A Mug's Game [By Invite Only]

[Darian]

Last cycle of Aperitus, Summer of Era XIV Post Fractum

Their ship came into the city as the sun rose behind their backs. The Alchemist had spent the majority of the voyage secluded in his cabin, pouring over the maps of Paxia he had purchased in Jaedaxia. Of course, they were dated now, relatively useless except to show where things used to be. Phat would be staying here, unloading his goods and loading up what goods Paxia had to offer before returning to Jaedaxia, so the ship would be their base of operations.

He had for the most part kept out of the way of his temporary employee, they were not friends. Theirs was a relationship of employer and employee and the Alchemist felt no particular need to befriend the giant, he had made him an ally already. That would be enough. His allegiance had been bought.

Odds were he was already too late for any simple looting. Anything lying about on the surface would already have been taken by entrepreneurial citizens. Which was why he had brought the giant, as well as a decent supply of shovels, picks and similar. Still, he would need to see for himself what needed doing.

The black hat shielded his eyes from the morning sun, as he strode down and onto the docks proper. It was time to get started, time to find out what was what. He had marked down a couple of places of interest on his map. Foremost among which was the aptly named Academy of Magic. After briefly checking in with the port authorities, he with Mug in tow were headed west, towards the Academy of Magic.

"Bring the crate," he told Mug, it was a large crate. He would rather not carry it himself and if need be it would be faster than returning for it.

[Mug]

Mug hadn’t spent very much time with his new employer once they were on the boat. Mug slept down below a lot of the time but when he was awake he wasn’t entirely useless either. He helped out where he could, usually lifting heavy things that took more than one person to lift on the deck. He wasn’t exactly a seaman either, the motion was starting to get to him after the first few brightening but he managed to keep his food down. He did get to know some of the crew however, they seemed nice, they worked hard, and partied hard. Mug didn’t drink on the voyage, if he fell overboard, nobody would be getting him out of the water alive…that and they hadn’t packed enough.

It turned out that the giant didn’t know very much about the events in Paxia as when he seen the shape some of it was in he was in awe. His mouth hung open slightly before he shook it off after hearing his employers voice. “Yessir” Mug said as he lifted the crate and tucked it under one arm following the man who had hired him. Mug preferred talking but he was also accustom to silence. Though when it was silent he started whistling the tune to a song that Darian probably had never heard of. Then slowly but surely came words.

“We goin’ ta get whut ‘rs,
Not ta hit da famous bars.
A ‘untin’ we go,
Must ‘urry up. We can’t be slow,
‘untin, ‘untin ‘untin!"

Came the strange marching song from the giant who himself was marching slowly beside his new companion. “Oi notice juu be da silent one sir. ‘aint see ya much on deck on de boat. Dun’ s’pose juu be tellin’ me much ‘boutcha?” he asked not looking down. “Oi muh-self be a traveler. Come from da tribe mugmug. Whats ‘bout juu sir? You from eh tribe o’ wha’chu call em? Tawn er cities?” It seemed as though Mug knew he wouldn’t be getting any information and therefore pried for some without awaiting a response.

[Striker]

With the onset of summer, reconstruction had overtaken Paxia in full bloom. Dwarven engineers and human architects hustled about the city, leading construction crews and parties from one plot of land to the next. The sudden surge of income from the Imperial Government had fostered the dramatic increase in city activity, and there was not a single acre in all of Paxia that was untouched by the eager rebuilders. The very face of Paxia was about to be retouched, painted in the image that the city’s visionaries, its leaders, had imagined. Gena’ra, the Senior Aedile of Paxia and a katta rumored to be the next prospective thane, had organized the coalition to rebuild the city, and along with a handful of insightful advisors, had ordered the entire realm to be redrafted immediately.

By the time that Darian and Mug arrived at the site of the former Academy of Magic, they would be introduced to a flattened base of land devoid of any rubble. The walls of the majestic institute were not present, long removed by the city’s rebuilders and citizens alike. When Paxia had fallen, the Academy of Magic had been one of the first facilities ravaged for the orcs had immediately isolated it as a potential threat to their cause, and two of the faculty had been murdered while defending the city itself. Rumors had abounded that only one of the three original masters had survived the entropy of that prolonged event, but for the most part she was said to be working fervently with the construction parties, helping to lift massive blocks of stone via her powers and rearranging materials accordingly.

Set in front of the groundwork of the previous academy was a small table layered with multiple diagrams and unrolled parchments. A dwarf with a fiery beard stood atop a small stool, hovering over the paperwork and grumbling to himself as one of his hands fidgeted with an ink pen. His other hand twisted several strands of his crimson facial hair around a finger, tugging back and forth before unwinding to maneuver another of the papers. Seconds later another dwarf appeared at the table, and then another, and then another, until the desk was completely encircled by the dwarven builders.

All around Darian and Mug, personnel of all sorts and sizes carried wooden beams towards the site of the academy, setting them down to the side of the plot of land before returning to a supply wagon south of the two newcomers’ positions. The sight of the disguised dracon and the giant did not disrupt them from their activities. Gorgon and his giants, after all, had made frequent visits to this portion of Paxia over the past few brightenings, bringing with them the necessary supplies and materials so that the dwarves could continue their work.

For whatever reason that Darian had sought out the Academy of Magic, he would not discover its remnants here.

[Darian]

Annoying. Not, however, entirely unexpected. He had expected some rebuilding effort, not quite this extensive though. Ah well, there was more than one way to skin a cat. "Do not speak unless spoken to," the Alchemist told Mug, "I will take care of the talking."

He walked over to the dwarves who seemed busy with something or other at the table, the dwarf with the fiery beard seemed to be the one in charge so Adrian addressed him first. "Are you in charge here?" he asked the dwarf, and if not he would simply have to search out the person in charge of these excavations.

His next comment would be pretty much the same no matter who was in charge though, "My name is Adrian de Aquinas, I am here on behalf of the Socrates de Ambergois Universitie of Jaedaxia, the Arcane Bureau has tasked us with handling any potential hazardous arcanic waste. I will require access to any untouched basements, as well as the rubble which has been shifted from this place. Which I would suggest putting under watch, another outbreak of the Feeble Pox may be the least of your worries if there is an accident."

Enough truth in that to spark some concern certainly. He had seen in Jaedaxia what unchecked arcana could do when things went badly. Orod only knew what the mages of Paxia had left behind.

[Mug]

Mug looked around and scratched his head. Hadn’t they come here to search the ruins of a city that was lost to the orcs? Now they were here and they were seeling smaller weaker beings, like dwarves. Mug was slow on catching up with what was happening in other places other than where he was. The last he had heard of Paxia they were just being attacked. It would have been a good show if he had of been there but he figured by the time he had arrived that the fighting would be done and then he would have nothing to do.

He was about to say something when he was told that he shouldn’t. He listened to his boss and nodded following him with a stone sober look on his face. When Adrian started talking Mug lifted his head a little and crossed his arms. It would be an unsettling stance no doubt but he wanted to look like he knew what was happening. He turned his head from side as if examining the area. Mug may have been short witted but he knew how to act as if he were doing something.

He nodded as his boss spoke but didn’t say a word as he was instructed to.

[Striker]

Irritation weighed upon the dwarf’s fiery brow as he turned to the interrupter and his companion. Smirking disdainfully at the giant and similarly to the disguised dracon for associating with the former, the Zerdargian engineer sighed and waved away his fellow builders with a burly hand. “Yea, I’m in charge.” he emphatically said, thrusting a dirty thumb into his own chest.

Stepping away from the table and hiking up his trousers as they were being weighed down by a utility belt, the dwarf crossed his muscular arms across his broad chest. “Never heard of ya.” He said, and he turned partially as if to return to the others. The Zerdargians were keeping a busy schedule, working daily around the clock and oftentimes into the wee hours of the morning. Ever since the Imperial Government had allotted a considerable portion of their handsome coffers into Paxia’s reconstruction, there was not a spot in the entire city that was untouched by some worker or another.

At the mentioning of the Feeble Pox, though, the dwarven builder turned back to Adrian, his bushy eyebrows furrowing in evident alarm. “Well why didn’ ya just say so, mate!” the dwarf grumbled, obviously lost to the reality that the dracon had, in fact, explained himself quite lucidly. Glancing to the newly laid foundation that had become the base of Paxia’s former Academy of Magic, the dwarf chewed on one of his dirty fingernails in a pensive manner.

“Can’t say there’s a basement any longer.” He admitted, wincing slightly as a small explosion erupted from a plot of land nearby. The dwarf smirked, “But if ya head south you’ll find a big guy, Gorgon’s his name. Ya can’t miss the brute…” At this the dwarf winced again, glancing up to Mug as if expecting the massive humanoid to retaliate for the quasi-derogatory term. The dwarf shrugged. “He’s in charge a’ cleanup and stuff. He’d probably know more about what yer lookin’ for.”