"You must learn some self-discipline," (Patreon)

I scolded Rebecca. "Perhaps it would be safer to stick to the Voice of the Forest. You can't really bring peril upon yourself with that."

"I'll admit, the ability to talk to trees is fascinating," Rebecca admitted. "But people back home in Bunkirk used to think anyone who talked to trees was crazy. Or demon-possessed. Naturally I'm all for it, but wouldn't it be wise to give me some defensive magick I can use right away? With Burnside around, I'm always in peril no matter what."

"You have a point," I sighed. "But the Orgasmic Touch I used on Burnside was originally meant as a Wiles spell to enhance venery. I've found it extremely useful as a self defense spell, because honestly the first things I learned were ... let's just say my repertoire was limited."

"Is it time at last for me to learn Wiles and venery magick?" Rebecca murmured, blushing heavily. "I ... am ready, my lord."

I stared at her, suddenly uneasy. Being a femme, Rebecca already had a head start in the Wiles department. This situation could become dangerous if not handled properly!

"No," I decided. "It is not time for that yet. However, it might be a good idea to teach you some self defense spells now. But remember, you must not be reckless with your budding powers. Consider carefully before you work any magick. Your own safety depends on it. Now here's a useful little Whammy that will temporarily incapacitate most foes, with a few exceptions which I'll elucidate as we go along..."

A little while later, Burnside casually strolled up to us with a smug look on her face and a fancy double bardiche in her hands.

"Quite a day ain't it?" she asked breezily. "I was havin' a wonderful dream where Adler was holdin' me down an' violatin' me while my lowfolk pappy choked to death in the next room, an' then I woke up layin' acrost a big ol' pile of weapons. An THEN, as if thangs couldn't of gotten better, my hand just happened to fall right onto the shaft o' this here beauty. I reckon that's a sign I oughtta pick it for keeps."

"That weapon seems strangely familiar," I said thoughtfully. "Here, let me examine that while Rebecca practices her new spell on you."

"Uh, sure," Burnside agreed, handing the bardiche to me, "but what spell- UGH!"

As Rebecca zapped Burnside repeatedly to get the technique right, I examined the bardiche that Burnside was flaunting. Something about its design, or perhaps the enigmatic glyphs on the blades, was triggering a dim memory - perhaps from one of the obscure folktales I had learned as an elflet. Could this be one of the fabled artifacts of Old Faerie, from the Long Ago? I was saddened to think that a legendary hero might have perished in the Plague of Battles. Then again, the size of the weapon suggested that it would have had to be a very diminutive hero, not much taller than Burnside herself.

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