#also i have to predict whether im gonna even need a notebook for a specific class

[the-village-dunce]

back to school shopping sucks when you're autistic

[flowwriter]

The Oracle of ∇φ

The party headed down a long winding path, already exhausted from the days conquests, and still heavy with the knowledge that they must carry on. The path to the old Soothsayer was so well obscured that one could be obscured for missing it completely, and yet once the dense, lush fern was trodden down a small, yet clearly well-worn path emerged in front of them.

The party had been walking for well over an hour when Farnus, the token human of the group, slouched his aching shoulders and bemoaned “This guy better be fucking legit or I swear to God..’ before tailing off entirely.

The halfling cleric accompanying them, named Zensys, was quick to pull Farnus even closer to the brink of hopelessness ‘Or what Farnus? You’ll miss all your axe swings like you did back in Drittensmith? Don’t think we’ve forgotten.’

Farnus, for the second time in as many minutes, silently enjoyed a vision of himself after he had finished this job. Alone, no-one to bother him, no crazy old voodoo prophets to deal with, no halfling brat to make him question his alignment, pure and utter serenity. This bubble was, unsurprisingly, burst, by Koralath, the Goliath, who after careful consideration selected about one of 10 phrases that he knew in Common to express dissatisfaction. A hearty “This. Sucks. No. Point” bellowed forth from his mighty lungs, each word punctuated by a loud stomp. Before either party member could complain of their subsequent splitting headache, the stillness of the summer air was cut with a loud shriek:

“FUCK!”

The party immediately lost their calm composure and assumed a battle stance. Koralath even managed to process that this wasn’t a time for loud oafishness, progress that Farnus quietly appreciated, as the last time stealthiness was required, Koralath had cost the party quite a lot of HP by loudly asking nobody in particular where the nearest tavern was.

Even more surprisingly, a young tired-looking elf immerged, from seemingly (even to Zensys’ trained eyes) nowhere at all. He was dark-skinned, long-eared and fairly lanky, carrying himself as if he was unfamiliar with his build. His tired, yet sharp and analytical eyes, panned across the general area that the party occupied through his long unkempt hair, which covered an unreasonable portion of his face.

Apparently oblivious to his almost certain demise at one of the most respected parties in all of the North, he suddenly acknowledged the heroes with a start, only to stare at them indignantly, before somehow confidently complaining:

“You’re about 14 seconds late! You –“ He pointed an accusatory finger at Zensys “had the audacity to chat up that barmaid for a few extra seconds this morning didn’t you? She is gay, incidentally, although she doesn’t realise that for three more hours, so it was all wasted anyway.”

This outburst had a markedly different effect on each of the heroes. Koralath’s brain simply chose to reject the information entirely, instead delighting itself with a fantasy of the small elf’s imminent slaughter. Farnus’ brain, if it could have, would have rolled its eyes and done a little finger gun motion towards its head. However, it soon settled back into its familiar groove of assessing the new enemies’ weak spots.

Zensys brain, understand every word perfectly, and was almost convinced its body to run back and confess its undying love to the aforementioned barmaid. It reasoned that it was better than wasting her time galivanting with her companions, one of which was almost bound to double-cross her, as this was the way things generally worked.

Without any regard for the internal journeys each party member was taking, the curious elf continued. “Look, I appreciate the mental taxation that took on you, but if we take more than about a minute and a half here I can’t reasonably apply the Central Limit Theorem anymore and if that happens I think I’m gonna scream’

This was the final straw for both Farnus and Koralath, who simueltaneously drew their weapons, falling back on their most basic warrior instincts. The young elf began to leisurely flip through a small, tattered notebook retrieved from a concealed pocket. Koralath’s brain, having first began what can only be described as a blue screen, swang wildly at the elf’s head.

Unfazed, the elf stayed stationary. Koralath’s swing, almost in spite, careened a wild path through the air before cratering a mere two inches from the elfs side. Apparently, untroubled, the elf continued:

“NO, sorry, you were twe- ELEVEN seconds late. You don’t add a constant when integrating I through that first order differentiation product rule trick do you? Im ever so sorry. Would you like to come in? NO” He hastily scribbled through several lines of illegible symbols on the notebook. “TEN and a half MAX. And also it…” Another scribbling “doesn’t matter whether you want to or not, you WILL follow me in about three or four seconds regardless”.

The party, all now suffering terrible headaches, did indeed follow suit. Single file, they mopily trundled through the dense underbrush towards a hut which, although commonsense told them it was purposely built, seemed almost accidentally put together.

The confusing elf had left the door open behind him, and the party followed suit.

What they saw before them almost turned their stomachs. Hundreds of pages of scrawled writing coated each wall. A large, dark, once proud desk lay sunken into the ground. Piles of textbooks surrounded its border, and the party’s only clue to the huts inhabitants was a sliver of brown hair peaking over the top of them all.

Indeed, the elvish oracle was sat in a ornate, yet tattered armchair in almost the direct centre of the room. Although none of the party would here, he muttered ‘Told you’ under his breath before rising.

“MATHEMATICS!” He exclaimed. None of the party had an idea what he meant. Koralath added ‘kill goblin named ‘mathematics’??” to his mental to-do list.

The elf, wide eyed and clearly finished waiting for any intellectual input from the bewildered adventurers, continued.

“You see, all these oracles and soothsayers trying to predict the future with runes and smoke and ritualistic sacrifices –“ Farnus’ perked up, ritualistic sacrifices was his weekend hobby, “all rot! Its nothing more than taking an integral over all space and then all – sorry DOUBLE integral – and then all time. Because you know d-t and d-S is just a function of...yeah… And then, that’s an axiom! Well, its, I mean not really but I’m the only one doing – yeah, doing this. So its an axiom, anyway yeah this horrible function comes out, but its like, that’s why I can’t, and No-one can predict exactly. In fact, we, well I only found analytical solutions like a few weeks ago, but, even then its not elementary and-‘.

Beyond this point, no living being, apart from the elf himself, registered the specifics of his diatribe, and as such the rest was lost to history.  Zensys was the first to awake from the spell of the elves’ rhythmically pulsing speech, and found her emotions turn to anger.

“Look, you incel little bitch, can you help us out or not-“

The elf, taking Zensys’ words very slightly to late to feign that he was at all paying attention to anyone but himself, again perked up.

“Oh yes, of course, just let me uh…’ and so he took away to the grand battered arm chair, made a wide sweep with his arm to remove what almost seemed like important documents from his table, and began frantically scratching a weather quill across a piece of hard flaky parchment.

If the adventurers had hoped that this moment would hold them in great and suspenseful intimidation, they would have been disappointed. Not for the lack of expertise by the elf, but by his constant muttering and exclaiming, as well as his seemingly incessant need for someone to tell him how smart he was, as evidenced by his constant glancing to the three heroes for even the slightest validation.

About 10 scrawled, illegible pages of random symbols (3 of which had been crumpled up and thrown to the floor in anger), the soothsayer began to grunt ever so more excitedly, until at a sudden burst he sprang forth from his well defined groove in his ancient seat.

“OK, so whom now the rolling dunes may cover, he shall be your saviour and ours forevermore, well for an arbitrarily long period of time, I just took the limit from an arbitrary direction. And those who were quelled under something which calls itself the ‘Lost Great One’” He took just a moment to assess the relative not-greatness of his visitors. “Yeah, good luck with that one guys, will rise at least a whole multiple of twice more before the end of days. Oh but OH! You will succeed, yeah the second derivative is positive, so you will reach a global maximum here.” He seemed, unsurprisingly to at least Farnus, amazed at his own derivation. He added an extra layer of insufferability by adding “Gotta say guys, it usually doesn’t work out this well, and I do this all the time.”

Farnus, having counted to 10 at least 3 times since the start of the second painful diatribe spoken by the elf who was looking easier and easier to kill by the second, quickly interjected “yes, yes, wonderful thankyou so much, oh brainy one. We’ll be on our way now”

The elf, seemingly impervious to registering the feelings of others, mentioned to the backs of the party members “Oh don’t forget to drop by again soon!”

But as soon as the rickety door closed behind the large frame of Koralath, he realised that a simple derivation would prove that they wouldn’t. Which was a shame, he soon realised, as not even a second after his heel had turned to begin a well deserved afternoon nap in the comfortable armchair, he realised that “Oh shit, the second derivative is positive which means it’s a global minimum, so well they’re doomed to, oh” – all of which was muttered out loud too. It was, he consoled himself with, going to be an interesting adventure.