by Adam Watson
“Here ye! Here ye! Listen one, listen all! Leading in the fight against evil by decree of the king, the Amalician City Council is offering vast rewards to anyone who can fulfil the requirements of any proclamation!”
The way he shouted was very dramatic and impressive. “And now for the latest …” he continued, shuffling some papers. “Proclamation numbeeeeeer … forty-seven!”
Now he spoke even more dramatically; his voice sounded like a whisper, but could be clearly heard by all those who listened. “Can you rid the lands of the dreaded Troll Ooh’lag? Many have tried, many have died. It will not be easy, and it will take a true hero to do it … but if you can, riches, fame and glory will be yours!”
The town crier was only just beginning to get into his spiel when a robed figure walked by, reached out and snatched the scroll from the town crier’s hand.
“I’ll take that!” he said, as he walked away. The town crier stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to believe what had just happened to him.
“Hey, that’s my paper!” he shouted indignantly, but the robed figure was already gone.
Yes, the proclamations had brought people in from all around the world. The word was out, quick fortunes were to be made in Amalicia City. The adventurers and heroes had started arriving en masse one year ago, and Amalicia City began to thrive once more. Trade was now picking up, and the cities commerce was flourishing; a result of so many adventurers being in the city, but with strong hero-type people, came strong hero-type egos.
Amalicia City was a rough city, fighting among adventurers was an everyday occurrence. Yelling and shouting didn’t raise so much as an eyebrow among the Amalician City folk, so when a man in a black robe stood bailed up by two rough looking men, it came as no surprise to find that no-one would help him.
Aiden walked along, head down, deep in thought. He took no notice of the robed man, he was just as used to the crying and yelling of the city streets as everybody else. He took no notice that is, until he accidently walked straight into one of the rough looking men.
“Oh, sorry about that,” he said, apologising to the man, but instead of accepting the apology the man pushed Aiden hard, causing him to almost fall.
“Watch where you’re going doglover!” he snarled. Aiden looked past the brute and over to the robed man; he was a young man, not much older than himself – he looked like he was in trouble.
“What’s going on here? What are you two doing to this man?” The black-robed man’s eyes were full of hope, was someone actually going to help him?
“Mind your own business and piss off.” The man stared intensely into Aiden’s eyes; unwavering, unblinking.
“I just want to know what he’s done wrong.”
“PISS OFF!” the man shouted aggressively, and he pushed Aiden again. Aiden closed his eyes, he knew that if he didn’t walk away right then and there, there was going to be bloody rage.
“All right, all right,” he said, putting his hands up in a calming manner. “I’m going … I don’t want any trouble.”
“You’d better,” snarled the man.
Fetid doglover. Aiden walked off leaving the black-robed man to his fate. As he crossed the street though, he wondered whether or not he had done the right thing. I should have stood up to those men, he thought.
Even as he contemplated his own ethics, something shiny caught his eye. It was lying in a pile of refuse; offcuts from the carpenter. It was golden brown, appeared to be made out of hard oak, and it was just lying there, on top of the pile – a chair leg. Strange, thought Aiden, as he continued walking.
He took another two steps and spun back around. The chair leg was in the shape of a cudgel; it looked hard and heavy. Greetings. It seemed to be calling out to him, singing a sweet serenade; demanding that he pick it up. The golden streaks in its grain shone in the light - he couldn’t take his eyes off it. Must have the chair leg.
“What’s in the backpack?” asked one of the brutes of the robed man.
“Nothing,” the robed man cried, shaking his head. “Nothing of value anyway.”
“Why don’t we take a look?” The man opened the backpack and started rifling through its contents, the robed man was about to protest when he noticed that the other rough looking man had a knife in his hand. They’re going to take everything, he thought.
He shook his head as despair filled him, everything he owned was in that bag. If these men took that, then all would be lost. The robed man could see all of his hopes and dreams shattering before his very eyes.
Then he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He looked past the brute and into the crowd. There was movement, rapid movement; someone was coming, rushing through the crowd at pace.
Pushing people out of his way he ran, Aiden came in charging. He was determined, he had never walked away from doing the right thing before, and he wasn’t about to start now.
“Yarrrrgh!” he cried. The chair leg smashed into the side of the rough man’s head with such force that he was knocked instantly unconscious; falling down, he hit the ground hard.
The other man swung his knife. Aiden dodged and smashed the makeshift cudgel across the man’s hand, breaking two fingers; the knife dropped to the ground with a clang. Aiden stepped forward, passing the man’s guard, and smacked him hard in the face - the man reeled back and landed on the ground bleeding; half of his teeth shattered.
Scrambling backwards, the man eyed the chair leg like a deadly serpent. Golden streaks glimmered in the sunlight as Aiden moved it around. The man looked scared, his eyes darted to the left and right. He quickly rose to his feet and ran off into the crowd before Aiden could do any more damage.
“YEAH! YOU BETTER RUN!” shouted Aiden, waving the leg in the air. The robed man breathed a sigh of relief and then walked over to his saviour.
“Thank you, your help was most appreciated,” he said, rearranging the contents of his backpack.
“They had it coming,” answered Aiden, still eyeing the spot where the man had run off.
“Quite so,” answered the robed man. “What shall we do about him?” he said, pointing at the unconscious body on the ground.
“He’s not going anywhere,” answered Aiden, steely-eyed. The robed man smirked, that was quite true.
“Allow me to introduce myself. My name’s Magmus, Magnus Ashel’mar,” he said, offering a hand to Aiden. Aiden took it in his own and shook.
“Aiden Thun’dira, at your service.” Magmus smiled, his mind had just opened up a possibility.
“Now that’s interesting,” he commented.
“What is?”
“That you would say ‘at you service.’” Aiden shrugged.
“It’s just a saying.” Magmus smiled and took a step closer to Aiden.
“If you don’t mind me saying so Aiden, you look to me like you’re a bit of an adventurer.” Aiden shrugged his shoulders humbly and then nodded his head in agreement.
“I have had the odd adventure … yes.” Magmus’s eyes lit up, and he smiled knowingly.
“I knew it. The way you fought back there, it was incredible. So fast, so quick. You’ve had the training, haven’t you?” Aiden thought back to when he was growing up. He had been trained in how to fight … by his father. “Would I be correct in saying that you’re some kind of mercenary, and that’s why you’re here in Amalicia City?” The statement caused Aiden to have a flashback. The last time he had heard somebody say that it had come from the most beautiful girl he had ever met - sweet Lana. He answered now as he did back then.
“You could call me a mercenary.” Mercenary did sound better to Aiden than boar hunter … or homeless man.
“Excellent,” replied Magmus, nodding his head enthusiastically. “Are you looking for work? If you are, then I might have something for you.” The words rang in Aiden’s mind like the toll of bells.
Was he looking for work? He was desperate for it. Visions filled Aiden’s mind. Simple visions of simple things … the things he had gone
without for so long. Visions of food, visions of drink. Visions of a warm fire and a soft bed. Just be calm Aiden, he thought to himself. He had to answer like a professional, not a crazy half-starved homeless man.
“I’m interested … if it pays well.” Magmus nodded excitedly, what other answer would a mercenary give?
“There’s a tavern down the road Aiden, let me buy you a drink, and we can discuss business.” On the outside Aiden was cool, calm and collected.
“Yes, let’s do that,” he answered. On the inside, he was jumping up and down like a little kid. A free drink! A free drink! Real ale … in a real mug! He could feel it now - the sweet coolness of the ale as it flowed down his throat. He could almost taste it, in fact, he was already salivating and best of all he wouldn’t have to share it with a horse. ALL HAIL THE GODS!
***
The Lucerne Hammer was a place where adventurers like to congregate. Aiden was impressed with the layout, it certainly looked nicer than the tavern that he and Greegan had been frequenting.
There were dark, oak woods that decorated the place throughout, giving it a luxurious feel. A fire blazed in the hearth, warming the entire room and colourful tapestries adorned the walls, most of them depicting great heroes out of legend.
There was one thing that Aiden found odd about the Lucerne Hammer, and that was the quietness. For a place that had so many people in it, it was remarkably quiet. Most taverns were loud and full of rambunctious people, but this was not a loud place at all - it was a place full of whispers.
The pair made their way to the bar, ordered some drinks and then went to a booth situated against the far wall.
“As you can see, this is a very quiet place,” began Magmus. “People do a lot of business here. It’s a good place to come to get out of the hustle and bustle of the city. It’s a good place for discrete discussions.” Magmus raised his mug and toasted. “Once again, I’d like to thank you for helping me out there, so here’s to your health. May you achieve great success and find good fortune.” Aiden raised his mug and promptly skolled the lot in one big gulp.
“Likewise to you Magmus,” he answered, slamming the mug on the table. By the gods that was good, he thought, and the fact that there wasn’t even a hint of hay in it suddenly made him appreciate the simple things in life all over again.
“All right, let’s get down to business. Take a look at this …” Magmus handed Aiden a small scroll which Aiden proceeded to read. “This is the latest proclamation; proclamation number forty-seven. Essentially, it says that the troll ‘Ooh’lag’ has been terrorising the countryside, killing travellers and livestock, etc, etc … to cut a long story short one of the local Lords went out to kill Ooh’lag.” Aiden looked up, slightly intrigued.
“And what happened?”
“He ended up dead … his skull crushed like a melon.”
“Not the outcome he was looking for, I imagine,” replied Aiden, trying to sound as much like a cool mercenary as possible.
“Quite so,” agreed Magmus. “It was most unfortunate … but what’s unfortunate for one can be fortunate for another.”
“How so?” asked Aiden, eyeing Magmus’s untouched ale.
“Well, now the Royal Commission wants vengeance and are offering a huge reward for his capture, dead or alive, and I say we take it!” Aiden raised one eyebrow.
“You want me to kill a troll? Are you mad?” Magmus was already nodding his head as though he was expecting this reaction.
“Normally it would be madness, yes, but I too possess certain … qualities. I am a Sorcerer.” Aiden snorted out loud, he found that extremely hard to believe. Magmus was what twenty-seven, maybe twenty-eight at the oldest? There was no way he could be a sorcerer, he was way too young. Aiden gave him both a stare and a raised eyebrow together that left no doubt that he thought Magmus was lying. “All right, all right, I’m not really a Sorcerer … not yet, but I soon will be.”
“So how are you going to help then?” asked Aiden.
“I may not be a fully-fledged Sorcerer yet, but I have learnt some magic,” replied Magmus confidently. He was confident because he knew it was true. “Enough magic to do this proclamation, of that I am certain.”
“What kind of magic?” scoffed Aiden, still unconvinced.
“Well, illusion for a start,” answered Magmus.
“Illusion?” questioned Aiden. That didn’t sound like real magic.
“That’s right, I am a professional Illusionist, but I also have some knowledge of charming.” Magmus was now sitting upright in his chair, he looked almost cocky. Aiden stared back at him blankly, what would a mercenary say in this situation?
“Are you going to drink that or not?” he asked, pointing to the untouched mug in front of Magmus.
“Go right ahead,” answered Magmus, moving the mug in front of Aiden. Aiden smiled with glee.
“All right Magmus, let’s just say you are all that. How does that help us with this troll?” A smug smile formed on Magmus’s lips, he had been waiting for this question.
“Well, you see, as an Illusionist, I can bend reality to create changes or what appear to be changes in the environment. This doesn’t cause real world changes, it just appears to, right?” Aiden had no idea what Magmus was talking about, but he answered anyway.
“Y-Yeah … right.”
“I have found that certain charm spells, when combined with an illusion spell will actually create a state of mind where the victim will feel, as well as see, whatever you cast upon it … even though it’s not actually happening,” Magmus’s face was stern and his voice full of passion. “So for example, if you were to cast a fireball in the illusion discipline, it would scare whoever you cast it upon greatly because they would see a great ball of flame hurtling toward them.”
“Yes, I guess that would be scary,” commented Aiden, and took another mouthful of ale.
“But they wouldn’t actually get burnt or even hurt, because the fire’s not really there, it’s just an illusion. You can’t feel something that’s not actually there, can you?” Aiden still wasn’t sure if he understood what Magmus was trying to tell him, but as long as there was ale in the mug, he didn’t really care.
“Er, no,” he replied. He wasn’t quite sure if that was the right reply, but he felt like it was what Magmus wanted to hear.
“Now imagine this, imagine if they were charmed to feel the pain. The pain would be as if a real fireball had hit them, the only difference is, unlike a real fireball they wouldn’t get burnt to a crisp. It’s just a charmed state of mind, you see, once it wears off there is no physical damage, but as long as they are in that state of mind it will feel very real to them. So, I figured that seeing as how I can’t cast a real fireball, I could cast the charmed version instead … it’ll still have the same effect.” Aiden was nodding slightly, the idea was farfetched … but then again so was the idea that there was an old man hiding down in the bottom of Warehouse 12, convincing everybody that passed that giant rats were attacking them.
“All right, so where do I come into it?” he asked, taking another sip of ale.
“When I cast a spell like this I have to use my hands as focus points. The spell is not actually going to hurt Ooh’lag, he’ll just think he’s on fire for as long as I am casting the spell; as soon as I stop casting the pain will be gone. So, the plan is simply this, I’ll disable him using the spell, then all you have to do is walk up and finish him off.” Magmus nodded his head, convinced it would work, but Aiden was still a little sceptical.
“This is all very well,” he replied. “In fact, it might actually work, but can you really cast a spell like that, I mean … I want some sort of proof before I start risking my life fighting trolls.” Magmus reached into his pocket and pulled out a red gemstone; he held it before Aiden’s face. Aiden stared at it, it was huge and glowed with a crimson hue; his face took on a hypnotic effect.
“Can’t you see, all around you, the dragon’s breath?” Magmus asked dramatically. Aiden
watched the gemstone. He could see it glowing brighter and brighter, and then a small light seemed to flicker away from it. The flickering became faster and faster, getting bigger and bigger until a huge ball of flame leapt out; engulfing Aiden in a fiery blaze.
Aiden stood up and screamed. He rolled across the table and onto the floor, desperately patting himself down in what would have been a futile attempt to put out the flames … had they have been real. Magmus looked on slightly amused.
“Why are you screaming?” he asked. “The pain cannot hurt you if the pain is not there.” Aiden immediately stopped screaming and rolling around on the floor. He looked up, the flames were gone, and so too was the pain.
Slowly getting to his feet, he looked around, a little unsure as to what just happened. Everyone in the tavern was staring at him in complete silence. Aiden turned to Magmus who simply raised one eyebrow quizzically back at him. Aiden turned back to the crowd who were still looking at him. He looked down at his mug, picked it up and turned back to the crowd.
“Whoah!” he yelled, raising the mug up high. “This is some strong ale!” The crowd cheered Aiden and went back to what they were doing. He sat back down in his chair.
“Impressive,” stated Aiden excitedly. “I am honestly impressed.”
“Now you can understand how real it feels,” stated Magmus smugly, leaning back in his chair.
“Absolutely, I know I wasn’t on fire just then, but by the gods, it felt like I was.” Aiden was excited, he had felt the pain a charmed illusion spell could inflict, and if that’s what Ooh’lag was going to get, then this task was going to be straightforward.
“So what do you think Aiden? Are you interested?” Magmus was enthusiastic, he was certain that Aiden would help him, but instead of answering Aiden had one last question.
“So, what is the actual reward of this proclamation?” Magmus smiled, he knew that Aiden was going to like the answer.
“Ten gold pieces.” Aiden’s eyes immediately lit up.
