fandomhigh | Adventuring for Idiots, Because Clearly You Need It [Thursday, 2nd Period]

Cara had informed her students to meet her at the causeway.

"I'm taking advantage of our current location for this," she said once there seemed to be the right number. "So follow me, and try not to get lost. That means you too, Leroy."

In short order Cara led them over the causeway and into Stormwind, and from there into one of the taverns in the Dwarven District, where she pointed them towards a large corner table with a view on the common room. "Sit."

Once everyone was seated, Cara continued. "So you're probably in this class because you like the idea of adventuring, or because of some kind of paperwork error," she said. "When it comes to adventuring, the first and best lesson I can give you, is don't. Adventures get people killed, and if you're fortunate, it'll be the other guy.

"But since you're either going to ignore that or have no choice in the matter, the next bit of advice I can give you is to try to be smart about what adventures you go on, and one way to do that is to not walk into obvious traps, which is why we're here, as taverns and the like are one of two place where people inevitably come up and ask you for help." The other was wandering around outdoors minding your own business, but Cara was in no way stupid enough to tempt fate by having the class do that. "So we're going to spend this class observing. Pay attention to your fellow patrons, especially if someone comes up to them with some kind of idiot quests. Discuss what makes them seem trustworthy or not. Try to be discreet. Apparently it's a bad example if I get into brawls during classtime." Plus she might have to pay for damages.

"But before we get started with that, first class means introductions. So name, class, one time you might have avoided trouble if you'd looked before you leaped."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"A bit of an adjustment like a bit of a longer trip," Tip said, smiling back. "How are we supposed to tell if anyone in here is shifty or not? I don't know how this culture works."

Ringo laughed softly. "I don't know if I'm the right person to ask. I mean, like, that guy in the corner with his hood up, is he being shifty, or just passed out drunk?"

"Or he works nights and is trying to take a very strange nap. Or he's horribly scarred and shy about it. Ooo, or it's three toddlers wearing a really long hooded robe and doing a poor job of being subtle."

"Oh, oh, I really like that last one!" Ringo grinned. "Now I hope I don't find out it's something else, so I can imagine that one. All sharing a mug of crappy beer."

"Not that they know it's crappy. As toddlers, they have very little to compare it to."

"Unless they're in here all the time," Ringo smirked. "Maybe they've been doing this for a while."

"But then they'd still be drinking the same kind of crappy beer," Tip pointed out. "The one on the bottom probably complains about always having to be the feet even though he's the biggest, so changing it around would make them too top heavy." In her head, they were a bunch of Boov instead of a bunch of toddlers, and the one on the bottom had six permanent little foot-stump marks on his inflatable head. She was going to have to try drawing it out in a little comic for J.Lo, make him snarf chlorine out of his -- well, no, okay, he didn't have a nose. Or any air holes other than his mouth. Still, he'd enjoy it.

"That's just unfair. Always having to be on the bottom?" Ringo shook her head. "Now I feel bad for him!"

He totally didn't exist, Ringo.

"Tactics aren't about fairness," Tip said with great wisdom. "Toppling over would ruin their cover."

Ringo looked around, raising an eyebrow. "You think they'd actually get in trouble if they did get caught?"

"It's not about whether I think that," Tip said. "It's whether they do." Though, no, it didn't much look like the management would even blink if one of their patrons turned out to be three people stacked on top of each other wearing a raincoat. "I bet they have a club. Called . . . Boys Out Ordering Beer."

Boys' clubs always spelled 'Boob'. Always. And this one didn't even have to omit extra letters in its acronym.

Sadly, Ringo didn't even catch the acronym thing. She just nodded. "Wouldn't surprise me. With a secret clubhouse and everything."

"And a sign saying 'no girls allowed'."

"How do you think they spelled that?"

Adventuring for Idiots, Because Clearly You Need It [Thursday, 2nd Period]

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