Closed Freaks and Daggers (Wrenmae)

[Huskabar]

Season: Winter/Day: 67th/Year: 513/Time: Midday The old man made his way down the dirty pathway, when he noticed a shadow forming in front of him, and before he could even make a move, he felt the pressure of a blade against his back, and heard the whisper of a man’s voice, “Alright, geizer, give me everything you have on you!” Huskabar gulped nervously, racking his brain for a solution. He looked downward between his legs, looking over the man’s shoes. They were simplistic leather treads, with rounded laces. The wizard didn’t seem to have much of a choice. He ripped his astral hands from his physical body, losing their mobility, but gaining a new opportunity. With just a few quick tugs, a plan was set. The next part was especially important. If he tried to knock over the man behind him through traditional means, he might very well be accidentally or purposefully stabbed in the process. He quickly projected a small void hole just beneath the man’s heels, causing him to stumble backwards, and giving Huskabar a chance to escape. “Magic user!” screamed the man, once he spotted the voids beneath his feet, and though he was unable to follow, due to his shoe laces being entangled, two more figures made their way out from the dark. “You’ll learn what it means to cross Daggerhand!” yelled the first man again. The men grabbed the elderly caster by either arm, before pushing him against the wall of the alley, raising both his hands into the air, gripping him tight, as the third man had finally caught up, “Usually we burn your kind at the stake, but I think that would be far too merciful. I am going to gouge your eyes, snip off your tongue, and give those ears of yours a nice trim… I want everyone who passes you in this world to see you for what you are… A freak of nature!” During this time Huskabar had been gradually morphing his hands, and just as the intimidating monologue came to an end, he slipped his thin stray dog paws from the grip of his assailants, hunkering down, and darting through the space between them. He was aware that he could not run like this for very long, an unfortunate side-effect of the aging process. He turned around, his eyes looking for anything that might help, and then he spotted his chance. He once again ripped his astral hands from his body, knocking over a single bass upon a market cart, causing one the largest of the three men to quickly slip on the fish, and tumble forward. The other two stumbled over the larger man’s body, but did caught themselves before falling completely. Huskabar quickly darted into the next alleyway he came across, before hunkering down his head, looking around to see a man standing in the distance. This man did not appear to be looking at him at the time, and the warlock planned to take full advantage of the situation. He carefully observed the man’s face, while hiding his own beneath the cloak as best he could. He heard as the thugs ran past his corner, but he was certain they would come back his way, and that they did. Now all three men were looking into the alleyway. They looked directly at Huskabar and the smallest one began to speak, “You haven’t seen an old man with a large beard run by this way, have you?” The new faced conjurer shook his head to the three thugs, without speaking a word. “Alright. Well keep your eyes open! There’s a magic freak around here somewhere!” Two of the three men began to turn their back, but the third kept looking into the distance, before all at once pointing toward the man at the far end of the alley. “Are they twins?” he asked, and just as he did, Huskabar attempted to run once more, but he was just too tired, and he was beginning to run low on djed. He seemed to be caught, and this time no clever tricks came to mind. “Oh don’t worry, mister wizard. We’ll make you real pretty,” said the same oaf. A vision of Huskabar’s father could be seen by him in the distance, slowly shaking his head, and closing his eyes. Apparently his destiny would not be fulfilled, and he would be just another wizard to full victim to the daggerhand, and forced to live out a life as a mutilated shell of the man he once had been.