A Merchant in Need is a Friend Indeed

It was a simple job, so Arik had taken it. The money would be welcome, as would the opportunity to stretch his legs on this fine Saturday. The sun was shining, the bird were chirping, and the caravan Arik was guarding plodded along beside him.

Arik was receiving an object lesson in just how boring guarding something could be.

The merchant who had hired him said that there was almost a guarantee of bandits attacking. He'd even described their appearance; men clad in white and black, five of them, with short swords. However, the road had been clear since they'd set off an hour and a half ago from the gates of Magnostadt, and Arik wanted them to either encounter these supposed bandits or reach their destination.

He got the former part of his wish first, it would seem. The checkerboard cloaks that each man swathed himself in as they stepped from the bushes onto the well-worn road named them as the gang he'd been hired as protection against. His thoughts started darting in every direction as he retrieved his staff from the lead wagon, waving the driver to a stop and planting the wooden rod in the ground, held in his left hand. He struggled to maintain control of his movements, and took a deep breath, muttering a scrap of a poem to himself to marshal his thoughts.

"Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire." He looked up from his muttering as the bandits approached and saw them laughing at him. He took another breath and smiled back calmly. "What's wrong, man? Cast a spell!" They jeered when they saw his staff. Still Arik grinned. He'd let them come just a bit closer, and they'd see for themselves.


~307/500~

Arik marked a spot on the road, an overturned rock. It was about 10 meters away. Just close enough for most of his spells, and close enough by half for the one he truly wanted to use. He'd not kill them, not out of hand, but he'd send these cowards mewling back home to their mothers nursing some nasty burns if they kept on. He started casting the spell, using another bit of rhyme to gather the needed thoughts into place. "But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate..." This time he raised his voice, for the enemy had drawn level to the rock. They stopped, uncertain of what the man was doing.

That was all that Arik had needed. "Böllr abr Gargzla!" The air shimmered in the midst of the bandits, and, a second later, ignited into a ball of light in the middle of the road. Arik averted his eyes. Three of the bandits weren't lucky at all, and ended up standing in the middle of the brilliant orb. Those dropped to the ground, out of the searing light and heat, and covered their heads with their hands.

However, the light was behind two of the bandits, and Arik could barely make out the shadows of those two moving towards him across the ground, distorted as the shadows were by the sphere of light and its celestial, and much larger, twin, the Sun, shining from odd angles to each other. The sun sat in the middle of the sky, and the direct light played havoc with the shadows Arik normally used to avoid looking at his own spell. He did know that they were moving toward him, so he started working another spell. "Bjart-Dramur!" A smaller sphere of light coalesced on Arik's staff and fired off at where he guessed one of the bandits was, with the directive to paint the image of a gaping maw of horrid teeth in front of the man's eyes. A sudden, startled yell made him feel like he'd connected.

Bandit number five took him by surprise. The man struck Arik in the back, but Arik had one thing up on him. Instead of the man's sword striking flesh, it struck Rukh. He didn't have many surrounding him in his Borg, not yet, but the couple dozen he did have flapped and took flight, having saved his flesh from a painful attack. Arik whirled on his heels, relieved to be facing such that his sphere of light was to one side of him instead of in front of him. He raised his staff once more and yelled; "Haina medh Aiedail!" Another orb of light coalesced on his staff and shot forth. Point blank range. Guy didn't have a chance. He went down, nursing a painful, if superficial, burn across his chest. "You guys have no tolerance for pain, do you?" Groans were the main reply, but the man who he'd blinded yelled a curse at him; "Damn you, you coward! Fight us like a man!"

Arik scoffed. "You'd have me fight without the benefit of my practice? You don't seem to understand." Arik turned to face the blinded man, shading his eyes and peeking through a small gap in his fingers to limit the amount of light that entered his eyes. "This is how a magician fights. Why should I lower myself to struggling about with a style of combat I haven't learned just so you all have a chance?" The bandit cursed again but didn't elaborate further, and Arik took the opportunity to plant his staff in the ground and catch his breath. Working so much spellwork, and so fast, left him panting like he'd run a quarter-mile with lead weights on his arms.

~935/500~

!Spells used:

• Böllr abr Gargzla (20 Magoi, wears off in 2 posts)
  
• Bjart-Dramur (10 Magoi, wears off next post)
  
• Haina medh Aiedail (10 Magoi, Ready to use in 2 posts)

Magoi Remaining: 60/100

The blindfold Arik's spell tied over the remaining bandit's eyes began to melt away far too soon for Arik to even catch his breath. The man was facing away from the sphere of light, and he caught sight of Arik immediately. The checkerboard bandit seemed content to go with the same plan B bandits always had; try to stab it some more. Still, Arik couldn't draw on the same incantation twice in such a brief period. I need a new attack spell. He wrenched his body forward, the motion abrupt and jerky rather than smooth and controlled. The twitchy, insectoid movement carried him past the first swipe of the man's short sword. The second he tried to step out of the way of, but it carved a shallow cut along the outside of his right arm.

Biting back a curse, Arik stepped backward, shielding his eyes again, so that the ball didn't blind him when he put the bandit between him and the sphere of light. Blood from his cut ran down the arm, causing a faint metallic stench to enter his nose. Forcing the thought aside, he drew upon one more spell, despite how tired he was getting. "Naina abr Fethrblakas!" The spell drew into being a small flock of brilliant, iridescent crows, which flew around Arik's opponent and made the shocked man step backward.

Arik closed his eyes and took a leap of faith. Literally. He ran straight forward to where he knew the man ought to be, jumped, and kicked. He felt his foot pass through the slightly warm gathering of energy that was one of the crows and strike the much more solid chest of a bandit, sending him tumbling backwards into the burning sphere of light. Arik landed on the ground, scarcely short of the sphere himself, and leaned backwards. Casting that much magic that fast had been rough. He'd hardly even accomplished anything by running himself ragged. He'd have to do better. He'd have to-

Arik was keenly aware that the ground beneath him was moving. He sat up and found himself inside one of the covered wagons, his arm bandaged. Behind him were five bandits, dressed like checkerboards and singed to various degrees, all hog-tied by the hands of someone who was exceedingly good with rope. Surmising that he must have passed into unconsciousness, he grabbed hold of his staff and dropped out of the back of the cart, taking care to step on a couple bandits' toes before he did so. He walked to the front of the small caravan and nodded to his employer, who said nothing but grinned in a smug matter at the road ahead of them.

~END TOPIC. 1383/500~

~I THINK I GOT THE WORD COUNT. DON'T YOU?~