A Day of Training
Posted: Tue Jul 06, 2010 6:17 pm
Three men clasped in leather and tattered cloth, their backs against the walls of the alleyway, whispered in unintelligible murmurs. Two of them were tying a poor linen to their faces, masking their identities. The other already tied his cloth to his face and was sharpening his short dagger with a gray stone. He let the rock drop to the ground and looked back at the others, nodding at them - a signal.
They looked around the corners before hastily walking into the nearest shop. It was the shop of a family and their servants, a tailoring shop. As the renegades entered, one of the servants stopped what she was doing and looked up. Unsure of what to make of the masked men, she tried to remain calm. In a forced, hushed tone she asked, "Can I help you with anything today, sirs?"
The leader of the three let his eyes narrow, and the woman could almost make out a smile behind his mask. He pulled out two blades and placed himself in front of her. The other two men went down the stairs behind her as a shriek was cut short. The leader wiped his blades on his pants and confidently walked down the stairs. Once there, his assistants already had everyone on the ground. A dark haired Quel'dorei, the leader of the shop, approached the blond man. "Please," he begged, "Take it all. Don't hurt anyone."
The leader chuckled to himself at the plea. He raised closed hand with a thumb protruding from the fist to his neck. He swiped the thumb across his own neck, signaling to the other men to deal with the three servants and the head seamstress.
"No!" the man shouted. He turned his back to run to his lover, but the blond man thrust one blade into his back. As the man arched himself in pain, the thief drew another dagger and, with one hand pulling the old man's hair, slit his throat. The thieves proceeded to search the room for any amount of treasure. All of it began to be blurred out by a green fire, growing in intensity.
--------
He awoke, breathing heavily. Looking around at his surroundings, he realized not all of that was a dream. He was in the middle of Desolace, lying against the cold, hard earth. He thought of how he ended up there. A young, 27 year old magister. He returned home to find his parent's shop in destruction. He had no idea what to do, so he fled. Days later, a strange man offered to teach him the fel arts. Angry at the arcane for not being able to save what he loved, he accepted without hesitation. Last he remembered, his new mentor opened a portal for him. Dareus sat up from his position and peered into the distance. As he panned his view across the landscape, he saw two figures in the distance. A finely robed Quel'dorei made his way to Dareus. The other figure, a lanky imp, was heaving and pulling at a wagon filled with dozens of dead rodents.
"Ah, I see you've finally decided your training had a greater priority over your sleep."
Dareus' response was nothing more than a cold stare.
The warlock sighed. "Then we'll continue. You've told me you're good with fire. I'd love to see what the magisters taught you for the past twenty years. While Kizlok empties the cart, I'll tell you what you'll do. The first corpse? Send a bolt of fire towards it."
Dareus nodded and placed himself into a balanced position. He then followed the basic procedure with his hands, bringing them together after a series of movements, and igniting the air between his palms. The bolt of fire flew and hit the first rat, sending the corpse several feet away. Sadair then walked over and knelt near the rat. After moments of speculation, Sadair turned back to Dareus.
"Precisely what I expected. No burn, no lasting affliction. You simply darkened the fur."
Sadair walked to where Dareus was standing and followed a much more artistic pattern of movements with his hands, shooting a brighter fire bolt towards a new corpse. The rat slid a much further distance than the previous one. The completely charred body was aflame with the brightest yellow. Sadair smiled at his work.
The two practiced this technique for the rest of the day, Sadair finally dismissed Dareus and allowed him to rest. Dareus drifted off into a deep sleep. He began to have the same dream as before, except this time, before the thugs could hurt his family, they combusted into a green flame. Once more, the dream ended with his vision gradually becoming blurrier with the intensifying of the flame, until finally it was all that he could see. He awoke much easier this time.
As he opened his eyes, he felt a tugging at his robe. He looked down to see a small, fiery abomination. It was the same as Sadair's except considerably smaller. The imp cautiously backed away, but didn't run. Sadair was sitting on a tree stump several yards away, chuckling.
"It seems you've muttered more than just a few words in your sleep last night, Dareus. You've spoken your first summoning spell."
The imp hopped over to three stump and began shrieking in a foreign tongue. Dareus seemed to almost understand what the imp was trying to say. Sadair watched the imp at his feet and smiled as he listened to the language.
"He says his name is Quzpep. He is now completely bound to you."
Dareus almost smiled for the first time in days as the imp danced his way back to Dareus' feet.
"Come, we have much work to do." the warlock said to his pupil as he rose from the stump and began walking towards the distance.
They looked around the corners before hastily walking into the nearest shop. It was the shop of a family and their servants, a tailoring shop. As the renegades entered, one of the servants stopped what she was doing and looked up. Unsure of what to make of the masked men, she tried to remain calm. In a forced, hushed tone she asked, "Can I help you with anything today, sirs?"
The leader of the three let his eyes narrow, and the woman could almost make out a smile behind his mask. He pulled out two blades and placed himself in front of her. The other two men went down the stairs behind her as a shriek was cut short. The leader wiped his blades on his pants and confidently walked down the stairs. Once there, his assistants already had everyone on the ground. A dark haired Quel'dorei, the leader of the shop, approached the blond man. "Please," he begged, "Take it all. Don't hurt anyone."
The leader chuckled to himself at the plea. He raised closed hand with a thumb protruding from the fist to his neck. He swiped the thumb across his own neck, signaling to the other men to deal with the three servants and the head seamstress.
"No!" the man shouted. He turned his back to run to his lover, but the blond man thrust one blade into his back. As the man arched himself in pain, the thief drew another dagger and, with one hand pulling the old man's hair, slit his throat. The thieves proceeded to search the room for any amount of treasure. All of it began to be blurred out by a green fire, growing in intensity.
--------
He awoke, breathing heavily. Looking around at his surroundings, he realized not all of that was a dream. He was in the middle of Desolace, lying against the cold, hard earth. He thought of how he ended up there. A young, 27 year old magister. He returned home to find his parent's shop in destruction. He had no idea what to do, so he fled. Days later, a strange man offered to teach him the fel arts. Angry at the arcane for not being able to save what he loved, he accepted without hesitation. Last he remembered, his new mentor opened a portal for him. Dareus sat up from his position and peered into the distance. As he panned his view across the landscape, he saw two figures in the distance. A finely robed Quel'dorei made his way to Dareus. The other figure, a lanky imp, was heaving and pulling at a wagon filled with dozens of dead rodents.
"Ah, I see you've finally decided your training had a greater priority over your sleep."
Dareus' response was nothing more than a cold stare.
The warlock sighed. "Then we'll continue. You've told me you're good with fire. I'd love to see what the magisters taught you for the past twenty years. While Kizlok empties the cart, I'll tell you what you'll do. The first corpse? Send a bolt of fire towards it."
Dareus nodded and placed himself into a balanced position. He then followed the basic procedure with his hands, bringing them together after a series of movements, and igniting the air between his palms. The bolt of fire flew and hit the first rat, sending the corpse several feet away. Sadair then walked over and knelt near the rat. After moments of speculation, Sadair turned back to Dareus.
"Precisely what I expected. No burn, no lasting affliction. You simply darkened the fur."
Sadair walked to where Dareus was standing and followed a much more artistic pattern of movements with his hands, shooting a brighter fire bolt towards a new corpse. The rat slid a much further distance than the previous one. The completely charred body was aflame with the brightest yellow. Sadair smiled at his work.
The two practiced this technique for the rest of the day, Sadair finally dismissed Dareus and allowed him to rest. Dareus drifted off into a deep sleep. He began to have the same dream as before, except this time, before the thugs could hurt his family, they combusted into a green flame. Once more, the dream ended with his vision gradually becoming blurrier with the intensifying of the flame, until finally it was all that he could see. He awoke much easier this time.
As he opened his eyes, he felt a tugging at his robe. He looked down to see a small, fiery abomination. It was the same as Sadair's except considerably smaller. The imp cautiously backed away, but didn't run. Sadair was sitting on a tree stump several yards away, chuckling.
"It seems you've muttered more than just a few words in your sleep last night, Dareus. You've spoken your first summoning spell."
The imp hopped over to three stump and began shrieking in a foreign tongue. Dareus seemed to almost understand what the imp was trying to say. Sadair watched the imp at his feet and smiled as he listened to the language.
"He says his name is Quzpep. He is now completely bound to you."
Dareus almost smiled for the first time in days as the imp danced his way back to Dareus' feet.
"Come, we have much work to do." the warlock said to his pupil as he rose from the stump and began walking towards the distance.
))