Post by Osranger on Aug 1, 2014 23:27:34 GMT -6
A single spark is all that is needed. To coax out a flame, to light a torch, to start an inferno. Fire gives us life, and it takes it away...
The wand fastened securely in a hidden picket sewed into his cloak, better to deter thieves and pickpockets, Sedrick Mallowmarch hustled down the empty streets of Cloudknell, the cool night air brushing his face as he walked. He sneaked a glance over his shoulder once, twice, to make sure non one had followed him from Alistair's Wizard College. There was no one there except a few ravens sitting on a shop stall. It was late. Most of the sheep will be asleep in their beds, or drinking at a tavern. Stupid, complacent sheep. "All of the apprentices would be back at the Tower of Initiation, resting up for studies tomorrow. Nobody had followed him.
And If he was lucky, what he was about to do wouldn't be traced back to him. Grinning madly, he came to a halt in front of the Creaky Dragon, the oldest inn in the town. Almost 68 years old coming this Staug, the wood of the inn was old and dry, begging to be lit up. Months earlier, he had tried to set it free with a burning hands spell, but he couldn't quite set it ablaze before he was discovered. He had claimed it was a magical mishap, and was kicked out, but now he was back, with the proper spark. He reached down into his pocket, eagerly grasping the wand of fireballs in his left hand. As he drew out the slender cherrywood instrument, he closed his eyes listening for the sounds emenating from the inn. Laughter, yelling, the delicate music of several fine instruments, all of it filled his ears. He would add his own music in a second, create a symphony all on his own.
He raised the wand, ready to set the inn folk dancing and singing to his tune.
Flame shot from the tip of the wand, hurtling toward the front of the inn, when suddenly, Sedrick heard a whisper behind him and the fireball burst into harmless light.
"I'm not to certain that Alvis would appreciate it if I just started letting apprentices blow up his front door whenever they felt like it, would he?"
Sedrick gasped as a wizard,, dressed in the royal purple robes of a Sarcon College suddenly appeared twenty feet behind him, a raven perched on his shoulder. Next to him silently stood a second hooded figure, dressed in the white, purple trimmed robes of an apprentice.
"How did you? But nobody saw-" Sedrick began, but the Wizard cut him off.
"How long have you been going to Alistair's, Sedrick? Six months? Nine? There is a lot to magic you don't know yet, and after this stunt, you probably never will. Now if you just put the wand down, and maybe we can settle for a-"
Furious, Sedrick aimed the wand at this new wizard and with all his concentration, shot a fireball straight toward him. The wizard held out a hand, his other reaching for spell components swiftly in his pouch without a glance. Sedrick grinned as he saw that the wizard could not possibly prepare his spell in time! He laughed as the fireball struck him square in the palm, engulfing him and his apprentice with flames, shooting high into the sky.
In a flash, the fireball dissapated into flashes of light and color, fading into the sky as the wizard and his apprentice stood there unscathed (counterspell).
Sedrick readies his wand to fire again, infuriated and humiliated, he wanted nothing more than to wipe that knowing look off that stupid elvish wizard's face.
The wizard simply held up a piece of metal, inspected it briefly, and tossed it into the air, where it vanished, with a soft pop.
At first, Sedrick thought nothing had happened, but when he tried to fire another fireball, he found he could no longer move his arm. He tried to look down, but his head was frozen in place. He was completely immobile, all the while, the wizard and his apprentice stepped steadily closer, the wizard's stupid smile still on his face!
---
Erik sighed as he pried the wand from the paralyzed apprentice's hand. "We get so few applicants these days, it's a shame if any of them turn up rotten. Don't you agree Camoran? Ah, forget I asked. How about you take a day or two off. I know a good inn nearby."
Without awaiting his response, Erik tosses him a silver piece which he catches deftly.
"Oh, and take this scroll of sending too. Let me know if you need anything." Erik says, slipping a small parchment out of his sleeve. He tossed the sealed scroll to his apprentice, careful not to break the seal and prematurely activating the spell.
Anthir pauses for a moment, glancing at the scroll in his hand. Erik glances around. A few people had gathered at the front of the inn, peering out the shutters, and he spied a few people standing out by their front doors to see the commotion. There was even a ranger walking toward him from down the road, probably wondering about the strange lights he saw.
"That's an order," Erik sighed sliding the wand into his pocket. He could already sense the rumors spreading about rogue wizards. He was probably going to be answering the questions over a lot of angry people over the next couple of days, and it would probably be better for Anthor if he wasn't around.
Erik heard the doors of the inn swing open and shut, the sound of his apprentice heading inside. Good, he could teleport himself and the miscreant back to the tower and he could rest himself for tomorrow's ordeals.
"Excuse me," a voice voice called out behind him, "elf, would you care to tell me what happened here?"
Erik turned around, giving the man his most patient look. "A magical mishap, nothing more. Do you wish anything else of me?" He slips a second piece of iron out of his spell components pouch. Sedrick can move no more than an inch before he is held fast again "I only have a minute to spare, I really must get going."
The ranger looks up thoughtfully, for several precious seconds before answering, "Actually I do. Do you know a place I could find a few legs that can swing some swords. I'm going on a mission for the Scout Corps and I could use the muscle. And maybe a cheap place to stay the night?"
"You will find what you seek through the door to my right," Erik said, gesturing at the Creaky Dragon. Now good night. A wizard has places to be." Without a moment more hesitation, he stepped from the cold streets of Cloudknell into the warm confines of his office, prisoner in tow.
--
"Right," Malcolm said, as the wizard disappeared with the paralyzed man, "I hope you're not yanking my chain." As he stepped through the door into the common room.
The common room of the CREAKY DRAGON was warmly lit by the soft glow of ox horn chandeliers swaying softly from the ceiling. To the right, the gnomish bartender leaned over the countertop, polishing it furiously with a dull gray rag. Small, round wooden tables lay scattered throughout the room where groups of in goers had pushed then together or pulled them apart.
In the center of it all, bathed in light from the chandeliers above, a line elf played the lute, his slender fingers expertly plucking the finely tuned strings, delivering a simple, elegant, elvish melody. The spectacle outside had cost him most of his audience, but few remained, so he continued to play.
Sitting not far away, a stocky performer waited his turn to perform, twirling a crossbow bolt absentmindedly as he awaits his turn to perform.
A Druid sat in the corner of the room, his hawk companion scanning the ground for particularly brave mice and a free meal.
A red haired swords woman sat at a table near the performer, but she was neither roused by the music nor magic as she idly swirled her untouched ale, peering into its amber depths.
A few tables away sat a blonde adventurer, drinking heartily from his mug, the only one listening to the elf's tune. Everyone else had vacated their seats to peer out the windows.
Some of the inn goers still crowded the by them, but after the wizard disappeared, so did their entertainment. Most of them were on their way back to their vacant seats, whispering to each other, speculating what three spell casters could have been doing right outside their inn.
Others wondered about the business of the hooded spell caster the wizard left behind, who sat in the darkest corner of the room, to the right of the front door, and to the left of the bar, watching the doorway, ready for when the tall, lithe ranger stride into the room.
The wand fastened securely in a hidden picket sewed into his cloak, better to deter thieves and pickpockets, Sedrick Mallowmarch hustled down the empty streets of Cloudknell, the cool night air brushing his face as he walked. He sneaked a glance over his shoulder once, twice, to make sure non one had followed him from Alistair's Wizard College. There was no one there except a few ravens sitting on a shop stall. It was late. Most of the sheep will be asleep in their beds, or drinking at a tavern. Stupid, complacent sheep. "All of the apprentices would be back at the Tower of Initiation, resting up for studies tomorrow. Nobody had followed him.
And If he was lucky, what he was about to do wouldn't be traced back to him. Grinning madly, he came to a halt in front of the Creaky Dragon, the oldest inn in the town. Almost 68 years old coming this Staug, the wood of the inn was old and dry, begging to be lit up. Months earlier, he had tried to set it free with a burning hands spell, but he couldn't quite set it ablaze before he was discovered. He had claimed it was a magical mishap, and was kicked out, but now he was back, with the proper spark. He reached down into his pocket, eagerly grasping the wand of fireballs in his left hand. As he drew out the slender cherrywood instrument, he closed his eyes listening for the sounds emenating from the inn. Laughter, yelling, the delicate music of several fine instruments, all of it filled his ears. He would add his own music in a second, create a symphony all on his own.
He raised the wand, ready to set the inn folk dancing and singing to his tune.
Flame shot from the tip of the wand, hurtling toward the front of the inn, when suddenly, Sedrick heard a whisper behind him and the fireball burst into harmless light.
"I'm not to certain that Alvis would appreciate it if I just started letting apprentices blow up his front door whenever they felt like it, would he?"
Sedrick gasped as a wizard,, dressed in the royal purple robes of a Sarcon College suddenly appeared twenty feet behind him, a raven perched on his shoulder. Next to him silently stood a second hooded figure, dressed in the white, purple trimmed robes of an apprentice.
"How did you? But nobody saw-" Sedrick began, but the Wizard cut him off.
"How long have you been going to Alistair's, Sedrick? Six months? Nine? There is a lot to magic you don't know yet, and after this stunt, you probably never will. Now if you just put the wand down, and maybe we can settle for a-"
Furious, Sedrick aimed the wand at this new wizard and with all his concentration, shot a fireball straight toward him. The wizard held out a hand, his other reaching for spell components swiftly in his pouch without a glance. Sedrick grinned as he saw that the wizard could not possibly prepare his spell in time! He laughed as the fireball struck him square in the palm, engulfing him and his apprentice with flames, shooting high into the sky.
In a flash, the fireball dissapated into flashes of light and color, fading into the sky as the wizard and his apprentice stood there unscathed (counterspell).
Sedrick readies his wand to fire again, infuriated and humiliated, he wanted nothing more than to wipe that knowing look off that stupid elvish wizard's face.
The wizard simply held up a piece of metal, inspected it briefly, and tossed it into the air, where it vanished, with a soft pop.
At first, Sedrick thought nothing had happened, but when he tried to fire another fireball, he found he could no longer move his arm. He tried to look down, but his head was frozen in place. He was completely immobile, all the while, the wizard and his apprentice stepped steadily closer, the wizard's stupid smile still on his face!
---
Erik sighed as he pried the wand from the paralyzed apprentice's hand. "We get so few applicants these days, it's a shame if any of them turn up rotten. Don't you agree Camoran? Ah, forget I asked. How about you take a day or two off. I know a good inn nearby."
Without awaiting his response, Erik tosses him a silver piece which he catches deftly.
"Oh, and take this scroll of sending too. Let me know if you need anything." Erik says, slipping a small parchment out of his sleeve. He tossed the sealed scroll to his apprentice, careful not to break the seal and prematurely activating the spell.
Anthir pauses for a moment, glancing at the scroll in his hand. Erik glances around. A few people had gathered at the front of the inn, peering out the shutters, and he spied a few people standing out by their front doors to see the commotion. There was even a ranger walking toward him from down the road, probably wondering about the strange lights he saw.
"That's an order," Erik sighed sliding the wand into his pocket. He could already sense the rumors spreading about rogue wizards. He was probably going to be answering the questions over a lot of angry people over the next couple of days, and it would probably be better for Anthor if he wasn't around.
Erik heard the doors of the inn swing open and shut, the sound of his apprentice heading inside. Good, he could teleport himself and the miscreant back to the tower and he could rest himself for tomorrow's ordeals.
"Excuse me," a voice voice called out behind him, "elf, would you care to tell me what happened here?"
Erik turned around, giving the man his most patient look. "A magical mishap, nothing more. Do you wish anything else of me?" He slips a second piece of iron out of his spell components pouch. Sedrick can move no more than an inch before he is held fast again "I only have a minute to spare, I really must get going."
The ranger looks up thoughtfully, for several precious seconds before answering, "Actually I do. Do you know a place I could find a few legs that can swing some swords. I'm going on a mission for the Scout Corps and I could use the muscle. And maybe a cheap place to stay the night?"
"You will find what you seek through the door to my right," Erik said, gesturing at the Creaky Dragon. Now good night. A wizard has places to be." Without a moment more hesitation, he stepped from the cold streets of Cloudknell into the warm confines of his office, prisoner in tow.
--
"Right," Malcolm said, as the wizard disappeared with the paralyzed man, "I hope you're not yanking my chain." As he stepped through the door into the common room.
The common room of the CREAKY DRAGON was warmly lit by the soft glow of ox horn chandeliers swaying softly from the ceiling. To the right, the gnomish bartender leaned over the countertop, polishing it furiously with a dull gray rag. Small, round wooden tables lay scattered throughout the room where groups of in goers had pushed then together or pulled them apart.
In the center of it all, bathed in light from the chandeliers above, a line elf played the lute, his slender fingers expertly plucking the finely tuned strings, delivering a simple, elegant, elvish melody. The spectacle outside had cost him most of his audience, but few remained, so he continued to play.
Sitting not far away, a stocky performer waited his turn to perform, twirling a crossbow bolt absentmindedly as he awaits his turn to perform.
A Druid sat in the corner of the room, his hawk companion scanning the ground for particularly brave mice and a free meal.
A red haired swords woman sat at a table near the performer, but she was neither roused by the music nor magic as she idly swirled her untouched ale, peering into its amber depths.
A few tables away sat a blonde adventurer, drinking heartily from his mug, the only one listening to the elf's tune. Everyone else had vacated their seats to peer out the windows.
Some of the inn goers still crowded the by them, but after the wizard disappeared, so did their entertainment. Most of them were on their way back to their vacant seats, whispering to each other, speculating what three spell casters could have been doing right outside their inn.
Others wondered about the business of the hooded spell caster the wizard left behind, who sat in the darkest corner of the room, to the right of the front door, and to the left of the bar, watching the doorway, ready for when the tall, lithe ranger stride into the room.
