Zeptik had to admit the castle was nice for barbarians.
It was clean, making use of rudimentary charms to keep the stone flooring free of mud and debris and dampeners to absorb some of the sound. Opulently decorated and furnished, it favored a silver and green motif with boar iconography dotted every few dozen feet. Zeptik rolled his eyes as he imagined how clever and sophisticated some king or another must have felt for thinking to incorporate their heraldry into the decorating. The sconces on the walls were plentiful and magically luminous in a natural hue, which irritated the imp.
He could maintain his invisibility nearly indefinitely if he reduced the intensity to just above barely noticable and he did so. Rather than sneak he darted, in quick starts and stops while shooting suspicious glances in all directions. With this tested and true method he deftly wove through the unsurprisingly tired and confused looking patrols that now wandered sleepily through the corridors. He eavesdropped like some people skim a book, long ears twitching and swiveling greedily as he continued deeper into the structure.
“...just to wake up and report to the armory. The quartermaster wasn't even there, it was a total cl…”
“We're headed down to the gates. I don't know why don't ask me, I'm just as happy about it as…”
“...true they're powering up the defensive wards? I heard…”
The imp pounced through the legs of a man struggling under the weight of several shields and skidded up a flight of spiraling stairs to find an intersection beyond the exit. Pressing himself against the wall, he peeked out and glanced up and down the hallways before suppressing a cackle of glee as he found what he was looking for. He shot across the intervening distance like a rabbit, if rabbits could grin nastily and rub their hands together.
Two of the corridors led away and the last ended after twenty feet, a large metal circle embedded into the stone of the floor. Four brightly burning braziers framed the entire affair, making the gaudy runes carved into the floor around the metal ring glitter prettily. Zeptik simply could not contain himself as he muttered at volumes usually detectable only by bats and people with problems falling asleep.
“Oh the delicate, critically important infrastructure? Yes, just slap it down in the first tower you see. No, don't post any guards on it, that might annoy the people coming and going.”, he skittered and bounced around the entire contraption as he studied it while continuing his diatribe, “Make sure that you leave the entire sending and receiving sequence visible. Also draw attention to the entire thing somehow, I'm thinking fire. Mages love fire.”
He finally approached the circle and licked one of his fingers as he channeled energy into a claw. With swift and practiced strokes he made a few additions to the simple transport array, the runes sinking uniformly into the stone shortly after they were completed. The first would subtly mark anyone leaving through the gate, if you knew what to look for. The last was his own personal invention, and something he was quite proud of.
It consisted entirely of an incredibly efficient storage mechanism and an incredibly shit containment procedure. So shit in fact, that it would infallibly fail, sometimes sooner or sometimes later depending on how much energy you put into it. He bobbed happily as he crammed as much liquid flame into it as he judged necessary before giving the containing rune enough energy to function for the next 7 hours.
“Oh, and no passphrases or badges to activate it. Certainly no trespassers-clause in the sigil work, sending them straight to jail when they walk out the other side would be far too efficient.”, his rant finally coming to an end with his work, “You idiots never change. Hah!”
Hopping back to appreciate his work he fed a tendril of energy into the array and watched as it cycled up. Satisfied everything was both hidden and functional he stepped into the circle.
He barely surpressed a screech of surprise and rocketed into the air as forcefully as he could once the scenery resolved itself a heartbeat later. Gripping the stone ceiling with all four limbs he erred on the side of caution as he leered around the large crowded hall he now found himself in.
It was a stroke of luck that the large hall had a domed ceiling that was much closer to the floor at the edges of the room. In fact, if he didn't miss his guess, some middling-talent had simply expanded a huge bubble of air in a pool of lava as it cooled then leveled out the floor and smoothed some of the edges.
Racks on racks of weapons, shields, and armor filled the room in neatly ordered isles, complete with little carts on rails for easy transport to the gateways that dotted the room. Workers hurried about shouting to each other, shirts soaked in sweat as they shoveled armfuls of items into the carts and began hurriedly pushing them to their respective exits as transport circles flashed intermittently and carried their loads away.
Zeptik scrambled down the wall and jumped to an unoccupied cart. He balanced on the handle, tapping his nasty little toes thoughtfully. He’d never expected to find an armory this early in the night, but supplies were supplies and he only had two real jobs here; fuck a substantial amount of things up in as short an amount of time as possible then locate and mark this ‘King Angnar’ idiot. He was both an experienced and eager saboteur and he knew a good opportunity when he saw one.
As a disgruntled looking laborer rounded the corner with a large bundle of spears he allowed himself to flip downwards, hanging by his feet like a bat as the man loaded the cart while grumbling a particularly inventive string of curses involving his superior and something that Zeptik was sure was physically impossible. He silently added the phrase to his repertoire as he began to hex every piece of equipment he could point at quickly enough while the cart rolled through the aisles.
Armor and weapons shivered slightly as the hexes permeated the metal. Some affected the balance, some increased the item's weight just enough to be a problem. Others would cause armor to retain an unmanageable amount of heat, constantly loosen the straps, or unclip the buckles of the leather bindings used to secure them to the body.
The imp allowed himself to fall and tumble to the side as the sweaty man shifted his grip on the handlebar of the cart. Spinning deftly out of the way of several men running with quivers of arrows in their arms he scurried up the shelving and perched himself at the top.
“Ugh, okay fuck that.”, he grumbled to himself as he took a moment to really look around.
Workers still steamed to the other three circles within the room, largely ignoring the one Zeptik had entered from. It would take far too long to taint everything here at the rate he was moving. He fidgeted angrily but quickly puzzled it out. He’d corrupt the gates! Much simpler.
“Oh, yeah. That'll work!”, the shimmer in air grew more pronounced as he sacrificed stealth for pure speed and rocketed off the top of the shelving.
Touching down briefly he surged forward again, springing nimbly off of the tops of the shelving as he flew across the room drawing nearer to the exits being used to move all of the equipment. A few workers startled and shouted as he passed, but he was moving too fast for them to notice anything other than a surge of air.
“I don't CARE what Father says! Bring me my armor!”
Zeptik's ear latched onto the pretentious whining so firmly he almost crashed in his haste to hone in on it. A few moments later he located the source of the noise.
A small bottleneck had formed around a young man standing with what could only be a few of his cronies and three very uncomfortable looking personal guards wearing cloaks. He was a doughy thing, dressed in what was probably the latest in high fashion though it certainly did not flatter him. The man's arms were held petulantly by his sides as he thrust his chin forward, trying his best to look commanding. They confronted a tired looking man with the fakest placating smile Zeptik had ever seen.
“Sir, perhaps…”, one of his guards began before trailing off in defeat as he was fixed with a pompous stare.
The imp positively vibrated with excitement, he knew a spoiled prince when he saw one.
He quickly scrambled down the aisle shelving on all fours in his haste, the rough wood splintering under his claws as he gripped tightly. He soon reached the ground and began picking his way into the crowd of workers with carts steadily piling up as the loudmouth blocked the track with his body. Zeptik took careful note of the looks of pure frustration and disgust many of the laborers wore as they openly glared at the back of his head; clearly he was an unpopular figure.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
The plan was quick and dirty, a variation of something he'd once employed in similar circumstances. He was loath to pull the same trick twice, but he justified it to himself since everyone that had seen it was dead now anyway.
“…”, the tired looking man began monotonously, “Your father has commanded you to be evacuated with your mother and sisters. It is commendable you wish to defend us yourself but this is not up for debate.”
“Oh yes, something about an ‘Aura Imprint’? I don't see how one mage could possibly be a threat to us. Even Archmage Tenebri himself could not hope to breach these walls”, the prince settled his hands on his hips as he spoke, “I've never trusted Blackstone. He’s plotting something and Ill be here to stop him. Now. Bring. Me. MY-”
“Move it fatass! Real men have work to do!”, Zeptik suddenly bellowed in a near flawless imitation of a human voice before quickly scuttling away to a nearby location.
Even the carts in other lanes screeched to a near instantaneous halt as the Prince made a noise somewhere between utter shock and a goose drowning in pudding. He spun with impotent fury at the same time that every single laborer simultaneously began to look at each other in bewilderment.
“WHO SAID THAT?! YOU COURT DEATH SIR! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!”, the youth shrieked in outrage, a pudgy finger extended in promise of retribution.
“Ah’d court yer mistress but Ah can ne’er get to the whorehouse a’fore there's a line!”, the imp threw his voice again, this time adopting a lilting accent he’d once heard a man speak with.
The Prince's face went blank in shock as his mouth flopped open uselessly for a moment, even his extended finger visibly drooping as he failed to process the backtalk.
A man laughed loudly, a quick explosion of mirth that was physically smothered by both his hands as he clapped them to his mouth in horror.
“SEIZE HIM!”, the Prince howled in fury as he turned to his guards.
The largest, a dark skinned man with broad arms and shoulders, barely suppressed an eye roll as he began walking towards the terrified worker. Zeptik spotted him wink at the man and mouth the words, ‘I'm buying you an ale’ with the utmost cleverness to conceal it from the Prince. Zeptik frowned, he hated people benefitting from things by accident.
Preoccupied with this, he failed to notice his plan begin to backfire spectacularly as the other guards turned to watch the show. Zeptik saw far too late the luminous gold light shining from the iris of the elven guards' eyes as they locked onto him immediately, the famously huge elven pupils constricting to a pinpoint.
“Shit.”
The elf slammed mana through their eyes with practiced ease, a cone of brilliant gold annihilating all glamor in his vision.
“I fucking hate True Sight!”
Zeptik roared in a nasally voice as he channeled mana into his claws and traced a burning green circle in the air with a quick flip of his wrist. A lighting quick follow up gesture from the same claw, similar to unlocking a door, and the circle vanished. Fel energy suffused the Imp and he began to blur around the edges.
All hell broke loose immediately after.
“WHAT IS THAT, WHAT IS THAT, WHAT…”, screaming like a tea kettle the Prince was tackled by the only unoccupied guard, who promptly seized both the prince and a large medallion around his neck and vanished with a thump of air.
Cursing and shouting exploded out in a ring from their location as a panic started, men fleeing the hideous little demon that had been revealed by the elf’s ability. Within moments only Zeptik, the elf, and the large man remained. Zeptik silently cursed himself for allowing the man to walk past him as he glanced between the two guards blocking both ends of the isle, weapons now drawn.
The elf held a coiled whip in his right hand, his left slowly condensing mana into a tight marble of energy that concerned Zeptik slightly. The large man had begun to wave his hands through the air in repeating motions that led Zeptik to believe he was up to something nasty somehow. They both advanced slowly, obviously communicating silently with a spell of some kind.
“Just my fucking luck that the only ones with any talent were stuck guarding that turd of a prince” the imp glanced between them as he spoke, “This was supposed the be the easy way you know? I find His Imperial Stubbornness and we give him the opportunity to say no to Master's face without other people's lives on the line.”
The elf cocked his head to the side as his eyes seemed to zoom and refocus on the Imp every few moments in a way that always reminded Zeptik of birds.
“You speak quite well for a summon. I had heard that some familiars eventually learn to speak. If you also possess reason you will surrender, the gates have already been disabled.”, the whip uncoiled with an ominous hissing sound as the elf drew his arm back to strike, “Alric will have alerted the mages. You will be overwhelmed. Surrender.”
Zeptik’s eyebrow nearly shot off his face as he turned his back fully on the larger guard to regard the elf poised to strike at him.
“Seriously? You speak quite well for a summon? You asshole!”, he swelled in size slightly as he spoke, horns creeping out from his skull and beginning to curl back from his head, “Fuck it, let's do it the hard way.”
“Surrender.”, the elf repeated again as a portal began to form in the air behind him.
Zeptik launched himself towards the elf in a bounding four limbed charge, barely skimming above the ground as sparks exploded from the stone under his claws. The whip came in from the left, a masterful stroke that the elf skipped off the ground ahead of him. Zeptik sprang into the blow, rolling towards it on his shoulder. The thick mane of fur down his back yanked painfully for a moment as he cleared the attack by a whisper. He finished the roll and drove his right hand's shining claws into the stone, using the leverage to shift his momentum and throw himself through the air towards the elf’s weapon arm.
He tucked himself into a ball as he flew, the rebound attack from the whip missing him again as the elf frantically pulled back his arm and funneled more mana into the weapon to alter its trajectory. He flipped and rebounded off of the aisle shelving, rattling a rack of sabres violently as he sailed above the elf’s head towards the solidifying portal just as the first soldier began to emerge.
A needle-thin beam of fire flickered briefly from Zeptik's palm, the light fading quickly as a flash of lighting while the elf’s smoking arm sailed away from his body. His scream followed him to the floor as Zeptik blindly fired an almost liquid ball of emerald fire back down the track at where he assumed the last guard would be.
A sudden hammerblow of wind caught him in the air, smashing him towards the ceiling with surprising force. Zeptik shrieked angrily and exploded in response, the massive fireball deflecting several other attacks aimed for him. The shockwave hit the shelving a heartbeat later as they quaked violently and some of them began to topple into others, starting a chain reaction that collapsed half the room.
Zeptik rolled in the air, eyes wild with anger as cast out his senses and located the mage who felt the most strongly of wind in seconds. More and more soldiers had begun to emerge from the portal, forming neat and orderly lines as they fell into formation around several mages who stood with the gate at their back.
Gathering more and more mana, Zeptik activated layer after layer of runes as they began to glow with fel light all over his body. They crept out from his chest, spiraling down his torso and limbs, wrapping around his face and even climbing his horns in seconds. As he fell back towards the floor, he exploded again, this time directing the explosion away from the formation of enemies and propelling himself into them like a bullet.
The front rank shattered as he hit, two soldiers blown away bodily as their shields collapsed and arms shattered. He struck out with both hands, the needle-thin lances of energy firing in stuttering bursts rather than streams as he swept his claws away from his face in an arc. Soldiers fell instantly as their armor simply evaporated where the beams drilled neat holes straight through them.
He spun away from a blow meant to crush him and pounced onto the soldier closest to him even as they raised their weapon to attack. His tail lashed out, the force of the blow snapping the man's neck with a grisly noise. He leapt away as runes bloomed on the dead man's armor where he had touched. Zeptik detonated them manually while still airborn, the pillar of fire consuming a dozen soldiers as he once more used the shockwave to rocket himself forward while he rapidly compressed a truly unwise amount of mana.
The look of terror as the mages wind barrier blew apart under the force of his counter-spell was particularly satisfying to Zeptik as he flew directly at the man's face and unleashed the spell in his left hand.
_____________________________________
“I understand the principle of the thing, Master. I just don't agree with sending Zeptik. He’s too. . .Zeptik. Myself or Virax would have been better suited. Additionally he is the most fragile of us all, and I worry that he’ll-”, Mirriana continued to dog her position tirelessly.
Kallio felt she was secretly offended that she had not been chosen to undertake this ‘expedition’ as Zeptik had framed it.
“Mirri, either he will torment them so severely that they will surrender the Seed before dawn or I will flatten their wall, blow a hole in that farce of a fortification, and take it anyway. There’s absolutely no way it can go wrong, he made a very strong argument and I agreed.”, Kallio shrugged.
Mirri eyed him snottily as he spoke and it appeared as if she would continue when a deep rumbling explosion sounded in the distance, dust shaking down from the ceiling of the confiscated house as Kallio slowly closed his eyes and slouched over the table in exasperation as he pressed his hands to his forehead.
A moment later a second and third explosion were both heard and felt as Mirriana suddenly looked very smug.
“Virax, guard Leyla and this location. Kill anything that tries to get inside, do not leave the house. No limitations.”, Kallio snarled in frustration as he gripped his staff tightly in his right hand, stood up and fixed Mirriana with a baleful stare for several seconds.
A shadowy creature suddenly separated itself from the staff, all disjointed limbs composed entirely of abyssal blackness and the faint glitter of dying stars. It looked emaciated and elongated somehow and it hunched to fit inside the room before suddenly leaping into the corner of the ceiling and vanishing.
“We're leaving.”
Mirriana smiled even wider. The smugness was palpable.
“I'm not gonna say it.”