And onwards to the black market! I hope you're enjoying my story!
The graveyard had been warm, just like the rest of the city. The interior of the mausoleum was decidedly not warm at all. The air was cold and damp and seemed to cling to every inch of Alexei’s skin. He was nervous for a moment that the cloyingly cold humidity might cause his remaining explosive to misfire, but fortunately, the ceramic container was sealed well enough that no water was able to penetrate. As he found a flight of stairs that seemed to lead down into the depths of the Earth, lit only by sparsely located flickering torches, Alexei couldn’t help but feel like he was being watched. In fact, he was almost sure that he saw the skulls that lined the walls of the mausoleum turn very slightly to follow his movements as he began to make his way down the stairs. He swallowed thickly, his mouth dry, and decided to ignore the potentially necromantic goings on around him. He was entering a location called the black market, after all, he had to expect that there would be
Alexei wasn’t sure what his power had latched onto when he had touched the staff. Was it the living core? The concept of magic itself? Wood?Surely it wasn’t wood. What could you even combine with wood?“I know that look,” The old man said knowingly. It snapped Alexei out of his thoughts, “Sorry?” He said, “I zoned out there for a minute.” “That’s the look of a man who has found the foci for him, there’s no doubt about it,” The old man said, closing the case once more, “The only question is, does the man have the coin to pay for it.” Alexei rolled his eyes, the shopkeeper may have been old but it was clear that he still had the instincts of a businessman. “How much would you be willing to sell it for, then, I don’t see any prices,” Alexei said. His coin bag was about half way empty now, but he was sure that he had enough cash to pay for the staff. The old man sighed, patted the box, and said, “I’ll part with it for a single gold coin.” “I’m sorry, what?” Alexei all but choked
Alexei continued to watch the battle raging below. The bigger of the two men darted forward, his body shimmering with the telltale orange glow of an enhanced agility enchantment, and slammed his fist straight into the stomach of the smaller man. But despite the agility enchantment speeding the bigger of the two up, his speed was no match for the smaller. Somehow the smaller of the two seemed to bend around the larger’s fist, moving like he was made of water. With a swift upward motion the smaller man lashed out at the larger’s elbow with a strike that was infused with golden energy. The elbow inverted with a sickening crunch that could be heard as far away as the crowds were standing. The smaller man wasn’t done yet, either. He took a step forward, moving closer to the larger man’s chest and struck with a mighty two fisted blow that was launched so fast it seemed to scorch the air around it in a small halo of fire. The larger of the two men shot away as if he had been launched
Leaving the black market was a lot easier than getting in. While Alexei had been cautious and nervous about getting into the underground shopping district, in fear of someone recognising him and doing something unspeakable, all he wanted to do now was get out. He had a feeling that, if a few more seconds had passed, the creature that had been masquerading as a child running a weapon stall would have had its evil way with him. He could still feel its gaze on him as he began to ascend the stairs to the graveyard. He felt it as he made his way through the graves with his hood pulled up and his staff box clasped firmly in his hand. It lingered even up to the moment he walked through the door of the Trout’s Gills, the light of the moon on his back and Garrick the Gnome smiling at him from behind the bar. That smile fell flat quickly as Garrick noticed how pale Alexei had become. “Bloody ‘ell, man, what’s wrong with yah?” Garrick asked as Alexei sat down on one of the stools and rest
Alexei woke with a start. The smell of rust and smoke assaulted his senses, dragging him out of his slumber and back into reality. His eyes opened with a snap, what he saw made his stomach lurch in disgust and horror. The walls were painted red with blood, and at the foot of his bed was the dripping red decapitated head of Neave. Bodyparts littered the room, scattered like the forgotten toys of a child. “N-N-Neave…” Alexei managed to choke out, barely able to keep himself from throwing up at the sight before him. He didn’t understand what had happened, how it had happened, or even why it had happened. The assassins shouldn’t have sent anyone new out yet. He hadn’t begun his attack on the slave markets of Alandria. The prickle at the back of his neck intensified. “The nilbog,” He seethed under his breath, “The nilbog did this.” A peal of phantom laughter cackled from nowhere and everywhere at once, floating around the room, as disembodied as the head of his ward before him.
He wouldn’t sleep again until the Nilbog had been dealt with. That was Alexei’s plan, anyway. Clearly, the creature had some power over dreams, and Alexei had the sneaking suspicion that if it had managed to do away with him during the brief fight they’d had within his own dreamscape then he may not have woken up from the encounter. He had to focus on the positives, though. Neave was alive. The Trout’s Gills was not burning down. It had all been an illusion, a nightmare, designed to take him down. Now he knew that he could begin to work against it. Alexei took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His heartbeat was finally starting to get back to normal. He rose from bed, careful not to wake Neave up, and snuck out of the room with his day clothes in his hand and made his way back to the communal showers. It was still early in the day, morning sun barely peeked over the top of the many buildings of Alandria, so he wasn’t surprised to find the showers empty. It didn’t take l
Visiting the mage temple wasn’t something that just anyone could do. While many religious temples would allow believers and other members of the public to come and go as they pleased, mage temples were something quite different altogether. They were places of work, not worship, and for an ordinary person to arrive there would lead them to be in a very dangerous situation where magic could be unleashed against them at any given moment. As an initiate with a basic understanding of magic and a foci at his side, he would be well equipped to deal with the day-to-day goings on in a mage temple. That being said, his foci was technically an illegal implement, and arriving unannounced at the temple would still cause some pretty big waves throughout it. In other words, he was going to have to be pretty smart with how he went about gaining access to the temple. His best bet would be sneaking in over the rooftops and cornering the person that Lyla had suggested he should talk to one on one.
Alexei swallowed hard, his mouth was as dry as a pile of bones in the desert. Staring down a room full of angry mages, all with different foci aimed directly at your chest, had a way of making a person just a little bit uncomfortable. “I promise you, I mean no harm,” Alexei stated, “I have come here for help, and help only.” The mages shifted at that, they shared furtive glances as they muttered words that Alexei couldn’t quite catch. “And what is it you need help with that you couldn’t approach the temple through the normal channels?” Asked another mage from within the group. There were, of course, ways to petition the mage temple for assistance. But it was long, arduous, and often the mages wouldn’t bother lifting a finger unless there was something that could be learned or studied from the experience. “My need is an urgent one,” Alexei explained, “If it is not dealt with swiftly, I may not make it through to the next day.” More shifty looks. More quiet muttered words. “And