Tensh barely bothered to wipe the blood from the blade of his axe before he stuck it back in his sash, no sense in cleaning what he was going to dirty again sooner or later. With the innkeeper laying in a pool of his own blood Tensh was almost alone in the inn, almost.
"It would seem I've inherited an inn from my dear late uncle, understand?" Tensh said, not even looking at the bouncer who reclined against the wall.
The bouncer understood immediately and inclined his head.
"He spoke of you with fondness, a pity he was taken by the heart sickness."Tensh nodded, no one would ever believe that anyone had spoken of him with fondness but he doubted anyone would ask over it. That still left the matter of the bouncer's rather unconcerned attitude to letting his colleagues die around him.
"I'm curious, why didn't you come up behind me and bash my brains on the floor while I was occupied with your friend?""I'm paid to throw drunken idiots out before they start breaking things, not to kill armed men who are sober. I don't pick fair fights for the horseshit he paid me." The bouncer said.
Tensh was beginning to like the bluff man.
"You want a job?""I think I already have one.""Good, you can start by piling these bodies in the cellar with the beer, if you've got spare barrels then stuff the bodies in those. No one will notice a little extra blood."The big man grunted assent and grabbed the other bouncer by the wrists, preparing to haul him off.
"What's your name?" Tensh interrupted.
"Hathel."Whatever he was paying you, I'm doubling it. Get to work."As Hathel drug the bodies down Tensh recovered the slate that the innkeeper had dropped, reading the crabbed hand of the dead man was a chore but he could understand it with some effort.
"Laer Igeol... Welcome to the Drowsy Giant." He said softly as he read the tablet, running his thumb over the time worn blade of his axe.
"Enjoy your stay in the slums, because you're never going anywhere else." ---~~~---
"Metal is the most responsive element to the will of the wielders," Trevius continued as flows of shining metals swirled about the roof
"this is because it is the element that is always worked in a form that has been changed by one of the people. Pure metal has an innate connection to us because we are it's creators, for this reason it is also called the young element." Trevius brought three glittering strands together into one long belt and then unwove them seemingly without effort.
"Metals also have affinities with other elements, these affinities -as you noted with silver- allow them to absorb and incorporate other elements into their own design." Three spheres of light formed in mid-air and were almost immediately absorbed by a glittering belt of gold that split itself off from the main mass.
"Metal is also incredibly tasty." Annhur added to Trevius' dissertation.
Trevius sighed
"These affinities also create imbalances in certain magical creatures, iron burns the faerie, silver banishes spirits, and any metal taken to excess will induce a state of inebriation in metallivoric creatures, most notable of which are of course dragons. Now if I may continue without your help?" Annhur nodded his assent graciously.
Shaking his had ruefully Trevius continued.
"The two properties that define the element of metal are its ability to store and hide energy and its very literal translation of runic commands." Abruptly the stream of gold that had absorbed the balls of light condensed into three balls the size of Trevius' thumbnail and set themselves to hover in front of Zhar
"Tell me which one of these is not charged." Zhar blinked and peered at them closely, opening himself to the feel of them and seeking for anything that was marked with his master's magic... The spheres were surprisingly similar, and it was by intuition alone that he picked the leftmost sphere.
Trevius nodded approvingly.
"Very good, but you've worked with me for near on a decade now. Annhur, create a stable manifestation of light if you will." The little dragon mumbled something impolite in draconic but half closed its eyes and began to hum. An instant later a series of runes written in pure blue-white light floated in air.
"There, happy?" Trevius surveyed the runes and shrugged,
"Considering that this says 'Does it the sheep with Trevius' I'm disappointed in your grammar, but otherwise satisfied." With a wave of his hand the three gold spheres dissolved back into dust and emitted a muted flash as Trevius wrung the light back out of them, the glittering stream of gold then wove its way through the runes Annhur had crafted and absorbed the light as it had with the spheres. The stream then condensed back into three spheres and settled in front of Zhar.
"Again." Trevius commanded.
Zhar focused on the three spheres, the little familiar rarely exercised its own abilities enough that he could see them, and as far as he could tell the little gold balls were identical. The orc shook is head
"I can't tell sir." "I would have been surprised if you could." Trevius said.
"Very few people are capable of sensing such minute amount of energy even if they knew the creator closely. Later we'll go to the grand pavilion and you can tell me how many of the statues are golems." Zhar blinked.
"They're golems?" "Some, others are replicas of golems destroyed in the war. The first council thought the faces of the dead heroes would be demoralizing to the enemy, fighting a solid metal version of a person you just sacrificed a small army to kill in the first place will do that." Trevius smiled
"That however is history, not magic. Let us move on for a moment to runes and their relation to metal..." Trevius waved his hand and strands of metal dust of every color began condensing into three distinct types of runic letters, angular Dorianic, the broken spirals of the Tsavari clans, and finally the precursors of modern mage runes, Kantian runes.
Zhar was puzzled, the modern runes that made up magescript were used for control of every other element he'd worked with, nothing but summonings and old place rituals used different rune sets...
"Metal is peculiar because of its affinities for particular languages, the runic script that best effects a metal will be the language of the people who first worked with that metal. Hence using Tsavari to manipulate gold. Metals can be manipulated by pure will, but unlike the elder elements it cannot be contained by a mere investiture of will, nor can its powers be changed once it is invested in an object. Example." Trevius thought for a moment a rune made of iron broke off from the rest and reformed into a cube, covered in minute kantian script. Another instant and fleeting glimmer of energy and the runes on the cube burned a sullen red.
"Attempt to change the color of the runes without directly manipulating the metal." Zhar shrugged, he was good at this. Manipulating an enchantment without destroying it was a fundamental aspect of basic magic. He reached out and twisted the enchantment gently and precisely, a motion similar to picking up a tiny pebble and placing it atop the other. Nothing happened. Frustrating Zhar continued to tug at the tiny enchantment, but it was like a great stone with only a tiny corner showing- no matter how small it looked, it would never budge.
"Easy lad, give it up." Trevius said gently as Zhar's face turned darkened with effort.
"I couldn't do that, the archmage couldn't, no angel, demon, or emissary of the great powers could do it any more than a child can fly by flapping his arms in the air. It's why we use metal to bind them, anything else can be twisted against us." Zhar dropped his hands in frustration, he didn't like lessons that were designed to be failed.
"So what do you do with them?" Trevius smiled in an amused sort of way.
"Patience. Metalrunes can be destroyed, corrupted or broken in a number of ways, they can be overloaded beyond their capacity, they can be physically marred, you can add a rune to change the meaning of the spell, or you can change or remove an existing rune." The cube broke apart and reformed, the runes larger and less frequent now, but still glowing with the sullen red light.
"Again, alter the glow. Annhur will help you with the metal craft necessary." "I will?" The little dragon said petulantly
"It would be nice if you asked..." Trevius didn't bother responding and merely stared the familiar down until it grumbled over to Zhar's feet.
"Have care," Trevius warned
"There are many things to be said, and many ways to say it. Some of them do not end well." Zhar nodded and let Annhur gently sink a claw into his leg, the familiar was bonded to Trevius and anyone else required direct contact to use the creature's power.
"Do try to live up to my reputation..." Annhur drawled as Zhar's blood began to well around his talons.
"You're a foot tall, what up is there?" Zhar quipped through clenched teeth, dragon claws were sharp and rather painful.
The familiar hissed in the way of draconic laughter.
"It's not the size that counts..." he broke off as the blood bond solidified, banter could wait, this was business.
"Ready?" "Ready."---~~~---
Laer was calm and serene as he walked into the inn of the Drowsy Giant, the stench of muck and decay from the docks mixed with fresh blood as he stepped through the worn door and into the smoky interior of the main room. His face never changed as he surveyed the nearly empty inn, taking in the stains of blood that were only now begin the brown on the floor... He noted in particular the lack of the bouncers he had seen when he had taken the trouble to book the room. A slight frown creased his lips however when he noted the man behind the counter, he was swilling whiskey and was most assuredly not the man he had dealt with. Still, that hardly changed matters.
The man behind the counter eyed him somewhat drunkenly, smiling something that had more predator in it than human.
"Ah, you mus' be Laer..." He said, letting it hang there.
Laer instantly disliked the man, there was something about that was simply... wrong.
"I am Laer Igeol, I have come to deal with the housemaster." Laer suppressed a sigh, it didn't take a genius to realize what had happened here... Best to give the murderer the easiest possible way to lie about it.
"Is the man indisposed?" "Indeed 'e is, I be standin' for 'im till the sickness breaks... 'e told me 'bout you though. The man said, his smile changing to something that Laer thought was supposed to be ingratiating.
"Got yer room set right out fer you if you be wantin' it." Laer could play along, killing them now would be a chore and potentially more noisome than it was worth.
"Lead on goodman, I would indeed enjoy the chance to make use of my accommodations." Laer unlaced his most obvious purse from his belt, pulling out a pair of Kantian gold marks, and after a moment of thought he added a platinum crescent from the isles.
"I believe this was the agreed price, with a little extra for the sickened housemaster." he said smiling, enjoying the sight of the stinking man's eyes widening.
The murderer's grubby hand closed around the coins tightly and shoved them into a pocket inside the rough seacoat he wore.
"I be sure he thanks you fer it. This way now." He said, grabbing a soot caked lantern off the wall and gesturing down a windowless corridor.
Laer nodded as graciously as he could manage and went first. Even after being as generous as he had the thug was stil planning to kill him, it was irritatingly greedy. For a moment he almost felt a pang of homesickness, at least the robbers in Maedo would respect a peace offering of sufficient value.
The hallway lead to a flight of stairs down, and Laer's heart quickened with every step. So close to it he could feel the latent power throbbing like the heartbeat of some slumbering giant... Laer chuckled slightly at that thought, perhaps this inn was better named then even its owner knew.
"Ah, 'ere she is." The would-be innkeeper said as he gestured to a stout wooden door that smelled faintly of urine.
"A fine room out of sight and sound fer people such as yerself." The man said, opening the door for Laer and making an attempt to wink conspiratorily through the scar tissue that made up a good chunk of his face.
Laer nodded his thanks and entered, his hands trembling as the gentle pulse of power tumbled over him time and time again... The culmination of almost a century of work was at hand.
"Thank you for your assistance my friend, now please, I have had a long day of work and would wish to rest." "Of course, of course... By all means, rest." The murderer said from behind Laer, the bad accent and whiskey slur dropping out of his voice as the thug swung his axe at Laer's back.
Laer didn't even bother to move, letting the man's axe rend through the cloth of his robe to strike the plate and mail he wore beneath it. The thug was strong, but the craft-wrought metal was far stronger and the blow merely knocked Laer forwards an inch.
"My name is Laer Mantor Igeol." he said softly, turning around slowly to face his stunned assailant.
"And I will not be stopped by a common thug in my own room." The thug raised his axe back for a second swing at Laer's unarmored head, but Laer simply raised his hand. Burning light and shadow burst forth in a storm of noise and abstract shapes. The tidal wave of holy force knocked the thug to the wall and pinned him there helplessly.
"I have fought with men and demons and I still remain, I have fought with the monsters of the wailing plains and I still remain, I have dueled the white dragon-king on his mountain and I still remain." Laer said quietly as he continued to force his assassin into the harsh wood and plaster of the wall.
"I have fought you and your crony, and I shall remain." He finished, jerking his head at where the bouncer attempted to crouch hidden in the shadows.
The bouncer blinked and stood uncertainly from his hiding place, then he tossed down his club and purse and put both palms up.
"Paupers peace my lord, I want no trouble with this." The heavy man said with sincerity.
Laer nodded and the thug pinned to the wall howled in rage.
"Traitorous bastard! I'll see you hung with your guts!" he screamed as the wave of energy continued to pummel him.
The bouncer merely shrugged.
"You paid better, but nobody pays me enough to kill mageborn with a stic-" Laer's eyes suddenly burned bright with fury and he let the murderer drop, redirecting and redoubling the energy he held at the bouncer.
Hathel had enough time to look surprised before the shadowfire ripped the flesh from his bones.
"I am no mageborn freak." Laer said with cold vehemence, glaring at the bloody stain that was left of the bouncer.
"I am the High Priest of Fult, Master of both hands and Grand Artificer of the seven circles. Remember this for your next life." Shaking his head in disgust he turned back to the battered murderer.
"Go. Tell them the old times have returned." With hatred burning in his eyes the murderer fled, running from the insane priest as well as his stout legs were able.
As the man left Laer finally calmed himself and allowed the smile of elation to creep back into his features as he felt the pulse and throb of his God's last great gift to his people. The time was now, the end of the reign of demon-spawn magi lords was coming to an end.
Casting off his cloak to reveal his holy symbol and armor Laer knelt in the dirt floor of the room, spreading his hands and closing his eyes.
"The time of cleansing is come, the sleep is over, arise and serve the people." Runes of blue and amber flowed from Laer's outstretched hands and into the earth as he spoke.
"The time of birth and renewal is nigh, the twisted weaken, arise and serve the people." Laer said, his voice gaining power and volume with each word.
"The highest of the high calls you, waken to the masters call, arise and serve the people!" The runes began to flow faster and glow with an incandescent energy that brought the smell of burned earth to to the already miasmal odor of the inn.
"Zhra kaday'ah cha nazameth!" Laer cried and ripped the holy sigil from his throat, flinging it to the earth.
As the amulet struck the ground itself answered, a pillar of earth pushing itself upwards from the floor, expanding in waves until it reached the ceiling. For a long moment all was silent. Then a hand as black as the void pushed it's way from the earth, grasping and twisting until it began to free the rest of its immense body from the pile of earth. Within a moment it stood free of the debris, the seven foot automaton facing the priest.
"Perfect son of the mind," Laer intoned
"I welcome thee." Blue flames lit within the eyes of the creature then, burning with a life wholly apart from the dull and lusterless material it was made from.
"I have returned." It said, it's voice a mixture of fire and lightning.
"I serve the true people." 
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Topic: Request a short story (Read 2548 times)