Rayes Mazak and the Chariot of Fire

[Deleted]

Note: The whole thing is a prequel to Rayes' current adventures, and explains why he's so tame nowadays despite being a hot-blooded adventurer in the past.

-- Chapter 0: The End --

It wasn't supposed to end this way. Rayes had been meticulous, no, infallible in his planning. There was no way they could have known! He ran through the streets of Akum, struggling to avoid the inevitable, an onslaught of angry lights threatening to swallow him. It wasn't just that the people were angry; they were happy, happy to have someone to vent their frustration on after all this time! Rayes couldn't fault them; after what he'd seen, he believed firmly that he may have been one of the mindless throng had he lived here. Still, the sheer ingratitude of these people burnt at his soul.

The slender Irasi dodged around a corner into an equally slender alleyway. The homes were abandoned, the occupants no doubt joined in on the chase, but Rayes was grateful for this point. Otherwise, there may be flowerpots or some other corny falling objects obstructing his path. He slowed for a moment and began to trot quietly along the alley, but suddenly he heard shouting behind him and the hateful glare of fire reached into the alley.

Rayes broke into a sprint, cursing his lack of daily exercise. The alley was littered with puddles and trinkets of garbage that lazy port dwellers had cast from their windows, but he had no time to stop and look. Using his height, a natural advantage, he sprinted with large bounds to lower his odds of stepping in something unpleasant. Behind him, he heard the muffled shouts of clumsy humans, and knew that somebody had tripped, slowing the procession down.

Just before reaching the end of the alleyway, the relentless glow of fire peeked around the corner, and Rayes knew that more pursuers were incoming. He drew his cloak over himself and crouched down, as a dozen or so men armed with torches and short swords ran past the alley. After they had passed, Rayes turned back to see that his previous pursuers were catching up, the flame in their eyes matching the flames they carried.

He turned the corner, and pressed his back to the wall, drawing in his cloak so it didn't show. With his right hand, he reached for his sword, a longsword made of steel that the adventurer had personally tempered with his magic. A footstep sounded at the corner; an arc erupted out of the longsword, turning it momentarily into a scythe, and Rayes swung out, narrowly missing his clean decapitation and instead implanting the scythe blade directly into the man's forehead. Cursing in frustration, Rayes twisted his wrist; the scythe modification broke off, returning his sword to its original form. The swordsman then kicked the body back into the alley, with a satisfying thud as it unbalanced the next pursuer behind it. Rayes waved his hand over the clothing of the corpse, and, with a deep whistle, it ignited, sending up an explosion which deterred any more townspeople coming in that direction.

Rayes turned left and continued down the street in the direction that the dozen or so men had come from. It was risky, but if he could just make it to the Fisherman's Daughter, he could gather his effects and make a proper escape. Having already come this way, a distinct lack of pursuers greeted Rayes, and for a moment the red heat of the flames was carried away by the cool, blue ocean mists of the night. He sighed to himself, and recalled nostalgically the peace and tranquility he had felt staring into the wide sea just yesterday. Upset with himself for giving into regret so easily, Rayes pressed on. Just outside the inn, two rioters, late to the party, came out, and immediately sighted him.

"There he is! Get him!" They seemed a little tipsy, and approached Rayes at a fast speed but with an unsteady gait. Unfortunately, it seemed his hand would be stained with more blood that night. He crouched backward slightly and reached into his belt, drawing forth a water skin. When the two men were perhaps three meters away, Rayes tossed the skin forwards while making a shooting motion with his off-hand, extending the index and middle fingers. The skin suddenly exploded; the heat from the reaction ignited the alcohol in the breaths of the men, creating two very loud and noisy human-head bombs. Whoops.

There were very few other options left to get into the inn if even the inn-goers were hostile now. Rayes waved his hand over his sword again, once again turning it into a scythe. He began ripping his cloak, making zigzag rips to turn it into a long bandage of cloth, which he tied to his sword. He would have melded the cloth into the sword, but solids weren't his specialty and there was little enough time as it is. Grasping the cloth a few lengths away from the hilt of his sword, he swung the sword around a few times to gather momentum before heaving it at the roof of the warehouse. It clanked ineffectually on the side of the wall, just near the roof, before falling back down; Rayes had to sidestep to avoid impaling himself. The noise of raging fires and raging humans grew louder. He swung the sword around again and gave it a larger heave. This time, the scythe reached over the roof, and before it could make contact naturally Rayes pulled down heavily on the cloth, slamming the scythe tip through the roof. Normally this would be impossible, but Rayes always made sure his weapons were of strong stock, that kind that could only be created by dwarves or magic.

He pulled twice on the cloth to make sure it could support his weight, and climbed up the wall as fast as possible. After that, it was only a matter of repeating the same trick to get onto the roof of the inn. Rayes struggled to remember exactly where his room had been. It was on the left, here, I think, and was it...four doors down? I...aha! Finding the correct location on the roof, Rayes pulled out another water skin, his second-to-last, and carefully sprinkled it in a vaguely-circular shape on the area above his room. With another dramatic gesture, the water exploded, blowing a nice, serviceable hole in the ceiling. Welp, no more magic for today, I think. Made it just in time, I suppose. Drained, Rayes attempted to descend dramatically into his room, only to hit the floor at an angle and crumple inelegantly into a heap. After being stunned for a moment, he sat up and looked around the room to see a familiar shadow...

[Deleted]

-- Chapter 1: To Spark an Adventure --

Once upon a time (just a few years ago, to be exact), in a distant land (Sunderbran, not really so distant to people who live there)...

Let's try this again.

It was the middle of Rastrii in Sunderbran and, as most were aware, Sunderbran was a rough place for fair-weather travelers to be at any time of year, much less this one. Thus, it was no surprise that Rayes Mazak, now merely in his second century and having traveled for only a few years, encountered difficulties in keeping himself comfortable. He had four traveling cloaks of different colors draped over him, yet it would help none if underneath it all he wore a simple cotton shirt with cotton leggings, barely fit to keep a traveler warm during spring rains, much less a snowstorm in the middle of Sunderbran. The idiot had been wearing wooden sandals as well, but upon arrival at the continent he had immediately sought out and purchased magically-reinforced woolen boots, and at least was relieved from the cold in regards to his feet. Every now and then, though, he could have sworn he felt a small trickle of melted snow seeping in, but that was just the nerves talking.

"C-could someone p-please explain to me w-why on Solabren we are l-looking for an artif-f-fact called the Chariot of F-fire in the c-c-coldest contin-nent on the entire p-p-p-DAMNED COLD!" A quick jab to the face, light and friendly, silenced the irate Irasi as the other travelers merely chortled. The initiator of the punch, walking to Rayes' left, gave him a friendly grin from under a thick, woolen hood. Shut-up punches, after all, were one of the trademarks of adventurers. He lifted his hood up slightly to make eye-contact with Rayes, revealing a small, violet horn. "You're going to make us lose our prey," said Memas, the swordsman of the group, "with all that bellyaching of yours."

Rayes pouted, but didn't speak back. After all, even in a blistering snowstorm, stealth was of the essence when one was tracking a hostile party. For a moment, the apothecary, for that was Rayes' chosen trade, recalled the circumstances under which he had signed up for this unfortunate endeavor. It had been a quiet but cold-ish day in Port Akum, where Rayes was stopping for the night to sell some potions and keep an ear out for the next big adventure. He enjoyed the place; even in the cold seasons, the jagged, cliff-side streets bustled with livelihood, and the bright twin suns up in the sky could almost make a cozy enough person forget that it was the beginning of winter-time. Rayes enjoyed the smell of the salted sea breeze, though he enjoyed all forms of water; after all, all potions and poultices came from the same base stock. He smiled, and continued to peddle his wears loudly.

A day passed, same as any other peaceful, non-adventurous day. As usual, the moneymaking went relatively well, for this brewer was both competent and a decent salesperson. Still, both his parents had been adventurers, so it was not in his blood to settle down anywhere and "make a living", so to speak. Besides, in a town, his potions served to cure simple ailments and treat trivial skin wounds. Out on the fields, in caves and dungeons, atop high mountaintops, in forests filled with exotic animals and equally exotic poisons...it was in these places that magical brewery truly shined. Still Rayes had been woefully unprepared for the manner of adventure which he was about to undertake...

He had been on his way back to the Fisherman's Daughter, the inn where he had been staying in the town. It was on the wharf, and offered a very nice view of the ocean, although Rayes was stuck with a cliff-view room because he didn't want to shill for a better view. One sun had already dipped below the horizon, while the second slowly followed its older sibling, casting the world about him into an orange hue. Rayes regarded this time of day fondly; wooden houses and stone streets, the frolicking of younger adventurers and the droning shouts of merchants, it all reminded him of a giant festival, alive and happy with its own, mundane energy.

He was about to turn down an alleyway, a shortcut which he had found while wandering the city just yesterday, when two large figures came barreling out, one tackling the other to the ground. Both were shrouded in black cloaks, a style which Rayes regarded with some admiration; he resolved to purchase a similar cloak (or four) later that day. The figure on top, a larger figure, perhaps topping Rayes' already significant height of six-two (and certainly topping him in bulk) had wrapped his gloves around the figure on the bottom, a person with more normal dimensions. The figure on the bottom writhed violently, but could not make a sound; the larger figure remained impassive, slowly squeezing the life out. Some passerby gathered around the scene, but none made a sound; spectacles such as this were routine, it seemed. Even so, Rayes could see a clearly mismatched situation, and he was not yet wise and weary with age.

The potion seller dove in and began his attempt to separate the large figure from the small. He seemed almost silly, with his dusty cotton clothing and lack of weaponry. The strangler, perhaps more in surprise than actual weakness, detached from the victim, who then scampered off into a different alleyway. Suddenly, the assailant seemed to be more aware of the situation. "Who are you?" boomed a deep and angry voice, one which could instantly command respect from those that knew fear. "Are you a spy too? Have you come seeking the Chariot as well?" Rayes could not answer, for he had been lifted into the air by his throat with one gloved hand. Flailing, he looked down at the visage of the cloaked figure. A defined, stony face, purple of skin, with a horn on the top of his head. D-d-d- Rayes wanted to think demon, but nowadays the politically correct term was Dresari, and in the few seconds the apothecary took to think such trivial things, the purple-hued attacker became aware that he was making quite the scene. He growled, a loud and throaty growl, before whisking Rayes away down the alley he had previous tried to enter, still grabbing him by the neck.

In the alley, the imposing figure set Rayes down. "Follow me, or I will crush you." This pithy statement worked exactly as intended, and Rayes dutifully followed the hulking man back to the Fisherman's Daughter, where he had eventually planned to go in the first place. The purple fellow had a sea-view room the lucky bastard which he directed Rayes into before closing the door. It was a sparse room, with a bed, a set of drawers opposite the bed, and a small table and chair. The Dresari man walked across to the table, and motioned Rayes to sit in the chair while he himself stood. Rayes gingerly complied.

"Now then," intoned the demonic man in that fearful voice of his, "tell me who you are, and who sent you!" He smashed his fist down hard on the table, not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to strain the legs and produce an uncomfortable squeak. Rayes gulped. "I'm just an apothecary, a mere potions seller! Please don't hurt me," he added, as though that ever helped.

The Dresari man gave Rayes a long stare, before slapping him across the cheek. "As if you'd expect me to believe such a pathetic story! Tell me, then, why you would save that man who was spying on me? Hmm?" He folded his arms, and the cloak fell back a little to reveal a muscular, stony forearm that was as purple as the inquisitor's face. Rayes swallowed, aware that what he said now could turn the situation either way.

"Well, you were sort of choking a man to death in the middle of the street. I thought it right to intervene."

There was a long silence, punctuated only by the caw of a lone seagull outside the opened window. Both men stared at each other, taking in the silence with every fiber of their being, although Rayes was obviously considerably more nervous. After about a full two minutes, the purple man suddenly slammed his hands down on the table with his head bent over it. "Dammit! Why couldn't I see how stupid that was? Accosting a spy in the middle of the street! Dammit, dammit, dammit!" He turned about and punched the wall, the weak wood giving away somewhat easier than it should have to make a nice hole. He turned back to Rayes, his voice now considerably calmer, the voice of an honest craftsman. "I'm sorry, potions-seller, I should've realized. Of course it would be natural to be suspicious of me in such a situation. I'm truly sorry, but...ugh! He got away! I can't believe it!" Surprised to find his interrogator beating himself in the head, Rayes stopped him before he impaled his fist on his horn.

"Wait, no, it's alright. I can see that there were some...extenuating circumstances. This 'Chariot of Fire' thing must be very important to you."

There was another pause, considerably less tense and less lengthy than the previous one. It ended quite the same way, though, with another fist-hole being made in the wall, just to the right of the previous one. "Why! Why am I such a fool?! Shouting about it in the middle of the street, I might as well have just announced "HEY WE'RE GOING TO LOOK FOR THE CHARIOT OF FIRE! Aaaaugh!" The Dresari man seemed to be going quite insane from the results of his own hot-bloodedness. Rayes sought to calm him down, if only to make sure his own face wasn't the victim of the next poorly-thrown punch.

"Please, sir, calm yourself. I'm sure it can't be all that bad, whatever this Chariot of Fire thing is. ...What is it, anyway?" Rayes couldn't help himself; an adventurer always inquired after an adventure, and whatever this Chariot of Fire thing was, it had a hulking, demonic person looking for it and a black-cloaked spy also looking for it. That was an adventure, right there, no matter what anyone else said! But the Dresari man could only shake his head before giving Rayes a suspicious glare.

"Now why would a humble potions seller like yourself ask such a thing? Surely you can tell it brings more trouble than it's worth?" The apothecary, now changed into his adventurer's persona, could only answer honestly. "I am an adventurer," said he. "Making potions just brings me money between journeys. Whatever this Chariot of Fire is, it sounds like an adventure to me. I'm out to see the world, and that means all of its strange and dangerous artifacts as well." He stood up, suddenly, and flourished his arm to the side. "I am Rayes Mazak, adventurer extraordinaire, and I never let a story go to waste!"

Yet another silence, even shorter and calmer than the last. This time, instead of a fit of punches, the Dresari man broke out into a fit of laughter. He soon subsided to chuckles, after noticing Rayes' apparent displeasure. "Sorry, sorry, it's been a while since anyone's said something like that." The cloaked one slammed his palms on the table. "I am Memas Kaiser, Dresari adventurer and swordsman." He held out a hand, which Rayes took firmly and shook. "I don't suppose you know anything about this Chariot of Fire?" Rayes could only shake his head.

"Well, let me tell you. Once upon a time, there was a mage who fell in love with a fortune-teller. Every day he would go to meet her and have his fortune told. Every day, she would tell him that all love he had would eventually wither and die, and that he was unworthy of such things. The mage grew angrier and angrier with each visit, for he truly did love her, and who was she to tell him such things when all he cared was to make her happy? Although he visited plenty, her fortune always prevented him from revealing his feelings, until at last he could take it no more. He wrought a tarot card, the Chariot, and enchanted it with a spell to set whatever person it touched on fire, a blazing, magical flame that could not be extinguished until its victim was dead. Late at night, wearing gloves, he snuck into her tent and exchanged his Chariot with hers, before sneaking back out.

"The next day, the man returned for the last time, and asked her to make a divination. As she pawed through the cards, she grazed but the edge of the Chariot and burst into flames. The man, in an instant, realized the folly of his ways and how true the fortune-teller had been in her predictions, and sought to save her life. Alas, he had enchanted the fire so that it would last until the victim died, and he could do nothing for her. In despair, he grabbed her deck, so that the Chariot would set him ablaze like he had set ablaze his love, and perished a painful death in penance for his wrath and lust."

Memas paused for a moment, catching his breath. "That is the story of the Chariot of Fire, and it is this grand, bloody artifact which we hunt. Well, scared?" Rayes paused for a moment. "Not really, but...if you were really worried about spies, why on Solabren did you just tell me all that on my word that I was innocent?" Memas' eyes bugged out, nearly popping out of their sockets. His jaw dropped, and his gaping expression lasted for yet another long pause, until he straightened up and shook his head. "No, no, you seemed genuine. I may be a bit slow, but some things I can definitely see."

Rayes could only shake his head in wonder. "Then what about that other spy? What will you do about him?" As Memas prepared to make yet more holes in the wall, a tall, human man kicked in the door with a small sack over his shoulder. He was dressed sparsely for the cold weather, a shirt and pants like Rayes but with cut sleeves. With a thud, he slammed the sack onto the table, breaking it to pieces. Out onto the floor rolled the head of a gaunt, pale human. The newcomer smiled a grizzly grin; even his face was grizzled, all bushy brown hair and goatee.

"Saw the whole spectacle, Memas, and ran him down just out of sight. You should thank this fellow here," he said, pointed to Rayes. "Saved us the trouble of a public murder. Now then, what's all this about you tellin' our quest to everyone for? I can hear ya from outside the bloody room!" Memas flushed, if that was possible for someone with purple skin. Rayes intervened. "I'm here to join your quest."

More silence. Memas stared at Rayes, who now stood between him and the brown-haired man, outclassing him in height but not bulk. Then the man laughed. "Alright then, if that's your wish. You sure you want to go artifact hunting? It might be more dangerous than you think." Rayes nodded, and said, "Yes, yes, burning tarot card. I've been on my fair share of adventures, you know. There's no more that needs to be said." The grizzly man uttered, with a comical sense of doom,

"Very well."

And the next thing anyone knew, Rayes was in the middle of Sunderbran in the winter, battling a snowstorm fierce enough to topple an elephant. In front of their formation was the man he had met later, a native to these lands called only by one name, Hyazek. To his left...to be honest, he had never really had the chance to meet the last traveler. They had been introduced as they boarded the ship to Sunderbran, and Rayes could not view under his hood to see what lay within. He seemed to be about Rayes' bulk, judging from the flow of his thick traveling robe, but was about a head shorter. Probably a magic user, though. It makes sense, given the secrecy. That, and that Hyazek had armed himself with a large composite bow, so a healer, swordsman, archer, and mage would have been a pretty balanced team of adventurers. Rayes didn't say that out loud, though; his mother had taught him not to say such things out loud.

Suddenly, everyone stopped walking. Hyazek, who had lived in these storms all his life, looked into the distance. "There, a faint glow. We must find shelter near here and make preparations." For the true nature of the Chariot of Fire was that it had already been stolen from its rightful place in some Imperian vault and that Memas' team, come to the winter island armed for battle, was planning to reclaim it by force.

Note to self: request more details before a mission from now on.

[Deleted]

-- Chapter 2: The Chariot of Fire --

In a nearby cavern, the four travelers shivered as they tried to simultaneously warm themselves by a quick fire they'd made while using their bodies to prevent too much of the glow from escaping through the cavern entrance. Rayes sat furthest away from the entrance, wringing out his wet outer cloaks to the side. The others merely warmed their hands by the fire, Memas' broadsword being sheathed by a strange black fabric, while Hyazek's composite bow used the horn and sinew of magical beasts which resisted the moisture. The last figure, dressed in a hooded cloak noticeably thicker than the rest, had no weaponry or equipment that was immediately apparent. He simply dried his gloves, without removing them to warm his hands.

After a moment, Hyazek loudly grunted, "So, anybody have a plan?" While everyone else began contemplating, Rayes put his own observations to work. We are currently traveling through a mountain pass, quite wide in its flat area. Can't even call it a pass, really; one could built a small city inside. Both the pursuers and the carriers of the Chariot had been hugging the mountain-side, though; some natural protrusions, though admittedly dangerous, provided brief respite from the snow during the journey. How had they made camp? Did we see the light from another cavern? Or... He turned to Hyazek. "Tell me, do you think you could get closer to their base?"

The Sunderbran man snorted. "First off, the answer is 'no'. I'd stick out like a sore thumb. And why do ya want me to do somethin' that daft for anyway? Hopin' I freeze to death so you get a larger share?" He laughed, quiet but warm, as if to show to everyone (Rayes included) that he was just having some fun. Rayes shook his head, slowly. "I was hoping that we could find out more about their encampment." They knew the numbers already; six guards, dressed in white, woolen robes; one of them, the tallest, carried a small black sack tied to his hip, which they had all assumed contained the Chariot, which would not ignite until it touched living flesh. "If we knew how they were posting guard at their cavern, or such things. I know how you can get closer, too." Rayes fumbled through his cloaks, before pulling out a thin, greyish-blue cloak; he'd gotten it at a discount because of how unfashionable it was. Hyazek reached over the fire and took it.

"Well, well, looks like our little fanatic has some ideas in that noggin' of his after all? Maybe it was a good thing you found him, eh, Memas?" The large human man nudged the equally large Dresari, who gave him a nervous sort of half-grin. "I'll be off, then." Donning the cloak, Hyazek swept out of the cavern; Rayes took up his position to the north side to cover the fire as they waited.

Time seemed to stretch out as the group tensely awaited the result of the scouting mission. Rayes' thoughts were flying everywhere inside of his mind. Oh no, what if he got caught, or he got crushed by a snowslide? It'll be all my fault, I'll have sent that man to his death! But we need the information, or do we? Maybe if we all just hid behind Memas we could push through and- In the midst of this heedless panic, Hyazek returned, walking quietly into the cavern. He sat down without a word where Rayes had sat, and waited for someone to ask. Finally, Memas spoke up. "Well? What did you see?"

"You wouldn't believe it. A house! They have a bloody house set up here!" And in truth, Rayes really didn't believe it. What kind of an idiot builds a house out here? Eventually, the idea that perhaps their opposition had planned their stops a little bit better wormed its way into Rayes' mind, and he continued to listen to Hyazek's report. "It's a stone square, one story, three windows, with a door. I couldn't imagine actually living there, but there's enough floor space for, say, seven or eight men to sleep on the ground and not get crowded."

Silence descended upon the travelers. A stone house with one entrance was an absolutely incomparable advantage when the people inside the house merely had to defend an object while the attackers were passing through a snowstorm. Memas frowned, and suggested, "Why don't we just wait until the next day, then?" It seemed a reasonable suggestion, but Hyazek shook his head. "By then, we might actually be in a fair environment. I hate to say it, but it's best to get the jump on them while they're not expecting it. Attacking them on the open roads invites trouble, in our case." Rayes swallowed. That was just another way of saying they were unlikely to win in a fair fight. It made sense; he himself carried no weapon, just some potions and water, and as for the other stranger...

On cue, Hyazek turned to the last, cloaked figure. "Well then, you just came along to see this through. Why don't you give us a hand here, lass?" Hm? Wait, then... A pair of gloved hands drew back the hood of the cloak to reveal a human, female face. Their last member was very fair of skin, but not pale, as the tinge of blood colored her cheeks to give her a livelier appearance. Her hair, cropped to shoulder length, was a lively orange, but unaccompanied by any stereotypical freckles on her unblemished face. Her eyes, a glowing hazel, looked at Hyazek with...contempt?

Well, this one's got thorns. And then she spoke, in a soft and enticing voice unbefitting her words, "You moron. I was merely assigned by the House of Horlock to ensure that you buffoons did not botch this assignment." She glared at Rayes and Memas in quick succession. "Hiring such...unnatural mercenaries, I should have drawn the line. Don't expect me to be putting my neck on the line too!" She snarled, and withdrew back into the hood. Rayes sighed and shook his head, fingers pressed to his temple. Of course an Imperian hired us; who but the magelings would want an item such as this? Rayes sighed; back to the drawing bored.

Suddenly, he had a burst of inspiration. After all, he transmuted water into various things for a living. And what was snow, but water? Gingerly, he raised a hand. "I think I have an idea." Memas grinned, while Hyazek just laughed at him. "Oh really, potions elf? What will you do about this mess?"

Outside the cavern, a bright light shined briefly through the opening, illuminating a great deal more than a normal fire.

Inside, Hyazek licked his fingers and used them to put out a small ember that was left clinging to his hair. "Oh."

The four travelers put out the fire and made their way back into the blistering blizzard. They approached the house slowly and low to the ground, with only Rayes wrapped in his cheap, greyish cloak standing up and in the forward position. To his left and right, Memas and Hyazek crouched, ready to go in when he gave the signal. Behind him, their tag-along remained silent, though he could feel her silent judgment upon his back. When they saw the light coming from within the house, no doubt from a comfortable fire of their own, Rayes gave a hand motion, and the other three stopped moving.

The Irasi dipped low, and began to approach the house. He could make out a white-cloaked figure, standing sentry at the window facing them. Guess the six of them are rotating watches, three and three. Although Rayes could see his enemy clearly, for there was light within, he was mostly confident that he himself could not be made out in the darkness and snow. When he was perhaps ten paces away, Rayes suddenly dove to the corner of the house and remained silent for a few minutes to see if any guards had noticed him and were about to check.

Nothin', eh? Guess I'm just that good. He kept that thought to himself, if only because there was no one to share it with. Time for the signal. Concentrating hard, he raised a finger just above the roof of the house. It was hard to cast magic at this range, but...Rayes managed to create a sustained flame far above the house, any possible explosion being snuffed by the snow around it. At this, the men leapt forward, and the Imperian informant began to stride slowly forth as well. When they were in sight, faint noise sounded from within the building, and Rayes knew that was his cue.

Running backwards as fast as he could in the thick snow, Rayes put a reasonable distance between him and the house, as splinters of fire hurled past his ears while one of the robed figures tried to strike Rayes down through a window that the guard broke for that purpose. Finally putting what he deemed a safe distance between himself and the house, Rayes turned around and pointed two index fingers at the house (doing so helped him focus slightly). For a moment, nothing happened, and then suddenly all of the snow at the base of the house and on top of the roof was transmuted into a highly-explosive substance which promptly proceeded to bring down the house.

To be more precise, the explosion caused parts of the stone that the house was constructed out of to splinter off violently to the sides. The wall containing the door gave way first, causing the roof to tilt over in that direction, crushing one of the white-cloaked figures in the middle of escaping. Another one, who had made it out the door in time, rushed at Rayes with a dirk, but was shot in the eye by Hyazek, who had taken up a position just a few paces behind the Irasi. Memas rushed in to challenge the other four guards, who had barely managed to exit through the windows.

Exhausted, Rayes fell backward slightly, but was knocked upright again by the cloaked Imperian, who whispered, "I was told not to let any of you die so easily. My teacher said it was good practice trying to keep fools like you alive." The tired-out apothecary did not bother to turn around. Instead, he watched as Memas fended off the four remaining figures with wide sweeps, while Hyazek periodically picked one off with a solid shot. One for the shoulder, one for the... Oh, that can't be pleasant. Down to just two enemies, one of them suddenly shouted and pointed his palm at Memas' face. The purple-skinned demon fell backward just in time to avoid a gigantic splinter of ice that had flown past where his eye would have been. The other one, seeing a chance to break through, began running at Rayes and the Imperian. Damn...should have brought a weapon. Weakly, Rayes raised a hand as if to cast magic, but a dirk produced from within white robes promptly sliced his palm, depleting his concentration.

It seemed as though his neck would be the next target, when suddenly a black dust appeared from behind him and struck his assailant in the face. Rayes could hear a man's voice behind the coughing as the cloaked figure doubled over in apparent pain. For a moment, it seemed as though the black dust had done the trick, but the man's coughing began to ease up, and Rayes realized he had to act, fast. Bending down, he tilted the man's head back to see his eyes. Blue. Tear filled. The Irasi raised two fingers, one pointed at each eye, and mustered up the last of his strength. A spark flashed from the man's eyelids, and suddenly his tears ignited all at once, exploding and crushing in his eyes.

Rayes fell forward at the same time the man, writhing and screaming, did. He had overexerted himself, perhaps fatally; it was bad to fall unconscious in weather such as this. The last thing he remembered, as he began to slip away, was an engraving on the amethyst jewel on the ring of the man who he had brought down, his hand next to the adventurer's face.

An eye with...two pupils? How strange. And then all was nothing.

[Deleted]

-- Chapter 3: Smoke of Deceit --

The first thing Rayes noted upon waking up was that it was awfully cold. The adventurer, though hardy, really wasn't fond of cold climes, especially those as dreadfully dry as they felt now. He licked his lips, which were hideously chapped, though he did not yet open his eyes. What had happened last? Memories dripped back into his brain, like a leak in a cracked glass, slow, uncertain. There had been a fight, in the middle of a snowstorm near the mountains. Had they won? The silent adventurer's instinct told him yes, we had. Besides, it was far too cold to be the afterlife, whether he was going up or down. Those thoughts in mind, Rayes cracked open his eyes.

First impression: bright. Too bright. God, this is awful. As his eyes slowly adjusted, the immobile wanderer, still waiting on the right moment to experiment with moving his limbs, moved his vision about where he lay. Clearly, he was inside of a wooden building of some sort. There was a door to his side, and the ceiling was somewhat low. He was on what felt like a straw bed of some sort, for it prickled slightly at his back despite his shirt. Oh yes, I'm still wearing a shirt. Good to know. And pants too. No cloak, though. That made him frown slightly. He liked cloaks, and now all four of his had gone missing.

The light, a constant, shining irritation, was coming from outside the window, which was open. Apparently, someone had thrown it open rather recently, as it was devoid of snow, save one tiny chunk which had fallen into the opening, its hideous sheen now besieging Rayes' eyes. So he closed them. As he did, other things came into focus. First: it's still so damn cold. And secondly, the adventurer could now hear sounds coming from below, drifting into his ears as his other senses were put on hold.

...can't believe it! Why on Solabren would someone even...

...plain foolishness is what it is. Forget it, we were hired to do a...

...dare you talk about my...a manner! They'll certainly hear...

Seemed like those were familiar voices to him. Oh yes, my traveling companions. A Dresari, a human man of Sunderbran, and an Imperian woman as frigid as the ice in these parts, had been his strange company. At least they hadn't left him there to die. Had the Chariot be retrieved, though? Rayes would have just died if he had somehow caused the failure of an adventure. It seemed he'd get his chance to have his questions answered now, because he heard footsteps storming up what he presumed to be stairs, seeing as the voices had come from below.

Suddenly, the door burst, no, EXPLODED open as Hyazek stormed in with all of his wintery rage. "LET'S SEE WHAT THE ELF BOY HAS TO SAY ABOUT THIS!" So saying, he picked up the bed, Rayes still attached and clinging on to the sides with his fingers, and lifted it over his head, slamming Rayes painfully through the ceiling. Dazed and bleeding slightly from the nose, the unfortunate traveler was able to make out some words coming through the door to the effect of "You muscle-bound oaf, he's still asleep!"

Suddenly, Rayes experienced a falling sensation as he was unceremoniously dropped, bed and all, back onto the floor, which groaned as if in pain. Rayes groaned too, obvious in pain. Hyazek smiled a warped smile out the door and shouted, "He's FINE! He's awake right now! His eyes are wide open, wider than I've ever seen 'em!" Shortly after, the Imperian agent and Memas both stormed into the door, making the already-small room very cramped. Memas looked briefly at Rayes, noting the blood, and began a loud and unnecessary argument with Hyazek about "collateral damage." Meanwhile, the strange Imperian drew up close to him, studying his bleed.

"Oh, hush, you idiots, he's fine!" Both arguers fell silent. With a whisper in a strange tongue, she passed a hand over Rayes' nose, and he found that, though his nose still ached, it had indeed stopped bleeding. Rayes looked up, grateful that she had stopped the chaos, only to find a look of contempt that matched her manner of speaking. Any gratitude he had was shortly quashed, though there was now a lingering sense of respect. After all, she had managed to quiet two large, burly warriors, no small feat for an unarmed mageling half their size.

Clearing his throat (of dust, too), Rayes sat up slowly, back aching tremendously from the fall. "Now then, would someone bother explaining what all the fuss is about?" Immediately, both the Imperian and the Sunderbranian shot each other looks. Memas sighed, shrugging his shoulders with a bemused smile, though it belied a similarly bothered heart. The purple swordsman, now dressed again in a black cloak, walked over to where Rayes sat and sat down next to him on the ground.

"Well, as you may have gathered, we are now quite safe and out of the blizzard." Rayes nodded; so much was evident even in his shaken state. "We have also retrieved this!" With a flourish which Rayes would one day mimic, Memas produced a thin, black sack, with noticeable protrusions which Rayes could only assume was the... "Chariot of Fire! And even better, the storm let up shortly after while we waited in the cavern, so we were able to make it back here even with your dead weight." He nudged Rayes jokingly, but the Irasi could do nothing but feel slightly guilty; even if his magical ability had come in handy, he had ultimately dragged the group back. It seemed, too, that the mageling would have been of more use than him if she had tried; what was that strange spell with the black powder again?

Noticing Rayes' discomfort, Memas cleared his throat and continued on. "After a few days more of travel, we managed to make it to the town of Beaudan, where we are now. There's a ship due in port tomorrow that should be able to take us right back to Imperia, where we're supposed to make the trade." He coughed awkwardly, looking at Hyazek and the Imperian, who in turn were both looking at opposite corners of the room. "So, mission complete. Right? Guys?" His literally open-armed attempts at making peace were rebuffed with a coldness many degrees lower than the temperature. Rayes simply shook his head and sighed.

"So, what's with all the...this, then?" He waved his arms in a comical manner at the two angriest occupants of the room. Memas moved a hand to his head and scratched it, rubbing his nub of a horn as he did so. "Well, as it turns out, we got to have a good look at our assailants after the storm died down a little." Reaching into a cloak, the large man pulled out a disproportionately small ring, which he had taken charge of after the arguments had ensued. "This ring..."

Rayes cut him off, eyes shining with recognition. "I saw that ring on the man's hand before I passed out! Tell me, did you find out what the strange eye on the ring meant?" Suddenly, all of the other occupants of the room looked at each other with a quizzical glance, mid-scowl. Memas was the first to speak, turning back to Rayes with a concerned look. "I think you might want to have a closer look at this..." He pushed the ring up against Rayes face awkwardly, where the confused adventurer studied it.

That's not what it looked like before... For indeed, the engraving on the jewel had become a picture of a broken sword and a staff, crossed together. Rayes blinked once, as though that had ever done anyone any good. Nope, still the same old different picture. There was really no sense in trying to convince his traveling mates at the moment; he himself wasn't really sure a last vision before unconsciousness counted as any convincing evidence. Instead, he asked, "So what's this symbol mean then?"

Relaxed that he didn't have to put up with another strange argument, Memas explained: "It turns out that this symbol is the coat of arms of the House of Horlock." The name seemed familiar, but it eluded Rayes at the moment so he motioned Memas to continue. "By that, I mean that self-same house that had hired us to do the job in the first place!" Ah, that explains all the fuss. Still, Rayes was surprisingly nonchalant in his reaction.

"You know what, let's just turn it in anyway." Both Memas and Hyazek gave him a strange look, Hyazek's louder and more violent in expression, while the Imperian merely drew her hood over her head and avoided looking into his eyes. Rayes continued, "Well, I certainly don't enjoy the fact that we risked our lives over something as stupid as an in-house dispute," and suddenly the Imperian, too, glared at him, "but seeing as we've got the item we might as well collect our reward and return this person home." He gave an off-side thumb-jerk at the mageling, who sneered at him.

"My name is Naine, I'll have you know," she snarled, though Rayes could only marvel at her ability to state the first clause without twisting her tongue. "And as I was just trying to tell this oaf here," she pointed at Hyazek, "that is exactly what you morons should be doing. What kind of hired swords worry about things like this? Are you truly that unprofessional?" She stomped her foot, the floor creaking again. "Just get this over with so I can get my recognition for having overseen you bumbling fools!"

And that was it for Hyazek, who had literally burst a vein and was now trickling blood down his left eye, making him seem far more intimidating than his usual already-high standard. "Yooou!" he shouted, taking his bow from behind him and drawing an arrow from his hip-quiver. "I don't even CARE about taking this back safely now, but if I have to listen to ONE MORE MINUTE of your insults, I'll...!"

"Wait!" Memas cut his hand across in front of him, motioning for silence. Hyazek stopped mid-draw, while Naine's mouth was still half-open in fury. Slowly, the Dresari walked across the room to the window, while Rayes pulled himself into a standing position, still aching mostly everywhere. "Did you hear that?" And indeed, now that the noise had settled, and they were listening to the sounds outside...

clink. clink.

Hesitantly, the large purple one peered through the window at the ground below, and immediately pulled back as an arrow shot straight up through the window, narrowly missing his horn nub and instead implanting itself in the ceiling. "Attackers," he shouted back, grabbing for his sword, "the same white-cloaked ones as before!" Immediately, Hyazek sidled towards the window and loosed his arrow; Rayes could not see its path, but a muffled gurgle told him the arrow had flown true. Both Rayes and Naine had already been making for the door when suddenly Hyazek let out a fearsome bark as he fell backwards, another arrow flying into the room and through the hole in the ceiling he'd made.

All of a sudden, Rayes experienced a sensation of falling again as the ground finally gave way to its abuse, splitting the floor in half and depositing everyone painfully into the rubble of the floor below. Spitting a fragment of wood out from his mouth, which now tasted of blood, Rayes pushed himself up from the rubble while hacking and coughing. Rubbing his eyes cleared, he opened them to see four cloaked figures, crossbows aimed at his party, while one stood near the entrance to the building, short sword in one hand with two fingers of the other in the air, just waiting to give the order.

Shit.

[Deleted]

-- Chapter 4: Blaze of Glory --

It was hard trying to talk his way out of a situation with cloaked figures; Rayes had similar troubles in the past. Without expressions to read, it was impossible to tell whether one choice in the flow of words had turned the tide or brought down the dam. Besides, he wasn't in the best position to bargain; he hadn't bothered to look backwards yet, gaze focused intently on the sword-bearing figure, but Rayes suspected that, owing to a lack of noise behind him, his party might be unconscious. The Irasi turned his head backward slowly to look, and-

"Don't move," hissed a voice from beneath the sword-wielder's hood, chilling and high, but a man's voice all the same. Rayes snapped his attention back to what he now presumed to be the leader. "It doesn't matter if your friends are alive; they're going to be dead soon either way." Dramatically, the leader extended an arm forward, palm up, fingers beckoning. "Now then, where is the Chariot?" As if that were some sort of cue, all four crossbowmen lifted their bows to have Rayes head as the target.

There's no point in lying here. The cloaks were of the same shade, so Rayes could only assume that these men were part of the same organization, shared the same information. He sighed, and jerked his head slightly to the side, if only for show. "It's probably in this heap somewhere. Black sack, thin, you might see a corner sticking out." He added a grin; the situation was already as bad as it was going to get, in any case. "Be sure not to touch it, eh?"

The leader laughed, too, appreciating the last gibe of a dead man. He lowered his arm momentarily to point at the rubble and snap. One of the four crossbowmen walked over and began noisily searching through the wooden planks, tossing them to the side in frustration. After perhaps a minute of nothing but the sound of wood hitting wood, he finally exclaimed, "Oi, it's here!" while holding the sack up in the air. Rayes still couldn't see the leader's face clearly but imagined he was grinning under that hood. "Give it to me," he beckoned. The one who had found the Chariot walked over, elbowing Rayes as he passed. How juvenile. The motion was quick, the Chariot deposited in the outstretched hand, yet Rayes noted the amethyst-jeweled ring that the crossbowman wore.

"So, what's the deal then, eh?" said Rayes, feeling a little itchy on his leg now. "You have us steal this card from your own people, and then kill us to take it back?" He chuckled, relishing the absurdity of the situation. The card-finder had made his way back into their formation, bow aimed at Rayes' head again. The leader chuckled too, one to match Rayes' own. "Who am I to question the workings of the leaders?" Ah, so this man, too, is merely a pawn. And the itchiness was getting unbearable, really, it was quite over the top. Rayes' fingers twitched, longing to scratch, but he knew that would be a bad idea at this moment.

Shaking his head, the sword-wielder sighed and raised his off-hand to the air again, fingers poised to snap. "It looks like your journey is at an end." Really, I have to die with an itchy leg? Rayes watched the hand intensely, knowing that the last moments of his life drew near. What a wasted adventure. Well, at the very least he would not be executed quite so obediently. A muscle-twitched; Rayes ducked down; a snap was heard; arrows loosed themselves into the wall, flying past where his head had been just a moment prior. The swordsman cursed, and brandished his steel, while suddenly Hyazek, who moments before had been tapping Rayes' leg furtively, burst out from beneath the rubble and choke-slammed one of the reloading crossbowmen through the wall of the house, where he fell into a pile of snow, twitching. Memas, too, had risen, grabbing two of the crossbowmen with a flying leap as he slammed them into the wall, though not through it; the weapon clattered to the ground. The Imperian had not awoken, it seemed, and so Rayes was left to deal with the last crossbowman, who had discarded his weapon and drawn a dirk.

Rayes flew to the side as the man lunged out and bent him over with a swift kick to the crotch. Now was not the time for fancy martial artistry, especially since Rayes knew none. The unskilled adventurer, hastening to take advantage before he was challenged, stomped the kneeling man's head into the ground...twice, for certainty's sake. Quickly, he spun around, only to see that the leader had swung his sword at Memas, forcing the large Dresari to abandon his captives and draw his own sword. Now, dirks drawn by the remaining crossbowmen, it seemed that the situation was more or less even.

Hyazek, having finished beating in the face of his unfortunate victim, roared and lunged at the leader, who was now threatening Memas. The cloaked swordsman reacted swiftly, swinging around and slicing Hyazek in the side of the abdomen...where the sword blade, after making perhaps half a centimeter of headway, broke off and embedded itself firmly in the wall. Rayes mouth gaped. Hyazek's punch connected heavily, smashing the leader against the wall, where he fell forward and crumpled.

Memas was having trouble with the two remaining crossbow men, who alternated weaving in and out, backing Memas into a corner of the room. Rayes saw a chance, and tackled one of the cloaked figures from behind. Immediately, Memas swung his sword down towards the head of the other, who quickly blocked with his dirk. The force of Memas' swing caused the dirk to fly out of his hand and towards the floor. Whimpering, the cloaked figure ran outside through the hole in the wall his comrade had made.

Meanwhile, the last remnant was struggling with Rayes for the dirk, both of them rather ineffectual at the task, when Hyazek simply separated the two with little effort, holding both by the collar area of their shirts/cloaks. Memas quickly wrenched the knife from the struggling Imperian's hand, before Hyazek let go of Rayes and grabbed the unfortunate survivor, wringing him about in a rather comical fashion. "Well, it looks like we've got ourselves a prisoner, eh?" Rayes smiled lightly at that, kneeling down in the rubble and poking Naine on the head repeatedly, trying to wake her up.

Hyazek turned to the man he was holding. "Now, you're going to squeal, lassie, or cry until yer frozen tears can make us a new glacier!" The man would have gulped, but the hold on his throat was too tight, and settled for whimpering.