Брюс Корделл - Oath of Nerull

“Though I’ve never before seen it, I’ve heard it described; that is the Floating Crystal, home to the famed College of Wizardry,” said Hennet. “They sponsor the Duel Arcane every three years.”

The gnome nodded, and added, “I bet the city’s thick with our ilk, Hennet. They’ve come from all over to compete. I can smell the magic.” He gave a demonstrative sniff, then winked.

Ember said, “It’s time I sought the Order of the Enabled Hand. My warning can’t wait.”

“And we must hasten to the Floating Crystal. We need to sign up for the duel straight away,” replied Nebin.

Hennet looked a little sad as he helped Ember and Brek Gorunn pack up their belongings from the wagon. He said, “Though we’ve traveled together only a few days, you are both friends to me.” Hennet glanced at Ember as he said the last, then looked quickly away.

“My friendship was won when you rescued me from the cellar,” replied Brek. “I give you Moradin’s blessing and our thanks. We’ll meet again, I’m certain.”

Ember nodded, half listening to the dwarf but obviously impatient to be about her business.

Hennet spoke in a rush. “Let’s not leave it up to chance. Perhaps we can meet later this week? Nebin and I will be competing in the duel; perhaps you can come see us? We’re staying at the Cuttlestone, a tavern just up the street from here.”

He motioned to a nearby signboard, on which vacant rooms were advertised at several inns, including the Cuttlestone.

“I do not know what the Order will ask of me,” said Ember. “Better we make no plans now, lest we be forced to break them later. What will be, will be. Good luck in the duel.”

She patted Hennet on the shoulder. With that, the monk and the dwarf turned and walked into the mass of people on the great avenue. Soon, they were lost from sight.

Nebin nudged his friend, as Hennet watched them go. “We’ll see them again,” he chided. “Come on, or we’ll be late.”

Hennet sighed, returned to his seat, and headed the wagon down the crowded streets of New Koratia.

The sorcerer and the diminutive wizard found a clean-enough barn in New Koratia where they could stable their horses. The rent for keeping their wagon was more than they were willing to pay; Hennet solved the problem by selling it to the stablemaster. With the extra money, they could afford better lodging at the Cuttlestone.

Hennet and Nebin pushed through the crush of people heading toward the Floating Crystal. Without such an obvious landmark, they’d have been hard pressed to find the location of the Duel Arcane. Soon enough they stood at the edge of a large, open space beneath the hovering tower. Nebin could feel the tower’s presence above even while not looking. Despite his wizardly training, his unconscious mind had decided that the building was about to crash down. He didn’t share this feeling with Hennet, who seemed oblivious to the hanging threat.

The clear space was a coliseum. It was open on one end, but the other half was built up in great stone seats, like a half-bowl. The coliseum’s floor was divided into more than a dozen circular areas. Scores of people, most of them in robes, some in outlandish costumes, including one woman with a brilliantly glowing glass cape, congregated across the floor of the coliseum. Some circles contained people who chanted, waved their hands, and occasionally released displays of magical energy.

“The preliminaries have already started!” said Hennet.

The two hurried down to an official-looking elf in bright green robes. The elf, like a few others, had the emblem of a floating tower on his robe. He looked up.

“We’re here to compete in the Duel Arcane, if we are not too late,” said Hennet.

The elf raised an elegant eyebrow, then grinned.

“You fear that you have missed the deadline, yes? Not to worry. Preliminaries conclude today. Are you entering the competition for the Golden Wand? Neither of you is secretly an arcane master masquerading as a novice caster?” He produced a monocle from a silk pouch, brought it to his eye, and squinted at them through it. “No, I would know. Very well, that’s your group.”

The elf pointed toward a gathering near the middle of the coliseum, and Hennet and Nebin wound their way out onto the floor, following the official’s directions. The seats of the coliseum were mostly empty. The preliminaries were not nearly as exciting as the main events of the Duel Arcane. The people in the stands at this early stage would be mostly professional gamblers and bookmakers, trying to pick up every tidbit of information they could on possible winners. Nebin had been told that the main event drew over ten thousand spectators. His stomach fluttered at the thought.

They reached their group, which included an elf woman in a blue tunic holding a wand, a halfling man with a dwarf-like beard, and three humans.

Another official wearing the badge of the floating tower pointed to the elf woman and said, “Follow me, please.”

She paled, but obliged, and was led toward one of the circles.

One of the humans turned and grinned at Nebin. “She shouldn’t be so nervous,” he said. “These are the preliminaries. All we need to do is show magical proficiency.”

The man pointed at a pebble lying near his feet. A ghostly hand appeared, picked up the pebble, and dropped it in one of Nebin’s pockets.

The man laughed and added. “I’m sure we’re all up to that. By the way, my name is Aganon. Aganon Redstone.”

Nebin warmed to the man, who appeared both so friendly and so confident at the same time. A bit like himself, he fancied.

“I am Nebin Raulnor, adept of the Secret Flame.”

“Secret Flame, eh? I haven’t heard of that enchantment.”

Nebin grinned. “Then, watch and learn, my friend!”

The gnome lowered his goggles, then loosed the same spell he had used several days earlier at the Inn of the Fair Warrior. It rarely failed to impress. As before, he created the image of a ball of raging fire. This time, he placed the ball several feet above his head. Phantom sparks rained down, partially cloaking him in fauxfire. He spread his arms wide to promote his own spectacle.

“Ah, see, the Secret Flame responds to my every whim!”

Those standing in the group with Nebin, Aganon, and Hennet studied the floating flame, but quickly turned back to study the field—it was hard to impress a wizard with a wizard’s trick. To Nebin’s satisfaction, Aganon took a step back as if impressed.

“Gnome, I have met my better! Truly, you must be a powerful wizard if you can so easily command so potent a force,” said Aganon, concluding his speech with a slight bow.

Nebin was pleased but suspicious. He could never be certain when humans were being sarcastic; sarcasm was rare in gnomish culture. Before Nebin could offer a rejoinder, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

A Duel Arcane official stood behind Nebin, an open scroll penned with many rules in hand. Nebin let the illusion of the fire fade and pushed his goggles up onto his head.

“Yes? I’m Nebin Raulnor. Am I up?”

The official frowned and said, “The rules of the duel forbid non-competitive casting in the coliseum. It could interfere with the legitimate judging of other competitors. Please explain why I shouldn’t disqualify you right now?”

Nebin hesitated, scrabbling for an explanation.

Melf’s Beard, he thought frantically, I’m going to disqualify myself before I even qualify.

Aganon stepped up. “My new acquaintance was showing me the crucial finale to a heroic story,” he said. “I’m afraid the story wouldn’t have been the same without the visual aid. Surely you won’t ruin such a wonderful tale by ejecting its teller, especially when he’s so talented a wizard.”