Wizardly Dude
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[TEA] (134) 3.33. The Mogrant Whisperer
🕑 Added 2025-10-09 16:00:05 +0000 UTCPlacing his potions within his rift as soon as he was hidden in a nearby alleyway, Asher checked on his other last-minute purchases. After his recent experience choking in a giant dust cloud, he’d decided to try and find a few more mundane methods of solving such issues. He had more than enough space in his Personal Rift to keep stuff tucked away until he needed it, so not having anything to help with stuff like dust or dangerous objects seemed like a massive oversight.
Thankfully, Polly had plenty of spares of her own personal protective equipment, and she gladly threw in a set of her old ones along with his purchase, once he promised he’d stop by again if he ever needed any more potions. Because of that, he now had heavy-duty goggles he could use to protect his eyes, an actual breathing mask that secured tightly around the back of his head to filter out harmful particles, which would have been a godsend to have while fighting Eight, and even a pair of gloves that were tested and safe to use to pick up dangerous objects.
To a point. Polly had made it clear that there were different levels of protective equipment, and while hers looked impressive to the layman, apparently, there were all sorts of horrifying, quite deadly things out there that wouldn’t give a damn about his gear. She’d warned him that the gear should be treated as a last resort, and only used when he had no other choice.
Even so, he felt a lot safer having some gear he could grab and throw on when the need arose. The two slowly closing holes in his torso were an excellent reminder that something as simple as choking on dust could potentially be the death of him.
Potions gathered and equipment secured, Asher decided it was high time to return to the caravan. The sun was finally going down, which meant the food wagon would be opening up soon. He didn’t know how effective their little charade of pretending like he was still with the caravan would truly end up being, but it didn’t hurt to try.
Focusing on Samantha’s mark, the world shifted around him, and Asher popped into the wagon. Unsurprisingly, he found Samantha working on what looked like a hat with her new crochet tools. But the moment he appeared, she put that aside and jumped up.
“Took you long enough,” she teased, pulling him in for a hug. Asher winced as she put pressure on his injured chest, and unfortunately, Samantha was far too observant to let something like that slip past her. “What happened?” she asked, taking a step back pulling his cloak open. To her credit, she merely blinked at the two cauterized holes in his torso, her expression barely changing more than a slight widening of her eyes.
“Took out a senior assassin who had a rather deadly attack,” Asher admitted, reassuring her with a smile as he took her hands in his own and let his cloak fall back over him. “It wasn’t even much of a fight. Guy only got the hits on me because the building collapsed and he fired blindly into a dust cloud I was coughing in. I’ve already taken steps to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”
“Alright… Just be careful.” She frowned, biting her lip. “Do you want me to heal you?”
“Thanks, but I’m going to let this one heal via my own skills. Trying to level them up as much as I can with all the fights we have ahead of us.”
“Probably for the best.” She nodded. “I know the plan was for me to stay in here and pretend like you’re with me, but I thought I might spend the next few days going around and seeing if I couldn’t level my own healing skills. I figure there have to be people getting hurt here and there.”
“That’s not a bad idea! Honestly, I don’t think we’re fooling anyone,” he admitted. Even if Owl was still following them and no longer in Dormaul, he had a good feeling the Knuckles were all in communication with one another, which meant the mysterious Fox that Slag had mentioned had probably let Owl know that Asher was still keeping busy in Dormaul. “So yeah, no need to stay cooped up in here the next few days.”
“Well thank God for that!” She giggled, giving him a coy look. “Though I wouldn’t mind being cooped up in here with you, if you ever need a break from slinking around the city and stabbing people.”
“Let’s grab dinner before they close the food wagon, then I’ll see what I can do,” he winked, making sure his cloak covered his torso before pulling her out of the wagon.
“Asher!” Brant beamed, waving at them from his spot in line. The fact that the leader of their caravan deigned to wait in line for his meal just like everyone else only made Asher like the man even more. Letting those behind him pass him, Brant joined them at the very back of the line, quickly clapping him on the shoulder with a large hand.
Thankfully, he clapped him on the shoulder that didn’t have a giant hole right below it.
“Haven’t seen much of you since the ordeal with the tree-guy this morning. How are you holding up? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
“No, nothing more than a few splinters here and there,” he said, nudging Samantha. “And thanks to our resident sharpshooter, I’ll be the last one to eat a face full of splinters.”
“No kidding, that was some shot!” Brant laughed, turning and clapping Samantha on the shoulder as well. “It’s been years since I’ve seen such deadly accuracy!”
“I’m a hunter,” she said quietly, her face red with embarrassment at all the sudden praise. “It’s what I do.”
“Still, impressive shooting. Doubly so if you don’t have any skills to help with that,” Brant said, nodding toward her bow. At this point, Samantha never went anywhere without her bow and quiver strapped across her back. They never knew when they’d be attacked, after all. “I saw the extra punch your bow gave you, but I’m assuming it’s just more power?”
“The aiming is all me,” she confirmed with a smile, reaching over her shoulder and touching the bow lovingly. “But yeah, the added power is from the enchantment. Did you know Asher gave me this bow? The very first day we met in fact.”
“Now that’s how you treat a woman!” Brant laughed, drawing a few amused looks his way. It seemed people were more than used to the loud man’s antics by now. “Who needs jewelry or fancy clothing when you could give them an enchanted weapon?”
“Do you have someone special as well, Brant?” Asher asked, curious as to the answer. He figured if Brant was in fact soft on someone, they’d probably be here with him in the caravan. Even so, he got the vibe that Brant didn’t mind talking about that type of thing regardless of the answer, and it didn’t hurt to ask.
Samantha’s face was also turning so red he was afraid she’d get a nosebleed before long if Brant kept talking about her.
“Ah, there was a lucky someone a few years back,” Brant said, his smile dimming ever so slightly, but his eyes filling with warmth. “Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be. I was cursed to wander these lands with my mogrants by my side, and that’s more than enough for me.”
“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask where your mogrants came from in the first place," Samantha said, clearing her throat and clearly trying to change the topic. “I’ve never heard of any animals like them.”
“They roam the eastern plains, near the edge of the kingdom,” Brant explained, turning to gaze lovingly at the closest mogrant as the three of them steadily moved closer to the food wagon. Staying in line was an interesting experience, as the mogrants were still moving even now. That meant everyone had to continue walking forward, even while trying to maintain their spot in line. “Most mogrants prefer to stay in the plains, but some always end up being more adventurous than others. That makes them rather popular beasts for caravan riders to use.”
“So not all caravans use mogrants?” Asher asked. At this point, he’d figured it was just the norm after seeing how effective they were.
“No, only about a third, I’d say,” Brant said after thinking for a moment. “Horses are probably still the most popular, but that leads to the risk of having to set up camp for the night. I prefer the steady, ever-onward pace of the mogrants.”
“I don’t think you’re the only one who likes them,” Asher said, laughing as he pointed toward the top of the mogrant leading their wagon train.
Sitting atop the fluffy head of the massive beast was Brian, happily petting the lumbering creature and clearly talking to it. Part of him was expecting Samantha to freak out at the sight of Brian riding on top of such a large animal without any sort of saddle, but she surprised him by merely smiling.
“It’s good to see him having fun. Especially after we scared him with the attack from the tree-assassin. I spoke with him after, and when only you came out of that whirlwind of wood, he assumed the worst.”
“Oh crap, I hadn’t even thought about what that must have looked like.” Asher winced, remembering that he’d shoved Samantha into his Personal Rift. To Brian, who only saw Asher emerge from the horrific attack…
No wonder he’d tried to throw himself into the storm of splinters.
“He’s a tough lad, that one.” Brant nodded, eyeing up Brian with what looked like approval. “Already tried to get me to teach him how to talk to the mogrants on more than one occasion.”
“Thanks for humoring him,” Asher said, happy Brian had made something of a friend.
“Humoring him?” Brant asked, winking at Asher before finally grabbing his food and wandering off back toward the head of the caravan. Asher could only stare at his back as Samantha snorted and grabbed food for the three of them.
“Come on, he’s probably just messing with you. Could you help me carry this? Let’s go grab Brian and eat.”
To Asher’s amusement, Brian refused to get down from the mogrant leading their wagon train, insisting that Samantha simply toss his food up to him. It was rare to see the twelve-year-old openly defy a direct order from his sister, but Asher supposed if there was ever a time, it would be while sitting atop an animal three times her height.
Not like that would stop Samantha.
After thrusting the meals into Asher’s hands, Samantha climbed onto the top of the first wagon before leaping up onto the mogrant proper. Brian let out a half laugh, half scream as she grabbed him and, rather than risk trying to yank him down and hurting them both, she simply started tickling him.
“Asher! Asher help!” Brian squealed, desperately trying to roll around atop the mogrant in an attempt to escape. Unfortunately, his safe perch had become his own demise, as there was nowhere to go. Asher swore he heard a deep rumbling that almost sounded like a chuckle come from the mogrant carrying them. But as much as he wanted to investigate that, he had a young child to save.
Shaking his head, he looked around to confirm just about everyone was back in their wagons, no doubt wanting to actually sit down to enjoy dinner. Shoving the meals into his Personal Rift, he created a tunnel of compressed space and stepped directly up onto the mogrant’s back.
“Sorry, Samantha, I can’t ignore a cry for help!” he declared, jumping into the fray and helping Brian fight off his older sister. The two of them worked together to turn the tables on her, but it was a hard ask. While they had the numbers, Samantha was distinctly better at grappling than either of them, and she played dirty as well. Anytime they managed to get the upper hand and started to try and tickle her, she sprayed them in the face with water.
Asher ended up getting some use out of his protective goggles far quicker than he expected, and he took blatant advantage of the fact that Samantha was obviously trying to avoid putting any pressure on his injuries. In the end, the three of them found themselves lying on their backs atop the still-moving mogrant, chuckling weakly as they caught their breath.
“Truce!” Asher begged, raising a hand and waving it about, wishing he had a white flag handy. “I’m too weak from hunger to keep going!”
“Why don’t we call it there for now?” Samantha asked, sitting up and shooting Brian a knowing look. “We can eat up here tonight, but don’t expect to make a habit of it.”
“Fineee,” Brian drawled, grinning at Asher and quietly whispering. “Thanks for the help.”
“Anytime,” he whispered back, retrieving their meals and handing them out. “Though I will say, I’m looking forward to seeing you come back from that academy strong enough to take on your sister without my help one day.”
The thought seemed to fill Brian with perhaps a tad more excitement than it should have, and Asher snorted, wondering just how often Brian had challenged and lost against his sister over the years.
The three of them sat back on their trusty mogrant, chatting about what the royal guard academy might be like and all the cool things Brian was going to learn how to do once he got accepted.
After a day filled with fighting deadly assassins, it was exactly what Asher needed.
Comments
Spencer Herold
Did you post today’s RR chapter?
