Threadbare Inversion

Inversion

It was a legendary battle.

Alliances were forged and broken.

This was the harsh reality of the ga of draw tag.

And the laughter of many voiceboxes filled the air, as Threadbare did his best to give the juveniles a good workout, without discouraging them. It was fairly hard, given their developntal differences. At least until the Mousewife caught on and switched sides, then they all ganged up on him and chased him around the room, up and down the steps and through the balconies.

Sowhere along the way he lost his hat and it ended up on the smallest of the golems, a little spider girl. She used it to lure him into a few ambushes with the others when he tried to snatch it back. Tane actually laughed at that one, complinting the children for their tactical improvisation.

Mind you, at the level of ntal developnt they were at, they would have had trouble telling the difference between tactical inspiration and turnip surprise, but for the most part they could tell he was happy, and that made them happy. Proctor Tane was a hard man to please, and only in later years of their lives would most of his students realize that was very much a key part of his strategy. He might not be a trainer of Knights anymore, but his approach hadn't changed.

Eventually Threadbare realized that he was down to the rest stub of chalk, and when he went to go fetch more the cup was empty. Looking around he could see that the others were in similar straits, and decided it was ti to call a truce. It took a few minutes to get the ssage across to the very-excited and mostly inexhaustible juveniles, but with so help from Mrs. Beer, they eventually got them settled down into a loose ring around the table while the remaining adults talked.

Tane and Daffodil had left at so point prior, but Graves was still there, sharing a pot of tea with Mrs. Beer.

Threadbare took an empty cup to be polite, and mid drinking it as the conversation continued. The ritual of the tea party had been one of the first he'd learned, and to this very day he treated the act with the respect it was due.

Although it was a little off-putting to be having a tea party without hats. The snail had snatched it during the fracas, and Threadbare had found the act too adorable to take it back.

Thank you for playing with them, Mrs. Beer said. Eye for Detail, she added in as she looked over her charges. Oh yes, that definitely did them good. Mostly in the agility category. Ah, more stamina. They'll be even harder to settle down now...

The complaint had little heart behind it. Her task was to help her young charges grow, and events like this were good opportunities to level stats. Which was the primary function of the Rumpus Room, giving the little golems a safe place to train until they hit diminishing returns on their stats. Until they got to the point where they would need dangerous situations to develop further.

The secondary purpose was to provide a healthy childhood for the juveniles and give them sturdy bonds with their caregivers and companions. Growing up without those could have problematic consequences. Golems needed empathy, or else they didn't understand pain. And pain was a very important concept when you were dealing with humans, dwarves, and other creatures that tended to scream and bleed and suffer when under extre duress. (Concepts which were mostly alien to golems who didn't receive a good education.)

I had a little ti to think, in between tags, Threadbare said. Do you feel that we have enough money to keep the Rumpus Room going? Are we at risk of losing this place? I have so money saved up, that I'm not using for anything. It could go here.

Oh! Oh no, that's quite all right, Mrs. Beer said, waving her hands. Right now we're just having a few problems because of the way trade is shifting. There's no need for

We'll happily accept your donation, Graves said, shooting her a significant look. You're right in that the facility isn't going to close any ti soon, but if you're not using the money we'll take it.

Mrs. Beer's face twisted a bit, in that way that humans had when they had to compromise on sothing. Which puzzled Threadbare, because this seed like a win-win situation.

So he asked her plainly, This upsets you? Why?

She considered for a bit, looked to Graves, who nodded back.

We've had a few of the guilds... offer to support us, if we... did them favors, Mrs. Beer sighed. The implication is that we would steer golems away from working for their rivals. Or give them more consideration in the job fairs.

Which would take us straight into politics, Graves said. We can't afford that, not with sothing as vital as the work we're doing here.

And I know you would never do sothing like asking for favors, Mrs. Beer said, putting her teacup down and folding her hands. But you being one of the council and all, it still feels like any donation we take from you might look like politics.

Oh... Graves said, tugging on his goatee. You haven't heard.

Heard what?

I'm not on the council any more, Threadbare said. That should simplify things. I can give you my money and it won't look improper.

He had expected relief.

But what he got from Mrs. Beer was a look of horror. You were one of our strongest allies, she whispered. What will we do now?

I still am, Threadbare said, puzzled. You're doing very good work, here.

Excuse , Mrs. Beer said, rising and clapping her hands. I need to get the little ones to class. Co now, children. Her voice was wobbling a bit.

Threadbare was mortified. Had he upset her? It certainly seed that way.

Graves laid a hand on his paw, and shook his head. Wait, he mouthed.

All right, Threadbare said both to his friend and for Mrs. Beer's benefit. Thank you for letting us play with them. I rather liked that, haven't had a proper ga with children in a very long ti.

You're very welco. Please stop by... whenever you can, she said, and hurried off, with four eager little oblivious golems in tow.

Oh dear oh dear , said the Mousewife, once she was away. She was holding back tears. What did we do? How can we help?

Graves shook his head. You can't, I'm afraid. She's been under a lot of stress recently. This is very much the last straw on the cal's back.

There's a cal involved in this sohow? Threadbare rubbed the top of his head. This was getting even more confusing.

No. Graves sighed. It... well, we've had problems with people saying very hurtful lies about what we do here. A few of the Council have toured the place and had people inspect it to make sure that we aren't up to shenanigans, but the rumors keep persisting.

I don't recall any of this coming up when I was on the Council, Threadbare said. And I only left a few weeks ago.

Begging your pardon sir, but that makes sense, the Mousewife said. Everyone knows the Rumpus Room was your idea. Of course they wouldn't insult you by saying you was behind killin' children and putting them into dollies.

That's what they're saying? Threadbare was horrified. Which people?

Just... people, the Mousewife spread her paws.

The rumors don't stop, Graves said. And now that you've gone the Council is taking them much more seriously. My read on it is that they're covering their bottoms.

Do they... Threadbare was about to ask if there were Councilors running around without pants now, but this was hopefully so kind of language quirk. He felt a tug of regret that Celia wasn't here to explain it to him.

This will pass, Graves said, rising. And as you've said, you're not a part of the Council anymore. Don't worry about Mrs. Beer. She's under stress, but so long as it stays all talk, and nothing goes horribly wrong, she'll

The world flickered, then faded back in. Flickered, and faded back in.

What is this? the Mousewife squeaked.

Words appeared out of nowhere.

ERROR! NO MASTER DETECTED. DUNGEON SEALING IN 30...29...28...

Sothing's happened to Reason! Graves stood. Quickly, the core chamber's down the southern hall

The countdown stopped.

The words disappeared.

And the room shifted around them, as reality altered...