The Warmage Is Restive
The Warmage frowned at the scarred oak table, listlessly
watching a miniature warrior chase an equally diminutive Daedroth around the
clutter of empty plates and bottles.
Edwynster padded up to the table -- surprisingly silent for such a big man --
and spoke diffidently. “Ah, milord...Lord
Balefire...”
The dusky warrior mage looked up, his frown deepening. “By the gods,
man”, he snarled, “how many times must I tell you not to call me that? I
am not your lord nor anyone's. Plain Balefire will do very well, as I have
tried to teach you ere now.”
Sighing, he let his scowl relax, and forced his tone to mildness.
“What is it, Edwynster? What would you have of me?”
Fidgeting, the huge bouncer cleared his throat and began, “The illusion,
milo...ah...Balefire, is a very well-made one. Think you that it could be
made larger, say life-size or near it, and be used as entertainment here in The
Angry Porcupine? An attraction, as it were?”
Balefire glanced at the scurrying figures and stared briefly in
concentration. The warrior put on a burst of speed and cornered his foe
against a gnawed beefbone, a battle-axe flashed in the candlelight, and the creature
expired with a thin scream. Both figures disappeared.
The scarred Warmage sighed again, reached for his mug of ale, found it empty,
quirked an eyebrow, and smiled faintly as it refilled itself. He started
to drink, hesitated, stared for an instant across the table, and nodded briefly
as another filled mug appeared across from him. The chair nearest the mug
slid away from the table.
“Sit, my friend, and have a drink.” As Edwynster complied, the big dark
elf attempted something near to a friendly smile. “Aye, I could make the
illusion larger. I could have a dozen warriors and creatures skirmishing
around the tables if I liked. But I shall not. I well remember the
days, not so long gone, when the Porcupine had no need of illusions for
excitement, and attracted patrons a-plenty. It has grown quiet, my friend.”
“If you will pardon my saying so, milor...ah...ahem...do you think it might be
the...ah...change in management?”
“There is no need to look so apprehensive, old friend. Whatever you may have
heard, I am not so quick to take offence. Aye, it may be that news of
Elfiran's semi-retirement has caused some patrons to stay away. It also
may be that my reputation causes others to avoid the inn. None were as
surprised as I when Elfiran left it to me to run, since it so much seemed like
setting a wolf to guard sheep...”
“Ah, yes, I was meaning to mention the reduced stocks...” Edwynster began, but
subsided at a glare from the Warmage.
“I have a standing order with our supplier to replenish stock every other day,
and to charge it to my personal account. You need not worry about the
costs, my friend...but should you find the supplier growing lax in his
deliveries, by all means let me know. We shall see how he likes spending
a week or two living as a frog, or a worm.” The menace in his voice matched the
crimson glow of his eyes, and Edwynster suppressed a shiver at the expression
that briefly crossed Balefire's countenance.
“No, no...that, ah...is not necessary. And yet...I rather miss the excitement
we had until recently. If I may say so, you appear somewhat restless
yourself.”
The Warmage smiled wryly. “Aye, restless and bored, if truth be
told. Twilight is off on a solitary quest for the Mages' Guild, and Nyx
has dropped out of sight on some mission of her own. I have not heard
from my brother of late, and Mea Culpa has not been around for some time.
Alduin is off somewhere penning some new work, and our other friends appear to
have scattered about their various tasks. We lack heroes, Edwynster, not
entertainment. I could almost wish that the Dark Brotherhood would make
an other attempt on the Porcupine...”
“I think that rather unlikely, after what happened last time. And that
freelance assassin last week...the word has
doubtless gone out about his fate.”
The big Warmage chuckled -- an unnerving sound -- and said, “Aye, after I hung
what was left of him from the tree for the ravens. I believe he was
working alone, however. Just a youngster making attempt on the old
Warmage, trying for a quick jump in reputation. Well, he will get no
older.”
“I would welcome news of a new conflict, or a likely quest”, the
mercenary-turned-innkeeper sighed. “I do fear lest my skills grow rusty
with disuse.”
“I think you need not fear that just yet”, Edwynster said as he rose
ponderously to his feet, “for The Angry Porcupine has never gone overly long
without some sort of adventure starting here. “Tis but a matter of time,
methinks.”
“I hope you are right, Edwynster.” Balefire stretched and flexed his
hands, and reached once more for his mug. Outside, hoofbeats clattered.
And a carriage drew up, drawn by six alabaster
horses that appeared to be all the
same, the carriage was ornate ebony woodwork detailed with gold leaf and on the door was an emblem of a
black oak tree on a green background, all this looked verily spectacular, but
more interesting was the fact ........ there is no driver, footmen or other
servants about.
The door of the carriage opened as by it self, and
a woman descended from the steps, one dainty foot after the other and slowly
moved towards the entrance of the Inn.
The door of the Porcupine creaked open, this got
Balefires attention, as it sounded like one of those interminable dungeon
doors, he looked up and gazed towards the person entering.
What he saw was nothing but astounding, a picture
of loveliness that ingrained every cell in your body.
The woman was dressed in a long evening gown, made
what seemed like a million little dots of the purest dwarven gold and each dot
had the ability to move by it's own free will showing now and then little diagrams
of black oak trees on a lighter back ground.
Balefires gaze went from her feet clad in shallow
golden pumps with never before seen high pointed heels, to her slim ankles up
the site of her well tanned leg, just visible through the slit in the site of the
gown along her minuscule midriff, and continued upwards to a very low cut
décolleté that was indeed well endowed and finally to her face.
Black tresses of hair cascaded down to her bare
shoulders in a luxury that was so thick and shiny it reminded Balefire of a
certain past companion, her face had a beatific smile with a languorous look in
her eyes that seem to say: I need you, her violet pupils where framed in
lashes so long and curly they appeared to have a life of there own.
“Good evening”, She said in a low but sleepy
voice, “I am the Contessa of Ebonheart, maybe you have heard of me !
***The door of the
Porcupine creaked open, this got Balefires attention, as it sounded like one of
those interminable dungeon doors, he looked up and gazed towards the person
entering. ***
“I must have some of my Thieves'
Guild friends bring me some proper oil to see to those hinges”, the Warmage
muttered to himself, and then stiffened in his seat, unconsciously squaring his
massive shoulders as he got a good look at the new arrival.
***The woman was
dresses in a long evening gown, made what seemed like a million little dots of
the purest dwarven gold and each dot had the ability to move by it's own free
will showing now and then little diagrams of black oak trees on a lighter back
ground. ***
“Now *that* is an effect that
Twilight would appreciate”, thought the scarred mercenary mage, “I shall have
to find out just how it is achieved. The pattern looks vaguely familiar,
as well...”
***”Good evening”, She
said in a low but sleepy voice, “I am the Contessa of Ebonheart, maybe you have
heard of me!***
As he rose, Balefire
used a quick scrying cantrip to observe the coach in which she had
arrived. A frown flitted briefly across his face, to be replaced with a
pleasant -- but not altogether sincere -- smile. Sweeping his cloak back,
he essayed a courtly bow.
“Good evening,
M'Lady. Your beauty graces my humble establishment. You are most
welcome. I am devastated that I have yet to have heard of you, especially
since I am, at least in name, a prince of Ebonheart, myself. I have been
gone for a long time, however, and I do not claim the title in any case.
Please take a seat here by the fire, and tell me how things proceed at
home. I am”, he raised an eyebrow just a touch, and the observant might
have noticed a suspicious gleam in his crimson eyes, “especially interested in
your arms...they are not those of Ebonheart, as I am sure you know. I do
not recall seeing a black oak ere this...are they your family arms, perhaps?”
He seated
her and waved a hand; a bottle of wine, goblets, and tray of sliced meats,
bread, cheese, and fruit appeared on the table. Taking the seat across
from her, he adjust his cloak's fall, brushing his hand against the hilt of his
dagger to ensure its easy accessibility.
His
sensitive ears picked up a faint keening from the Staff of the Dawn, from where
it hung over the bar. A warning from the semi-sentient staff could mean
many things...the entrapped Ancient Vampires within it were reliable, but could
hardly be said to mean their enslaver well.
The
warrior archmage smiled and poured wine for his guest and himself.
Lifting his goblet in a toast, he said, “To Ebonheart, and to you, M'lady.”
(Mea Culpa)
Oh my oh my, I had trouble keeping a straight
face, I however declined the wine and said, “Please do not trouble yourself in
trying to get me tipsy with this peasant brew, has the house of Ebonheart
gone so far into decline that you must run a Tavern, and a very low class tavern
if you cannot afford a decent Evereska Elixir” pouting my lips and fluttering
my lashes, I sighed deeply, which in turn gave the desired affect with my
bosom.
I then slowly started to undo the clip at the
front of my dress, once undone I removed the clip in it's entirety and with a
big sizzle a cloud of smoke arose around me, vaguely pink in color.
The smoke eventually dissipated, and I couldn't
control myself any longer, I burst out in a fit of laughter and tried to say,
“Oh Bale honey, you should have seen the expression on your face, when I
introduced myself”
The smoke had completely cleared up now, and
Balefire could see what all the laughter was about, standing in front of him
was none other than me, Mea Culpa, dressed in her usual Elven Chain mail, when
the door burst open and J'layah and Zarth bundled true yelling at the tops of
their lungs, “did we get him”, “did we get him” !!!
I finally was able to control my joy and looking
at Ol' Red Eyes, I said, “We sure did guy's, let me show you taking the clip
that was on my Magicked dress, I muttered a few words and a life size picture
of Balefire popped in existence saying,
“Good evening, M'Lady. Your beauty graces my humble establishment.
You are most welcome. I am devastated that I have yet to have heard of
you, especially since I am, at least in name, a prince of Ebonheart, myself. “ A frown flitted briefly across his
face, to be replaced with a pleasant -- but not altogether sincere -- smile. Sweeping his cloak back, he essayed a
courtly bow.
Everybody thought it was a good joke, especially
Zarth, who was whooping and hooping like their was no end.
I walked a bit closer to my old friend in arms,
planted a firm kiss on his mouth and said, “ Would you forgive a poor Wood Elf
for making fun of you?”
***Oh my oh my, I had
trouble keeping a straight face, I however declined the wine and said, “ please
do not trouble yourself in trying to get me tipsy with this peasant brew,
has the house of Ebonheart gone so far into decline that you must run a Tavern,
and a very low class tavern if you cannot afford a decent Evereska Elixir”
pouting my lips and fluttering my lashes, I sighed deeply, which in turn gave
the desired effect with my bosom. ***
Suppressing -- with difficulty -- a flash of anger, the Warmage replied as
civilly as he could, “I assure you M'Lady, that my running a tavern has nought
to do with the fortunes of House Ebonheart. What is more, this is no mere
tavern, but The Angry Porcupine, that very tavern which has become the stuff of
legend and bardsong many times over, a gathering place of heroes such as does
not exist elsewhere in Tamriel, nor hardly among the other planes. I
count myself proud to have been given its stewardship by my old comrade
Elfiran.” Pausing for a sip of wine, he narrowed his eyes and stared a
moment at her goblet. “As for the quality and provenance of the drinks,
M'Lady, there is little or nothing which may not be procured for the
discerning. I invite you to try your drink again, now.”
***I then slowly
started to undo the clip at the front of my dress, once undone I removed the
clip in it's entirety and with a big sizzle a cloud of smoke arose around me,
vaguely pink in color.***
The dusky mercenary remained
impassive but his left hand made the motions of a warding spell, in the event
that the magic should be an attack.
***The smoke eventually
dissipated, and I couldn't control myself any longer, I burst out in a fit of
laughter and tried to say, “Oh Bale
honey, you should have seen the expression on your face, when I introduced
myself”
The smoke had
completely cleared up now, and Balefire could see what all the laughter was
about, standing in front of him was none other than me, Mea Culpa, dressed in
her usual Elven Chain mail, when the door burst open and J'layah and Zarth
bundled true yelling at the tops of their lungs, “did we get him”, “did we get
him” !!! ***
Chagrined but pleased, Balefire
abandoned the spell he had begun, and allowed his dusky features to fall into a
pleased but wry smile. Shaking his head, he raised a hand in greeting,
and began to laugh.
***I finally was able to control
my joy and looking at Ol' Red Eyes, I said, “We sure did guy's, let me show you
taking the clip that was on my Magicked dress, I muttered a few words and a
life size picture of Balefire popped in existence saying, “Good evening,
M'Lady. Your beauty graces my humble establishment. You are most
welcome. I am devastated that I have yet to have heard of you, especially
since I am, at least in name, a prince of Ebonheart, myself. “ A
frown flitted briefly across his face, to be replaced with a pleasant --
but not altogether sincere -- smile. Sweeping his cloak back, he essayed
a courtly bow.
Everybody thought it
was a good joke, especially Zarth, who was whooping and hooping like their was
no end.
I walked a bit closer
to my old friend in arms, planted a firm kiss on his mouth and said, “ Would
you forgive a poor Wood Elf for making fun of you?” ***
Ah, Mea, I should have
realized. I must be growing unwary through lack of action. How
could I fail to forgive my old sparring partner? A bonny jest, my
friends, I warrant it to have been. I was well and fairly trapped: I
concede it freely. And you are most welcome, all of you.”
The
Warmage raised his voice and began, “Ho, lay a feast...”
But the
Porcupine's staff were already bustling into the common room laden with
provender, and Balefire turned to his friends with a grin. “Most welcome,
indeed, and it appears that the party is about to begin. Pray fill me in,
whilst we eat and drink, on what you have been about since last we met.”
(Mea Culpa)
Well now this was a tall question, but since we
had a rather large repast to get through, there was plenty of time.
So I started to explain, “ we have all been away
home for a while, me, to Valenwood where I picked up this little clip, it was
made by an old family friend.” Mea sighed, “One of the few people who have not
yet abandoned the Culpa's, and he made it for me so I can have a disguise with
the possibility of capturing images, in case I needed it to clear our name”, I
smiled, while my memory went back to the little village, with the white house
with a real living thatch roof, where my old friend Ci Gama lived.
He, I explained “ is the stereo type of an old
Mage, you know, white straggly hair, dark blue robe with arcane symbols on it,
a gnarled wooden staff “ Laughing I said, “ but he refuses point blank to where
a pointed hat, he reckons they are for the yummies (Young Upcoming Mages) to
show off, so he generally wears a ringlet with a blue sapphire” .
“He also has this amazing dog, it's kinda black
with white spots and really intelligent eyes, who seems to understand
everything you say “ I remember once asking Ci, “ is he your familiar?” at
which he responded “ yer once you get to know him he's very familiar” Grinning,
I reiterated how the dog promptly started to get very familiar with my leg.
Ci just muttered, “ down Dog “ and the dog ( who's
name happened to be 'Dog' ) looked at Ci as if to say “ why can't I have any
fun?”
But yes I had a nice relaxing time a real holiday
even, I started to put another slice of delicious Venison in my mouth when
Zarth spoke.
Every one looked at Zarth with a sad frown, and
Zarth realizing he had taken of his mask to eat, went red in the face, quickly
put the mask back on, as if to hide his discoloration and repeated “ Zarth went
home to, but there was no home left, all gone”. he then removed his mask and
got stuck into his dinner with gusto.
J'layah was about to say something ...
“It is good to see all of you are in good spirits”
J'layah said, “ however all is not as it seems, You all know about my sister’s
plight.
“We did eventually get to the Dark Brotherhood
hideout where we managed to defeat some very interesting traps, very deadly and
ingenious traps at that, one consisted of a block of stone shooting out of the
side of the wall and then it fell down with a serious bang, lucky I was with my
speed, else I would have been as flat as one of Zarth's jokes.
“After a while we got into the main chamber, which
was warded with protection spells of a dark nature, and thank the gods we where
able to dispel, the chamber it self was empty, except for an playing card, a
black Ace of Spades, on the Card the words “Too Late, Too Late, Too Late, Too Late”
where scribbled in a red ink(?), other wise the place was as empty as my purse.
“So I can only presume that some one informed the
Dark Brotherhood of our Itinerary and they took appropriate action” J'layah
said frowning.
“This does bring the question forward, who
betrayed us?”
J’layah could feel her felt anger build up inside
her and was sure that her facial expression was not exactly pleasurable, with a
considerable effort she controlled herself and growled “ Who could it be, Who?
Tell me, I need to find my sister.”
She slumped in her seat, food untouched and looked
around the table, misery showing out of every pore in her body ...
Balefire's dark visage grew grimmer as he listened to
J'layah's tale, until it became a mask of savage fury. Appalled, the gathered
comrades fell silent. His voice when he finally spoke was a snarl near
bereft of humanity. “We ended up assaulting the Citadel and saving
Tamriel from an ancient evil, and the last of the Horned Council had been using
the Dark Brotherhood as cat’s-paws...that much we discovered. We
initially set out on the quest to save your sister, J'layah, for all that her
kidnapping was a ploy to entrap us. I did not imagine that the Assassins'
Guild -- whether officially or through rogue members -- could be so stupid or
oblivious as to continue down that path, when the original plan and its
perpetrator are dust in the wind.”
The Warmage’s voice was sharp steel on a whetstone as he continued. “When
you dropped into our camp in the quest to
save your sister, M'Lady, we were hunting members of the Dark Brotherhood, for
they had declared feud with Elfiran. We came to defend the Porcupine.
Now, the Angry Porcupine's new master returns to the quest for your sister and
if need be to the original feud.”
He rose, the muscles in his forearms and biceps twisting like hawsers as he
straightened his shoulders. “I am a Warmage, an archmage and a mercenary,
survivor of hundreds of battles and a master of the Art and of war. I
swear to retrieve your sister and to return to her her soul, MLady. If the Dark
Brotherhood would enter a war, a war they shall have. They have earned
Balefire's wrath. Mayhap some of our erstwhile comrades would relish
riding with me, and I would welcome them. Whether with partners or alone,
however, I ride to the confounding of the Assassins.”
He raised his scarred hand high, and the glowing staff flew from above the bar
into his fist. Its evil keening abused the ear, but was drowned out in
his bellowed warcry. “Red and Black! Balefire rides to war!”
(Sri Daoud)
It was a dark and stormy night. Lightning flashing
to the north was creating shadows that mimicked the shape of the vines creeping
up the walls of the inn as I rode up.
A sign banging back and forth in the wind bore the image of a porcupine in full
alarm. A-gr- Po-cup--e from what was visible with a night vision spell.
Even closer. I frowned. Somebody was crouching just outside the vines.
Assassin's Guild? It wasn't impossible that the guild had learned I was on my
way south after having collected my fee for cleaning out their Al-Qr'd'n
chapter. But to send somebody who would cast such an inexpert invisibility
spell? Insulting.
Just outside the stable I cast a remote touch spell. He screamed as two
hands grabbed his shoulders, a third tore away his weapons, and a fourth lifted
to me his coin purse and other valuables.
Drawing near, I spun him around and around, finishing by flinging him against
the doors of the inn.
A large man appeared at the door.
I bowed and said, “Sri Daoud at your service, sir. Be you open for custom?”
Edwynster looked from the crumpled figure to that of the adventurer who spoke. “By the look of yer fallen foe, he be one of the Dark Brotherhood.We be open, as we always be. And if ye be an enemy to the Assassins' Guild, the new owner will be making ye doubly welcome, Milord. Elfiran has retired, or nearly so, and left the Porcuppine in the care of his old comrade, Balefire. Mayhap ye have heard of him? The warmage from Ebonheart in Morrowind? He has just learned that which has caused him to wax wroth, and it bodes not well for the Dark Brotherhood. Looks like war, it does, and 'at suits the boss right well. 'Tis his profession, ye see, and he be good at it. But 'light and come in, Milord. Ye may speak to him yerself. He be the big dark elf, he of the crimson eyes. Mind ye stay clear of his staff, now. 'Tis enchanted, and a fell thing, vampiric life-stealer it is, not caring whom it strikes, if Milord Balefire keeps it not in check.”