Level 15 Quest
As has become her usual custom, the young fire mage stares into the dancing flames of yellow, orange and red. She’s had so much on her mind the past few weeks. . .months even, that it’s no wonder she doesn’t notice the shimmering illusion until it becomes more solid. At first, she thinks she’s seeing things so mutters “damn sleepless nights will be the death of me yet.” But then the illusion. . .speaks? If she were a big drinker, she might be inclined to blame her hallucinations on alcohol. Since she doesn’t drink, that leaves out any and all good excuses for the appearance of the dwarf within the flames. Turning in her chair to look around the silent library, she mumbles “and naturally there’s no one here to tell me that I’m not crazy or hallucinating.” She’s seen many things in the fire before, but never has anyone appeared to her in such a manner. And he isn’t even all there either. Now how in the hell is one supposed to have a conversation with what he or she believes to be a figment of their imagination? Answer: easy. Go with the flow. Which is exactly what she does. She doesn’t just “embrace” the vision. She slides from the chair to the floor and crawls toward it only to stop when she hears his gruff voice.
“Forgive me for not coming to you sooner, M’Lord, but I didn’t want to appear before you until I thought myself strong enough to not disappoint you.” Well, that is all true and what better way to get to a man if not stroke his ego? One thing she’s learned in her time around men is that they love extra attention. Somehow, she doesn’t think this Elemental Master will be any different than the rest. After finding a comfortable spot before the burning fire, she turns and sits down to listen to the dwarf. He’s actually a lot like most of the men she’s already had to deal with in her time here, but he has her respect where most of the others don’t.
“A task, M’Lord? What sort of task?” The young girl doesn’t have long to wait until her question is answered. She’s to travel to the Fire Forge -after- stopping by Lyndo’s water palace to receive a sacred tome. An almost inaudible groan slips from her lips. Not another damn water mage?! To her way of thinking that is possibly the worst thing that she would ever have to face. Still, she nods slowly, her eyes scanning the map to commit it to memory. “Well, the task doesn’t seem too difficult,” she mutters to herself then snorts and rolls her eyes. She wishes. A piece of paper is lying nearby, so she grabs it and sketches out a rough outline of the map marking the water palace and Fire Forge on it.
“I’ll be sure not to open the tome. I really don’t want to be destroyed before I have the chance to deliver the book.” She just barely gets the last word out before the fire flares and Flameforger is gone just as he’d appeared. . .in a flash. Any that might walk by the library would think she’s talking to herself, but then again that isn’t entirely unusual for the human fire mage. Many times when she’s angry she will rant and rave to no one in particular. Her infamous, explosive temper is one thing she wishes to master. Perhaps, Flameforger can help her with that. . .she can only hope.
The sheet of paper with her crudely sketched map on it is picked up before she stands. Now that she has something to do, she seems to be getting excited. At least now she has purpose. With that in mind, she walks up the winding stairs to her room within the hallowed halls of Unigo and begins packing the few things she will need for her journey. Once the few changes of clothes are thrown into her pack along with some apples and bread she’d gotten from Tyson, she dons her robe, vambraces and greaves then retraces her steps to the front door, exiting quietly. Her first stop is at the bath house to leave word on the care of Killian and her upcoming absence. Finally, she’s ready to depart. One last cursory glance is given to the beloved bath house then she’s gone. . .her destination, the distant mountains visible from anywhere in Nanthalion.
The first night progresses quietly. She’s traveled many nights and knows to stay to the shadows and any cover that might be found. The roads leading into Nanthalion abound with brigands of all kinds. Once, she’d been able to exist among the throng of bandits. Now, she sticks out like the proverbial sore thumb. It’s not exactly that she has trouble blending in with her surroundings. . .she’s still silent as a wraith from many years of training to be a thief. It’s just the heat that always gives her away. . .a heat she cannot control for it is part of her that will not be denied. Her first night out, she happens upon a caravan of gypsies who offer her a warm meal, hot tea and a bedroll with any of the available males she wishes. Of course, the fire mage has to smile at the last offer. She respectfully declines the offer of food and a willing male. Gypsies are, after all, known for their slight of hand. The last thing she needs is to have the few coins she’d brought with her lifted while she is otherwise occupied with an all too willing male. No, she doesn’t take the offer though she is tempted. Goddess knows she’s tempted. Only her fear of hurting the one she’s with keeps her celibate in the face of so many beautiful men. She’s seen her share of Adonis like men while living in Nanthalion. Hell, she’s even in love with one of the most gorgeous men there, but the firm muscles surrounded by clothes of fine silk in every color imaginable makes her wish she weren’t so set on staying celibate. Rather than sleep as is her wont, she leans against a tree near the comforting heat of the fire and simply observes the activities of those around her.
As the morning dawns clear and warm, she leaves the gypsy caravan still slumbering quietly and continues on her way. If she has drawn the map correctly, Lyndo’s palace is to the west of Flameforger’s home. So, to the west she goes. Spring is definitely in the air. The trees are bursting with vibrant greens, flowers are blooming in a profusion of colors. . .red, purple, yellow and the occasional blue. Then there is the dry path she’s traveling. . .tiny puffs of dirt kick up with each step and stain the hem of her black robe. Oh, well, nothing to be done for it at the moment. She is relatively sure that it will get much dirtier before her quest is complete.
So lost in thought is she that she doesn’t notice the lone man partially concealed by a knot of trees. In fact, it isn’t until she’s almost even with him and he makes his presence known that she takes note. The same scowl she wears for those that displease her turns the corners of her pouty lips down. How dare the jackanapes jump out in front of her like that? Anyone that knows her well would be able to sense the rise in anger simply by the amount of heat her body is giving off by this time. The man is scarcely more than a skeleton, his clothing hanging off him as if he’d stolen those from someone much bigger. The yellowish colored hair lays matted and dingy against his shoulders. And his eyes. . .she looks into his eyes and thinks they are the deadest eyes she’s ever seen. The man looks half-starved and desperate. . .those two attributes together always make for a lethal combination. However, that doesn’t stop her from being her usual “charming” self.
“What the hell do you want?” Well, isn’t she just Ms. Congeniality today? Perhaps the scavenger notices a bit too late that he’s accosted the wrong woman. To his way of thinking, any woman traveling alone is easy prey. This particular woman is no man’s easy prey. She lives to make their lives miserable. Finally, the man answers after giving her the briefest of cursory glances. “I’ll be takin’ all yer money now, Lassie.” Oh, well, isn’t that just great? The bastard thinks he’s going to take her money? He’s got another think coming. A slight flick of her right wrist and a whispered “whip” is the only movement she makes. The flame whip she’s so fond of using on upstarts appears in her hand. “I don’t think you’ll be taking anything from me because you’re too ignorant to know when you’ve bit off more than you can chew.” The eyes twitch to the flaming whip that appears in the woman’s hand. Finally, he sees the error of his way, but it’s too late. Once the fire mage gets herself so worked up only violence or sex will calm her. So, she advances on the man, cracking the whip so that it sizzles right beside his ear. Of course, the one thing the fiery tempered girl doesn’t count on is the man drawing a weapon on her. “Now, Lassie, there be no need fer such a display. Jes gimme yer money and I be on me way,” comes the reply from the man. The young woman narrows her eyes at the would be thief. That’s it. She’s had enough of men and their high handed tactics. Without having to think overly much, the hand not holding the whip pushes outward from her body and sends a fire spike toward the greasy looking man. When the spike strikes him in the chest and knocks him down, the angry woman walks by him, leaving him lying there writhing in pain. A flick of her wrist is given and the whip disappears as if it had never been there. Well, now her mood is foul if ever it has been. Damn men and their high handed tactics to fiery deaths anyway.
As the day progresses, the temperature rises to a comfortable degree. The sun overhead hits its zenith to brighten everything around making things appear surreal. Here, this far away from Nanthalion, there is an almost virginal quality to the landscape. The woods are undisturbed as is evidenced by the scampering wildlife. . .rabbits, squirrels and even the occasional deer. Just being alone and witness to the playful creatures brings a rare smile to her lips. Surprisingly enough, her mood begins to lose its somberness. . .she begins to relax and take on part of her happy go lucky attitude from many months ago. As the sun slides slowly toward the western horizon, she decides to rest. With that thought in mind, she moves to the side of the road seeking shelter beneath a towering oak tree. After sitting down upon the ground, she pulls an apple from her pack to eat while she looks over the map she’d drawn. If her calculations are correct, she should reach Lyndo’s water palace within a few hours. What will she do once she reaches there? Chattering above her head causes her to lift her eyes and stare at a disgruntled squirrel. It would seem that she has made a grave error by leaning against the furry critter’s tree. She doesn’t tarry long because she’s rather anxious to get to Flamerforger’s home. She can’t very well do that until after she’s at least tried to get the Tome of Furnicia. So, she’s off again. This time, she goes to meet a water mage. . .one of her sworn enemies just for the very nature of his magic. What trials will she face while within the keep of the hydromancer? Of course, she could always wait for dark and sneak into the palace and just steal the tome. The more she thinks on her options, the better she likes the idea of biding her time until dark when she’s almost sure the cursed man will be asleep. Now that her plan has been made, she gazes around her surroundings. There seems to be no one on the road at the moment. The only brigand she’s met is most likely still lying in the center of the path where she’d left him. The gypsies with their gorgeous men and bright colors are most likely on the other side of Nanthalion by now. For all practical intent and purposes, she’s alone. . .which is a good thing. It gives her time to prepare for the coming night. No sooner does she think this than she smells the tangy scent of salt on the air and feels the cool breeze wafting over the water. A softly muttered “gawd, I hate water” is given before she turns fully to see the massive palace of Lyndo. “Damn, this may not be as easy as I first thought, but still. . .he might just be arrogant enough to not have a well guarded keep. Here’s hoping.” Finally, she moves off the path deeper into the now sparse cover of trees. The pack of clothing and food is dropped to the ground, and then she’s off searching for anything that will help conceal her lily white skin and flaming red hair. Luckily, she chose her clothing with care. The boots are black, flat soled. and pettably soft. Her leather pants, vest and mage robe all match the boots. The remnants of an old campfire are found not far from where she stows her pack. Black ash. . .just what she needs for her hands and face. The hood of her robe should be fine to cover her hair. Once she’s blackened her skin and has the hood pulled over her head, she begins the slow task of entering the palace undetected. If anything gives her away, it will be the almost unbearable heat. The water mage, if nearby, will be able to easily feel her body temperature just as she would be able to detect him by his.
The moment she steps into the palace dread steals over her body. A chill so deep she fears she will never get rid of creeps through the comforting warmth. She’s met other water mages before but none that could instill such a bone chilling cold without at least being near them. “Well, isn’t this just wonderful,” the human fire mage thinks rather sarcastically to herself. A slight shake of her head is given though it’s not visible due to the voluminous hood hiding her features. As quiet as a mouse, she continues into the palace wondering where she might be able to find the Tome she’d been sent for. There has to be a library or maybe a study around the place somewhere. Hmm, or perhaps Lyndo keeps the Tome a bit closer to him? Maybe in his chamber?
With the three most likely places in her mind, the human girl sets off in search of first the library. She stays as close in the shadows as she can to keep from being detected by anyone that might happen by. As she rounds a corner, she almost runs headlong into what appears to be a cat boy. Silently, she moves back around the corner luckily finding a curtained nook in which to conceal herself. As soon as she hears footsteps passing by her hiding place, she moves the curtain aside to check the hallway again. Seeing it empty, she steps out and continues on her way. After walking down a long, dark hallway, she comes to a door. One hand reaches out to grasp the door knob and turn then swing the door open enough for her to squeeze through. As luck would have it, the room is empty and appears to be the library. One thought pops into her mind “this is almost too easy,” but she shrugs it off and moves about looking for the mithril covered copper paged book. She works quietly yet swiftly, examining first one shelf then the other until she has searched the entire library. Hands are planted on her hips as she looks around now at the books. This couldn’t be easy. . .noooo, the man has to make it difficult. Isn’t that just like any other man? It would seem that they live just to make her miserable. Though, she can think of two that keep her very happy. . .one more so than the other. The moment she returns, she is going to make plans to have her day with Scathien. A nod is given to that then she’s walking toward the door to search for the study. Maybe her luck in finding the room will hold out, if not her luck with finding the book she sought. The moment she opens the door she runs into none other than Lyndo. She curses her bad luck and the fact that she tarried too long in the library. What the hell is she going to do now?
The aura surrounding the water mage is enough to make the fire mage back up several steps. Her own warm aura flares to life in the face of so much cold. The moment it does, Lyndo’s eyes seem to become nothing more than chips of ice as he demands. . .”Who are you and what are you doing here?” Well, what could she say? The stubborn streak she’s known so well for comes to the forefront. “Who I am is of no consequence. What I want is simple. You have a book that doesn’t belong to you. I have been sent to retrieve it.” At least she told the truth. How it will be received is another matter entirely. So, she waits. When the water mage begins to advance on her much as she had the would be thief, she takes another step back only to trip over a chair. What the hell is she doing running from this man? She stands up to barbarians even though she knows she’ll get beat for her “insolence.” Rather than try to get away from Lyndo, she props herself on her elbows and looks defiantly at him. Let him do his worst to her if he will. She’s managed to survive through several beatings and even a brutal rape. What could he do to her that would hurt any worse? Don’t answer that.
When Lyndo finally stops, he’s standing over her with his hands on his hips. “Well, girl, if you want the book then you’re going to have to give something in return or take it from me. What be your choice?” He seems to think for a moment. “Or you have one other choice. You can simply leave here without the book and return to your home a failure for not having completed the simple task laid before you.” That thought seems to make him happy but anger her.
“I will not return a failure. The only way I can fail is to not have tried at all. What would you take for the book?” Now wasn’t that just a stupid question to ask? What do most men want, you nitwit? She does have one useful spell that might get her passed the water mage. She could cast sleep on him. As she awaits his answer, she moves to get up but is hit with ice shards that cut her all over her face and even rip through her robe. Bloody hell, that hurt. The warmth of blood trailing down her face brings her anger crashing over her in hot waves. Oh, well, that wasn’t very nice at all. His leg is the closest thing to her hand, so she reaches out already whispering the arcane words for the sleep spell and grabs his leg. In her anger, the one thing she didn’t plan for was the eventuality that Lyndo would fall on her legs trapping her beneath him when the sleep spell takes hold.
“Another fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Phaedre Delauney. You’re trapped beneath a water mage that is the size of a barbarian. Great. . .just great.” Even as she berates her own stupidity, she wiggles trying to get herself from beneath the cold man. After what seems like an eternity but is only minutes, she manages to pull herself free. She’s cut, bleeding, tired and pissed now. Those qualities are never good when the fire mage is involved. Standing, she looks down at the man trying to decide if she wants to risk looking further for the book? She’ll have about thirty minutes to find the book and be gone before he awakens. Thirty minutes. . .hopefully, that will be enough time. With that thought pressing on her, she moves from the library and searches for the study. Once she finds the room, she rifles through the many books but doesn’t find the mithril covered Tome she seeks. “Blast it all! Where would he keep it?” She turns a circle in the room and smiles when her eyes fall upon a shoddy desk in the corner. Would anyone really think to look in something so nondescript for such an important book? She would. Silent footsteps carry her quickly to the desk. There are three drawers. One smaller on in the center that doesn’t look big enough to hold much, but still she opens the drawer only to find it empty as she’d expected. The two drawers on the right side are bigger by far. Bypassing the biggest drawer on bottom, she opens the top drawer and smiles triumphantly as the Tome of Furnicia is revealed. Without wasting another minute, she grabs the book and closes the drawer before exiting the study.
No more than twenty minutes has elapsed since she left the library, so she feels safe in her escape attempt. She moves back down the maze of halls toward the front door and comes upon the same cat boy she’d seen earlier. There is no place for her to hide this time. Luckily, the sleeves of her robe are big enough to cover the Tome. Moving as if she belongs in the palace, she passes the boy with a soft “good eve to ye.” The boy reaches out to touch her but she darts out of reach and lifts her left hand pushing it away from her body to send a fire spike sizzling between the scant distance separating them. Once the boy yowls in pain and falls writhing to the floor, she all but runs out the door toward the cover of woods where she’d hidden her pack.
Stowing the Tome in her pack, she walks swiftly away from the palace and its horrors. For several hours, she continues walking, checking her map on occasion to make sure she’s going in the right direction to bring her to Flameforger’s residence. Fatigue begins to settle over her body after a while causing her to search for someplace to rest. After another hour, she finds a cave hidden at the base of a hill. She can’t remember when she’d passed from the shoreline to the verdant green plains, but right now she doesn’t care. Unbeknownst to her, the cave she enters and lies down to sleep in is only a short distance from the destination she seeks. She sleeps for what seems to be a long time but is only a few hours. For her, though, that is a long time. As a general rule, she doesn’t sleep much and eats even less. Dreams of her encounter with the ice mage cause her to toss and turn on the rock hard surface of the cave floor. The feel of something sharp pressing into her temple bring her swimming slowly to the surface of wakefulness.
Once she is fully awake, she casts clean on herself to remove the soot and dirt from her face and hands then pulls a piece of bread from her pack sitting in the dark to nibble on it thoughtfully. After finishing off the small piece of bread, she gathers her things and stands exiting the cave. The map is pulled from her pocket and unfolded to study in the moonlight. She looks around gathering her bearings then turns toward the east. Here near the mountain, the tree cover is much better, and she makes sure to use every possible tree she can in case that damnable water mage comes after her. She stumbles around in the dark for what seems an eternity, then, as if by magic, a building materializes against the side of the mountain.
A gruff looking dwarven man appears from the door of the building and waddles toward her. “Well, Lassie, I see you’ve made it, but not without a bit of a trial judging from the blood on you’re face. It took you long enough to get here. You have the Tome of Furnicia?” His voice is harsh just as she remembers it from her brief one-sided conversation with him. A simple nod of her head is given as she fishes the book from her pack and holds it out toward Flameforger. The book is snatched from her hands by permanently tanned and work roughened hands. She has as yet to say anything to the only man she will ever call master. . .not out of any submissive nature she might have but out of respect, plain and simple. The dwarf looks askance at her when she stands there saying nothing. “You don’t talk much do you? What’s the matter? Water mage got your tongue?” Well, damn, if that doesn’t bring a response from the fiery tempered girl.
“No, the water mage does not have my tongue. He doesn’t even have your damn book anymore.” Oh, that’s just great, Phae. Anger the one man that can toast your ass and make you like it. She stands defiantly looking down at the shorter man, her temper flaring to life within her. She expects many things from the man, but what she gets is. . .laughter? He seems to be a bit amused by her display of temper. Either that or laughing is his way of showing his displeasure.
“Aye, the wench has a temper, does she? I must say I am a bit surprised that you succeeded in your quest. Some succeed while others fail miserably. You’ve finished your quest, now be off and return later when you have recovered from your meeting with Lyndo. I have much to teach you yet.” With that, the master pyromancer turns on his heel and disappears back into the building leaving her standing in the softly brightening sky.
Could it be that only three days have passed since she’d left the relative safety of Nanthalion? She turns and begins the trip back toward her home, her thoughts lost on the brief meeting with the elemental master. People say she’s got a bad attitude? They really should meet with Flameforger before they speak ill of her. The return trip to Nanthalion takes less time. She foregoes sleeping every night. Who could sleep after the adventure she’s had? She certainly can’t sleep. Besides, she’ll sleep when she returns to the comfort of her bed at Unigo or Tyson’s house whichever may come first. She actually passes her travel time quietly. Strangely enough, the roads seem to be empty. It is then that she remembers the upcoming fair to be held in town. Maybe everyone is too busy preparing for that great event to bother with trying to rob and rape innocent travelers.
On her fifth day away from home, she comes across Tyson’s cottage in the woods. Relief washes through her as she moves to the door and uses her key to open it. As usual, he’s at work at the HG, Rana is gone and Ki is still with Melorian. She has the place to herself. After taking a quick bath, she slides between the sheets of hers and Tyson’s bed then falls into a deep, exhausted slumber. And, for the first time in a long time, she doesn’t dream. She sleeps as if dead.
Bio
Description and Stats
Back
Email
