Mud and Magic Ch. 05

"Well, it's not like I have any chances with her either. She's not into students and besides, I guess she has a thing for Master Thurguz."

"Yah, that too."

Rhys reclaimed his training daggers and jogged back up the stairs, to the room where he hoped Sen still waited.

She looked up when he entered. The half-elven maid seemed a little more composed. Her tears had dried and she had bound her hair into its customary ponytail.

"What do you have there?" she asked. "Daggers?"

"Yes." Rhys handed her one. "Try this for a change."

She took the dagger and tossed it in the air. The weapon tumbled end over end. Sen easily caught it, whirled on her heel and threw. The wooden blade stuck, vibrating, in the dummy's head.

"Um." Sen looked down, blushing. "I'm kinda good with knives."

"No kidding." Rhys handed her another dagger. "How about stabbing the dummy?"

"You mean like this?" Sen hugged the hapless straw fellow and jabbed, landing a quartet of hits going from his abdomen to his neck.

"You could teach me," Rhys said, awestruck.

"I've handled hunting knives since I could walk," Sen said. "And butcher knives since they made me a fucking maid here." She used a backhand slash to scatter straw everywhere. "I don't understand why no one wants to teach me!"

"You're quick and nimble, you seem very observant and organized and you wield mean knives. You could give Froki a run for his money I'd wager. Besides, you're cuter than him."

"Huh? Froki who?"

"Froki the Rogue, from 'The Tales of Orran.' Orran's best friend."

A furtive smile tugged at Sen's lips. "Why do I have the feeling you're trying to sweet-talk me?"

"I am not. Last time I checked it was you desperately trying to get into my bed." Rhys grinned. "I'm just trying to know you better. It's obvious that you have more skills than just being an easy fuck."

"You know, it sort of hurts when you put it that way."

Rhys exhaled slowly. "Is everything you hear an insult? Or is it just when I say it? If you haven't noticed, I am trying to help you."

"You have a weird way of showing that," Sen said.

"Why? Because I'm speaking the truth? You could do so much more than just be angry all the time. And you certainly don't have to spread your legs for everyone just to feel better."

"Says the one who ends up with all girls naked by his side." Sen put her hands on her hips, challenging Rhys with a hard stare.

"I don't have to explain myself to you at all," Rhys snarled. "Just to put this tiresome thing past us -- I have only slept with Chassari and Elara thus far. Lishaka wants to but I want to take it slow with her. Not that it's any of your business, damn it." A little milder, he added: "And it's not like I'm trying to spite you on purpose. I simply see more in you than just a willing pussy. Is that so hard to accept?"

Sen turned away from him, picking the daggers from the straw dummy. Rhys wondered if that was her way of ending the conversation. He shrugged, having said his peace, and headed for the door.

"Rhys."

He stopped. "Yes?"

"I think you have a point. I'm not quite sure if I'll manage it but I want to give it a try."

"Manage what?"

"Not being angry all the time."

"If you want to put your intention to the test, you could come back and care again for me, accidental naked girls and all," Rhys said, grinning.

"Not sure if I want that kind of abuse. I'll think about it."

"Fair enough." He opened the door.

"And Rhys... tha- ...thank you."

* * * *

After his encounter with Sen, Rhys picked an empty training room and spent the rest of the day practicing his spellcasting. He went through every manifestation known to him, from simple utility spells like creating light or heat sources to the few battle magics he had learned so far -- mainly small missiles of fire, lightning, ice and acid -- to the shield spell Idunn had taught him. His goal was to improve the speed with which he could weave the strands of magic into the manifestation. Without Borna to distract him and Idunn's stern glare, it was almost too easy. Rhys knew full well that away from the tower, distractions would be ever-present and he'd always fight some outside interference. But the simple act of repeating the same motions, the same mental exertion made it easier and easier. Around sundown, he had reached the point where he dared to pull on more strands of power, amplifying his spells. Instead of one magic missile, he could now create three and have them track different targets. His Lightning Spark, usually reaching from his fingertips to about an arm's length away, could cross the whole training chamber. And instead of a small gob of acid, he could throw what amounted to a whole puddle's worth. Thanks to the security enchantments Thurguz had placed on the training rooms, the spells didn't cause actual damage. Otherwise Rhys would have caused some impressive destruction.

Drained, with a mounting headache and rumbling stomach, Rhys eventually returned to his chamber. To his surprise, Sen awaited him outside. Since last he had seen her, she had changed into a fresh set of clothes and was her usual, stern self.

"I've switched with Yukio, if that's all right with you," Sen said without preamble, looking intently at his face.

"Welcome back. I have missed you," Rhys said, a genuine smile on his lips. "May I trouble you to fetch me some dinner?"

"That's why I'm here for," she said, a thin smile tugging at her lips. "Anything in particular?"

"Some meat, roast or steak if you have it. Side dish of your choice, some vegetables and a large glass of milk, please."

"Of course. I've also taken the liberty of emptying your laundry basket. The clothing should be back tomorrow, good as new." She bowed and swooped past him.

Rhys opened the door to his room and used the bathroom to relieve himself and freshen up. By the time he had taken care of business and changed into a fresh set of clothes, Sen was back. She had already laid the small table he used to eat at. A large piece of steak, roasted potatoes and mushrooms awaited, along with the requested milk. A fragrant piece of apple pie was there as well. Rhys' mouth watered from the sights and smells alone.

"Thank you," he said, flopping into his armchair.

"Anything else tonight?" Sen asked.

"No, that should be all. After dinner, I'll probably hop over to Galdor and see how his trip to... how was that place called? Roarfell? How his trip there went."

"Roarfell is a small mining town a few days' ride away from here," Sen said. "Ugly place."

"Don't tell me Carver has his people there as well." Rhys tried the steak. It was delicious, done to perfection with just the right amount of salt and pepper.

"No idea. I've been there, helping the porter purchase supplies last autumn. It's dirty, crowded and there are few spots of green. It's all mines, foundries and too many dusty, tired, short-tempered people to be pleasant." She grinned viciously. "I wouldn't put it past Carver to buy metal there. Or hire people. Haven't seen that much scum in one place aside from when his men raided my home."

Sen cocked her head. "Sorry if I have to leave so suddenly but Hilgrun just rang for me." She nodded his way and slipped from his room.

Rhys raised an eyebrow. He had heard nothing. Shrugging, he dug into his meal and polished off the plates until not even a crumb remained then he went in search of Galdor. Rhys found him in his room, lounging in an armchair and smoking a pipe. The dwarf rose when Rhys entered.

"Rhys, welcome! How are you, my friend?"

"Turbulent days, Galdor. More than I was expecting."

Rhys looked around. Galdor's room had the same dimensions as his but it seemed much more crowded, thanks in no small part to the alchemist's work bench and oven which took up the space where Rhys' large bed stood. There were shelves full of components, cabinets with glass doors holding all kinds of intricate contraptions made from glass, crystal, metal or all three. Then there were the shelves with bottles, flagons and phials. Galdor had only a simple field bed, the only concession to luxury the fluffy pillow and crumpled duvet, along with two armchairs in front of the large fireplace. His backpack, still unopened, stood at the foot of his cot.

Galdor pointed to an armchair. "Sit. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Sure. What do you have, besides that sneaky mead?"

"I could brew a few mugs of tea."

"That would be perfect. I've just had dinner."

Galdor extinguished his pipe and knocked the ashes into a bin then used the workbench. He set a pot of water to boil on his oven and poured ground tea leaves into a large glass bulb then pulled something from his backpack and joined Rhys again.

"Here, I got this for you." He handed Rhys a slender package wrapped in waxed paper.

"For me? What is it?" Rhys asked, turning it this way and that.

"You can open it and find out," Galdor suggested. "Don't mind the paper, it was meant to protect the item against the shitty weather we had."

"I'm flattered," Rhys said, tearing open the package. "You didn't have to buy me a present though."

"That's the beauty of presents, Rhys. I didn't have to buy one but I wanted to. How do you like it?"

Rhys had freed the item from its papery prison. It was a dagger with a long blade, a short sword almost. The weapon was sheathed in a beautifully decorated scabbard, made from a creamy leather, with interlocking iron gears inlaid into the material. Rhys pulled the weapon free. The blade was forged from a strange metal, mainly silver in color but reflecting any light back with a violet sheen. It had a pronounced point before widening. The dagger had a simple cross-guard and the grip was wound with the same creamy leather before ending in a cog-shaped pommel.

"You got this ... for me?" Rhys turned the dagger this way and that. "It must have cost a small fortune!"

"It would have but I gambled the smith for it. Let me tell you, he was not happy when he lost it." Galdor grinned amicably. "But it was either the dagger or his whole smithy."

"What kind of metal is that? If I remember correctly, one of your dice is made from the same stuff."

"Adamantite. Cuts through almost everything and needs very little maintenance. Just make sure to wipe the blood off after a stabbing and you should be set."

"What did I do to deserve this?" Rhys asked, sheathing the weapon.

"Let's see," Galdor said, counting on his fingers. "You let me stay in your room when Lishaka blew up mine even though you didn't know me. We had a fantastic night with Chassari. And you didn't run away screaming when I chose you to spend a night with me."

"Wasn't the elemental stone-?" Rhys began.

Galdor cut him off with a swipe of his hand. "I also love to spoil my friends rotten," the dwarf added, grinning. The water kettle began to hiss and Galdor rose again, preparing the tea.

"So, I heard you saved Hilgrun?" the dwarf asked. "Must irk her no end."

"Kind of. Nearly got myself killed when the spellcaster I attacked refused to die after several dagger hits." Rhys fiddled with the sheathed weapon. "Hilgrun said we're battle-bound now. Still insists I have to beat her if I want to lay her."

"Ah, the courting rite of the Frostspire folk. I've heard interesting tales about it." Galdor carried the glass bulb and two cups to the table and set it down carefully. "Will you do it?"

Rhys laughed. "How am I supposed to beat her? Galdor, you should have seen her fight! She took on five or six fully armed warriors and nearly beat them. What chance do I have?"

"No one said you should beat her in a stand-up fight. That's the beauty with the courting rite. It only has to be a decisive outcome. I've heard tales of arm-wrestling, archery and even a game of dice."

"I don't think Hilgrun would submit to a game of 'Ones and Eights.'"

"Try it and see what happens. What else transpired on your first grand adventure?"

Someone knocked on the door. Galdor rolled his eyes. "I hope it's important!" he called.

Sen poked her head in. "A message from Thurguz. He wants everyone in the grand auditorium. Now."

* * * *

The auditorium was a large, semicircular room with six concentric rungs of seats rising from a central space. Floating orbs of magical light lit the wide, airy space. It could easily seat a hundred people, if not more. A lectern, occupied by Thurguz, stood in the middle of the floor while Idunn paced behind him. Most of the other students were already in attendance as Rhys and Galdor entered.

He probably didn't sleep at all, Rhys thought as he looked at Thurguz. The huge half-orc looked extremely tired, his eyes deep in their sockets and the lines on his green face more pronounced than ever.

To his surprise, Zentam was there as well, sitting next to Elara and chatting animatedly with the elven druid. She turned a leather collar in her hands, transfixed by a large, glimmering gemstone which had been set in a central fitting. Lishaka saw Rhys and called out his name, waving merrily, which in turn caused Galdor to put on a sour face.

"She'll behave," Rhys said, sitting down next to the grinning goblin. "Won't you?"

"I'll try," she said, yawning expansively. "I hope it's important. I was just about to cuddle up next to Chassari, you know?" Lishaka nudged Rhys and favored him with a knowing look. He blushed.

Galdor sat down next to Rhys, eyeing Lishaka with barely concealed displeasure.

Borna and Hagazz were the last ones to arrive. They had barely taken their places when Thurguz stirred.

"Everyone present? Good." He palmed his face, trying to massage some semblance of life into his cheeks. "Let's make this quick. Tomorrow, all of us will embark on another mission."

Surprised murmurs answered his proclamation. "Yes, I know it's a bit sudden but over the past day I have collected enough information about our latest problem. For those who haven't heard already, Idunn, Rhys, Elara and Hilgrun have been out and about, helping to defend a toll checkpoint Carver had set his eyes upon. The mission itself went smoothly but we learned that Carver was augmenting his usual hirelings with new, spellcasting undead."

Lishaka squeezed Rhys' thigh. "Good work," she muttered, earning a pointed "Shush!" from Galdor.

"I have good news and bad news in that regard," Thurguz went on. "The good news is that our agents have already found several leads. The bad news is that we're short on time. Thus I have no choice but to send everyone present, including our newest resident, Zentam ap Calgore."

The dwarf rose, turned and waved. "Nice ta meet ya'll," he said. His gaze eventually met Borna's and he fell silent.

"Zentam here brought a backpack full of odds and ends, many of them magical in nature. Before we head out tomorrow, see what he has to offer. I will also bring him along. For our next mission, we will need all the help we can get."

"As long as the pay is good, I'm yer dwarf," Zentam said, flopping down again.

"You wouldn't call all hands on deck unless it's really bad," Elara said. "So, how bad is it?"

Thurguz growled, his paws clawing at the edge of the lectern. "Unless we interfere, Carver's clerics will raise many more of these undead abominations. Tomorrow is the first new moon after harvest season, an important time for the occult. Especially when the dark faiths are concerned. Rituals involving the creation of unlife will turn out much stronger, yielding more or more powerful abominations than usual."

"Even with all of us afoot, we can't possibly cover every boneyard on the Western Continent," Hilgrun scoffed.

"We don't have to," Thurguz said. "That's one of the few bits of good news we have. There are three likely places Carver and his clerics may visit. There is the old Academy graveyard in Lordehome, the boneyard of the Dark Order to the north-west of Stoneridge -- and an old, nearly forgotten crypt under Storm Harbor."

"What's so special about that?" Rhys asked. "If it's nearly forgotten..."

"Our agent in Storm Harbor brought it up. Before the city was founded, the site had been used by a gathering of elven mages. From what little Millie has told me, they probably had built a research outpost there, to develop new spells far away from prying eyes. And they have buried their dead there as well."

"A whole crypt of High Mages?" Galdor asked. "That's troubling indeed. Even if they just plunder the tombs for the trinkets..."

"That's why I will go there personally, to make sure Carver's men don't try anything we all might regret," Thurguz said. "I would like to have you with me, Galdor, as well as Rhys and Borna. Idunn, you will seek an audience with the Dark Order, to make sure they know what's coming their way."

Idunn made a sour face. "I really don't like those zealots. But I guess the enemy of my enemy and all that."

Rhys raised a hand. "What's the Dark Order?"

Idunn sighed. "In short, a coven of sorcerers who ally themselves with demons. They draw their power from both their infernal masters and their own tainted blood. Every single one of them has a demon somewhere in their ancestry, which invariably leaves an indelible mark. They are schemers and power-hungry lunatics, all of them."

"They use their own blood as a power source?" Rhys asked. "Wouldn't that lead to Sorcerer's Burn?"

"It does. But their infernal heritage gives them a certain resistance to the draining effects. Not that it eliminates them entirely. You can easily recognize a Dark sorcerer by his skeletal, almost burnt-up appearance. All right. Since I hope we can solve this diplomatically, I'd like Chassari with me, along with Elara. And you." She pointed at Zentam.

"Me pleasure," the red-bearded dwarf said, nodding. "Just so ye know though, I'm not that good with words."

"I figured as much. But your armor-plated appearance will draw a lot of attention, diverting scrutiny away from the others."

"Oh, ye are a tricky one. I like that," Zentam said, grinning. "Ye remind me of a certain friend of mine."

Thurguz harrumphed, silencing everyone. "Hagazz. You have the unenviable task to secure the largest of our three targets."

The dark elf looked around. "And with everyone else claimed, I only have Hilgrun and Lishaka to bring along. May I say that I don't like the odds?"

"Don't fret. I have already sent word ahead. Justicar Tegan has mobilized a few of her contacts in the Watch and our agents in Lordehome should be alerted by now as well. I'm placing a lot of faith in your ability to coordinate so many people."

"No pressure then, huh?" Hagazz shook his head. "Also, if this thing is so important, how are the odds that Carver himself might show up?"

"That's a possibility we can't rule out," Thurguz admitted. "I want to make this absolutely clear: If Carver should show up, I want everyone to withdraw. No stupid heroics. If his appearance results in a few more of his undead, so be it. I do not want any of you to risk their lives in a futile attempt at revenge or heroism. Are we absolutely clear on that?"

Rhys didn't hesitate to add his own "aye" to the choir. By now he understood enough of his abilities to know what chances he might have against someone who had easily beaten not only Thurguz, but Idunn and the fabled Zephrya as well. Thurguz looked each of them up and down, visibly proud.

"Good. One last thing before I let you go. Several agents have run into these undead before. A handful of scattered encounters but each report helped me to form a somewhat clear picture of what we're facing. I'm calling these undead Raghbairn, "Children of Desire", since they're called up to serve the Seductress' clerics. We don't know much about the ritual to create them but one thing is for certain -- they arise as intelligent, rational beings. Whatever they were in life has been stripped away, leaving a ruthless, vicious semblance of personality behind. Their spellcasting ability seems to fluctuate from one to the other. I've read reports of some which were barely stronger than Rhys or Lishaka to those who seemed to be more on par with me and Idunn. So beware, observe and don't take any of them lightly. Their undead nature gives them a number of perks, all of them a nuisance to us. First, they are freakishly strong and emit the chill of the grave. The chill can cause mild frostburn when one is exposed to it for long stretches of time but more concerning is their high resistance to normal weapons. Their bodies are just animated husks so attacks to traditional weak spots barely work. The only ways to permanently dispatch them are total destruction of the body or major damage to the head."