The main road leading into Ridgeton was considerably smoother the closer Magnus and his party came to the town. Magnus sat in the middle of the cart, hand buried into his small leather satchel. He fingered the orb that pulsed slightly against his hand inside. He had initially forgotten about the orb he picked up off the body of the zealot. That was until he stood face to trunk with that arborous abomination in that last cavern. Magnus had never commanded such raw magical power. It felt as if he was merely a conduit for pure arcane energy to flow into this realm. The orb didn’t speak to him, not like that half-witted Beltayne and his supposedly slightly more intelligent sword. It also did seem to compel him into action either. The closest Magnus could describe it, only to himself, was that it wordlessly suggested exactly what he needed to do. He barely remembered walking up in front of the tree, extending his arms and allowing the orb to pulse with power that felt like it came directly from the realm of the arcane, Dominus.
Magnus gripped the orb and looked around at his companions, half of whom were asleep while the other half weren’t paying him any attention. He peered inside the bag, pure golden light emanating from the translucent glass, illuminating the satchel’s interior. He quickly released it, shut it tightly and held the bag close to his body. Thefolocious, as well as the Mages Guild, would surely want to examine this artifact. Magnus planned to write to his master when he returned to Ridgeton and tell him of the zealots, Lovadth, the dragon temple and the blighted tree creatures. He would send word of the temple's location for Guild members, or their proxies, to investigate. The discovery of a previously unknown temple and the wealth of knowledge contained in the library, would be a monumental first step in attaining Guild membership.
He wasn’t the fourth son of a lesser noble, all but guaranteed a position as a court wizard upon graduation. Living a life of luxury, attending feasts and council meetings. No, Magnus, while an oddity for being a dwarf, was the same as most of his former classmates, a commoner. Wizards had to scratch and claw their way in this world like everybody else. Releasing the artifact to the Guild would grant him favor with the Senatus Dominus, the Guild leadership. However, if he could unlock the full power and potential of this orb on his own, then the Guild would be begging him to join their ranks.
“I promise I am not going to steal your bag from you” Telerek whispered to Magnus, snapping him out of his daydreaming. He looked down and saw he was now clutching his satchel to his chest.
Magnus released his death grip on the bag and placed it between his legs. “Are we far out yet?” Magnus asked, quickly changing the topic.
“Aye, we should be back in Ridgeton before nightfall. We should speak with my uncle immediately upon our return. Try to keep your brother away from any taverns until then.” Telerek said with a grin before retreating to the front of the cart.
Magnus thought that he should probably begin drafting his letter to Thefolocious tonight, so that it could be taken by the courier in the morning. But, a few ales and a good night sleep in a soft bed was a temptation the wizard knew he would fall for.
The cart pulled into Ridgeton while the sun was setting behind Magnus and his companions. The wagon train stopped near a section of incomplete wall and several men rose from a campfire to begin unloading the wood from the other carts.
“If you all want to get paid for this little expedition of ours then I suggest you follow me” Telerek said to the party. Magnar and Beltayne picked up the pieces of the grotesque chitin they had brought with them, and everyone silently began walking with Telerek. Magnus opined that they all must have been exhausted, as not another word was said as the party walked down the newly cobbled streets of the town. Well, all except for Val, who was skipping next to her cousin and whistling loudly. Insufferable fool, Magnus thought to himself as he glared at the she elf.
“Ridgeton is a town in transition my friends” Telerek said after several silent minutes. “The streets are being widened and paved, stone buildings being erected and the wall surrounding it all will bring security like it has never seen,” Telerek continued. “Newly discovered salt mines to the south, along with an increase in piracy along old trade routes, have brought new wealth and opportunity to this once small collection of shacks by the sea.”
Magnus looked around and saw several multiple story stone buildings, half completed, all around him. Smoke was rising from several chimneys and forges, but the cool breeze from the sea made the town smell fresh and almost sweet. A stark difference to the streets of Eldrin City, where the smell of rotting shit was only washed away by the odor of thousands of bodies that hadn’t bathed in weeks.
“Ah, here we are” Telerek said stopping in front of a large three-story gray brick home. It was the middle structure in a small semi-circle of four other similar looking homes. Bright green grass occupied the spaces between the residences, with yellow, blue and red flowers planted along the edges where grass met the stone. Telerek walked to the great wooden door and knocked loudly. A few moments later the door opened and a young gnome woman, with bright blue hair pulled back into a bun, stood in front of the party with a welcoming smile on her face. Val screeched suddenly and lifted the gnome off the ground cradling her like a newborn child.
“Messy Tessy I missed you so much!” Val said as she ruffled the gnome woman’s hair. Magnus expected to see the gnomes’ smile turn to a grimace, but when Val put her down, she was smiling even wider.
“Oh great and powerful Val, do you come bearing any gifts for your humble servant?” The gnome said, bowing so low her nose brushed the floor.
“For my most faithful of followers, Tess, I bestow upon you this exotic mask, taken from a vanquished foe,” Val said as she pulled an item from the large bag she kept strapped to her back.
Magnus looked in horror as Val dropped one of the masks a zealot had been wearing in the cave into the outstretched hands of the gnome. The wooden mask was no longer glowing and was splattered with, presumably, the zealot’s own blood.
The gnome examined the mask for a moment before throwing it over the party’s heads and into the grass. “Yucky! This gift is not accepted oh great one. It is too hard and smells funny.” Val leaned against the door and laughed like she had never heard a joke so funny in her life. Magnus just rolled his eyes while thinking “pair of dimwitted fools.”
“Good to see you, Tess. You and Val will have to finish your games later, we have business with my uncle.” Telerek said.
Tess stopped laughing, smile fading as she glared at Telerek. She quickly fixed her hair and straightened out her green servant's dress. “Of course, master Telerek, right this way, you will find the lord of this manor in the dining hall taking his evening meal. I can escort you if you have forgotten the way,” Tess said in a calm, but serious tone.
Telerek led the party through the house. Magnus marveled at the deep red wooden floors and staircases, ornate silver candelabras and intricate plush rugs. The abject wealth contained within the walls of this home made Magnus feel like he may have been underpaid. After a few moments, the party emerged into a room at the rear of the residence with an obscenely long table that had been stained a dark brown. A fire roared in the hearth that lit the entire room up to the vaulted ceiling. Only two people, presumably Varloc and his wife, sat at one end of the table, several small plates of food in front of them.
“Ah, nephew! Words cannot express how happy I am to see you’ve returned,” Varloc said as he rose from his seat and walked towards the party. He was tall, and with lean muscles and wavy yellow hair that he let fall naturally. Varloc was wearing extremely loose white trousers and a blue silk vest exposing his hairless chest. As he approached Telerek and the rest, Magnus could smell oils and perfumes radiating from the elf. Varloc embraced his nephew in a long hug and kissed both of his cheeks softly, before turning to the company. “And these must be the rough rapscallions you told me were accompanying you.” Varloc said with a flourish of his arms. “So wonderful to meet you all, please come and sit. I will have the servants bring food and wine.” Varloc said before clapping loudly. An elderly woman, with a hunched back and wrinkled skin, emerged from the doorway the party had entered through. Varloc ran over to her on his tiptoes, arms swinging at his sides, and kissed her gently on both cheeks before resting a hand on her back. “Yaga, darling, would you please have the kitchens cook this brave and merry band a meal worthy of their courage. And enough wine for them to forget I ever mentioned paying them.” Varloc said with a chuckle, winking at Magnus.
“I live to serve” the crone servant said before shuffling out of the door.
Varloc giggled before saying, “That Yaga is a riot!”
Varloc skipped back to his chair as servants, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, brought chairs for the rest of the party. Magnus sat between Magnar—who had placed the carapace on the floor—and Kel’dhos. Telerek, Val and Beltayne sat on the other side of the long table, facing Magnus. “Oh, please, please, please, nephew tell me everything, I am dying to know every last detail,” Varloc said, resting his chin onto his open palms and staring at Telerek with a smile, golden earrings dangling from each lobe.
Magnus had been to several plays in multiple theaters in Eldrin City. He had never seen anyone, even actors, who were quite as theatric as Varloc.
An entire family of fools, then, Magnus thought as he leaned toward his brother. “Not quite what I expected out of a supposed titan of industry,” he whispered to Magnar.
“Coin is coin,” said Magnar. “But I think I understand the she elf a little better.”
Several plates of smoked meats, fish, bread, fruits and peppers were placed on the table. Everyone immediately began devouring the food while servants walked around the table refilling wine glasses as soon as they were empty. Telerek told an overly enthusiastic Varloc everything that happened to them since departing from Ridgeton.
“Magnificent. Absolutely magnificent!” Varloc exclaimed after Telerek finished his tale. Varloc then stood and bowed to his dinner guests. “You all have my gratitude and respect. I thank each and every one of you for seeing this matter through and allowing my business to continued unimpeded.” Varloc clapped again and two large servants entered the room. The servants dropped purses in front of the party, minus Beltayne, with the wonderful sound of coin on wood. “I do apologize my icy friend, but I would not be a very good businessman if I did not honor my contracts. And unfortunately your name did not appear on this particular contract. However, for assisting my nephew I offer the warmth of my hearth and comforts of my home.” Varloc said, raising his hands above his head before sitting back down.
Beltayne stood, looking confused. “Payment was never necessary, it was an honor to provide my blade and prowess to you all in your time of need.” He then appeared to talk to that damn sword of his before sitting down. Magnus rubbed his temples and lamented being surrounded by insufferable simpletons.
“Now do tell me, where do you plan to stay while in Ridgeton?” Varloc asked to the group.
“Before we left we had been having quite a time at a little watering hole called The Crow’s Nest,” said Magnar, shoveling a strip of beef into his mouth.
“Oh heavens no!” exclaimed Varloc. “I can’t have my brave heroes staying at such a dismal and drab establishment as The Crow’s Nest. I won’t hear of it. The hour is growing late. I shall have hot baths drawn and beds made here for all of you. Starting tomorrow I will have the finest suite at The Crown and Dragon rented out to you for the next week.” Varloc clapped once more. More servants appeared and began removing what was left of the food and escorting the party to another wing.
***
Magnus slid into the steaming hot water and let out a long sigh. The bath was so hot it almost hurt at first, but as soon as his body adjusted to the temperature, he felt the tension in his muscles release. He looked over at Magnar who had taken an entire jug of wine and was drinking directly from it. Kel’dhos had his head resting against the lip of his tub and his eyes closed. Beltayne was whispering, brow furrowed, at his sword, which he had laid across the tub. Telerek and Val had remained in the dining hall, speaking with Varloc. After the refreshing hot bath, Magnus was given fresh white robes with golden trim and shown to his room.
He stared at the writing desk and then at his bag, a faint golden light trickling out. Finally, his eyes were drawn to the four-post bed that dominated the room. The red and grey linens silently singing a siren’s song to him. No harm would come from delaying his letter to Thefolocious one more day. Magnus pulled his satchel into bed with him and surrendered himself to sleep.
***
Late morning Sunlight shown through a large window as Magnus opened his eyes. He pulled himself up out of bed and stretched his back. His blue robes were washed and folded on a small chest at the foot of the bed. Fresh undergarments, cut to his size, had been provided as well. Magnus quickly got himself dressed before walking downstairs. He found Beltayne and Magnar sitting in the dining hall eating boiled eggs and fresh bread with butter.
“Elf certainly knows how to host” Magnar said as he ate entire egg in one bite.
Magnus made himself a plate of several eggs, a large piece of bread with a healthy amount of butter and multiple different fruits. He sat down and said, “So what is our plan from here?”
Magnar wiped his mouth and swallowed. “Supposin’ I should go and get this bug body turned into proper armor. You boys wanting to come with me?”
Beltayne said nothing, but nodded in the affirmative.
“Might as well, I don’t know what else to do,” Magnus replied, happy to have anything to distract him from writing his master.
“Good, good. You finish eating, I’ll grab my things” Magnar said, rising from the table.
A short time later, the three of them were walking through the now bustling streets of the upper quarters of Ridgeton. The town had come to life with workers, merchants, and shoppers. The sounds of men shouting, women and children laughing, horses trotting and buildings being erected assaulted Magnus’ ears. The three had only been walking a little while before Magnar stopped in front of a stone building that was markedly older than the surrounding structures. Ivy grew along the outer walls and the stone was worn. A small sign hung above the door that read, “The Molten Oath.”
“Here we are, that Varloc told me this was the only blacksmith worth a damn in this town. Said he’s been up on this hill for half a century, something about forge fires and the wooden docks not being good lovers or some nonsense.” Magnar said, pushing open the doors, heat and smoke pouring out.
Magnus decided to stay outside, he had no interest in seeing Magnar fail at haggling for a lower price. He sat on a surprisingly comfortable stone bench beneath the burnt orange leaves of a nearby oak tree. Magnus pressed his hand into his satchel, just to make sure his orb was still inside. He felt a warmth and sense of relief wash over him as he gripped the entire relic in his palm. He closed his eyes and felt the power wash through him as a cool breeze blew over him. The more he thought about the matter the more resolute he was in his decision. He could not entrust something of this much power and magic to a simple-minded courier. No, Magnus would have to deliver this to Thefolocious and the Guild personally. He did still need to write that letter though. Magnus had just started getting out his quill and a piece of parchment when heard Magnar yelling.
“Damn thief, that’s what he is. Charging me every damn copper to my name to make a couple of cuts and pound a few pieces of insect together,” Magnar said as he walked over to his brother.
Beltayne smiled at the indignant dwarf. “Master Varloc did say he was the finest blacksmith in the Tameless Shore. That sort of reputation demands higher prices. It’s a matter of economics.”
“Go talk to your sword some more and don’t talk to me, especially about that effete elf with his womanly addiction to perfumes and ripping honest people off. He’s probably in leagues with that swindle of a blacksmith in there too. I swear if that isn’t the best armor I’ve ever put my hands on I’ll have Magnus burn that dilapidated pile of rocks he calls a forge to the ground!” Magnar yelled without taking a single breath.
Magnus put his quill away and stood up. “Not everything is a conspiracy against you brother. I remember you once saying that four separate shepherds had colluded to name you as the one stealing some of their stock,” said Magnus.
“Aye, they sure did. Went and told the clan elders and everything,” Magnar replied, his temper only seeming to grow with the memory.
Magnus stared blankly at his brother. “But you were the one stealing those sheep.”
“Yeah, but they didn’t all know that!” Magnar yelled.
Magnus smiled at his brother. “I have plenty of coin for the both of us brother. I am happy to pitch in my share for your armor.”
Magnar’s fury seemed to quell instantly and he wrapped his arm around his brother. “Alright then,” Magnar said with a grin. “Since you got coin burning a hole in your satchel. Why don’t we go out and celebrate our success tonight?”
Magnus knew exactly what that meant and also knew that he would need to write his letter today, for he doubted he would be able to get out of bed tomorrow. “Of course, you and me, brother. I just have to gather the rest of my things from Varloc's and send word to my Master in Eldrin City,” Magnus said. “Why don’t we all meet at those fancy rooms Varloc put us up in around time for supper. Then I shall show this little town what it really means to rage,” Magnar said with a grin.
Magnus entered his room in Varloc’s house and immediately sat at the writing desk. There would be no distractions or further procrastination, Magnus would draft this letter to his master and tell him of everything that happened in those caves. He got out his quill and ink, unrolled a parchment and set weights on the corners to keep it flat. Dipping his quill he began writing.
“To Master Thefolocious Flamehand, Third Chair of the Senatus Dominus, High Warden of the Draconic Circle and Keeper of the Arcane Flame.”
To wizards, your titles were as good as wealth, the more you gathered the more opportunity opened up to you. You earned titles by reaching ranks within Guild approved organizations or through great feats of magic. The feats, of course, had to be submitted to the Guild who would conduct a thorough investigation to see if a new title should be granted to the wizard applying. Most wizards worked their entire lives never garnering single title. However, those in high positions within the Guild or the Academy always seemed to have several.
Magnus blinked and realized that several hours had passed and he had not written a single other word on his parchment. Magnus had been turning the events of the past week over in his head again and again. Originally, he wanted to write a letter with as much detail as possible, emphasizing his masterful use of the arcane. However, as he sat down to actually draft his account, Magnus was much less motivated to extrapolate on his role in it all. Outside of a few moments, Magnus felt profoundly useless throughout the caves. Especially compared to his brother, Telerek, Beltayne and the rest. He would have been strangled by a sentient vine nearly instantly had it not been for Kel’dhos. Also, how could he possibly explain his actions against the haunting great tree without raising suspicions. Finally Magnus picked his quill back up and decided to write a quick and succinct message.
“I hope this letter finds you well. I was recently employed, along with a small group of companions, to investigate the disappearance of some laborers west of Ridgeton. About a days ride, by horse drawn wagon, from the town we discovered a cave where we unfortunately found the laborers. They had been diseased and mutated by what appeared to be a plague worshipping cult to Lovadth. My companions and I ended the source of this particular blight and in the process were able to uncover a hidden temple to Gerloctah. Underneath the temple there was a library, untouched by time or the cult. I believe this to be of great interest to the Guild and all who study the Arcane. I will be remaining in Ridgeton for a few weeks while I contemplate my next course of action if the need arises for you to contact me.”
Magnus then signed and sealed the letter. He gave it to the steward of Varlocs house, along with a few pieces of copper, who assured him he would have it sent by courier in the morning.
Magnus then left the grand manor behind and made his way to The Dragon and Crown. Walking into the inn, Magnus juxtaposed entering this place with when he first entered the Crow’s Nest. He had been so nervous to see his brother and start his life outside the protective walls of the Academy. The Crow’s Nest smelled of rancid ale and a lifetime of regret. Now he stepped into The Crown and Dragon excited to see his brother and the odor that escaped the polished walls of this inn were only of fresh flowers and baking bread.
Magnus saw Magnar and the rest of their party sitting at a table, all with drinks in front of them. Fools they may be, but they were his fools. They were all drifting through this life and had by pure chance drifted together. Tonight might mark the end of their time as companions, but Magnus was glad to have met them all.
As the wizard sat at the table Magnar pushed a mug of ale over to him. “Only been waiting for hours brother, we were just discussing where to celebrate our hard-fought victory tonight.” Magnar said.
“What’s wrong with celebrating right here?” Kel’dhos responded.
“Bah! This is far too high brow of an establishment for what we will be doing tonight small ears,” Magnar said while pulling out a small bag that gave off a sour smelling aroma.
“Oh brother, not Riot Flower,” Magnus said shaking his head.
Magnar let out a deep laugh before emptying his mug, grabbing the bag and standing. “Follow me lads, and Val. I scouted a few places earlier that will be more accommodating to our debaucheries,” he said.
The entire party polished off the rest of their drinks and followed Magnar down to the lower city near the docks until they arrived at a small, but well-maintained building. The sign out front read, “The Staggering Boar,” which sounded like the place may have been named for Magnar. The inside of the tavern was much larger than it appeared on the outside. There were several large tables, two separate hearths with fires roaring and a bard drunkenly singing off tune in one corner. Multiple busty barmaids, with their cleavage exposed, walked about with several full mugs in each hand. One came up to the party a few moments after they entered and leaned in close to Magnar as he whispered something before waving Magnus over.
“Here is my brother I told you about. He is the one with the coin,” Magnar said, smiling at Magnus. Magnus rolled his eyes and handed three silver coins to the barmaid who then led them to a long table next to one of the crackling hearths. The night quickly became a blur of smoke, singing, spilt ale and laughter.
***
Magnus heard a loud knocking that woke him. The wizard opened his eyes slowly as the light coming from the windows compounded the throbbing in his head. He looked down and discovered he was asleep on a rug, completely naked except for his satchel. He checked the inside quickly and was relieved when he felt the orb still inside. The knocking at the door continued and Magnus rubbed his temples as he stood up and looked around the room. It appeared to be a large suite and the entire party was inside. Kel’dhos was asleep in a large armchair, with what looked to be makeup on his face and his hair disheveled. Telerek was standing facing a wall, but Magnus thought he could hear him snoring. Val had assumed her panther form again and was laying at the foot of a bed, the sheets torn to shreds. Beltayne lay on the wooden floors, his sword on his chest and both hands on it like a king who had been placed in his sarcophagus. Only Magnar was asleep in a bed, fully clothed but with crushed Riot Flowers staining the sheets and empty mugs surrounding him.
The knocking at the door came again even louder. “We know you are all in there. Open the door immediately!” came a booming voice from outside the door.
Magnus shook his head and glanced around the room again. A charred rug was piled into one corner of the room, still slightly smoldering. Broken glass and ripped paintings decorated the floor.
“What in the Arcane did we do?” Magnus said to himself, trying his best to remember the night before.
More knocking.
“We will break this door down if none of you come out!” the voice said.
Magnus rushed to the door and opened it. Standing there was a man so large and tall the wizard had to crane his neck to look at him. His red scale armor and the red trident that was blazoned on his cloak gave the man an air of authority. The man looked Magnus up in down with a sneer on his face. Magnus suddenly remembered he was still nude and used his satchel to cover himself as best he could. The man eyed the room and his face grew more disgusted by the second.
“We are going to need you, all of you, to come with us. Now,” the man said, handing Magnus a letter.
Kel’dhos had suddenly woken up and quickly moved to stand next to Magnus. Magnus absently handed him the letter, looking at the armored man. “What is this about exactly?”
“It is not my place to say, but we need to depart immediately,” the man responded.
The sound of a loud crash came from behind Magnus and he turned around to see Magnar had jumped out of his bed and was trying to pry open a window.
“It’s no use dwarf, we have several men waiting outside!” the man yelled across the room to Magnar. The dwarf gave a sheepish smile and got down from the windowsill. The sneering man looked down at Magnus. “Put some damn clothes on, you are coming with us.”
End of Chapter Seven