Ten minutes after his arrest Azrael was escorted by a small platoon’s worth of guards. With the prospect of escape uncertain he had been forced to submit to having a suppression collar put on him.
The collar suppressed his mana shaping abilities, preventing him from casting any magic, by disrupting his mana flow every time he drew upon mana. It was the equivalent of white noise while trying to find a perfect note.
So while he still had access to his mana, he was unable to guide and shape it without losing all control. He had to begrudgingly admit that it was a very effective system. Not infallible though. He was sure that with sufficient practice he would be able to remain in control of his mana, despite the disturbance. Unfortunately, he wasn’t at that level at the moment. The same tracking spell from earlier had also been recast on him. Not that it mattered. Between the twenty soldiers, the collar and Sophie there was little chance of escape.
Instead, he obediently followed his escort through the city, keeping his head up high as passer-by’s pointed at him and whispered to each other. The soldiers might have captured him, but he would escape…and get that pretzel. He looked over to the soldier who was carrying his ‘personal affect’ in a small bag borrowed from the café. His eyes narrowed slightly. He would get it.
In the meantime, he treated his walk through the city as a protected guided tour. He took in the sights that he’d missed when he’d been on the run. Even just looking at the unique shops and people’s get ups was entertaining. At least entertaining enough that he didn’t mind the handcuffs too much.
The escort ended up leading him down the main road from the west gate back to the plaza, where the chase had begun. Already a perimeter had been set around the statue, which had been hidden from sight by a large scaffold and cloth. Guards stood on the perimeter keeping curious onlookers back, while many white robed figures hurried around behind them. There was a fair bit of shouting and more than a few heads stared at him accusingly as he passed. He smirked and wished them luck with fixing the statue.
They escort walked right past the statue and entering the cathedral complex behind it. Azrael staggered in shock as they passed the front gate. Despite the white wrought iron gates being wide open he felt like he’d just walked into a suffocating film. The amount of mana from the wards imbued at the front gate caused his skin to prickle uncomfortably, but it was the divine energy suffusing the air that caused him to falter. It clung to him uncomfortably.
Purity’s presence was everywhere and it was stifling, to the point where he had a hard time breathing. In a lapse of concentration, the soul-ward he’d put up around his divine spark slipped, but he quickly fixed it. This was one of the last places he wanted a slip up.
He took a moment to admire the cathedral though. Up close it looked even grander than it had in the distance. And more ostentatious. Flawlessly white marble was carved with thousands of reliefs. Carved saints saved the people, while priests fed the hungry and holy warriors defeated powerful beasts. Above them all a deity – Purity, dressed in white and gold, extended her gentle hand down to her believer. Guards and massive statues both lined the outside of the cathedral, guarding it, while priests and other believers streamed in and out of the doors.
The guards pulled him away from the sight and led him to a cluster of buildings away from the cathedral. The pressure from Purity’s power diminished slightly, but never quite vanished.
Another effect of Purity’s energy that he noticed manifested itself in the absolute cleanliness of the compound. Buildings, walls, and even the cobblestone paths were all completely free of dust and dirt. Even his own rags seemed to lose some of their dustiness. The entire place was being cleansed through Purity’s power. Handy, he supposed, but bleach probably had much the same effect.
Finally, they arrived at their destination and entered what seemed to be a guard house. It definitely looked far more militarian than the church. Inside, a long corridor with cells set on either side ran off a main guard room. When they entered, most of the accompanying guards waited outside, while Sophie and the two patrol leaders continued to escort him.
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Briefly he considered escaping now, before another restriction was placed on him, but that seemed like simple folly. Forget about escaping Sophie and two guards while in a confined space with his magic sealed, he would also have to deal with the twenty guards outside, then everyone else in the compound and then finally have to escape the city itself. He resigned himself to getting imprisoned and let his captor’s words wash over him. It didn’t matter. All they were giving him was a bit more time to plan an escape.
In the end he was given a change of clothes – of a simple brown cloth – and placed into a cell with a bunk bed. One of the men said something to him, but Azrael let it fly over the top of his head. Sophie stayed silent, observing him. He ignored her as well.
A moment later a key clunked in a lock and several bolts rattled across the door. Azrael plonked himself into the bottom bunk. Plan A to escape the city hadn’t worked and plan B didn’t exist. It was time to work on a plan C,… after a nap that was.
It seemed that he had barely fallen asleep when he was woken again. The key turned in the lock and the bolts rattled before a figure was roughly shoved into the room. They stubbled in, as the door closed, and nearly fell over. A moment later they caught themselves and noticed him.
“Ah! A fellow companion?” They noted “Excellent.”
Azrael didn’t answer and took the moment to observe the newcomer. The person was obviously male, standing at height slightly taller than Azrael’s avatar. Azrael judged them to be around one-eighty-five. They were wearing the same prison issued clothes the guards had given Azrael, meaning that their only overly obvious defining feature was their dark-brown, almost black, hair which threatened to cover their right eye.
The person noticed Azrael’s lack of response and held out a hand.
“Alec, Tinkerer, inventor and Golemancer extraordinaire”
Azrael returned the handshake.
“Azrael” He introduced himself simply.
He took the moment to inspect Alec with [Lord’s Insight], the skill not hampered by the suppression collar.
Name: Alec
Class: Golemancer (Lv. 5), Enchanter (Lv.4), Tinkerer (Lv.6).
A quick check with [Soul Sense] confirmed that Alec was undoubtably a player, which caused Azrael some surprise. Alec was the first player that he’d seen that didn’t have at least one direct combat class.
“Golemancer?” Azrael asked curious.
Alec got a look on his face as Azrael asked him that. It was the same look a nine-year-old got when you asked them to describe their birthday presents.
“Ah. Golemancy is the art of making golems.”
“The clay dudes with EMETH written on them, or the mechanical kind?” Azrael asked, his curiosity winning out over his caution. He figured at least one other player had tried making one somewhere and he could just play off any suspicious questions as having overhearing a few ‘Chosen’ speaking. The idea of golemancy intrigued him though. He hadn’t even thought of that possibility.
There were quite a few different types of golems in games, ranging from the kind made from clay to those that were basically pilotless mechas. An alternative was also a summon type golem, though Azrael was unsure where you would summon a golem from.
Alec either didn’t notice or didn’t care that his audience had briefly lost himself in his thoughts.
“Neither” He pronounced enthused. “The golems I make are the most beautiful fusion of tech, magic and pure passion. They’re the cutting edge of a new science and one day we will rule the world!”
Azrael ignored the last part, having to clear his confusion.
“I thought technology didn’t work in the game?”
He mentally winced at his phrasing. That one was a little harder to play off.
“It doesn’t. Magitech on the other hand does.”
“Magitech?”
“Yeah. So, conventional methods of power such as gunpowder, electricity, nuclear fusion, and fission don’t work. Coal and steam still do. Why? Because mana interferes with the activation of higher energy levels at a microscopic level, but doesn’t interfere with physical mechanical components. The solution? Replace electricity with mana. Voila! Magitech. By using mana, I can substitute electricity. By using runes, I can substitute circuit boards. And by using mana cores I can substitute batteries!”
Azrael gave up on maintaining an NPC identity. The idea of magitech intrigued him. Afterall, he had his ‘rune library’, but hadn’t actually used it all that much. Magitech might be a new avenue to explore… if he ever got around to it.
“So, you build golems and power them with a core and a… runic processing unit?
“Pretty much.”
“So, you don’t summon spirits from the spirit planes to animate your golems” Azrael said in mock disappointment.
Alec looked at him for moment before suddenly pulling a notepad out from thin air. A charcoal pencil followed a moment later. The pencil moved and he began muttering questions to himself.
“Summon spirits… elemental? Elemental attacks?... Elemental resistances? Evolution? Sapience?”
Alec finished writing and the notepad and pencil vanished. He turned back, in time for Azrael to ask him a question.
“How do you feel about escaping?”