As Thorne and Varence neared the capital's entrance, their strained silence spoke volumes. Thorne's jaw clenched, his eyes darting between the sparse vendor carts and Varence, while the latter's shallow breaths and trembling hands betrayed his fear. The seemingly desolate city provided a stark contrast to the dark cloud hanging over the two men. Thorne's demeanor was cold and calculated, causing Varence's heart to race in fear. The cobblestone streets, just outside the capital, were lined with withered trees and abandoned market stalls, the city's lifelessness in stark contrast to the tense atmosphere surrounding the pair.
As they approached the imposing iron gates of the capital, Thorne abruptly halted and seized Varence's arm, swiftly guiding him into a nearby alleyway. "Don't even consider trying to get the guards' attention for help," Thorne warned, his voice firm and eyes filled with fatigue from days of unrelenting watchfulness. "I've been lenient with you so far; don't make me kill you or the guard."
Varence's voice wavered as he tried to respond, his facade of confidence crumbling under Thorne's intense gaze. "Y-yes, of course. Am I done after this? I only have a bit of time left before I need to return back to the village..."
"You're done when I say you're done," Thorne replied sharply. "If you've got a problem with that, I'd be better off killing you now!" Galen said, momentarily taking over Thorne's body, adding to the intimidation factor.
Thorne quickly regained control, covering his mouth in shock and embarrassment. Varence fell to the ground in terror, pleading for his life. "Calm down, I'm not going to kill you," Thorne said, his tone softening slightly. "Get up, you're making a scene."
Thorne turned to his trusted alter-ego, Galen, seeking his assistance in their important mission. "Galen, I need you to take over for a while," he said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "Keeping a constant eye on Varence has been taking its toll on me. It's my turn to rest and regenerate my mana." Galen, ever the confident one, replied without hesitation, "Of course, Thorne. You go ahead and take a much-needed break. I've managed to recover at least a quarter of my mana already, and I can take it from here. You go take your nap." Galen quickly calculated that he had enough mana to cast either one major spell or up to a dozen smaller ones.
Thorne nodded, grateful for Galen's help, and said, "I'll wake up in five hours."
As Thorne began to drift off, Galen spoke up once more. "I know I made some mistakes on our last mission," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "But I've learned from them, and I'm confident that I can handle Varence with ease."
Galen refused to watch Varence, leaving Thorne to do the tedious job of ensuring Varence didn't escape. However, Thorne understood that Galen's avoidance of the task was part of his master plan. "At least you'll get to have some fun," Thorne said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Bring him to the slave auction. He can fetch a decent price, and we can finally complete our side mission. I'll wake up after five hours. '' Thorne wasn't too bothered about taking a backseat for once, as he knew that Galen's scheming mind would likely result in some excitement down the line.
Thorne felt a sense of relief wash over him as Galen agreed to the side mission. He trusted Galen's capabilities and knew he would get the job done. As Thorne drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the thought of selling another human being. But he understood that it was necessary to complete their mission, and he was willing to do whatever it took to succeed.
As Galen took over, Thorne quickly turned around to avoid Varence seeing him with his eyes rolling back.
Varence slowly rose to his feet, dusting off his pants. "Let's just get this over with and I can be on my way. I have no intention of reporting you or causing any more trouble than necessary. I just want to finish this job and move on," he said in a calm, measured voice. However, Thorne couldn't shake the feeling that there was something Varence wasn't telling them. There was a hint of tension in his voice as if he was holding something back. Galen made a mental note to keep a closer eye on Varence in the future.
The walls of the capital loomed high above them, casting a shadow over Galen and Varence as they approached the entrance. The guards stationed there were heavily armed, their armor gleaming in the bright sunlight. With a cold, unyielding grip on Varence's arm, Galen silently warned him to behave, his steely gaze never leaving the other man's face.
As they neared the gate, Galen released his grip on Varence, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. The guard on duty eyed them suspiciously as they approached. "Papers," he barked, holding out his hand.
Varence fished something out of his pocket and handed it over to the guard, his hands shaking with fear. The guard studied the papers for a moment, then looked up at the two men standing before him.
The guard scrutinized the documents with a furrowed brow, his gaze darting suspiciously between Galen, Varence, and the paperwork in his hand. He seemed to take an unusually long time as if he was trying to find a flaw in the documents that would justify denying them entry. Galen and Varence shifted their weight nervously from foot to foot, exchanging uneasy glances as the seconds ticked by.
Finally, the guard muttered something under his breath and begrudgingly signaled to his colleagues to open the gates. As the heavy metal doors began to creak open, Galen and Varence shared a look of relief, but their hearts still pounded with adrenaline. They knew that the slightest mistake could spell disaster, and they had to be careful if they wanted to complete their mission without incident.
They stepped through the gates, and the bustling noise of the city hit them like a wave. The streets were crowded with people, merchants hawking their wares on every corner. The air was thick with the scents of cooking meat and spices, making Galen's stomach growl with hunger.
But Galen was focused on their mission, his pace quick and purposeful as he led Varence through the winding streets. Varence struggled to keep up, his legs feeling like lead weights. He couldn't shake the feeling that danger was lurking around every corner, that they were being watched
Varence couldn't help but feel a pang of regret as he followed Galen through the busy streets of the capital. He had been kidnapped and dragged into this mess, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make Thorne happy and secure his freedom. He couldn't help but wonder what Thorne had in store for him once he had completed his task, but he pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand.
As they wandered aimlessly through the city, Galen's frustration began to boil over. "We need to find that damn auction," he muttered through clenched teeth. "And fast. I'm sick of wandering around like a lost dog."
Varence hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Can I say something?" he asked tentatively.
Galen shot him a withering glance, but Varence pressed on. "I'm familiar with the capital," he said. "Maybe I can help you navigate and find whatever it is you're looking for faster."
Galen stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Did I ask for your opinion?" he spat. "Why would I trust anything you have to say, you useless fool?"
"Thorne, look, you brought me to the capital, and I thought that was all you wanted. But I'm still here with you. How long do you plan on keeping me as your prisoner? How about this: I'll do you one last favor by showing you around the capital, as a way of thanking you for not killing me. Besides, we're out in public, and I could probably escape easily by crying out for help," Varence suggested, his newfound boldness evident.
Galen pondered Varence's proposal, thinking, "He doesn't appear to be hiding anything, and he sounds sincere. This might be the perfect opportunity to find all the other locations I need for the mission without drawing attention to myself by asking around. I'm not a fan of making decisions like this, but what other choice do I have? Once I'm done with him, I can see his horrified expression when I take him to the slave auction before knocking him out!" Galen finished the thought excitedly with a sly grin. Then, he spoke aloud, "Alright, Varence, we have a deal. But keep in mind, if you try any funny business, I won't hesitate to knock you out, even in public. Got it?"
Varence frowned but nodded in agreement. "I understand, but you don't have to be such a jerk about it, you know," he retorted, irritation clear in his voice.
Varence, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, guided Galen through the lively capital. The city was a kaleidoscope of extraordinary beings, including elegant elves, enigmatic demons, verdant plant men, hardy dwarves, and a diverse assortment of other fantastical races. The streets showcased a harmony of intricate architecture and lush gardens, while skillful street performers captivated the attention of passersby. The air was saturated with the mouthwatering aroma of exotic dishes from nearby food stalls, blending seamlessly with the intoxicating perfume of blossoming flowers.
As they approached the grand royal armory, Varence exclaimed with theatrical flair, "Behold the splendor of the royal armory! If something piques your interest, don't hesitate to let me know, and we shall explore it further!" Hidden beneath his exuberant performance, Varence was secretly sending out a silent plea for someone, anyone, to help divert Galen's attention. Unfortunately for him, his flamboyant mannerisms went unnoticed as a genuine cry for help.
Galen, thoroughly enjoying Varence's antics, couldn't help but chuckle. "You certainly know how to make this tour memorable, Varence!" he said, clapping his companion on the back.
Their journey continued, meandering through the city's winding streets and bustling marketplaces. The sights, sounds, and smells of the capital were truly an experience unlike any other, and Galen found himself swept up in the city's vibrant atmosphere, oblivious to Varence's hidden distress.
As they strolled through the vibrant city streets, they were surrounded by laughter, music, and the intoxicating aroma of exotic spices. The joyous cacophony was occasionally interrupted by the plaintive cries of beggars, a stark reminder of the city's less fortunate inhabitants.
In a moment of unforeseen gratitude, Galen was struck with an exciting proposal. "Let's drop by that tavern over yonder," he declared, deftly balancing on the arm of a disheveled vagabond sprawled across the cobblestones. The man howled in agony as his arm bore the brunt of Galen's weight. "It's only fair I treat you to a tantalizing libation before our paths diverge."
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Varence, eyebrows arching in amazement, shot back a mischievous grin, "Well, I'll be damned! Our stoic Thorne harbors a heart beneath that tough exterior!" He skillfully sidestepped the writhing vagabond, trailing his comrade into the dimly lit, enigmatic tavern.
The atmosphere inside the tavern was charged with the scent of ale and boisterous laughter. Galen and Varence clinked their mugs, the froth spilling over the rims, as they couldn't resist eavesdropping on a nearby conversation. A battle-hardened soldier, clearly intoxicated, was regaling his comrades with tales of misery. "I've hauled my battered body back to the kingdom 'cause they won't stop bombarding us with warnings about some supposed invasion," he slurred. "We've been at peace for a century! This whole charade is nothing but a farce meant to keep us leashed!"
Varence and Galen exchanged smirks, amused by the soldier's drunken tirade.
As they ordered another round, they caught wind of a conversation about the king's daughter's unsavory reputation. "I don't recall the capital being this degenerate, but it has been a few years..." Varence mused.
"Alright, quit the bullshit, Varence," Galen interjected, a wicked smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I've got something important to tell you." Varence looked at him, puzzled. "I can't pay for these drinks." Varence chuckled and replied, "No worries, think of it as my parting gift. Farewell and safe travels, Thorne." Galen's grin morphed into a scowl. "I've got some even worse news," he said. Varence's face mirrored his, waiting for Galen to continue. "I need you for one last job, and I swear on the demigods that you're free after this," Galen stated firmly.
Varence sighed dramatically, "Just end my misery now and be quick about it."
After exiting the tavern, Galen and Varence meandered through the animated city streets for half an hour. Galen grumbled incessantly, unable to locate what he desperately sought. Varence noticed Galen's gaze fixated on yet another tavern sign that advertised "Molick's Tavern"—a haven known for its exotic elixirs and shadowy clientele. The key difference visually between this and the first tavern was that it seemed to look a bit run down on the outside with some areas needing obvious repair.
Sensing an opportunity to slip away, Varence stealthily initiated an ice spell, intending to glide away from Galen's grasp. He whispered, "ICE SHE–," but before he could complete the incantation, Galen was hot on his heels. In an instant, Galen incapacitated Varence with a lightning-quick, brutal strike. Varence's vision swam, and he crumpled to the cobblestones, his head throbbing with pain as he succumbed to unconsciousness.
Galen sighed in frustration as he stood over Varence's unconscious body. "I can't believe I let my guard down like that. But why didn't I sense him charging the spell? Good thing I caught on just in time." He tried to catch his breath and steady himself.
Their scuffle had drawn a crowd of curious onlookers, their eyes wide with interest and concern. Galen muttered to himself, "This really didn't go the way I thought it would. I assumed he was all bark and no bite." Desperate to defuse the situation, he raised his voice, addressing the crowd, "Hey, everyone, there's no need to worry! We're just actors rehearsing for a play."
Despite his attempt at reassurance, the onlookers remained skeptical, their expressions a mix of disbelief and wariness.
Galen recognized that he had made a grave error by attacking Varence in broad daylight, but he had no alternative. As the crowd swelled, driven by curiosity, Galen knew they needed to escape quickly. Simply fleeing wasn't an option; they had to blend in and slip away undetected.
The atmosphere grew tense as the restless crowd buzzed with energy. Galen's heart thudded against his ribcage, almost choking him with its intensity. Time was running out, and he knew it. Desperately scanning the area, he searched for an escape route, but the narrow, labyrinthine streets offered little refuge. They were cornered like rats, with no clear path to freedom.
For a moment, Galen considered abandoning Varence and making a run for it alone. But something held him back. He knew that if he screwed up too much, Thorne would punish him by not letting him have control for a while. Thorne was always such a baby when it came to killing people, but Galen reveled in the opportunity to vanquish his enemies, or anyone really. He loved the rush of power that came with taking someone's life and he wasn't about to let it go to waste.
Galen quickly slung his prisoner over his shoulder and started to walk away as fast as he could. He hoped the guards would be preoccupied with other matters, not noticing them as they slipped away. Galen knew that time was of the essence and that every second counted. His pulse raced wildly as he attempted to maintain a sense of calm and focus. He kept his eyes straight ahead, hoping to avoid drawing any further unwanted attention. But just as he was about to round the corner, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
With a racing heart, Galen blended his arcane and blood magic, the latter requiring the use of his life force instead of mana, to unleash a potent spell that would increase his chances of escaping from the guards who were most likely in pursuit.
But when he turned around, he was surprised to see a warrior mercenary with a tattooed insignia on his left arm. Though his initial reaction was to distrust the stranger, as he was actively suppressing his power to avoid detection, Galen found himself somewhat reassured by the man's composed and collected demeanor. "Hey there, friend. You're causing quite a ruckus. Why don't you come with me to the tavern?" the warrior said, his voice low and steady. " Galen was hesitant at first, but he knew that the guards would be there any minute. He had to make a choice. "I'd love to, but I don't know who you are," Galen replied cautiously. The warrior smiled, unfazed by Galen's suspicion. "Look, you're going to have to deal with the guards or take your chances with me. It's a pretty obvious choice, considering your predicament," he said matter-of-factly.
Galen remained unconvinced, swiftly pulling his shoulder away from the warrior, his suspicions growing. "Look, I understand your hesitance to trust a stranger, but I have valuable information that could benefit you too. I can sense you're on a mission by the way you carry yourself. Allow my colleagues and I to offer our assistance."
Galen shook his head in disbelief but eventually conceded as he sensed the guards approaching. He followed the warrior toward the back of the tavern. The warrior revealed a hidden staircase leading to the basement, and Galen started to walk down the stairs with Varence still slung over his shoulder. The warrior followed closely behind, securing the hatch with a heavy iron bar. "As they descended the staircase, the dim light from above gradually receded, enveloping them in darkness. A fleeting sense of relief washed over Galen as the cool, damp air embraced him, and the faint scent of mold filled his nostrils." However, this relief was short-lived; a sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. The nagging suspicion that they were walking into a trap refused to leave him. Clutching Varence more tightly, Galen steeled himself for whatever might come their way. Who was this warrior, and why was he helping them? Galen vowed to remain vigilant, prepared for anything that might unfold next.
As Galen and the warrior continued their descent down the narrow, dimly-lit staircase, the oppressive scent of dampness and mold filled the air, mingling with the distant sound of water dripping from the moss-covered walls. The sound of their boots echoed off the stone walls, casting an eerie ambiance around them. His chest tightened with anxiety as he attempted to maintain his composure. Unsure of their destination or who they might encounter, Galen's apprehension grew. Yet, as they rounded a corner, they were met with the sight of several robed figures illuminated by flickering candlelight.
"One of the mages here sensed a mage about to cast a spell before he was cut off. It's rare to find a rogue mage in the capital city, let alone flaunting like that, so we put two and two together after he got knocked out," the warrior explained to the group. Galen tried to stay calm and collected, but he knew that he was in a dangerous situation. The mages could be friend or foe, and Galen wasn't sure which.
After they finished their chant, a dark-robed figure spoke up and said, "We're interested in acquiring your mage. What do you think would be a fair price?" Galen felt a mixture of relief and apprehension. He had never been in a situation like this before, and he had no idea what his prisoner was worth. "I would like 500 gold pieces," Galen proudly stated without hesitation. But his pride was short-lived.
Everyone, including the warrior, sat in silence until another dark-robed figure spoke up, "There's no way we're spending 500 gold pieces on that mage. Are you some kind of imbecile? We'll give you 30 gold pieces, and that's being awfully generous. Look, you either accept the offer or become the offer." Galen felt a wave of panic wash over him as he realized he had no experience in haggling or negotiation. His inexperience in such situations left him feeling vulnerable and exposed, unsure of how to proceed. He regretted not paying closer attention during the slave auctions he had once attended, but the sheer monotony of those events had been unbearable.
Galen cursed himself for allowing Thorne to slip into a meditative slumber, realizing that the side quest had veered far beyond his realm of expertise. "HELLO, IS ANYONE THERE? We didn't think we'd be dealing with such a fool. Our patience is wearing thin. Will you accept our offer or not? Make a decision within 10 seconds, or we'll choose for you," the dark-robed figure demanded, his face contorted in a scowl.
Galen's heart raced as the seconds ticked by, the weight of the room's hostile energy bearing down on him. He considered his options, but with his limited energy and the unknown capabilities of his captors, he saw no other choice. 'Fine, I'll take the 30 gold pieces,' he acquiesced with a resigned sigh.
"Oh, I'm sorry, but I've had a change of heart," the mage sneered, his grin sly and malicious. "Did you truly believe you'd still receive payment after proposing that absurd price, only to exacerbate your insolence by ignoring us? Laughable! No, you two will become our slaves now. That was our original intention, anyway."
The mage's eyes gleamed wickedly as he continued, "Stumbling upon two unsanctioned mages out in the open is like a dream come true for us slave traders. The king will be none the wiser, and we'll profit handsomely from your capture." As the words left his lips, the mage traced intricate patterns in the air, preparing a sinister spell to bind Galen and Thorne to their will. Galen's mind raced, searching for a way to escape their dire predicament, as the shadows of their captors loomed ominously overhead.
"It was truly delightful to watch hope extinguish in your eyes just before I torture you," the dark mage taunted, his voice laden with sadistic glee as a manic glint overtook his eyes. The other figures in the room advanced menacingly toward Galen, their faces twisted with malevolence as they chanted spells in unison. Even the warrior from before unsheathed his sword, brandishing it threateningly.
With desperation fueling his actions, Galen concentrated on channeling his remaining mana into a potent arcane explosion. Despite his efforts, Galen realized he wouldn't be able to cast his spell in time. Just as he was about to be struck down, a loud shout pierced the air: "ICE EXPLOSION!!!" The entire tavern crumbled around them, burying the slave traders beneath the debris.
Slave traders were the lowest of the low, and this group was no exception. Fortunately for Galen, Varence had been quietly charging the ice explosion spell while slung over his shoulder, facing away from the enemy. The means by which the ostensibly low-level elementalist managed to charge the spell unnoticed, without detection of his power, and subsequently shield Galen with an ice barrier remained a mystery. Perhaps there was more to Varence than met the eye. Unfortunately, Varence was completely spent, and as Galen hoisted him over his shoulder, he sprinted in a random direction, desperate to escape the imminent danger.
Galen had an epiphany as he ran- the mages had detected his enchanting magic, but they had failed to sense Varence's ice sheet spell during their first encounter with the warrior.
As Galen caught his breath in the alley, he muttered under his breath, "I didn't expect that from you, Varence. Maybe there's more to you than I thought." Varence, still visibly exhausted, managed a weak smile in response to Galen's comment. "Glad I could surprise you, Thorne. But we should focus on getting out of here before we're discovered," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Galen knew that if they were caught, they would be executed for the deaths they caused at the tavern. He couldn't let that happen, and he needed to act quickly. "We can't just stand here and wait to be caught," he said, his voice firm and determined. "We need a plan."
He focused his senses, trying to determine how many life forms were in the area. "There are a lot of people heading our way," he said, his tone urgent. "We need to move now."
Varence nodded in agreement. "There's a gate not too far from here. Most of the guards should have left their posts to investigate the explosion. We need to head there quickly," he said, his expression weary.