Mud and Magic Ch. 05

"Lovely," Hilgrun snarled. "And not a single paladin around when you need one. Anything else?"

"Carver sees them as important assets so you better assume his clerics have magical items to bolster their offense and defense. And I don't have to tell you to be wary of his usual troops. If you can, make sure to take out the clerics first then the foot soldiers."

Rhys raised his hand again. "And you really want me and Lishaka on the front lines?"

Thurguz raised an eyebrow. "Getting cold feet, lad?"

Rhys shook his head. "I'm just wondering what use we can be. This sounds like a much more dangerous mission than the last one."

A large, clawed hand closed around his shoulder. Painful sparks of energy jumped from the claws and dispersed over his chest. Borna's cheek touched his. "That's why I'm coming along. I'll keep you safe, promise."

Rhys gulped audibly. "All... all right."

"You will do just fine," Thurguz boomed, an encouraging smile on his lips. His tusks gleamed in the magical illumination. "Repeat what you've done at the toll station, only this time stay in spellcasting range, not close combat."

"I'll try."

"With that said, this briefing is over. I'll see everyone in the Entrance Hall first thing in the moring." Thurguz stepped away from the lectern and handed everyone a small, square piece of cloth. "Keep that under your pillows tonight."

Rhys turned it this way and that. To him, it looked like a small, embroidered part of an apron. "What is this?" he asked Galdor.

The blonde dwarf grinned. "That's Thurguz insurance no one sleeps in. You will find out what it is soon enough and curse the old man's guts for it."

* * * *

After the briefing, Rhys returned to his room and fetched the bag of spoils from the previous mission. His next stop was Idunn's room. Hesitating for just a moment, he nevertheless knocked.

"Yes?" Idunn sounded almost relieved.

Rhys opened the door and entered. "Sorry for the intrusion. I know it's late and we should catch what little sleep we can."

Her room was not what he had expected. Idunn was always very serious and focused so Rhys had expected a meticulously organized, maybe even barren chamber. Instead, the room was comfy, with plush armchairs, dark-stained wood furniture and shelves upon shelves of books, scrolls and other, more arcane items. Idunn, wearing a white, lacy nightshirt with a low neckline and her hair unbound, looked at him in surprise. Rhys lowered his gaze when he realized he was openly admiring her cleavage.

"I was expecting Thurguz," she said. "Got a problem with my outfit?"

"Me? Uh, no. It... it suits you."

"I thought as much, going by your roaming gaze."

Rhys blushed furiously. "Sorry. I didn't mean to stare. Or to interrupt anything."

Idunn laughed. "You didn't. As you can see, our tireless leader hasn't seen fit to join me yet. Besides, if you feel you have to ambush me in the middle of the night then it has to be urgent. What can I help you with?" She bound her hair with a simple ribbon.

Rhys dug the wands from his bag and held them out to her. "I figured that these might come in handy tomorrow. I haven't found any books teaching the use of wands or staves though. Can you help me?"

A smile lit up her face. "Usually, students are more than happy if they don't have to suffer my lectures. Let's see." She took the wands and inspected the runes scratched into the handles. "Yes, very useful indeed. Fireball and Sleep are good choices for crowd control." Idunn handed him the wands. "Save the charges on these for when you need them. I have some training wands around here."

Rhys stowed his wands away while Idunn rummaged through one of her shelves. She returned with a plain wand of her own and handed it to him. Rhys looked at the handle. The word 'light' was engraved into the wood.

"You can think of a wand as a storage device of sorts. The creator has imbued it with a certain amount of spell energy, already formulated to produce a particular effect. As you have seen, this one produces a light source when used," Idunn patiently explained. Had she not worn her revealing nightie, Rhys could have sworn they were back in one of the training rooms.

"Is it true that even people without magical abilities can use them?" Rhys asked. The wand hummed in his hand, not unlike the power sources he was by now used to tapping.

"Yes and no. One would need training and a certain affinity for magic to convince a wand to cooperate. You can't slap this into Joe the farmer's hand and hope that he can light our darkest hour. Why do you ask?"

"I have seen Chassari use one," Rhys said, blushing.

Idunn grinned viciously. "Our scaled envoy has many hidden talents. That's exactly why I want her by my side when we visit the Dark Order tomorrow. Now, the wand. Have you noticed?"

"You mean that it acts much like a power source, right?"

"Yes. The spell within is already primed, ready to manifest in the direction the wand is pointing. All it needs is a little nudge. Try it."

Rhys pointed the wand at a shelf and concentrated. A little nudge, eh? He caught a tiny strand of power and joined it with the wand's handle. The wand seemed to twitch in his fingers and a plume of warm, golden light lit up Idunn's shelf.

"Like that?" Rhys asked.

"Absolutely. You should keep a firm grasp on the wand or your aim might be off, which could pose a problem with spells requiring a certain degree of precision. But for Fireball or Sleep, the general direction shall do. Just make sure none of your allies is in the area of effect."

"Anything else I should know?"

"Yes. Wands have only a limited supply of energy. Especially with loot such as yours, expect to run out sooner than later."

Rhys held out the wand to Idunn. "Thank you for the impromptu lesson."

Idunn shook her head. "Keep it. Practice. And don't get killed tomorrow." She closed her fingers around his hand and squeezed it. "And now, off to bed with you."

"Good night, Idunn." Rhys turned to leave and opened the door. Thurguz, paw on the handle, raised an eyebrow.

"Do I want to know?" the towering half-orc asked sternly.

"Nothing to be concerned about," Rhys said, showing his loot bag. "Just some last-minute instructions."

Thurguz snorted and slapped Rhys' back as he scurried past. "You should have seen your face, lad. Sleep tight."

* * * *

The next morning came and Rhys was woken by an incessant, persistent ringing. Groaning, he dug around under his pillow and found the small fabric square Thurguz had given him after the briefing. It rang like a bell and finally Rhys understood how the maids knew when someone rang for them. Their aprons had to be enchanted similar to the fabric he now held. Touching it had attuned the fabric to him and now he could hear Thurguz yanking on a bell pull, probably with a smug smile on his tusked face.

Rhys cursed the old half-orc and dropped the ringing piece of cloth onto his nightstand before dragging himself out of bed and into the bathroom to clean up. When he returned to his room proper, shaved and more awake after some cold water to the face, Sen was there, placing his customary oatmeal and milk breakfast onto his table.

"Good morning," Sen said. She even did a little bow. A furtive smile tugged at the edges of her mouth as she watched him dress in his traveling gear.

"Morning," Rhys said, sitting down. "How are you today?"

"Jealous." She gnashed her teeth but the usual vitriol was missing from her voice. "I want to be out there with you, killing Carver's men."

"From what I've learned, this mission is not about killing Carver's henchmen but about making sure his clerics don't raise more undead."

Sen smirked. "And to do that, you'll most likely have to kill the buggers doing the raising." She made a stabbing motion with her hand. "The fewer clerics of Desire around, the better for everyone."

"I can't argue with that," Rhys said around a mouthful of oatmeal. "Hopefully, this time I don't end up close to death."

"If it's any help, I'm crossing my fingers for you." She clapped his shoulder and left.

* * * *

A few minutes later, Rhys arrived at the Entrance Hall on the tower's ground floor. He shook his head. I've lived more than a month here already and never seen it.

Two corridors radiated off from the high-vaulted space on opposite sides and a large double door probably led to the outside. The smell of roasting meat and baking bread wafted from one of the corridors, making Rhys' mouth water. It was markedly cooler than further upstairs, despite all the people gathered here. He saw every student, Zentam, Yukio, Sen and two large men he hadn't met yet.

"Rhys, over here!" Galdor called. The dwarf waited next to the double doors, with a cloaked Borna fidgeting close by.

"Good morning," Rhys said as he reached them. "Don't tell me I'm the last one."

"Nah, Idunn, Hagazz and Thurguz haven't shown up either."

Rhys looked Borna up and down. "You know, as far as disguises go, this isn't doing much." Her cloak covered up most of her deformities but it couldn't hide everything. To Rhys, it looked like Borna was carrying half a tent with her. And the agitated scratching of her tail on the floor didn't help either.

"I know," she rasped. "Besides, it's restricting my mobility and it's itchy all over." She exhaled, a low, rumbling sound. "But raising a few eyebrows beats people running away screaming when I'm only wearing my loincloth." She reached over her shoulders and pulled up a hood. Her eyes gleamed in an ominous yellow from its shadow.

"Who are the two men standing with the maids?" Rhys asked.

"The bald one is Merrick the cook and the one fondling the pommel of his sword is his brother Eric, the porter. I'm wondering why they are here as well," Galdor explained.

"Ah, Rhysss." Chassari joined them, smiling. "And Galdor too. Jussst the men I wanted to sssee." The purple-scaled envoy wore an elaborate black and white robe today, held around her waist by a broad sash. Rhys wasn't quite sure if the embroidery showed black crows on white or swans on black. Chassari's constantly moving body caused the garment to flow incessantly, lending an eerie semblance of life to the birds stitched into its fabric.

"We don't have time for your antics," Borna growled from under her hood.

"I won't be long, promise," Chassari said, very friendly despite Borna's hostility. She turned to Rhys. "I jussst wanted to wish you luck. Don't die out there, you hear?"

"That's ominous," Rhys muttered.

Chassari offered a bright smile. "I only wish for your safe return. And of course a naughty victory celebration afterwardsss." She hugged him enthusiastically and kissed him, straight on the lips.

Squeezing his shoulders one last time, she slipped away from Rhys, bent down and did the same to Galdor. The dwarf harrumphed, brushed his short hair and slapped her butt. "Don't make such a big fuss about it, you're scaring the lad."

"Hey, I want some of that too!" Lishaka cawed. With her traveling cloak flapping behind her, she dashed right into Rhys' arms, looking up at him with bright eyes. "Good luck out there," she purred.

"You too," Rhys said, fondly hugging the wriggling goblin. He bent down and placed a big smooch on her wide lips. "Come back in one piece. I'm not quite done with you yet."

Lishaka raised one eyebrow. "Oooh, I like it when you're taking charge of little ol' me." She bumped her hips against his thigh. "Victory celebration?"

"Maybe. Depends in what kind of shape I'm in when I come back." Rhys said.

"This looks fun," Elara chirped, dragging Hilgrun along with her. "Room for two more?"

"Leave me out of this," Hilgrun muttered. She had upgraded her armor since last Rhys had seen her in it. Her breastplate was new and she wore a broad, lavishly decorated belt around her hips. Even from halfway across the room, Rhys could feel the unmistakable hum of power emanating from her. Enchanted gear?

Elara dragged her into the growing tangle. "Don't be like that. We could all use a little hug. Even you, oh fierce warrior-princess." The elven druid giggled merrily and flung her arms around Rhys' neck. "Safe travels." Her hand brushed Rhys' crotch. "And save some of that for me." Their lips met in a gentle kiss.

"Seriously," Hilgrun complained. "Haven't you had enough last night?"

"Oh Hilgrun," Elara sighed over-dramatically. "As talented as you are with your tongue and fingers..." Whatever she wanted to say ended in a helpless giggle.

"Yeah, whatever." Hilgrun raised her fist. "We are battle-bound after all. May your battle end in glorious victory."

Rhys slithered from Lishaka's and Elara's embrace and bumped his fist against hers. "I'm honored. Death to your enemies. Or the like."

Instead of a snarl, a complaint or a snide remark, Hilgrun placed her gauntleted hand on his shoulder and just nodded, a much-too-fleeting smile on her usually stern features. "They will rue the day they angered us," she said, squeezing his shoulder. "Don't die."

"No one will die today if I can help it." Everyone turned to face Thurguz, coming down the stairs with Idunn and Hagazz in tow. All three of them looked ready for a serious battle. Thurguz wore a set of richly embroidered robes and metal bracers, carrying a long, gnarled staff and a book while his grisly, serrated axe dangled from his belt. Idunn looked almost drab in comparison to him, a simple dark robe and a golden amulet instead of her teacher's garb. She carried a stout wooden chest on her arms. Hagazz was the most obviously armed. Instead of his customary open vest and loose pants he wore a sleek black bodysuit, over which he had a blackened chain shirt and a short cloak. Criss-crossing knife belts ran over his chest, a pair of gauntlets dangled from his belt and the hilt of a sword was visible over his shoulder.

Thurguz beamed. "Glad to see you all in such a fine mood, because things won't be easy from here on out."

Rhys looked around in wonder while Thurguz made some quick announcements. He was surrounded by so many people who actually wished him well. It was such a strange feeling, so entirely different from what he had felt all the years before. Even if Hilgrun was gruff and Borna scary as all hell, they didn't hate him like his brothers and father had done. I really could get used to this, Rhys thought, pulling Lishaka close once more, listening to the huge half-orc.

"Now, Eric and Merrick. I have activated the tower's defenses. Two golems are patrolling the perimeter and the gargoyles have woken. You know what to do should someone get in here?"

"Yes, Master," Eric said. "Go into the dungeon and release... the thing." He shuddered. "Let's hope the guardians outside are enough. It gives me the willies."

"Don't forget to bring the holy symbol. You don't want to end up as its first snack," Idunn admonished him. "Now, Chassari, Zentam, Elara. To me please."

"What's in the dungeon?" Rhys asked.

Thurguz joined them. "You're better off not knowing yet, lad. Ready for your first visit to Storm Harbor?"

* * * *

This time, there was no dizziness after the teleport spell had yanked them halfway across the Western Continent. But Rhys' stomach did a few somersaults the moment he could take in his surroundings. After the relative peace and quiet of the tower, the masses of people thronging in front of Storm Harbor's Land Gate were a shock. The huge city wall towered at least thirty feet over him. The main gate fortification was even taller than that, a triple-towered structure more akin to a mountain than anything made by man.

And I thought the toll post was busy! In front of them, the road was packed with travelers trying to get into the city. Rhys tried to count and quickly gave up. There had to be more people trying to get through that gate than there were people living in his old village! Dozens of wagons pulled by horses, oxen or even large lizards, often flanked by squads of armed men and women wearing colorful tabards over their armors denoting their allegiance to any number of mercenary bands or feudal lords. Rhys recognized some of them from his studies on the politics of the Western Continent, like Valcrest's rampant unicorn on a green leaf or the grinning, one-eyed goblin skull of the Green Skinners mercenary band. Despite the sheer number of people trying to get into the city, the Watch efficiently processed every wagon, every caravan. It helped that there were at least two dozen members of the City Watch out here, easily recognizable by the light gray cloaks and white tabards with a proud sailing ship on their chests. At least another dozen manned the turrets around the Land Gate, with longbows and crossbows at the ready. People talked and argued in a bewildering number of accents and languages, mixed in with the braying of donkeys or the snarling of lizards. It was a barely controlled pandemonium.

He tugged on Thurguz' sleeve. "May I have a word, Master?"

"Of course. What's on your mind?"

"I didn't expect there to be this many people. Was there a recent disaster nearby or something?"

Thurguz chuckled amicably. "Not that I'm aware of. It's just another busy Storm Harbor morning." He pointed to a large expanse of flattened earth, with the remnants of a bonfire in its midst and several logs around it. "Looks to me like two or three caravans arrived here at the same time after nightfall. Storm Harbor closes its doors once the sun sets and late arrivals have to sit out the night here. Now they're all trying to get in at the same time."

"They let late arrivals rot out here? Seems a bit harsh."

"Well, the city insists it's perfectly safe out here, with the gathering place in crossbow range from the top of the wall and all the escorting mercenaries around."

"They simply never notice the muggings, the stabbings and the drunken arguments when tired and irritated mercenaries have to sit out in the cold while the Watchmen are sleeping in their comfy beds," Galdor added. "They insist locking the gates at night helps with keeping the city safe."

Borna laughed hoarsely. "There are more ways in and out of the city than this gateway," she said. "When I still lived here, there were more than enough stories of dark elven scouts skulking the streets at night or criminals vanishing without a trace."

"Why didn't we simply teleport into the city, close to where your contact is?" Rhys asked Thurguz.

"Two reasons," the half-orc said, gliding past a knot of ratkin arguing with two Watchmen. "The city has wards placed around the outer wall impeding teleportation. A leftover from the days when some of the Founding Houses were justifiably concerned with magical assassins teleporting in. I'm pretty sure they're badly maintained, if at all, but I prefer a quiet arrival to some mishap like you appearing inside the road from the waist down. Also, it never hurts to walk a bit, take in the general atmosphere, maybe pick up a few bits of gossip or a clue."

"Also, with all that commotion, I bet hardly anyone noticed our arrival," Galdor added.

They had by now reached the main gate. The central archway was cordoned off by two portable barricades which narrowed the street down to a single lane. In front of them, a large wagon covered with a patched tarp was checked by three Watchmen, while a fourth, bearing some kind of rank insignia on his shoulder waited with a fidgeting old man at his side, eyeing the proceedings.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, sir," one of the Watchmen said, sloppily saluting. "No contraband, just bales of fabric."

"I told you," the old man said, exasperated. "I've made this trip for the past thirty years, and still I get shaken down like I'm a dirty dark elf!"

"Can't be too careful, sir," said the senior officer. "Now, since everything is in order, please remove your vehicle. You're obstructing traffic. You don't want me to fine you, do you?"