***The Infernal Plane of Lust***
***Ebandon’s Warband***
Ex’zibril was meditating in his personal training room when Ebandon gave him a call through his guild-badge. This surprised the otherwise lonesome demon who preferred an existence of seclusion aside from overseeing the training of occasional new recruits. It didn’t happen often that Ex had to share what he had come to regard his personal space, but when it came to talented young individuals he had no issue doing so.
Reluctantly, Ex'zibril tore his attention away from the two students who had appeared in class today.
There was no reason for the warband's leader to call upon him if there wasn't a matter of great importance to be resolved. Such things didn't come up often, which made the circumstances all the stranger given that Ex had just been sent on a mission recently.
He raised his badge and clicked his mandibles when the light indicator on the artefact identified the call as important.
“Ebandon? Can I help you?”
“Maybe, have you seen Tornik?” the warband’s leader replied with a question of his own. “Your friend was supposed to report to me over an hour ago.”
Ex clicked. “He isn’t exactly a friend, but I happen to fraternise with him and some other tutors on occasion. Even so, what can I do about it if he fails to show up to a meeting?” He wasn't particularly keen on sorting out someone else's mess, even if Tornik was a drinking buddy.
“Normally, I wouldn’t be so stuck up about the guild’s available resources, but you know the political situation. We could be pulled into a major conflict at any time and I want to be sure of our capabilities. Tornik isn’t answering his badge and you are already down there in the training quarters. Please find him and inform him that he should get his ass to my desk asap or he can kiss his enchanting workshop goodbye!”
Ex slowly increased the badge’s distance to his face as the level of the guild leader’s voice rose a few octaves. No matter that the magical artefact wasn’t capable of transmitting the true volume of Ebandon's scream properly. The insectoid demon still had an aversion to loud sounds, since his evolution came with a very keen sense of hearing.
He sighed when the transmission was cut off and got to his feet, setting down his teacup. “Kitia, Jebril, I am on a short errand. Please continue to warm up while I am gone. We can test your performance once Amon decides to show up.”
“Oh, okay!” Jebril answered cheerfully. “Please tell him to hurry if you happen to see him. We have been waiting for him over an hour by now. I want to get our test done as soon as possible.”
“I will be sure to tell him,” Ex replied readily. There was no harm in reminding Amon of his duties. “Do you have an idea what could have distracted him?”
Neither of his two students knew, so Ex departed.
Tornik’s workshop was just a few doors down the corridor, so it shouldn’t be a great deal to find the quirky enchanter. Surely, Tornik had simply forgotten about his report. Unlike Ex, the enchanter was known to get caught up in the process of his craft. Ebandon's decision to have the man supervise all matters related to magical artefacts had always been questionable since a man with Tornik’s qualities wasn’t fit to be a supervisor.
He was also fairly weak. It was best to lock such people away in a dark room with plenty of resources and steal away the results of their labour every few years.
On the corridor Ex encountered Kirnok, the guild’s weapon-master who also happened to be a known drinking companion of Ex and Tornik. Ex noted that he had brought two students with him who also belonged to Amon’s clique.
“Kirnok.” Ex raised one of his arms in greeting when all of them came to a stop in front of the enchanter’s workshop. “Please don’t tell me that the guild master gave you also a call. He really must want that report.”
The weapon master snorted and pointed at the two large demons behind him. “Ebandon sounded pissed, so I brought some muscle to help the idiot along, just in case he doesn’t want to be separated from his work.”
If Ex had eyeballs, he would have rolled them, but his evolution had forever denied him such simple expressions. “I hope that won’t be necessary. Let’s just give Tornik a reminder and it will be fine.”
Ex laid his hand on the door and pushed it open, revealing a dim room with a figure cloaked in shadows who was working at one of the working benches.
Kirnok pushed him aside and strode into the enchanter’s space. He unexpectedly stumbled and almost fell over a body on the ground. “What by the Infernum!?” he cursed.
Ex leaned over and switched on the lights with the control panel next to the door, revealing a bleary-eyed Tornik lying close to the entrance. Someone had impaled him with a wooden stick that was covered in green, glowing runes.
Another demon was at the central workbench which was solely reserved for tutors. He was using an inscription tool on a weapon that resembled a staff. Sparks flew, lighting up the figure every time the tool touched metal.
Tornik reacted to the newcomers with a groan and tried to rise, but the stick buried in his chest prevented that with a discharge of greenish, electrical energies. The master enchanter’s tortured body shook as the eldritch energies ravaged his entire being and painted shadows against the green light that was reflected by the walls.
Kirnok quickly aborted his attempt at relieving his friend from the magical artefact that kept him bound. He had been reaching for the stick when it discharged. Consequently, he stepped back and almost slipped on the ground that was slick with blood. “Ash and Fire!”
The figure at the workbench stopped his work and turned around, removing a set of safety goggles from his face in the process. “Hey, what are you doing in here? It's enchanters only in this room!”
“Amon?” Ex was confused. “What are you doing here?”
“Working, obviously…” the demon replied with a straight face. Normally, Ex would have suspected an assassination attempt, but why would the assassin stay with the victim as if nothing was wrong? Something didn't add up.
Then Amon smiled. “Oh, and, apparently I passed the Enchanting class with flying colours! Hurray!” He waved at the two students who were spying into the room from their position in the corridor. “Shax, Philomena, come here and look at what I’ve made! I didn't realize it up until now, but apparently one of my souls is an expert enchanter.”
Ex cleared his throat, or at least he tried to by rubbing his mandibles together. “Please do tell how you managed to pass Enchanting?” It had been centuries since Tornik was satisfied with the enchanting skills of another demon.
“Oh, isn’t it obvious?” Amon looked down at the enchanter on the floor.
Kirnok made another attempt at rescuing the victim of Ex’s student, but a bolt of green energy zapped his fingers and rattled Tornik’s whole body.
“Please don’t pull that out.” Amon pointed the inscribing tool at Kirnok. “It was a heck of a job to get the stun-baton lodged in there to keep him immobilized. Let’s just say that a lot of jumping was involved once I realized that blunt objects aren’t good at sticking to an opponent. Next time I am going to use something sharp… maybe a real stake…”
“Jumping?”
“I would have used a hammer to stake him, but I hadn’t one on me and in the heat of the moment it also didn’t occur to me to search the workshop.” Amon shrugged. “Whatever, jumping worked well enough.”
Ex slowly felt despair creeping up his neck. “Amon, please don’t tell me that you actually think that you passed Tornik’s class just because you incapacitated him.”
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The demon frowned. “But I do? He is down there on the ground, and I am here, working with his stuff. He intended to give me some strange test which had little to do with enchanting. I decided that it would be better to test our skills and tools against each other… I won.” He looked at Tornik as if it was obvious who had the higher rank now.
“Well, no matter what issues you two had with each other, you can't incapacitate a tutor for hours!” Kirnok complained. “He has other responsibilities aside from teaching newcomers!”
Amon frowned and Ex didn't fail to notice the slightly changed grip on the inscribing tool. Earlier, Amon had held it like a tool, but now he was ready to wield it like a dagger, ready to stab someone.
One of Kirnok’s students – Philomena, if Ex remembered correctly – stepped forward and tried to defuse the situation. “Honoured masters, please excuse Amon’s behaviour! He is… special.”
“Special my ass!” Kirnok growled. “I understand that you younglings have some connection with the Ashborns and Ebandon was willing to take you in, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t have to respect our rules while you are living under our roof.”
“It was a misunderstanding!” the demoness continued nonetheless. “You see, Amon was never properly socialized. He didn’t grow up in a hatchery, so you can’t blame him if you don’t explain the rules properly. Unless I am mistaken, all we were told to do in order to pass classes is that we had to beat the teacher.”
Amon nodded behind Philomena.
“For combat classes!” Kirnok clarified and everyone turned to face the offender.
“I kind of didn’t give him the chance to explain in detail… and his suggestion was ridiculous. There is no way that I am doing a two-hour handstand to prove my dexterity just to gain access to basic equipment.” Amon tried to defend himself. “But I didn’t kill him. That was nice of me.”
“K-k-ill m-m-meee!” Tornik’s spasming figure managed to stutter between energy discharges.
“Release him!” Kirnok ordered with a firm voice.
Amon huffed, but he raised his hand, using telekinesis to dislodge the stunning stick.
***The Infernal Plane of Lust***
***Amon***
“So, you made this?” Ebandon studied the stunning stick with raised eyebrows. “It’s crude. Did it really manage to restrain Tornik for hours?”
“Yes, leader,” Kirnok confirmed. “Packs a mighty punch if I am allowed to say so.”
I wrung my hands and bit my tongue, holding back from correcting the weapon-master on the exact function of my educational stick. Once the enchanter had been released, they marched me in all haste to Ebandon’s office, barely giving me the time to pack away my improved staff. A night of work had given me the chance to explore my soul-given knowledge, but it felt like I had only scratched the surface.
“I- I- w- an- t- t- h- h- im p- p- un- ished!” Tornik stuttered. The stick had been removed and he healed up well enough, but apparently being electro-shocked for hours on end had some lingering side effects despite the remarkable self-healing capabilities of demons. The poor soul was still shaking like a mortal with a bad case of Parkinson's disease.
“For what!?” I asked. “You challenged me to a contest of wits to prove my craftsmanship and I won fair and square! It’s not my fault that a ‘master’ enchanter has no protective item against electrical discharges on his body. It’s such a basic attack.”
“Y- y- o- u- u- sta- b- b- ed- me wh- en- i- i- t- did- n’t- w- w- ork!” the enchanter stuttered back.
“I only applied sufficient force to touch your body with my stick of doom! Build yourself a better forcefield next time,” I defended myself, omitting the fact that hitting Tornik hadn’t been within the specifications of his challenge. But at no point had he stated that physical force was exempted from the contest. My stick of doom was also kind of intended as a weapon of brute force, so I didn’t see the problem.
Ebandon covered his face with both hands. “Why am I surrounded by idiots? Where are the good old days when minions just did their jobs?”
“Can I go now?” I asked, still not seeing why all of this warranted the attention of the guild-leader. “I could have done much worse to him, but I didn’t. Bringing this to your attention is kind of overdoing it.”
“That’s because Tornik was supposed to give me an important report! Which he couldn’t, thanks to you.” The guild-leader peeked through between his fingers. “Why didn’t you kill him?”
I edged around the truth. “He was out of commission. That was fine with me as long as I got access to the tools which he tried to deny me. I thought that killing him off would just have him coming back within the minute. Probably with reinforcements. So I just left him there on the ground.”
Ebandon’s expression grew stern and he growled before he hit his desk with a balled fist. An imp appeared and absorbed the blow with a squeak that would have otherwise turned the furniture into splintered wreckage. It disappeared and two more imps appeared to wipe up the stain before they vanished.
At some point I really had to find out the story behind the imps.
The warband leader regained my attention with a menacing growl that made me sweat buckets. “Don’t lie to me. I sense lies. What was your true motive in keeping Tornik contained?”
My face scrunched up as I tried to come up with a sufficient way to describe my motives, but Kirnok urged me on. “Just out with it. He will know either way.”
“I just like it when they scream!” I admitted. “The stupid idiot pissed me off with his nonsensical test and he screamed so nicely when I jolted him with the stick. Having my enemies scream is exhilarating, almost as good as fucking a female until she is a quivering mess!” Not that I had much experience with that.
The leader blinked and then his face relaxed. “That’s actually very demonic of you. Do you have any idea how valuable a weapon such as this one is?” Ebandon raised my stick. Thankfully, Ebandon ignored Tornik's stuttered attempts at getting me punished. Nobody paid attention to the enchanter at this point.
I frowned. “It’s just a stick that uses the target’s magical field against itself to cause a power discharge which disrupts the ability to move properly. The mortals have non-magical versions of this. It’s pretty much worthless.”
Ex’zibril leaned in and patted my shoulder. “Lord Ebandon, please let me take care of this. It’s clear that Amon lacks the necessary experience to judge the seriousness of his deeds. As his tutor, I should have noticed his feral upbringing. Allow me to correct this shortcomings. It is entirely my fault for not seeing this problem fixed earlier.”
“Hm,” the warband’s leader grunted and put the artefact down on his desk. “I will overlook this incident if you see to it that Amon makes more of these weapons. He can even have his own workshop. But don’t let him attack any more non-combat tutors. I am not paying these people good souls just so that they get beaten up.”
Ex turned me around and frogmarched me out of Ebandon’s office while the weapon master stayed with the enchanter.
“But my stick of doom!” I whispered, hoping that Ex would notice that Ebandon still had my stick on his office desk.
“Forget it!” He removed us from the vicinity of Ebandon’s office with urgency. “Do you have any clue how valuable such weapons are? Ones that can incapacitate a demon like Tornik for any length of time? Be glad that the stick’s applications seem to be limited or Ebandon would have locked you away in some room for the rest of your days.”
“I… have no clue?” I answered, a little stupefied at this development. “Why would such weapons have any value at all?”
Ex seemed agitated. “Think about it. Two armies on the battlefield, each soldier capable of re-spawning at an Anima Stone within minutes of their death. How do you deal with such an enemy aside from overwhelming force or a doomsday device that wipes out the entire army at once?”
I pursed my lips and thought about the tactics of such a situation. “If both forces are roughly equal in power, then it comes down to who has the superior strategy. Mainly, who is capable of capturing the opponent’s Anima Stone without losing his own in the process.”
Ex nodded. “It’s all about protecting your own Anima Stone while your most capable individuals strike deep into the enemy lines to capture the opponent's revival point. Often times, such tasks are suicide missions. Trained squads are deployed who give it their all to get to their goal, even if it means reviving again and again.”
“They would rather die than be captured,” I concluded, seeing his point. “Killing them would only mean that they can try again and again until they run out of souls… which could take quite some time. It would be far better to subdue them to take them out of the battle permanently. Incidentally, capturing such individuals would likely mean that you have also taken the most capable individuals out of the equation.”
My tutor nodded. “Glad that you understand it. So, what would that mean for an enchanter who can make very effective disabling devices or ‘sticks of doom’?”
“A very valuable person who is showered with gifts…” I answered, and only spun the thought further once Ex’s cold insect eyes glared at me. “…and who likely isn’t allowed a single step without supervision.”
Well, that was a bummer. Luckily, the others had only seen the stick of doom which I had made from fae-wood with a carving knife and some gold-thread. I hadn’t even shown off my Staff of Ethereal Enlightenment, which I had based on my progenitor’s dagger by copying some of the spellwork. I had to make sure not to show off anything more capable than the stick. “Does that mean…”
Ex guessed my question. “No, things like the stick aren’t that rare. It has to touch the target which is a big weakness. Ebandon will still want to have at least a few dozen of them now that he knows that you can make them. I am just warning you to make sure that you don’t show him anything more advanced.”
“Thanks?” I replied questioningly, unsure why my tutor was doing this.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” he clarified. “I won’t ever push my hand into burning coals for you, but I would hate to see a capable student being locked up at an enchanter’s workbench.”
Ah, so he disliked the craft. I could live with that.
“And now… to your punishment,” Ex replied coldly. “You still have to survive thirty minutes in order to pass my class.”
“Why do I have a feeling that you will make it extra hard now?” I groaned inwardly, knowing very well that Ex had held back since the first day.