waved it at the struggling Malkanian.
“Do you know, boy, in the early days of my training, I used to complain about the way we were forced to waste time learning the use of conventional weapons. After all, we were to be the masters of fire, water, earth and air. Such a simple thing, this hammered bit of earth. Even a child could use it.”
The red mage’s face was slick with sweat, and his eyes were filled with terror. “Battlemage!” he hissed.
“Even so. An interesting choice of deaths, is it not? I wonder, will it be earth—” he lifted the dagger— “or fire?” The wizard threw two more bolts of lightning at the red-robe, shrugged as they were blocked by the latter’s shield, and then his wrist snapped forward. A moment later, the golden aura disappeared, and the young mage collapsed to the ground, both his hands clutching at the hilt of the dagger protruding from under his chin.
“Earth it is. A wise choice, boy. Quicker and with a little less in the way of pain.
Lodi froze as the tall wizard turned from the dying mage and regarded him without expression. Lodi still held his axe in his right hand, but he had the dreadful feeling that even if he could throw it faster than the wizard could hurl his deadly lightnings, it would probably just bounce off of some sort of magical shield or demon-cursed robe.
“There is no need to fear me, dwarf.” The wizard shook his head. “When I said I intended you no harm, I meant it.”
Lodi silently lowered his axe, less because he trusted the wizard’s words than because he suspected the weapon was useless to him.
“They dead?” he asked, pointing to the seven guards lying on the ground.
“Unfortunately, yes. Had that young fool there only kept his mouth shut, I would have spared them. But my king would not have Malkan know that we are capable of passing their wards as easily as dwarves pass their walls.”
Lodi took the hint. “Dwarves got no interest in Man wars,” he hastened to assure the wizard.
“I ventured to assume as much. As it seems we now share each other’s secrets, please convey the good wishes of His Majesty to the King of Iron Mountain. Savondir has always held the lords of the underdeep in the utmost regard, and he seeks no conflict with them. Now, would you be so kind as to do me the honor of presenting me to the Lady Everbright?”
The mage’s words were gentle enough, but Lodi recognized the steel underneath them. He shrugged. If the Savonders wanted to sneak a thousand mages inside the walls of Malkan, it was no concern of the dwarves.
“Come out, all of you,” he called. “There is no danger.”
Although he knew it would not do the elfess the least bit of good if the wizard were lying, he was pleased to see the four young dwarves step forward in front of her, acting as a shield of sorts. And he was even more pleased to see the tall wizard nod gravely to them, acknowledging their courage. He suspected the Man knew how unlikely it was that dwarves would lift a finger for an elf, let alone defend one, in normal circumstances.
“This Man is a warmage from Savonder, Dashella,” Lodi told the elfess. “He say he been looking for you for a long time. Man, she call herself Dashella.”
“An honor, Lady Everbright,” the wizard said as he smoothly dropped to one knee and kissed her hand. To Lodi’s surprise, the Man said something in Elvish, something that produced a look of surprise, followed by the barest hint of a smile on the elfess’s long, narrow face. She gave him a reply in the same tongue.
“Alas, my lady Elf, that very nearly approaches the sum total of my knowledge of your tongue. I do beg your pardon. I ask only that you allow me the privilege of escorting you first to Suessa, from whence we will take ship to Oeile. After my colleagues in the art, who are very interested in consulting with you, are able to meet you in Lutèce, you will be provided with an honor guard to the court of your cousin.”
Lodi
“Do you know, boy, in the early days of my training, I used to complain about the way we were forced to waste time learning the use of conventional weapons. After all, we were to be the masters of fire, water, earth and air. Such a simple thing, this hammered bit of earth. Even a child could use it.”
The red mage’s face was slick with sweat, and his eyes were filled with terror. “Battlemage!” he hissed.
“Even so. An interesting choice of deaths, is it not? I wonder, will it be earth—” he lifted the dagger— “or fire?” The wizard threw two more bolts of lightning at the red-robe, shrugged as they were blocked by the latter’s shield, and then his wrist snapped forward. A moment later, the golden aura disappeared, and the young mage collapsed to the ground, both his hands clutching at the hilt of the dagger protruding from under his chin.
“Earth it is. A wise choice, boy. Quicker and with a little less in the way of pain.
Lodi froze as the tall wizard turned from the dying mage and regarded him without expression. Lodi still held his axe in his right hand, but he had the dreadful feeling that even if he could throw it faster than the wizard could hurl his deadly lightnings, it would probably just bounce off of some sort of magical shield or demon-cursed robe.
“There is no need to fear me, dwarf.” The wizard shook his head. “When I said I intended you no harm, I meant it.”
Lodi silently lowered his axe, less because he trusted the wizard’s words than because he suspected the weapon was useless to him.
“They dead?” he asked, pointing to the seven guards lying on the ground.
“Unfortunately, yes. Had that young fool there only kept his mouth shut, I would have spared them. But my king would not have Malkan know that we are capable of passing their wards as easily as dwarves pass their walls.”
Lodi took the hint. “Dwarves got no interest in Man wars,” he hastened to assure the wizard.
“I ventured to assume as much. As it seems we now share each other’s secrets, please convey the good wishes of His Majesty to the King of Iron Mountain. Savondir has always held the lords of the underdeep in the utmost regard, and he seeks no conflict with them. Now, would you be so kind as to do me the honor of presenting me to the Lady Everbright?”
The mage’s words were gentle enough, but Lodi recognized the steel underneath them. He shrugged. If the Savonders wanted to sneak a thousand mages inside the walls of Malkan, it was no concern of the dwarves.
“Come out, all of you,” he called. “There is no danger.”
Although he knew it would not do the elfess the least bit of good if the wizard were lying, he was pleased to see the four young dwarves step forward in front of her, acting as a shield of sorts. And he was even more pleased to see the tall wizard nod gravely to them, acknowledging their courage. He suspected the Man knew how unlikely it was that dwarves would lift a finger for an elf, let alone defend one, in normal circumstances.
“This Man is a warmage from Savonder, Dashella,” Lodi told the elfess. “He say he been looking for you for a long time. Man, she call herself Dashella.”
“An honor, Lady Everbright,” the wizard said as he smoothly dropped to one knee and kissed her hand. To Lodi’s surprise, the Man said something in Elvish, something that produced a look of surprise, followed by the barest hint of a smile on the elfess’s long, narrow face. She gave him a reply in the same tongue.
“Alas, my lady Elf, that very nearly approaches the sum total of my knowledge of your tongue. I do beg your pardon. I ask only that you allow me the privilege of escorting you first to Suessa, from whence we will take ship to Oeile. After my colleagues in the art, who are very interested in consulting with you, are able to meet you in Lutèce, you will be provided with an honor guard to the court of your cousin.”
Lodi
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