HankTheMoose
patreon
3.1 Departure
🕑 Added 2024-10-31 10:48:28 +0000 UTCBernt carefully visualized the spellform for banefire in his mind’s eye. It was a lot more difficult than tracing the spell out in the air in front of him, but he’d been practicing. Still, it took more than ten seconds to be sure he wasn’t leaving anything out of the intricate pattern. The spell was modeled after a simple fireball—most of it was just a fireball—but the portion of the spell that defined exactly what was to be burned was heinously complex.
Behind him, porters sweated despite the chill air as they hauled goods out along the pier toward the riverboat that lay docked at the end. It was distracting, but there was no point in practicing combat magic in a quiet environment.
The spell was still too slow to cast like this, but he would improve. Unlike a fireball, banefire burned on the essence of demons. Considering what he’d been up against in the last few months, this was the spell he needed to master above all others. With an effort of will, Bernt channeled mana through his right hand, aiming down and flexing the branching pathways of the investiture that ran through the limb as he did to guide its flow. A missile of boiling gray flame shot out of his hand and splattered out onto the water in front of him, sending curls of steam up to join the low fog hanging over the river.
The slow-moving current began to carry it away, and Bernt watched it intently. Five seconds. Ten. Still, the fire didn’t go out. Finally.
With an effort of will, Bernt dispersed the mana that made up the spell, extinguishing it. It worked! The banefire was sustaining itself with ambient mana. From now on, given time, he could turn an entire battlefield into a deathtrap for demons—one that wouldn’t burn his allies. At least until Jori got back. They would need to work out some kind of protection for her. Would regular clothes work? Banefire didn’t scorch mundane materials, so maybe it was that simple…
Concentrating, Bernt produced manaburn with his right hand and simultaneously cast a control cantrip with his left. He seized control of the white plasma as it manifested and drew it up into the air in front of him. Then he practiced reshaping it into a tiny wall, a thin line and a ball. The exercise was easy, but it might still help him develop his control a little.
It was nothing like trying to manipulate a giant wall of flames had been. But still, every little bit helped.
Bernt had learned first-hand what this simple cantrip could do in the right circumstances—and with his perpetual flame investiture, he was in a better position to create those circumstances than most pyromancers ever would be. More importantly, he’d seen what could happen if his control slipped, even for a moment. But this wasn’t the place to test himself. He’d need to find time to go outside the walls and do it at scale.
Jori had been gone for over a week, but Bernt still felt lost. He wanted to act—to get her back, or to help her do whatever she was doing over there, it didn’t really matter. Just something. But there was nothing he could do that would make a difference. It was infuriating, but he’d found it to be a powerful motivator as well.
At the end of the day, Radast had pushed him around and banished Jori as he had because he could. Worse than that, it was probably the easiest choice available for him. Bernt wasn’t a threat to him, either directly or politically, so he hadn’t tried to find a way to make it work.
Bernt couldn’t change that now, but as long as he didn’t have a better solution, he was going to make sure that the next time someone came for him or one of his friends, pushing him around wouldn’t be the easy way out. He couldn’t very well start setting Beseri citizens on fire, but growing more powerful with magic was the first step to building every kind of influence as a mage—or a wizard.
And right now, that meant practicing his spells and working out a way to finish his first augmentation. The thought sent a spike of worry worming its way through his belly. Would it even work, with his strange second investiture?
Someone plopped down beside him, letting his legs dangle off the side of the pier.
“Morning.” Torvald said cheerfully. “Coming to see Josie off, too?”
Bernt grunted in the affirmative. He cast another banefire spell from his right hand, letting it splash onto the surface of the waters.
“She’s going down to try to get Jori clearance to come back without a pact,” he explained. “I can’t come with her, but it seems ungrateful to not at least see her off.”
“Yeah…” Torvald said. “I wish I could go see it. A few of my relatives in Teres invited me, actually, when they heard about the battle. They suggested I could meet the king, even. My parents want me to do it, but my resignation doesn’t go into force for another two weeks, and I can’t just go visiting family regardless. When I’m free of my obligations here, I’m going where the goddess leads.”
Bernt stared. “You don’t know where, at all? And you already quit your job?”
The paladin nodded. “Comes with the territory—it’s about faith. Ruzinian pilgrims show up where they’re needed. People don’t have to come to us.”
“You know, I overheard your dad talking to Ed the day you signed up for the Underkeepers. I don’t think he’s going to take this very well. If I had to guess, I’d say he was hoping to set you up with a nice, comfortable gig as his successor. You’d probably do a better job, if you don’t mind me saying.”
Torvald’s expression grew complicated. “He didn’t pick the job, you know. Wasn’t trained for it, either. My grandfather on my mother’s side put him here so he wouldn’t embarrass him. He wanted to make sure that didn’t happen to me.” He scratched at the back of his neck sheepishly. “Anyway, he and I already had that talk when I joined the Temples to become an acolyte. He was probably hoping I’d become a paladin to Noruk. There are lots of those in the military and Teres’ crown guard commander is one as well. They’re well-suited to it because—you know, war god.”
“And instead you’re joining the legendary order of heroes. You know why they call them heroes, right?”
“Because they tend to die.” Torvald said simply. “I know. I still like them. It makes sense to me. It’s what being a paladin is all about. As long as I align myself with Her will perfectly, I’ll be unstoppable. The other side of that blessing is that I have to remain true to Her purpose, or I’ll fail. I felt it, in the battle. We all make mistakes, but Ruzinian paladins tend to get into more difficult situations than most. We have a lot less room for error.”
“Just as long as you know what you’re signing up for.” Bernt said a little doubtfully. He liked Torvald and he was going to be sad to see him go. Wanting to change the subject, Bernt looked up and around. “Shouldn’t she be here by now? The boat looks loaded up.”
The porters had stopped hauling goods down the pier and most of the crates that had been piling up on the deck were gone—stowed down below. Sure enough, when he looked back the other way, he spotted the warlock walking out toward them.
She was alone. Bernt knew she had family in the city, but the one time Torvald had asked her about them when they were all working together she’d been very cagey. He guessed they didn’t approve of her choice of profession, or maybe she just wanted to protect them.
After a moment she caught sight of them and waved. Torvald returned the gesture with a grin and Bernt nodded to her in greeting.
“Hey guys. What’s up, are you planning to come and help me plead my case?”
Bernt snorted. “I doubt I’d improve your chances. Torvald’s word might carry some weight now, though. They’re really going to send you down to try to handle the case on your own?”
The Solicitor raised an eyebrow to him in challenge. “What’s the matter, think I can’t handle it?” Then she shrugged in resignation. “No, it’s because Radast doesn’t care if we win this one. It’s generally in our interests to improve the legal position for demons in Besermark, but having Jori back here might not be. The deal we made with Jori is that I go and present her case, so that’s what I’m doing. Besides, I’m representing the Underkeepers with this and suing the Solicitors Organization for interfering with a government employee in pursuit of her duties. I’ve got a statement and an official complaint from Fiora to kick it off.”
“You got Fiora to help?” Bernt asked in surprise. Jori had developed a cordial relationship with many of the Underkeepers, but wouldn’t have expected Fiora to go so far as to start a legal battle over Jori’s rights.
“Sure I did,” Josie said. “I want to win! Besides, Fiora was happy to help—she said that the Underkeepers didn’t leave people behind. It’s one of Ed’s rules, or something. She was under his command in the army. Did you know that?.”
Bernt nodded. “Yeah, though I’m kind of surprised. Ed always made it sound like he’d kill Jori himself if she made a wrong move.”
“Maybe, but she didn’t, did she?” Josie replied with a shrug. “She practically saved the city. The rumors that the Solicitors are spreading are exaggerated, but they’re not really wrong.”
Bernt grimaced at the reference to the heavily embellished rumors that the Solicitors had started spreading about Jori the day after the battle. He still didn’t like it.
“They’re wildly inaccurate.” He scoffed. “Not to mention they take credit for Torvald’s role in it.”
Torvald shrugged magnanimously. “It doesn’t matter. Everybody in the Temple District knows better, and the public rarely gets the facts, anyway. It wouldn’t have worked out without Jori regardless.”
Just then, a large, weathered-looking man stepped up to them and cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Miss Solicitor, Ma’am? We’re going to be casting off soon. Are you ready to board?”
“Yes, of course. Sorry.” Josie said, flushing.
“Hold on!” Torvald interjected, fumbling at his pocket and producing a stick of incense. He held it out to Josie. “Here, I wanted to give you this. You should light it at the shrine to Ruzinia in Teres. I prayed over it, and I think you’re aligned well enough with her purpose that you might get her blessing. You took the case to help Ed, and he might be in the most hopeless situation I’ve ever heard of. Jori’s odds aren’t really that great either, but I’m not sure if that’ll help.”
Josie raised a very skeptical eyebrow, and for a moment Bernt thought she was going to argue with him again, but then she simply accepted the gift and stowed it in her robes.
“Thanks, Torvald.”
Checking over her shoulder, Josie leaned toward Bernt and said, in a low voice. “Keep in mind that Radast is going to be watching you, Bernt. He doesn’t like you very much. Don’t do anything stupid. Those rumors going around aren’t going to hurt Jori. If the law fails, sometimes popularity is all you have left to lean on.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and hurried down toward the boat, Bernt to consider what she’d said in bewilderment. As she boarded, Torvald put a hand on Bernt’s shoulder.
“She’s right,” he said seriously, much to Bernt’s surprise. “You need to be careful. The Underkeepers are popular right now, but people like to turn on their heroes.”
Bernt squinted at Torvald. “Why would they do that? We saved the city. Twice now, actually. At this point, we deserve some respect for that, don’t we?”
“Sure,” the paladin agreed. “But, you should hear the whispers that are going around in the Temple District. There’s a new power in town—an organization of misfit mages that hired a bunch of heathens—goblins, a demon and at least one warlock to become a significant armed force inside the city. Within a couple of months, enemies invade the city and kill a bunch of people. Twice. And they came in right through the Underkeepers both times. Suspicious, right? If they weren’t complicit, then surely they’re dangerously incompetent.”
“But that’s ridiculous!” Bernt spluttered. “We fought the kobolds and the Duergar. People died! And the Duergar are threatening multiple cities, they didn’t just attack us here.”
“It won’t stop the street preachers from saying it. The Underkeepers are a challenge to the Temple District’s influence in Halfbridge.” Torvald shook his head and frustration crept into his voice as he spoke. “The temples were mostly too absorbed in their stupid political infighting before the battle, that’s one of the reasons I went to join up in the first place. But that’s over now—they ended up playing a supporting role in a fight against a demon lord! The Solicitors, the Underkeepers, you and Jori humiliated them by facing the demons head-on like that while they were playing back-up for the adventurers, the mages and the berserkers. Even the rangers arguably did more for the battle than the paladins. They didn’t work together.”
Bernt shook his head in disbelief. “That’s insane. They’re jealous because they weren’t the ones to defeat Nuros?”
“They’re still just people.” Torvald said. ”Now that it’s over, some of the temples are trying to save face by giving me all the credit. It’s not that different from what the Solicitors are doing with Jori, to be honest. Honestly, I’ll be glad when Ruzinia calls me to go and leave all this behind me. But you should be careful. Take popular support where you can get it. If you contradict the stories about Jori too much, they’ll use it against you and the Underkeepers as a whole.”
Comments
Stephen Pearson
Thanks for the chapter! :-)
