A knock at the door found him sitting at his cedar writing desk, frowning in concentration. Silently, a rose spun slowly about its long axis above his outstretched hand. It trembled briefly at the sound, threatening to fall as his focus split to include the door, but he had no time for the irritation that flashed up during his practice session.
"Come in," Liam called, cursing absently as his focus disintegrated further. The rose was visibly shaking, and sweat began beading on his brow.
The door swung open and hit the wall with a bang and his concentration shattered completely, the rose falling into the waiting hand as he turned to face his guest.
He leaned heavily on a staff, each step accompanied by a fleeting flash of pain across his features. A long time ago he'd received an injury that had healed wrong, but he refused any suggestion to get it treated.
"Good day, Master," Liam bowed his head respectfully. "I was just practicing my focus."
"So I see." Jacob ambled over with painstaking slowness and plucked the rose from his apprentice's hand. "So who laid this outside your window?"
"I believe it was Ardalia this time." Liam pursed his lips and looked at the rose with speculation tinting his features. "Perhaps I should stop encouraging them. They hold no interest for me."
"A man your age should have a healthy appetite for women," Jacob mused, dropping the rose on my desk and moving instead to the window. His dark robes whispered against the floor, the same ones he always seemed to wear yet never soil. "It's a lovely day, today, and you've studied enough. Don't waste your youth as I did. Go out, and enjoy it. Perhaps you can court Ardalia."
"The end result of courting Ardalia I could get from a prostitute," the apprentice replied evenly, closing his workbook. Perhaps a bit too firmly for his cat's delicate sensibilities. Flare glared at him from the window where the remainder of the full, red roses sat. "And with far less emotional baggage. Lord and Lady know there's no shortage in town." Just as Master Jacob opened his mouth to admonish him Liam quickly cut in. "However, you are correct in that it is a nice day out. I believe I will follow your suggestion and enjoy the sunshine."
The student stood and collected several items that included his spell component pouch, a shoulder-slung bag for his workbook in case he chose to continue studying, and his herb-harvesting tools. If I'm going out, I may as well be prepared in case I find any Lady's Tear or one of the more poisonous herbs Kerist-Alshoon always had a high demand for.
"Liam, since you're going into town anyway…" Master Jacob knew damned well that he hadn't been intending to enter the port-city, but he was determined to dragoon his apprentice into doing what he wanted. "I need you to pick up a few things for me. Some of my stocks are running a little low. I can harvest some of what I need from the garden, but there are reagents that simply won't grow in the ground."
"What do you need, Master?"
"I've taken the liberty of preparing a list," he quirked his lips with amusement as he held out a folded piece of parchment. "You've enough spending money to purchase these items, I trust?"
Liam sighed inwardly and unfolded the parchment to skim through the list. He gave his Master the hairy eyeball when he'd mentally tallied up what he could realistically expect to get them for, but said nothing beyond grabbing his coin purse, which clinked noisily as he settled it into his shirt's inner pocket.
"If I don't have enough, I'll get you what I can, and you can limp into town and get what's left over yourself."
"Oh, by all means." Jacob smiled patiently, the expression nearly making his young face handsome. Were it not for his corpse-like pallor, that is. Though he looked to be in the region of sixteen, he hadn't aged a day in the six years Liam had been apprenticed to him, leading him to believe that Jacob could be much older than he.
Liam gathered a few more items which could be bartered for a bit of a discount – jars of prepared herbs, oils and creams – and grabbed Flare, preferring not to leave him behind whenever he went into town. He was a big tomcat, nearly thirty pounds of muscle that had once been fat.
The apprentice glanced around quickly, as though to determine if there was anything else. He then waved at his Master and started on left his abode on his way toward Kerist – the above-water part of the city.
Liam's rickety little three-room hut was situated a couple dozen meters away from Jacob's much larger two-story house, opposite the main road into the city and sunk into the ground about half its height. The depth had led Jacob to make several cracks about Liam being part dwarf.
The hut had been built by hand with the aid of some Liam's clients as a summer project last year in order to claim his own living space. It was a memory of accomplishment that made Liam swell with pride each time the thought crossed his mind.
In no small part had the decision for his own home been that he needed somewhere separate from his Master's in order to practice the herbalist's craft.
Jacob's property lay about a quarter kilometer north of the main thoroughfare and was ensconced in a wide clearing surrounded on all sides and hidden from the road by tall trees. A narrow dirt track not unlike a game trail led from the house to the road, and it was this Liam followed until he reached the highway and turned east, toward Kerist.
Small homes living outside the city were not exactly rare, but there weren't very many outside of the farmsteads that provided the city with its produce needs. Most such hermit-like homeowners were powerful wielders of magic and more than capable of repelling raiders and bandits seeking what was often perceived as easy pickings.
Jacob had alternate methods of repelling raiders, as opposed to simple brute force methods. The exterior of his home was decorated with a wide variety of illusory heads stuck on illusory poles, a concept he picked up from some stories Liam had shared regarding Vlad the Impaler.
Early on in his apprenticeship there'd been many raids a week, despite their relative nearness to the city, and each time Jacob had used the brute-force methods so common. Liam had asked why he didn't use psychology to scare them off, and when he showed interest was told a much abbreviated tale of Vlad Dracul.
The next day the illusory spikes appeared, and the next band of raiders went running for the hills as soon as they penetrated into the grove. Jacob rotated their exact features daily, resulting in what to the uninitiated would look like a mighty warrior or wizard killing hordes of bandits each day.
The surrounding dense forest of deciduous trees thinned with considerable speed as Liam neared the outer walls of Kerist, vanishing entirely into prairie about a mile away from the city. That area was rigorously pruned to keep it clear of concealing trees, though in truth the forest's area was very small, quite nearly a mere copse that overlapped the highway, for farther to the north and south the tree line curved back to the west.
As he approached the city Liam made a detached mental note about the low traffic, correlated it with what he'd witnessed over the past several years, and figured that land-based trade was in one of its dry seasons, when merchants await ships laden with goods from the northern climes of Kerek or from the eastern continent, whose name Liam had yet to learn.
"Oh, hello there Liam." One of the guards – a big man about six and a half feet tall – called the greeting, which the apprentice returned with a friendly smile. The guard's brown surcoat hid the mail all Kerist-Alshoon's guards were given save for at his wrists, and the golden shell that was the city's emblem gleamed from his left breast as though freshly polished.
Liam paused, nodding toward him amiably before letting my gaze drift toward the gate he watched over: Morris Gate. "Good day, Thomas. I gather from the traffic that we're going into the slow season, are we?"
"It's been this way for a few days now," Thomas shook his head. "I almost wish it were busier."
"I can well imagine," Liam grinned. "But at least you get to relax for the same wage, aye?"
"'Tis true, 'tis true. Go on in, my friend. But try to avoid the piers, aye? The cecaelia are in their season."
Liam paled and thanked him for the information, passing under the gate and heading on to his first destination in the Merchant's Quarter, which was thankfully quite distant from the pier.
"Liam!" A woman's voice made him pause his brisk walk, long enough for the young female to catch up and put her arm through his. "I'm glad you came into town. What are your plans today?"
"I'm running some errands for Master Jacob," Liam replied, giving her an appraising glance. It's convenient that she managed to snag onto me just as I passed through the gate. She stood a bit over five feet in height, with slightly angular eyes and vaguely pointed ears, all of which were courtesy of her elven mother. Her human father's gift was her solid physique.
Elf females tended towards lean and slender almost to a fault, and Liam considered Ardalia still far too slender to be healthy. It could have been the dress, though: pin-stripes didn't flatter anybody.
Still, she was pretty enough, and seemed to find him interesting…
Maybe I should take Jacob up on his advice. Having someone to slam in bed – even if she is female – would break up the tedium. Maybe I should ask Jacob about sex magic, and whether it's even been contemplated. I could use a spell guaranteed to stop an infection before it gets started, just in case. Pregnancy, too.
Ardalia kept up a steady stream of inane chatter as they strolled along to Liam's first destination: a reagent vendor by the name of Caradas. His store – shop, whatever – was a tidy affair, wares clearly marked and priced rather reasonably. He offered Liam a discount whenever he brought Caradas herbal ingredients for his reagents and…extracurricular activities.
The majority of Liam's herbalist and healing instruction at the hands of a lay-priest of Echeriel, the hermaphroditic god/dess of nature. Such instruction had of necessity included those naturally growing substances that possessed narcotic or hallucinogenic properties, which one might imbibe in the interests of experiencing said properties.
Caradas being such a one.
"Good day, Old Man," Liam greeted the shopkeeper as he stepped inside. His eyes adjusted slowly to the lesser illumination within, so it took a few moments to determine Caradas' shop was not entirely bereft of customers. The sole customer – a young, blond man wearing the voluminous robes common to arcanists – blinked owlishly before hurriedly thanking the old vendor and bustling off. Liam stepped aside to let the young man pass before moving up to speak with Caradas, digging into his satchel for the "brief" list Jacob had provided.
Strictly speaking Liam could probably get everything on the list at Caradas' – and he would – but since he'd forced his apprentice to come into town anyway, Liam could run some errands that would have proved problematic had he procrastinated as usual.
"New customer?" The apprentice jerked his head at the door to indicate the departed blond man.
"Aye," Caradas nodded, peering at Liam over his spectacles. A gnome, he sat behind the counter, atop a slightly concave disc covered in a variety of pelts that smelled of various spices. One whose eyes are keen would note the lack of a support for his seat. They'd also notice how unnaturally still his legs were, despite how he shifted. "In a manner o' speakin'. 'E's postin' notices all about. Somethin' about delvin' inta a keep summat. What kin Ah do fer ye?"
"Master Jacob's sent me into town for some things he requires for his experiments." Liam placed the list on the counter before the old man. "This is what he wants. I'm interested in arranging a trade between any of the desired items and some substances you indicated as low of stock when last I was in." Rummaging in his satchel for a moment, Liam pulled out six clay jars and four glass vials, all of which were carefully wrapped in cloth to protect them from the bumps and rattling of travel. Each was clearly labeled with its name in three different languages – Palax, Elven and Draconic – though he'd taken care not to include any of their potential uses. If one didn't know, one had no business purchasing them.
Caradas gave the young man a quick glance before scanning through Jacob's list. Items began to rise away from their places on display shelves and flew through the air to settle in a cluster beside Liam's wares, a sight which caused Ardalia to cling tighter to his arm. It was obvious she'd never been inside the shop of a wizard who regularly employed the use of magic in his day-to-day activities. I guess that since there aren't all that many mages in Kerist-Alshoon, there wouldn't really be all that many people out and about.
The old man took up a stick of charcoal and made little dashes next to the various objects on Jacob's list. "I'll trade ye bottle fer bottle," he said, indicating the two neat clusters. Liam did a quick count of both and found they were equal. A careful cross-checking with the list told him the ticks Caradas had made beside some of the items were what he was trading, leaving another four reagents that would have to be purchase from Liam's wallet
Better than a discount, in this case.
"The trade is equitable." Almost immediately after the words left his mouth, Liam's collection of vials leapt up and made their way to the back of the shop, where Caradas made his home. "As for the remaining items, do you have them in stock?"
"Aye, but they're rare." That was another way of saying they were expensive and out of Liam's price range.
"How much?" Liam asked, his stomach sinking.
"This'un," Caradas tapped the parchment. "tha couatl tears, they're kept in an extradimensional box."
Liam went cold and pale as he stared at the old gnome in dismay. Then down at the shopping list. Every item that Caradas kept on his shelves was under fifty shikas – the gold coins shaped like shells used as currency in this region – and he kept substances up to around five hundred shikas locked up tight in the back with who-knows-what kinds of arcane protections maintaining it. Anything above that he sealed in an extradimensional storage box.
"Liam?" Ardalia tugged on his arm, and Liam turned to see an image of Jacob standing several inches off the ground and a few feet away.
"Liam, don't concern yourself with continuing your apprenticeship until you bring me those reagents. Some are expensive, I know, but you'll persevere. Good luck."
Silence reigned as Liam glared at the spot where Jacob's image had vanished. Many emotions churned within him, not the least of which was an acute sense of betrayal. Liam had entered into Jacob's tutelage with the expectation that he would be taught until such point as he could be considered a competent wizard on his own, and here he was: cut free years away from that degree.
"That miserable little crippled son of a bitch!" Liam snarled, clenching his hands into fists as he reverted to English mid-sentence. "I should go back there and club him with his own walking stick!" He continued cursing for several seconds before Caradas' voice cut through his ranting.
"Are ye about through, lad?" Liam whirled on the gnome, fully intending to let loose at him. He did nothing as the human opened his mouth, but the words died without utterance as he sensed something about Caradas he hadn't before, power far beyond his tiny frame, power Liam yet only dreamed of.
"I…" Liam stopped, and cleared my throat. "I…yes. I'm sorry. I was about to bite at you without provocation." His eyes fell to the trade goods, though they seemed as worthless as ash right now. "Do you still offer the safety deposit service?"
"Aye, that Ah do, lad. Ye're wantin' ta put these away, then?" He indicated the reagents Jacob wanted.
"Yes, that would be preferred." Liam groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as a reaction headache to his earlier furor made a few tentative thumps of pain. "How much is it per month?"
"Forty shikas, though you get a percentage of the remaining time back if you retrieve it early."
He ran his fingers through his hair, disheveling several locks from the tail Liam had tied it into.
"You saw what just happened." Liam motioned at the spot where Jacob had projected his illusion. "Can't you give me a little bit of a break, just this once? I'm willing to give up the percentage-back in favor of a cut on the rent."
Caradas grumbled for a few moments before nodding sharply. "Thirty shikas, an' tha storage ain't extradimensional. No percentage back fer early retrieval."
"That's more than acceptable, thank you." Liam bowed, then retrieved the list as he stood. The remaining four items seemed almost to mock him: black pearl powder, platinum dust, shell of dragon's egg.
The wizard's apprentice pulled out his workbook and slipped the list just under the front cover. He then counted out sixty shikas and handed them to Caradas and watched as he began casting, tracing out the shape of a cube, about one foot on a side. As his casting reached its peak a wan blue glow formed between his hands, coalescing into a barely visible field of energy.
"Go ahead, touch it." Caradas set it down on the counter beside my goods. Liam poked it, then pressed down on it with his full weight. It didn't budge, and it felt like a perfectly smooth and flat surface. A sledgehammer rose from behind the counter and offered itself to the human. The old gnome watched as Liam accepted it, and the box rose from the counter and settled on the floor in the middle of the store. The disc-shaped seat Caradas sat upon rose as he turned to face the box.
"I take it I'm supposed to try and break it open with this?"
"If ye can, lad, Ah'll keep yer things fer as long as ye need, free o'charge, and yer shikas'll be refunded."
"Good incentive." Liam hefted the hammer, then brought it down on the box with all his might.
Liam yelped as the jolt of impact ran up his arms and numbed his fingertips, making him yelp and drop the hammer. He scowled at the sound of the hammer clattering to the ground while trying to rub sensation back into his hands. Both hammer and box rose and returned to their original places, and Caradas slowly sank back down.
"This 'ere box locks wi' a verbal password." Caradas put a hand on the box and whispered something. The top panel lifted up and swung away, as though on a hinge on one side. "Ah'll tell ye tha password after she steps outside," he jutted his chin at Ardalia. She took the hint and walked to the door, silent. "Good. Remember this, lad: erakaliakkus. Try it." He shut the lid on the box. "Jus' put yer hand on it an' say tha password."
Liam did as instructed, but it took him several tries to get the word exactly right. Inflection seemed to be just as important as enunciation.
He put the vials and jars he'd traded for into the box, closed the lid, and then tried to pry it open. Liam couldn't even find a seam.
"That's a very nice spell." Liam nodded appreciatively. "I imagine that it's not a permanent effect, though?"
"Nay, 'tis jus' long-lastin'." Caradas grinned suddenly. "If'n ever ye achieve tha skill necessary, Ah'll teach ye tha spell, fer bein' such a good customer."
The apprentice smiled and nodded respectfully. "I look forward to that. You said your last customer was looking for help on a trip somewhere. Did he mention where he was going next?"
Caradas shook his head. "He didna mention anythin' specific, but Ah did suggest tha' he try in a tavern 'r two."
"They do normally have help-wanted boards," Liam mused. "And that is a good idea. Please, have a good day, and thank you again."
"See ya soon, lad."
Ardalia and Liam left the shop and made our way towards the nearest tavern. Maybe I can find someone in need of a healer.
The young woman companion pulled Liam up short before long, frowning as she struggled to find the right words.
"Was…is there something wrong with his legs?" She looked as though worried she might give offence.
"Not anymore," Liam shook my head, recalling that he'd asked Jacob the exact same thing a few years back. "He had to get them amputated in order to stop a particularly pernicious disease. There's nothing below about here on him." The apprentice made a cutting motion across his thighs, about three inches below his groin. "What you saw was an illusion to keep customers from being uncomfortable."
"That's awful!" Ardalia gasped, heaving her bosom with the breath. Was that meant to be enticing? "Why has he not chosen to have them regenerated?"
"I'm not sure. I think the disease might have been magical, and by the time the residual energies were eliminated it was probably too late. I've never discussed it with him, as it's personal and therefore not my business."
"You've an interesting sense of discretion," Ardalia murmured. Liam's jaw tightened.
"Can we go? I have a frightfully large and sudden debt to pay off."
"Oh! Yes, of course. How silly of me when you've much to do. Is there any way in which I can help?"
Liam didn't immediately respond, instead mulling the question over. Was there anything she could do? He doubted she or her family had several thousand shikas lying about and just begging to be used to assist her current crush.
Or if they do, I doubted her family would be willing to part with it.
Immediately Liam chastised himself: though pragmatic, even the mere thought was unbecoming of a man.
As to less direct assistance, Liam wracked his brains yet could find nothing she might be able to provide that he could not himself. Liam could survive quite comfortably in his little hovel, and it served as both home and workplace. He also wasn't far enough from the city that he couldn't find some other job within its walls to finance his studies.
"Maybe David will know something," he murmured, glancing at the sun. Unless his shift has been changed dramatically in the time since my last visit, I'll find him working. "Come on, I've an idea."
The tavern David worked at was down near the wharf, and was commonly frequented by sailors – the rough and tumble sort – all eagerly looking for a drink or a fight or both.
Fortunately, it was the "dry" season while the cecaelia mated, so there were only a few customers. That and it was near noon, so anyone here probably had good reason to be left to their drink.
"Would David be in?" Liam asked a serving maid, a plain brunette wearing a dark brown linen skirt designed to reveal a hint of leg and catch the eye. Perhaps long-denied sailors were known to pay more if their drinks were accompanied by a bit of eye-candy.
"Oh, are ye a friend of his?"
"Yes, an old friend of his." The apprentice smiled in what was my best approximation of a friendly manner and motioned at a table. "May we sit down? My name's Liam. He'll know me."
"Yes, of course, please have a seat anywhere ye like. I'll let him know ye're in right away."
"Thank you." Liam maneuvered Ardalia over to a less populated corner and silenced his suddenly queasy stomach. He hadn't seen David in quite a long time. By the Trine and the Horned, I haven't seen him in nearly a year! The only contact they'd had with one another was in the form of messengers, their schedules too conflicted to make visits economical.
The serving maid brought out a couple earthenware tankards of ale, saying only "Compliments of the cook."
Liam looked at his and stifled a sigh. His first few experiences with ale had been less than encouraging. He had neither stomach nor head for the stuff, and his preference ran more for sweeter drinks. Ale was far too bitter a drink.
However, in the interests of politeness he raised it to his lips and took a polite sip, tensing in expectation of the bitterness. Surprise took him as he found the beverage to be more akin to fruit punch, though he could still detect just a hint of the sharp flavor of alcohol.
"This is quite good," Liam commented, taking a deeper gulp and setting the tankard off to the side. It would not do to become overly inebriated before the sun had even reached its zenith.
"I'm not too fond of sweets," Ardalia admitted, pushing hers to the side with only the barest of tastes taken.
Before she could utter another blasphemous word the door leading to the kitchen exploded into the dining area ahead of a column of flame. It embedded itself halfway through the street-facing wall like a huge, rectangular shuriken.
Ardalia shrieked as bits of flaming timbers rained down on us and our still drinks. Her voice rose several octaves as hordes of cackling and gibbering imps poured from the still-smoldering door-frame. A tall figure with impossibly large, black horns and incredible definition stepped through the door. Its flesh was ruby red and glistened as though wet.
"I have come for your souls!" It growled, its voice and tone promising agony eternal.
"That's nice," Liam replied. He took a sip of his drink. "How are you, David?"
"Who is this 'David'?" the red-skinned creature asked.
"You are," Liam said simply. "You may want to think about vibrations next time. That explosion and the door striking the wall? Both should have caused the building to shudder."
"Aww, you're no fun," the demon complained, melting back into the form of Liam's oldest friend. On Earth – before the Planeswalk Event that marooned them – he'd been a touch on the heavier side, but in his time here his fat had receded into muscle. While he'd never have much in the way of definition, he was built like a brick shithouse.
The hellish horde and structural damage faded to reveal nothing unusual about the tavern, but the girl who'd brought us our drinks had collapsed in laughter.
"Even she thinks you were a little over the top." Liam pointed at the maid.
"Miriam, stop that!" David snapped, though without any real bite. She just laughed harder. David growled, but turned away. "What brings my dear friend Liam – absent a year – to my humble establishment?"
"'Your' tavern?" The apprentice wizard asked, a little taken aback. "When did this happen?"
"The original owner willed it to me shortly before he died of anaphylactic shock." The last two words were spoken in English, as Palax contained no analogous term.
"Ah." Liam chose not to press. "Anyway, I need your help. Jacob has put my training on hold until I get him a few criminally expensive reagents. It was suggested that I find a 'help wanted' ad and try my hand at it. It was suggest that it is or can be good money."
"Yes, it can be," David murmured, toying with a prism-shaped piece of obsidian. "Adventuring can be incredibly lucrative. It's also exceptionally dangerous. I tried my hand at it a few months ago."
"What'd you do?"
"Just a bounty hunt. Some halfling thief stole Lady Ysana's navel ring."
"I heard about that," Ardalia chirped. "It was scandalous! Her own Aunt wearing body piercings!"
"Did you get it back?" Liam filed away Ardalia's comment for later. If she doesn't like body modifications then she sure as shit won't like me sans clothing.
"Yup," David snorted. "The thief took it to the crypt of Boris Redhands. It was the key to some treasure or other that Boris had spent his life gathering, reputedly rescued from dragons' hoards alone. There wasn't much: just a double-handful of coins and some rotting furniture." He snorted again. "Useless junk. But anyway, why would you ask me?"
"I just thought that people would post ads in places where there's high traffic, such as your tavern here."
"We do get the occasional request to post a notice." Liam's friend stared at the obsidian prism for a few moments before turning to stare at the entrance. Liam followed his gaze to find the young, blond man from Caradas' shop letting his eyes adjust to the slightly gloomy tavern.
"Speak of the devil," Liam murmured in English. Reverting to Palax he said, "Good day, sir! I recall seeing you in the store of one Caradas, gnomish entrepreneur." Ardalia's stunned stare burned into the side of his head as Liam completely changed in attitude from his normally reserved and subdued behavior. Today she'd seen more emotion in him than in the past two years of flirting.
"Y-yes?" The blond man was taken aback by Liam's sudden outburst.
"I heard that you're looking for help with some task or another. Might I know what sort of aid you seek?"
For a few moments he stared at me, but then burst out with a brief guffaw of relief. "By the stars, I've yet to even post a notice and already I've some interest. I'm in need of some few who are willing to join me on an expedition to a ruined wizard's tower. Equal shares of any coin found."
"What of the dangers?" David asked, pointedly. "Any wizard's tower is sure to have defensive enchantments."
"Any venture is fraught with danger, my friend," the young man replied, gaining confidence as he gained momentum. "At any rate, the wizard in question is supposed to have been overly proud, and died of his hubris, leading me to think that his wealth is largely untouched."
"And if it isn't?"
"Then we would deal with it when the time comes." Liam cut in, feeling his blood begin to heat. I doubt I'll acquire the thousands of shikas necessary from this single venture, it should – I hope – get me started. "Beginning with observation, as all science requires."
David raised his eyebrows as he looked at his friend. "Isn't that supposed to be 'hypothesis'?"
Liam waved the comment away. "Never mind. You know what I mean."
"Can I count on your assistance?" the young man asked.
Liam's eyes unfocused as he thought about it. Then, "Yes. Everyone has to start somewhere. My name's Liam Faren. And yours is…?"
"Oh, how thoughtless of me. I'm Corian." Liam's eyebrows twitched as he noted the lack of a surname, but didn't react otherwise. He wasn't sure what it signified, whether shame or dishonor.
"A pleasure to meet you." They shook hands, then turned as one to look at David when he cleared his throat.
"I'll be joining your expedition." Liam threw him a puzzled look, and David answered in English, "What sort of friend would I be if I didn't lend a hand to one in need?"
The barmaid rushed up and slammed her hands on the table. "No! Ye aren't to vanish again!"
"Pardon?" David asked, darkly. Liam thought, "Again"?
"Ye're the only one who can make heads or tails of those recipes, Vixni. And ye'll be gone how long? How'm I supposed to get my wages, hmm? Trying to bugger off without paying me again?"
"If I give you the next month's wages now will you stop fussing?" That made Miriam pause for a long moment.
"There's still the matter of those recipes!"
"Then we'll close down until evening and you can transcribe what I dictate so that they're no longer exclusive to my comprehension. Is that fair?"
"My dear, sweet man," Miriam changed tactics immediately as she sidled up to David. "I have a little request for ye." The table blocked Liam's view, but in the next moment David dropped with a squeak, clutching his crotch. "Don't ye ever patronize me again, lout! When ye come back from this venture ye'd better be bringing a ring!" She flounced off into the back, and left David to recover his dignity.
"Lovely woman," he gasped, hauling himself upright. His face was rather pale, though Liam couldn't determine whether from having to face Miriam later or from the damage she'd just done. "I'll need a day or so to prepare. Is that acceptable, Corian?"
"I can wait a few more days than that, if necessary," the young man replied. "And I'll need time to gather a few more brave souls. Shall we say…two days hence, second hour past dawn at the Morris Gate?"
"That's fine with me." Liam nodded, mentally listing what he figured he might need. David concurred, and Corian left with a quick farewell. The cook friend excused himself to go begin his preparations with Miriam at his side, leaving only Ardalia and Liam.
"So you're going to be adventuring to pay off Jacob," she said, voice neutral.
Liam nodded as he took a sip of his drink, but hurriedly pushed it away as its full, true flavor had come into being. Apparently David had been disguising the flavor. "Theoretically I could pay him off simply by plying my trade. There's always a need for herbalists and healers. But that would take a lot more time than I'm willing to spare. This could be dangerous, but if we're careful and intelligent about it then that danger should be mitigated."
"But you could still die!" Ardalia burst out.
"Everybody dies sometime." Liam looked down at the table briefly, the tips of his ears slightly red. He then turned to look Ardalia in the eye for the first time that day. "And if I die on this venture, then it will be a little earlier than expected. Now if you'll excuse me, I need time to plan."
Liam slipped out from the table and was out the door before she could even muster a response.
It took Corian only a day to find two more companions, and then they were off on the eight-day trip to Fairhill. Four days later…
The rain pouring through the canopy was directed by the foliage into thick columns of water. Only by the grace of the gods had they found perhaps the only spot for miles sheltered enough to build a fire. Even in so typically hot a climate as the Kerist region and despite the environmental equilibrium spell Liam had maintained almost continually since learning to cast it, he still had trouble shaking the chill.
You'd think I'd learn to expect the cold after six years. Liam thought forlornly, pulling his borrowed canvas tarp tighter around his shoulders. It was a poor substitute for a cloak against the chill, but served to keep the rain off.
"You awake?"
The question came from the young man who'd decided to share the first watch with Liam: Alan. A slender lad of sixteen or so, he stared at the apprentice from a face gradually being washed clean of months of dirt and grime by the rain he willingly sat under, revealing flesh smoothed by its perpetual mud bath. He disdained to approach the fire, always cautious to avoid looking at it. His clothing consisted of a ragged linen shirt and pants sized for someone twice his size, cinched tight with a rope.
"Yeah, still." Liam replied, running a hand through his hair. It was still plastered to his skull. Flare was sending waves of hostility at his master through their bond as he huddled behind Liam, under the tarp. At least he's stopped yowling. "Not that I was expecting all excitement or anything, but this? This is bullshit."
"I hear you," Alan replied, his voice always quiet, always even. His eyes darted to the side. "Do you hear?"
Liam followed his gaze, but for a time only heard the constant downpour. Then he caught a faint sound not unlike a mosquito. Alan had been watching his co-sentry's as he listened, and grunted when he saw Liam's face shift.
"What is that?" Liam asked in dismay. The sounds were coming from too far away to be mosquitoes.
"Stirges. Sounds like three."
"Are they dangerous?"
"They drink blood, and are as big as your cat."
"Dangerous, then." Liam confirmed, but blinked when Alan shook his head.
"Fun," he countered with a grin, holding up his hands. His fingers lengthened and grew sharp, like knives. "You good in a fight?"
"I don't know." Liam admitted, reaching into one of the belt pouches he used to store spell components. He pulled out a small handful of sand. "I've a trick or two."
They waited as the others slumbered on, and the stirges drew steadily closer. Liam couldn't say why they didn't wake the others, but perhaps Alan's self-confidence had something to do with his abandoned sanity.
They came suddenly, darting through the rainy columns like crosses between noisy bats and oversized mosquitoes. It wasn't quite true that they were as big as Flare: they were – in fact – slightly larger.
The first made a beeline for Alan, but his first swipes tore through its belly and mangled several legs before it even snagged him with a single foot, but when it did it brought the remaining two into action and gripped him with surprising force.
The next circled around and tried to sneak up on Alan, but though his one hand was occupied with trying to pry off the first stirge he was still able to use his free hand to slice off one of the second's wings. It, too, managed to snag Alan and plunged its proboscis into his shoulder.
The third was almost upon Liam before he managed to give voice and movement to the spell of slumber. The stirge – sole target of a spell designed to enchant four times as many if not more – fell asleep in mid-flight and tumbled to a halt in his arms, though I dropped it and sprang back when one of its legs tried to snag his shirt. Flare was on it in a flash, savagely ripping it apart with bloodthirsty glee Liam could sense through their bond.
The two stirges attached to Alan began to swell with blood, but fell into shreds when he became a whirling dervish of claws and teeth. When he stopped and the stirges were dead, Liam saw that his posture had become hunchbacked and his jaws had elongated into a lupine-like grin. He glanced at Liam from the corner of his eye and turned away, his hands returning to normal.
The wizard approached carefully as he plucked bits of stirge off his body and used the rain-waterfalls to rinse off his own blood.
He flinched as Liam laid a hand on his hunched shoulder, but didn't move away. Liam checked the injuries he'd taken from the stirges. It looked like he'd been stabbed with plastic straws, the kind used for slushies.
"We need to bind your wounds, else they'll become infected. That'd be a bad thing."
"No! No bindings, no wrappings!" Alan jumped away from the wizard and crouched in the mud, like a wild animal.
What happened to you? Liam wondered, crouching himself. This served to make him seem smaller and less aggressive. "That's fine, then. I won't wrap anything around you." He showed Alan his hands so the teenager could see he held nothing. "But your wounds still need to be cared for. I can do that another way, though it's not my first preference. All I need is to be able to touch them." Gods, that sounds creepy.
"You won't bind me?" He asked, somewhat plaintively.
"That's right," Liam soothed. "I know a spell of healing, but to use it I need to touch you. Will that be alright?"
Alan circled around as he considered, more on all fours. He'd almost circled Liam completely before moving closer and waiting patiently just within reach.
"Not here. I need my workbook for this, and I'll need the fire for its light."
He stiffened, but otherwise said nothing as he followed Liam back toward the fire, pointedly squatting with his back to the flames. This suited Liam just fine as he rummaged through my satchel and pulled out his workbook. He flipped to the relevant page and perused its contents, repeating the prayer and mental exercises to himself over and over again to ascertain his familiarity. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd used the spell over the years.
Once certain he could work through the spell without faltering Liam took out his necklace, from which hung a simple silver pentacle. He whispered the incantation to it – more prayer than formula – and watched as it began to glow a soft blue. The spell filled his mind as warmth gathered in his hand, the same blue light as lit his pentacle gathering in his palm.
As his chanting drew to a close Liam laid that hand on Alan's back, ignoring the sudden stiffening and resulting wince as his wounds sent fiery needles of agony into the surrounding flesh. He could almost see in his mind the red of Alan's pain, like the rays of a particularly angry sun. It was into this that he channeled the energies he'd been gathering, drawing them forth from the plane of living force in a gentle flow, formed with the simple intent to heal.
Such spells didn't actually heal per se. What they did was give the body an enormous surge of energy, and the intent woven into that energy gave it the sole purpose of rejuvenating at truly superhuman speeds, giving the appearance of an injury seeming to flash into nothingness. In some cases Liam had heard of, it actually provided some of the mass necessary for more serious injuries.
Case in point, as Liam completed the spell blue-white light flashed briefly beneath the palm touching Alan's back, before moving to coalesce in his wounds. His flesh knit together in less time than it would've taken Liam to blink, and the glow that had suffused it dissipated into the rest of his body, presumably to take care of any other ills he might have suffered.
"Thank you," Alan murmured, shifting his shoulder to test the results. "You are thorough."
"'An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.'" Liam quoted, voice quiet as he examined his handiwork with a critical eye and gentle, probing fingers. The injuries had healed completely, in and out. Excellent. "Who's got the next watch?"
"That would be me," a woman's voice stated calmly. Alan and Liam turned as one to stare into the glittering eyes of Tsuyarra Il-Na'Tani, which roughly translated from Elven to "of the rain." She stared back at them from beneath an oiled cloak, hands folded inside robes whose orange and red made me think of oak trees in autumn. "If you seek to continue your flirtations, please do so quietly."
Liam jerked his fingers from Alan's back – where he'd been yet to remove them – as though burned.
"That's unnecessary." The wizard replied dryly. Tsuyarra had somehow divined his primary orientation the first moment she'd laid eyes on him outside the Morris Gate of Kerist-Alshoon, where Corian had introduced the party to one another. To date she'd somehow managed to give voice to insinuation after venomous insinuation every time she opened her mouth. She could've given drag queens lessons in backhanded compliments. Liam glanced at Alan and switched from Palax to Milava: the elves' language. "One also finds another's continuing barbs to be ongoing disrespect, and one wonders if another is truly an elf."
Tsuyarra smiled beatifically, and replied in kind. "One considers another unworthy to be here. One hopes another will return home soon. You are not welcome." The last was spoken in Palax.
"One will when one no longer has to rely on another's bumbling." Liam grumbled, a vague reference to the fact that all the mages involved in the attempt to rebuild the planar bridge from this world to Earth had failed, and often messily. All known attempts had stopped years ago.
Liam resolutely wrapped himself in his tarp, back to the fire and Flare stalking in to claim the territory my chest and belly could have had. Stones and roots dug into his flesh all up his side, but Liam stubbornly refused to shift.
It took less than a minute of such discomfort before he resolved to buy a pallet much as Tsuyarra used.
They broke camp at about ten in the morning, a decision made after the others heard Tsuyarra's report on what had occurred the previous night.
Still, it granted Liam the time necessary to recoup the energies he'd expended.
"Ah, much better." Liam sighed in relief as the spell designed to keep his body cool in a nearly tropical climate came into effect. The spell only lasted a day. If only there were a method by which I can ensure its permanency…
"What's better?" Corian asked, looking at Liam curiously.
"Didn't you hear?" Liam cocked his head as he replied. "The Incantation of Temperate Regulation?"
Corian shook his head. "You have an odd accent that makes your words difficult to comprehend, and you speak very quickly."
"You sure know how to make a guy feel special." Liam muttered, tucking my workbook away. David, Tsuyarra and Alan were dancing to get on their way…after a fashion. David stood tapping his foot, Tsuyarra held herself in such utter stillness she couldn't be anything but impatient, and Alan wandered about, poking at things as if he'd never seen them before.
"Are you about ready?" David asked in too light a voice. "Perhaps you need a few more minutes to coif your hair?"
"No coffee this morning?" Liam retorted, wincing as a few kinks reacted poorly to his stretching. Flare hissed his resentment as he inadvertently shared his aches through their link.
"They've yet to discover it." David growled as they set off. "As well live in caves."
The rain had petered off through the night, and as the party walked the sky cleared and the sun shone down brightly. The night's dampness quickly evaporated and with it any trace of dismal attitude. So what if the road was little more than a muddy morass? They were more or less dry, and Liam had more than enough salve to treat foot-rot.
Not long after noon Alan loped off-road with no more than a murmured "wait", to return with an armful of oranges. When Tsuyarra questioned him about their owners, he shrugged and simply said, "Wild."
The fruits were a delicious snack that held the group through the afternoon until dusk, when David felled a deer-like animal locally known as a veshk. Together with some roots he gathered and the zest from all the orange peels he'd taken before the group could toss them, he made a nice little stir-fry.
"You are most resourceful, Master David," Corian commented after polishing off his second plate. His words were directed at the kit David had tucked into his pack.
As the cook cleaned his utensils he shrugged noncommittally, casually responding "It's nothing. I figure somebody should be prepared."
Liam bristled at the remark, but said nothing.
There's no need to take offence at every little comment. Liam admonished silently, opening his workbook to review the formula for a spell he'd been working on for the last couple weeks. It was nothing fancy: just a minor cantrip to help with personal grooming. I can't believe I still can't use these peoples' excuse of a razor without cutting myself!
He was close to perfecting the final sequence.
"Could everyone gather near?" Corian asked gently.
The wizard's knuckles whitened momentarily. What now?
With an effort he closed his workbook without slamming it, carefully smoothed any trace of frustration from his features and faced the young sorcerer with as much outward calm as he could muster.
"The raging fire hears naught but its own flames," Tsuyarra murmured quietly, arranging her robes as she sat beside the wizard.
"The incautious dove disturbs a cat," Liam muttered back. Flare sneezed, then continued cleaning his claws of the remnants of an unfortunate rat.
Corian glanced at Liam and Tsuyarra, a clear indication that he had heard their exchange but he possessed greater mastery over his features than the wizard. Perhaps there's something in my posture that gives away my emotions.
When neither of them said anything, the sorcerer nodded curtly and began to speak. "I am grateful for your patience with my silence on the details of this venture. I had to be certain we were far enough from possible prying eyes and ears." He took a breath. "Not long ago I learned of a wizard named Fluvian Tanis. He sought the immortality of lichdom, but an old friend of his I spoke with mentioned that Tanis had nowhere near the arcane strength necessary to commit to such a transformation."
"So what makes you think that Fluvian is dead?" David asked. "We wouldn't be halfway to Fairhill by now if you believed him to be alive."
Corian nodded and answered "That old friend of his I mentioned hasn't heard from Fluvian in twenty years, and they've been friends since childhood. I can't believe they would simply suddenly stop communicating with one another. Since Erik – his friend – believes Tanis didn't have the strength to complete the rite, and a letter from Tanis indicates he was about to go through with it regardless, I believe Fluvian Tanis attempted and failed the rite, and in so doing has died."
"If he was about to go through with this ritual, what makes you think he'd leave his home unprotected?" Liam asked.
"I don't," Corian replied dryly, reaching into his tunic. "However, since Tanis and Erik were good friends Tanis sent this amulet in the event that his friend should want to visit. Erik has always been somewhat…forgetful. At least he has for as long as I've known him. Anyway, this amulet is supposed to be able to allow Erik into the keep where Tanis made his home."
Suddenly Alan leapt to his feet, staring at the largest raven any of them had ever seen. Its eyes glowed with hellish red light, but no sooner had all our attention focused on it than it launched itself into the gathering dusk.
Corian's hands moved furiously through the movements of a spell, its verbal component swallowed by the clamor as the party leapt up with a shout. A sparkling sphere leapt from his finger, trailing silver in its wake like a comet as it streaked through the night. It crashed into the raven, both illuminating and momentarily knocking the bird off course before it escaped into shadows.
The sorcerer spat a curse. "That was Talon. I was hoping we'd gotten far enough away, but I guess I was wrong. He's the familiar of Kashya, Erik's apprentice. I was afraid they were too interested in this expedition."
"Why not take her along?" Alan asked.
"Because she's treacherous, and I don't feel safe in her presence," Corian replied in a soft voice. "Can I recommend we travel through the night?"
"Is that what Kashya would expect you to do?" The sorcerer looked at Liam sharply. The wizard spread his hands and shrugged. "It's smarter to sleep without a fire tonight, and stay farther back from the road. A hunter can pull down prey that is weak and tired more easily than that which is rested."
"But she knows where we are!" Corian protested. Liam disagreed.
"She knows where we were when her raven found us. And unless I miss my guess she'd be at as much of a disadvantage as us."
The wizard's arguments was logical, and the sorcerer changed tactics. "I thought you were a wizard. Where would you have picked up lore like that?"
Liam smiled without humor. "I am nothing if not my father's son; I have many skills."
Corian grunted and turned away as David groaned.
"You did not just quote Xena," he muttered flatly in English. "I refuse to believe that."
"Believe what you wish," Liam replied in kind, smirking. His grin evaporated quickly, though.
Life and death situations were usually avoided at all costs on Earth. Peaceful life with only a one-in-a-hundred chance of getting mugged, and almost none of dying. Here, a shouting match could end with someone's guts spilling into the street. And they had to be careful with this Kashya character. Though Liam didn't know her personality, but he could readily imagine her readying an ambush in order to steal whatever knowledge she could glean out from under Corian's nose.
These people never seemed to understand the concept of sharing after passing through adolescence.
And I've yet to learn not to pass judgment. Sigh. Liam's thoughts turned away from the matter at hand and back to his grooming spell. I'll deal with what comes when it comes.
There was no attack that night – though they all were jumpy and slept poorly – nor did any attack come during the next two days.
About the only event of note was when Liam finished the grooming spell, and caused six and a half years of rough-trimmed beard to part from his face.
Near sunset of the sixth day of travel they saw a small farmstead. Storm clouds gathered to the east, threatening a heavy downpour. The farm was perhaps another half-hour's walk, and the party discussed decisions as they marched.
"Perhaps we can beg shelter there for tonight," David suggested. Liam sensed a wave of agreement from Flare as the bipedal folk agreed without reservation.
"Let's hurry, then." Corian looked behind, toward the sky. "I'd like to be dry through this next storm."
As they drew closer they gradually realized there was something very wrong. Perhaps it was the lack of any voices. Or maybe the animals milling about, free of their pens.
Then again, it was in all likelihood the half-eaten corpse of a youngish man lying before the front door. From the way he was positioned it looked like he'd been cut down, defending his family.
Through the door Liam could see the bodies of a young woman and two children; the younger boy of which had been completely disemboweled.
The group approached in somber silence, spreading out to search the scene for evidence of what had happened.
Alan and Tsuyarra checked the yard, the young man flexing his hands into claws with a disturbing casualness.
David and Corian went right into the house, leaving Liam with the bodies of the farmer, his wife and his children. Flare sniffed daintily around the bodies as the wizard gave each an examination, maintaining a silent litany of thanks to his instructor – Aidan Vigoth, the lay-priest of Echeriel who'd taught herb lore and mundane healing – had also included some basic autopsy education.
The father had lost his arm before dying – lots of blood spray all over the place – cause of death a long, curved blade – probably belonging to an axe – lodging itself in his ribcage, splitting his heart in two. The woman had taken a sword to the gut, bleeding out slowly before they cut her throat.
The two children were a different matter. Both had puncture wounds that oozed a clear, viscous substance when Liam pressed down to either side of the injuries. The amount of blood on the ground testified that they'd died from slashed throats, but there were no defensive wounds or any other signs of struggle…almost like they had simply dropped and someone had bled them out.
It was around these that Flare paced restlessly, radiating apprehension so strongly it was a wonder no one else could sense it.
"I wish I could speak with you," Liam muttered, scratching his familiar's head. He ducked away before long as the wizard's trembling fingers irritated him. Taking a deep breath Liam turned his attention back to the problem at hand. He touched the pad of a little finger to the ooze and almost immediately found it difficult to feel the tip. "A toxin with a desensitizing component…interesting." Liam glanced at the corpse it'd come from. "Maybe a paralytic?"
With quick movements he harvested as much of the poison as he could, storing it in a glass vial spelled to keep its contents from spoiling – a gift from Jacob last year. Once it was safely stowed away for later analysis he glanced up to see how Tsuyarra and Alan were faring. They'd found another body belonging to a little girl who appeared to be the youngest of the three children, but when they brought her over a quick exam gave no indication of the toxin: she'd died of weapons alone.
"What happened here?" Tsuyarra asked, horror draining the color from her face.
"I doubt these people could have annoyed anyone enough to bring this result," Liam replied, focusing all his attention on the elf and trying to ignore the bodies he could still see in his peripheral vision. It was a struggle to freeze his emotions. If he started freaking out at this point he'd have but one course to swiftly get a handle on his self. Have to think of something else. "Are there bandits in the region?"
Tsuyarra jerked her gaze away from the bodies, locked her eyes on mine. Something in her gaze seemed somehow young. Almost innocent.
"How old are you?" Liam's words were soft, his focus entirely on her and not on the eerie and unreasonable sensation that he had to be standing knee deep in blood.
"One has seen one hundred-seventeen passes under the constellation of Inigami," the elf replied in her native language, barely blinking.
Little more than a teenager by elven standards, Liam realized. Some of her earlier behavior became clearer, her snarkiness not that of someone intending to be a miserable cunt but rather of someone who's yet to achieve maturity. We have more in common than I realized.
"One believes another should come away from the door so that the atrocities committed don't weigh upon another's mind with their presence."
Tsuyarra started, then shook herself and glared at Liam with all the gravity a terrified little girl could muster.
"I am an Initiate of the Order of Pa-Deinis Thra, third granddaughter of the Holy Grandmaster and I do not flee before horror." Despite her words her face remained pale and tight, and her voice quavered a little. She glanced down quickly before returning her gaze to Liam's. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "No matter how great. How are you so calm?"
Liam throttled down hysterical laughter even as it bubbled in his chest. "I look calm? I'm about to shatter. The only thing keeping me together is the Crone's Litany."
Tsuyarra looked uncertain and less than comfortable as she asked "I'm not familiar with that chant, but does it not involve a prayer to monsters?"
"Not the one I know. It's part of a Goddess invocation cycle." Liam took a breath began to recite. "'Northern wind blow cruel, blow cold; sheathe my aching heart in ice. All around my soul enfold, Crone I need not call you twice. To my foes bring cold of death! Shield me, north wind's frozen breath.'"
"I believe it would be to my benefit to hear the entire cycle, at a more appropriate time."
Corian and David had returned from their search of the house down during my recitation, and spread their hands helplessly.
"There are no other bodies," Corian announced, heading towards the front door.
"And this wasn't a robbery," David added. At his words Liam invoked a protective spell to create defensive planes of force about his body. Flare's nearness ensured he received the same protections. "There was no search of the house, nor were any goods stolen. They were killed for no apparent reason."
"All the more reason for us to leave," Corian replied, stepping outside. Almost immediately his body jerked as several scarlet bolts of energy slammed into him, the impact throwing him backward into the house just as a pair of arrows struck just where his chest had been.
"Shut the door!" David roared, performing the task himself with little care for how the closing door affected Corian. The young man lay on the ground with wide and unseeing eyes, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
Liam knelt quickly and rushed through a healing incantation, the words tumbling out in a confusing rush. Blue-white light flared up beneath hands pressed to Corian's face, and his flesh knit together, halting his descent into the darkness of death.
"What was that?" David demanded.
"Looked like a spell of arcane force-bolts." Liam answered, helping the sorcerer to stand. Fishing around in his bag Liam pulled out a couple rolled up scrolls. He handed one to Corian and kept the other. The sorcerer looked at his brother arcanist oddly.
"What is this?"
"Protection against the spell that nearly killed you. It only lasts for a minute, so wait until you face whomever cast it at you before you use it, please."
Before Corian could respond part of a ghastly grey sigil appeared on the ground, tremors spreading beneath our feet.
"What was that?!" Tsuyarra demanded when the quaking stopped and the sigil vanished, her eyes widened to reveal white all around. Alan had put a hand against the wall to steady himself but otherwise seemed unperturbed. Corian and Liam stared down at the floor with more than a little curiosity. Even obscured like this I should at least recognize portions…but I've never seen anything like it.
David, however, cursed and spat on the floor. When the others' eyes fell upon him he snarled, "It's a necromantic glyph. Someone's about to make the dead rise."
Figures: Jacob just glossed over that particular school. What little Liam knew he'd cobbled together on his own and could fit in a thimble.
The symbol's lines flared brightly before vanishing, and the trembling ceased.
After a moment Alan asked "Is that it?"
Then a skeletal arm shot up through the floor, scattering bits of wood all about. It was followed by a second carrying a club that seemed to have been made from a fused spine. Together they levered a full skeleton out from the ground, just as another skeleton wielding a pair of ribs fashioned into daggers made its appearance just inside the wall. Outside I heard three more clawing their way out of makeshift graves, the sounds seeming to indicate they were spaced in a circle around a single point located just outside.
"Ah, wondrous!" Tsuyarra exclaimed, eyes bright as she took a martial artist's stance. The spine-wielding skeleton turned at the sound of her voice and began approaching, raising its "weapon" to strike. The elven woman struck twice with her bare hands, the first going right under the skeleton's ribcage as though she were trying to knock its wind out, while the second cracked a few of its ribs.
Liam tried to step back as the other skeleton lunged at him, but something caught his feet and he stumbled and fell backward, nearly flattening Flare.
The body of the littlest girl began crawling up towards his throat, a terrible rasping sound coming from her throat. Her eyes were milky and even as Liam watched her flesh seemed to grow taut, as though drying out.
"Aww, shit!" Liam cried out, kicking at her as hard as he could. No matter how many times he booted her in the face she just kept coming…but at least her progress was stymied.
The other bodies that had been brought into the cabin began to stir as well, and the man's sounded like it was pounding at the door.
Tsuyarra erupted with another flurry of strikes as the spine-wielding skeleton swung at her. Her first punch knocked its head clear off, but the second came as the creature started to collapse. Somehow the elf's hand got caught underneath the skeleton's collarbone, and as it fell all heard an audible SNAP that did not come from the dispatched undead.
She shrieked as she fell with the body's remnants, though as they hit the floor the skeleton vanished into wisps of smoke.
Flare leapt upon the little girl-zombie crawling toward Liam's throat and proceeded to bite and gnaw at her, anger and distress coursing through his empathic link. Liam was pretty distressed himself, but started to feel better when he remembered his dagger and pulled it out.
His mood began to fade when he started stabbing it into the zombie's body. Unholy abomination fuelled by negative energy or not, it still looked like a little girl and as apathetic as Liam tried to be he couldn't kill a little girl-shaped entity and feel nothing.
The others took care of the animated corpses as soon as David caved the rib-wielding skeleton's skull in, collapsing it into a pile of dust. They bashed, slashed, stabbed or bit the zombies back to death all while Liam fought the child's body, all manner of spells fleeing in the face of animated corpses.
He was still stabbing it long after it stopped moving, and it was only when David seized his arm and restrained him from continuing that Liam realized what he'd done.
His dagger fell from nerveless fingers and he tasted bile. Numbly and only semi-consciously he reached into his satchel and felt around for a vial of concentrated Essence of Lady's Tears. Women of rank in Nagret used a diluted version to take the edge off particularly strong emotions that might cause fainting…or so said the men who pushed it upon them. Uncorking it, Liam inhaled from it only the barest amount of vapor possible.
Almost immediately his horror receded, as did all other emotions. With detached calm he replaced the cork and stood, shaking off the remnants of the zombie's assault.
"Are…are you alright?" David asked as all Liam's hysteria dissipated.
"Perfectly fine." Liam's voice was unnaturally calm. "Merely a dose of Lady's Tears." Now the Crone's Litany was not merely a chant, but a fact. At least for the next hour or so, and then he'd have several hells' worth of a headache.
"Are you sure that's safe?" Corian asked. Liam glanced at the door, now shuddering under the blows from the undead outside and answered in a dispassionate voice.
"As much as your concern will touch me later, I believe of greater import are the creatures out there." A particularly emphatic blow shook the door and cracked the hinges.
David spoke words of power that resonated hollowly in his throat, and his gestures drew shadows about his body like the scarves of a dancer. They floated into place in layers, wrapped about an arm and hanging from his body in a vague shape similar to that of a suit of armor.
"We've got three skeletons out there and the zombie-farmer, plus whoever actually raised the dead and a minimum of two archers." David glared at the door as a sword-like femur was thrust through and almost immediately wrenched out. "We're trapped in here, one of us is useless, and unless I've missed something not one of us has a bow or sling."
"To thin the herd, why not let the undead in?" Liam asked, watching the cracks in the door forming the most fascinating design. "At the least we can deal with them and then scout out the remainder we're facing."
Alan walked to the door, hunched over and face extended into the muzzle seen a couple days earlier. In a growling voice he said "That works for me" and yanked the door open. The zombie had been in the process of hurling itself at the door, and with its target removed it fell into the room. Unbalanced and surprised – insomuch as an unthinking abomination could be "shocked" – Alan's first swipe tore through its belly and released coils of intestines, his other hand missed by a wide margin but carried enough force to spin him around. Fortunately, at this point he'd latched his jaws onto the zombie's throat and his momentum tore it free, making visible the farmer's spine.
Corian took the opportunity to incant a spell, causing one of his hands to glow with pure positive energy. Unlike that which Liam had used to heal him earlier, this was ungoverned by any form of intent, and crackled chaotically. Even the barest of touches from luminous fingers caused burns as the spell's energy swept through the zombie's body. The wizard later learned it had caused disruptions to the "natural" flow of negative energy within the undead's form.
Two of the skeletons darted into the house on the zombie's tail, laying about with their femoral swords. The first had attacked Corian, but the young man somehow managed to turn the blow aside and avoided any serious harm beyond a torn robe.
Alan was not nearly so lucky. The second skeleton thrust its sword into his gut with enough force to lift him off his feet, and the only sound he managed was a pitiful squeak before the skeleton ripped its sword out and whirled to attack again.
Perhaps it'd been a swordsman in a previous life.
The zombie reached out a hand toward Alan and tried to grab him, but the young man stumbled back, hands returned to normal and clasped to his injury. And so the zombie shuffled in Alan's direction, only to fall as David took its head off with a long, curved blade.
The third skeleton started to move in, fixing its hollow-socketed gaze on Corian as it shouldered aside the skeleton that'd skewered Alan. This caused a bit of a kerfuffle as the one knocked aside turned and stabbed the fixated one through the chest.
Obviously, this did no real damage but Fixation looked down at the bone-blade hilt-deep between two ribs and swung its skull-headed mace at Skewer, collapsing part of its skull. Skewer backed down and turned back to Alan as Fixation returned to Corian, raising its mace as it stepped forward again, but Tsuyarra was there with her broken wrist cradled and kept steady by her free hand. She leapt up and kicked off Skewer's head, causing the skeleton to disintegrate even as she lashed out with her other foot at Fixation before landing. She didn't manage a particularly solid hit, but it caused Fixation to stumble and reorient on her.
As the elf and skeletons fought – Tsuyarra managing even with her injury – Liam pulled out his necklace and whispered a prayer. "Azure, grant unto me thy favour, that I might work thy will in this world." The pentacle flashed a brilliant blue as divine forces acknowledged his words. Its light misted over Liam and sank into his body, leaving a sensation of guidance in its wake.
Corian zapped Fixation with a crackling beam of positive energy while backing away from the fray, and the undamaged skeleton thrust its sword at Corian, trying to impale him like Alan. Again the sorcerer turned, somehow using his robes to catch the blade and keep it from causing him grievous harm.
To Liam's surprise Alan made a comeback by dashing forward and slashing at Fixation, apparently unconcerned about the big gaping hole in his belly…which didn't seem to be bleeding as much a gut wound should have. His blurring claws shredded Fixation, leaving only one skeleton.
A woman outside screamed with obvious frustration as David and Tsuyarra dismantled it.
David glanced outside and spat, reporting "One woman, two big men. Hiding in the tree line."
"That voice belonged to Kashya," Corian added, peeking through the window. "Maybe we can-" Whatever he'd been about to say was choked off as he stiffened, going pale as a sheet before dropping to the floor like someone had switched him off.
Liam rushed to his side and felt around quickly, finding wetness against the sorcerer's side. It was spreading in a way he didn't like, especially when my fingers started going numb. The wizard was about to try removing his robe to treat the injury when he noticed how Corian's clothes were being shifted about. It was almost as though someone were rifling through them…
Touching his pentacle, Liam narrowed his eyes and hissed a prayer in the teeth-gnashing language of the Abyss. "Azure, I beg of thee a touch of the darkness trapped by thy greatness!" Darkness coalesced about his hand, crackling as it drained life from the very air. Giving it his best guess, Liam thrust his shrouded hand at the space just above where the rifling was being concentrated, and was rewarded as his fingers closed about a small form. The spell discharged and a tiny voice squealed in pain, echoed by the woman outside as a man-like body became visible.
Flare charged in and pounced on the creature as Liam released it, and it spent several panicked moments trying to disengage itself from his familiar's claws. The wizard took the time to look at it as the last vestiges of its invisibility shredded away like water boiling off. The creature was certainly man-like, had slick skin the color of steel and horns and teeth like blackened iron. Its barbed, scorpion-like tail curled and struck again and again, trying to penetrate the magical armor safeguarding my cat while leathery, bat-like wings buffeted Flare in a desperate bit to escape.
Liam could almost taste the creature's bitter, black blood as Flare bit and clawed again and again, tearing whole strips of flesh from its body. Almost as soon as these became disengaged from its body they melted and bubbled away.
Finally, with Herculean effort the bat-winged thing managed to throw Flare off and struggled out the window, menacing Liam with its stinger when he tried to grab it. The familiar vibrated with barely suppressed fury that his prey had escaped. He paced back at forth, glaring up at the window but not jumping up into it, demonstrating common sense far beyond a normal animal.
Alan made as if to dash out the door after the little demon, but David barred his passage while watching from the doorway.
"No," he shook his head as Alan started to speak. "We're better protected here than out there, and they've got a clear view of the door. We'd be pincushions before we got past the fence." David frowned and squinted as though unsure of what he was looking at. "They're leaving. That's it, we're staying here." He turned to peer at Alan, his eyes widening alarmingly. "Why are you not writhing in pain?"
Alan poked at his wound and shrugged. "I learned swiftly to increase the resilience of flesh. It is not fatal. I'll live."
"Still…" David shook his head. "Liam, how's Corian?"
"Give me a minute, please." The wizard turned his attention back to the sorcerer, removing the young man's robes and finding leather armor beneath. "Why in the world would an arcanist want to wear armor? I'll never know this, I'm sure." Removing it may have helped, but Liam could tell the injury itself was non-fatal and relatively minor. The poison was the problem, and he had no treatment for venom of this sort. I can treat a spider bite…but not this. He said as much as he checked Corian's vitals. His breathing was shallow and his pulse erratic, but again: nothing Liam could do for him except keep him comfortable. "I believe it is a paralytic, and the demonic nature of the predator leads me to believe it may be non-lethal as that would be more inherently cruel. I'll monitor him, but there's nothing I can do."
"What sort of healer are you, to give up so quickly?" Tsuyarra demanded.
"One currently unhindered by emotions that would otherwise interfere with logical processes." I shrugged. "Do you wish me to look at your arm? It sounded like it had been broken."
"Pain is preferable to the touch of a drug addict," Tsuyarra pointedly looked away from Liam. David clenched his jaw.
"Liam, how much do you have left in the way of healing magic? I'd like to at least get Alan closed up."
The wizard's gaze lingered on Tsuyarra for a moment longer before turning his full attention to Alan, a hand wrapped about his necklace. "This, I can do."
They stayed that night in the farmhouse after cautiously clearing the remnants of the family out and burying them in the yard, fashioning makeshift grave markers of stone cairns. By that time the Lady's Tears had worked its way through Liam's system and he was feeling again, albeit in considerable pain from the hangover headache.
Rather than dose himself with willowbark tea Liam dealt with it through stubborn force of will, an odd notion of guilt attached to it.
Nonsense! I am not an addict, no matter what Tsuyarra says.
This had been only the third time that he'd used Lady's Tears, and the second time didn't count because Liam had dropped the vial and filled Jacob's house with its vapors.
That was why Jacob had been so supportive of Liam building his own place.
The family's shrine was to Echeriel, and as the closest thing to a priest the group had Liam murmured a prayer that they be held safely and in peace in his/her eternal gardens.
On seeing that Liam hadn't chosen another medication to deal with the hangover Tsuyarra allowed him to inspect her arm…or perhaps the pain was simply too much for her to bear. The wizard cooked up a poultice to reduce the swelling before he set the bones and splinted them in place, somehow forgetting to give her a painkiller in the process.
Alan received the benefit of Liam's last healing spells, minor prayers designed more for short-term stabilization than actual healing, but they closed his external injuries and prevented infection from being a real factor until Liam could gather the mental fortitude necessary to work greater healing magic.
David – being the only one truly unscathed by the battle – took it upon himself to search the building top to bottom and came up with precious few belongings, including a battered old sword hanging above the fireplace in the common room: an heirloom, but one that resonated with magic. A careful examination suggested it was enchanted with a basic enhancement, but Liam's experience with such was minimal.
Corian survived his poisoning, and heat from the fire seemed to speed his recovery. He indicated that his limbs felt as though fused together and then coated in several layers of lead, at which point Liam decided they needed to delay departure to give him a little bit of time to recover.
There was no evidence of who the family had been, though perhaps someone in Fairhill would know them. They would know in three days. A day longer here to recover, and then two days' travel to Fairhill.
A truly glorious beginning to my adventuring career.
