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12/31/2008 16:54:01   
Alixander Fey
Member

The few who have followed me since my return know that my writing has focused on a man by the name of Tara MageBorn. He is a young sorcerer, wrapped in dark robes and tangled with dark powers. I’ve written a little bit about him, smaller, stand-alone works. But now I want to tell you his story.

I can’t give you a year count, but this will take place before either the LoreMaster or the Cold (actually, depending on a few factors the LoreMaster might actually be included) and it will explain the enigma of Tara MageBorn to everyone.

MageBorn begins just as our sorcerer is preparing to enter a wizard’s contest. He and his wife live in his tower, just on the outskirts of House Vaden territory…


_____________________________


DF  Post #: 1
12/31/2008 16:56:51   
Alixander Fey
Member

MageBorn



Prologue



A cluster of green lights swirled aside as Myra stepped forward, carrying a cloak in her hands. The sprites buzzed in worry, ready to defend their master at a moments notice. Accustomed to her lover’s magic charms, the lithe mistress ignored them and approached him from behind.

“Are you ready?” she asked as she draped the cloak over his muscled shoulders. “You seem tense.”

The wizard smiled and met her gaze with piercing emerald eyes. Tenderly, he curved his hand around her wrist. “I’m terrified. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Myra leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Because you are the most powerful wizard this side of the river Enin,” she whispered into his ear, so close his skin tingled from her warm breath.

Wrapping his hands around her waist, Tara returned her kiss with more passion. “I wish I believed you. House Vaden is in desperate need of a victory today.” The spellcaster pushed away from his young bride and extended his hand.

“Dran!”

An ebon-shafted scepter snapped against the skin of his palm. A crystal the hue of his eyes scintillated atop the staff, summoning the green specks across the room. The buzzing sentries hovered around the wizard in erratic orbits, and Myra kept her distance.

“Are those things going to zap me?” she asked with a playful lilt to her voice. She mimed a frightened gesture and stumbled backwards.

Tara only smiled. “I don’t make mistakes like that, sweetheart. They are completely safe. They just don’t like you as much as I do.” His eyes sparkled as he spoke, partly from natural charm, and partly from arcane command.

“Well, in that case…” Myra leaned forward, kissing him on the base of his throat as she grasped his lowered cowl in both hands. When she pulled away, she raised the hood, covering everything but the glimmering orbs of his eyes.

The wizard strode forward confidently—until he reached the balcony door. His shoulder’s sagged, and he turned back to his wife in despair. “I don’t know if I’m up to it.”

With a compassionate frown, Myra wrapped her arms around her husband’s shoulders. “No one doubts you, my love. You are Tara MageBorn. You were born to succeed.”
DF  Post #: 2
12/31/2008 17:06:18   
Alixander Fey
Member

Chapter I



“I expect that by now you all know why I called you here,” the elf said in a low, flat voice. “The rules are very simple. Anyone who breaks them will be punished by death.” Tara marked the few wizards who gasped at his statement—they were the weak ones, and he had nothing to fear from them.

“The first rule is that you must not kill an enemy who has submitted. If you are so blinded as to kill a surrendered foe, you need not be here at all.” The wizard laughed to himself. My old teacher had the same rule, he remembered. He would always ask me, “Why kill a man when you can force him to serve you?”

“The second rule is that you may not outnumber your enemy. If you so chose to fashion alliances, you may. But if two allied wizards meet a single mage in battle, one of you must sit out. I’ll not have the best wizard here waylaid by seven of his compatriots.” Hmm… That’s good. I doubt there’s anyone here who could take me without an advantage in numbers. The cowled magicker surveyed his fellow contestants with a watchful eye. Borgan, the man directly to his left, he knew well. Aside from him, Tara had only met the rest of the wizards in passing duels. Two of them he had not fought personally, but he knew they would be no threat. Only one man was unfamiliar to him; a rugged-looking farm boy in the brown robes of a poor initiate. I wonder what he’s doing here anyway? Tara passed off the thought and surveyed Borgan again. He was undoubtedly the most powerful person here beside himself. And I beat him fairly last time. We’ll see what happens today.

“Are there any questions?” Omri’s words jolted him back to reality. The dragon in elf form paced across the rugged mountain terrain with both hands folded stiffly behind his back. “Any at all? I shall not be answering any concerns once the contest begins.” Get on with it already! Tara thought. He smoothed his black robe and noticed for the first time that Omri carried no sword on his belt. He raised his hand.

“Excuse me, dread lord. Where is the SpiritSong now?” The dragon leveled his gaze, amber eyes measuring the wizard and prying into his soul. Tara shivered as he threw guards around his thoughts.

“I will be waiting for you at the end of my maze, MageBorn, and I will have the sword in my grasp. That is all you need to know.” With that, the dragon snapped his head no one side, scanned the row of eight wizards for another question, and nodded. “Are we ready?” No one moved, so he nodded again.

Raising both hands in the air, Omri summoned magic. “Let us begin! The wizard who reaches me alive will have both the SpiritSong and my centuries of knowledge!”

“Griz’lem!”

Caught by the incantation, Tara disappeared. Omri’s contest had begun.




Tara MageBorn materialized outside a dark cave, still disoriented from the gut-wrenching pressure of teleportation. He tapped his staff twice against the ground, triggering a spell imbedded within the crystal. Emerald light shone through it, joining with the sprites trailing him to illuminate the shadows. He was alone. That was a good sign—he had plenty of time to prepare his first round of spells.

Chanting to himself, Tara opened the eyes of his mind to the spirits around him. Dragon spirits—trapped by an ancient curse from the Gods—lingered on Aduil to fuel magics of all kind, and with his spiritsight, he could see them perfectly. A wispy green dragon curled around him, interested to see this newcomer to its realm. To his left, a pair of red spirits snapped and clawed at each other, trapped by some age-old dispute. Looking past the immediate, he saw hundreds of spirits—red, blue, green, grey, even black and white—unfurled in arcane power. The magic in this place is powerful, he realized. He couldn’t remember seeing this many spirits in one place before.

His spiritsight was not hampered by stone walls. Looking past them, Tara saw a bright, pulsating light that resembled a star. Focusing on this star, he could feel thoughts, impressions, intentions… this was Borgan, he was sure. The confidence and experience radiating from the spirit could only belong to the erudite sorcerer from House Carn. He nudged the spirit with his mind, an action similar to wafting a chemical to see if it was dangerous. Borgan’s bright, friendly personality greeted him with the mental equivalent of a smile.

So, a sword that can deflect magic. Sounds interesting, huh? Think it’s everything it’s rumored to be?

Tara laughed to himself. Only Borgan could talk so calmly to an enemy. I sure hope so, Borgan. It will be a valuable asset to House Vaden when I wield it against House Carn. He didn’t know Borgan very well, but they had studied and even fought together in the past. He hoped the man would understand his joke.

Ha! Not likely, MageBorn! The man’s telepathy paused, hesitating. We both know this contest is between me and you, Tara. One of us is going to take the sword. We’re both fresh now, at full strength. What do you say? Want to fight now?

Tara stepped back instinctively, surprised. Then he measured the wizard’s proposition in his mind. He’s right. What if I’m forced to fight four or five wizards before I reach him? He would destroy me. The only danger… Will I have enough strength to defeat the other wizards once I stop him?


Borgan’s mental voice persisted. How about it, MageBorn? Are you up to it?

The sprites whirled around him in discomfort, sensing his preparation for battle. Yes, he said. I am ready. The wizard brightened the light in his staff, using it to illuminate his path as he followed the twisting labyrinth that stretched below the mountain. Omri had promised that his layer was abandoned, but he knew better than to trust a dragon. Likely, the centuries-old magicker had left traps to befuddle the players in his grand game. Rounding a narrow bend, Tara entered a hollow cavern. He could hear a river running somewhere in the distance, but the light from his staff was too dim to see much.

Borgan was already there, waiting. He wore a burgundy tunic, leather trousers, and a metal breastplate. As always, a sword hung at his side.

“You know, Borgan, you would probably scare away more enemies if you actually looked like a wizard.”

The older mage laughed and drew a carved wand. “So what’s it going to be, MageBorn? You want to surrender now, or do I have to waste my magic?”

Tara allowed his cloak to fold around him, leaving him barely visible as the glow from his crystal faded. “If you walk away now, Borgan, I’ll just kill you with one spell to the back of your head. That would be the easiest answer, don’t you think?”

Crouching, Borgan raised his wand. “If you looked any scarier, I’d say you were evil, MageBorn. You need to rely on your strength, not on a black cape.” Sweeping his wand through the air, he mumbled a few spell-words and summoned three fireballs. The orbs of flame shot forward at his unspoken command, blazing towards the younger wizard with blinding speed.

“Griz’lem!”

Tara’s reaction was instinctive. He didn’t want to waste the power of his wards by blocking the fireballs, so he simply teleported behind the other mage. Raising a hand, he spat a short syllable and sent Borgan flying into the cave wall. “Let’s dispense with parlor magics and cheap tricks,” he said. “I’d like to have a real duel.”

Borgan’s own defensive wards had softened his collision with the wall, so he turned quickly and pointed his wand at Tara.

“Eman s’yreva!”

A ball of translucent orange energy materialized around Tara, stopping him from teleporting again as it shrank around him. The technique was intended to crush, but Tara’s wards defended him before it harmed him. Several of the floating green orbs winked out as they diverted the magic. With no strain on his strength, MageBorn was freed. Raising his staff, he conjured a trio of larger green sprites—these intended to attack, not defend—and chanted a longer spell.

“Vas braz’n vaelr kam dran ja mi auk’grels!”

Icy wind whipped around the wizard, flaring his robes to form a specter-like visage as it shot towards his enemy. Borgan cursed when the wind cut into his skin—Tara had interspersed sharp crystals of ice that made for arcane daggers at high speeds. Using a spell of slowing, he took the edge off the wind; but Tara pushed harder, increasing his spell’s strength. The wrestled mentally for a moment, until MageBorn’s other spell-creations, the trio of green orbs, began to move. Shooting forward, they surrounded the other wizard in a spinning dance of emerald color. Borgan could not afford to take his strength away from fighting the wind to defend against the orbs—but he did regardless.

“De’kra!”

He stopped the arcane spheres with his own magic, leaving them motionless and seemingly docile. Just as he returned to fighting the wind, the complexity of Tara’s incantation manifested itself: he had engineered a second spell to trigger as soon as a magical hand touched the orbs. With surprising strength, the balls overpowered Borgan’s weak hold. Each spell forked into a jade lightning bolt that bit into his flesh.

The sorcerer cried out and collapsed to the floor, wincing as emerald fire surrounded his body. Tara kept up the attack, summoning a column of flame that flung the man against the far wall. Conjuring a trio of thick tendrils, the black-clad wizard stepped forward and raised his hand. The tendrils wrapped around the older sorcerer, separating themselves from their creators hand as they ensnared Borgan in their snake-like trap.

The armored wizard screamed, fighting the tentacles with his mental prowess. Before he could gain the upper hand, Tara cast a spell of pain on his spinal cord.

“Vrodr!”

Pure agony washed over Borgan; Tara could feel his torment rolling from his soul. He cast another spell, this one targeting the wizard’s mind. Pressing, MageBorn took another step forward. “Surrender, Borgan. I’ve beaten you.”

Crushed beneath the vise-grip of Tara’s spells, Borgan could do little to argue. “You’re strong, MageBorn. Stronger than I thought. I have been training… for months… to defeat you.” The man’s voice faded as Tara’s spells pushed him into unconsciousness.

Cursing, Tara reigned in his power. Bogran’s eyes widened for just a moment as he felt breath pour into his lungs again. “Oh…” he moaned. “You need me to yield, don’t you?” A smiled creased his pained face.

“I’m not going to kill you, Borgan. Not over a sword and a contest.” Tara’s voice crackled with dark power as he summoned spells that would kill the other wizard.

Borgan smiled. “So… if I pass out without yielding, you’re stuck…” His face relaxed as he surrendered to the darkness.

“Borgan!” Tara flicked his wrist outward, slamming the wizard against the cavern wall. “I will kill you!”

The man opened his eyes for a passing second. “I yield,” he breathed.

Releasing his spells, Tara dropped the man to the floor.



< Message edited by Alixander Fey -- 12/31/2008 22:20:09 >
DF  Post #: 3
1/3/2009 22:37:01   
Alixander Fey
Member

Chapter II



Tara MageBorn staggered forward, surprised and pleased to be the only one conscious in the cavern. His fingers twisted around his staff, still tingling with magic. Borgan lay at his feet, a mass of useless flesh. Using his staff like a crutch, Tara bent down and ran a gloved hand across the man’s bare forehead.

So much power, he thought. How did I defeat him so quickly? His body quivered, a sign of the havoc magic reeked on its caster. His strength already waned, a dangerous sign if he had to face six more wizards.

I could… Tara flexed his fingers. The man had so much power. So much. It would be so easy to take it. His soul shined brightly; Tara could reach out and borrow from the brightness, siphon Borgan’s strength for his own. After all, I won the match fair and square. I have the right to the spoils of battle.

He wrapped his mental presence around the man and tugged, ready to rip his entire soul free. So much power…

No!

Tara’s reasoning mind returned enraged to find the terrible place his imagination had brought him. He jerked back, hiding his hand beneath his robe. I swore never to touch a human soul again. And I won’t. Sensing the man’s power again, he shivered. No matter how much I need the strength.

Standing, Tara gathered his robes and followed the only corridor leading away from the near-empty cavern. He opened his mind to the spiritsight again, and nearly gasped as a large fire spirit flew right through his body. Attuned to the subtleties of magic, he sensed the tingling the spirit produced as it washed through his flesh. Beyond him, in the next cavern over, he saw bright flashed of magic. Two wizards dueled, launching fireballs and lightning bolts at each other from opposite sides of the cave. Tara sighed when he sensed their weakness. It’s barely even worth my time to fight the winner, he complained. Why can’t all the wizards here be as powerful as Borgan? Is there anyone left who could be a challenge?

A voice inside his head answered: Omri. With the magic that the dragon could teach him, Tara would become unstoppable. But yes, training beneath the dragon would be a challenge. He could only hope his wife wouldn’t mind the constant stench of dragonfire.

Tara ambled into the next cave slowly, hoping neither of the wizards noticed him. Enthralled by their battle, both spellcasters allowed him to pass unhindered. He circled around the duel and slipped into the next corridor. Whichever one wins will come after me, I’m sure. But he won’t be a problem.

As an afterthought, Tara summoned a bright fireball. Waving his hands and chanting, he left the magicked orb hovering in the dark corridor, with orders to attack any human that tried to pass. If I’m lucky, that will surprise him.

Taping his staff against the stone floor as he walked, Tara entered a third cavern. A single form occupied this cavern, a maroon-cloaked man wielding a short wand. When Tara approached, he bowed.

“MageBorn, it is an honor to meet you in person.”

Tara kept silent as he stepped forward, taking note of the quartet of sprites that hovered around the magicker. They were larger than the glowing specks that defended him, and they held more power. I wonder what they do? He smiled as he prepared to find out.

“Please, MageBorn, lower the staff. We need not fight.” The dark figure shifted uneasily in the darkness, and the sprites pushed forwards.

They’re some form of defense, he decided. But not like mine. The emerald blips of light that surrounded Tara were designed to absorb energy from magical and physical attacks. They could stop a fireball as easily as they could stop a fall. His duel with Borgan had brought them down to half-strength, but that didn’t make them useless.

“Please, MageBorn. Lower the staff.”

Tara obeyed, only because he summoned magic into his empty palm. “Why shouldn’t we fight?” he asked in a soft whisper.

The face hidden beneath the maroon cowl twisted in a smile. “Because I have no desire to die.”

Tara laughed. This fool is afraid of me! “You can yield now. I’ll let you live.”

The wizard stepped backwards. His wards remained stationary. “I think I have a better idea. One more pleasant to us both.”

The black-clad sorcerer raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Bowing, the other wizard set his wand on the floor. “I pledge myself to your service. I’ll fight with you, help you gain Omri’s sword.”

Laughing, Tara stepped back and raised his staff. “And what would you have in return?”

“When Omri trains you, take me as your apprentice. Pass some of his knowledge on to me.” The magicker’s voice was sincere, solemn.

The sorcerer only snickered. “I work alone, young mage. What do you intend to offer me in return?” As if I’d share this dragon’s power…

The maroon robes shifted as he stood. “I can help you. I can fight with you!”

“I just defeated Borgan, the only challenge to my power, in less than ten minutes.” Tara shook his head and scoffed. “What help do you think you can give me?”

The wizard shook, trying to find something that would convince Tara. “I’m a battlemage,” he said. “I can… I can teach you a ward you’ve never seen before!”

Tara lowered his staff. “The sprites that orbit you now?” The wizard nodded. “How do I activate one?” When he did not reply, MageBorn pointed his staff forward and chanted.

“Vrettr!”

He summoned a ball of green energy, hoping to force the wards into action. Just before he could sent the spell forward, one of the orbs exploded and pummeled the sorcerer with a multi-colored lightning bolt. Tara fell backwards, stunned by the quick magic. “That’s not a good way to convince me—” Tara stopped mid-sentence. His anger drained away as he realized the truth behind the spell. “Did that… that was your ward?”

“Yes, sir. That was one of them.”

“It attacked me, automatically, because I targeted you with magic?” The maroon-robed spellcaster nodded. “Three Gods…” I just used a spell like that on Borgan, he realized. A spell that triggered when a magical hand touched it. Is this that much different? He shook his head, answering “no” to himself. This might be worth something…

Scooting forward, Tara summoned light to his staff, illuminating some of the wizard’s features. “I may be interested in your alliance, boy.”

His soft features lifted in a smile, and he bowed again. “My name is Sajen,” he informed the wizard. “Sajen WhiteStaff. I come from HeavenShire.”

Tara shrugged, uncaring. “I suppose you know my name. Just call me MageBorn. Not Tara, not master, not potentate or anything else ridiculous. And if you survive this contest, never look my wife in the eyes. Gods above, never look at her at all. Or I’ll use you next time I experiment with the forbidden magics.” Striking the boy with his staff, he walked past him. “Follow me.”

Sajen stood, retrieved his staff, and followed the mage in wide-eyed bewilderment. “You study the forbidden magics?”

Tara laughed and tugged on the corner of his cowl. “I’m a sorcerer,” he said. “I study all kinds of magic. But no, to be honest, I don’t deal in anything forbidden by the Four Schools. Although, I do know all the words of necromancy. Just never had any reason to use them.” His uncharacteristic blathering had the desired effect; Sajen remained silent for several minutes. If this fool really expects me to teach him something… Ha. I just hope he’ll prove useful to me. Or I’ll find a way to make him useful.

The passed into the next cavern quickly, but they stopped when a massive heat wave swept over them, followed by the crackling of an explosion. Sajen stumbled to the ground, but Tara turned calmly and regarded the fire. “I think I cast that spell,” he whispered.

Sajen glanced upward. “Sir?”

Tara shrugged the boy off. “I think that spell just destroyed one of our opponents. Quite frankly, I don’t care enough to use spiritsight to search. He wasn’t powerful enough to warrant my attention.”

Sajen could only nod as he rushed to follow the wizard. “So what are you going to do with the SpiritSong?” he asked when they passed into another cave. “Return to House Vaden? Or do you have bigger plans?”

Tara sighed. “Are you going to ask me questions for the rest of our short lives?” The boy didn’t answer. “I’m going to get the sword and learn everything I can from Omri. Then I’m going back to the Four Schools to raise my tier. Then I’m going to raise a family with my wife and spend my time creating my own mage tower.”

Sajen raised an eyebrow. “You say that with finality. As if you’re retiring.”

“I hate the restrictions the Four Schools set on me. They annoy me to no end. I’d like to continue my research without their oppressive hand bearing down on me.”

The rounded a corner and reached a long, low cavern that stretched for what seemed like miles. Checking to make sure it was empty, they proceeded into the darkness.

Sajen paused, uncomfortable with Tara’s treasonous speech. “I… I think the rules keep us safe,” he stammered. “So… what tier are you?”

Tara grunted and spun, raising his staff like a javelin. “Twenty-fifth,” he spat. Sajen turned as well, following his master’s ethereal gaze. From the mouth of the corridor they had just left, two robed figures stepped forward.

The mages I saw dueling? Why are they following me? He looked to Sajen and cursed. And now that I have this fool with me, they can attack together. Tara reached out with his mental presence, sensing their power. They masked their strength last time I saw them, he realized. They were hiding their true power. To trap me?

The taller of the two figures stepped forward, lowering his cowl. His pointed ears decried him an elf. His companion copied the elf’s movement—revealing herself to be a human female. They stood facing one another and pressed their palms together, chanting.

Of course, now they can focus all their attacks on me. Tara hurled a bolt of emerald lightning at the wizards. A mirror-like shield materialized just in time to turn the attack aside. Tapping his staff against the ground, he summoned three orbs of fire magic. They shot forward as well, exploding when the shield deflected them. The firestorm nearly brought the shield down.

Looking up, the elf wizard strengthened the spell holding the shield. Then he returned his attention to his chant. He and the human girl began to sway, rocking back and forth in tandem.

Sajen shot a glance back to Tara. “What are they doing?”

He grunted in reply. “Good question.” Twirling his staff, Tara thrust it forward, crystal first.

“Ventrum fete thr’yda!”

A column of green fire shot from his staff, blazing towards the wizards and engulfing them in flame. The shield flickered, faltering. This time the human girl strengthened it. The fire sputtered out as Tara searched his mind for another spell. Surrendering to the magic, he waved his fingers and conjured two bolts of lighting. They shattered the barrier in a multicolored explosion.

Just before he could prepare a spell to finish the two magickers, they completed their own incantation. The rock beneath their feet shook—then a spire of stone ripped from the ground. The stone morphed, twisting into a hand with four fingers. Pushing against the ground, the hand raised the remainder of its body; an eight-foot-tall stone golem.

Tara cursed and retreated to the far side of the cave. “Animators,” he spat. “I thought that magic was beyond anyone here!” Flexing his hands, he shot a blur of green energy at the golem. His attack left a crack in the creature’s stone chest.

“Can we defeat it?” Sajen was at Tara’s side in a moment, summoning defensive shields like any apprentice would do. He’s done this before, the sorcerer realized. He’s pledged himself to another magicker, and fought for him. Something about the thought unsettled him. At least the wards helped.

What is that thing? How do we stop it?

As the stone golem barreled forward, an alien presence slipped into Tara’s mind. Too late he realized it belonged to Sajen: he sent the maroon-robed mage into a wail of agony as he broke his mind. Cursing, he turned his attention back to the creature. The elf stood behind the mass of stone, walking forward in tandem with the golem. It’s direct control, he realized. Not true animation. Good. Conjuring a wall of flame, he pushed the barrier towards the golem. Massive arms flailed to turn the inferno aside.

Tara heard Sajen groan and crawl to his feet. He shot the young wizard a thought. I’m sorry. That was my fault. You were right to touch my mind. Can you distract the golem?

Sajen nodded, forgiving Tara without a second thought. Drawing a small wand from his sleeve, he waved his arms in a broad arch and summoned fire.

The elf took two steps forward and swung his arms. The rock-man mirrored his actions. The barriers Sajen had placed around Tara flared as the creature’s stone arms swept across it. Tara threw his power against the golem—it stumbled back a few steps as the power connected with the elf. Good, the sorcerer said with a smile. Very good. Direct control.

Realize the power of Tara’s wards, the elf—and in turn, the golem—turned on Sajen. One of his wards activated, sending a fork of lightning towards his attacker. The creature shrugged off the blast and charged. The boy fired a jet of flame, but the stone minion pushed forward, grabbing with gravely fingers. He touched the hand and sent a pulse of sonic energy running up the creature’s arm. Stone cracked as the beast fell backwards.

While Sajen kept the elf busy, Tara tapped his staff against the ground.

“Griz’lem!”

Disappearing in a flash of green light, Tara returned to reality three paces behind the elf. Wielding his staff like a club, he drove the wizard down with a vicious chop. The elf moaned in pain and crumpled to the floor. The golem followed.

A powerful, arcane fist struck Tara in the back of the head, sending him tumbling over the elf. Three Gods, he cursed. It’s the woman. His pleasure at seeing the elf’s weakness had driven him to haste. The human female had stood to the side, offering her spirit as a source for her elven partner’s magic. When he fell, she was freed.

Scrambling to his feet, Tara hurled fire at the woman. She screamed as she failed to block the spell—her hair burst into flame. She summoned a gust of wind that sent Tara to the ground again. The elf staggered to his feet. The golem rose.

Twisting on the ground, the sorcerer threw his foe backwards. He raised his hand to kill the elf with a word—but the elf fell again as Sajen lit the entire golem on fire. Tara could feel the elf struggling to release the magic.

“Kiet!”

His spell drew a red line across the elf’s throat. Under normal conditions, he could have blocked the spell without trying. Crippled by his connection to the burning golem, he died quickly.

“Bier’ba!”

Red bands of magic entangled the woman, immobilizing her. Before Tara could register his motion, Sajen stood above her, reaching past his companions spell to place a hand on her forehead. “Yield,” he whispered. “Or I will light your insides on fire.”

The woman’s lips barely moved as she fainted, tongues of flame still consuming her hair. Sajen looked to his master. “Did she yield?”

The sorcerer released his magic and shrugged. “If not, she’s dead. Hopefully when she wakes she’ll understand that.” Prodding the elf with his staff to insure he was dead, he stepped over the body and examined the broken golem. “Have you ever seen an animation before?”

Sajen joined his new master. “No. Can you perform one?” He nodded. After a moment of silence, Sajen spoke again. “I’d like… I’d like you to teach me. That’s a power I’d like to learn.”

Raising an eyebrow beneath his black cowl, Tara smiled. “Deal.”


< Message edited by Alixander Fey -- 1/3/2009 22:52:52 >
DF  Post #: 4
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