Alastair Archibald - Weapon of the Guild

The trapped man, his panicked face now suffused with a delicate shade of purple, managed to nod.

"I'm sure if I let him go now he'll tell us what he really said, hmm?"

The strangled victim, on the verge of unconsciousness, found enough energy to manage a weak, helpless nod.

As swiftly as it had appeared, the whip was once more cinched around Crest's waist. A small, sharp dagger had taken its place at the hapless man's throat, just pricking the skin over his left carotid artery. Grimm had not even seen Crest's hands move.

"Now, what did you say?" the thief asked, a broad smile on his face.

After taking a few gurgling, whooping breaths, the man managed to gasp, "I said they let all sorts in here, and it's good for trade."

"That's what I thought you said," Crest replied with a smile. The dagger disappeared. "Now, I advise you to tack off and let decent people enjoy a drink in peace and quiet. You can keep your pathetic little prejudices to yourself; I've heard it all before, and I have a short fuse."

The half-elf dismissed the man with an impartial boot to the backside. "Now, as I was saying, there I was, running through the streets with half a hundred baying hounds snapping at my heels…"

The chastened bigot tottered to a far corner table and sat with some other ruffians, who might be little more enlightened than he, but who seemed wise enough to keep their opinions to themselves. Grimm saw their heads thrown back in obvious hilarity at the man's swift humiliation, but he heard no more insults from that corner.

****

Dalquist ordered food, and in a short while, Grimm was devouring a sizable meal of roast lamb, new potatoes and green beans. The food was excellent, and he had to smother a satisfied belch.

"Well, I think we have a compact now," Dalquist said, after a small eructation of his own. "May we be ready to move by first light tomorrow morning, gentlemen? Grimm and I will be staying here tonight, so I suggest we meet up in the yard tomorrow, an hour after cockcrow."

"I have a few affairs to settle before we leave," Harvel replied, "but I should be finished by nightfall. I'll see you outside here in the morning."

Crest said, "Well, I also have one or two loose ends to tie up, but nothing that can't wait. I'll be here, Questor Dalquist."

The two adventurers left the tavern together, still digging into their seemingly endless stores of reminiscences, braggadocio and tall tales.

Dalquist consulted the landlord, Uril, about the availability of rooms for the night. After a little haggling, which seemed to be expected in this town, they settled on a fair price, and the two Questors went upstairs to deposit their bedrolls and travel accoutrements. Grimm's room, on the left at the top of the stairs, was basic but clean, and certainly no worse than the Scholasticate cell in which he had been immured for much of his short life. When he had tidied his belongings into the room's single cupboard, Dalquist knocked and entered.

"Now, Grimm, I know what I told you about being frugal with your money, but we need to get you some better clothes," the older mage said. "Those robes are serviceable enough, but some sad, benighted fools will always respect good clothes more than a mage's staff. 'Power and presence complete the mage,' as the Magemasters drilled into us at the Scholasticate. You have proved your power, but a little more presentation will go some way towards completing the effect. We won't be able to run to silk this time, but good quality sateen will go as well, I think. And some new shoes, definitely."

Grimm did not object to his friend's suggestion. He had spent so long in drab, homespun garments, and he had always longed for better clothes.

****

The two mages walked around Drute for some time. As Grimm had noticed before, although few of the townspeople seemed to have much wealth, the wares in some of the shops were positively opulent. The various emporiums attracted several wealthy-looking visitors, many of whom travelled with what he took to be bodyguards. Dalquist took the lead in arguing with the shopkeepers, who seemed to respect him the more because of it. At the end of four hours, Grimm had a set of well-fitting robes in blue sateen so dark it looked almost black except when the light played on it. He also now possessed a good pair of supple leather boots, comfortable and yet sturdy.

Dalquist also insisted that Grimm buy some jewellery to complete his ensemble until he possessed some genuine magical artefacts. Although Grimm protested, the older Questor explained that Seculars often judged a mage's prowess by the amount of 'hardware' he carried, and he was not satisfied until Grimm had a fair selection of pinchbeck and diamante rings, and an impressive looking amulet with various cheap but impressive-looking stones surrounding a deep red crystal centre. When Dalquist declared himself happy, Grimm eyed himself in a full-length mirror.

After gazing for many minutes at the unfamiliar, sophisticated-looking young man looking back at him, Grimm agreed his appearance accorded at least with the common Secular conception of a mage.

Dalquist explained that austere, monastic apparel suited some, but that one needed a long white beard and saturnine gaze to carry that off in a convincing manner. "Now people will take you at sight for a mage without the need to prove it," he said with an approving nod.

The two mages returned to The Broken Bottle, and spent a little more time sampling the beverages. This time Grimm cautiously allowed a little more of the drink's influence to seep through, although he took care not to become inebriated. Uril declared himself very impressed at Grimm's new apparel, which pleased the young man more than he would have expected. After a good evening meal of beef stew and dumplings, the mages repaired to their separate chambers.

Grimm spent two hours revising from a small book he had taken from his room at the House, but the volume and his eyelids began to grow heavy. The book slipped from his hand to the floor.

As he blew the candle out, he felt satisfied at his first day as a true Questor. He knew he had handled himself well in his encounter with Harman, he had made two new friends and earned their respect, and he had some fine new clothes. He fell asleep within moments, dreaming of honours and plaudits.

****

After a fair breakfast, Dalquist and Grimm paid their separate accounts at The Broken Bottle and thanked Uril for his hospitality. Shouldering their packs and heading out to the stables, they saw no sign of their horses. Dalquist banged his staff on the ground, releasing a small cloud of blue sparks, and called, "Boy!"

The stable-boy, Dor, emerged from the stable, his eyes wide and his hair tousled. "Your horses are safe, I swear, Lord Wizard! I spent all the night with them, so nobody could steal them."

The boy motioned the mages inside, and Grimm saw he had been as good as his word. The horses' coats and manes gleamed, their hooves were clean and disencumbered, and they appeared content, whickering gently.

Dor stood to one side, his expression anxious. "Did I do all right, Lord Wizard?"

"The horses are in fair condition," Dalquist replied after a few moments' close inspection of their mounts. "You have done well, Dor. Here is the silver piece I promised you, and five coppers more for your diligence. You would seem to have quite a way with horses. Thank you."

"Thank you, Lord Wizard!" Dor said with a broad grin, proffering a clumsy but respectful bow, his eyes distant. Grimm guessed the stable boy was already dreaming of how to spend the unexpected windfall. Bowing again, the lad made his excuses and scuttled away.

Grimm heard the sound of hoof-beats behind him and turned, to see Crest and Harvel entering the courtyard. Both wore sensible travelling attire, although Harvel's clothes were trimmed with opulent gold and silver piping. The young Questor smiled as he saddled his mount: it seemed the swordsman agreed with the Guild's obsessive insistence on 'presence'.