The talk around the table died as the three quickly began eating, hoping to take their minds off the rumor. If true, it could mean a serious interruption to their studies, which would be a good break. However, if true, then they were also in for a lot of trouble, which was definitely not good.
Master Enchanter and Sorcerer Elrose arrived in his preferred spot outside of The Raunchy Orc in a flash of light and a scattering of long dead leaves blown away by the air displaced by his teleportation spell. Master Trisfelt loved this tavern for some reason, it was nearly 500 leagues from the school in the middle of a dense woodland. Admittedly, remote enough to avoid any spying or eavesdropping by anyone that might know Lenamare or Jehenna.
Elrose adjusted his djaellaba and checked that his nimcha was secure on his belt and headed out of the woods into the cleared area around the tavern. Torches along the front of the tavern created a feeling of security around the building. There were only two horses in the adjacent stables as Elrose approached the door.
Entering the tavern he was immediately assaulted by extremely loud drunken laughter to his right. He glanced over to observe two satyrs holed up at the corner table under the stairs; their backs to the wall, legs spread to display their wares to anyone in the room. Elrose shook his head at their crudity.
Further into the room, halfway to the kitchen was Trisfelt at his favorite table, already piled high with books, scrolls and of course wine. Elrose smiled and moved to the table and sat down.
“I see you’ve started without me, my friend.” Elrose observed as Trisfelt chuckled and gave him a twinkly eyed smile through his round glasses.
“Half the reason I started coming out to these woods was for the reasonably priced local beer and wine. The satyrs make exceedingly good beverages of almost shocking value.”
“You spent time with them didn’t you?” Elrose asked, gesturing to Hilda, the barmaid for a pint of elderberry juice.
“Indeed I did, I spent a couple different seasons with the locals in the area, trying to ferret out the secrets of both their wine and beer recipes.” Trisfelt smiled fondly, remembering.
“So then, here’s a question you can answer, why do satyrs go around naked, and always seem to inadvertently expose themselves to everyone in sight.” Elrose shook his head disapprovingly.
“What, are there some things a sorcerer doesn’t want to See?” Trisfelt asked with a wry grin.
“Yes.” Elrose said drily.
Trisfelt chuckled, “There are many reasons, but mostly I think they consider it to only be polite.”
“Polite?” Elrose asked.
“Sort of like a greeting card, an advertisement if you will, an invitation to any that might want to spend some intimate time with them. They feel you should see what you’re getting.”
“Ugh, enough.” Elrose shook his head, still smiling. “Let’s talk about the other naked being with hooves that showed up today.”
“The demon?” Trisfelt asked.
“Of course the demon.” Elrose shook his head. “You flashed me the vision of it when we met in the great hall after the summoning. That is why we are meeting tonight.”
Trisfelt laughed and nodded, “It did seem to disturb you a great deal. I realize that it was a rather spectacular event, and achievement, but it ended well, so what is the matter?”
“I’ve Seen that demon before.” Elrose stated quietly.
Trisfelt shook his head, “I was there, it was a fresh catch, an unbound demon. There is no way you could have seen it before.”
“No, I mean I Saw it, in the scryings I’ve been doing to try to uncover what exactly Lenamare is up to.”
“You mean you saw it coming?” Trisfelt nodded in thought.
“Well, I saw it among multiple possible paths. It’s appearance today helps narrow down which road we are about to go down.” Elrose said.
“Well, that seems helpful.” Trisfelt shrugged.
“Helpful, perhaps, but as such it’s a bad portent.” Elrose stated, going silent as Hilda dropped off his juice and her assistant put down plates of chicken, bread and fruits and cheeses. The table was near to overflowing. Trisfelt did enjoy his dinners.
As Hilda and her assistant left Trisfelt turned back to Elrose. “A bad portent? So whatever it is that Lenamare and Jehenna are up to is, as we feared, going to be trouble?”
“I fear so, but the threads of the future, particular this future are hard to interpret.”
“What do you mean this particular future? I’d think untangling said threads would be what you do all the time?” Trisfelt asked.
“This is different, there are lots of people involved, armies of people.”
“Armies?” Trisfelt asked, puzzled. “As in more than one army?”
Elrose shrugged. “I believe so, and worse, demons, lots of demons and lots of wizards. All the mana and animus is clouding the picture, I only see disturbing glimpses.”
Trisfelt sighed, “Well how do we sort it out?”
“Later tonight, I shall attempt to contact an old colleague of mine who is a member of the Society.”
“The Society?” Trisfelt seemed surprised at this statement, “Are they even still in existence?”
Elrose smiled and nodded. “Yes, particularly among Seers. This friend is in Seren in Eton. I’m hoping either or he or someone he trusts can join us and help me sort this out.”
“You really feel it’s getting that bad?” Trisfelt asked, now truly worried.
Elrose shook his head, “Neither of us are Conjurors, but we both know that you don’t accidentally summon an unbound Greater Demon. It strains credulity, even for Lenamare. I fear something is up, and from what I can See it appears to center around our school and whatever insanity Lenamare and Jehenna are up to.”
“Argh, I think I’m going to stock up on bottles while I’m here tonight.” Trisfelt sighed.
Chapter 7
Hurt.
Pain.
Agony.
Suffering.
Severe pain.
Intense agony.
God awful hurt.
Extreme suffering.
Painfully agonizing suffering and hurt.
This is not good, thought Tom in one of his semi-lucid moments between thoughts of assorted types of pain, agony, et cetera. So far, in the last few hours since he smoked that joint, he had really done nothing but experience new and varied forms of pain, Tom decided. Fortunately, this pain was not so all encompassing or soul wrenching as the pain of formation or whatever it was called in Astlan; however, that did not make it any less intense. It was in fact a type of pain he was a little more used to, or at least able to cope with. This was the type of pain one felt after landing stiff legged from a long fall, only a lot worse, because this was a fall of several thousand feet. It was also the pain of having one’s breath knocked out, and one’s lungs temporarily collapsed, and that of a severe shock throughout the entire skeletal system. All in all, a bitch.
Eventually, Tom managed to draw in a shuddering breath and slowly open his eyes. He looked down at the ground expecting to see his broken legs, shattered all over the place. Instead what he saw was ground that resembled the pictures taken of the Martian deserts and which came half-way up his thighs. His legs it seemed were imbedded in the ground. They had actually punched two holes in the ground, and he was stuck in the ground. Not good, but at least they weren’t shattered. In fact, as he reanalyzed the pain, he realized that his legs must still be intact, so that the pain could feel like it was sending lightning bolts up his leg bones, which it did.
Boggy came flying down from above at this point. “I told you to relax and not think about it. Now look what you’ve done. You’ve gotten stuck.”
“Yeah,” Tom panted. “Got... my... breath... knocked... out... too.”