The Adventures of Professor Linkle (Chapter One)

I always knew Professor Linkle was crazy; from the moment I had seen the look in my predecessor's eyes as he had walked away from the old nut's house, as I walked towards it. That sick, exaggerated smile on his face, it was almost as if The Professor had given him a thousand gold pieces before sending him on his way. But now I know the truth. Being the apprentice of Professor Linkle is not easy nor is it fun; it's enough to drive anybody to insanity.

Well, maybe it is a little bit fun. In the brief pauses from strenuously carrying his equipment for miles between each and every tiny village in Selumdur, being verbally abused by The Professor's less-spirited 'fans' and washing soot out of my hair after the majority of his wildly miscalculated experiments explode in our faces, I do occasionally get to go searching for ingredients in various places of interest.

My favourite of such places being the Knuckle Mountains, which is where I was just at a few hours ago. Now, upon my descent and return to Jumblefer, I discover that The Professor is nowhere to be seen. The old fool probably just momentarily forgot I existed, confirming for me, once and for all, his supreme craziness.

The boy he sent up in the blistering cold to fetch him a few Winterpeak Mushrooms had just ceased to be in his mind. I'm afraid to say it wouldn't be the first time. I decide to head for the town hall of Jumblefer, hoping The Professor just got bored in our lodge and went to explore.

Now, when I say town hall, I really mean 'slightly larger shack with a wooden sign outside that says town hall'. Jumblefer is one of the smallest villages in all of Selumdur, and that's saying something. Selumdur has suffered immensely in the last few decades from a lack of trade between any of the other four known provinces of Tirmm.

As an island, although a big one, resources are still limited. Or so I'm told. I wouldn't know any different as the trade stopped well before I was spawn, and the supposed last diamond in Selumdur was dug up not long after, 'proving' that without trade we were going to have difficulty surviving. To the people who say that, well I just ignore them. Sure, no diamonds means we don't have the luxury of speed, but I've never been one for luxuries.

My parents died just after I was born so I've never really had any relatives other than my Grandfather, who is probably even more of an old crone than The Professor, and incidentally is the one who set me up as his apprentice. And sure, I might be lazy sometimes, but that's not a luxury, that's just because I've had a hard life and I need more time than average to recuperate. Well, that's what I tell The Professor when he tries to get me up early.

I arrive at the town hall after a minute or two of brisk walking down the cobbled path. The glorified shack looks warm in comparison to the freezing snowfall that I am currently standing in. I ascend the two steps to the door and push down on the handle, frost cracks and for a moment I think the lock has frozen shut, but then it gives way as I fall flat on my face onto the conveniently placed welcome mat.

"Hello!" bawls Jumblefer's mayor, a short and tubby man with a big head and a tone too cheerful for my current situation. He waddles over to me and offers his hand which I use it to pull myself to my feet.

"Have you seen The Professor?" I get straight to the point, not wanting to waste any time.

"I have seen many a professor in my time, young whippersnapper," he laughs, "but I assume you mean the famous Professor Linkle, well I assure you, he is here in Jumblefer but a man of his talents has no time for young fans such as yourself chasing him about everywhere hassling him for autographs!"

"Uh, no you don't understand," I sound confused momentarily as I have not once in my three years of working with The Professor seen any such 'young fans', "I'm his apprentice."

"I see, and how can you prove that to me?" he takes a step back and crosses his arms as though he expects me to perform some kind of magic trick.

"I was with him when he came here to tell you he had arrived yesterday," my tone of voice drops in slight depression as I realise this man does not remember me whatsoever.

"Ah yes, Linkle's apprentice! " he half exclaims, half questions as he throws out his hands in a way that heralds me as some sort of legendary hero that he's surprised to see.

Unfortunately, the look on his face gives away that he still has no idea who I am. Nevertheless, I continue, pretending nothing had happened.

"Yes." I pause because I want to give him a chance to stop pulling that ridiculous pose. He doesn't.

"Where is he?" I ask.

"He's, uh, he's over at Mrs. Marhsalls," he pulls his hands back toward his plump sides and then points at the door which I just came through, "across the road."

"Thank you," I say, turning for the door.

"No wait!" he jumps in front of me, surprisingly quickly for someone so chubby, "can I offer you a beverage?"

"No thanky-"

"Hillary!" get this young gentleman one of our finest ales, "and hurry it up!" he shouts.
A tall, skinny woman emerges from the shadows where I hadn't noticed her before. She seems shy, almost scared.

"This is Hillary, my daughter," the mayor says, as he tries to put his arm around Hillary but due to the height difference ends up gripping her lower torso.

"Hello," Hillary whispers and then scurries off into what I assume is the kitchen because she returns with two drinks, one for me and one for her father.

Even though I was at first not intent upon staying for the drink as the mayor annoys me and his daughter creeps me out, with the knowledge that The Professor is safe and not far from here, I decide to allow myself this one drink. As I take it from the tray that Hillary is holding, the mayor invites me to sit down in an armchair around a small fireplace.

"So then," he says, taking a seat opposite to mine and gesturing Hillary away, "tell me a bit about yourself."

"Well," I try to start but find myself unable to muster anything interesting to say about myself, and unable to face the cheerful and expecting eyes of the man sitting opposite me, I instead opt to look down at the fire, remaining silent.

"Well, well what? Surely you must be somebody boy!" the mayor gives a hearty chuckle and takes another swig of his drink.

"Um, my name is Lucas and I've been apprentice to Professor Linkle for three years," I shrug.

"Ah, a lucky lad indeed! Now, tell me Lucas, is this Linkle fellow all that they say he is?" the man's eyes lit up as though he'd been wanting to ask this question for a while, "does he really perform miracles of science?"

"Um, well he's pretty smart and very odd. But sometimes his 'miracles of science' don't exactly go to plan," I shrug again.

"Of course," his face drops in disappointment, then it bursts into cheer again as he says, "but I'm sure he's the genius everyone says he is, and he can fix any problem whatsoever!"

"Yeah," I say, almost sarcastically, then I finish my ale.

We sit in silence for a good few seconds before our ears are split by a piercing scream coming from Mrs. Marshalls' house.

"What in Tirmm ?" the mayor says as I bolt for the door, run across the street and into the house. The scene before me is a terrifying one indeed.

The Professor is cowering in the corner of the stone-floored living room, crouching down, covering his eyes with one hand whilst swiping at the air with the other.

"Get it away, get it away!" he screams.

On the other side of the room, a rather red-faced Mrs Marshall is standing, left buttock hanging out of her skirt.

"He told me to show him the bite," she explains herself and then runs off into the bedroom, I catch a glimpse of a small round flesh-wound in the offending area before she's gone. The mayor, who had been standing beside me, walks into the bedroom and begins shouting at Mrs. Marshall, something about 'telling it to him lightly' and 'not showing her behind'.

I walk over to The Professor, who is still cowering in the corner. He stops shaking after he notices me standing over him and he rolls his back to the wall, still crouched, then looks up at me.

"Is it gone?" I barely notice his mouth move under his heavy moustache.

"Yes," I help him up.

"We can't stay here," he whispers, collecting several things he had gotten out and placing them back in his satchel, "it's not safe."

"Why is that?" I follow him out of the door.

"Gnurls!" he turns to me and whispers in a dark tone.

"Come again?"

"Gnurls!" he doesn't turn this time.

"And what does 'Gnurls' mean?" I tug on his lab-coat, which he has chosen to wear on top of his big winter-coat as a sign of his scientific devotion. He stops, and turns once more, handing me a small book entitled 'Creatures of Tirmm '.

"Page fifty-seven," he directs me.

Upon turning the pages, I pass several entries on different types of creepers, a couple of spiders and a section on trolls. Finally, arriving at page fifty-seven, I am greeted with a diagram of what looks like a white furry baby with large arms and a single red eye in the centre of its head. A Gnurl.

"A cousin to the common ogre, Gnurls are a smaller, furrier sub-species but should be considered no less deadly. Whilst their diet mainly consists of mountain pigs and coldwater fish, they have been known to attack human settlements within a few miles of their nests. The reason for their transition from binocular to monocular vision is not known. However, in compensation for the lesser number of eyes, the Gnurls' eyesight is normally extremely good, possessing telescopic properties similar to that of an eagle. The Gnurls strength is-"

"Please Cadigan, that's quite enough, read in your head if you must!" The Professor pleads.

We were once again standing in the town hall after I had managed to calm The Professor's nerves, the mayor, or Cadigan, as The Professor called him, had moments ago been reading page fifty-seven to himself aloud, unaware that he was in fact fortifying The Professor's fears. After his silence I was left wondering about why The Professor was so terrified of these 'Gnurls'.

I mean, the fear is quite rational I suppose, they bite and they occasionally attack villages in packs, yet I'd seen The Professor extract the tooth of a sedated dragon without a quiver of the hand, I'd helped him catch a live cave spider so he could keep it as a pet, heck, I'd even watched him drink dozens of odd concoctions that contained unimaginably unpredictable ingredients just so he could examine the effects. The Professor is not a fearful man, not usually, anyway. I decide to confront him directly about it.

"So, why is it that these Gnurls are so gut-wrenchingly terrifying again?" I ask.

"AAAYIE!" he panics just at the mention of their name, "don't be silly, boy!"

"No, I mean, I know they're dangerous but I'm sure we've encountered worse." I push for an answer.

"They're rotten little vermin, that's why!" he screams again, rushing over to the door, seemingly to make sure it's closed.

"Linkle, can you get rid of them?" Cadigan interjects, and for a moment, I'm glad.

"Of course I can get rid of them. But I will not! The little scoundrels saw the last of me in Snowsto..." The Professor cuts off his sentence suddenly, his eyes widen as though he's said something he really didn't want to say.

"Snowstone," I complete his sentence, "what happened in Snowstone?"

"I can't tell you."

"Yes you can."

"Nope."

"Tell me!"

"I ca-"

"I'll just go make us some more drinks." Cadigan excuses himself from the room; his cheery smile has faded into a sort of bewildered look.

"Professor, tell me and then I can understand what the big deal is?" I gesture for him to sit in one of the seats that I and Cadigan sat in earlier. He does so, so I take the opposite one.

"Well," he starts to tell me, then pauses to find himself a comfortable position in the seat, "well, when I was of a younger age..."

"Yes?" I urge him to carry on.

"I was," he coughs, "I was visiting the amiable little town of Snowstone with my mother..."

I nod for him to continue. He tries to avoid my eyes.

"And I had a puss named July. We stayed..." tears begin to well up in his eyes and his voices cracks, "we stayed in a cottage exterior to the town wall because we knew the family that owned it," he sniffs, "and in the night July developed an edacious appetite and I couldn't find any cat food..."

I lean forward in my chair and put my hand on his shoulder as he breaks down. The Professor is a sensitive one, really.

"And so I," he covers his eyes to wipe away the oncoming tears, "so I found some fish in the cupboard and I attempted to utilise some of the chemicals I'd brought with me to enhance the flavours for sweet little July."

"And?"

"And, I guess I over nitrificated the snow berries or something because the fish gave off such a vicious odour that..."

"That?"

"That a pack of Gnurls came and consumed July after she ate the fish." The Professor broke into full-on tears and began wailing very loudly.

"Shhh!" I tried to calm him as this was not looking good for his professional image, "there there!"

"And they devoured Frederick and Jennifer too!" he says in a small break from the wails.

"Who were Frederick and Jennifer?"

"The offspring of Mother's friends," he whispers, "but all I care about is July. Poor July! She just wanted to sate her appetite!" his weeping continues.

I pat him on the shoulder a couple of times before getting up and walking through to the kitchen where Hillary and Cadigan are both sat at the table stunned at how a grown man is having a break down in what they probably considered as their living room.

"Mayor, can I speak with you?" I gesture with him to come closer. He stands and walks over to me.

"Now, son, I know whatever has happened with Linkle must be terrible indeed, a man of his stature in such pain is not something pleasant to witness at all, but I ask of you, no, I beg of you, you have to get rid of this Gnurl problem! It's not long before it becomes an infestation and they expand their hunting grounds! They'll eat us!" he says this whilst tapping the copy of 'Creatures of Tirmm ', so I assume he was quoting from what he'd read.

"Mr. Mayor, sir, I-"

"Please, call me Cadigan," he says as a fraction of his cheery self returns.

"Okay, Cadigan. I assure you, we'll sort this problem for the lowest cost we can offer. The Professor is just having some emotional difficulty right now, once he's over it, you can leave it with us."

"Thank you boy, thank you!" he puts his hand on my shoulder and gives me a good shake, his full cheer erupting again, "if you need anything you know where I am."

I walk out of the kitchen and back into the first room where the professor is still sniffling.

"Come on Professor, it's time to go," I say, opening and holding the door open for him.

He mopes out of the door, pulling his goggles down over his eyes to protect them from the brewing evening blizzard. I notice them steam up within a few seconds so I tug on him throughout the short walk back to our lodge. When we arrive at our lodge, the first thing I do is light the fire as the room is almost as cold than outside. When the room's temperature has improved significantly, I pull up a stool beside the table which The Professor is sat at writing in his journal. I give him a few moments to finish before saying;

"We really should come up with a plan or something."

He continues writing. After a couple of minutes he asks me to fetch some books from his satchel. I do so.

After five minutes of reading one of the books, entitled 'Alchemy and its advantages', he calls me over.

"Did you acquire those mushrooms I asked for earlier?"

"I did," I say, searching my string pouch for the dozen or so tiny Winterpeak Mushrooms I had collected, "I also found some whiteslate."

"Ooh, that will do nicely for a catalyst," his eyes seem to sparkle.

I hand him the small white rock, "I thought it might come in handy."

"You thought correctly young Lucas, and that is why you remain my favourite apprentice thus far," The Professor pats my back. I feel a little bit patronised but I just go with it as, to my surprise, I notice the warm glow of happiness slowly spreading through me.

"Apart from Jimmy, of course."

The happiness is extinguished.

"Ji-"

"Never mind about Jimmy! We must formulate this libation at once!" He stands, holding a piece of paper with several ingredients on it.

"I must say, Lucas, I'm glad I sent you up that mountain for those mushrooms on a whim. It seems the hands of fate have once more eased our burden and quickened our pace!" he says, sounding excited.

"We already have the winterpeak mushrooms and the whiteslate, Lucas, check my satchel for some fireflower seeds, herp powder, mangacoch extract and bread."

I shuffle through his ingredient pouch, finding three out of four of the required ingredients.

"Everything's there but the bread," I reply, laying out the three other ingredients on the table before him.

"Oh the bread is not of any importance, I am just hungry. I suppose you could say as ravished as a puss on a cold winter's night in Snowsto..." he stops himself and then sort of laughs and whimpers at the same time. I force a slight laugh too, unsure of what to do.

"Moving on."

He grabs the satchel off of me and pulls out a small metal pot. He pours water into it, and then hangs it on a hook just above the lit fireplace. He then hands me a mortar and pestle.

"Crush the ingredients into a viscous salve."

I place the mushrooms, the seeds, the powder and the extract into the mortar, having received instruction to powder and mix the whiteslate in last of all. I am grinding the ingredients well past sun down, and after a good few hours of pestling I am happy with my 'viscous salve', so I add powder the whiteslate and sprinkle it into the mixture.

"Professor, I'm done!" I call.

Receiving no reply, I walk into the bedroom to find The Professor snoring. Brilliant. A note by his bedside reads;

Lucas,

Once you have completed the task,

please put the salve into the boiled water.

Leave it for tonight, rest, and I shall reveal

my intentions in the morning.

Linkle

He signed it as though I somehow need proof that he had written it and not some imposter Professor who wanted me to sabotage our potion. I do as the note says, scraping the paste into the heated water before putting on my striped pyjamas and night cap and retiring to my bed.

I lie awake for a few minutes in bed thinking about tomorrow and what was to be done. The last thought in my mind, before dropping off to sleep, is the lone red eye of the Gnurl in the diagram in 'Creatures of Tirmm '.