This time, he read of the great world war that spawned the third age, that which ended with the complete eradication of the Eophax. They were more than intelligent, and held an archive of history dating back tens of thousands of turns before Antra’s, long before even the First War. Unfortunately, during the war, their capitol was firebombed and the archives were burned to a crisp, not a single page saved. Also, in a grand show of mass genocide, The Initiative decided their species didn’t merit existing.
What a fucking waste.
All of a sudden, his head filled with words, a sensation that hadn’t graced him in so many turns it caught him entirely off guard. As his brain adjusted, he snapped back into assassin mode, taking it in as instructions for his next teleport, the subject, and the specifics. He realized shortly that he was still in prison and had no reason to be receiving these kinds of instructions. After this, he filed through his short term memory to think over the message again.
Mr. Albreight. I have a proposition for you. It would involve employment away from society with frequent trips out, a haven from the guild, and an escape from that cell. Please respond as you would normally send a message. Be quick, however. Time is short.
He had plenty of experience with arcane messages, receiving and sending, though he used a stone. All the same, he looked at his palms and they glowed that same pink glow he recognized. He put his hands together in a ball, and an orb poured out and formed itself. Liam pulled it to his face and whispered, “What kind of a deal we talking? And what kind of job? Who are you anyway? How the hell’re you sending this into the Pen? And what the fuck’s with this message spell? Snazzy as hell.” He slammed his hands together, as he’d seen a thousand times, and he saw a pink orb explode rapidly from his hands, through him and the walls, and out of sight. Shortly, the voice returned with a bubble slamming into him forcelessly.
All in good time. I’m a scientist and a sorcerer studying groundbreaking new fields, and I need an emissary to go to the mainland to recruit, someone to get information for me that may prove difficult, and occasionally someone to collect a body. The specifics will be dealt out upon agreeance.
“Will I be making money?”
You’ll live comfortably and be rewarded with power.
“Define power, if you would.”
Magic abilities you don’t currently possess. The ability to cast spells that only a master mage could without near the tax to yourself.
“How?”
All in good time.
“And I would get these immediately?”
No. Again, in due time. We need to run tests first, and your initial jobs will be done with a partner. This is a limited time offer, Mister Albreight. If you take it, we come in, get you out, and go. If you decline, we cease communication and you will never hear from us ever again.
Liam thought hard, wracking his brain with the sudden conundrum. “If necessary, could I get assistance is seeking revenge upon the man that put me here?”
Prove your worth to us, do your job beyond expectation, and we will gladly help you seek vengeance upon your former master.
He smirked. Well researched. “We have a deal under one caveat.”
Which is?
“Come and get me, pull me out, I’ll do what you need. However, as long as you’re busting me out, I already have a partner. Osadoguhn Viaxy. Package deal, mate.”
There was a pause. A long pause. Liam sat back and crossed his fingers. This was a tough gambit, but he couldn’t help but take the chance. Can’t leave her hanging, after all. After ten minutes, he gave up and went back to his book. Ten minutes after that, the voice came back with only one word and no return spell attached.
Deal.
Biomancy Page 38
