DAY 525

"Ahhhh! It's too big! It's going wild!"

"Calm yourself! Deep breaths! There's nothing in here you'd be capable of burning...save myself, of course. So please remain pointed in that direction, if you would." The boarkin man smirks as he watches Beatrice bathe a corner of the indoor arena with flame, confident in the knowledge that the stone here has handled far worse. "I'll admit, that was a little more than I was expecting."

After a few moments the magical flame exhausts itself, and Beatrice waves her hand to cool it off. "Yeah, a little bit. Igthen said I seemed to have an affinity towards fire-aspected mana when he was inking me, but I was expecting that to mean it would be easier, not that I'd practically set the building on fire the first time I used it."

"A fire affinity?" The boarkin taps his snoutlike chin in thought. "That's a little surprising."

"Is it? Honestly, it kind of makes sense to me, Kalgin." Beatrice turns to face her trainer with her arms spread wide, and the burn scars marking her body are easy to see. After all, the woman is currently garbed in little more than a loincloth and sandals, with the new tattoos doing little to cover her skin. The sight of her breasts does little to interest the man however given that his own choice of fashion is identical, as indeed is the garb of nearly everyone else living in the town of Stoneden. It had taken Beatrice and her companions a little while to adapt to the local trends, but after three months of living with the boarkin Beatrice barely even notices it herself, anymore.

Besides, if she'd been wearing a shirt she probably would have set it on fire.

"That's not really how it works, human. Yes, surviving dragonfire is impressive - if your tale is true - but it wouldn't grant you an affinity for a particular kind of mana. Such things tend to be extremely rare and inherited. Some say from ancient demigods, or those blessed by the divine. I don't suppose you know if you have a God of Fire in your family tree?"

Beatrice chuckles. "I doubt it, the gods...weren't very active back in my homeland, let's say. But I guess the hows and the whys don't really matter. I can cast fireballs now, and that's more than good enough for me."

Kalgin snorts. "You can't cast shit right now, beyond burning some poor fool's face off. But we'll have to start on training that particular skill later. I don't want to stress your system while it's still adapting." He pokes Beatrice's abs with the tip of his staff. "So how many binds does that make this now?"

The warrior looks down at herself, although she doesn't actually have to count to remember. Her new tattoos - or inkbinds, as they're called - crawl up the sides of her torso and down both of her arms. There's quite a few so far, but still plenty of real estate left for more. "Five. Two of them are the foundational ones, though - the one to help me absorb mana, and this one to help control it. Left shoulder is speed, right shoulder is strength, and now this one is fire." She proudly displays the back of her right hand to the man.

"I'm glad you didn't jump right to that one, at least. Youngsters always want the flashy spells first, I find. Though then again, youngsters often can't afford even the one! Especially not from a master like Igthen!"

"Ha! No one's called me a youngster in a long time, old man - and you're what, five years older than I am? But yeah, I've apparently paid that man so much now he says he doesn't even need more gold. Instead my team and I have been getting him...ingredients." Beatrice frowns at the memory of how she's spent most of the past month. Monster-slaying tasks are old hat to her of course, but butchering the creatures to get the materials the inkbinder uses for his rituals had been far messier than she enjoyed. She's much more used to simply removing a fang or claw to turn in for bounties, rather than extracting organs containing fluids she doesn't even want to know the identities of.

"Haha, very true! Do you think you'll pursue a binding of Youth next, perhaps?"

The woman raises an eyebrow. "Eh, there is such a thing? Does it allow you to cast spells that make you younger?"

The spell trainer shakes his head. "You're too used to traditional spells. True, those speed and strength binds you took need active casting to use, but some binds are passive, and work all the time. A binding of Youth can slow aging, and perhaps even reverse it if you get one elaborate enough!" He smirks and pokes Beatrice with his staff again, this time in the stomach. "Very popular with the rich ladies, particularly combined with a binding of Fertility..."

"Hrmph. A bit too late for that for me, Kalgin." She shakes her head, but pauses at the look in his eyes. "...Wait, are you saying - "

"Much can be restored with youth! Why, Great Mother Uloga was said to still be birthing children well into her eighties! Not a bad retirement, after a youth of adventuring."

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"Well now I'm definitely not getting it! I don't mind leaving that behind, honestly. And I don't plan to retire until I'm dead. But if we're not doing any training today, I suppose I may as well take the rest of the day off. Gonna be at least a week before Igthen lets me do anything more, so I might spend some time on the town with the others. Care to join us?"

The man shakes his head. "No thank you! The last time I spent a day with your Janey, I could barely move the next day! I think I would need a binding of Youth to keep up with her!"

Beatrice rolls her eyes. "Pretty sure that had more to do with the night you spent with her than the day, but fair enough. I'll see you tomorrow!" With a wave Beatrice makes her farewell from the training arena, and quickly exits out into the streets of Stoneden.

Although the fashion choices of the boarkin might seem primitive, their engineering and architectural skills are anything but. Every building in the town is constructed using the heavy wood of the nearby forests, and stone quarried from the mountains to the north. Especially the stone - every house in this town seems built strong enough to individually withstand a siege. And the town still has its own defenses beyond that, with towering thirty-foot walls ringing the area, and a massive fortress serving as the city capital. Even the locals would admit that it's all a bit excessive given that none of the neighboring tribes owns so much as a catapult, but hey, apparently the boarkin just really like building with stone. Nothing wrong with that.

Beatrice makes her way to her party's usual meeting place, that being the town stocks. The minotaurs are easy to see behind the nearby boarkin, although Janey more-so as she towers over the half-dwarf Tassa. She spots Beatrice first in turn and waves to greet her - an enthusiastic gesture that sets her own chest swaying, likely in a very intentional manner. "Beatrice! Out early today? Did the latest binding work?"

The warrior grins and is tempted to display her newfound ability, but reconsiders upon thinking that setting a boarkin on fire would likely see her in the stocks before long. "It did! My body still needs time to adjust to it though, so I won't be doing any training today. Figured I'd stop by and see if you were here yet - and here we are? It's barely past noon, seems to be an early day for you, too."

Tassa grunts. "She got especially eager today, a caravan brought in pet caged birds from the northern steppes, past the mountains. Said she'd bring one home and tame it."

Beatrice winces. "She didn't actually hurt any birds, did she? Or set them loose? That could be...expensive. Also not great for the birds."

"No, no, she was very careful with them. They were still noisy though, so it only took her ten minutes to get caught."

"Not her best day, huh? Well, guess I should go over and say hello." Chuckling to herself, Beatrice pushes through the thin crowd and takes a look at the stocks. Two of the pillories are empty, but the third is occupied with its usual resident. "Hey, Laquerel. How's the weather down there?"

"Not too bad - getting a little cooler at this time of year, but that works out just fine with my fur!" The squirrelkin answers in good spirits, even though her bent-over posture makes it hard for her to get a good look at Beatrice's face. The woman is a little shorter than most boarkin so the guards had provided her with a larger bench to sit on, but that's literally all she has. As usual her pocketed green vest had been confiscated for the day, and given that the woman was never particularly taken with the concept of loincloths or pants the thief is currently bent over and restrained in the middle of public with nothing but her fur on for modesty.

As usual, she doesn't even seem to notice.

Shaking her head, Beatrice sighs. "Really - birds, Laquerel? You know we're not leaving town anytime soon. Were you going to hide live birds in the inn for a month or more? You're damn lucky the locals think you're funny."

The unrepentant woman grins, showing her broad front teeth. "It's all part of the scheme, Beatrice! I'm getting them to let their guard down and then when they least expect it - bam! Boarkin secrets will be in the paws of Thumptown!"

The monster slayer glances over at Tassa, knowing the much-stricter woman will have a better count of these things. "How many does this make it, Tassa?"

"This is the thirty-second time she's been caught, and the twenty-fourth since they started putting her in the stocks. Twenty-seventh day served, though fortunately today's is just a six-hour sentence. They actually seem to be getting more lenient as time goes on!"

"See! The plan's working!"

Janey frowns as she looks at the pillories, knowing she couldn't even begin to fit into one of them. "That can't be good for your back. I mean, I don't mind giving you healing afterwards, but there's a risk it won't work if you keep doing it over and over, you know?"

Laquerel waves her off with one paw. "Bah, us squirrelkin are flexible! Besides, I'm just where I want to be!"

Confused, Beatrice looks around at the town square. There's moderate traffic, but the only thing of note in view is that a nearby stall vendor has started selling Laquerel-themed stuffed squirrels. "...Earning royalties on merchandise?"

"No, she stole my likeness! Which I have to give her full credit for. Very clever. Should've thought of it myself. But no! Everyone in town passes through here eventually, and it lets me study people! Find the best marks." She attempts to tap her head, but her restrained paw doesn't reach far enough.

Tassa leans in towards her companions. "She's either completely crazy or a criminal mastermind, and I still don't know which one I think it is."

Beatrice chuckles. "Either way, at least she's not boring. Hey Laquerel, thought I'd take the girls here out shopping. You okay here on your own for a bit?"

"I'm fine! You three have fun, I'll be hanging around!"

She waves the trio off, and as they get some distance Janey makes a suggestion to the group. "You know, I hear there's a harvest festival going on tonight, in Palain's honor. I'm told it's quite an event."

Beatrice furrows her brow. "Palain, he's one of the gods of the Church of Bounty, right? The members I met back in Grassbrook seemed like a good sort, perhaps we should check it out."

Janey's grin grows wider. "Oh, it's not exactly the Church of Bounty out here. A...cousin organization, perhaps. Still worships Palain and Kahlia, but I hear they're rather...unorthodox."

Tassa gives her companion a suspicious look. "Unorthodox how?"

"Well, come along tonight and you'll find out..."

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