Chapter 11

After their weeks of training the time had come for the men to take the lift up to the highest peak of the many spires of Port Sept. On that peak was the residence of the Vicar Vairh. When their lift reached the end of its journey to the top most landing the men saw one of the greatest attractions of Port Sept, the Vicar Vairh Vasilica.

Roden couldn’t help, but kick himself for the ridiculous alliteration of the governing title, ruling family, and building until he remembered he wasn’t actually responsible for it. Miriana had said he didn’t create this world, so nothing here was actually his doing.

That realization nearly made him burst into laughter, but he knew it would make him look like a crazy person so he stifled it. Then he started to wonder how the hell he knew about it all then, but that line of thought made his head hurt. So he tucked that away for another day.

Roden couldn’t help, but be impressed by the massive building. The structure itself was built into the side of the massive spire as if the builders had sheared off the right half of the tip and plopped the stone structure down and nestled it up against the cliff they had created.

Roden knew it was actually a much more impressive feat that had brought about the construction of the Vasilica. He had written it such that the structure was created by the combined might of all of the churches of Port Sept as a show of gratitude to the Vairh family for giving them a place to establish their churches, and presumably for the lack of taxation of their donations.

Each clergy had contributed in a way that fit their God’s domains. The Otellians were the ones who had carved the spire down using powerful earth shaping magix. The resulting structure inhabited nearly the entire spire including a shaft that ran from the peak to the sea below.

The Ayians had used their magix to create a smaller version of the Great Geyser to supply water and create the beautiful waterfalls that poured out from the various terraces built into the cliffs. The entire spire was enchanted so heavily it was untouched by the Lich Orvell during the Dark Times as it was said undead were unable to set foot on the premises.

When they finished their ogling of the beautiful structure the men made their way to the main gate of the residential portion of the building as they were directed in their summons. When they approached the gate to the palace portion of the Vasilica complex they showed the guard at the gate their summons and were promptly led through the gate and into the home of the Vairh and his most trusted advisors.

The inner building was a testament to the wealth and success the Vairh had accumulated over the centuries they ruled over Vairhon. The men barely had enough time to take in all of the opulence as they were being led to the west wing or as it was labeled, The Wizard’s Wing.

Roden leaned over to Riakon and whispered, “these people and their alliteration.” He said it rolling his eyes.

Riakon just stared at him blankly.

Roden sighed, the joke lost in the meager vocabulary of the Dragonkin. But Roden couldn’t help, but take advantage of a teachable moment.

“Alliteration is what it is called when someone uses words in order with the same sound at the front of the word.”

Riakon blinked, “when would I ever need to know that?”

Roden’s language loving heart hadn’t recovered by the time they reached the door to the Court Mage’s chamber. He sulked as he sat on the incredibly soft leather couch in the sitting room the guard had left them in.

Riakon sat as well while Errrkkkk snooped around the room taking in the beautiful wood paneling and various works of art. Despite his defeated mood Roden eyed the bookshelf in the corner and started to stand to go pursue the shelves when the door on the opposite side of the room opened. A man dressed in floor length velvet robes, the color of the sea at night, stepped into view.

The man had a long white wizard’s beard and a hat that reminded Roden of the Sorting Hat from Harry Potter. There was no sign of hair beneath his hat and his hands were tucked in his sleeves. Roden suspected the man to be a human because of his advanced age, but one could never be too sure in this world.

The man spoke in a shaky voice weathered by time and use. It held an air of authority by virtue of the undeniable competence of its host.

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“Good day gentlemen, I am Yan Mikeln, Court Mage of Port Sept, Grand Mage of Vairhon, and Deputy Archmage of Mir.”

Roden didn’t have to feign his awe. The man was remarkable in presence and title. He also wasn’t the man Roden had written. At his table Roden had thrown together a simple non-player character who could serve as a quest giver or resource for the party if needed. The man in front of him was anything, but simple.

Riakon spoke up for the group, “good day to you sir. It is a pleasure for us to meet you. I am Riakon, this is my brother Errrkkkk, and this is our friend Roden.” He gestured to each man in turn.

Yan nodded to each man, “it is a pleasure to meet you as well. I have been eagerly awaiting this meeting ever since I heard about your contract.”

A bead of sweat trickled down Riakon’s cheek as he spoke in a hesitant voice, “which uhhh contract was the one you wanted to discuss?”

Yan withdrew a scroll from an inner pocket of his robes and unfurled it.

“I believe this was one of your first contracts as registered adventurers. It was originally a missing person investigation. Your report was that it was a necromancer who captured and…modified his victims.”

Riakon looked to his companions and nodded, “that does sound accurate.”

“Well a description of excellent work and a troubling situation that is not what I found interesting. It was what the necromancer found that was of great interest to me.”

“The table, cacaw!”

Yan nodded sagely, “exactly, the table in that cavern was a constructed magical tool that harnessed the power of a conflux of magi-meridians.”

“Sounds fancy, cacaw.”

“Quite fancy indeed. I called you boys here for two reasons.” He held up one finger, “First, I need you boys to agree to utter and complete secrecy on your previous contract and any contracts I grant you in the future.”

Yan eyed the men waiting. All three nodded vigorously so the mage continued.

“Second, I have a quest of a similar matter. I have a report of a new conflux manifesting and I would like to assign you lot to the quest given your dealings with an individual harnessing a conflux.”

“Does that mean you think someone is harnessing the conflux, cacaw?”

Yan pursed his lips, “I have a strong suspicion there is something there.”

Roden shared a look with the others and they all nodded in silent agreement.

“We will do it–” Riakon cut in,

“But we will have to negotiate reasonable compensation of course.”

Yan gave a small laugh and drew a small scroll from his sleeve. He handed it over to Riakon.

“Can’t imagine any negotiating will be necessary. The amount listed is for your continued silence about your contracts as well as for the quest I just described.”

Riakon unfurled the scroll revealing it to be a letter of withdrawal to the Vairhon Treasury. The amount listed was staggering. If Roden hadn’t been sitting he would have needed to sit down.

“You have a deal, cacaw.”

Yan smiled broadly, “good! I have everything you need here including a map to the island where the conflux is located. There is one condition. You may not charter a ship to the island as we must maintain complete secrecy on this. If an enemy were to gain control over a conflux so close to the mainland the consequences could be disastrous. I trust you can come up with a solution to that little hindrance.”

All three men nodded at once.

“Splendid! Then we have an accord. When you have completed your task send word via the Adventurer’s Outpost tell them the message is for ‘the gray wizard’. They will know what that means.”

The men walked in relative silence on their way back to the Silver Wind Inn. They agreed before leaving the Vicar Vairh Vasilica they wouldn’t discuss the mission while in public just to be safe.

Arriving back at their villa they immediately started making a plan. Their first item of business was travel. It was obvious Errrkkkk and Roden would be happy to fly from the mainland to the island. As much as Riakon wanted to fly, it wasn’t a feasible solution to their problem without spending an exorbitant amount of coin on potions and the risk that Riakon would get potion sick.

The last bit was news to Roden as potion sickness was not in the rules of the game he played. It made a lot of sense knowing what he knew about the world. A potion essentially forced the drinker’s magic reserves to first draw in more ambient magic and shunt it into whatever spell matrix was embedded within the potion.

The best option they had come up with was to have Riakon walk. Roden knew he should have a spell that would grant all of them the ability to walk on water, he just needed to go in and select it in the morning.

They wrapped up their planning and packed for their journey the following day.

The morning of their trip, Roden sat in the shower and entered his soul space. He walked among the wisps and released his hold on his Blooming Recovery spell, without a seed he couldn’t cast the spell anyway. It didn’t take Roden long to find the spell he wanted. He didn’t care which of his magic sources the spell slipped into as long as it didn’t change the target’s ability to walk on water.

The spell was drawn into his Adventure domain and revealed itself to him as a spell called Unbroken Path. All of the features of the spell were to his liking, it even had a feature that settled the liquid being traversed. Considering they were about to cross the open ocean, it was a much welcomed change to the spell.

Once everything was prepared the men stood before the lapping waves outside of their villa. They said their goodbyes to Miriana who wished them luck on their journey and naturally swore to secrecy, not that any of them were worried about her spoiling their contract. It was agreed that Grok and Branch would stay under Miriana’s care at the villa. Grok was nearly full grown by this point, but Riakon was not confident enough in his fighting abilities just yet to take part in dangerous contracts.

Roden stepped onto his cloud and rose just above the incoming waves. Errrkkkk soared high above as he was wont to do when they were no longer constrained by a city. Riakon begrudgingly trudged across the surface of the sea visibly annoyed by his lack of wings.

The journey from villa to island took the better part of a day. They made excellent time given none of them were particularly eager to stop. Roden had to refresh his spell on Riakon a few times throughout the day, but the spell was similar to his Resting Ward in that its spell matrix was compatible with being cast through a protracted ritual.

The process allowed the matrix to draw in ambient magic directly into the spell instead of it having to pass through Roden. Thus preserving his reserves in case their trip became more eventful than anticipated.

This was one of the rare moments since arriving on Mir that Roden had very little knowledge of what was to come. He wasn’t sure if things had changed dramatically, but from what he could remember he hadn’t sent the party on a mission to a remote island. That fact alone worried him greatly.