WoV, Book 1, Chapter 7: Getting a flaming stick and poking a wasp's nest...

Evidently, Kofle did not get a say in this. Or she waived it by following the two mages as they left the city. At the gate, a few of the guards clearly noticed Muur and the miqo’te, and made to intercept them– right up until they noticed the diminutive mage chattering at their sides.

The moment they realized just who was accompanying them, the Brass Blades gave a picture perfect salute… if not for the slight shiver of fear that visibly went down their spines. Cocobezi seemed used to being treated as such, because he walked onwards, not giving a single thought to the guards as he crossed into the slums.

“Your reputation precedes you, I see.” Muur hummed with a crooked grin, tail cracking like a whip to punctuate her amusement.

“Hmm?” The thaumaturge looked at her, with a quirked eyebrow, “I suppose that it does, yes. But whatever made you think as much?”

“The way the guards flinched when you walked past?” Kofle offered, giving the small mage a half hearted glare, “It got us through the gates without questions, so I can't complain.”

“Ahhhhh, that! Well, that just means they know their place!” He said as if it was as normal as breathing air, before letting out a little sadistic chuckle, “And that I can do their job far better than they ever could!”

“Haha, can’t wait to get there.” Muur matched her teacher without missing a beat, shaking her head wistfully, “Speaking of jobs, what wildlife are we tormenting today?”

“That is something that we will have to discover!” Leading the two girls into the slum’s dirty alleyways, Muur saw that people did not react the same to her guildmaster. There was fear and respect, just as before, but it was overshadowed by the clear reverence and the near imperceptible spark of hope that appeared in the eyes of many that saw him.

She could also see others, sometimes better dressed, sometimes not, slink away from their little group whenever they appeared, “Left side, purple robes– don’t turn your head,” Kofle whispered as they passed by a crumbling mound of clay that might have been an improvised home at one point.

“Cult or gang?” Muur asked without missing a single beat, just as quietly and not turning her head. Her aether roused for a moment as her hindbrain sang ‘threat threat threat’, but she smothered it into a quiet simmer. If they needed sudden and overwhelming firepower, the Guildmaster was right there.  

“Gang, watch out for scorpions too.” The cat subvocalized as Cocobezi started to get excited all over again.

“Now, this excursion shall be perfect for imparting wisdom to both of you! For you see, as adventurers, and to a lesser extent priests, you shall often handle the troubles of others! Often by slaying, or transporting something, or finding someone’s lost pet– that last one is far more common that one might expect,” Hearing Kofle make a groan of agreement, he chuckled, “In these lines of work, it shall serve you well to be enthusiastic in regards to all these tasks. To take the bull by the horns as it were! Alas, there is such a thing as too much enthusiasm, and people are unlikely to enjoy paying for services they did not need.”

“So long as the pay or cause is worth my time.” Muur replied with an easy shrug. She wasn’t about to be treated like a retail worker unless she really had to.

“I meant the killing beasts that they did not ask the death of.” Cocobezi shushed her.

“Tell me about it,” The swordswoman grumbled as she placed a hand on the hilt of her blade, “I’ve been on both ends of it. Mercenaries used to do cullings near my oasis when the smoke bombs went out of control because of a spike in fire aether. The pay rate was 100 a head, plus 40 per bomb ash they could find. You know, on account of the explosion. But the payment was capped at 200 beasts, since we just didn’t have the money for it. A lot of sellswords got cute and killed in excess of that. Caused more than a few fist-fights… Then I did it myself, it was… I don’t remember, wolves? I think? In Gridania.”

“Ah,” The small guildmaster winced, “Yes, I can imagine where the problem arose from.”

“Mhm, some good old ‘We’re not paying you for the four wolves you killed that were over the contract.’ combined with their fear of the elementals and general xenophobia,” The cat said with a long-suffering sigh, “Even tried to penalize us for killing more than we were paid to. Thankfully, the adventurer’s guild stepped in and had that village pay their due in full. Minus the four wolves, of course.”

“So never ever do more than what is listed on the contract unless you trust the employer.” Muur surmised with a quiet grunt. “And also avoid Gridania like the plague.”

“More or less, or don’t expect them to pay you for it if you bring it up.” Kofle concluded, before snorting, “And yes. Avoid Gridania whenever you can… Well, okay. They aren’t that bad when you’re in the city state, but the outlying villages? Oh boy.”

“Especially in these times,” The guildmaster commented, “Do not mistake Ul'dah's situation as unique. The slums that we are walking through are the largest in the realm, for what is Ul’dah if not the Rose of the Desert, where sand turns to gold? But they are hardly the only place where hopefuls come to attempt to earn a living. Each city state can lament the presence of such slums near their walls. A tragedy in all aspects, but it has had one peculiar upside in Gridania.”

“Forced people to reexamine their bigotry?” The cat woman drawled out.

“Indeed! Unfortunately, the few communities that exist in the deeper parts of the Black Shroud, away from the trade routes, have become even more insular than ever. Not to the point of renouncing Gridanian rule,” He quickly added with a small cough, “But I’ve heard from a friend’s missive that they’ve had to send Padjals to reassert said rule.”

“That bad, huh.” Muur muttered, grimacing at both the refugee crisis and whatever the fuck was going on with the Girdanian hicks.

“It has been improving in recent months, or so I heard. A slow process, but any healing would take time, after five years of pain… in any case, we are here!” Turning one last corner, the group came face to face with a slightly better kept building. There wasn’t much to it from the looks of it, but the people that were outside? A number of large, scarred rough and tumble men and women immediately focused on Cocobezi and his small entourage.

Not one of these didn’t have some sort of weapon, quite a large number seemed to have weird sword-rifle hybrids that they were sharpening menacingly. A few also had ruined helmets clipped on a part of their body. Everything was very pointedly standard issue fare where it hadn’t broken and been replaced with something else.

Ah, shit. Ex-soldiers. Didn’t matter if they had been dishonorably discharged or deserted, that sort of look rarely promised anything good. Highest rate of banditry, bar none. Didn’t help that her implanted memories cheerfully whispered those helmets and weapons were Garlean.

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen,” Cocobezi, as fearless as ever strutted up to an impressive lion-man specimen, “is Nanna here?”

“‘Fternoon sah. Aye, she in,” The wall of furred muscle said with a nod, “Oy! Someone call Nanna ‘ere! Them priestly ‘re here!”

…And just like that, Muur was no longer concerned.

The door to the building flew open, letting out a woman that was more burn scars than skin. She was short an arm, an eye and a foot. It did not make the broken spear she used as a crutch feel any less dangerous, “Pipe down ya brat, I’m here. I’m here,” Her gaze crossed Muur’s and her two companions, earning the three of them a derisive snort, “Babysitting duty, Cocobuki?”

“Cocobezi.” “Aye, that’s what I said, Cocobani,” She said with a cackle, before waving them into the building with her weapon “Anyhow, come on inside.”

__________________________________________________________________________

The woman, or Nanny, as she insisted to be called, turned out to be the slum lord of these parts. Oh, it was never said out loud, but it was rather clear with how she and Muur’s teacher danced around certain words.

It was certainly an interesting thing to be made to witness, and which most new initiates probably never were brought near besides. Most of it was about putting a price on the head of the beasts that needed culling while stretching her funds as much as she could, not come up with a quota, “If we could pay for it, we’d have the lot of them wiped out,” Nanny had explained when Kofle had asked about setting up a more standardized payout.

The discussion only lasted a few minutes, but Muur could tell that the scarred woman was… kind? Not soft by any measure, but she seemed keen to live up to her nickname at least. Not that it stopped her bartering skills from being on par with some of the best in the steppes, when the mage had deigned to consult her implanted memories.

When the negotiation was finished, she handed a sheet over to Cocobezi. This time with much more sadness and solemnity, “Thirty,” she said, “fight between the Scorpions and the eastern butchers took ‘em. Bastards nearly caused a fire to catch.”

The thaumaturge took the list and gave her a bow before motioning the two adventurers to leave with him. Back into the streets, he brought a hand to his ear and began to speak quietly to himself, “So, twelve marmots, and twenty wasps. Know anything about them?” Kofle asked Muur as he went about his business.

“Nope!” The lizard replied cheerfully after a quick prod at her implanted memories. That talisman tag was a saint’s hand, keeping the damn stuff quiet whenever she wasn’t trying to pry out more info. “Probably just some giant bugs and oversized rodents, those seem to crop up everywhere.”

“Yeah, the wasps are about as big as a grown man’s head. They grow as big as a lalafell, but they tend to be killed before that. The stinger’s the dangerous part, if you get stabbed they’ll make you regret living, and make whatever got stung swell to the size of a goodly coin purse. But that’s about it,” She seemed ready to say something else, then thought better of it, “Marmots are rodents that are about the same size. All lean and stringy meat, surprisingly fierce little shits, but mostly harmless unless they climb on you. They’re a pain to dislodge when they do. Granted, that’s if you’re a full grown man in good shape. Against the weak, the young, the old or the infirm? Either of them would be able to score a kill, if not directly whatever diseases they carry would do the deed.”

“Lovely.” Muur drawled, twirling her staff with one hand before chucking it into the air and catching it with her tail without missing a beat, “Well, ice and lightning and see what the locals can salvage for food. At least where the Marmots are concerned.”

The wasps she got to blow up.

Not too long after, the three of them left the suffocating embrace of the slums, the buildings steadily getting more and more ramshackle the further from the city they went until they were walking past a town of raggedy looking tents, “Now then. Apprentice, Apprentice’s friend?” Cocobezi turned to them just as they stood on the threshold of the slums, “Unless there is a grave risk to your health, I will not involve myself in this exercise in any way. Furthermore, I would ask that you use your weakest spells, young Muur.” 

“‘But why!?’,” He suddenly cried out, falling to his knees and weeping crocodile tears, “‘I want to set the beasts on fire!’ I hear you cry!” Jumping back up to his feet, he jabbed a finger towards the lizard-wizard, “Simple, the creatures you’ve been tasked to fell are… Well, they’re the lowest of the lows. A single bolt of flames would be enough to char them to the bone, which would have been perfectly fine in any other situation. But, today you’ve been afforded an opportunity!”

“To learn how to use a meatshield safely so she doesn’t have to deal with things trying to eat her face?” Kofle asked with a deadpan when his finger moved to point at her.

“Exactly! I must say, it is quite refreshing to meet a young gladiator that is not offended by such a notion.” The Guildmaster beamed.

“I have…” Taking a deep breath, Kofle’s eyes gained a haunted, faraway quality to them. Goddamn, but how much trauma was this cat packing? “experience in that domain.”

“Right, well, come my knight in shining bronze. We have a most noble quest to fulfill.” Muur cut in with the quixotic theatrics that seemed part of the Thaumaturge uniform.

“How’d you know I had a bronze plate?” The ‘knight’ asked as she placed her bag on the floor and pulled out some armor.

“You look too broke for steel but I wasn’t going to insult you with copper.” The lizard replied with a toothy grin. She may’ve worried about her teeth being a bit much, but the cat people weren’t too far behind in terms of kissable maws.

“What kind of idiot would buy copper armor?” Kofle asked incredulously, unable to figure out if Muur was messing with her or not, “My tunic’s is probably a better armor than that!”

As she spoke, she finished putting on the top of her protection. A rather bulky ensemble of a bronze chestplate, shoulder pads and tassets layered on top of some red and black fibers, linen maybe? 

“Eh, it can work in a pinch. Hammer it enough and it hardens to be something other than dead weight. Would still recommend leather, though.” The horned woman chuckled with a soft shake of her head. The things you picked up in Youtube Shorts.

“Sounds like it’d be cheaper to buy bronze,” Adjusting her sleeves with a grimace, the cat slung her bag back across her shoulders and grabbed her weapons…, “If only because you’re having a smith waste time with that sort of custom order.” ...without putting any pants on.

“Tin’s a bit of a bitch to find, so sometimes you don’t get to have bronze. Period, dot, end.” Muur replied, before double taking at Kofle’s getup. “...I will trust you not to get a slash to the thighs and bleed out.”

“First, this is you people’s fault,” The swordswoman grumbled as she started to walk away from the slum, “I was gonna buy protection for my legs when you dragged me out here. Second, I have potions in my bag, and I’m not gonna get bled out by some oversized rodent or bee.”

Following that, she took the lead and began to walk away from the road and into the dry, yet surprisingly green, land, “Marmots will be closer to the slums than the wasps since they like to scrounge for food, but at this time of day, they’ll be hiding underground. Wasps will be active though, they don’t really care about heat. If anything they’re more active when the sun’s high, thing is they rarely get close to spoken settlements, so we’ll have to walk some ways before we start seeing them. If you see any large yellow blobs, tell me alright?”

“Aye aye, now let’s make with the murder. Nice day out for it.” Although, granted, that was mostly her new body. The old meatsack would be dying in this desert heat, but a lizard was a lizard, doubly so one used to setting itself on fire. Not perfectly comfortable, mind you, but just a couple degrees above it rather than miserable.

Their little trek took them far enough that some of the tents were starting to turn into indistinct blurs in the heat of the sun’s loathing for the world of man, “See any yet?” Kofle asked, frowning, “With how people talked about the wasps, I thought they’d be pretty close.”

“They are, and are not. They tend to gather around what few water holes there are nearby,” Cocobezi told her, jumping on top, and then off of a rock half his size, “They just so happen to be incredibly territorial. And will not be afraid to pursue an intruder all the way back to the slums.”

“Right… And there’s a pond not far from here. I think it’s this way,” Taking a turn to the right, Kofle began to lightly jog towards a lone tree, “I caught sight of it on the way into the city.” Sure enough, it didn’t take long for Muur to catch sight of a few yellow dots bobbing up and down in the air as they approached.

“Well, there’s the welcoming committee.” The wizard chuckled, pointing her staff in their direction as she started buffering up some fire in the foci.

“Where?” Kofle turned towards the wasps as she spoke, “Oh, I see them. Yeah, that looks to be them. Right, have you ever fought alongside a meatshield, or is it your first time?”

“Not unless you count a Bangaa who could punch fireballs into people.” Muur chuckled, barely even bothering to prod her fabricated memories.

“Right, that’s a no then,” The gladiator replied without missing a beat, “Generally speaking, when in an adventurer party, you’ll want the toughest of your bunch to draw attention to themselves first. If you’ve ever seen a proper battle, that might sound weird to you, since usually you’d want the archers and mages to do the honors. Less risk of hitting your pals that way, but since adventurers rarely form groups of more than eight people at a time? There’s a lot less chance to hit the frontliners, but more importantly, there’s a lot less bodies between you and your target. Smarter animals and foes’ll use that to their advantage, packs will split their attention to go for the mages and bandits will do the same. Better to have your vanguard right in their faces, ready to punish an attempt at breaking through.”

“Fair ‘nuff. Just bunch them up for me, and don’t lose your mind if one makes it through, I can bat ‘em back.” Muur said as she eased down a bit on the aether in her staff. Wouldn’t do to burn Kofle’s eyebrows off.

“Got it. Alright… How do I…” Mumbling to herself, Kofle started to jog towards the wasps, quickly breaking out into a proper run once Muur was close enough to use her spells effectively.

“Well now. You’ve found a most useful companion, apprentice,” Cocobezi piped up, “Confounding, but useful. She seems to have a near perfect understanding of a mage’s ranged capabilities. You didn’t even have to inform her that you were close enough to the beasts. Yet, she holds her blade like a beginner. How strange…”

As she neared the group of four wasps, Kofle swung her shield arm and– absolutely nothing happened, “Oh, come on! I did that perfectly!”

“Most strange indeed.” The guildmaster commented as all four wasps converged on the cat woman.

“What’d you think she fought as before trying to retrain as a gladiator?” Muur asked conversationally, mostly on account of having agreed with the cat not to start slinging fire until fuzzbutt had the bugs’ attention. 

“And wear such shoddy equipment? Unlikely,” Jumping forwards with her shield raised, Kofle slammed into the closest wasp, sending it flying backwards and in the midst of its slower companions, “Well, enough of that. You turn to shine, apprentice!”

She didn’t need to be told twice, tapping her staff on the ground almost lackadaisically. There was no real need for force, not when all she was doing was opening a connection between the stockpile of fire aether and the ground. A snap of her fingers purely for show and it erupted from the dunes, a pillar of fire enveloped three of the wasps in their entirety, charring them to what would have been a wonderful crisp had they been giant crabs. 

As it was, they were just sad piles of smoldering and bubbling chitin.

Didn’t finish the last, but given she had reduced half its wings and limbs to ash, it was also a sad pile on the sand. Just a squirming one that lasted right until Kofle’s rickety wooden shield splattered its head. 

“Nice job!” The cat called out, wiping some insectoid ichor that had splashed across her face as she jogged back, “That makes four, sixteen left.”

“Well, they aren’t going to kill themselves.” Muur hummed with a pleased grin, her inner pyromaniac purring contentedly.