by Jordan Cramm
“Well, Mage Dawson is here once more. I have teleportation magic that affords me instantaneous travel to places I have been and can focus on. His balance debt brought him back here, though he wouldn't tell me what for. As for Mage Carra, well she is just Carra now. So much has happened, and we are all still trying to keep up. But she sacrificed being a Free Mage to provide us all with vital information that could help in this war. As for Mage Starn, I honestly do not know how he fares. I have not seen him in weeks, and last I did, he was preparing to march with our army from the city of Elender on Molith toward their destination, which is now dubbed the Bloodgrounds. We had a tough battle there recently and were lucky to survive.”
“Interesting,” she remarked, “Molith...that place is a dangerous place Wolflen. I am glad you are okay no worse for wear.”
“Yes, and it might please you,” he went on as he sipped some tea, “to learn that I am now married to the Elven Princess of Orenty, Lady Katrina, who herself is a master Ranger.”
“Somehow Lord Darkmoon I am not surprised. You were always drawn to this type of life I think. Your letters, and those from your family tell of such a person anyway. I was actually surprised when we didn't see you for registration this last year. I know your father wanted you to spend some time at sea first though.”
Wolflen chuckled.
“A lifetime ago it seems.”
“Not so long really. So what brings you here?”
“Well,” he went on again, I understand Akartha has recently suffered some killings that the Priests are calling a phantom Izenian. They say he strikes from shadow and fades again.”
“Yes we have heard about it,” Shania replied, “though for us it has been little more than a nuisance. The guards are having some trouble handling it I understand however. Not terribly surprising since most of our Knights are gone now. Truth be told though I try to stay of out city business unless we are asked to handle something. The politics of it all doesn't suit me well.”
“Well I was wondering if I might borrow your services for a short time. I think this Nambrin would willingly come out in the open if he knew I was back, but I have to find him. No one tracks like a Ranger can, and seeing as we are both here now, I was hoping I could ask your help.”
“Of course,” she replied, “is the plan to kill him then?”
“I honestly do not know,” Wolflen replied, “he killed my mother already. Not sure if that has made news yet or not, but from what I am told, the man is under a mind control spell and not acting of his free will.”
“I see,” Shania returned, “if that is so then you may be in the wrong place to ask for help Lord Darkmoon.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well,” she responded, “tracking shouldn't be too terribly hard. However, mind control magic is not in my repertoire. I would think such might fall more in the venue of the Shaman Guild.”
“I see,” Wolflen answered, “in that case would you happen to know any of the Master Shamans still here in Akartha? Seems I might need to pester two Guild Houses today with this problem. I will pay you and the Shaman of course—from the city treasury for your time.”
“Of course. Though, rather than any kind of monetary payment for all of this, might I ask a favor instead?”
“What can I do for you?”
“Well, I have a few students that would benefit from time in the wild. They are ready, and lately we have been hesitant to give out assignments because frankly we aren't sure if Akartha should be hunkering down and fortifying, or if we should carry on like normal, or send more troops here or there...you get the gist. So could you maybe help out with that?”
“Certainly,” Wolflen remarked, “I will take two or three with me to Molith upon my return if that would be acceptable, and I could also personally benefit were some to take up duties scouting Polithica. I have a destination in mind in fact, and they would need to scout it out and report back. Then depending on the reports, we may be sending people there soon. I can give you the details as we go along, but please forgive my abruptness in all this, but I am overdue already to be back in Molith. I hadn't expected this side mission of finding this Nambrin when I arrived, but here we are. I am sure by now, Lady Katrina already wonders why I have not returned. So, may we seek out this Shaman you know?”
“Absolutely. Together we should be able to resolve this quickly, and it will be interesting to see a War Mage in action.”
“Thank you Lady Shania,” Wolflen said as he stood and returned an empty tea goblet, “I appreciate your help in this.”
“When this is all over,” she returned, “you should come back and see me in a more unofficial manner Lord Darkmoon.”
“If that is an open invitation,” he replied with a smile, “then I accept.”
Chapter 27: Nambrin's Last Uprising
Wolflen, Lady Shania and master Shaman Kormack moved together down one of the streets of Akartha towards Wolflen's home. They had already visited a couple of the taverns in town, and already visited a few merchants who claimed there had been some strange purchases recently. Oddly enough, the search had brought the three of them back to Wolflen's own neighborhood.
In front of his own family home, Wolflen stood, telling the others to fan out and stay hidden if they could. Then loudly, Wolflen began calling Nambrin's name, time and again in a yell. For a moment nothing moved, and nothing seemed to stir, but at last, Wolflen's own front door opened, and there stood the Izenian man they were looking for. It was Nambrin, leaning upon the door post that was still charred, and in one hand he held an apple, eating it with little regard to the threat before him now.
“Nambrin!” Wolflen yelled again, “I heard you were looking for me. Well come and face me now!”
Nambrin smirked and tossed the core of his apple into the street as he began his stride toward his target.
“Ah, the War Mage come home at last. My master will be pleased.”
“Doubtful,” Wolflen said sternly, “as he no longer stays nearby. You are alone here now, and I am no easy mark.”
“Ah,” Nambrin replied, “no matter. You look to be unarmed, and I fortunately, have this Katuk blade here.”
Wolflen felt his body tense as Nambrin approached. He had waited for this moment ever since he learned of his mother's death. Now it was upon him, and he was as ready for it as he knew he ever would be. Nambrin didn't seem to waste any time either, swinging the Katuk blade at Wolflen more than once, which Wolflen dodged. He studied his opponent, as he was sure Nambrin studied him. Wolflen almost pitied him for the mind control that guided and forced his actions now.
“You swing that blade well,” Wolflen said as he stepped back a moment.
“I should. Mortican chose his assassin well,” Nambrin retorted with another swing that Wolflen ducked under.
The battle was now drawing onlookers who began forming up in the street. Wolflen continued dodging attacks, waiting for the moment to return one of his own, but he couldn't decide if he should just blast the man, kill him quickly or let him live.
The next swipe of the Katuk blade found its mark though, striking upwards and into Wolflen's chest armor. The armor did not slice open at all, but Wolflen certainly felt the force of the strike and was knocked backwards, being momentarily winded. Nambrin laughed and twirled the blade in his hands before preparing another assault. Still, Wolflen had his weapons hidden away, but as Nambrin closed in once more with a downward strike, Wolflen's own weapons materialized in his hands, and they clashed with the Katuk blade at once. A moment more, and Wolflen let his weapons blaze to life with electric force flowing through them.
He still hadn't made up his mind whether or not to kill the man, or to pity him. So he kept the battle going, allowing Nambrin confidence that might have been false. Now, as he thought about the decision, Wolflen merely used his own weapons to block and help him dodge Nambrin's strikes.
“Your armor may be too strong for this blade, but I see you have no helmet. I promise you,
” Nambrin chided, one good strike to your head and your War Mage burden will be over.”
Wolflen side-stepped another strike and blocked again. This time, Nambrin even followed up with a closed fist that Wolflen had not anticipated. It struck Wolflen's jaw, and was strong enough to cause Wolflen to stumble slightly. His lip began to bleed, and Wolflen used the back of one of his hands to wipe it away quickly before spitting some to the ground in the street.
Now, a circle of onlookers had formed, and whispers of the fight seemed to be traveling quickly. People came out of their homes, and some said that the Admiral's son was in a fight, and others made the connection of who they were talking about, so whispers soon turned to hushed words of him being the War Mage, and their curiosity grew. A couple guards even stepped forward; Knights of Akartha who were still there, and they offered to help Wolflen end the fight, but Wolflen ordered them to remain neutral, so they stepped back.
Finally, Wolflen chose to attack, and so he lowered a hand and directed it toward Nambrin. It was a “gentle” shove really—telekinetic force used to back Nambrin up. He did not fall backwards however, and Wolflen knew he could have shoved harder had he wanted to. Like a mad man, Nambrin came charging at him again, and this time Wolflen let streaks of lightning fly all around him, causing Nambrin and everyone else watching to back up in fear of errant bolt.
When the lightning show died down, Nambrin readied to attack once more, and now Wolflen was ready. As the attack came at him, Wolflen used one of his own swords to knock the Katuk blade sideways, and Nambrin moved with the follow-through, exposing his back, which Wolflen swiped at with his other sword. Nambrin dropped his Katuk blade in the street and Wolflen came forward with a follow-through kick to his face, causing blood to flow from his nose in addition to what spilled on the street from his back. Then with ease, Wolflen stood over Nambrin, swords grasped in hand and ready to strike a final blow.
“Do it! Please!” Nambrin pleaded, “You think I wanted this? I have no choice. Kill you or die trying. So do it!”
“Kormack! Now's the time.”
Suddenly roots began forming out of nowhere and holding Nambrin down. He yelled and struggled, but they were powerful vines and Shania stepped forward as she worked her magic. Once they were in place, Shania stepped aside, and Kormack the master Shaman stepped forward.
Kormack was a large man, wearing furs, leather pants and boots, but no shirt. His body was covered in tattoos, and his head was shaved though he had a brown mustache and goatee. Wolflen watched him kneel over Nambrin and place both hands on either side of Nambrin's head. Nambrin of course still tried to struggle, even trying to bite Kormack's hand, but Kormack was strong and kept to his duty.
In a moment, Kormack's eyes glowed white as if his eyes had disappeared entirely and in their place was ghost white balls. Magic flowed through his hands, surging into Nambrin's head as Kormack chanted a spell time and again. After a moment, Nambrin stopped struggling, and his own composure calmed once more. Kormack stood and reported that it was done, and Shania released her vines slowly afterwards.
Nambrin was slow to get up, and he did not stand. Instead, he crawled to his knees and began profusely apologizing. He begged that Wolflen kill him still, saying that he knew the horrors he had brought to Akartha and to Wolflen himself. Wolflen however had chosen mercy.
“Get up Izenian. Your wounds can be healed. You can still be an Izenian warrior for good.”
“Kill me!” he begged again.
“Not this day.”
Nambrin slowly stood as Wolflen made his weapons disappear once more. Tears now strolled down his face.
“I was...I mean before...Taken after a raid for treasure on the Eloxin Isles. My friends were killed. My treasures taken. I have nothing now. I am no one. None will agree to heal me, and none would have me in their service now. Better that you kill me here.”
“I think I have better use for you. You will book passage aboard a ship bound for Izendune. You will get to our King, and you will tell him what has transpired here. Tell him the War Mage is merciful and fair. Tell King Maskus that all of Izendune needs to be ready. Tell him that each city must fortify rather than march. Our battles so far have been fierce, but insignificant compared to what is coming into our world soon. Tell him we faced down close to six legions of Werewolves at the Bloodgrounds of Molith—that soldiers of Akartha held them off for over a day standing alone before Elven reinforcements from Orenty arrived to finish the battle. You do that, and then you find a place to live upon that continent. May we never meet again Izenian. If I see you raise a hand against my family or my people once more, I will hunt you, and I will kill you.”
“My lord I have nothing and no way of booking passage to anywhere.”
“Truly?” Wolflen asked.
Wolflen reached into one of his belt pouches and retrieved four platinum coins and held them out toward Nambrin.
“Get yourself to a healer, buy some warmer gear, book your passage, and do as I have asked.”
Nambrin began sobbing again at the gesture of mercy and kindness. He accepted the coins and turned, following as Kormack instructed him to do so that he might be healed and properly clothed for a journey at the Shaman Sect House. Wolflen thanked Kormack for his help, handing him a platinum coin as well, which Kormack accepted gracefully before turning and leading Nambrin away.
Wolflen still had a crowd of onlookers now, and he realized as much as his thoughts snapped back into focus. He was still racing with adrenaline, hoping he wouldn't regret letting his mother's killer go free. But he had made his choice. As he looked upon the gathered crowd, he began to speak loudly so they could all hear.
“The battle in Molith has been a victory. From Elven lands to the North of here, we tracked a Werewolf horde of thousands to that continent. Our soldiers fought hard, and fought bravely, and it was an honor to fight at their side. Not everyone will be coming home, but I will do my best to have those still breathing brought home soon. You have my word on that. Meanwhile, do what you can for the city defenses. Akartha must be ready for whatever comes next. Now, return to your homes. This phantom threat is now over.”
As Wolflen turned, he saw Lady Shania standing there, obviously waiting for words with him herself.
“That was impressive,” she remarked, “You were toying with him weren't you?”
Wolflen nodded.
“I couldn't decide whether or not to just kill him,” Wolflen answered.
“You made that choice before you ever engaged him,” she remarked, “or else we would have not needed to find Master Shaman Kormack to tag along.”
“Maybe so,” Wolflen retorted, “but the choice of killing him still hung in my mind as I fought.”
“Well that's one more Izenian for the cause now I guess. I am glad you did not kill him. Whatever his crimes, our people could use a man like that—especially if his actions were not of his own making in committing his crimes.”
“Well he may yet encounter my father when he gets to Izendune. I can't say my father will offer such mercy if that happens.”
“Understandable,” Shania replied, “though don't be too quick to judge even those you think you know well. After all, I had quite the picture painted of you just over a year ago or so. And from what I learned, I would not have expected you to be a War Mage.”
Wolflen chuckled.
“Lady Shania as I am Izenian,” he replied jokingly, “I don't think anyone would have expected that. Now, shall we discuss repayment of our services this day—in greater detail? I don't mean to be pushy but I am on a timetable today, and the bells will soon toll again for 3 chimes if I am not mistaken.”
“Of course….”
~
Meanwhile in Molith, Katrina was handling the business of keeping things together. Already, her own father King Janureen had visited to report that Jakarta was awake and being nursed by Carra. Katrina smiled at the news, knowing that Jakarta would likely be glad for that at least. Ayvock still slept
, but they expected him to do so for another day yet. His father Flint was visiting often, at times when he was taking breaks from commanding the remaining Izenians to help police the dead and fallen.
Funeral services were already being prepared throughout the day. Pyres were prepared for all those who had been slain, using wood and oils. Most were put in groups on the various pyres, rested upon them next to former brothers-in-arms. Trevel was special however, and for him, a pyre to himself. Of their ranks of dead, he was the only one afforded a special, larger pyre. He had been Jakarta's number one student after all, and now fallen from the world.
“Where is he?” Katrina asked, as if her father or Flint had an answer.
“Perhaps he simply wished for a breather at home in Akartha little one.”
“No,” she remarked, “that wouldn't be like him. He said he would be right back, and his magic is to be trusted. Something is keeping him.”
“Well,” Flint interjected as he stood from squatting over the body of his son, “is there anything there that would demand his attention for any reason? Any unfinished business or errand he felt he needed to run?”
“Nambrin...” Katrina said as if they would understand.
“Who?” King Janureen asked.
“Nambrin,” she replied, “the man who killed his mother. With Mortican and his dragon no longer a threat to Akartha I bet Wolflen went on a hunt to settle the score.”
“Well there you go Princess,” Flint answered, “then worry not. He will return safely.”
“Unless he is killed.”
“Come now little one,” King Janureen commented, “he has done the impossible here at these 'Bloodgrounds'. You yourself told me of his feats. Surely he will not fall to this Nambrin...not to one man.”