Reimancing the Stone (solo)

[Guido Faragas]

Timestamp: 14th Day Fall 510AV

“How did you come to meet the wizard?” The young ginger-haired boy who spoke had an excited look on his face. His hands were gripped tightly together, fingers interlaced and resting on his chest. On the table in front of him rested a half-empty mug of dark amber ale. Three other mugs were also on the table – one on front of a rough-looking fellow with glazed eyes; the second in the hands of a well-dressed middle-aged human with a bushy brown beard and the third was currently lifted to the lips of Guido Faragas – weaver of tall tales, fantastic stories and dark fables.

“Oh, that is a tale in itself,” smiled Guido as he replaced his mug on the table, wiping the froth from the top of his lips with the back of one hand. “Let me tell you the story he told me. If you like it, then maybe another evening I will tell you how I met the old fellow.” He leant forwards, resting his head on his arms and whispered. “I will tell it to you from the wizard’s point of view. It began like this...” Talk softly to begin with, it draws them in. He allowed a small tinge of satisfaction to cross his mind as he saw the other three lean forwards to ensure they heard his words. It draws them in. Something I have learnt over the past season or two. Start quietly and build up the momentum. Draw them in with a whisper; intrigue them with a mystery and finish with a flourish. Pacing and timing – key to a good story. Let’s hope they are receptive. Two of them look fine but the rough fellow is on the edge in some way – he worries me.

It Begins... I (the wizard) was given a commission by a wealthy merchant. From time to time, he enlisted me to help with a variety of endeavours. It was good steady money and rarely dangerous. Often, I was just there as some sort of backup in case things went wrong. I was well versed in both fire and earth. I could add the flames of a fire to my own res and create a ball of flame; I could vibrate the earth under my foe’s feet and light the way in the dark beneath the ground.

“If he were so damn good why’d he need to work for coins.” It was the scruffy human who spoke. I knew he’d be trouble.

“The wizard was a modest fellow, good-natured and well meaning who never sought to exploit his powers for his own ends. He merely wished to earn a modest living.” Be pleasant at first... and patient.

“More fool him,” grunted the ruffian, but he was appeased, for the moment...

“Anyway, to continue...”

[Guido Faragas]

It Starts... This time the commission was of a more serious nature. The merchant’s sister had gone missing – ambushed and spirited away by some ruffians it appeared. However, the merchant had found a map in his sister’s home, which he believed to be a clue to her whereabouts somewhere in the Bronze Forest outside the city. He wished me to locate the girl and bring her home, offering me a couple of hired men as bodyguards. I hesitated in accepting the assignment, for it was fraught with danger. There was a good chance that the girl had been killed, or the map was nothing to do with her location. But the merchant was insistent and he was a good source of income, so I felt in no position to refuse. However, the hired musclemen were a problem – Keg and Larg they were called – two brothers with scarcely a brain cell between them. Larg could hardly speak and would just plough his way through people as if they were not there. Keg could at least converse – if you call grunting and wheezing speech that is. I resolved to dump them at the first opportunity but they hung on like limpets and so I was forced to let them accompany me. The map showed a trail through the forest that ended in the middle of nowhere, with the words Devil’s Fork inscribed in scruffy letters at the end of the trail. I asked around Syliras but no-one knew of any landmark that might fit the description. Fortunately, the merchant provided horses and so we made our way to the start of the trail fairly rapidly. I can’t claim that the conversation with Keg was enlightening or inspiring. Still, he did fill me on the relative performance standards of the brothel girls in the city. It was not information that I had sought out or was likely to ever use but it did provide an insight into the lives of many of those in the city. And, I have a greater respect for those girls than I once did – for if they have to put up with men such as Keg and Larg, they deserve all the coins they earn and more.

The rough-looking fellow let out a loud belch, sending a wave of foul breath across the table followed by an equally unpleasant laugh. He downed his ale. “I knows what them girls can do.” A greedy smile crossed his face before he levered himself up and shouted across the bar. “More ale!” He remained standing, swaying a little as he spoke.

The last thing he needs is more drink. I need to keep him entertained or he’ll be trouble.

[Guido Faragas]

It Continues... As we continued down the trail, I became increasingly morose, convinced that there was something doomed about this expedition. I only kept my spirits up by inventing all sorts of imaginative punishments that I might apply to my annoying companions, should I have been a reimancer of a less equitable disposition. It was whilst I was imaging a particularly gruesome end for Keg – involving a rope, some oil and a chicken – that I became convinced we were being followed. At first, it was just an uneasy feeling but, after a while, I could almost feel the hairs on my neck stand up tall, as if alerting me to some danger. It was when the arrow flew by my left ear that I knew I was right. Although the first arrow startled me, it was the second one that did more damage, for it plunged into the rear of my horse. The animal was not amused, rearing on its hind legs and depositing me on the floor. As I fell, I caught my skull on the side of a sharp rock which knocked me senseless. It must have been some time later when I awoke for the light was dimming and the air cool. I moved my head to one side, only to find myself staring into the lifeless eyes of Larg. He looked no less ugly dead than alive – the arrow sticking through his neck had clearly done for the poor fellow. Behind him was another body that resembled that of Keg – it was still, so presumably he was dead also. If my bodyguards were both dead, why was I alive? I sniffed. There was a smell of cooking meat in the air. Turning my head slowly, I saw a figure hunched over a small campfire some twenty paces away. The figure was small and slim with a hood concealing the cook’s head. A bow lay propped up against a tree stump close to the fire. Surely this must be the assailant, unaware that I had survived. I kept still, very still.

[Guido Faragas]

She arrives... I lay still, contemplating my predicament. I was in no state to attempt any reimancy – indeed, my head had started throbbing violently and I felt nauseous. Desperately, I tried to practice a deep breathing technique that I used to calm my nerves. It was all to no avail and a few chimes later I retched violently, ejecting the entire contents of my stomach. The figure by the campfire spun round and I caught a brief glimpse of a dark face beneath the hood. I froze, not knowing what to expect – would I have an arrow through my breast, or something worse? Instead, the figure began to shake and then a loud laugh emanated from beneath the hood. It was a light, pleasant laugh, not the deep guttural guffaw of some rogue. The figure threw back its hood to reveal the delicate face of a young woman. She appeared to be no more than twenty or so years old and had short, cropped black hair. She continued laughing for a few chimes before putting both hands on her hips and giving me a disapproving look. “I am beginning to wonder why I saved you, if all you can do is defile my campsite.” I was taken aback and completely lost for words. In truth, I felt a little dizzy after the sickness and the smell of the vomit was assailing my senses. The woman walked up to me and offered me a water bottle. “Here drink this.” I took the bottle gratefully and managed to take a few gulps. It settled my stomach a little. “Let’s get you to the fire before I retch myself at the stink you have made.” She grasped my arm and helped me to my feet. She was surprisingly strong and muscular. A few moments later I was sitting huddled by the campfire. “I am most grateful to you,” I managed to stammer. “Who are you?” “Me, pal?” She said with a wry smile. “I’m your guardian angel.”