The two large black wagons rumbled to a halt. Ascelyn’s horse shifted and he tightened his grips on the reins as a massive black wolf suddenly appeared, jumping down into view from behind the second wagon. Two blood red eyes looked Ryner and Ascelyn over before settling on the horses with a hungry glint. His horse stamped again and Ryner’s shifted nervously.
The lead wagon driver stepped down from his wagon shooting a glance backwards at the wolf. “Come Bristras”. The wolf whimpered shaking it's head and both Ascelyn and Ryner winced at the unfamiliar language. The harsh sound of the unfamiliar tongue burned in Ascelyn’s ears leaving him with a slight headache.
The wolf padded towards the man keeping its gaze on the ground as it approached the lead wagon. Pushing back the gray cowl that covered his face a pale bald head glistened in the sun. The man turned and with waving hands began giving instruction to the ten similarly clad figures that now clustered around the lead wagon. Within seconds there was a flurry of activity. Five of them retuned to the second wagon pulling small digging instrument from it before heading towards the middle of the clearing. The rest began unloading large urns from the lead wagon placing them gently in small clusters alongside the wagon.
Ryner went tense as one of the gray clad figures approached the bald man, who stood surveying the activity, with a long object covered in red cloth across his arms. The figure removed the cloth and held the object out reverently to the man. Steel scraped on steel as Ryner’s sword let his sheath. He dismounted with a thud as the bald man lifted a pearl white staff in to view. Several feet taller than the man, the white staff was topped by a massive claw that clasped a jet black orb. The figure turned back to unloading the urns as the man began walking towards Ascelyn and Ryner the wolf falling into step at his heels.
“Stay” Ryner growled tossing his reins towards Ascelyn as he strode towards the approaching man his sword held at the ready.
Catching the reins Ascelyn jumped off his own horse. “What do you think you doing? Get back here you idiot.”
“I said Stay” Ryner growled as he continued forwards.” Let me handle this.”
Ascelyn watched in frustration as the two men neared each other neither showing signs of stopping. Ryner stopped first, several feet before the other man, dropping in to a crouch his sword held at the ready. “Leave your Weapons before you approach.” The bald man simply kept walking towards Ryner not giving him a second glance as he walked passed him. The black wolf however sat down next to Ryner, who still sat in his stance, keeping its eyes towards the ground.
“I believe what is in those wagons are for me?’ The bald man rasped as he approached Ascelyn.
Ascelyn looked the man up and down. Up close the dark gray cloak was in fact a light black with faint white symbols running up and down the length of it. Only at a distance did it turn a nondescript dark gray. Beside the staff clasped in his left hand, Ascelyn also noticed a small silver ring wrapped around the middle finger on each hand. A fresh looking scar curved up from under his chin running along the side of his face ending behind his ear. Probably the cause of his rasp. Ascelyn thought to himself as he stole a glance over the man’s shoulder at Ryner who still sat in his stance.
“That depends on who you are.”
The bald man looked Ascelyn up and down with a critical glance “I could very well ask you the same question. My deal was made with a man named Rontul. Not some fool running around in a cloak playing pretend in a Sentinel mask knock off.”
Ascelyn pulled off the mask revealing his frown. “Rontul, my father, died two weeks ago. As his heir all his prior dealings now rest on me, including this little excursion. I expect a little bit of respect. How do you know I am not a Sentinel?”
There was a raspy chuckle. “Respect is earned with power. You have very little from where I am standing and with what I’ve seen from your guard he is also sorely lacking. Is that not why I am here.” The bald man’s voice lowered to a hiss. “You may very well be Rontul’s heir but do not forget your place. Rontul and I considered each other equals but if you wish to reverse that I will be more than happy to oblige. I have no qualms ending another noble upstart who thought too highly of themselves." The man's voice returned to its normal rasp. "As for how I know you are not Sentinel’s, they always travel in groups of four and not one of them would be stupid enough to fight a mage of my caliber face to face.” The man’s staff tipped back over his shoulder toward Ryner ever so slightly. “As your guard is learning.”
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Ascelyn’s swallowed a lump in his throat and once again wished his father was still alive. Things were starting to spiral out of control. “I meant no disrespect, sir mage.” He apologized giving the man a slight bow “This is role is new to me. My father passed quickly and he was unable to go into great detail on his “Grand Plan” as he so called it. I have lived in the North for most of my life. Mages there are far and few between otherwise I would have recognized your esteemed position. Please forgive my rudeness.”
There was a hint of a smile on the man’s face. “You do have Rontul’s tongue, Now the Wagons.”
Ascelyn turned as he swung his arm pointing back towards the three wagons behind him. “The first wagon should hold the slabs of Manaite as well as the Rods of Dark Iron. The third the Chests of mana crystals and five mana cores of grade 2 or above.”
The bald man nodded in satisfaction his smile growing. “I assume the Second holds the artifacts from the ruins under the mountain?”
Ascelyn nodded. “It does. My name is Ascelyn by the way.”
“What of the drivers that delivered the Goods? I presume they took the horses with them when they left the wagons?”
Ascelyn nodded again. “I allowed the six of them to take the horses when they left with their payment. They also received a sizeable additional sum for their silence.”
The bald man frowned and with a snap of his fingers grabbed the black wolfs attention. Ascelyn’s hands covered his ears trying to block out the harsh sounds as he spoke. “Bristras, hunt six men leaving forest. Do not let them leave alive. Once finished return to previous task.” The wolf’s eyes gleamed and it turned becoming a streak of black and red as it raced towards the tree line vanishing instantly as soon as it hit the trees. The man turned back to Ascelyn seeing his pained expression. “It seems I must apologize as well. I forget that Infernal is hard on those with no experience in the tongues of magic. Seeing his confusion the mage continued his explanation as he walked towards the wagons as Ascelyn dropped the reins to the horses and hurried to keep up with the man's swift strides.
“There are some Languages not meant for human ears and are rather uncomfortable or unpleasent to listen to. Infernal is one of them as well as some rare Draconic Dialects. Celestial is also rumored to be one of them. Effects from heraing these languages can range from a common pain in the ear to stark raving madness, though the latter is only found in the extreme cases involving the most dangerous of creatures.”
“Than how can you speak this Infernal Language?”
The man smiled at Ascelyn‘s question “I couldn’t” He ran his finger along the scar on his neck. “But then someone was kind enough to teach me.” He stopped in front of the wagons and pounded his staff on the ground. Ryner collapsed behind him. “You may call me Alban. Please inform your guard that he is an idiot and that he looks utterly ridiculous in that Sentinel mask. Also at his age you would think him smarter. No Sentinel would even think of entering a warded clearing such as this without having some sort of back up.”
One of the grey clad figures digging in the center of the clearing suddenly collapsed to the ground screamed and withering in agony. One of Alban’s fingers tapped the end of the scar that sat at the hollow of his throat. “A Sentinel is responsible for this cut after all.” Glancing at the withering figure he smiled. “They are still wishing they were able to finish it.” With a snap of his fingers the robed figure stilled. It took several moments and the help of another of the robed ones before it was able to get to its feet and resume its previous work.
Alban turned back to the wagons and with a wave of his hand the ropes tying the covers down snapped as if slashed by a knife. Throwing the cover off the first wagon with a wave of his hand Alban exposed the Manaite, bright silvery bars crisscrossed with dark pink veins. Black rods of Dark Iron, the size of a man’s fist and as long as the length of wagon were stacked alongside the Manaite. Nodding in satisfaction Alban waved his hand over the materials which promptly vanished. With another flick of his wrist a small cylinder appeared in his palm which he tosses to Ascelyn.
“The details of my agreement with Rontul. I suggest you look it over.” He chuckled. “Though it’s a little late to change it you can familiarize yourself with the finer details. Before you do that however I would look to your guard. I would hate to teach him a more permanent lesson.” Alban turned to see Ryner storming over his sword still drawn a furious glint in his eyes.
“I believe that would be a good idea.” Walking back towards the horses Ascelyn moved to intercept Ryner.
“We start in less than a chime” Alban rasped as he walked away. “Make it quick. I will not be waiting for you.”