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Rise of the Blade - Charles Moffat [63]

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his neck. The mage could do little but squirm his lower torso and stare up into the shadowy face of a man.

Chev licked his lips. "You are Grymav, correct?"

The mage tried to speak but could only croak. He nodded in the darkness and hoped the man could see him.

"I am Chev. I need your assistance." The warrior removed his swords from Grymav's neck and sheathed them quickly. "Get up and get dressed. Make one wrong move and I'll take off your other leg."

Grymav nodded quickly and got up slowly.

"Get moving! I don't have all night!"

Shocked into action, the mage hopped about desperately on one foot and pulled on his fur cloak.

Loaded down with magical scrolls that might come in handy for the task ahead, Grymav squinted around the pitchblack warehouse and quickly muttered a light spell. Simple yellow light lit up the warehouse and the mage got his first look at his task ahead. He also got an excellent view of Chev's cutlass pointed at his throat.

"Make one wrong move and I'm dead," he croaked, more to himself than to Chev, and approached the ship. "I'm just going to cast a detection spell now. I need to see what protections this has."

Chev nodded and lowered the sword to his side and waited.

Grymav fumbled about in his pocket for spell components and finally cast his desired spell. Inside he was tempted to grab the smoke powder and cast Ancient Flames, a spell he had devised in his youth and was still trying to perfect. The question was whether he could incinerate Chev with it.

The warrior waited with arms akimbo. "Well?"

"I, uh," Grymav fumbled for words. He knew now that the enchantment was a basic one that protected the ship from only mundane fire. It was defenseless against the Ancient Flames however. "I could burn it with a spell I have."

"Well, then cast it." Chev tapped the hilt of his sword impatiently.

"We'll need to stand back then. There's a lot of power behind this spell."

Chev gave him a doubtful look and with sword in hand he backed away from the ship. Grymav followed obediently, trying to figure out a way to keep his distance from Chev so that he wouldn't also be incinerated.

Chev paused and then grinned, the shadows adding a particularly evil touch to his wicked smile. "I know what you're thinking. Fire it at the ship. You'll just have to trust my code of honour. I won't kill you provided you complete the job." The warrior approached and clamped a hand down on Grymav's shoulder. "Go ahead, cast the spell."

The mage swallowed and licked his lips. He went through the delicate movements and spat out the command words.

It took a few seconds of silence but Grymav could see his spell starting to work. The wood turned a dull, dark brown and the iron fittings and nails turned orange with rust. Finally the whole length of the ship erupted into a roaring flame as the air itself caught flame and sent an explosion of energy erupting through the wooden ceiling of the warehouse.

Chev grabbed the mage and hurtled himself behind a stack of wooden skids. The action was not so much saving the mage from the backdraft of flame that swept through where they had been standing, but a living body shield against the falling debris that followed.

Martinez swayed in the doorway of a tavern when the explosion lit up the sky only blocks away. A quick jog of his vodka stained brain told him that Pierce's ship was in the same area and the fact was too much to be a coincidence. His curiousity aroused, the Harper spoke a command word and was lifted into the air on a draft of magical energy.

Floating down on the ruined building, he used a bandanna to keep his lungs clear of the smoke which didn't go well with his churning belly. Swirling through the smoke with his longflail at the ready, the fighter landed lightly like a prancing faerie. His trained ears caught the sound of movement near the back.

Stepping into the air once more, Martinez soared over the ruined ship and spotted a robed figure struggling with a broken skid that had landed atop of the poor mage. Drifting downwards, the Harper lifted the skid off the figure's

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