Tavern Brawls S06WK03

Fletcher had seen many field offices and met more than his fair share of field generals.  Some of the offices had been hidden away in tiny nooks and crannies of his locale while some had been blatantly advertised, particularly in the larger cities.  In turn, some of the generals had been bombastic idiots out to prove themselves while others were little more than paper-pushers, just trying to get through the day.  No matter the location of the office or the caliber of those inside, one thing had remained constant throughout Fletch’s time in the service: he had gone alone.  That had changed here as he tried to protect participants in the Brawl.  The last time he had come here, he had been part of a group.  Selena and Cantrip may not be the most subtle of operators, but he appreciated being able to work through ideas with them and have two more sets of eyes and ears.  He was starting to realize how much working in a team was more enjoyable and fulfilling.

The old veteran shook his head to clear it.  None of that mattered at the moment.  Now, he needed to report to Grindstone and he had to do it alone.  Lazily, so as not to attract too much attention, he wandered to the back side of the wood mill.  He needn’t have worried as the local populace found itself taking longer each morning to reach its optimal hustle and bustle.  The Brawl was inducing new habits for everyone as they stayed up late to watch each match.  He flashed his coin at the door steward and slipped inside the well-hidden entry.

Walking down the staircase to Grindstone’s office, a pungent odor reached his nostrils.  Startled, Fletcher held his nose as he picked up his pace.  It smelled like something was on fire, but not any kind of fire he remembered.  He had almost reached the lower level before he realized that there was no smoke in the air.  Coming out onto the floor, he looked around astonished.  No longer the drab office environment he had witnessed during his last two visits, the area was filled with large tables upon which dozens of glass containers sat.  Some had been placed on the tables directly while others were suspended in the air using string or pieces of metal.  Many of those suspended had small fires placed under them.  While some of the containers were empty, most contained various colors of liquids.

A woman in a long white coat walked up to Fletch as he entered.  “You must be Fletcher Periwinkle,” she began, taking his hand to shake it vigorously.  “My name is Mary Jane.  The general has told me all about you.  His assistant is out sick today, so he went to get some tea for all of us instead.  Personally, I think that young man working for him just stayed out too late last night watching the last match between Gillyflower and Brobnar, but who could blame him?!  I mean, no one could have foreseen that delicate young lady whipping out moves learned at the imperial academy.  Took everyone by surprise!  The action was so hot and heavy that I think other people were ready to-”

“I think that’s enough chitchat, Mary Jane.  Take a breath and let the man breathe.”

General Grindstone entered the large space from an anteroom, carrying a tray and 3 cups of steaming tea.  Mary Jane went over to a nearby table and pushed some of the glass out of the way to make room for the tray.  The general grabbed a cup and gestured to his companions to each take a cup as well.  Silence rang through the room for a moment, with only an occasional sip from a teacup interrupting its grip.

The general placed his empty cup on the tray.  “Now then, Fletch, I didn’t ask you here for a report.  I actually have a report for you.  I asked Mary Jane here to help us analyze the glove that your team found after the Draft.”

‘Team,’ thought Fletcher.  Had a nice ring to it.

The general looked pointedly at Mary Jane who took another sip from her tea.  Grindstone cleared his throat with an exaggerated cough. The alchemist looked at the general with concern.  “I have an elixir around her that will help you with that ailment, my good sir.  Give me just a moment to find it.”

Grindstone placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder.  “Never mind the cough.  Tell him about the glove.”

“The glove!  Yes, yes, of course.”  She reached under a small pile of parchment and pulled out the white glove that Selena had ‘found’ during the draft. “I ran some tests on it and found that it matched a substance that comes from a tree in the tropics called a rubber tree.  It’s flexible, but not very durable in high heat.  However, its best feature is its ability to safely harness certain kinds of energy without hurting the wearer.”

Seeing the puzzled look on Fletch’s face, she put the glove on her hand and stepped over to another table which held a collection of various sticks.  She handed one to Fletcher.  “Hit me,” she directed him, sticking her hand out in front of her.  He shrugged and smacked her hand with the stick, striking across the ends of her fingers.  She yelped and jumped around, holding her injured hand with the other, shouting obscenities at the various liquids surrounding her.

After a few moments, she came back to the two bewildered men standing back where she had started.  “I meant,” she said through gritted teeth, “to hit me with the magic IN the wand, not with the wand itself.  What kind of wizard are you, anyway?”

Fletcher turned sideways and pointed at the bow strapped across his back.  “I said bringing him on the case was like magic.  I did NOT say he was a wizard,” stated Grindstone.

Mary Jane sighed angrily.  “That information would have been more helpful to have before he hit me.”

Fletch tried to indicate his apology to the alchemist, but she waved him off.  “Honest mistake, but please don’t do that again,” she pleaded.  “Well, what I was trying to demonstrate is that the rubber tree glove will protect you from some kinds of magical energy.”

Fletch’s eyes widened slightly.  He took the cups off of the serving tray and held the in front of his face like a portrait, peeking around it to look at the other two several times.

“You’re talking about the portals, aren’t you?” Grindstone asked.  “Excellent thinking, Fletch!  Mary Jane, would this glove allow you to touch or handle the energy in a magical portal?”

The woman nodded.  “It sure would.  In fact, if you were holding a metal staff of some kind with the glove, you could probably even redirect it.”

Fletch’s excitement grew as the connections fell into place.  Now they knew the purpose of the glove, but why did Nudeltulpe have it?  And how did that explain the bolt of energy that hit him?

The ranger shook his head.  The answer to the question of the glove had only led to more questions.  Maybe it was time to check on the Brawlmaster.  He bowed his head in thanks as he shook Mary Jane’s hand and nodded at General Grindstone.  He needed to get back to The Two Brothers and share what he had learned with his team.  Then, as soon as the Brawl allowed, he had a patient to visit.