Forlorn Sorcery -- Fetterette & TattleTale

[TattleTale]

"Are you entirely sure you want to do this, my lord?" an older voice croaked in the deep, dark night. The words were slung away by the harsh winds whipping around them and his younger companion didn't seem to hear them. The man's eyes and mind were utterly focused on the turn in the road just up ahead. The duo stood in cover besides the road, nothing more than shadows.

"Sir, when whoever hired them find out their henchmen have been robbed, they will surely —"

An annoyed look shut down the nervous questions, but not a word had been wasted. The pair had have that discussion before, more than a few times even. Though the noble tried not to let it show, that prickled him. The fact that he somehow kept finding himself explaining his actions to his butler – what did that say about him? He was Nathan Ni'Cedolor, a lord, a duke, an Archmage, why did he feel the need to account to his servant like when he had been a boy? Shaking the troubling thoughts from his mind, the man trained his eyes on the road again. They were there for a purpose after all.

A few days ago word had reached Nathan about an interesting band of rogues. Supposedly the thugs were carrying a shipment pertaining to the Arcane from London to Manchester. The source, not a beacon of reliability in any case, wasn't exactly clear on what they were carrying precisely and for whom at that. However, two weeks ago the Spellstaff of Merlin, an ancient and powerful artifact had been sold at an underground auction in the city. A rag-tag group of outlaws would be the typical and discrete mode of transport for such a high profile item. Obviously Nathan now hoped to liberate the artifact in question.

From around the bend a single carriage with a surrounding squad of riders came forward. The lantern on the coach jostled around as they hobbled down the road and a leisurely pace. The riders were armed to the teeth with muskets and pistols. Only someone crazy would try to rob such an outfit…

The Archmage stepped up from the roadside, planting himself firmly in the middle of the road. Throwing up his arms and pointing his open palms at the approaching party, he started muttering under his breath. The first rider just barely noticed his shadowy presence, before a row of fire blasted from the mage's hands. The knaves heading the convoy were incinerated instantly, while the fire brought the other horses to rear in fear. Loud curses and shouts pierced through the dark. The driver couldn't control the span in front of the coach and it jerked from one side of the road to the other.

Where his first spell had been violent and rudimentary, Nathan's second cast was controlled and complicated. A heavy cloak of sleep slowly fell over the animals, bringing them to a peaceful stop only meters from where the mage stood. The transport ended up sliding down almost perpendicular to the road.

In the distance the thudding of galloping mounts faded away. At the other side of the carriage the door slammed open before quick footfalls headed into the woods surrounding the road. The remaining thugs had decided their life was worth more than whatever the payload they were carrying. A calm fell over the street again and then the magician, together with the other man, encroached.

"Spare me, Your Highness, spare a lowly soul like me. I was not party to this companionship. They forced me MiLord. I had no say in it, truly! You must believe me!" the driver cried out rambling as he fell to his knees almost straight from his seat. Ignoring his pleas and the man altogether, Nathan focused on his third spell. After a motion with his hand one side of the carriage blew wide open, the timber forcibly crashing into the dirt below. Sparse light spilled through the exposed area, barely illuminating a single figure sitting down. Heavy chains ran up from the bottom planks keeping that person in place at her hands and feet. Nothing hinted at any other goods. There were no chests, no bags and certainly wasn't any room for hidden spaces.

Nathan's temper flared. There was nothing of value there, nothing at all. His source had proven to be useless again. Unmoving, the assailant finally turned his attention to the driver, who looked so scared he might vomit.

"So, what the hell are you carrying?"

 

[Fetterette]

Until just the day before, everything had been going so very well. Cora had thought that she might face some difficulties making the rest of the journey to London after Ethan left her side. She had understood, of course, why he could not make the entire trip with her. Still, she had not entirely forgiven him for his part in the upheaval of her life. It still shocked her to think that she had ever desired to spend her life with such a weak and duplicitous man.

She had taken no small measure of pride in the fact that she was able to make it to London without his company. It had all cost a bit more than she had expected. Who could have imagined that private accommodations at inns could be so expensive? She had also received far less coin for the sale of her horse and tack when she arrived at the sprawling city. The stable master had been downright rude to her, and she had been tempted to find another. The excitement of getting to the School had been too great, though, so she had accepted his paltry offer.

None of that mattered, she had told herself. She had arrived on the doorstep of the School with more than enough coin to pay her way. She had been flying high in that moment. She would become a powerful sorceress. She would prove to her family just how wrong they had been to deny her the power of her birthright.

Nothing in Cora's life had prepared her for what followed. She had barely crossed the threshold into what the clerk had claimed would be her private chambers when she was struck by the magic. She had practiced using her sorcery here and there since the numbing of the horse that was going to trample Ethan. She had grown more accustomed to the feel of its power flowing through her body. She had never had it used on her before, and that was an entirely different experience.

Every muscle in her body had seemed to lock up at once. Any attempt at movement brought powerful cramps rushing through her. She could only stand still and stiff as rough hands had stripped the riding clothes from her body. In its place, they had dressed her trembling form in a rough spun, sleeveless chemise.

Sitting on the seat of a carriage, being trundled off to where she had no idea, Cora tried to push those memories away. She was grateful, at least, that the men who accompanied her now had not seen her naked as had those at the School. The men who accompanied her now were of a very rough sort, heavily armed and dangerous men the likes of which she had never before known.

Cora tried to pull away when the man seated next to her placed a calloused hand on the flesh of her bare thigh beneath the hem of the shift. The heavy manacles on her wrists and ankles, chained and bolted to the floor of the carriage, prevented her from escaping his touch. She turned to face him, eyes wide over the rough leather bit clenched between her teeth. The crooked, gap-toothed grin on the man's face sent a chill down her spine.

She had no idea where these men were taking her. The only clue she had about what was going on had been a whispered comment between two of the men who had carried her limp form at the School.

'How lucky for us? A Thompson pays us to not have to deal with a Thompson enrolling.'

Cora's chains rattled as the rough hand began to slowly move upward along her thigh. She pressed her legs together, eyes wide and trying to plead around the gag between her teeth.

Suddenly, everything around her became chaos. A blinding flash of fire lit the sky beyond the carriage, bright enough to be visible even through the drawn curtains. The horses screamed as the carriage came to a sudden halt, pressing her back into her seat. A man who had been seated across from her landed on Cora's lap. For a moment, she saw fear in his eyes that matched her own.

Within moments, the shackled girl found herself alone in the back of the carriage. The men who had been her escorts had fled through the door with panicked cries. There was no doubt in Cora's mind that they were not joining the decidedly brief fight outside. She could hear muffled voices from beyond the carriage, one of them high-pitched and pleading.

She pressed back into her seat when the wall across from her suddenly exploded. Instinctively, she tried to bring her hands up to shield her face, but they were brought up short by the chains. Fortunately, the debris seemed to be drawn away from her and back down to the ground outside. She squinted to see who was out there, the flickering light from the lantern on the outside of the wagon suddenly seeming far too bright in the darkness.

The question hung in the air. She tried to speak around the thick gag between her lips, struggling to make herself understood.

"Ghohkk... Uuuhhhttt... Oooo..."

 

[TattleTale]

The inarticulate, guttural sounds coming from the carriage didn't help the mage comprehend the situation any better. The driver, having frozen up entirely after seeing the side of his wagon blown off so violently, didn't say anything either. Taking a quick, aggressive step forward and raising his hand to signal he might obliterate the man if he did not comply.

"Speak, fool!" Nathan commanded ominously. The driver's eyes rolled up and he sacked unto the ground soft like pudding. The fear had simply became too much and had caused a faint. That man really was becoming more trouble than he was worth, but on the off-chance that he was innocent, the mage would allow him to live. That did pose the problem of him being a first-hand witness and having seen the lord's face. Luckily, Nathan knew how to make short work of memories like that. After heading over to the unconscious body and squatting down, he put his hand on the man's forehead. It took him a while, needing to be careful not to scramble his whole mind, but eventually the goal had been accomplished.

Finally, with an annoyed sigh, Nathan stepped towards the coach. Squinting he peered inside, looking at the creature so helplessly locked up. Now studying her a little better, more than at a distant glance, her fiery hair especially jumped out at him. His eyes slowly swept down her body, eventually following her exposed legs. The prisoner looked so completely vulnerable in that state. Obviously, judging by the heavy chains she hadn't come by her own volition. Why would someone have her taken away from the city in such secrecy though? Who could she be?

"Sire, might I suggest we evacuate these premises. Word might reach these brigand's employers sooner rather than later," the servant noted. Nathan tore his eyes away from the captive to nod affirmatively, admitting they should make haste.

"Drag that useless idiot into the grass there," Nathan replied curtly, pointing at the driver.

Returning focus on the woman, the mage contemplated on how to proceed. The Spellstaff certainly wasn't here, but the woman had to be of some relevance. If nothing else, he might just take her then. Was she worth attracting the ire of whoever had put her there, though? The lord didn't have time to find out by questioning her for they had to leave. It seemed he had to choose between taking her or leaving her entirely. Pulling himself up into the exposed carriage, he went straight for the chains. Grabbing the shackles at the woman's hands and feet one by one, he busted them open using the Arcane. Finally helping her take off the gag, he put a hand on one of her shoulders trying to impress the importance of what he was about to say.

"Come with me, if you wish to be free. We need to hurry for now, we can speak later," having said that, Lord Ni'cedolor unhanded his quarry. There wasn't even time for introductions yet. It also very much remained to be seen whether she would find freedom with the archmage. If she was of any value to him, she'd just have traded one captor for another. However, if it turned out she was of no particular meaning at all, she eventually would really find herself released whether she wanted or not. For now though, Nathan would play the savior and be a gentleman. Seeing her poor state of dress, he immediately took of an offered his own coat.

Jumping out the archmage quickly told his companion to wake, saddle and release the horses save but one. There was plenty of riding gear available on top of the carriage. Their own horses were up ahead, hidden away in the brush, but the young woman would need a mount for the trip back home. The Ni'cedolor estate lay a bit further back into the countryside. At this hour in the night, they'd most likely be able to reach the mansion without being spotted, if they stayed off the main roads. Before they could leave, they'd have to cover their tracks. Thje plan was to turn over the whole wagon on it's side and torch it, leaving little further evidence of what exactly went down here. Turning around, he held out his hand to guide the woman out of her prison.

"Let me help you," he said with a seemingly determined smile.