The Annals of Bel/Mal Tech

By Izza

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Belgariad or Mallorean characters, they all belong to David and Leigh Eddings. The OFU concept, (including the minis), belongs to the inspired Miss Cam, who has graciously allowed me to use it. The rest is for fun.

In the staff room of The Official Fanfiction University of the Belgariad and Mallorean, (affectionately known as Bel/Mal Tech), Professor Hebbes heard a commotion in the hall that could only indicate one thing, Miz' Iz had returned. He sighed, and started to remove his stacks of papers from the chairs, stuffing them into his case as quickly as possible.

She burst into the room, her first and favorite mini-eldrak, Poldra, perched on her shoulder as usual. Slumping down in her preferred beat up leather chair, she flung her combat boots up onto the table, as Professor Hebbes resignedly moved the pile of applications that had been there. Then, as usual for Miz' Iz, she began to talk.

"Hebbie, I think we're just about ready. The courses are all set up, the replica Stronghold is finished, we've got the ghosts of Maragor quartered there until we need them." She turned to look at Poldra, who was still on her shoulder, shaking a pair of dice next to her ear.

"Not now, luvy, mommy has to talk to Uncle Hebbie. Why don't you go see if Bletira or Chamadar want to play." Poldra hopped to the floor and went out the door, yipping cheerfully to herself.

"Tiny," (Professor Hebbes had known Miz' Iz long before she became Miz' Iz, and was entitled to call her by her previous name), "Do you really think the mini's will be up to it? All they've done for the past few weeks is hold endless euchre tournaments. I'm afraid they've lost their edge."

"Never! Did you see the final game last night? Cherec had Gorlim up against the wall, and nearly had his throat out before Beldin stepped in. They'll be fine. Now, about the cirriculum, you wanted to see me about the poetry class?" She took a sip from the battered coffee mug that was never far from her.

Professor Hebbes looked worried. "Nerina has backed out, and says she would much rather work in the daycare. Mandorallen says that only a Mimbrate has the delicacy to teach poetry to Arends, and he's demanding to have the class."

Miss Iz looked pensive for a moment, then shrugged. "We'll let him have a shot at it. If it gets out of hand, we'll ask Beldin to take a few classes. What else."

"Polgara is demanding to take the first sorcery class. Belgarath says she can have it, if he can have a seminar on "How to Not Kill an Audience with Boredom". Beldin is putting the finishing touches on Philosophy 101, "Does Thinking Make it So?", Barak is ready to go with "Weapons 101, "Right Tool for the Right Job", Poledra assures me Monsters 101, "Basic Defense" is all set up, and then told me not to worry so much."

"What about Kheldar and Sadi?"

"Subterfuge 101, 'The Art of Being Artless'". He looked at her quizzically. "Are you sure about those two?"

"They will be just fine. Have Ce'Nedra and Velvet come up with a name for Women's Studies yet?"

"There's still some tension there. Ce'Nedra wants to call it "I am NOT a Brat!" and Velvet wants to go with "You People Wouldn't Know A Strong Woman If She Bit You On The..."

"I think I'll let Polgara deal with those two. She's calling her seminar "10 Ways You Show You are a Mary Sue."

"That's it, then. All we need are the students. Who's on pickup anyway?"

Miz' Iz laughed. "Oh, we sent someone that won't seem threatening at all, just to make the impact more impressive when they get here."

Professor Hebbes puzzled. "Relg? Hettar? Lelldorin couldn't get them back here on a bet."

"Oh, no, Hebbie. I sent the person the students don't know at all, but they all want to marry..."

He looked shocked. "Tiny, you didn't send..."

"Oh yes, Eriond is very anxious for this semester to start...."