Bernt visualized the spellform in his mind, using a fio trace it in the air from memory for the first time. He kept his eyes closed, both to help him trate and to keep himself from peeking at the scroll in his p.
He was sitting outside the gates, at his favorite studying spot down by the river. Jori was doing what she called “training exercises” with her “intern” – a small kobold named Gnugg that she’d taken under her wing after finding him in the dungeon st month. Surprisingly, both she and the kobold had proven less likely to get into trouble when they were spending time together. Farrin, the matron mother of the Halfbridge orphanage, had grudgingly allowed it at the kobold's insistence.
As a side be, this new arra meant that Bernt could finally get some uninterrupted free time to practice his spellcasting. Experimenting with new fire spells indoors was never a good idea, and he didn’t actually know what this one did. What might 'cold fire' be good for? Was it literally cold? There was no way to know without trying. He’d asked Ed about it two weeks earlier and the archmage had just waved him off with a gruff “Do I look like some kind of damned pyromancer wizard?” a him off on his rounds.
Dayle didn’t kher, nor Fiora. That either made it a rare and potentially very useful spell, or random garbage that someone had ied as an experiment or something. There was no way to know without trying it.
sidering that Bernt had found it in a trash heap, he guessed it would likely be the tter. Still, it was a fire spell. Even if it was useless now, maybe he’d be able to use some principle in its spellform to help him iure. It had been far easier to untahan the unfamiliar principles and bewildering runifigurations used in its uncastable transmutation spellforms.
So, in an effort to finally push his capabilities further, he’d spent the st two weeks meticulously memorizing the scroll. Testing was the step.
A mage didn't teically have to trace the spellform in the air to cast a spell. In fao physical motion was required at all. Hand motions, whistling, humming, ting, or whatever were just a mnemonic devices to help the caster visualize the spellform more perfectly. The runes and symbols that made up a spell didn’t just have to be pced in their proper order, they had to be assembled into a two or three-dimensional image, depending on the spell, and eapo had to be oriented and proportioned correctly for the spell to work properly. A focus could help with that a bit, but any signifit mistake could cause it to fail, or worse, lead to uable effects.
To cast the spell properly now, though, he had to go further. trating, he found the fs that had installed themselves into the spellform – the influence of his iure – and removed them one by one.
By the time he finished, sweat was beading on his forehead, but he’d do. The spell was ready. With an effort of will, Bernt poured power into the spellform, activating it. Then, he mentally hurled it up and away from himself as he opened his eyes.
A e of blueish-gray fme erupted outward, shooting up into the air. It wasn’t as bright as normal fire, nor as loud. Pyromancy was, as a rule, not a quiet form of magic. jured fire was usually apanied by anything from a soft woosh to a thunderous boom, depending on the size of the fme and its heat.
This spell, though, was silent.
It also didn’t seem to radiate a, which Bernt supposed would make sense for something called “cold fire”. The spell was exactly what it sounded like. Fire, yes, but cold. That sounded both nonsensical to Bernt and useless. But, not releasing a didn’t necessarily mean it couldn’t burn anything. It was magic, after all. He should try casting it at something, maybe a bit of woht at that moment, though, he didn’t have the tration to try casting it again.
He got up, taking in the view as the su over the hills and threw his shadow out over the river behind him. It was beautiful, but he wouldn’t take the time to enjoy it properly today. He o get something to eat and then tinue his search for a new pce to live. He’d given up searg the area around the docks weeks ago – Rina had apparently spread the word that he was some kind of dangerous warlock, or the same rumor that had seen him evicted had reached their ears.
Now he’d have to start looking outside the Lower Distritirely, which roblem. That was where all the cheap tes were. He’d have to try the crafters’ distriow. The temple distrily housed priests and temple-employees, so that was a non-starter. The Upper District was out of the question – even sleeping in someone’s shed in the upper district would probably break his budget. It wasn’t meant for people who spent their time orian things like work.
Sure, someone like Therion or his dad might teically have jobs, but they didn’t do them for the money. It hardly ted.
–--------
Ed sorted through the mail by urgency, giving each letter only a quick s before putting it in the appropriate pile on his desk. A drain at a tannery just outside the walls had clogged, and the smell was driving nearby busio close their doors and file pints with the t – urgent. Someone had noticed that a grate c a storm drain in the crafter’s district was rusted through – forward to city maintehe alchemists’ guild was following up on an alchemical spill in the crafters’ distribsp;Someone had dumped a potion cocktail a few weeks ago that mutated a of cockroaches into some kind of monstrous parody of their more mundane selves.
Fortunately, the pests iion had promptly climbed through the pipes and ied the alchemy shop, rather than nearby residential homes – nent. Besides, his Underkeepers weren’t officially certified to deal with alchemical spills yet, anyway.
Ed stared at the stack tiredly, hesitating for a moment. Then, he reached over and moved the pint over to his “urgent” pile. The cockroaches would multiply quickly. Besides, it had been over a month siheresa’s stupid stunt with Bernt – he o get the certifications done or the magistrate would start breathing down his neck.
Ashing his pipe in the bucket o his desk, he repacked and lit it again, using the familiar ritual to soothe his nerves. It didn’t really work.
He was still pushing down his annoya the Alchemists’ Guild as he opehe letter and began sing it, so it took him a moment tister that it wasn’t just another job.
Leaning back, he checked the header and then began to read it again carefully. It y of an official message to Iria from the head branch of the Mages’ Guild in Teres. She or one of her people must have dropped off a copy for him while he was out.
Archmage Iria,
Thank you for keeping me in the larding the ongoing developments in Halfbridge. I spoke with Guildmaster Deirin of the Adventurers’ Guild and I thought you might be ied to know that several parties have reported hostile enters with small groups of duergar in the Azure Caverns and the Depths below. When I approached the Solicitors’ offi Teres, they told me they were already iigating demonic activity in the Depths. Despite this, they seemed unwilling to definitively he Duergar presence as its cause, as your local branch head apparently did.
There are unfirmed rumors of sightings beh Loamfurth as well. Deirin is w to get more eyes down below to keep an eye ouation as it develops, and we’re w together to ehat the more martial temple orders are at least making some quiet preparations for a rge-scale flict.
The King has been made aware of the situation, but you know how long it take for the court to move on a threat. Several guilds and promi personages have already taken note and are quietly suggesting that we’re looking for an excuse to arm up in order to grow our influence or even seize power from the nobility. I urge you to prepare, but be careful. We ’t upset the political bance, or we’ll be fighting each other by the time the Duergar e spilling out of the Depths.
Best Regards
Archmage Paolos
Ed put the letter down with a snort. As if they he remihey were the ones with a Duergar army stationed less than a mile away, even if they had one of their own standing in the way. While several of their own local guilds were doing their best to give him a headache every damned day, nobody really doubted the threat that the dwarves represented.
When he and Iria had presehe idea of creating a new guard force to the t, the old t had practically jumped at the ce.
Creating any kind of extraneous defense force was a dangerous move for a Beseri noble – it might be sidered a threat to the King’s absolute authority over military matters, after all. So, Narald’s eagerness and his willio take the risk said a lot about how seriously he was taking the Duergar threat. It, perhaps, said even more about his fiden General Arice, who was tasked with proteg the city of Halfbridge from that threat.
It likely didn’t hurt that Iria had gotten Guard ander Righmond to sign off on the proposal before they prese. The lump of a man wanted nothing to do with real work, never mind anything genuinely risky. He was more than happy to throw his weight behind the idea of putting the Underkeepers between his guard and the enemy army. Especially sinbsp;failing to back the proposal would have put him in charge of security for Narald’s new Uy project by default. That would include not only spending a lot of time underground, it also meant liaising with the Beseri army on behalf of the t.
sidering how tehe retionship between the t and general Arice already was, Righmond could be fiven for his reluce to take on that particur job. Ed didn’t really want it either, but it was fialking to annoying people was just the price of doing business.
Now, Ed just had to hope that he’d actually find some reasonably qualified applits to join his new Underkeeper guard force. Who would possibly want to join an order that, until now, had served as little more than a ve pce to exile politically inve mages?
The archmages’ stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t had dinner yet and it ast time to leave all this crap for tomorrow. There was a new restaurant that a few sea elves from the Vorellian Isles had just opened in the Upper Distrid he found that he was in the mood for some overly eborate cuisine. Heaving himself up out of his chair, he put the letter down oable, re-tied his robe to keep out the evening chill and grabbed his scarf from the hook on the door.
He stepped out into the main room of the Underkeepers’ headquarters and stopped in his tracks. There were dim lights on – small dles that someone had pced on a bench that just barely illumiwo small figures with eyes that glowed in the dark like those of a cat.
With a gesture, Ed cast a force barrier in front of himself and followed up with a light over his shoulder.. It illumihe two goblins, both of whom shrank ba annoya the brightness. O so far as to hold up a hand to block the gre.
her made any move or said anything for a moment. Thehe elder of the two, leaned forward and flicked the barrier with a finger, causing little ripples of light to ema from the point of impact. The balding goblin had a bit of gray in what was left of his bck hair, but wore a motley colle of armor that looked well used. The younger one was dressed in a normal tunid stared at him wide-eyed, apparently surprised at his rea.
Ed hesitated, trying to make sense of the se. What the hell?
“Hmph.” Ed grunted, dismissing the barrier. “We’re closed. What are you doing here?”
“Archmage.” The elder one nodded iing, apparently not in the least intimidated by Ed’s dispy of magic. “Word is that you’re looking fuards for the new Uy. We’re looking to join the Underkeepers.”