind, she had instinctively gone into this with completely the wrong presumptions, and it was a bit of a letdown as a result.

“What’s wrong?” Lena asked.

Callie frowned. “Nothing. Just not what I was expecting for some reason.”

“Why? Seems like it will be a delightful party,” Vanis said. “It sounds like they even have music.”

“If you say so.”

Arriving at the pavilion, they found the inside of the mess tent had been completely cleared, the long tables and benches gone. Towards the front was a bar with a trio of Goblins tending. Next to the bar was a table with various foods that were hard to distinguish at this distance. Several small, chest-high tables, well, chest-high for normals, dotted the floor, with an open space presumably for dancing, or whatever it was you could do to this … so-called music. Opposite the bar, on a small raised platform was an Elf lightly playing a lute similar to the one Vanis had received, but there were several other unfilled chairs around him, promising additional players eventually.

The tent was dimly lit with dozens, maybe even over a hundred, glowing balls of light of various colors attached to the ceiling or high on the walls. It reminded Callie of a few low-key jazz and blues lounges her dad and his band had played when she was younger. If they weren’t rowdy places, she'd get to tag along and watch from the sides, sipping Shirley Temples and pretending to be the band’s manager. When she finally got a little older, occasionally she’d snag a dance with a waitress or even help serve in exchange for tips, which was pretty good money for someone that couldn’t even drive yet.

“This looks … fun,” Callie mumbled sarcastically as they all entered.

As a group, they weaved their way through twenty or thirty people gathered in groups until they found an unused table and claimed it. Someone helpfully pointed out there were booster steps off to the side one could use to get height, so both Callie and Pixyl grabbed one and now everyone was at least able to see over the tabletop. Tazrok ended up sitting on the floor again lest he have to constantly bend over.

“What would everyone care for?” Vanis asked, gesturing towards the bar. “I’ll fetch for everyone.”

Callie and Pixyl both asked for wine, while Xin and Tazrok wanted mead. Lena asked for “something hard to get things started”, and Vanis promised he’d bring the perfect drinks. He invited Tazrok along, worried an ogre-sized mug might be too much to handle, and the huge Druid unfolded himself to assist.

As they all waited, various friends drifted by. Jesca came through, babbling at high speed about everything and nothing at the same time, as did two of Lena’s fellow Bladedancers, the white Tigerkin twins. A lot of people also made side-eye at Pixyl as they walked by repeatedly, probably trying to get a better read on the little Pixie who had been honored earlier that evening. Callie could tell it was making her friend nervous, but she could also tell Pixyl was trying to stay strong because she kept her wings unfolded and largely ignored the gawkers.

Vanis and Tazrok finally returned. Tazrok had the handles of two huge, ogre-sized mugs in one hand, and in the other, the handles of two normal-sized mugs pinched between his thumb and forefinger. Vanis had a tray with six wine goblets, as well as three bottles. As he set them down, Callie could see six shot-glass-sized metal cups on the tray as well.

“Ooo! Shots!” Callie said, her eyes opening wide. “That’s always a good way to start a party off! At least then we won’t care if the music is lame.”

“Then drink with me, Callie,” Lena said. She removed the stopper on one of the bottles and poured an amber-colored liquid into all of the tiny cups. Callie noticed that with Lena being still a little intoxicated from the wine at dinner, the obsessive need to mother her had lessened dramatically. It was nice to have Lena treating her as a friend, and not acting like a parent.

“To Callie, the naked Ranger!” Lena said loudly, picking up a shot and spilling a bit.

Callie quickly amended to herself that It was mostly nice Lena was treating her as a friend.

Everyone, including Callie, reached for one their own shot, although Vanis helped Tazrok by handing one to him lest his huge hands knock something over.

Before Callie could raise her own cup in a return salute and drink, a somewhat slurring male voice somewhere behind her echoed out, “To the naked Ranger!” quickly followed by a few other deep voices all echoing the same. Callie turned to see at least six heavily muscled males, one of them Wolf-descended and wearing the goofy pink baby bonnet, all holding their own cups high. Even the pink-hatted Rhinokin was in on the toast, and everyone was looking right at her. These all had to be part of the Warrior Row crowd the day before.

“Fuck me,” Callie mumbled to herself. She shook her head, glared hard at Lena, who was grinning stupidly. Needing to do something, Callie held up her own cup, loudly proclaiming to the crowd of fighters, “To hell with it! The naked Ranger!”

A cheer roared out from what seemed like almost everyone in the area, as well as her friends at the table, as everyone tossed back their drinks. As the liquid hit her tongue, Callie was momentarily pulled through time and space and back to her Chicago of a few years ago, sipping whiskey with her dad at a blues club the few times when she had come home from college. She wasn’t a connoisseur, but this was a dead ringer for a premium Jack Daniels, or something real close to it, perhaps with a light flavor of honey hinted in the background.

Poor Pixyl let out a long cough as her own Fantasy Jack went down and bit into her. But she smiled, shaking her head to clear it, before adding “It’s really good.” Xin had difficulty too, but even worse, and she fought several moments of spluttered coughing trying to catch her breath.

As for Callie, she just stared at Lena. “You’re a bitch, you know that right?”

Lena placed her hand innocently on her chest. “Who? Me?”

Before Callie could work on insulting Lena some more, someone else sounding a little more drunk shouted out, “Another toast! To the Blue Haired Pixie who’s name I can’t remember or pronounce, and His Royal Highness whatever his name was, the heroes of the training field!”

Pixyl almost dropped the bottle she was pouring into her wine goblet, using two of her small hands to hold it steady. Callie distinctly heard a muttered f-bomb identical to her own. Lena held up a finger to the crowd, quickly pouring liquid into each of the shots and spilling quite a bit of it. Everyone picked up a shot, Vanis again handing one to Tazrok. Vanis raised his shot to the room, and Pixyl turned to face everyone, raising her own, slowly shaking her head in disbelief.

By now, the number of recruits in the tent had grown, and several trainers had joined. There was a mad scramble for everyone to get a drink of some kind in their hands.

Seeing most hands raised, Lena shouted out, animatedly pointing at both Pixyl and Vanis with her free hand, “To these two!”

Another cheer roared up as everyone toasted to their fellow recruits. This time Pixyl didn’t have coughing problems, but poor Xin almost collapsed in another hacking fit trying to toss back her shot. She finally recovered enough to gesture at the bottle and hoarsely cried out “No more!”

And so it went. Toasts were called out for this person or that, or to the Free Folk, or to defeating the Demons or even to someone’s grandmother. Callie quickly had to switch to sipping the wine after her third shot, because she could feel the creeping warmth of high-proof intoxication rushing towards her, and Xin’s warning about having to carry home her small body rattled in her brain. Xin, on the other hand, took the full blow from even two shots, and started to wobble a bit before too long. Vanis quickly found some water, and forced the Lizardkin to switch to it until she felt a little bit better.

By now, additional musicians had joined the lone lute player, and the pace of music had at least picked up a bit. It all had a vaguely Celtic vibe to it, with someone adding a soft beat by slapping hands to a small drum, and a few people had started dancing now that alcohol had loosened everyone up. Even Lena got in on the action as one of her Bladedancer classmates, the Catkin Dregorio, bowed deeply and asked her for a dance, oozing sly but gentlemanly charm. With a waggle of her eyebrows to Callie and Pixyl, Lena downed another shot, shouted “Woo!” and offered her hand, Dregorio taking it suavely in his own paw. It still wasn’t Callie’s type of music, but at least it was faster, although it still needed an actual beat, not this weak tappity-tappity stuff.

It was dark now, or close enough to make no difference. While the sun was gone, there was just the smallest hint of a glow on the far horizon. Callie caught movement she recognized in the bushes outside. She tried to switch her Darkvision on, but there was too much light still in the tent, and she had to quickly switch it off again. But, she was still able to make out someone lurking in the trees outside; someone vaguely familiar. “Hey, Pixyl. Join me for a little air?”

Pixyl was about to drink some of her wine and stopped. “Why?”

“Because!” Callie whispered with a snap. “Vanis, we’ll be back in a little bit,” she added.

“Of course,” the Elf replied with a slight nod.

Callie took Pixyl’s hand and dragged her away and out of the tent. “Put your Darkvision on. There’s someone in the bushes over here,” she hissed.

“Why do you c-c-care?”

“Because of who it is, and because I am a little buzzed and want someone with me just in case.”

“Of what?”

Still holding Pixyl’s hand, Callie led the two as they ducked out of any light and stepped quietly through the underbrush. With their Darkvision now active, seeing was no problem, and quietly they approached a woman sitting on the stump of a tree. She seemed to be swaying slightly to the music, her eyes closed as her legs dangled and wiggled to the music, lost in her own little world. Her long hair had been braided into a single long ponytail that swung to her lower back, tied at the end with a vine. Flowers and leaves had been woven into the braid and it moved in time with the music like the pendulum of a metronome.

“Hi,” Callie said, making the woman jump, slipping off the stump and landing on her feet. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m not interfering! I promise!” Juniper said, spinning to face Callie and Pixyl. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you might be Xera.”

“What do you mean ‘not interfering’?” Callie asked.

“Um. That’s my agreement. I can watch, but I can’t interfere.”

Callie and Pixyl stood there with confused expressions.

“My agreement with Xera. You can all use this space for your little war camp, but I can come and go as long as I don’t interfere, and the camp will come to my aid if there’s a need. Oh, and you will replant all the trees when you leave. I swear, I was just watching.”

Juniper cocked her head slightly, finally realizing who she was talking to. It was the pink-haired Gnome from the day before, the one she had accidentally beguiled. Next to the Gnome, she was leading a blue-haired Pixie by the hand who had narrowed her eyes towards her suspiciously. “Oh, it’s you, Little One.”

Callie cocked her own head at the Dryad. Juniper appeared nervous, but was at least dressed this time, wearing a lovely woven dress of reeds adorned with tiny flowers. She had a large flower behind one ear as well. She was absolutely the perfect image of lovely. The dress was so form-fitting to her curves. Such perfection…

Pixyl smacked Callie’s arm, hard, breaking her concentration. “So why were you watching us all? I saw you.” Callie said, shaking her head, her brain refocusing.

“I just … like to watch everyone. Every term I get to watch all of you grow so quickly. It’s quite fun.” The Dryad then added sadly, “It’s taken me decades to learn what I have of my own few skills, and you all do it all so fast.”

“So why not join in the festivities? Or ask for help learning more?”

Juniper looked down and away. “That’s not in our agreement. So I just watch,” she said sullenly.

“Are you that bored?,” Pixyl asked.

“What? Me? No! I have … all my forest friends,” Juniper sputtered in return waving a hand vaguely to the world around them. “It’s just nice to see … people. And I do learn things from time to time by watching.”

“What class are you?” Callie asked.

Juniper shrugged, and then sounded a little sad. “I don’t know, I’ve never found out. I can see into others, but unfortunately not myself. But it doesn’t matter, I only know of plants and trees, I don’t have any real powers like you are all being taught. I can only pass through the roots and bring life and fertility to the land by raising plants, oh, and talk to some of the animals. I am not a combatant like all of you.”

Callie was shocked for a moment, realizing this was sounding familiar. “Wait! Plant magic? Are you a Sylvan?”

“A Sylvan? I ... don’t know what that is.”

“I literally had a conversation with the Sylvan trainer, Eirlys, earlier this evening,” Callie said. “She’s a plant Wizard, a Floramancer I think she called it, which sounds a little like you. You know what a battle-trained Sylvan can do, right? Raise flowers that can devour people? Armies of trees on the battlefield? Acid spitting walls of thorns?”

Juniper thought for a moment, “I do recall seeing recruits in the past using such magic with plants, but I have no skills like that. That’s done by this Sylvan class?”

“That’s what Eirlys talked about,” Callie said, shrugging.

“You think I could do such things?”

“Well, let’s go find out,” Callie said, gesturing slightly-drunkely towards the tent. “There has to be a Scryer around somewhere, and maybe Eirlys is here, too.”

“No no! I can’t interfere. I made that promise,” Juniper said, stepping back.

“It’s a party. You aren’t interfering.”

“Callie!” Pixyl hissed. “This is a b-b-bad idea. What if she charms everyone.”

“Good point. Juniper, promise to keep the sex magic turned off, or you’ll be swarmed by every horny person here.”

“But …” Juniper said.

“Besides, it was my idea, so just blame me if you get in trouble.” Callie pointed out, refusing to take no for an answer. “Come on.”