Master Doogan

  Doogan and his team have barely tied their boat to the large dock at the base of the road leading to the home of one Andrea Avery, a leading political figure in the local town of Eldor. She also seemed to have ties to some shadier trade partners, slavers. It would be more apt to say that she herself was a slaver, as she was actively abducting citizens and selling them off to people in various locations.

  Doogan had long suspected Andrea of being slightly underhanded in her business dealings, but he had never quite expected to be informed of her dealing in slavery. While the practice was not illegal in all places, such as the far-off wilderness zones where criminals were sent to serve sentences as conscripted labor with little to no oversight; there was zero tolerance for enslaving the innocent.

  Kidnapping itself was punishable with the same sentence, most offenders serving a minimum of ten years hard labor. There were a vast number of ways to track the people abducted if one had the resources. There were clairvoyance spells as well as object or creature location spells.

  The problem here was that it appeared Andrea had defenses against most types of scrying spells and had the added insight to abduct people from less connected families. Who could expect a farmer or small group of traveling merchants to obtain the scrying services quickly enough to find them before they were shielded with other magics and items, similar to the enchanted bracelet Doogan had found on one of the poor sods guarding the docks.

  It seemed that Andrea’s only oversight was her choice in abducting a member of the guild. She could not have known that this low-ranking member would have been equipped with her own means of communication; even if Doogan had no idea how it worked.

  The crow had easily convinced him of his claims as he looked just like the girl and spoke with some of the same random flippancy. He also seemed to be very easily distracted by his own inner musing. The best part was that he had somehow led them straight here after they had reached the general area.

  As to how Doogan confirmed this with his team; the answer was obvious. How best to confess to a guilty conscience than by summoning an army of undead before a group of guild members could make significant progress.

  The group of six had been making small advancements up the road for some time, hacking and slashing at the denizens of loosely controlled dead. Every step was another corpse laid low, as a twitching pile of parts of a burning mound of ash.

  Melbeck with his hammer was fighting alongside his brother Karaga and his two swords in a show of true skill seen only in people who had spent every moment in one another’s company. They had been born as twins long ago and could not be separated, regardless of what they may say to one another. You could see it in their every move.

  Melbeck’s hammer would fall and crush a corpse while his brother would dart in with several slashes as the thing was retrieved. He would step into the mass of rotting corpses and take several more swings, only to duck a moment later barely missing a sweeping blow of hardened metal as it soared overhead clearing a large swath of his attackers and forcing them into a tangled mess of broken limbs.

  Castor had also been doing very well, tossing out fireballs and bolts of lightning as his friend Calen the elf covered his immediate area with a very wicked combat style.

  The sound of incantations and arrows being released was also a constant reminder of the power Darius had brought to his team, having a healer in the party was only trumped by having a healer that also came with an Elven ranger and a powerful mage in tow.

  There was a story there that Doogan knew he would want to hear after this was all over, but for now he would continue his bloody work. Raising his axe to down another row of enemies.

  “Hey, Doogan!” came a shout from the left.

  Doogan brought his axe from right to left as it descended into a group of three animated corpses, severing them cleanly. He swung the axe back to a ready position gripped in both hands before replying, “What’s wrong now, Melbeck?”

  Melbeck removed his own hammer from a dented corpse on the ground before looking back over at Doogan with a raised hand, pointing somewhere in the distance as he asked, “Would that girl up there be your disciple?”

  “She looks frightened,” came Karaga’s comment a moment later.

  Doogan looked into the distance to where Melbeck had indicated even as a wave of light washed through his body and Darius’ favored spell melted several corpses.

  What he saw made him grin; the girl had made it out. She stood there stepping from the left to the right as if thinking about something; a display he doubted she was aware of. She tended to keep herself moving, fidgeting no matter where she was or what was going on; she was almost never still.

  A moment after he looked up, he saw a small flash of red light as she used a spell, one he had had some time trying to place in her growing list of piety-based spells. He had not believed it when Darius said that she had known the spell. Additionally, he had told Doogan that she had also acquired the Wind Walk spell.

  These were two spells that would require people to focus solely on them to attain before reaching the rank of Veteran at level twenty-five, yet she had both. It was truly frightening when he thought of her progress since arriving at his Hall of the guild only a month ago.

  It was also chilling to know that she had been corrupted by a malignant and near-divine level curse less than a week prior.

  He was brought back to the moment as another flash lit the hilltop where Olea was currently standing. She had summoned two more of the elementals, granting her a total of three bright red salamanders to protect her.

  And then Doogan saw it. He had missed the blackened-gray body of a much larger specimen somehow during his musing. He was not sure how he had missed it but now that he saw it in action, he knew Karaga’s assumption that she may be frightened was very wrong.

  The girl was summoning a small army of elemental fire, and he was very glad Sicily had given her those reagents. He wasn’t sure how they got to her, but he was thankful she had received them.

  Doogan began to laugh, even as he renewed his slaughter of the undead; he was not even angry that he received no experience for killing summoned fodder. The girl was here, and alive. He just hoped she wouldn’t be jumping in to help; though he had a feeling she would be more helpful than he had originally thought.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  “Maybe I should had asked her to stay instead of running to safety.” He mused aloud.

  “Are you well, Doogan?” asked Darius from behind him, possibly worried that his old friend had gone mad at the sight of his underling in such peril.

  “More than that, old friend.” He said over his shoulder as he lifted his axe once again before turning his head and shouting to the twins, “I don’t think she scared lads.”

  The paused in their delivery of death unto death to look back up to the hill before there expressions shifted to something more akin to shock.

  “Are those…” they said together, trailing off before they said in unison again, “Is she flying?”

  Doogan glanced to the hill in time to see Olea leaping through the air in a way that was far less graceful than Camille had shown her a month prior. It was still amazing, and he had a suspicion that she had finally taken the advice of increasing her physicality.

  There were a few moments when he saw her stumble and stutter in her climb above the army of the dead before righting herself and picking up even more momentum; there had to be a few spells at work for her to keep that level of balance.

  His eyes then drifted to another movement. There seemed to be a moving cluster of flaming familiars headed their way. Doogan’s grin broadened as he realized that Olea had sent them some support.

  “Good girl."

  Castor of Eldor

  The gnome did not regret working to fulfill the last request of his own disciple, or rather adopted daughter. He had taken her in when she was lost and confused, new to the world at large. She was a victim of the mana storm, in a way far eclipsing his own. He and Calen had learned that her claim of being from another world was true, she had been chosen by the very gods to act upon the world.

  Castor doubted she had realized the importance of all the things she had shared with him all those weeks ago, but he knew.

  She could have changed the world.

  That was before the attack yesterday. What had happened would never leave his mind’s eye. To cut down a young woman, barely into adulthood, was an act that could never be forgiven. The fact that her killer had died did little to alleviate the loss of Merry.

  It was quite the sight to see the skies open up and show such swift and utter hatred for the scene it was forced to observe, for the heavens were always watching.

  What was more awe-invoking was the message that had appeared before Castor as the girl lay bleeding upon the cobbles.

  You have been gifted with the spell: Fire Storm – Rank 4.

  All Prerequisites have been deferred.

  Spells shall be further empowered until the end of Turning in the year 1344 on the Continent of Talindrone.

  Boon Granted by Trougholiea Kenarious, Third Daughter of She who Mourns.

  I watch on from a place of knowing, kind gnome.

  Protect them.

  It had taken some time to process the full weight of those words. Words that had been delivered through the system while invoking the name of a divine maiden of springtime.

  He recalled the spell now, even as he tossed bolts of arcane lightning and bright orbs of fire at the approaching horde.

  Fire Storm: [Four Hundred Mana] Using this Apex spell, the caster can summon forth a storm of raging fire to consume all in its domain. The fire summoned will be all encompassing and cause continual damage to any within. Objects and creatures outside of the area of concentration shall suffer very little damage as the bounds of this spell prevent the release of heat into the environment. This spell will do no damage to the caster, but it can and will harm any other person within its area. Area increases with Level, Intelligence, and Constitution. Can be channeled for greater effect.

  Rank Two: At this rank the area of Fire Storm’s influence is increased. Duration of the spell can now be increased by supplying more mana into the fire, channeling cost is one hundred mana per second.

  Rank Three: Due to the nature of the pathways unlocked when empowering this spell, the user shall experience a significant increase in their ability to tolerate extreme heat in the form of a permanent passive. Grants the caster the ability to more easily morph and regulate the area affected by this spell while channeling.

  Rank Four: At this rank the caster will see an increase in the area of Fire Storm’s influence. Control of the storm is now more reliable, allowing the user to greatly influence the path of devastation. Casting time is now reduced by half.

  “Keep them busy, Cal.” Castor shouted as he stepped back.

  He took a moment to pull a cigar from his robes, a cigar that was currently lit and sporting a bright red cherry at its tip.

  Pulling in a long breath to relax his mind even as he suffered the verbal abuse that his friend Cal was giving him for having-a-smoke while he fought for his life brought back some fond memories. Memories that would need to wait as he prepared his spell in his mind.

  His cigar was imbued with no small amount of relaxing herbs, it was also imbued with an enchantment that would increase his intelligence by ten percent. It was a bonus he thought he should have before his first cast of the spell he was about to invoke.

  He put his hand in the air as he began to channel his mana through the many pathways in his body that had only recently been established. He felt the burning hot energy pour through his conduits as they were flexed and strained through their very first use. He knew he would pay for this later, but he had faith.

  Faith in the gods above who had given this power to him, a faith that helped him believe that they would see him protected after the spell ended. He knew the cost his body would pay for overusing a new spell to this degree, and he knew very well the cost of using this spell so openly.

  It was a restricted spell, of course. One seldom taught outside of the Imperial Military and strictly controlled by the Empire.

  Calen had just backed up to stand by his side as he called out in the divine language, the words gifted to him by divine knowledge, and he watched as his magic was made manifest.

  A tiny ember, a small spark, the most insignificant floating pinprick of flame appeared between their party and the building in the distance. A place directly over the horde of undead.

  This small bit of fire was soon growing to envelop a group of shambling corpses at the center of the group. It grew again, encompassing an area nearly the size of his market dwelling across the river, then again it grew to double this size. The heat while distant could be felt even as he shifted his intent, bending, stretching, and growing the walls of flame until they were covering the entirety of the fields before them.

  Castor watched through a haze of pain as his spell brought the mass of walking dead to a halt, their shadows lingering for moments even as the group around him watched in speechless awe.

  The spell empowered by The Turning to increase its potency was a sight to behold, and no one spoke a word as the army that they had struggled to fight their way through was turned to ash. There were small bits of bones and clothing left on the ground as the storm was made to avoid directly touching the earth below it, a benefit of the spells focused fury that it did not turn the area into a wasteland.

  Castor maintained the spell until the final dregs of mana left his body in a sigh, his body collapsing onto the warm grass.

  Doogan was the first to speak.

  “Calen, get your man back to the ship.”

  Karaga and Melbeck watched numbly as the elf hefted the gnome over his lean shoulder and made his way back to their craft, all boasting forgotten.

  “What was that?” they asked in unison, slowly working through their stupor.

  “Trouble.” Doogan remarked before tightening the grip on his axe.

  “For a later time, friend.” Darius said while nodding. “We should go though, more work awaits.”

  Doogan nodded back to the man as he began the long march through the fields of ash, his party following behind.

  No one commented on the four salamanders that had stopped nearby, wondering where all the targets had gone before they began to slowly fade into the ether.

  Their master had passed beyond the range of the spell, severing the link and releasing them to return to their own realm.

  Ignis smiled even as he faded away, it was an interesting vacation.