by Jason Kenyon
‘You are very kind, sir,’ Neurion said.
‘Well, of course I am,’ Archimegadon said. ‘For I am Archimegadon!’
‘Pleased to make your acquaintance,’ Neurion said.
‘But one question, my good fellow,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Who runs this Paladin School? I’ve never heard of it.’
‘It only opened recently,’ Neurion replied ‘The Mage Order controls it, since the Paladin Order is too busy right now.’
‘Ah.’ Archimegadon decided not to pursue the matter.
There was a commotion at the far side of the bar as a fight appeared to break out. Archimegadon was a little perturbed but not very surprised. These sort of things tended to happen, and besides, he was well-equipped to deal with drunken fools. He reached for the Staff of Antagules.
‘Bad crowd,’ Neurion said. ‘Think we should leave?’
‘In a minute,’ Archimegadon replied, pondering another drink. ‘I would like to complete my other quest quickly, of course, but I need to rest after my titanic duel with the Shadow.’
‘Oh yes, I understand,’ Neurion said. He frowned. ‘I was kind of looking forward to battling such a mighty beast.’
‘You’ll manage, I’m sure,’ Archimegadon said.
‘What was your other quest, anyway?’ Neurion asked. ‘I hope I am not interfering…’
‘I need to make a simple delivery to Melethas,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Since it is your destination I see little reason to be concerned.’
The brawl continued, and it sounded like a few chairs were being used to pacify the fighters. Archimegadon resisted to urge to cast a flamebolt. Neurion looked increasingly more terrified, but Archimegadon wasn’t particularly worried about that.
The thought of a thousand relorans, however, kept knocking on Archimegadon’s skull, and he decided to skip the drink for now. ‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘I think I have rested long enough.’
Neurion nodded and rose to leave. As he did so three men forced him to sit down next to Archimegadon, and pulled a somewhat battered Elsim over to the table and brandished him at the pair as though he was a sword.
‘This man claims that you have the amulet,’ the lead man, a large fellow with a red beard, said. ‘I suggest you hand it over.’
‘My good sir, would you kindly remove this bloodied thing from my table?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘Please, Archimegadon, give them the amulet,’ Elsim said. ‘It isn’t worth it.’
‘Silence, oaf!’ Archimegadon said. ‘I have no foolish amulets. A mage such as myself has no need for pompous affectations!’
‘You’re wearing a fancy dress,’ one of the thugs said.
‘It is a robe, imbecile!’ Archimegadon said. ‘In any case, your leader here has clearly spent a while on that ponytail.’
The red-bearded thug put a hand to his hair defensively.
‘Enough of this,’ Archimegadon went on. ‘I am a powerful mage, not a dealer in jewellery. If you desire amulets, then I suggest you look elsewhere.’
‘This man says he hired you,’ the lead thug said.
‘I turned down his cheap offer,’ Archimegadon said. ‘I work for money, not bird seed. I have been hired by Neurion here.’
Neurion didn’t quite know what to do, so he applied his usual habit of smiling and waving at the mention of his name. The lead thug glared at him until he withered.
‘Do you think I will believe what you say?’ the lead thug asked. ‘I want the amulet now.’
‘This is hardly subtle thievery,’ Archimegadon said. ‘It would be more effective if you did it in silence, in secret and possibly stole from the person who actually has the object in question. I suggest that you go away, sit down and think over how poor a thief you are. I advise you then use your spare time to think of how a proper thief would operate.’
The three thugs looked at each other, and then one reached out and grabbed Archimegadon’s robe. Ignoring Archimegadon’s spluttered outrage, the thug patted the mage down and then shook his head at his leader.
‘He’s got nothing on ‘im,’ the thug said, and then he blinked as he noticed a little flame sigil on Archimegadon’s robes that indicated that he had graduated from a Mage School.
‘Oh. Sir!’ He nudged his leader. ‘I think he’s from one of them Mage Schools.’
The lead thug noticed the sigil too and sighed. ‘Damn it. Carry on with your drink, mage.’ He glared at Elsim. ‘I think you’d better tell me where the amulet actually is.’
The thugs started to leave, but Elsim looked back at Archimegadon one last time. ‘Please! They’re going to kill me!’
‘You will get over it,’ Archimegadon said.
‘Curse you!’ Elsim howled, but the lead thug hit him over the head and he fell limp. The thugs dragged him away.
Archimegadon rose to leave. ‘Time to go,’ he said to Neurion.
‘Was that your other job?’
‘No, I turned it down,’ Archimegadon lied. ‘Now hurry up! We have a quest to complete.’
Neurion nodded. ‘I have a good feeling about this. I think this partnership is going to work out great.’
‘Indeed,’ Archimegadon said, weary of this fool already.
Oh well, it was only a couple of days to Melethas, and then he could rid himself of this paladin knave. If he was lucky, he could get shot of the paladin today. Well, there was nothing for it except to put up with Neurion for the time being.
Besides, if nothing else, Neurion made for a good hiding place. Archimegadon quietly lifted the amulet from Neurion’s pocket while the young paladin was watching for where the thugs had gone. ‘Got nothing on ‘im’ indeed!
He glanced around for Mortimyr and his companions one last time, but they were nowhere in sight. It didn’t really matter now, of course, since he was going to make a lot more money in a couple of days without them than he would have in years following them around. Taking up the Staff of Antagules, he stepped onto the Central Way and began his two quests.
*
‘Are you sure we should’ve let ‘im go?’ one of the thieves asked once they had left the tavern. Elsim had been slung over the leader’s shoulder.
‘They’re all idiots at the Mage Schools,’ the lead thug replied. ‘A few relorans and you’re a mage. Can’t trust ‘em with anything. If Elsim really hired that Arkermechadon then he’s a true idiot.’
‘So what are we going to do?’
‘Arkermechadon was the only guy Elsim spoke to,’ the leader said. ‘My money is… well, I hear they sometimes swallow things to hide ‘em.’
‘So what’re we gonna do? Wait ‘til it goes out the other end?’
‘We’ll give this fella a few drinks and speed stuff up,’ the leader said.
‘And if he hasn’t swallowed it?’
‘Then we’ll have to check out this Arkermechadon after all.’
Chapter Three: Remains
‘Wow,’ Neurion said. ‘This is incredible! It’s like a demonic arena in the pits of Hell itself! You must have looked magnificent.’
Archimegadon and his newfound follower had arrived at the Shadow’s platform, and it seemed to have excited the paladin somewhat. Patience fading by the moment, Archimegadon tolerated Neurion’s tedious remarks by blanking them out and nodding in response to everything instead. He did not much care for returning here, although the memory of the two vallins he had earnt brought him a certain amount of satisfaction. That in turn reminded him that he was due to earn an amount that dwarfed that figure, and he nearly did a little jig.
Fortunately for the world at large Archimegadon chose not to dance, but instead he stood at the centre of the platform looking like the powerful mage he professed to be. He cast his gaze over the arena but could find little sign of the Shadow’s remains. Apparently that spell of Gelenn’s had removed all trace of the battle, excepting the bizarre arena.
‘I’m so disappointed that I missed it,’ Neurion said. ‘What spell did you use to destroy it?’
&
nbsp; ‘Flamebolt,’ Archimegadon replied.
Neurion stared. ‘Whoa, you’re that powerful? I thought flamebolt was the most basic offensive spell a mage learnt. You must really be something if you would kill off a demon with that!’
Archimegadon glared at his companion. He couldn’t tell half the time whether Neurion was sarcastic or just dim. Neurion remained quite oblivious to Archimegadon’s demeanour and instead knelt down at the edge of the platform, staring into the ooze.
‘I bet it would hurt if you fell in there,’ he said. ‘Wonder what the ooze is. Perhaps it’s the effect such creatures have on water.’
‘Quite.’
Archimegadon was getting very bored. Perhaps it was time to think about collecting those five vallins, not that they would be worth much compared to his imminent prize. He rapped on Neurion’s head with the Staff of Antagules.
‘Ow.’ The paladin looked up and grinned. ‘Sorry sir, it’s just all so incredible.’
Archimegadon resisted the urge to boot the over-enthusiastic fool into the ooze. ‘I see no sign of the beast. I believe that my finishing spell may just have finished it completely.’
‘That must have been quite a flamebolt.’
‘Yes. It was.’
‘Oh, wait, there’s some people coming,’ Neurion said. ‘Perhaps they want to thank you for what you did.’
Archimegadon looked up and saw three people advancing from the direction of the farm. One of them was quite clearly the oafish Obdo. He frowned and tried to think of an excuse suitable for a paladin.
‘We’d better go quickly. A hero does not force people to thank them. One must stave off those things that might increase a mage’s sense of pride. Pride is something we must avoid at all costs.’
‘Ah yes,’ Neurion said with a nod. ‘It says that in the Paladin’s Manual.’
Archimegadon wanted to hurry away before Obdo arrived to spoil his reputation, but he could not help but question this. ‘Manual?’
‘Yes, we got given a little handbook of the Paladin’s Code,’ Neurion replied. ‘Then we were allowed to sign up for courses.’ He smiled proudly. ‘I signed up for all of them. I must be the most skilled paladin of the bunch.’ Then he scratched his head. ‘Mind you, I couldn’t afford the advanced training courses after all that.’
In other words, Neurion was useless at everything. Archimegadon shrugged. He hadn’t expected anything of the fellow anyway. And it was time to leave, not to chat about paladins and their knavish ways. ‘Let us be off,’ he said.
‘Archimegadon!’ Obdo shouted.
The mage in question swore under his breath in a most non-wise and not quite noble way. ‘Obdo, my good fellow,’ he said.
‘I have another quest for you!’ Obdo said, arriving with his friends at the centre of the platform.
‘Ah, excellent,’ Archimegadon said, wondering whether he could get another two vallins out of this fool.
‘Yeah,’ Obdo said. He chucked a grob at Archimegadon’s feet. ‘That’s your fee for clearing off. Go on, go away.’
Neurion stepped forwards, drawing his sword, and the three farm folk huddled together in sudden panic. ‘This man has done you a great service,’ Neurion said. ‘I suggest that you retract your words and show him due gratitude.’
‘This is due gratitude,’ Obdo said, although he looked a little less bold under the threat of Neurion’s sword of greater rust. ‘This so-called mage let three other guys kill the beast here and pretended he did it.’
‘Oaf, did you not see my spell hit it?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘Now I’m no mage,’ Obdo said, ‘although my cousin Albarte here is an official one.’ One of the other farmhands, a squat bearded fellow, grinned and waved his hand, and Archimegadon was reminded of Neurion. Perhaps the fools were related. ‘I may be no mage, I say, but I know a flamebolt spell when I see one. And I’ll be damned if I’ve ever seen a flamebolt create a vortex.’
Neurion stared at Archimegadon in shock.
‘What?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘You can create vortexes with your flamebolts?’ Neurion asked in return. ‘Mixing magic like that is the province of the most powerful mages! Why, you must be a true master!’
Archimegadon and the three farmhands shared a disgusted look.
‘Neurion, please shut up,’ Archimegadon said.
‘Yes, master,’ Neurion said with reverence.
‘What brings you here, anyway?’ Archimegadon asked of Obdo, determined to reclaim control of the conversation. ‘Up to a bit more closet necromancy?’
‘Necromancy?’ Neurion asked.
‘Now see here,’ Obdo said. ‘I am not a necromancer!’
Archimegadon looked around the arena and then back at Obdo. ‘I see no evidence to the contrary.’
‘But…’
‘I am sure the farmer who employs you would like to be informed.’
‘You…’
‘Necromancy is a very serious crime.’
‘Arc…’
‘It may even result in execution.’
Obdo looked to his companions for assistance, but they seemed a little concerned.
‘I am not a necromancer!’ he said in a shrill voice.
‘Only a true necromancer would deny being a necromancer,’ Archimegadon said, nodding sagely. The two other farmhands murmured in agreement.
‘What?’ Obdo slapped the back of Albarte’s head. ‘That doesn’t even make sense, you two.’
‘But he’s a mage, he must be very wise,’ Albarte said.
‘Well, you’re a mage,’ Obdo said, ‘but I wouldn’t say you were.’
‘Hey, you’d better watch it,’ Albarte said. ‘I could burn you away, necromancer boy.’
‘Quite right,’ Archimegadon said.
Neurion nudged Archimegadon. ‘Hey, do you think I should kill him?’ he asked. ‘I mean, I’m a paladin. It’s sort of my job.’
‘Don’t worry, I will deal with this,’ Archimegadon replied. The last thing he needed was for Neurion to try killing Obdo. Especially if the dull farmhand really was a necromancer, and a proper fight broke out. ‘What are you here for anyway, children?’
‘We were here to collect more trophies,’ Obdo replied, glaring at his companions. ‘There isn’t much left, but the head at least was lying about. We were arguing over who should get the creature’s head, so I suggested that we find more bits of the creature and divide it up like that.’
‘You have the creature’s head?’ Neurion asked.
Obdo nodded.
‘Aha,’ Archimegadon said. ‘My necromantic fellow, I have this suggestion. To prove that you have revoked your dark sorceries, perhaps you would care to hand over the beast’s head?’
‘Not really,’ Obdo replied.
‘Kill him,’ Archimegadon told Neurion.
The paladin nodded and strode forwards, his sword held aloft in a gesture that might have looked intimidating but actually left him wide open. Obdo cowered, though, and held up his hands in surrender.
‘You can have the Shadow’s head, sir,’ he said. ‘I’m no necromancer, me. Just a simple farmhand. Go and get the head, you two.’
The two other farmhands rushed away and Archimegadon smiled. Once again he had triumphed over the forces of evil. Neurion looked disappointed; he had probably wanted to kill a necromancer, since he had missed out on defeating the Shadow. Archimegadon decided to let Neurion have a crack at any minor beasties they encountered, if only to stave off any whining.
The three of them stood there shiftily, each of them casting suspicious glares about. Neurion glared at Obdo the possible necromancer, Obdo glared at Archimegadon, who had put him in this situation, and Archimegadon glared at both of them, the fools. It was a relief when the other two arrived, but they were having trouble carrying the Shadow’s head, a blackened lizard-like visage dripping with demon blood, between them. Archimegadon had forgotten that it was rather large.
‘You must be some sort of legend,’ Neurion said
. ‘With a head that big it must have been a giant!’
‘It was a little oversized,’ Archimegadon said, his mind elsewhere. Somehow they had to take that thing all the way to Melethas, and he was trying to work out how to do it sensibly.
The two farmhands dumped it on the platform, and thick blood oozed from the Shadow’s wounds. Obdo’s mouth quirked into a little smile.
‘There you are, sir,’ he said. ‘Have fun carrying it wherever you’re off to.’
Archimegadon considered the problem and arrived at a solution. ‘I believe that a suitable penance is required for this necromancer,’ he said. ‘Neurion, if the execution is not given, must repentance not be attained via an act of selflessness?’
‘That is correct,’ Neurion replied. He held up the manual to the three farmhands. ‘I’m a paladin,’ he said in a conspiratorial tone. They didn’t look too impressed.
‘I command you, Obdo, to carry this head for us as we journey to Melethas,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Once we have carried out our duties there you shall be released from this bond.’
‘What?’ Obdo turned to his companions. ‘Oh, come on. You don’t believe this garbage, do you?’
‘It’s for your own good, Obdo,’ Albarte replied.
‘I don’t believe this,’ Obdo said. He pointed a finger at Archimegadon. ‘You mark my words, I’ll have revenge for this.’
‘Then you will be for the chop,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Pick that thing up and let’s go.’ He nodded to the other farmhands. ‘Give my regards to Farmer Belias.’
‘Yes, Master Archimegadon,’ the farmhands said in chorus.
‘I hate you,’ Obdo said as he lifted the Shadow’s head and rested it on his shoulders. ‘You stupid half-rate mage bastard.’
‘Charming.’ Archimegadon signalled to Neurion. ‘To Melethas then. Let us go!’
‘We could hire a cart,’ Obdo said.
‘This is more penance-like,’ Archimegadon said. It would also be somewhat cheaper; he was loathe to start spending money when he was currently involved in trying to make some.
The three wandered back onto the Central Way, attracting various bemused looks from other travellers who couldn’t help but notice the giant demon head that was oozing all over the unfortunate Obdo. Archimegadon enjoyed the attention, especially since it was probably annoying or embarrassing Obdo. He turned in the direction of Melethas and breathed in deeply. Never had he had so much fun as he had today.