“Hey there, youngster!” From your shaded hiding spot in copse of trees you spy the farm boy, Vintz, being approached out by a red cloaked Lancer.
Last thing you want to do is call attention to yourself with your pants pulled down to your shins so you stayed where you were. It hurt the Hume was too flustered to remember you existed after Lough placed his hand on Vintz’s shoulder, even if it saved you some embarrassment. You had enjoyed his company the last stretch of road.
You are an Impa. One of the hybrid races of Gaya. On average, the elfin eared Impa was smaller than their dwaren ancestors, both in girth and stature, but like Orcs you were attuned to the Passion element which lent your fecund figures a deceptive wiriness. Combined with the dwarvish inclination for tinkering, most Impa lineages possessed a few persistent mutations. Like the horn that looked as if it had been hewn from a slab of crystalline rock mounted on your forehead.
The Hume had insisted you were lying when you told about the legendary Impa Passion Mage who had the bright (non-Impa say mad) idea to turn you into a mono-gendered species. Ages ago, before the Impa had established themselves as a minor race. She didn’t succeed, but centuries of natural breeding have left male and female Impa as rare as hermaphrodites are for many other races outside of Dwarf-Orc families.
“Good luck, Vintz. I’ll be cheering you on.” Although both the boy and Lugh were safely out of earshot you remained cautious while you pulled up your pants. Despite acting like little bit of a cry baby, the Hume boy was very brave. “Stupid too, for forgetting about me.”
A rustle of leaves had you spinning so violently in place you nearly lost balance. “Nyahaha. Guess you’re done.” The twin-tailed Nekomata Beastkin who had spoken peaked through the fingers of her paws. The bluish-green hue of your skin turned an almost Hume shade of pink. “Rurru. An instructor like the thick-headed lout Lugh. Ahhhnyaah, I had planned to prank him before the two of you got in the way.” She landed easily on her feet.
“Ciel of La Zel.” You barely managed to stutter the introduction while simultaneously trying to squirm away from the Beastkin’s yellow slitted gaze as she stalked closer. No longer hidden in the trees, you could clearly see the skintight bodysuit, animal faced mask that hung alongside spell scrolls, magic potions, and other odd tools she wore. “You’re a Ninja.”
“Bingo! A+!” Rurru nearly purred in happiness as she hunkered down and lowered herself to your level. Making her seem far less intimidating. “Lesson one. A Ninja combines the Ninjutsu martial arts with magic. All variants learn to use the Passion Element. And depending on specialization potentially also dabble in specialized areas of Alchemy, Summoning, Light, or Dark Elemental Magic. Others, like the Kunoichi, focus fully on Passion together with the Courtesan arts. You’re not half bad as sneak, nyhaa. In fact, I encourage randomly peeping on people.” You cried out when she suddenly flicked your horn. “You’re also of the Impa Gemspike clan.”
You rubbed your aching forehead. It was not as hard as it looked. “What about it?” Feeling surly after the flick you channeled the emotion into your question.
“Both of them together means you have the natural aptitude to become a great Ninja.” Rurru ignored your pouting. “Nyhaa, lack of magic potential holds most of my students back from true mastery of the arts I teach. Unless you had something else in mind.”
This was the first time you had seen a cat with puppy dog eyes. Was she about to cry? “Well, I...”