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Tarak Tales: Into The Unknown

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M

Mr Master

Pulsar
Joined
Jan 26, 2009
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Right behind you... you smell nice, by the way...
It was monthly Research Review time, and Cersei's least liked superior, Guild Wizard Abydon Fallmorik, had been assigned to her.

The Guild had expectations of its members. They were available for hire for whatever jobs they chose, and the Guild expected a standard percentage of any fees exacted. However, if they used Guild facilities, such as residences and libraries, they were expected to contribute to the Guild in other means, too. That included both chores (distributed widely, as most of the drudgery was handled by Forged, so no one's chore load was particularly difficult) and, most often, research. Low-to-Mid-level Wizards were the grad students of the Guild, doing all the academic work and teaching the youngsters, and there were monthly evaluations on the academic research, just to see that everyone was on track.

Fallmorik, on the other hand, was nobody's favorite supervisor. He had risen as high as he was likely to go within the Guild hierarchy, and he wasn't pleased about that. Popular opinion was he took it out on those Wizards who had the poor luck to fall under his critical eye, whether they deserved it or not. It was impossible to get a positive comment from the man; the best one could do would be a grudging, backhanded "it's not completely horrible" sort of comment.

So when he came to look over Cersei's spell research for the month, he was the worst possible person coming to visit at the worst possible time for her, emotionally. After a brusque greeting that was more of a bare acknowledgement than an actual greeting, he demanded her notes and diagrams, and then spent about an hour examining them silently, a sour look on his face.
 
Cersei, although not surprised, was still taking it hard. She dreaded what was to come, especially now after the disaster that their last mission was. She was emotionally unstable, ready to fly off the handle at the slightest provocation, but she had to try her best to keep calm. Her material was crappy at best right now, all of the missions coupled with minor goofing off and lack of motivation cutting in to her research time. For the entire time, her eyes were locked on her feet as she looked down in shame. Simple new spell combinations, focusing on one she had come up with in the mines that she called spontaneous combustion. It was nothing outstanding less than a shadow of what she could come up with were she in her best form.

Her fearful gaze shifted to her bed, where she had hidden her jeweled sword. Terrible thoughts were jolting through her head, but she tried to rationalize them as they passed through her synapses by saying that she would only hit him with the flat of the blade, or just knock him out, or give him something less than a mortal wound. It didn't matter, it was still all bad. Finally managing to look up at him, she let out a stuttering whine that barely passed as speech. "W-what do you think?"
 
"I think..." he said absently, "this is the shoddiest work I've seen all day. Your one saving grace, the explosive spell, lacks precision of description and any sort of statistical incidence of error." He tisked, his face puckering like a prune as his eyes scanned her notes and diagrams. "Honestly, I have no idea why they don't just farm you out to the construction teams full time. There's only so much you cam muck up reshaping a tunnel in the Warrens; seems like you're just wasting your time up here, anyway. And mine."

As he got done with papers, he didn't fling them in the wastebasket, but the contemptuous flip he gave them seemed to give the equivalent impression. This wasn't any different from any other time he'd evaluated her work, or from any other time he evaluated anyone's work, but Cersei's recent stress and her knowledge of this month's research's shortcomings... it was a bad combination, and he wasn't making it any better.
 
She knew that insults were par for the course with this man, in fact she had heard all of this before even on her best work. It was getting to her this time, though. Her fists clenched in anger as the supervisor badmouthed her work. She wanted so badly to just run him through with her sword, but that would cause too many problems. Instead, she had something far more ironic planned for him. As he was turned away from her, she didn't bother trying to explain why her work was worse than usual after he was done 'criticizing' her work. Instead she stood up and gently placed her hand on his back between the shoulder blades. "Perhaps you need a demonstration of my work then?" She said as magical force gathered in her hand. "After experiencing it first hand, you'll never badmouth me again!" The magic gathered, focused, and was released. Hopefully she had proper control of it under her stress, she needed just the right amount of force, not too strong, but not too weak, and only a concussive force rather than flames so she wouldn't burn the place down.
 
Fallmorik was so absorbed in his review, he barely noticed her hand on his back. "What was that, Carnivale?" he said, just as she released her spell.

The noise of the explosion blasted through the chamber, making Cersei's ears ring. The old wizard went flying forward, his robes coming apart, blood and flesh spraying back over her and everything. The table he sat at skidded and hit the wall, and he lurched half up on top of it, the white bone of his spine and ribs showing bright in the room's gemlight. Blood gushed out over the table, her crappy notes, everything.

Noises in the hall; the sound was clearly heard all up and down this section of the Guildhouse, and people were coming to investigate.
 
Cersei stared at Fallmorik's broken body in horror. She saw the sleeve of her robe and the back of her hand was covered in blood, but when she looked at her palm, she saw it was clean as it had been before she unleashed her spell. She began shaking in fear, unable to regain her composure until she heard the footsteps in the hall. She had a to cast a quick spell to hide the blood on her so she could leave without raising too much attention to herself in particular. After taking a second to cast her Image masking spell, she took the sword from under her bed and ran out to the entrance of the guild hall. "Shit shit shit shit shit" she mumbled to herself as she ran, holding the weapon's scabbard in her hand. She didn't know where to go next, there was nowhere to go except out of the city, and she didn't even know if there really was a way out to begin with.
 
As she left, some of her fellow wizards asked her "What was that? What's going on?" but she pushed right past them.

As she left the Guild hall entrance, she was out on the top level, into the Park. There were always crowds in the Park, and many wizards. And the Spiral topped out in the Park; she could always duck down there if she wanted to get out. The midday sun was hot, but a breeze was blowing nicely, and everybody seemed to be having a good time, but only Cersei could see the blood coating her hands and clothing, only she could feel it dotting her face.

She could hide in the Warrens, or she could make it to one of the gates and get outside. But what could she do there? She knew how to survive, she'd studied that extensively, but to what purpose? What could she do? Was her life effectively over, because of this moment of rashness, this miscalculation?
 
Cersei tried to calm herself down. She was still shaken up from what she had done, and would be for a long time, but for now they still don't know it was her and she had to take advantage of that. She sat down on a bench to think about what to do next, closing her eyes to focus. She could still feel the blood on her skin and clothes, but she blocked it out. Instead she only thought of the outside. Bleak and desolate, but most likely her only option now. She could survive, she had studied the outside for years, making her the most experienced out of anyone in the city for something like that. All she needed was a way to get out.
 
After she had gone, there had been a flurry of activity, with the nearby wizards attempting to deal with the situation. Two runners were sent out: one to the medical office, the other to the tracking office. In the bright sunlight, and with her mind occupied with other things, it was perfectly natural for Cersei to miss her amulet's gems suddenly blink, and then glow a dim, steady light against her chest.

Thus it was that within fifteen minutes of the incident, the City Guard was notified, and the Gates and the Spiral were under watch, and a pair of armed and armored wizards, both experienced in battle magic, wandered through the park, being guided by wizards back in the Guild house.

The community of Guild wizards, even in such a large metropolis as Tarak, is not so large that anybody can be a stranger. So both of the mages knew who Cersei was; the one manning the Communication Cups had even been in several of her classes growing up. It also meant they couldn't be wholly impartial; after all, who among them had NOT wanted to do exactly that to Fallmorik at one time or another? So when they spotted her on the park bench, they sighed regretfully, looked at one another, and then closed with her.

"Cersei," the older one said, drawing her attention out of her thoughtful reverie. He held up his hands peaceably, and his tone and expression were sober and serious, but not unfriendly. "Nobody's going to attack you. But we have to ask you to come back with us and answer some questions. You know we have to."

Behind him and a few steps to one side, his partner and Cersei's former classmate silently performed a Sensorics spell, penetrating the masking illusion and revealing to his sight the bloodstains. He sighed sadly and shook his head, yet did not take his eyes off her. He was sympathetic, but not stupid.
 
Cersei didn't look up at him, nor did she move right away when she was asked to. "I don't know what to do." She said through held back sobs. "I'm ruined. Who the hell made that bastard an evaluation supervisor?" Her concentration broke when she finally started crying openly, causing her image masking to waver and finally dispel. Her tears ran down her face, making streaks in the half-dried blood. "I c-can't go. Please, you have to leave me alone." Despite her protests that came out more as a reflex than actual intention, she stood up from the bench and held out her hands. Cersei wasn't sure how the procedure went, having never been arrested or even seen anyone get arrested.
 
The older mage, Hannar, just stepped up to her and took her by her right bicep, not even holding her particularly tightly. He had some incapacitating magic at the ready, of course, but he didn't really expect her to try and fight or flee at this point. "Just relax. We can walk together." He sighed, and started to steer her back toward the Guild House. "I know what you mean about Fallmorik; he's the worst person for that job. But the Guild isn't so large that we can afford to be picky." He paused, and continued more conversationally. "And that also means you're not finished, either. We can't afford to lose a wizard, really. But... I won't lie, there's going to be consequences. But you'll make it through," he said reassuringly, squeezing her arm like a friend would -- but not letting go, of course, because she was still in custody.

The younger man, Cersei's former classmate, Avon, spoke up, still listening to the Communication Cups as he followed. "They say Fallmorik is going to recover." They also said he might be crippled for the rest of his life, and need pain relief the whole time, maybe, but Avon didn't share that tidbit.

"There, you see?" Hannar said softly. "It's not like you killed anyone. You'll have to atone for losing control like that, but that's doable. I've seen worse on this job; I've seen a rogue come back into the fold. If they'll allow that, they'll figure something out for you."

Avon piped up in a confused voice. "Are you talking about Old Nagel who sweeps up in the labs? I thought he was under a geas... Oh, sorry," he finished lamely as Hannar gave him a sharp look.

Hannar wasn't lying, but he also wasn't as hopeful as he sounded. There were a lot of variables, and the conditions for Cersei "making it through" were very broad, and she might not like all the options. A lot depended on how the victim reacted, and what they demanded, and Fallmorik probably wasn't going to be easy to appease. Hannar just wanted to get the girl safely to the warded, magic-dampening holding cells; then she'd be safe, everyone else would relax, and they could all try and figure out a solution to this mess.
 
Cersei cursed under her breath when Avon said that Fallmorik would recover. She knew that what she did was terrible and she hated herself for it, but the more what she did sunk in, the more she realized how much she really meant to kill him. There would be no way Fallmorik would go easy on her once it came to trial, unless of course his near-death experience caused him to have some sort of epiphony. It was unfortunate that things like that only happened in stories.

She said nothing more as they continued on, not protesting or resisting even when they put her in the magic-dampening cell. Once she was there, Cersei finally spoke up, but not for anything one would really deem as significant. "Hey, I just have one favor to ask if you can." She said, directing her question at Avon. "Is there going to be a point some time where I can wash up, and change into a new set of robes? Th-the blood is starting to dry and it's cold."
 
The chamber was much like any of the other dormitory bedroom chambers, but for the runes and sigils etched into the walls, and the double doors; a normal wooden door that swung inward, and an iron-barred door with a gap in the middle for passing things through that swung outward. The wizard on guard duty pointed to the pitcher and basin on the stand in the corner, over the chamberpot. "Washing up. I'll go get you a change in robes. When I get back, I can take your dirty water." She left the area, and Hannar and Avon looked through the bars, looking mostly sympathetic. They were the only ones who had seen how broken up she had been when they found her, so they were the only ones who realized how much she was affected by it all.

"You get cleaned up, have a rest," Hannar said calmly. "Nothing to do now but wait. The investigators will have a talk, and I'm sure the Justices will work with you to find a resolution." He moved to go, and then paused. "Hey, if you like, I can send you a book. Do you like histories? Fiction? Poetry?"

*****

Days passed, a week. Friends and acquaintances came by, but couldn't stay. Her guilt wasn't in question, and magical means were used to ascertain how events went; as the Justices were Clerics of the Order, they had divine insight and divination on their side. She didn't have an advocate, but one of the elder wizards who was well-disposed to her brought her news.

The small balding halfling, her favorite teacher, Mr. Proudfoot, shifted from foot to foot outside the barred door. "Well, Fallmorik has been lobbying for the maximum penalty, whatever that might be, but the realistic choices appear to be either a geas or a stretch in a Time Cabinet, until the infamy of your deed has faded a bit. An act of passion puts a pall across all of us, reminds people of the excesses of the Ungoverned Times," which was wizard-jargon for the days of free practice of magic that had led to the Night Plague.

Either way, it wasn't good. She was either mystically restricted in her actions and abilities, able to know what she could to but unable to do it, or she was forced to leap into the future a certain amount of time, emerging a near-stranger to all those people and places she had known before.

"They'll most likely talk to you some more before they make any hard decisions." He shifted again, not knowing what to do. "Can... can I get you another book? Do you need any more distractions?"
 
Despite her time in her cell, Cersei didn't look any worse for the wear. True that it had only been a week, but she had seen others in these cells waste away in a short amount of time. She never knew why, it didn't shorten their lives any. Perhaps it was a side-effect of the runes that suppressed magical abilities. Maybe she could find out once this whole ordeal was over. There had to be books somewhere. "I'd like a book on runes, sir. If I'm allowed." She said simply, not looking through the bars when she did. "As for Fallmorik, what is the maximum penalty? Death? Exile? Neither of those would be feasible ideas. If anything I should get almost a full pardon for all I've done for the council. They owe me. They should be putting Fallmorik under a geas! HE'S THE ONE THAT DESERVES IT!" Cersei emphasized her point by slamming her fist into the thick door, making it shake while she bruised her knuckles in the process. She began sobbing soon after, slipping to her knees and mumbling "It's not fair" over and over again.
 
Proudfoot reached through the bars, desperately patting her shoulder, helpless as to what to do. "I'm sorry, Cersei, I don't know. I just don't know."

*****

The next morning, Cersei had a surprise visitor: Guildmaster Orino himself. The old man looked harried and tired, but he wasn't entirely callous. "Carnivale, there's a recent development. Your case has a lot of baggage attached to it: there's more than just Fallmorik's vengeance, there's a whole paranoia about the Guild as a whole and fear of magic involved, and it's blown way out of proportion. It's not fair to you, but a lot of things that happen to us aren't particularly fair." He sighed. "Your work with the Council is a mitigating factor, and in fact, that's what I've come down here to discuss."

"The Guild and the Council have decided that now is an appropriate time to try and locate Arran Shieldbiter. I'm sure you recall the incident in the mines recently with Wurra Stonesmasher. We have recently developed a way to track a person through sympathetic magics, in a very general way, and as we have Shieldbiter's old amulet, we tried using it."

"It gave us a reading."

"Given the trouble Stonesmasher gave us, and the fact that Shieldbiter's amulet turned up actually IN Tarak, the Council considers him a threat, and wants that threat eliminated. You've had experience dealing with the abomination that Stonesmasher became, and I'm told you're one of the finest wilderness survivalists in the city. There are a few scouts and guides that compare, but none currently in town that we trust, and absolutely none with magical skills."

"We need you, Carnivale. We need you to pick a team of your friends, those who can keep secrets and those who can perform a stealthy mission. We need you to find Arran Shieldbiter and make sure he can't bother Tarak any longer. And if you succeed, I will personally mitigate the consequences you will have to endure for your rash moment of temper."

The highest-ranking, most powerful Guild wizard in Tarak looked Cersei in the eye and asked "Will you help us?"
 
Cersei had calmed down considerably since the day before, managing to get some sleep before the Guildmaster's voice woke her. She tied her hair up in a bun before going up to her cell bars to listen to what Guildmaster Orino had to say. She listened intently, nodding and reacting when appropriate. Once it came down to him asking for her help, she turned her back to him and pondered her options. It was fairly obvious what she would have to do. A mitigated sentence was better than a full one, but if she had to take to the time cabinet anyway, then it didn't matter. She turned back around and looked at Orino. "Alright, I'll help." She said simply.

"Before you go though, I want to know something. Would I be correct in assuming that Fallmorik will be too disabled to continue his duties as the guild's research evaluator? If so, that's good. I mean no offense to you but he was by far the worst person for the job and everyone knew it." She still couldn't get the moment out of her head, so she let it out in little bits like this, telling people and venting. "When am I going to be let out? I need to do a little organizing, and I'll also need my sword back."
 
Orino sighed. "Yes, he was awful. But we don't have enough qualified examiners. It's a dilemma; we have to have a job for every wizard, we have to utilize every person, and... he's got good instincts. He can sniff out the junk, it's just he can't admit when there's something worthwhile, either." Orino sighed. "In a way, it's been kind of a test. If you can put up with Fallmorik, you can put up with any amount of suspicion and hate the unmagical might heap upon you. Before now, it's been a difficult but useful test. But clearly, we'll have to modify our approach." He pauses, looking at her appraisingly. "I appreciate that you were provoked, that you were pushed. But you were the one who chose to respond the way you did. And it got out of hand, accidentally, yes. But it was still your choice. I don't think you get to escape that, Carnivale."

He sighed, and rubbed a hand across his face. "All right. You're getting out right now. Your sword has been put in your room, with the rest of your belongings. You are free to make the preparations you need. Select your friends, and get ready. Two days from now, you should be on the road, or you'll be telling me why you're still here." He gestured to the guard, then looked back into her eyes. "Good luck."
 
Kohdeki cooled his heels at the Blue Boggan, as usual. He had just robbed a rich couple down in the River Shaft. They had caught on to him, but Kohdeki had used his ring knives to cut the young lady's dress straps, thus creating a suitable, if not hilarious, distraction while he escaped.

A muffled jingle accompanied Kohdeki's movement, but right now, he had his heels up on the table in the corner, trying to enjoy his mug of ale.

It was hard though, ever since he had heard about Cersei being locked up.
 
Cersei left and didn't look back at Orino as she left the cells. Her first priority was equipping herself, which wouldn't be hard since everything should be in her room. She traveled quickly, getting set quick and making sure she didn't waste her two day deadline. If anything she wanted to get out today, as soon as possible, but that all depended on how fast her friends could get ready.

She figured Kohdeki would make a good first choice. He was always prepared and knew how to keep a secret. Cersei headed down to the Blue Boggan, figuring that Koh would be swindling the people there or hiding out from a recent robbery. Right as she walked through the doors she saw Koh sitting in his corner and sipping at his ale.

She ducked and dodged through the crowd, eventually making it to his table. "Koh, what do you say to a trip outside, hmm?" She said trying not to sound too serious. It was bad enough that she was taking it hard, but she didn't want anyone else take it as such.
 
Kohdeki spat the contents of his mouth onto the table upon the sight of Cersei.

"Cersei!" Kohdeki shouted in elation.

He hopped up from his chair and gave her a tight hug, spinning her in circles before setting her down.

"Are you okay? Did the guild cast a geas on you? Are you being followed?" Kohdeki fired off his questions in rapid succession, accompanied by a concerned tone.

He eyed Cersei, head-to-toe, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
 
The only thing out of the ordinary Koh would see is that Cersei was fully geared and that the calm look on her face seemed strained. She made a motion to signal him to calm down. "It's alright, Koh. Nothing that drastic has happened. Not yet at least. I'm out temporarily thanks to the council." She sat down and rested her elbows on the table. "Look, the bottom line is that the council has a mission for me, something that they only trust me and my friends to do. If I'm successful, then my sentence is mitigated a little. Jail time, time cabinet, geas, whatever. It won't be as long as it would have been. If I'm unsuccessful, then Fallmorik gets what he wants, me dead. I came to you first, since I know you'll be able to help me." Her look softened slightly, her eyes had a look of hope that Koh would say yes. "So, will you, even though it means we have to leave Tarak?"
 
Kohdeki motioned to a nearby wench to clean the table before he turned to Cersei again.

A skeptical eyebrow raised, the young thief took a seat in the corner, then leaned back in the chair, folding his arms.

"I'm insulted that you would call into question my desire to help you." Kohdeki said, his handsome features slowly turning into a jestful grin.

"You know as well as anyone in our group that you can count on me." Kohdeki said proudly before taking a swig from his mug. "So, what's the score?"
 
"Well, it's a continuation from what we got from the mines not too long ago. The amulet we found belonged to Shieldbiter, and since we found it inside Tarak the Council thinks that means he's planning something. Actually they may have been thinking that for a while, but now that they got the amulet, they can find him. Basically all we have to do is go out and find him. It's likely he'll be expecting something, so we should be careful once we get there. We'll definitely need more than just the two of us, so I was planning on searching out Lulu." Cersei spouted everything off quickly, starting to sound nervous as everything started coming together. She had a look of pondering on her face as she checked through all of the details in her head to make sure she didn't miss anything.
 
"Lulu, hmm?" Kohdeki almost whispered into his mug as he peered over it at Cersei "I can't say I agree with all her business methods, but I'm sure she'll fit the bill. She's definitely got bigger balls than me when it comes to combat. Hopefully, she won't try to rub it in my face like a certain city guard I know."

Kohdeki set his mug down and reclined on the wooden chair, putting his hands behind his head and his feet on the table.

"Geez. Where would you be without me?" Kohdeki laughed.
 
"I would have gone to him, but being with the city guard, he can't be trusted. He's nice, he's good at what he does, but he can't keep a secret to save his own life. Anyway, I need you to be ready as soon as possible, tomorrow at the very latest. I only have today and tomorrow to get my ass out of the city before the Guildmaster starts asking questions. Got it?" Cersei got up from her seat, downed the rest of whatever was in Koh's mug then gave him a tight hug as thanks before going in search of their mercenary friend. She wasn't sure where to look first, so she would wander around the city a little just in case she would run in to her on the street.
 
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