Word: Mammock

mammock

[ mam-uhk ]

noun

a fragment; scrap.

verb (used with object)

to break, tear, or cut into fragments; shred.

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               Two men looked at the rows of monitors with clinical interest. They each held clipboards ready for note taking. On the screen was a room that looked like it had been hit by a fierce storm. Bits and pieces of cloth were scattered everywhere. Stone and metal were almost as wide spread, scattered in fragments of various sizes. And blood. There was a lot of blood covering the floors and walls.

               This room had a lone occupant. A huge, eight foot tall creature that looked like a wolf mixed with a human. The beats looked around its surroundings and let out a growl unheard by the observers. It reared back and howled at the ceiling. And then, it went wild. It flung its massive, powerful body at the walls in an attempt to escape. It lashed out with inch long claws that tore through the thick metal walls like paper. One of the observers felt a twinge of nervousness seeing that. But the walls were thick and strong, and the beast would be unable to get much further.

               That did not stop it from trying. It tore the walls, trying to find some weakness in the heavy steel. It would find none. Even the doors were more than two feet thick and heavily reinforced. The wolf-like creature was well contained. The men watched closely.

               One of them turned to a different row of monitors, this one showing various vital signs and physical readouts on the creature. Information that would be valuable, coming curtesy of the various sensors and scanners they had placed inside its body while it was still vulnerable to their tools. Now that effort was paying dividends with data more valuable than gold.

               One of the heavy walls on the opposite side of the room slid open. Another animal was forced into the room. This one was a simple cow. It tried to return to the room it had been contained in, crying out in fear as its instincts warned it about the dangerous predator. The wall was already sliding into place.

               The creature spotted its meal. The stopped clawing the walls and turned to the doomed cow. Then it pounced. It easily cleared the twenty feet between them in a single jump. Sharp claws and teeth bit into the helpless animal. All it could do was cry out in pain as its flesh was torn from its body. And soon, fresh blood and shards of bone was all that was left.

               Its hunger sated; the huge wolf-creature calmed considerably. It stalked around the room, no longer clawing at the walls. Instead, it looked around. It took in its surroundings with keen eyes and even keener nose. It breathed deeply, smelling the air, using all its senses to find a way out. For now, it found none. And so the beast walked and waited. The observers knew it was trying to get out. They knew what would happen if it did. But for now, it was contained.

               When the night was over, and the beast changed back into its human form, they would be able to make sure it stayed that way.

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Werewolf? Or maybe therewolf.

Word: Brummagem

 

brummagem

[ bruhm-uh-juhm ]

adjective

showy but inferior and worthless.

noun

a showy but inferior and worthless thing.

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               Two men entered the Guild. One was young, barely into his teenage years. The other, much older. Both were well dressed, and the older man carried himself with the poise of one who had seen and done more than most even thought possible. The people in the room gave the two a quick glance, then returned to whatever they had been doing.

               “Trill.” The man said.

               “Yes, Master?”

               “Today I give you one of the most important lessons of your life. If you forget all my other teachings, remember this one.”

               “Yes, Master.” The boy, Trill, said. He looked at his teacher with an intensity few his age could muster.

               “You know why we’re here, yes?”

               “Yes. It’s to hire some adventurers to guard us.” The youth cocked his head to one side. He had been expecting a lesson, not a question.

               “Look around. Tell me who you think we should hire.”

               Trill did as he was told. Most of the adventurers in the Guild wore low quality armor, and bore weapons that hardly seemed impressive. Most of them were men, but a few women lounged around as well. Trill’s eyes passed over most of them, landing on one man who stood out like a gold coin among a heap of slag.

               This man was tall, handsome, and wore armor that gleamed. This was someone who looked like he belonged in a story book. A valiant knight who always saved the day. This was someone who Trill thought he could count on to see him and his Master to their destination.

               “That one.” He said, pointing to the impressive fellow.

               “Hm, yes, he does look the sort, doesn’t he?” The older man said. “But, he is also the worst choice. The best choice would be him.”

               Trill’s teacher pointed to a man who looked to be in his 30s. The warrior wore armor that had seen better days. Small dents and scratches could be seen along his armor, and the sword resting at his side had no ornamentation on the hilt. Faint scars dotted what little skin could be seen, and he did not seem to care at all about his personal appearance. To Trill, this man seemed better suited to banditry than guard duty.

               “Do you know why I chose that man over your pick?”

               “No, Master.”

               Trill was guided over to a less occupied corner of the Guild’s large common room. The two sat at a corner table, where it was less likely anyone would hear them.

               “The man you chose looks impressive, yes. His arms and armor are pristine and beautifully made. Do you know what that tells me?”

               “That he’s the best, because he can get the best gear?”

               The teacher smiled and laughed at his student’s answer. “No, Trill. That’s not what that means at all. It means all he’s good for is looking impressive. That man has more money than sense, and I very much doubt he’s fought a day in his life. See how he carries his sword on his right hip? Now, look how he stands. How he leans against the bar. He favors his right side. No warrior with more than a month’s training will carry his weapon on his dominant side. He is a showpiece. A pretty thing to be admired, but with little real function. Now, look at the man I chose.”

               Trill did so. The lad thought the man met his gaze, even from across the room. But that was probably just his imagination. His teacher continued.

               “That man has been in a fight. More fights than you have days of life, if my guess is correct. He found a good set of arms and armor, and he has taken care of them well. See the dents in his armor? Each one is where the metal saved his life, and where he worked to repair it. His sword is simple, but it works. A blade needs no jewels or gold to cut through an enemy. And the scars on his skin tell tales of fights that he survived. How he was hurt but kept on fighting until his opponent could not. That is a man who knows how to protect. That is a man who I would trust my life to. Do you understand?”

               “I…think so?”

               “What is the lesson then?”

               “When choosing a guard, go for the one with the most worn out gear and the most scars?”

               “No, Trill, that is not the lesson. The lesson is to not be blinded by what looks impressive. Instead, look for what will work best in any situation, regardless of what it may look like. Look beyond the surface, and see what a person or object is really made of, and choose the sturdiest, not the flashiest. That is the lesson. And it is the most important thing you will ever learn.

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When two knights fight, don't bet on the one in shining armor. Bet on the one whose armor is dinged and dented. That's the one who actually knows how to fight. That's the one you should fear.

Word: Hydra

 

hydra

[ hahy-druh ]

---

noun, plural hy·dras, hy·drae [hahy-dree] for 1-3, genitive hy·drae [hahy-dree] for 4.

1. (often initial capital letter)Classical Mythology. a water or marsh serpent with nine heads, each of which, if cut off, grew back as two; Hercules killed this serpent by cauterizing the necks as he cut off the heads.

2. any freshwater polyp of the genus Hydra and related genera, having a cylindrical body with a ring of tentacles surrounding the mouth, and usually living attached to rocks, plants, etc., but also capable of detaching and floating in the water.

3. a persistent or many-sided problem that presents new obstacles as soon as one aspect is solved.

(initial capital letter)Astronomy. the Sea Serpent, a large southern constellation extending through 90° of the sky, being the longest of all constellations.

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               The group of adventurers his behind a large rock, knowing it was not a viable long term solution to their problem.

               “So, remind me again, whose idea was it to fight a hydra again?” Asked a man with a bow in his hands.

               “Pretty sure it was Henry’s.” Answered another, this time with an ornate staff clutched in his hands.

               A third, armed with a large battle axe growled. “I didn’t know it would be like this. I mean, we’ve handled plenty of strong monsters before. This should’ve been a cakewalk.”

               “A cakewalk?” the archer said. “It’s a hydra. A monster famous for regrowing heads. Remind me what you favorite way to kill things is again?”

               “I thought Marshall would do something about it.” Henry said.

               “Me?” The mage exclaimed. “What did you expect me to do about it? Stop it from regrowing heads?”

               “Uh, yes?”

               “How would I do that exactly?”

               “I don’t know, freeze or burn the necks or something?”

               “You’re kidding, right?” The archer said. “Have you not been paying attention to how he operates?”

               “Of course he hasn’t, Jack. Why would he.” Marshall said. His voice was heavy and full of barely concealed hatred for the warrior.

               “I’m too busy chopping heads off to worry about what’s going on behind me.” Henry said.

               The other two sighed. Of course he was not paying attention. Why would he? It was only his job to make sure neither of the other two got hurt. A job that he was currently failing spectacularly. The trio heard a massive crash from deeper inside the cave. It would not be long before it could get to them, and then it would not matter what they were hiding behind.

               “Okay, since you’re too dumb to notice what your own party is capable of, let me instruct you.” Marshall said. “I am a geomancer. And, since you obviously have no idea what that means, it means I am and earth mage. I use rocks. I use dirt. I use the very ground upon which we walk. You want someone impaled on a stone spike or crushed in a stone hand, I’m your man. What I am not, is any other type of mage. I cannot burn things. I cannot freeze things. I cannot electrocute things.”

               “Well why didn’t you say that before?” Henry growled.

               “I did. Several times. I said it when you took the quest.”

               “He told you while we were heading here.” Jack chimed in. “Several times, in fact.”

               “Right. I also told you before entering the cave. And I’m telling you now.”

               “Plus, all the times that you’ve seen him cast earth spells, and not any other kind.” Jack said. “Pretty sure you should’ve figured it out after all those times. Hell, it’s the only reason we were able to run away after you cut off, what, three of its heads?”

               “Okay, we can all play the blame game later.” Henry sighed.

               “Oh, but I want to. Look, here, let’s play now. It’s your fault. There, I win.” Marshall said. Henry muttered incoherently for a moment before he continued.

                “We can do that later. For now, we need to figure out how to kill that thing.”

               Jack and Marshall looked at each other before the archer spoke up.

               “Henry, we don’t kill that thing. We run before it gets through all those rock walls Marshall put up. We can’t kill a hydra. We told you we can’t kill a hydra. We told you repeatedly wee can’t kill a hydra. And yet, here we are, trying to kill a hydra. Now that you’ve learned what the two of us already knew, we can run. We can report the quest a failure and let another group take care of it. A group with the means to actually take it down. We’ll take a bit of a rep hit, but let’s face it, nobody was expecting us to succeed anyway.”

               “I remember some people very clearly telling us not to take this quest.” Marshall said. “I believe their exact words were ‘You shouldn’t take this quest. You’ll die if you do.’”

               “We’re not running. I don’t run. Even if you two run, I’ll stay here to either kill it or die trying. But it doesn’t matter, since I know how to kill it.” The other two sighed. Another crash echoed through the cave as the monster broke another wall. “You’re an earth mage, right, Marshall?”

               “Wow, it’s amazing, you’re actually capable of learning.”

               “Well, we’re in a cave. Just drop it on the hydra. It’s heads regrow, but its body doesn’t, right? So crush it under the cave or something.”

               Marshall was about to explain why that would not work. He was not nearly capable to dropping enough stone on the beast to kill it. Before he could though, the third crash reached them. The hydra let out a furious roar from each of its heads. Then its heavy footfalls filled the air. Before any of them could protest, Henry raised his battle axe and stepped out from behind the rock.

               “We’ve got our plan! Let’s do this!”

               And with that, he rushed towards the monster, ready to fight once more. The other two followed much more reluctantly. They could not just leave him. After all, a good meat shield was so hard to find.

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When doing something in a group, always listen to your teammates. Even if you aren't in a potentially life threatening situation, it's still something you really need to be doing. It's amazing how many people haven't seem to have figured this out.