To Rebuild a Mageocracy

Three

^^ Grand Sage Hothien ^^

— Arcata, Dungeon Guild Hall, Anitra(Laura) —

It took around half an hour for troublemakers to appear, slamming open the stone doors and sauntering into the tavern like they owned the place; bandit types, from the look of their patchy armor and rude behavior, but apparently they were known in these parts, as the room silenced immediately, gaining a deathly quiet beyond the bandits raucous entrance and procession towards the bar, where I sat on a couple of boxes to be of a height with the counter. In the lead was a tall, buff man with a pair of hand axes on his hips, and a smaller, rail-thin man that had a single long dagger on his right hip. Neither of them looked mighty intimidating to me; having lived in New York for most of my life, I could smell a real danger a mile away, and these two seemed like the type of person who would stand behind someone else: Minions.

My lip curled disdainfully, watching these two-bit thugs March through my new home, and I spoke before they could get to the bar to finish their dramatic entrance. "If you two ladies are done with your catwalk, you can turn around and leave now. If you want to return, you'll bring your boss."

A voice sounded behind me, making my spine tingle, and not in a good way. "How did you know they weren't the bosses?"

"I can smell a Minion a league away. People have been sending Minions to assassinate me since I was born. I wasn't scared then, and I've only gotten stronger since then. You, however, are different: you're a fucking drama queen, and I'll need to clip your wings before this conversation can continue in any sort of positive direction. Like so." The spell Faerie Fire lit up the invisible thief like a Christmas tree, making him think he truly was on fire for a moment as he flung himself to the side away from me and swallowed some sort of potion, which obviously didn't have any effect. The spell 'Phantasmal Force' followed, making him believe he truly was burning; he smelled his own burning flesh, felt the sting and cold sensation of his nerves dying, and in a panic he swallowed another potion, which, again, had no effect. "I'm sorry, did you think potions could cure the magical curses of a Champion of Muradin, God of Magic? And inside a Cathedral to said deity, at that? How's about another, eh?" I cast Slow and Grease on him next, getting rid of his clearly wicked speed and dexterity with the perfect combination of Lack of Traction and Lack of Momentum. "Oh, and here's one that I really don't know what it'll do to you!!! I've never used it before, after all, but if it works the way I think it does, you're about to have the trippiest ride of your life!!!" The spell Banishment came next, and he yelped once as he was grabbed by inky black tendrils and sucked into a black portal. "Oof... I hope that doesn't kill him... I still needed him."

While I waited, I turned back to the thugs in my bar, all of whom were frozen stiff, not moving an inch, and cleared my throat. "The Church of Muradin and the Dungeon Merchant Guild both appreciate your patronage; you may pay the Toll and leave, or pay a very different Toll, and face the consequences of said action on your own." There was no contest, really, and so the ones at the front dropped their purses where they stood, sprinting out of the room as soon as I nodded my head, and the ones at the back followed at full speed as soon as permission was given.

Two minutes later, the spell completed, and a bleeding, terrified thief was dumped onto the floor next to me, screaming bloody murder until a silence spell took away his voice. "Come now, it's not polite to scream in a church, is it? Have some manners, eh?"

The thief's mouth slammed shut, and he backed up away from me until his back was against the wall, staring at me with bloodshot, dilated eyes the size of dinner plates.