Theft, Murder, and Crystals

by Benjamin Duke

  “I’m fine,” Samuel grunted. He took a deep breath and steadied himself, taking his hand off the wall and standing up straight. His heart began to pound a little, as he realized the precarious situation, he had placed himself in. He dug his hand into his pouch pocket, looking for a knife, but found nothing.

  “You don’t look fine,” the man said. “Does he look fine to you?” he asked, turning to face his companion. It was too dark for Samuel to be able to make out who the other person was.

  “No,” came a deep, gravelly voice. “Not fine.”

  “You hear my friend? He says you look not fine,” the man said as he pointed to the figure beside him. Samuel realized that the man’s companion wasn’t a human, but rather was a Stonemar, commonly referred to as rockmen. The Stonemar was almost nine feet tall, with deep yellow eyes that seemed to glow.

  “Maybe we can take you home, for a small fee, of course,”

  Samuel grunted at that. “If you’re here to mug me, just say it. I’m too buzzed for all this wordplay.”

  “There’s a smart lad,” the mugger said. “Your gold, all of it. I was watching you spend quite a bit of cash at the bar there. Then you just wandered into this alley, making this far too easy.”

  “I’m broke, don’t got nothing,” Samuel lied.

  “Sure, you don’t, all that jingling is the rocks you keep in your pockets,” the mugger replied. “Look, there’s the easy way, which involves you throwing us your purse, or there’s the hard way, which involves my numbskull companion beating you savagely within an inch of your life. Which do you prefer?”

  “Not…numbskull,” the Stonemar grumbled after a few seconds of silence.

  “I’m sorry, what was that?” the mugger asked as he turned to face the monster. “You said you aren’t a numbskull? If you were so smart, then why the hell are you taking orders from me?”

  The Stonemar said nothing back, but simply stared at the man. Samuel took a half-step back, but he was in no condition to run.

  “Don’t even try it,” the mugger threatened. “Even if this big oaf isn’t up to the task, I’ll carve you up myself.”

  “I take orders cause you pay me,” the Stonemar replied.

  “What?” the mugger asked. “No, enough arguing. Just go beat him to death.”

  “Wait, I’ll pay!” Samuel said, raising his hands in protest. While he was blasted off his gourd, he could see an opportunity. He took out a few gold coins and threw them on the ground. “See? That’s all.”

  The mugger took a step forward, holding the knife up high. “Don’t make me kill you! I want the whole purse, not just a small amount.”

  “Hey!” Samuel said, directing his attention to the Stonemar. “I’ll give you 200 gold pieces if you take this guy out.”

  “Nice try, but the big lug’s loyal to – “ the mugger’s words were interrupted as a gigantic stone fist slammed into the side of his head, dropping him to the ground.

  “Holy crap! Did you just kill him?” Samuel shouted.

  The Stonemar just stared at Samuel for a few moments. “Pay me now. I leave,” it grunted.

  “Uhhh, right,” Samuel whispered as he fumbled into his coin purse. He took a few larger denomination coins from the bag and held them out. “Here you go.”

  “All of it,” the Stonemar said after it finished counting the coins.

  Samuel weighed his options. He could either hand over the rest of the money or get savagely beaten to death by a Stonemar, who seemed to have no qualms about attacking his own ally at a moment’s notice. “That’s all I have,” Samuel lied, opting firmly for the death by Rockman choice.

  “You dumb,” the Stonemar said. It moved its colossal fist close to Samuel’s head and ever so gently patted it. “Or think I’m dumb. Either way ends poorly for you.”

  “Fine, fine,” Samuel grumbled as he drew out his coin purse and threw it on the ground. “It’s yours, take it.”

  “Good man,” the Stonemar said. It turned to face the crumpled heap of a human being laying on the ground. The man, while alive, was barely moving. It stared at the man for a moment, then wandered off, taking all of Samuel’s money with him.

  “Well that could have gone better,” Samuel moaned as he slumped down against the wall. He might as well fall asleep right here, it wasn’t like he had any money left to defend.

  “Five hundred gold pieces, gone!” Samuel shouted as he slammed his fist on the table. “Just like that!”

  “I wish I could say I was shocked,” Cimir said. With his side of the money, Cimir had opted to start building a collection of books. He chuckled a little, remembering the look on the shopkeeper’s face when he showed the coins to the man. The self-serious librarian’s tune completely changed from foul to pleasant, taking orders from Cimir and giving the man half a dozen books on magics and rituals. Now, he was stocking his newfound library, while Samuel complained about something unimportant.

  “You could at least have some sympathy for me, I was robbed! I could have been killed!”

  “It makes no sense to kill people when you’re robbing them,” Cimir countered. “It’s better to leave them alive so you can rob them again.”

  “Criminals don’t have brains like that!” Samuel groaned as he fell back into his chair.

  “Excuse me, but did you forget we’re both criminals now?” Cimir replied. “Besides, it’s not like that money wasn’t gone the moment you got your hands on it.”

  Samuel scowled at that. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that you are terrible with whatever amount of money you have. So, you go out, flaunt your cash like you’re some big man, in a district known for its high crime rates, mind you, and then, you’re surprised that someone bigger and stronger took it from you? Come on. What did you expect?”

  “Make me something to protect me,” Samuel said. “Like a gem that fires lightning or freezes them.”

  Cimir paused at that. The application wouldn’t be too difficult to create. Elemental manipulation was perhaps the easiest form of magic to accomplish, hence why many of the old sorcerers would wield powers of fire and wind to dominate their foes. “I thought we said no weapons.”

  “Well, we said no weapons for our customers,” Samuel replied. “But we didn’t say no weapons for us. Come on, just a crystal that turns my enemies into stone for a few hours, is that too much to ask?”

  “If we use something like that, it’ll make too much noise. Too much noise will attract the attention from the government. I don’t want the city guard knocking down my door because you decided to walk down the wrong alley in the middle of the night.”

  “So now you’re blaming the victim in the crime?” Samuel replied. “Have a heart, man,”

  “I’m sorry you got robbed, Samuel,” Cimir replied. “But weapons of magic will only get us in trouble. Why not hire some protection? Maybe a bodyguard or something?” Despite the temptation to create a crystal of flames, for the pure theoretical exercise of course, they couldn’t risk getting caught. There were no cases of anyone being arrested for possessing magical items yet, who knew what the penalties would be? He didn’t want to be the first man facing a judge because of magical violations. They might throw the book at him.

  “Bodyguard? With what money?” Samuel groaned. “I mean, if I hire some common thug to protect me, he’ll just realize he’ll make more by robbing me. Mercenaries are way outside our price range.”

  “I can make you a crystal that will let you run faster and make you sober at the same time,” Cimir said. “That should solve 90% of your problems. Right?”

  “Instantly sober? Like, no hangover either?”

  “I suppose I could find a way to remove the hangover. Probably a simple curative spell,” Cimir mumbled as he stopped loading books onto the shelf. “Would that help you?”

  “Yeah, that should help,” Samuel said with a chuckle. “And it might protect me too…say, mentioning mercenaries makes me think of something.”

 
; “What?” Cimir asked. He walked over to his work station and began to draft up plans for a simple speed spell.

  “The mercenary guild here, what are they called again? Blades of something or other?” Samuel asked as he climbed out of his chair and scrambled to get his coat.

  “I have no clue.”

  “These guys probably took the biggest hit when magic was outlawed. Most of those guys are armed to the teeth with magical weapons, armor, wands and potions. Now it’s all worth nothing.”

  Cimir nodded. “So, you think they’d be interested in buying our wares?’

  Samuel went rummaging through a crate full of crystals. “Where’s the strength ones you built?”

  “That batch isn’t very good, they only last a few uses. They were my first run,” Cimir said.

  “But they work?”

  Cimir nodded. “Yeah. You can lift around 500 pounds, no problem.”

  “Perfect,” Samuel said as he stuffed a few of the crystals into his pockets. “They’ll eat this stuff up.”

  “Are you sure they aren’t dangerous?”

  “Mercenaries? Nah, they’re legally licensed to operate in the city as soldiers for hire. Everything’s on the up and up. If they do anything stupid, they’ll lose their license,” Samuel explained. He straightened his coat and took a deep breath. “I’ll be back.”

  Cimir shrugged and turned his attention back to spell crafting. He could not help but feel like a pioneer, working on a brand new field of magic. Sure, gem-binding existed long before Cimir did, but the art of getting them to function around the Luminous Artifact? As far as he could tell, it hadn’t been done before. He would have to buy more books to determine if this was unique. If so, he could be considered as the father of a whole new field of magic. The opportunities Samuel could bring from a mercenary company far outweighed the dangers of working with hired blades.

  Chapter 8:

  “War!” screamed Valkhorn Thunderson as he slammed his fist onto the table in the eating hall. “Why haven’t there been any lately?”

  “I miss the old days,” Scrime the Gouger replied as he drank more beer from his tankard, “when this city belligerently attacked any king who even looked at us funny.”

  “Peace is profitable,” Minser the Scribe said, as he waved his hand to get everyone’s attention. The Guild of Sworn Blades was having another pointless meeting, and he would prefer it to be over as quickly as possible. Normally, these weekly meetings would be composed of tactical discussions, arguments over wages and assignment of contracts. But with the recent policy changes, there was little to actually do. Most guild members were quick to relocate to other chapters, rather than lose their powerful and extremely expensive magical weapons and armor. Those left behind were either members of the leadership or brash, younger men who didn’t have the rank to warrant a transfer.

  “Profit my ass,” Grimveral shouted. “We’re getting paid to do nothing but loaf around.”

  The rest of the men shouted in agreements and clanked their tankards on the tables.

  “I don’t know about you all, but I want some serious work. We used to be posted in the Magistrate!” Scrime said. “Guarding the most important men and women in the city, thwarting assassination attempts and kicking ass!”

  “Yeah!” the men screamed.

  “And now that same Magistrate tells us they don’t need our services anymore. Now they’re saying that the Kalimar’s goons will protect them,” Scrime growled. “This Guild has been scorned.”

  “Now, now, there was no scorn. They are still honoring our contract and paying us,” Minser said, as he crossed his arms. “That means we can take on other jobs and get paid twice. Peace is profitable. Much more than if the Hordes were to come at our doorstep.”

  “I didn’t join the Guild to not fight, damn it!” Valkhorn growled.

  “Well, the contracts are all dried up,” Minser said. “There are four other mercenary and bodyguard services in this city and without magic, pricing is the only thing that matters. And guild law requires us to charge a premium rate.”

  “Minser is right,” Thannik said as he stood. The rest of the men simmered down and turned their attention to their leader. Thannik had governed the Guild of Sworn Blades in Glimmer for over 30 years and was deeply trusted by his men. “We cannot compete with the other organizations due to our pricing. Something needs to change.”

  “Why not send a wrecking crew to show how ineffective other guilds are?” One of the younger men, Tadmin, shouted from the crowd. None dared to agree with his words, however.

  Thannik shook his head. “We serve with honor, Tadmin. Fighting against other guilds will bring nothing but ruin to our hard earned reputation.”

  “The pup is right!” Valkhorn shouted again, this time standing to his feet. “Glory and honor is wrought through combat, not playing nice. You forget that this guild was carved into Glimmer through violence, not politics! Aren’t I right, scribe?”

  Minser balked a little at that. The brute was technically correct, but that had been a long, long time ago. “Glimmer has changed deeply from the early days, back when they still had three kings controlling their own districts. Do you wish to abolish the Magistrate and restore some of a few petty warlords to watch over this city as well?”

  Laughter erupted from the crowd of men and women. Valkhorn bared his teeth, slamming his fist against his chest. “I would prefer anything to bowing down before our new rulers.”

  “I hate to break it to you,” said a voice from the end of the hall. Everyone turned to face a slender, pale young man wearing a rather garish red cloak. He carried with him a satchel and in his right hand was a crystal. “But the new rulers are really just the old ones. The Magistrate long ago betrayed our principles, we’re just noticing now because of one big rule.”

  “You are either a brave man or an idiot to step into a meeting and interrupt us,” Thannik said, smirking a little. “Either way, it is within Valkhorn’s rights to hack you into several pieces for tresspassing.”

  Valkhorn snorted at that. “I would get more of a thrill swatting away at a fly than fighting that skinny little wimp.”

  The stranger smiled widely and flexed his right arm, pointing to where muscles should have been bulging. “You’re right! Why, a little fellow like me couldn’t possibly put up a fight, let alone carry all that gear most of you are wearing. In fact, carrying this crystal here is making my arm a little tired.” A few of the men snickered at that.

  He clutched the crystal with both hands and for a moment, the crystal began to glow with a bright yellow energy. The glow of the energy spread from the crystal and emanated through his entire body, then with a flash, it was gone. The room grew deadly silent. Magic? How could he possibly be doing this? A few of the men began to grab at their weapons, fearing that this man was a sorcerous assassin.

  “Easy, easy, I’m just here to show you a little something,” the stranger continued as he walked over to one of the tables, where six of the men were sitting. He rapped on the wood. “This looks pretty heavy. Fellas, if you would please, try to hold this table down as hard as you can.”

  The mercenaries all glanced at Thannik, who nodded at them. Chuckling amongst themselves, the men all took hold of the table with their hands. The stranger, either a salesman or an applicant, reached down with both hands and began to lift the table up. At first, it seemed as if he were straining, but after a few seconds, he was able to lift the entire table into the air as if it weighed nothing. The men fell off as they were lifted a few inches upwards. He held the table vertically over his head. A few of the men whooped and hollered at the sight.

  “Enough!” Thannik said, holding a hand up. “You are seeking work?”

  “Work?” the man scoffed as he casually tossed the table back to the ground, causing a loud thud! “Oh, I’m not here to ask for a job. I’m here to fill an order. I can make as many of these crystals as you’d like. Crystals that give your men real strength, stamina and speed.”
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  “Healing?” a man with an eyepatch in the back asked.

  “Of course,” the stranger said. “Anything to support your fine endeavors.”

  Thannik reached out to inspect the crystal. “May I?”

  “Sure thing,” the man said. “The name’s Samuel, by the way.”

  Samuel handed the crystal to Thannik but held on for just a second. The grip was impossibly strong and Thannik was unable to pull it free. This was most impressive. He held it up to his eyes to inspect it. The grey crystal seemed to pulse with an energy within it. Yellow sparks would occasionally flash from the inside. This was indeed magic.

  “I fear we cannot help you,” Thannik said as he handed the crystal back. Samuel’s grin vanished immediately.