The Wizard's Council (15 page)

“Somebody wants us alive, perhaps they’ll see to it that we survive this at
tack as well,” Ector’s voice wavered.

“Well, either way I need to have a talk with my men. One hundred my boot!” Hamlin called back as he readied an arrow.

Sev dropped down to the floor before readying several more arrows. He and his men were close enough that they needed to take extra caution so as not to be seen by the orcs. His men followed his lead and fell to the ground before joining him in unleashing a barrage of arrows. The orcs, not expecting the arrows to come from their side, were defenseless from the arrow onslaught. Each volley of twenty-five arrows took down between ten and twenty orcs. Hamlin and his men added five more arrows to the mix, each of which took down one to three orcs. Ector and his Wizards used their magical prowess to summon three wolves. They sent the wolves forward, and the orcs engaged the animals. It was a quick fight, but it slowed them down enough that two more volleys of arrows overtook them. Sev placed his bow onto his back and rolled to his feet. He took off in a sprint toward the orcs, drawing both of his swords as he ran. His blades glinted in the moonlight, alerting the orcs to something previously unseen. Frightened and already weakened by the arrows, the orcs hunting party fell into chaos.

The Rangers descended upon the
orcish party and quickly trimmed their number down to below ten. Only three of the remaining ten even tried to put up a fight as Sev and his men continued their work. Hamlin and his men shot down the seven retreating orcs as the Wizard and Druids began to cheer for the victory that had been handed to them by the prowess of Sev and his Rangers. The half-elf turned to the small group and gave them a quick salute with his sword before heading for the orc outpost. He sheathed his swords and took the bow off his back. It split in two as he twisted and pulled on each side. The bow had been imbued with magical properties, making it nigh impossible to break. Sev, however, didn’t enjoy the feel of the bow against his back as he rolled about in hand to hand combat. He placed the two parts of the bow at his sides and replaced them with his hunting knives. Without even as much as a look behind to ensure his men were following him, Sev began to scale the outpost wall using his knives to assist in the maneuver.

Ector spurred his horse forward when he saw both Sev’s and his own Rangers charging the outpost. The Druids and Wizards reluctantly followed his lead. Sev could recognize the fear and confusion in the
orcs, something that his fellow Rangers also picked up on. The half-elf liked to press the attack when his enemies were psychologically unprepared. He vaulted over the top of the wall and landed on one of the orcs. As the two toppled to the floor, Sev dug his knives into the orc’s back. He positioned the orc in such a way that he was able to use his legs to launch himself off the collapsed corpse and into another orc. The orc stumbled into one of the torches that was hanging on a nearby wall and knocked it against the hut. Sev scrambled away from the hut as it went up in flames. The combination of the spreading fire and Sev’s Rangers invading the outpost was enough to send the entire complex descending into chaos. It wasn’t long before the Rangers had succeeded in eliminating the majority of the remaining opposition.

“Fall back! Our work is done here,” Sev yelled as the flames engulfed the majority of the fort.

He and his Rangers were met by Ector and the magic users. They were slaying any of the orcs that were trying to escape from the flaming structure. Sev smiled as he watched the fort collapse upon itself. The flames continued to burn the remainder of the wood structure as the Rangers began to set up camp around the massive fire. Ector and his men followed suit until a small ring of tents had been raised on the outskirts of the outpost. Once the camp was set up, Sev waved over for Solin and Caitlyn to join them. He then called Ector and Hamlin over to the large tent that had been raised in the middle of their camp. There was a small table that one of the Rangers had salvaged from the fort. Sev rummaged through his pack until he found a map and then he unrolled it onto the table.

“What exactly were you thinking?” Sev asked Ector as he waited for the others to arrive.

“My men told me that we were looking at no more than one hundred orcs. I acted upon the information that I was given. In hindsight, we should have checked to ensure that we had a decent count. However, thanks to you and your men, we are alive and well. That is more than can be said for those orcs,” Ector answered.

“Your mistake nearly cost both of us. There are few armies that can fight that many
orcs head on. Luckily for all of us, they didn’t see me or my men coming. Orcs may not be as precise as we are with our fighting, but they make up for it with brute strength and viciousness. They are not to be trifled with.”

“We just killed more than two hundred of them. How can you talk about them like they are so dangerous if we devastated so many of them?” Hamlin asked.

“You of all people should know, Hamlin. The orcs have been a threat since before any of us were born. We were fortunate to be able to ambush them today. They charged with little or no concern for what could have, and, in fact, turned out to be a trap. Orcs are not often that reckless,” Sev was obviously annoyed.

“I’ve seen you slay
trolls before, what are orcs compared to trolls?”

“A fair question, but not an entirely fair comparison.
Trolls are poor group fighters, they often get in each other’s way, especially when multiple trolls are fighting one combatant. Orcs are much better at fighting in tandem.”

“The fact still remains that you’ve killed more than your fair share of
trolls, Sev. That must stand for something,” Ector interjected.

“Yes, but neither of you even knew that I was present. You both took a rather large risk. Your group of sixteen would have been dead unless you had been able to conjure yourself out of the situation. I’m not trying to belittle either of you, but you need to recognize a mistake if you are to ever learn from it,” Sev lowered his voice as Solin and Caitlyn entered the tent.

“Our presence it really not necessary at this point, Sev,” Caitlyn said as she got closer.

“Nonsense, the two of you are as much a part of this as anyone now. I know it isn’t what either of you wanted, but we could use any help we can get.” Sev motioned for them to take up spots around the map.

“Who are these strangers?” Hamlin asked.

“This is Solin, formerly of the Riverton guard. Caitlyn is also from Riverton, she was a merchant there. They were both kicked out of their town because of me. It is my duty to ensure that they are escorted safely to another town where they can restart their lives.” Sev pointed to Solin and then to Caitlyn. “T
his is Ector of the Old Forest Conclave, and that is Hamlin of the Forest Guard.” Sev motioned toward Ector first and then Hamlin.

“Are we quite through with introductions?” Hamlin asked, seemingly impatient.

“Yes, we are. Is there something you are dying to share?”

“Not at all, I just want this over with.”

“As we can all see, this outpost was here at the Pass of Kerdan. This tells us that the pass itself is more dangerous than we realized. I move for heading back to the Druid Council and gathering together an army. What other opinions do we have?” Sev turned his focus on the map he had unraveled onto the table.

“We can stop by some of the
elven strongholds along the way and try to recruit for our army. That should help us maintain the upper hand,” Ector said.

“That is a distinct possibility, Ector, but I prefer to work in smaller groups so we can keep stealthy when needed. Perhaps we can raise an army to check on the pass and then part ways after that?” Sev asked.

“Split up how?”

“You are friends with Cormac, perhaps the
dwarves would enjoy seeing you enter their realm and warning them about orcs. In the meantime, I can be out doing what I do best.”

“You think that is wise?” The Wizard asked.

“At this point, we are needed in different places. I need to sabotage our enemies so that your fight is easier. In fact, I doubt any of us can stand much of a chance against the orcs. It is a simple concept that I have no choice but to pursue.”

“You aren’t giving yourself enough credit. You are excellent at nearly every form of combat
, and we might need you to lead the charge against the orcs and their underground encampments.”

“We’ll have to find a happy medium between the two. The surprise attacks on their convoys can cripple them in the long run, but if we can’t get some more victories sometime soon there won’t be a lot to fight for.” Sev took a deep breath and stared off into the distance, contemplating the situation.

Septimus smiled as he looked up at the city of Alamor. It had been far too long since he had visited the city. Now the Wielders were the main power in the city, unlike how it had been when he was learning to be a Warlock. He had only encountered the Wielders once before. It had been a chance happening, but it added much to his opinion of them.
Let’s see what they’re made of
, he thought as he entered the gates of the city. The city looked no different than it had all those years ago. He knew that the depths of the city would be different than it was when he last visited. The Wielders were far too smart to show any obvious signs of change in the fortress. It annoyed Septimus that they had the audacity to take over Alamor without even confronting him.
They are lacking in both honor and respect,
he thought as he made his way toward the nearby tavern. They had chosen to overlook an enemy that they knew little or nothing about, and Septimus was determined to make them pay.

“What can I get ya?” The barkeep asked as the Warlock entered the room.

“A warm meal and something cool to drink, preferably something without a bite.” The Warlock preferred to stay completely sober in situations that required his full attention.

“Sure thing, you need a place to stay for the night too?”

“Might as well. Put me down for three nights.” Septimus placed two gold coins on the counter.

The Warlock turned and surveyed the room. He needed to assess how the populace felt about the Wielders before making any moves. His best bet was to try to win over the friendship of the barkeep or any of his workers. The tavern was seedier than he was used to, but that suited his current needs just fine. He found a seat in the back far away from the door and the windows. The last thing he wanted was unsolicited attention. He watched as several patrons entered the tavern. By his estimation, this was the local hangout for the Thieves Guild. One of the tavern’s many shows was starting
, and several women made their way up to the makeshift stage across from the bar. Septimus scanned the room to see who was watching the performance and who was ignoring it. His chances of finding an ally would be greater among the latter group. There were three tables out of the fifteen total that weren’t watching the show. The first table consisted of three hooded men that glanced back at the Warlock every so often. One of the tables had two men that were so engrossed in their ales that they couldn’t even tell what was going on around them. The final table had three men who were actively looking around so that nobody could listen in on their conversation.

“Here ya go, hun.” One of the waitresses placed a plate of food in front of him.

“Many thanks. If I may trouble you with a question,” Septimus said as she started to walk away.

“I’ll send one of the otha gals over, I haven’t got time ta talk with ya.”

“Excellent, that will do just fine,” Septimus shook his head as she walked out of hearing range without acknowledging his words.

The Warlock looked down at his plate and smiled. It had been some time since he had eaten a meal cooked by anyone else. By the look of it, the inn’s standard fair was a roast leg of mutton. His smile faded when he noticed the lack of silverware. He let out a sigh and then grabbed the leg of mutton and began to eat. It didn’t taste as good as it looked, but it would do fine for the short period that he would spent in the city. He desperately needed information and was feeling rather impatient until a woman sat down next to him. His eyes drifted over to the seat next to him. She was far more beautiful than any of the women that he had seen working at the establishment. He cleared his throat and put down the leg of lamb.

“Where are my manners? Would you like some?” He asked, wondering why he was offering his food to her.

“That isn’t necessary, I’m actually the one who made it,” She winked at him and took a swig of her beverage.

“I am called Septimus, what is your name?”

“I know who you are. Your filth has gone unchecked in our city for far too long. You think we liked living under the heavy hand of the Warlocks? How many times must we hear you use the excuse that each Warlock follows his own path?” She stood up and clenched her left fist.

“I haven’t a clue what you are referring to. Last time I was here, this city loved us.” Septimus stood and took several steps back so that the rest of the inn couldn’t see him.

“It has been ten years since we pledged our allegiance to the Wielders. Your kind has already done enough for us. We don’t need you anymore.” She followed him into the shadows.

“Why would you turn on us? We’ve looked out for you for a long time, we deserve better.”

“You deserve nothing!”

“I deserve an explanation at the very least,” Septimus’ voice softened as he spoke.

“Your great protector treated us like animals. When he felt like it, he would take our things. If we protested, he would have one of us killed. This went on for years and years with no other Warlocks showing up to stop him. One day two Warlocks showed up and joined him in his barbaric behavior. That was the day we turned on him. We killed his two accomplices, but we were unable to deal him the finishing blow,” Tears welled up in her eyes as she recounted the story.

“Who did this? I will have his head!” Septimus’ eyes began to light up as if there was a fire behind them.

“Malcorn, right hand of the high-and-mighty Septimus,” She put e
xtra emphasis on Septimus’ name as if it were a dagger aimed at his heart.

“Malcorn was nothing more than
a worm. I released him from my apprenticeship after three months. We assumed that he disappeared off somewhere. You said that you were unable to deal him the final blow, where is he now?”

“He used his power to shut himself off inside the tower in the center of town. Most of the time, we are able to stop any spells that get through, but not always. It is a burden that we bear alone. The Warlocks have done enough harm as it is. I must ask you to leave.”

“You couldn’t make me leave if you wanted to and you know it. I will take care of Malcorn, and then we will talk about Alamor.” Small tongues of flame leaped out of the edges of Septimus’ eyes.

“There is no stopping you, is there?” She asked.

“Not this time. The Warlocks may each live by their own set of rules, but part of the essence of being a Warlock is taking care of one’s own. Malcorn crushed us at our essence. Reputation is everything, my lady. Remember that.” Septimus bowed and then spun toward the door before she could even respond.

“Talia, that is my name,” She called after him as he opened the door and disappeared through it.

The cold night air burned Septimus throat as he breathed in deeply. Malcorn had been his first apprentice.
The fool wishes to play with fire
, Septimus thought as he made his way toward the tower. Both of his fists were engulfed in flames, and the fire was spreading from his hands to the rest of his body. It felt as though the fire was spreading as his hate welled up within him. Malcorn had always been foolish, but he was one of the most powerful magic users that Septimus had ever met. He took in a deep breath as he saw the tower rising up above him. The two Wielders that were standing guard at the door didn’t even try to stop Septimus as he approached the main door of the tower. He shook his head as he noticed the spell wards that Malcorn had placed on the doors.
Typical Malcorn
, he thought as he reached his hand out to open the door.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” An elderly gentleman with a grey beard said, placing a hand on Septimus’ shoulder.

“I’ve already spoken with Talia, she knows that I am getting Malcorn off your hands,” Septimus replied as the man moved between him and the door.

“I’m afraid that Talia and I aren’t seeing eye to eye at the moment. You would best to turn back.” The man’s leathered face looked much older than he seemed.

“You seem to enjoy invoking fear. I don’t like people who try to frighten others. Stand aside and I won’t harm you.”

The man chuckled and looked at the two guards. They both shrugged and stood their ground.
This man can’t surely be serious
, Septimus thought as he took a step forward. The man thrust his hand toward Septimus, but the Warlock was much too fast. He caught the man’s wrist and thrust his other hand into the man’s chest. The elderly Wielder was thrown back into the doors, causing them both to crash open, and the spell ward to release a static shock. Septimus took several steps forward before lifting the man off the ground and shoving him further into the tower. He was unsure of the man’s connection with Malcorn, but he wasn’t about to let an ally of Malcorn slip through his fingertips. The older mage tried to wriggle free several times, but was met with a burst of fire from Septimus each time. Septimus recognized the laugh almost immediately as he entered the next room.

“I see you’ve finally caught on to my schemes, Septimus. It appears you’ve also brought along a stool pigeon.” Malcorn was taller and thinner than Septimus remembered.

“This is between you and me, Malcorn. You are the failed apprentice that didn’t know any better, now it is time for the master to clean up the mess you have caused.” Septimus shoved the older mage aside and faced Malcorn.

“No! It is you who will be shown the true power of magic. I’m ten times more powerful than when we last met. This fool will only help me reach even higher places.” Malcorn darted across the room with speed that Septimus could scarcely believe.

“His teachings are weak at best. The Wielders taught themselves magic. You have nothing to learn from him.”

Septimus moved to intercept his old apprentice, but Malcorn was too fast. He watched in horror as Malcorn’s hands gripped the older mage’s head. The life appeared to be seeping out of the Wielder. Septimus lunged forward and placed his hand on Malcorn’s chest. His apprentice gave him a surprised look before getting catapulted backward. The attack had burned through the apprentice’s robe and left a hand shaped burn mark on the skin of his chest. He smiled as he looked from the burn up to Septimus. His eyes closed
, and the burn began to slowly disappear. A somewhat worried Septimus took advantage of his enemy’s momentary vulnerability. He shot an icicle at his former apprentice and then followed it with a bolt of lightning. The icicle slammed into Malcorn’s shoulder, digging in a few inches and taking him by surprise. It was followed closely by the lightning bolt, which caused the former apprentice to stagger back several feet.

As Malcorn was being hit by each spell, Septimus was preparing a third attack. He thrust his hands forward
, and a shockwave exploded out toward the younger magician. As the shockwave was traveling outward, Septimus created a jagged rock wall behind his former apprentice. The shockwave knocked Malcorn backward into the wall. He gasped for a breath as the more experienced magician sent a fireball at him. Septimus gritted his teeth as he strode toward his opponent.
It didn’t have to come to this
, he thought as he readied a small black sphere in his right hand. Malcorn’s eyes went wide when he saw the sphere in Septimus’ hand. He tried to get words to come out, but it was futile. The former master sighed deeply as his lifted his right hand and pressed it against the other’s chest. Malcorn let out a gurgling sound as the sphere absorbed into his chest. His body went limp as soon as the entire sphere was gone.

“What in the Maker’s name have you done to him?” The elderly mage asked.

“It had to be done, Wielder. Don’t question our ways,” Septimus did not even glance at the man as he walked out of the tower.

*

Sev nocked an arrow and then peered out of the underbrush. There was a large clearing in the forest just ahead. It was swarming with orcs. By the look of it, they were the main portion of a small orcish assault force.  Sev couldn’t tell what their goal was, but their numbers were smaller than the usual orcish army.
Must be a reserve force or some kind of special task force
, Sev thought as he spied on the army. He turned back to his group. They had twenty-five Rangers and a small force of one hundred elvish warriors whom they had recruited from a nearby stronghold. The orcs numbered somewhere in the five hundred to one-thousand range, making a frontal assault impossible. Even an ambush on their flank would be difficult to pull off. Sev eased the arrow off his bow and placed it back in the quiver. He turned to the others and motioned for them to gather around him. As they got close, he held his right index finger up to his lips and then pointed toward the orc camp.

“We are severely outnumbered, without a plan we’ll never be able to defeat them,” Sev whispered.

“Don’t worry about volume, I know a spell.” Ector twirled his staff in the air.

“My Rangers can provide some sort of distraction, but even with that our one hundred
elves can’t handle the host of orcs.” Sev nodded in thanks to Ector.

“They are sleeping, why can we not take them by surprise?” Solin asked.

“Too many sentries. We can try to take out the sentries and then charge in, but I didn’t want to make that choice without consulting everyone else,” Sev shrugged his shoulders slightly as he spoke.

“What would happen if we failed to stealthily take out those sentries?” Caitlyn asked, much to Sev’s surprise.