Tonight's update posted from my iPod, so hopefully it formats correctly.
-LurkingWolf
___
Nathan was waiting a single bend of the hallway away from the door when Balrog
emerged, shaking his head in clear disagreement with his commander’s antics.
The wolf scowled in return, but softened a bit. Having time to think about
what had happened was clearly wearing through his resolve.
“What are you thinking, Nathan?” the mage asked, rapidly closing the distance
to his commander. “We need to help Lois as quickly as possible. If the magic
already has a foothold in his mind then there is no telling how long we have
until he is beyond our help. There are risks, but some risks must be taken.”
“I do not argue that, I am trying to protect you. I do not need to know much
about magic to realize that this spell you are discussing would require a lot
of power.” He waited to let his point drift home, his tail sliding against the
stones of the adjacent wall. “I know that you cannot cast powerful spells
while maintaining your illusions. There is enough tension in that room without
you revealing your secret.”
“With all due respect, everything was rather calm until you had your outburst,
sir.” The use of the title was as much for shock value as for actual respect.
Although their respective ranks entitled Nathan to some amount of respect,
Nathan had never insisted on any sort of title and Balrog never used one. “I
do appreciate the concern, but you have already revealed your own secret. To
insist on keeping my own out of fear would be selfish.”
Shaking his head, the wolf nevertheless conceded the point. “All right,” he
muttered. “I do not think it wise, but I know you well enough to realize that
convincing you to abandon this folly is beyond hope. Rest assured, I will be
prepared to intervene should things get out of control.”
“Don’t,” Balrog insisted. “There may be shock, and weapons may be drawn, but I
believe that these people are level-headed enough to keep their cool long
enough to hear an explanation before decapitating me.”
Nathan chuckled at the darkly humorous exaggeration, leaning his head back
against the wall and pointing his muzzle towards the ceiling. “You had best
hope that your theory is correct,” he commented. “I don’t think I need to tell
you that any one of them could easily kill you.”
“You assume that I would reveal myself without immediately erecting the
strongest defensive spells I know,” he quipped, giving a sly wink. “A simple
steelskin spell will at least slow a hasty blade.”
For the first time in the course of the conversation the black wolf gave a
genuine smile and a wag of his tail. “I worry far too much about you, it
seems,” he admitted.
“As one friend to another, I would not have it any other way.” Balrog gave
Nathan a playful punch to the shoulder. “Just don’t go stirring up unnecessary
drama in the future. Remember, it’s more likely that I’ll save your life in a
fight than the opposite.”
“You save me, old man?” Nathan scoffed, giving an exaggerated roll of his eyes.
“I’ll remind you of that after I’m finished prying Lucy off of your face in
five minutes.”
Balrog chuckled and turned back towards the closed door to the meeting chamber.
“Come on; if you’re going to be rescuing me from militant children in a few
moments we had best start by provoking their ire.”
Nathan followed dutifully behind his friend, his amused smile momentarily
disguising his concern. He hoped that Balrog was right, but he would not be
caught off guard if the opposite proved true. He briefly held the grip of one
of his weapons, feeling the familiar texture of the decoratively carved wood,
but released it after only a moment. He would honor Balrog’s request unless
the situation truly spun out of control.
***
The return of the two soldiers from the hallway found the remaining Keepers
already deep into the task of discussing the appropriate spell for their use.
Balrog entered first, but all eyes were on the wolf behind him as the two of
them entered.
“I want to apologize for my outburst,” he apologized. “I merely wish to advise
caution as we proceed. The last thing we need is for a spell to go wrong and
create even more serious problems. If you feel prepared to proceed, I will
defer to your better judgment.”
“In manners of magic, it is often wiser to defer to the mages,” Lucy snarked in
reply. Immediately growing more serious, she nodded to the wolf. “I
appreciate the apology. I suppose it is as likely my fault as anyone else’s.
If I hadn’t come here so early this morning we could all have enjoyed a little
more sleep and avoided such tension.”
A few nervous chuckles were the only response to her suggestion, but it still
represented significant progress towards deflating the tension in the room.
Balrog stepped forward.
“What have you decided so far?” he asked, making an effort to quickly change
the subject.
“The spell itself I can create on my own with little problem, but actually
casting it may be another issue,” Lucy replied. “Any way I think about it, I
cannot see any manner in which it would not require a massive investment of
power. While a fetish stone simply completes what the Curse already started,
our efforts would be attempting to fight against the Curse. While I could
postulate that the countercurse might help a little bit, we still have to
contend with the fact that Lois is evidently not doing anything to aid our
efforts.”
Balrog nodded his understanding while looking about the room. “I suppose that
our efforts would be aided by an enchantment of some sort?”
Lucy nodded. “For safety if nothing else,” she confirmed. “I should be able
to draw the lines myself, but it may take quite some time. I don’t suppose
either of you would be able to help in such an effort?”
Julian shook his head as he responded, “No. I am a battlemage, nothing more.
While I could perhaps sketch some rudimentary enchantments for myself, I hardly
feel that I would supply any help to anything of this scale.”
“Fortunately, I do have experience with enchantments,” Balrog replied. “As a
matter of fact…”
His hesitation was more than enough to tell Nathan what was coming. He
stretched as he felt the nervous tension trying to lock up his neck. While he
had promised Balrog that he would not intervene unless it was vital, he still
made a point to put himself in an advantageous position. If things did
snowball out of control, he did not want to be caught out of position.
The hesitation also drew the eyes of everyone in the room, which was likely
Balrog’s intention. He was clearly feeling the tension as well, but as a man
who was so often faced with the need to diffuse situations gracefully he
remained composed regardless.
“There is one thing I have told very few people which I feel should be revealed
to you now so that it does not cause problems later. Nathan already knows
this, but this is a secret that I have trusted only to a select few people who
I would call friends.” He walked a few steps so that he stood at the center of
the room. “I will warn you in advance that this revelation can be shocking, so
I hope you will respect my trust in you by controlling your reactions.”
Before anyone could question his words he made a single gesture, and cut the
flow of magic that constantly fed the illusions around his body. While a few
of the scars that marked the skin through his illusions still marred the true
off-green hue of his skin, quite a few of them morphed and coalesced into a
miasma of interconnected runes that ran the length of each arm, around the back
of his neck up onto the dome of his bald head, where the lines joined to into a
single, intricate sigil on his forehead. As the magic left them, the runes
died from a radiant blue glow to show that every runes had been sketched by a
knife, the scars arranged with remarkable precision across his skin.
To those watching the important change was that the human man that had been
working with them for more than a day changed utterly, showing that beneath an
expertly woven illusion stood a lutin. Lutins were hardly an uncommon sight
for them, but this was the first time in many years that Alex and Lucy had met
a lutin that was not actively trying to kill them.
To their credit, Julian was the only one whose blade emerged from his scabbard
with a harsh whisper of steel against leather. While Nathan immediately placed
himself between the moondog and the lutin, it was Alex who halted his
companion’s actions.
“Julian, stay your blade!” The moondog leveled a glare at him.
“He’s a lutin, he’s the enemy!” He remained rooted where he stood, however,
and made no move towards the lutin.
“He is a friend. He has neither threatened us nor made a move to attack, and
he revealed himself of his own will. Stand down!”
“What of the war, sir?” Julian hissed.
“Our war is against Nasoj and his scum, not lutins,” Alex replied. He took a
breath to calm himself before continuing. “I realize that you have missed some
recent events due to your recent escape from the North, but Metamor has begun
to foster alliances with the lutins. Times are changing; you cannot simply
attack a man because of his appearance.
“Thank you for your vote of confidence, sir,” Balrog said, nodding to the lynx.
It was clear in a moment that his voice had not been modified by illusion at
all. The gruffness was still there, but so was the impeccable understanding of
Common speech. He took a deep breath and played with his beard, another part
of the illusion that proved genuine. “To tell the truth, I have been living
among your people for far longer than the peace accords. I am nearing my
twentieth year of living among humans, and I have never regretted it.”
Lucy approached him slowly, her focus solely on the enchantment that the lutin
had sketched into his own flesh. Balrog permitted her inspection, even helped
her by showing her the marks on his arms.
“These are scars,” she said. She looked appalled. “Did you do this yourself?”
The lutin nodded. “All shamans of my tribe are heavily tattooed in this
fashion, and it is considered a mark of weakness to allow another man to mark
your skin for you. The process took me three days. My predecessors have
attempted to do it in one night before, but many are the stories of those who
died in the attempt, or were driven mad by the pain.” He smirked. “Also, few
are those who have attempted to weave an enchantment over their own bodies as
they worked.”
Lucy shook her head. “How? I mean, your arms perhaps I can understand, but
your neck? Your head?”
Balrog winced. “That was another reason for the length of the effort. I was
forced to use magic to sketch those lines. To do so without wavering while
using magic and in pain was hardly a simple matter. As you can see, however, I
was successful.”
Lucy crossed her arms and shook her head as she marveled at the complexity of
the enchantment. “Well, you can say whatever you will about him, but whether
he’s a man, a lutin, or a werewolf, I would kill for a hand that steady.”
She got a chuckle from most of the room. Even Julian finally relaxed enough to
slide his blade back home in its sheath, although he did so with clear
hesitation. Still, Balrog nodded to him gratefully, a nod which was returned
with honesty despite Julian’s hesitance.
Nathan continued laughing for a few moments after the others had stopped.
“Well, I was expecting quite a bit more trouble than that,” he admitted as he
made a clear show of removing his paws from his weapons. “I will admit that I
was quite a bit more difficult to reason with at first than any of you, Julian
included. Of course, the Keep had not yet been making open alliances with the
tribes, but that is neither here nor there.”
A few more chuckles responded to this admission, and there was at last some
semblance of peace in the room once more. There was tension, understandably
more than before the revelation, but it was nothing that could not be worked
through. Considering the difficulty of the effort that awaited them, however,
even a little tension could derail their efforts.
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