by Drew Hayes
Grumph hadn’t even hesitated when Dejy made him the offer. Armor could be purchased, wounds healed, and blood would dry eventually. Magic, to him, was not simply a tool to make him a better warrior; Grumph already had confidence in that department. Magic was a means to do the impossible, and as Grumph finished his casting, feeling so much mana whisper out of him that he nearly got light-headed, he was grateful for his choice. Armor was well and good, but what he needed here was the power to climb.
Pressing his hand against the tower’s wall, Grumph felt the newly familiar sensation of bonding. He lifted himself up, adding his feet and other hand to the tower’s smooth stone surface. Just like that, Grumph was no longer standing on the stairs; instead, he held himself on the wall like a cockroach searching for abandoned bits of food. Tentatively, he reached out, willing one hand free and affixing it to a new point on the wall. Then he moved his legs, then an arm again, and so on, until he was weaving his way around the tower at a pace perhaps a touch quicker than he’d managed on the stairs.
The testing point came when the wind’s force suddenly doubled once more, driving raindrops into his face as if he’d dunked his head in a bucket. It was as powerful as before, but this time, Grumph wasn’t pushed back. His magic, binding him to the wall at his desire, was stronger than the storm, and he continued climbing, following the route of the stairs.
Grumph considered trying to bypass the spiral of the staircase entirely and begin climbing straight up, but when he stretched a hand out toward the center of the tower, he felt the unmistakable tingle of electricity. Jerking his hand back quickly, Grumph continued on the longer path. There was no way to be sure without testing it, but he felt reasonably certain that there was lightning waiting in the tower’s center, waiting to strike all who left the stairs, be it by choice or accident. He might be wrong, of course; however, Grumph saw no reason to chance it when his current strategy was holding up. He was brave, not pointlessly death-seeking.
The first time lightning struck the staircase, Grumph was so shocked he nearly went toppling from his perch on the wall. Only the fact that he was too surprised to mentally release his bond saved him, leading to him flopping about before realizing that he was magically connected to stone. After that, the strikes became more frequent, fat bolts of electricity slamming into the stone stairs, blinding Grumph even more than the rain and wind already had. At first, he was terrified, cautious of every movement, afraid the next bolt would be the one that finally hit the wall. However, after ten strikes, Grumph realized that none of them had deviated from the staircase. It was another layer of obstacles, just like the torrential wind that tried to blow him away. Most mages had likely found a different solution to the wind problem and were then in a position to cast a shield or ward against the lightning. By sheer chance, and perhaps the grace of the gods, Grumph’s remaining spells had felled two wolves with a single strike.
Grumph’s last surprise in the tower was a bump to the head. Since he was climbing up parallel to the stairs, but not actually treading on them, he had no idea that they’d finally come to an end and thus, smacked himself headlong into a wall. Groping about carefully, he inched his hands down from his horizontal perch until he finally felt a surface other than rock. Wood, weathered and beaten and who knew how old, but wood nonetheless. He ran tired fingers across its surface until they seized what he’d been so desperately searching for: the knob. Twisting it without delay—for if this too was a trap, then Grumph had no more spells to counter it—he barreled through into the new room.
For an instant, Grumph thought he’d died. The sudden silence and peace after having all his senses being assaulted made it feel like his body must have ceased functioning. Then reality set in, and he understood that he was finally, however briefly, out of the storm. Before him was another set of stairs, though these were made of simple wood and rose thirty feet up to another door. He was in the last chamber before the top of the tower, where the crystal rested. Much as he wanted to feel relieved, there was only anxiety burning in his chest.
He’d come so far, managed to do so much, but the cost to make it had been great. His mana was completely tapped out, his body was beaten and exhausted, and his mind was growing fuzzy with fatigue. There would almost certainly be one last obstacle to overcome, and Grumph wasn’t sure how he would do it. Stepping forward, he tested the wooden beams to make sure they would hold his weight. Though creaks and groans met his ears, the foothold seemed stable enough.
With nowhere else to go but up, Grumph began to climb once more.
* * *
When the door opened and Grumph stepped into view at the top of the tower, there was nothing subdued about the cheer that rose from the crowd. Many, including Gabrielle herself, leapt to their feet, screaming support as best they could. The half-orc looked like he’d been through hell, albeit a wet one. Soaked to the bone, clothing half-shredded by wind and rain, and visibly limping, Grumph was hardly the picture of health as he tottered through the door and looked at the glowing crystal.
“Think he has anything left?” Fritz asked.
Dejy shook his head. “If he made it past the tower’s insides, he had to use the Wall Climbing spell I taught him. After all the others he cast to get there, I’m honestly amazed he’s still on his feet. There’s no way he was any mana left to draw on.”
“It’s not like he needs it though, right?” Gabrielle pointed to the center of the field, where Grumph was slowly approaching the crystal. “It’s over. He made it. Now he just has to smash the thing.”
“Not quite that simple, I’m afraid,” Dejy replied. “The crystal defends itself with lightning that surges into anything that touches it. One hand on the surface and most men will be dead. Ram it with a sword or spear, and it’ll race back to the wielder, likely killing them. I’d hoped he would hang on to the constroid remains all the way to this point, as those might have been used to bash the thing to pieces.”
Gabrielle tapped her leg as she stared at her friend. “Did any of you ever actually ask Grumph about that weapon he carries? I mean, was it inspected or vetted or even drawn in front of you?”
“Not that I know of,” Dejy said. “I didn’t feel much magic from it, and mages are allowed to bring weapons and tools into their trials. But unless it’s enchanted to be lightning-proof, I doubt it will change anything. All metal conducts those bolts.”
“Maybe so,” Gabrielle agreed. “But what about the bones of a demon?”
* * *
No one had to tell Grumph that the crystal was trapped; the singe marks and occasional small crackle of lightning emanating from it conveyed that story perfectly well. Just to be sure he understood how the trap worked, however, he decided to do a test. Ripping off a button from the tattered remains of his shirt, Grumph gently tossed the scrap of metal at the shining white crystal hovering five feet off the tower’s floor.
The blast of electricity was blinding as the button hit, and only a small scrap of melted metal fell to the floor. Pretty good trap, by Grumph’s reckoning. It would blast anything that touched it, which meant magic was the only way to shatter the thing unharmed. He drew his sword, testing the heft of it in his hand. Grumph had never tried to attack the demons with lightning during their battle, though he was certain some of the other adventurers at the tournament had. He dearly wished he could look back in time and see how that had worked out. Everyone knew demons were immune to fire, and lightning was just very concentrated fire from the sky, when one thought about it, so it seemed like there was a decent chance demons might be resistant to getting shocked.
Grumph realized he was merely trying to find enough justification for the theory to get up the courage and swing. Maybe demons were resistant to electricity, maybe they weren’t. Either way, he was about to find out. Grumph had pushed himself harder in the last few days than he’d needed to for years, and he’d done it all because his friends were counting on him. One crystal—and potential death—were all that remained between him and he
lping the others. He’d already made it through three or four potential deaths just in the last hour. What was one more on the pile?
Raising the blade high overheard, wishing he still had the magically enhanced strength, Grumph took precise aim. He would likely only get a single shot at this; it wouldn’t do to crack the thing without breaking it. Grumph took a deep breath, gathered every ounce of strength still remaining in his body, and swung like he was trying to chop through a giant’s leg.
In the brief moment before his blade made contact, Grumph wondered if Talcia would still honor their bargain to send aid if he died making it into the guild.
* * *
The brilliant white explosion blinded all who’d been watching Grumph’s swing, which was to say damn near everyone in the coliseum. Eyes were rubbed and stars blinked out of sight as they tried to make out what had become of the intrepid apprentice wizard working so hard for membership. By the time their vision returned, the tower was obscured by the funneling clouds that were drifting out of it, dissipating into the sky. Hushed whispers overtook cheers as they waited for any sort of movement or sign. As seconds stretched into minutes, the whispering became less hushed and more frantic.
“Come on, Grumph.” Gabrielle had her hands clenched so tightly that her armor rattled. She stared, unyielding, at the cloud-obfuscated tower, waiting for any sign of her friend. Fritz laid a hand on Gabrielle’s forearm, but said nothing. There were no words for moments like these.
Only prayers.
“My fellow mages.” Talcia’s voice filled the air, stoic and inscrutable from the first word. “I must inform you that today’s applicant, Grumph the wizard, succeeded in destroying the Tempest Crystal and passing his trial for entry into the Guild of Illustrious Mages. However, he was not able to escape the resulting blast unscathed. Thus, it is my duty to deliver some unfortunate news.”
Gabrielle felt her heart shatter in her chest, but before she could even feel the impact of Grumph’s loss, Fritz slapped her gently on the back and put her elven face directly in Gabrielle’s.
“Talcia’s a dick,” she whispered excitedly. “A dick, and a showman.”
Before their eyes, the clouds burst apart, revealing the announcing mage in question supporting a singed half-orc who was clearly unable to stand on his own. Grumph was swaying from side to side, one good thump from passing out, but unmistakably alive.
“The bad news is that we’re going to have to call some priests in to patch this guy up before we can throw his guild acceptance party!”
Everyone in the audience leapt to their feet and cheered, even Gabrielle, despite the fact that she was mentally calculating how to jump and mercilessly pummel an announcer mage.
Chapter 27
“Absolutely not.” Talcia crossed his arms and glared, an expression he’d perfected over decades on the admissions committee.
“I don’t think you get to just turn me down. I outrank you by quite a bit,” Dejy pointed out. “And I say I’m going to be in the group you send to help Grumph.”
“Dejy, you’re an archmage and have a seat at the Table. This guild depends on you; it needs you. We can’t let you go gallivanting off on some wild adventure for who knows how long. Think of all the responsibilities you have to attend to here,” Talcia reminded him.
“You mean paperwork,” Dejy muttered darkly.
The pair sat in Fritz’s quarters, along with the elven trader herself and Ferdy, who’d tagged along with Talcia despite having no invitation of his own. With Grumph being healed by priests, and Gabrielle refusing to leave his side, it fell upon the older mages to fulfill their end of the bargain made several days prior. Grumph was owed magical transport back to Briarwillow and a team of two to three mages to lend aid with their situation there. Mages, by and large, were not always the most trustworthy of sorts, but they prided themselves on keeping deals with fellow guildmates. It was the only way to trust and live in peace with each other.
“Dejy can push the issue if he really wants—he does outrank us all—but I think the Table will ultimately agree with Talcia on this one,” Fritz said. “You went and got too important in the guild; now, they can’t survive without you.”
“Come on; he’s my student, doesn’t that get me something?” Dejy asked.
“A student of two days,” Talcia reminded him. “Not exactly a long-lasting bond. Why do you even want to go on this trip, anyway? From the sounds of things, it’s either a simple fix or nothing at all.”
“I think he just got accustomed to the excitement and is dreading going back to his normal work.” Fritz anticipated Dejy’s glare and met it with a playful wink. “There’s nothing to worry about, though. After the spectacle Grumph put on, I imagine we’ve got plenty of mages who would jump at the chance to go into the field with the guild’s newest member.”
“That’s a little too true,” Talcia agreed. “I’m having trouble deciding who to actually assign. Haven’t seen this many volunteers since that nymph island asked us to come help with their locust problem.”
“Why not keep it simple?” Fritz asked. “You and Ferdy are both accomplished mages, and clearly interested in keeping tabs on Grumph for a bit, so go ahead and put yourselves on the team. Since you’re both part of the admissions committee, it’s well within your rights to watch over a newly joined guild member. Plus, I’ll be coming along as well.”
Ferdy snorted from his seat near the door. “You think Talcia will really waste a spot on someone like you?”
“Talcia can do what he pleases. I never proposed I’d go in as a member of the team,” Fritz countered. “You seem to forget; I’m an associate of this guild, not a member, which means I can go where I want whenever it suits me. Those two are my friends, and quite fun, so I’m tagging along.”
“Don’t bother arguing. Gods have lost their wills trying to make Fritz change her mind,” Dejy cautioned. “I’d like to second her on you going, Talcia. If I can’t keep an eye on my student personally, I’d like someone skilled, who I trust, to be there with him.”
Talcia was quiet, mulling over the requests set before him. “Perhaps that would be for the best. And Ferdy, if you can hold a pleasant tongue to Fritz, you can come along as well, but I won’t have you annoying us all with pitiful barbs.”
“Personally, I find them quite charming,” Fritz said.
“And no instigating him,” Talcia added, pointing at his fellow elf.
“What makes you think I want to go on such a pointless assignment?” Ferdy asked.
“Please, kid, you forcefully tagged along to this meeting, and your eyes practically popped out of your head when Fritz suggested you go. If you want people not to know your desires, work on your poker face,” Dejy said. “So, Talcia and Ferdy as the mages, Fritz because she wants to. Anyone else?”
“I think keeping it to the two of us is best.” Talcia pulled a piece of parchment from his robe and scanned it carefully. “Everyone else who has come forth has their own desires or agenda, wanting to glom on to the momentary acclaim Grumph has after his success. I’d rather work with people who can put the job first. And Fritz, I suppose.”
“Thank goodness, I was worried you were going to drag some dullards into our party,” Fritz replied. “Guess all that’s left to do now is arrange some transportation. We’ve got people who’re familiar enough with Briarwillow to cast a Teleportation Tunnel, don’t we?”
“The town is only three days’ ride from here and has some of the best pumpkins in Alcatham; we’ve got gobs of mages who are familiar enough with it to open up a way,” Dejy told her. “I want status reports every few days while you’re there, though. Keep me in the loop about how my student is doing.”
“If you continue tossing around the word ‘student’ like that, people are going to think you’ve actually taken Grumph as your apprentice,” Talcia warned. “And we all know how the great and powerful Dejy feels about having an apprentice.”
“Maybe I’ve just been waiting for one worth t
eaching.” Dejy snapped the words on reflex, his contrarian impulse refusing to allow someone to pin him down, though once the words left his mouth, he wondered if there wasn’t a bit of truth to them. Not that it mattered; he was an archmage with duties to the guild, and Grumph was set on adventure. There was no way to train him as a proper apprentice, even if Dejy wanted to.
He spared a glance at Fritz, who’d moved on to determining where they should open the tunnel on their side, and allowed himself a moment of honest envy. She could go where she pleased without a second thought, owing her time to no man or guild. Just like that, she’d decided to go along with the adventurers, while he’d been completely shut down. Dejy loved his position and power; he’d worked hard to claim them. But there were days he wished for the freedom he’d had as a simple traveling wizard.
On those days, he understood Fritz and what she’d done just a touch better.
* * *
“The wizard’s tower lies ahead, visible even over the massive trees that reach into the sky.” Russell read from the module’s book while also checking his notes. The party was getting close at long last; they’d nearly made it to the tower, which would serve as a massive final dungeon. This was the point when things had started to slip off the rails last time. And he refused to be caught unaware again. “From the size, Gelthorn gauges it to be roughly another day’s travel until you can reach the entrance.”
“Thank Longinus,” Tim said. Timanuel’s refusal to retreat had nearly gotten him killed several times already; he was anxious to be out of the forest and into a closed off area where running wasn’t meant to be an option. Plus, after all the effort of getting past the monsters and traps, he was pretty darn curious about what was inside this tower.
“Hold off on the thanks, we’re not there yet,” Bert cautioned. He peered down at the map, analyzing the trees and paths Russell had drawn. After getting a feel for his GM’s battle style, Bert was beginning to notice when the board was set for an ambush. Nothing jumped out at him so far, but he checked how many alchemical bombs Wimberly had on hand, just to be safe.