Battle Mage of Mehonoris: The Changeling by Kiyomo | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

Chapter Seven

3540 0 0

Chapter Seven

Alder stretched his back as best he could and twisted side to side, a delightful chorus of cracks and pops filled the air and he could feel the tension of the ride slip away. Nevermind the attempted, well partially successful, robbery the most agitating part of the trip had been the sitting. So much of his journey had been spent in the tight quarters of one cart after another. Jeanns Carriage/cart hybrid was far better for distance, but it too eventually left one with both a sore ass and back. 

Jeann followed Alders motions, the sounds of popping dulled beneath the womans plate and mail, but present nonetheless. She reached for her blade and refastened the belt loops. She was always armed, whether with Ethereal or mortal weapon, Jeann was always the most dangerous woman on the field. 

“Ah, Lady Jeann. You’ve returned with Sir Alder then? Ah you must be him, an absolute pleasure.” The attendant that greeted their carriage at the rear gates of the Kings Pere Hall was a short man, shorter than that of the Dwarves he’d seen earlier, clearly on of the smaller folk that came from the west. Strange people they had always seemed to Alder. Shorter than child but strong as a horse, it didn’t seem right. 

“Greetings, Penulma.” Jeann gave no expression to the man. “Yes, this is Alder of Mehonoris. We’re here to see the team before we attend our dinner with the Count.”

“Dinner? I don’t remember anything about Dinner.” Alder said bemused.

“Excellent, Excellent!” Penulma bowed, a feat that seemed strange on someone so short and hastily began chirping a few curt instructions to the surround workers and slaves that worked the rear warehouses. “Right this way then, your group has been awaiting you in the Hall of Hesta.”

Jeann perked up an eyebrow but otherwise said nothing, choosing to follow the short man with Alder in tow. 

The Hall of Hesta was one of the first floor meeting halls that some teams could rent out if they were large or well known enough. Most of the servants and other Peres would avoid occupied rooms, often duels were held in quiet or missions of great discretion planned within. They had some sort of warding that Alder had never studied before but knew a deal about. Silencing sound beyond a certain point, refusing entry and blocking intruders, some could even be used to create copies of the room in other planes. 

The doors of Hesta Hall were nearly five men wide and just as tall. It held sloping tops of left and right, and engraved into the wood itself was an ever glowing depiction of the Rise and Fall of the First Queen in all her radiant Glory. It showed a tsenian woman kneeling beside the corpses of children slain by beasts. It showed her holding court, leading sermons, charging battles, signing treaties, getting married, being granted powers by the God of Creation himself, going insane from power, killing all around her and fleeing…

“Right then, here we are.” Penulma gave the two another quick bow and then departed. The man moved faster than Alder could have thought possible and before he could stop to object he had vanished. 

“Well then.” Alder said “Quite a fast one.”

“Yes, yes. One of the less annoying ones.” Jeann scowled towards Penulmas last location before looking to the door. “Well?”

“Well?”

“Open the door curse you! You’re in front!”

Alder jumped in surprise but obeyed, swinging the wide door open with a creak. It swung with far more ease than he’d anticipated and as his hands left the wood he could almost feel a tingling on his fingertips. It was a strange sensation, almost like dropping ones hand into a jar of jam only to reveal a few patches of the substance having stuck. 

“There you are!” A rough voice called. It was a woman, so far as Alder could tell, but the words were spoken as if something was stuck in their mouth. Turning to face open room, Alder found out exactly who and why. 

“Ulma!” Jeann ignored Alders slackjaw and brushed him aside, gripping Ulmas forearm with force.

Ulma was nearly seven foot, arms and legs as wide as a normal mans head and muscled with the look of having worked in the Yuru mines. Her skin was speckled and cracked with the appearance of living stone. Had he known any less of the Kamdu-re he’d have suspected it was stone, yet even knowing the truth he found it hard to distinguish. 

Ulmas frame was firm, strong, well built, a fighters build. She wore a loose linen undershirt fitted with strong gleaming plates at specific intervals along her shoulders, elbows, and forearms. Straps hung loosely at the shoulders, indicating the threading of a central unify breast plate. Straps above her waist leading down to similar slotted plates along her waist, thigh, and shins completed the puzzle. 

“I know that armor…” His mind slowly connecting the dots “Thats Academy Armor. Thats Battlemage Academy armor. Why do you have that?”

“I see we will do this first.” Ulma said gruffly, looking down to meet Alders eyes. Alder suddenly felt much shorter and far less sure than he had meere moments before.

“No, I… I didn’t mean anything by it.” Alder started. He desperately wished he hadn’t said anything. He had just been so surprised to see someone else in the old, and frankly outdated, armor. “So few are made, and so few actually use theirs is all. Did you buy it off of a school?”

“I killed the owner. A Battle Mage from Skehri region, in Ugupmupian lands. He was a fool, but he had good taste.” Ulma seemed to wait for a reply. When none came, do mostly to Alders shock at a number of details in that story, she smiled and gripped his shoulder in a reassurance manor. Apparently that had been that.

“So Ulma, care to introduce us! You’re holding them up in the door and all,” A man called from within. The voice was higher, almost joking. “Oh I know, you planning on robbing them like you did us?”

Inside the hall Alder could see several long tables distributed across the room. Benches rested on either side, three pronged candles hung affixed to scale like lanterns atop each table. Long brick platforms ran in diagonals spreading from the four corners of the room, atop each was a thin hearth alite with crackling blue-red fire. Three massive windows spanned the rear of the room, blinds drawn to let in what light remained before the night consumed day once more. 

At a table near the rear sat two figures, each holding dented or burnt cards of some sort. They were both Ugupmuian, which wasn’t an oddity so close to the mountains and tunnels. What was odd was that one was an Ugupu-Gno, a short fellow only a few heads taller than Penulma had been. He wore all black leathers with a thin silver speckled belt wrapped around his waist. His face was angled and he almost wore the ears of a Tsenian, their shape cut just short of Alders own length. His face was lean, his mustache and beard well trimmed and cut to an angle. Black eyes, black hair, gray skin, in his ensemble the short man appeared a near phantom amongst the rooms decor.

“What?!” Ulma bellowed. She stomped across to meet the shorter fellow with disdain, throwing a few chairs aside in the process. 

“Dantes, don’t...” The Ugupmu-Dwa, the dwarf, beside the short man said. Dantes apparently. Dantes only winked and waved happily to Jeann and Alder.

“Evenin folks.” Dantes called cheerfully

“Rob you?!” Ulma spat the words “You think I  rob you? You Disgrace me! I should kill you for this!” Words flying, spittle joining, Ulma hissed the words through clenched and tusked teeth. 

“Ulma,” The dwarf began but Ulma cut him off with a glare.

“Not. Now. Boulin.” She turned back to face Dantes, who was now shuffling his hand of five cards while making a face of pure bewilderment. 

“Come now Ulma,” Dantes said “Theres no need for anger, I didn’t mean to offend you. I only meant that with all this luck you’ve been having, why I’m just surprised is all.”

“So I am a liar and a robber to you?”

“Good Hesta no, but your skills are questionable. After all, weve been playing nightly for nearly four days now and Boulin and I have, with all respect, handly beat you each night.”

“Dantes-” Boulin started.

“But now,” Dantes gave no care to his companions heeding “You have won nearly everyhand tonight. You have to say that sounds just a tad suspicious does it not?”

“I have practiced.” Ulma said confidently “Played alot during the day at the taverns too.”

“Evidently so.” Dantes mused “You’ve been rather quiet Boulin, what do you think?”

Boulin screwed up his face before taking a sip from his tankard resting before him.

“I’ll agree.” Boulin said “It is odd. That aside I don’t-”

“There see?” Dantes said, looking to world as if he’d just been crowned king. “He said so himself.”

“Wait, Dantes is losing?” Jeann asked. She unstrapped her breastplate and let the two pieces slide to the ground in a clump. Her custom gambeson bore the sigil or Rubedelle’s most famous General, a ruby tower before a sapphire sea. She relaxed as she stretched back into the her chair, remaining bits of chainmail still giving their metallic tinkling from the slow movements. 

“It would appear so,” Boulin said “though I am too.”

“Well thats not a surprise,” Jeann mocked “But Dantes being at a loss, that is a surprise. Has Ulma really gotten that much better?”

“I have!” Ulma said. She took her seat across from Dantes once more, Alder sliding in along a side. 

On the table sat a small pile of cards beside a half cut deck and four cards facing up. A small shimmer pile of silver, copper, and gold sen sat alongside the four cards, indicating the bet before them. It was Kamdu’naj, a simple game of betting and matching. Soldiers and citizens alike could play it, easy to learn easy to master, the real trick came from reading the opponents. 

It had always surprised Alder when soldiers or nobility would play the game, given its origins. It was a Desert game, a game from the tribes. Simple to set up and play, but could teach so much more than one would expect. Scholars had claimed that the Kamdu had made it to help keep their soldiers minds acute and perceptive. Making them try to read each persons face and demeanor. Alder didn’t see it that way, He’d tried, but the game just seemed so much less appealing than studying or reading. It seemed pointless, to him it had always just looked like deceit. How well can you bluff, how much can you lie. 

“What are you up to?” Jeann asked. She fixed Dantes with a glare, the short man squirmed beneath it. Some of his confidence had left under her eyes. 

“We’re just playing for simple bets, but I swear she just started winning out of nowhere. Its incredible Jeann.”

“Mhmm.”

“I have been practicing.” Ulma reiterated 

“Are we dealing you two in?” Boulin asked 

“How much?” Alder asked

“A gold Sen.” Dantes said. He shifted the position of two cards in his hand.

“Thats not so bad.” Jeann said. “How come there’s so much on the table?”

“She’s been on a streak.” Dantes groaned

“So?” 

“Sure,” Jeann said “Alder?”

“Yeah, I suppose I might as well.” Alder said, resigning his purse to be emptier before the night was out. He enjoyed the games in his youth, but a lack of skill at them had left him with less than a desire to join in. 

“Excellent, next round you’ll deal Jeann.” Boulin said 

“Really? Don’t trust Ulma to deal?” Jeann asked. Boulin didn’t respond.

“Boulin!” Ulma shouted

“You have been on a good streak… often right after you deal…” His voice sounded reserved

“Wow, you’ve really shaken them Ulma. Thats a feat.” 

“I will end you all.” Ulma said “But quickly, this disgrace does not change that we are friends.”

The group laughed.

 

 

Please Login in order to comment!