Fate of the Empires
Chapter 9: Tavern Brawl

I hate waiting. It’s so unproductive. And yet here I sit in my room waiting for Jun to complete his task for the Shadow Guild. Leaia is down the hall completely torn up because our search for the lizard ended in failure. We were a good team, but ultimately we did fail. I wish I could make her feel better about the situation, but I think she’s too strong-willed to be affected by one of my memory alteration spells. It is so unusual that I find myself empathizing with her. Since when did I start caring about others? And it’s not that I miss the Orrock, but after all the time we’ve spent on this mission I’ve gotten accustomed to our petty bickering.

I lie back on my bed in hopes that I may fall asleep, but just blankly stare at the ceiling. It’s relatively early and I am not in the slightest way tired. All of the excitement from earlier has left me wanting more. I think I will look in on Ethan to see what schemes he might be plotting now. The further we get from Athust the harder it is for me to locate him. I have to draw in more and more arcane energy in order to sync with his physical energy. This may be just what I need to reach the level of exhaustion I require to fall asleep. “Absonditus indagatio,” I utter the spell.

The black portal appears on the ceiling above the bed. Images begin to take form within it as I stare up. It’s bright. There seems to be people everywhere. Nobles. It is a party of some kind in the grand hall of Lord Darkwynde’s palace. The wealthiest members of all the noble houses mingle with each other, but for what purpose? Ethan makes his way around the large room speaking with various nobles of the western houses. What is he saying to them? There is too much noise in the background to hear him clearly. I need to see this in person!

Hmm…I can’t just show up as myself, however. Nothing a little bit of shapeshifting can’t fix. Let’s see…what person of importance is not at this little gathering that I can morph into? Ah, my old mentor, Deacon Amberlin. Looking like him should allow me to get close to Ethan as well. I will be exhausting a lot of energy this evening. “Commutatus conformatio,” I chant the alteration spell.

Body alteration spells are amongst the more painful non-lethal spells in the arcanum. Essentially one has to be around the same size as the person or thing you are mimicking because your flesh is simply reforming to their shape. More powerful versions of this spell will cause instant muscle and tissue growth so you can look like larger people or creatures.

I grit my teeth as the alteration begins. It feels like thousands of needles are being driven deep into my skin and muscles. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wind up cringing on the floor every time I cast it on myself. Once the pain subsides I slowly stand and start to move around in order to adjust to my new body. I look at my reflection in the water of the washbasin near the bed. Truly amazing! I am the spitting image of my old master, down to his posh style of dress. My hair has grayed and the age lines of a man who has repeatedly abused his magical power have appeared on my face. I am ready!

Teleportation requires a caster to have seen the location they are transporting to or a mage could very well gate out of existence. I envision in my mind a spot outside the palace. I wouldn’t be able to transport inside the palace even if I wanted to. I picture a place that I have seen before. Somewhere dark where I won’t be seen materializing out of thin air. I cannot afford to lose focus on this. The distance is great and if I fail the spell I could wind up anywhere. “Muto brevis,” I close my eyes and speak the words.

I open my eyes. It’s the palace. I’m in the outer courtyard by the palace walls. I take a few minutes to rest against the wall. Long-range teleportation requires a lot of magical energy. If you can’t pull what you need from the outside it will take the rest from your own life force. After the dizziness fades away I take a few deep breaths to regain my composure. I have a party to get to.

With my false identity I walk freely around the castle grounds without being hassled by the guards. The main doors to the palace are open. Fortunately, I am not too late. It appears that other guests are still arriving. I walk in like I am on the guest list. It is not until I make it to the grand hall that I am stopped. A royal greeter approaches as I get to the large doors that lead inside. “Master Amberlin, this is a most unexpected surprise! Please, right this way!” he says with the deepest admiration.

That was easier than I thought it would be. The greeter guides me inside the grand hall. I am impressed. The king really knows how to hold an engagement. Glowing crystal chandeliers dance light off the hall’s tapestry laden white walls. A long table in the middle of the hall runs the length of the room. A most elaborate spread of foods covers the entire tabletop. Glazed duck and roast pig. Soups and cheeses from the west. Wines and sweet breads from the east. Exotic fruits and rich desserts from Borath. There is just so much! I hope I can concentrate. “Master Deacon Amberlin, 2nd Degree Archmage of the Black Flame!” the echo of the greeter’s announcement snaps me back to reality.

The entire room looks my way. This is awkward. Don’t shy away. I give a confident nod to the crowd. Everyone acknowledges me before going back to their own business of conversing with each other. I spot Ethan across the room and he does not look pleased. He motions me towards him. I guess it won’t take much effort to get close to him. I make my way through the ocean of people to Ethan’s location in the corner. As soon as I approach he grabs me and pulls me close. “What are you doing here?!” he questions harshly, but quietly, “You are supposed to be fulfilling your end of the plan.”

“My apologies,” I reply.

A questioning look crosses Ethan’s face. “What is wrong with your voice?” he asks.

Idiot! I forgot to cast a vocal alteration spell to mimic Deacon’s voice! “It’s just hoarse,” I lie trying to impersonate Deacon.

I’m not sure Ethan is buying it, but he seems to dismiss it. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“How could I pass up the opportunity to make an appearance at a gathering of this magnitude?”

“Deacon, your arrogance is going to be the death of you. You need to go. How do you even know where Jun and the others are right now if you’re here?”

“Relax. They are still in Cove. They’re having some troubles at the moment. You have nothing to worry about. I’m keeping a close eye on them.”

“Not close enough. I have sent Slade on ahead to Densetsu. You will rendezvous with him once you arrive in Jinsei and continue as planned. Now I want you to leave here. Immediately.”

Why is it no matter who this man is talking to he manages to remain completely vague?! I can’t even get straight answers as an archmage. Ethan must really trust no one but himself. Can’t say I blame him really. Most of the time others will just let you down. “As you wish,” I say with an overdramatic bow.

I take my leave of Ethan, but not of the party. I make a quick stop at the banquet table to snag a slice of roast duck. I glance back to find Ethan watching me like a hawk. I give a little wave before walking over to the exit. “Have a wonderful evening, Master Amberlin,” the greeter says to me as I walk out of the grand hall.

I may have just done the most moronic thing of my career. There is no way Ethan was completely convinced by my performance. He is not a fool. What’s worse is the little information I did get from him troubles me. If Slade is as dangerous as Jun makes him out to be and he’s working with Deacon, one of the most sadistic men alive, we may have a serious problem.

What is your plan for us, Ethan? I know you have set us up for failure. I just don’t know how or why yet. Jun knows Ethan better than he knows himself. I should probably seek his council on this matter and report my findings. It’s either that or go back to the boredom of my inn room…off to the Gemini Tavern it is!

After I return to the Black Widow Inn and change back to my normal form I have two options. I can try to locate Jun’s spiritual energy in order to teleport directly to him or I can ask directions and walk to the tavern. Common methods of travel can be so inconvenient, but I have already exhausted much of my arcane endurance this evening. It would be wise for me to reserve what strength I have for the tavern. I hate the limits of my mortal body!

I sneak down the hall passed Leaia’s room to the stairwell. I pause at her door to listen. I don’t hear anything. She must be asleep. I continue down the stairs where I find Gwyneth sitting on the front desk with her legs crossed in a manner unbecoming of a small child. But she is no normal child. I sensed this the moment I saw her. “Hello, Gwyneth,” I nod to her.

“Hello, Master Domagus,” she smiles at me.

The shock of her greeting takes a few moments to set in. What did she just call me? We didn’t give her our names. “How do you know my name?”

“Mother is quite fond of you. It’s not everyday she meets someone just like her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Magnus Domagus, high mage of the 1st degree. Passed over for 3rd degree archmage twice due to insubordination. Pupil of 2nd degree archmage Lothar Wyllfoxx.”

This little girl is beginning to scare me. She seems intimately acquainted with the Black Flame and she knows more about me than I’d like. It’s true I should be an archmage by now, but I have been held back at Deacon’s request. He’s always hated me since I almost beat him in a mage duel. Me, a mere high mage. Ever since that day he made my life at Draz’zt Tharr a living hell. “How do you know so much about me, little one?”

“I am not a child, Magnus. You shouldn’t treat me as one.”

Not a child? What in Orin’s name are you? “You’re not a child?”

“Well, not really.”

“Then what are you?”

“I’m a double of mother.”

“Alarra?”

“That’s correct.”

A double? An exact copy of Alarra? That would explain the strange resemblance. Alarra must be far more powerful than I would’ve imagined and it makes me want her even more! A doppelganger spell is one that isn’t even in the Black Flame arcanum. Essentially you are taking part of your own life force out of your body and placing it into a lifeless vessel created from your own blood. Once you breathe life into the double it shortens your own natural life span, but the essence you placed into your doppelganger will grow into a new, full span of life. If one can raise the double entirely in their own image they can seemingly live forever, one facsimile after another. I wonder how many Alarra has gone through.

“Well…you certainly do look like her.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you feel that way because one day you and I…well, you and mother are going to be together.”

I’m very uncomfortable right now. What does one say to that? “How nice,” I force a smile.

Gwyneth hops down from the desk and wraps her arms around my waist. “I knew you’d think so.”

I gently remove her arms from around me and step back from her. I kneel down and look her in the eyes. Strange. Looking into this child’s eyes and seeing a mature woman staring back at me is unsettling to say the least. “I…need to go. I have some business to attend to. Can you tell me how to get to the Gemini Tavern?”

“It is on the north side of the city. Take the main road like you are going to the docks. There are some road signs with arrows painted on them along the way that will guide you. You can’t miss it. It is quite a busy place at night.”

“Thank you, my dear. Please give my regards to your…mother.”

“I will,” Gwyneth winks as she answers.

I take my leave of her and exit the inn. I make my way along the main road, but all I can think about is Alarra. I do find power seductive, but she frightens me a little. I think I like it. Maybe she can clone me too. Then the two of us can live forever as the most powerful couple in the world!

It is rather late by the time I reach the outside of the popular Gemini Tavern. Looking through the open doorway I can see that there is not one empty seat in the house. I put on a smile and enter the rowdy pub. My initial scan of the room doesn’t reveal Jun anywhere in sight. Perhaps he is not here yet. I push my way into a small spot at the bar. I look around the room once more. This establishment is not much different from the rest of the taverns I have seen on our journey. There are tables of varying shapes and sizes with patrons crammed into every opening. There is a form of gambling going on in the back of the room involving throwing knives at a wooden dummy. Serving wenches, both young and old scurry about the room bringing drinks and food from a kitchen area behind the bar. Still no sign of Jun.

I may be skilled at pretending to fit in here, but I honestly don’t know how people come to these places night after night. The stench of pipe weed alone makes my stomach turn. “Ey, frien’! ’Ow ’bout a drink?” I hear from behind me.

I look back to see a bearded drunk looking cross-eyed at me. He looks as though he could fall over at any moment. “Are you talking to me?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he responds, “Come ’ave a…come ‘ave a seat at my table. You look frien’ly enough…as long as you’re buyin’.”

I look over at his table where about five other equally inebriated patrons sit. This will give me the perfect chance to blend in. “Certainly,” I escort the drunk back to his table.

“Gents I want you to meet my old frien’…” he looks at me, “What’s your name old frien’?”

“Magnus.”

“That’s right. My old frien’ Mangus.”

“Close enough.”

“Why don’ you gents give us a few minutes to catch up on ol’ times,” the drunk ushers the others up from the table, “Come on, come on. Go get us some more drinks.”

The drunk gives his friends a coin purse and they reluctantly make their way towards the bar. The drunk sits and motions for me to do the same. “’Ave a seat, ’ave a seat,” I sit as he speaks, “And tell me why you are here instead of the inn where you belong.”

The drunks voice goes from almost unintelligible to perfectly clear and very familiar. “Jun?” I ask.

“I gave you and Leaia very specific instructions,” Jun speaks in a hushed tone, “I didn’t want you involved in this. Why are you here?”

“We need to talk. I may have done something…less than intelligent.”

Jun rolls his eyes. It’s near impossible for me to take him seriously while he looks like a drunk with a wispy beard and stringy hair. “What did you do?”

“Let me give you the good news first.”

Of course, now that I think about it there isn’t any good news. We didn’t find Draccus and I didn’t really learn all that much from Ethan. “I’m waiting,” Jun says looking very unamused.

“Okay there isn’t any good news, but let me give you the lesser bad news first. We didn’t find Draccus, but we do know he was taken by a gang of slavers. They left Cove this afternoon by ship, but we don’t know where they were going.”

“They are headed for Densetsu.”

“You had some luck I take it.”

“A bit. What is the other bad news?”

“Well, I was spying on Ethan as you told me to and I decided to go in for a closer look.”

“What do you mean, go in?”

“There was a large gathering at the royal palace so I teleported there to get close to Ethan.”

“You did what?!” Jun shouts without raising his voice.

“I was in disguise, but I think Ethan may have seen through it.”

“What were you thinking?”

“Before you get too upset, hear me out. I did find something out.”

“What?”

“Deacon Amberlin is to meet up with Slade in Densetsu to finish out their mission. That is all Ethan would say.”

“How did you hear this?”

“Ethan thought I was Deacon.”

“It won’t take him long to find out it wasn’t Deacon that he spoke with.”

“I figured as much.”

“Do you have a reputation for sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong back at Draz’zt Tharr?”

“No, I didn’t start that until I met you.”

“Good, then you won’t be the first person Ethan suspects, which will buy us some time.”

“What do you think he’s up to?”

“I don’t know. Nothing makes sense. We will talk more about this later. Right now you need to go.”

Cheers and applause erupt from all around us. I look around the room to see what is happening. A tall, rugged warrior walks in from outside. He looks the room over with dark eyes while he runs a hand through his light hair. He has a large two-handed sword strapped to his back over a very ornate set of studded leather armor. The hero’s welcome tells me this is a man of importance. “Welcome Brock!” another big warrior pats Brock on the shoulder.

Brock follows the man over to a large circular table. The men at the table clear a space for Brock. One man even gives up his chair and volunteers to stand so that Brock may sit. “Is that your man?” I whisper to Jun.

Jun nods. “Have a drink with me,” Jun says quietly, “Won’t you?”

About that time all the drunks that Jun sent to the bar return with an entire tray of ales and meads. Jun is immediately back in character. He snatches up a pint. “My frien’ ’as decided to ’ave a drink wif us!” Jun slurs to his table companions.

Looks like I’m not leaving after all. I grab a stein and toast along with the rest of the group. I will play along and hopefully Jun will give me a signal when things are about to get ugly.

After two hours of fabricating intoxication, exchanging bad jokes, hurling insults, and building some false friendships Jun and I find ourselves at Brock’s table. Jun and Brock have taken up a game of throwing. Things are getting heated as the wagers get higher and higher. Brock is good with the knives, but nowhere near Jun’s skill. Jun’s current demeanor makes him appear clumsy and awkward. He disguises his skill so it appears that luck is the only thing keeping him in the game.

Someone must be very concerned for Brock’s well being because throughout the course of the night I have noticed four men watching his every move. They do not drink nor do they get distracted. They are ready to strike at any given moment if someone makes one wrong move. Little do they know that I am ready for them.

Brock throws two knives at once striking the wooden dummy in the head and torso simultaneously. The whole room cheers in approval. Brock turns to Jun. “Let’s see your luck beat that!”

“It’s not luck,” Jun stumbles to the throw line, “It’s all skill so you jes watch yerself frien’.” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Jun pulls his arm back to throw the two knives. One knife falls out of his hand causing him to throw the other knife way off target. He laughs. “I slipped,” he picks up the fallen knife and pulls out another, “Could I get a refrow?”

“Why not?” Brock answers, “I find this all very entertaining.”

“Oh, fanks frien’,” Jun looks over at me, “Dis one’s for you, Mangus ol’ frien’!”

That would be my cue. I slowly move behind Jun’s drunken cheering section. Jun rears back his arm to throw the knives. As he does he lets one slip. It flies back and hits Brock in the shoulder. It doesn’t appear to break the armor, but it infuriates Brock. “Hey!” Brock rushes Jun.

Brock grabs Jun and spins him around. Brock’s watchmen are on edge as he does this. “This is my best armor!” Brock punches Jun in the face as he shouts.

Jun stumbles back…just far enough. “Abicio abstrudo,” I whisper the words to my spell.

An invisible force of energy pushes the people in front of me into the already angry Brock. Brock’s four watchers immediately spring into action attacking anyone near him. Brock also begins swinging at everyone. Very quickly the entire room is in chaos! Fists are swinging. Chairs are flying. Tables are breaking. And I can’t help, but join in the fun!

The last time I got into a really good fistfight was my first year at Draz’zt Tharr. The other first-year students and I didn’t know any magic yet so when we got angry with each other we settled it the old fashioned way. It wasn’t until the later years that we could electrocute and light each other on fire. Ah, memories.

Either being sober gives me a huge advantage or I am a pretty good pugilist because I am taking down one drunk after another with little effort. One of Brock’s guards confronts me. He wields a short sword. He’s calculated. He doesn’t take wild swings, but quick thrusts. I manage to wrap part of my cloak around the tip of the sword. “Fulgor!” I touch the flat of the blade as I cast.

A surge of electricity shoots up through the sword into its wielder, launching him across the room. Things are starting to get out of hand. I need to find Jun. I move out of the fray and survey the room. Brock has made his way to Jun. Brock has his two-handed sword out and ready use. Jun appears to be unarmed. “Come on, frien’, I don’t want to hurt ya,” Jun says to his attacker.

“You’re dead!” Brock swings at Jun.

Jun rolls under the attack and strikes Brock in the groin. Brock drops his sword. As Jun pops up, a dagger appears in his hand. Before the two-handed sword hits the ground Jun drives his dagger through the bottom of Brock’s jaw, up into his brain. Brock’s eyes roll back in his head as he crashes to the ground. “I warned you,” Jun taunts.

Now is the time. I run over to Jun. I grab him by the arm. I focus on a spot outside, down the road. “Muto brevis,” I teleport us out of the tavern.

In a flash Jun and I are outside. The tavern is still within sight and the brawl within can be heard quite clearly. I think we are walking the rest of the way back to the inn because I am tapped out. I need to rest as soon as possible. “Magnus, are you alright?” Jun asks.

“Yes, just tired,” I reply.

“Excellent work,” a raspy voice says from the shadows.

The man from the docks with the scarf around his neck walks out from around a corner. “You are too good, Jun. I do hope you decide to reconsider my proposal.”

“Maybe someday, but right now I have my own business to attend to,” Jun answers.

“Fair enough. Your ship, the Dark Stalker, is waiting at dock four. The slavers are headed for Jinwu, a small fishing village off the coast of Densetsu. The captain of the Stalker has assured me that he can catch up to the slavers before they reach their destination.”

“Thank you, Jacob,” Jun says.

“My pleasure. Until we meet again, Jun.”

Jacob walks back towards the darkness, around a corner. “Would you like to tell me what that was all about?” I ask.

“I’ll tell you on the way. We have to hurry.”

Jun has me up to speed on Jacob and the Shadow Guild by the time we reach the Black Widow Inn. We walk in the front door to find Alarra and Gwyneth together at the front desk. Jun does a double take before heading for the stairwell. “Go get Leaia, I will be right up,” I say.

Jun gives me a curious look, but continues up the stairs. I approach the front desk. “A pleasure to see you again, Magnus,” Alarra smiles at me.

“The pleasure is mine, but alas I cannot stay.”

“I understand, but not to worry for we will meet again soon.”

“I truly hope so.”

“May I have something before you go? Something to remember you by.”

“But of course.”

Alarra takes my hand with her left hand. She smiles and before I can even think of how to respond she reveals a small knife in her right hand. She cuts me across my palm! The cut is not deep, but it’s quite painful! She covers the blade in my blood. I want to pull my hand away yet I do not. Gwyneth pulls out a small black cloth and wraps it around my hand. “This will help,” she says with an adorable smile.

“Be safe on your journey,” Alarra kisses me on the cheek.

“I will. Goodbye Alarra. Goodbye Gwyneth.”

The two of them say nothing more. They simply smile at me as I head for the stairs. I am definitely confused, but then again I have never met a woman that I’ve completely understood. I make my way up the stairs. I stop at Leaia’s open doorway before going to my own room. She gathers her belongings. It looks as though Jun has already brought her up to speed. I hope he didn’t mention that I snuck out.

When the three of us make our way back outside there is a carriage waiting to take us to the docks. It seems the Shadow Guild can be very cooperative when they want to be. We hop in the carriage and race to dock four. Just as promised there is a ship waiting for us in the harbor. The Dark Stalker. It is a small vessel built for speed. This is good. I think we can catch those slavers in this. The ship is made of dark wood and has black sails. What is with all the black? I hope Densetsu has a theme that entails more bright colors than we have seen lately. It’s not that I mind it, but it does get a little depressing after a while.

We get into a small rowboat and head for the Stalker. Jun rows. Leaia still looks very unhappy with herself. “Leaia, Draccus is going to be fine,” Jun tries to comfort her.

“It’s not that,” she replies, “We failed him.”

“You sound like you have already given up. Until his heart no longer beats in his chest, we have not failed him. I can’t have you like this Leaia. Magnus and I need you to be here with us as a warrior. And a warrior doesn’t give up.”

The look in Leaia’s face turns from self-pity to anger. “You’re right,” she says with spite, “I was being weak. I was being soft like a woman. I won’t let it happen again.”

As Leaia’s anger rises so too does the strange energy I keep feeling from within her. It’s getting much stronger. I can’t be the only one who senses this, but I don’t want to bring it up. I actually feel heat radiating from her!

“Good,” Jun says as he continues to row.

Good? Good?! Does he realize that she is ready to impale him on the end of her sword?! Wait. That is exactly what he wants. He knows she will never use that anger on him, but she may just use it on those slavers. Jun, you are a clever one. And I hope you have a plan for Densetsu because I have a feeling someone wants us dead. But no use worrying about that now I suppose. Let’s go kill some slavers!

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