Intermission: the Heads of School

Belessunu knocked back a shot of whiskey, then sighed, "Poor thing was crying. Must've been terrified."

She paused and glanced at him, "Maybe we're to old for this already?"

Sighing, Isenbert wearily rested a hand against her shoulder, "She'll be fine. And... it isn't... entirely our fault. We're not quite 'to old' just yet, even if neither of us are part of the particularly long-lived species like elf or dwarf."

Nodding, the headmistress placed her own hand on his shoulder before resting her cheek against his hand as she murmured, "Definitely need to schedule re-training for the sensory team. This can't happen again. I don't know if I can handle another student looking so helpless and confused."

He winced, "There was nothing we could have done. The mana disbursal barrier from emergency portal beacons completely stops all magical abilities within it for a full fifteen seconds, and neither of us are equipped to fight a full two teams of city guards with at least a quarter unquestionably having pure physical ability."

Shaking his head, Isenbert's fingers tightened ever so slightly, "Not with our classes, and not at our age. City guards must be at least level two hundred to join, three hundred to promote for lieutenant, and five hundred to promote up to captain. Even if we're both over level six-hundred, there's not much difference discounting our two extra prestiges over most of them."

Belessunu turned a frustrated eye on him with a weary voice, "You don't sound convinced of your own words."

The headmaster shook his head as she knocked back another shot of whiskey, "I... I don't... want to be right. Because I feel as though there isn't anything we could have done even if we prepared for that situation. What if the captain had been more religiously fanatical? Just cut her down on the spot? Demon worshipers aren't just 'considered illegal' by the... 'truly devote'... worshipers. They tend to forget about asking questions. Far to many innocent people have been caught in the crossfire."

His hand slowly slipped from her shoulder and hung at his side as she stared at him, "I worry about all of our students if word gets around about this. True... warlocks and necromancers, the ones actually performing profane acts, can cause far to much damage at far to quick of a pace. However, the fanatics take things to far. Cut to many corners. Endanger to many innocent lives. And end a good number of innocent lives. I... I begin to wonder if the fanatics are not just as much of a problem as the demons themselves."

Isenbert slowly lifted his hand and clutched a pendant baring the symbol of two perfectly balanced scales with a skull in one pan and a plant in the other, "I understand the hope and security religion brings to us mortals, but... is it worth it? Sometimes, I think we're better off left in the dark. It's far to easy to justify horrible tragedies, 'because that is what the gods would want'. And without the good gods in play, the god of balance would not allow interference of the dark gods."

Snorting, Belessunu knocked back another shot of whiskey and shook her head, "It's all the same anyway. Evil people seeking justification to avoid facing the punishment for their deeds. If the gods withdrew, humans would just find different excuses. Hell, they try to find the most absurd excuses even now. I heard there were some idiots trying to say jungles elves were inferior because they had green skin. Can you honestly wrap your head around that? An evolutionary advantage of having chlorophyll to photosynthesize with somehow making them 'inferior'."

The headmistress snorted as Isenbert shook his head with a look of exasperation, then she muttered, "That's almost as absurd as... say... having less or more melanin in the skin somehow making you inferior. Or no, even stranger, being physically male or female making you inferior even though it's like comparing apples to brownies. 'Well you can make apple juice out of apples. You cannot make apple juice out of brownies'. Or, 'Brownies are chocolaty. You cannot taste any chocolate if you bite into an apple'. I mean, some people don't even like apples or brownies. It's all a matter of situational advantage and personal preference. I wish everyone would just stop shoving their poorly made excuses for idiotic actions in my face."

She went to pour herself another shot of whiskey, but he quickly placed his hands on hers, "I... I think that's enough for right now. Wasn't this bottle full when we got here? Plus, you're starting to get a bit loud and I'm a afraid you'll turn your speech segment into a forty minute tirade on the benefits of eating salmon and shrimp from the free-range multi-lake ocean-side farms over ocean-caught tuna or the standard farm-raised salmons and shrimps. Again."

Blinking rapidly, she glanced at the more than half empty bottle of whiskey, "I'm fine. And the free-range multi-lake salmon and shrimp farms are both cleaner than standard farms and more sustainable than ocean tuna. Plus, you get all those pretty flamingos because they're cleaning out the fish that get sick. It's a self-sustaining eco-system that not only benefits society, but also the surrounding area."

Isenbert pulled out a hangover cure from his inventory, "Either no more whiskey for now, or you drink the hangover cure first. We have to set an example for our students, and drunk-Belessunu is not a good example."

She scowled and tugged at the whiskey bottle cork held on by his thumb, "Stop talking as if I'm two different people when I'm drunk or sober. All it does it free me from inhibitions forced into my subconsciousness by society! I can handle my alcohol!"

Trying his best to keep the bottle corked, Isenbert scowled, "People with and without inhibitions... ARE... completely different people even if they're in the same body. I'm not saying it's always a bad thing, or you can't reasonably drink in moderation. I'm just saying you should stop after you lose the negative inhibitions and before you lose the important ones like... stabbing random people because they tried to talk with me. Need I remind you that murder is illegal?"

She smirked, "Only if you're caught."

Isenbert blinked rapidly, "Ok, that's it. I can't tell if you're joking. Now I'm positive that bottle was full when we got here. Drink the hangover cure, or I'll tell the school healer about this."

Whining slightly, Belessunu glared at him, "If you tell the healer, she'll ban me from drinking 'until the magic has helped my liver recover' again. Which takes forever and ever and ever and ever. I don't want to wear the bracelets again! Don't let her make me wear the bracelets, Berty! Don't let her make me wear the bracelets!"

Looking a bit exasperated as he managed to pry the whiskey bottle from her hands, Isenbert pushed the potion against her hands, "Belle, drink the potion or I'm telling the school healer."

She growled at him, "You're such a snitch, Berty."

However, after a few moments, she took the potion from him.

Only to freeze as his eyes widened, "Didn't you already have a fourth a bottle of whiskey back at our office, while we were calling the Brimterel Mightholde main justice department?"

Staring at him, the headmistress hiccupped then glared at him, "As if you've neva' done anything I disproved up."

Isenbert's eyebrows nearly reached up to his hairline, "You did! You've had nearly a full bottle of whiskey! How are you even alive?!"

She snorted and reached for the bottle in his hands, "Heh, 'cause I'm not a pansy ass bitch like you and most o' the resh of our siege party. Shots team for the win! Woot, woot! Shots, shots, shots!"

Fighting a strong urge to facepalm, the headmaster carefully did his best to keep it away from her, "It's mid-morning! You should've even be drinking at this time! This is really becoming a serious problem again. Potion now, or I tell the healer at let her sort you out! Last chance!"

"NO! I won't wear the bracelesh again! Tell 'er 'm un-friendin' 'er! Tell 'er, Berty! My messages sisterm is auto-locke'. Tell 'er we're not frien's anymore."