The Hedge Wizard

Before they could leave the walls, Hump contacted Overseer Oswald with Distant Whisper to inform him of the new information from Wizard Aldric and get permission to leave. It hadn’t taken any convincing. News had already reached the command tent and they were scrambling to send forces to deal with the infiltration. A few silver rankers like Hump were just what they needed.

Bud left Henrietta in command of the wall, along with the rest of the company. It weakened their position significantly, but they didn’t have much choice. The situation had changed. If they could stop the warlocks, they could potentially disrupt the Red Fog entirely.

If warlocks were directing the fog at the fortress, they had to be stopped.

As they made their way down from the walls, Hump caught the others up on what Wizard Aldric had told him.

Emilia stopped at the top of the stairway leaving down as medics carrying stretchers made their way up. “Surely the Temple of Sanctum should be our priority if the seals are what the warlocks are targeting.”

“I got the impression stronger people than us are seeing to its protection,” Hump said.

“We’ll do whatever they need of us,” Bud said.

They passed a half-dozen soldiers racing up the stairs to reinforce the walls. On the ground, an area had been cleared for the wounded. People lay on stretchers on the ground, screaming and crying out in pain. Hump saw people with mangled flesh where limbs had once been, bite wounds that took entire chunks out of their bodies. One man’s face had half dissolved in acid, an eye entirely melted from his face. It left Hump sick to his stomach. Medics and healers worked to stabilise those that had taken serious injuries, before taking them off elsewhere for further treatment, but many could not be saved.

“Come on,” Celaine said quietly, pulling at his arm.

Hump let her drag him, pushing the sights and sounds from his mind and racing through the streets. Glancing back, Hump looked up at the walls and the Red Fog towering over everything—a wall of mist that obscured the sky. The vicious battle atop the walls seemed dwarfed in comparison.

“I never imagined that warlocks might be capable of manipulating the Red Fog,” Dylan said. “How can such a thing be possible? It’s existed for centuries.”

“At the very least, they’d need a powerful artifact and an equally powerful spell,” Hump said. “Fortunately, I think we’re soon going to find out.”

“You boys get excited about the strangest things,” Emilia said.

“Please don’t lump me in with them,” Bud said. “I just want to slay some demons.”

Emilia snorted. “Well, if it’s an artifact, they may have smuggled it into the city on a ship. It would explain the location.”

“Seems likely,” Hump agreed.

Emilia led the way, acting as guide and scout in the unfamiliar streets. Soon, they caught a glimpse of the Sapphire Docks at the end of a road ahead. Fire blazed on the nearside of the river, a large warehouse caught alight.

Nishari sent Hump an image of the fire through their bond. It was more contained than he’d first thought. She watched them through the balcony window, worried and filled with anxiety. The thought of her alone there opened a hole in his stomach. His gaze moved to the right of the fire, following the river to where their apartment was. It had to be at least half a mile from the docks—she would be safe.

He did his best to reassure her, only for an explosion of essence to erupt over the Temple of Sanctum. A tremor rumbled through the city, as if the earth itself was furious. The essence became thicker, gathering over the temple in a red haze, a storm of power that made Hump feel awe. It was an essence he recognised—not that of a dungeon or the Red Fog, but of a Chosen of Byzantius.

The power prickled on Hump’s skin, sending a chill down his spine. He sensed blood and battle within, calling to him, willing him to join it. The power was as intoxicating as it was terrifying.

“What is that?” Celaine asked.

“That is General Korteg’s blessing, Warlord’s Decree,” Bud said. “This is the power of a seventh circle Chosen in action.”

For a few seconds, all Hump could do was watch. It was a blessing he had heard of since coming to Fort Nordric, granting the user divine authority over the battlefield, imparting the rule of his will upon it, whether that be a zone of silence, enhancement, or any number of other declarations.

Logic returned to Hump. As fascinating as it was, they had work to do. “We should keep moving. Let’s focus on the part of the battle we can influence.”

As they neared the docks, they passed a number of fleeing civilians, along with a number of soldiers guiding the evacuations.

“My lord!” came a shout, and the five of them turned to see a sergeant running over to them.

“What is it, Sergeant?” Bud asked.

“Are you reinforcements?” the man asked.

“That’s right.”

“Sir Darian is leading the search for them. He’s on the west side of the docks, pushing along the river by the market. He’s asked for any reinforcements to be directed that way.”

“Understood. Thank you, sergeant.”

“Of course, sir. Good luck.”

The man returned to his duties while Hump and the others made their way closer. Soon, the sound of shouts reached them, and then they were out of the streets and onto the large road along the river, lined with all sorts of shops, markets, warehouses, taverns, and office buildings. Even during the attack, the river was packed full of ships.

Soldiers moved through the buildings, kicking in doors and searching the buildings within.

“That must be him,” Celaine said, pointing up the road to where a man in armour waited.

Two soldiers left a small shop behind them before making their way to the next. They peered through the windows of a small fishmonger, then checked to find the door locked. One of the men kicked it in, shattering the lock before the two barged inside. Inside, a woman screamed, and a baby started crying.

“Looks like they’ve not found the warlocks yet,” Hump said.

“As if they’d find anyone if they’re looking like this,” Emilia snapped. “Brutish idiots, the lot of them.”

It didn’t take long for them to reach the market. Along the way, Hump directed essence to his eye and activated Spirit Sight. The city came alight with essence. It was almost blinding when he looked toward the walls, but here in the market, it was suspiciously empty.

“There’s a veil in place somewhere nearby,” Hump said. Up ahead, he spotted a group nearby, a few being inquisitors, identifiable by their black wizard robes. A man in expensive looking armour stood nearby that he took to be Sir Darian. Hump deactivated his eye, willing it to return to its normal appearance. “From the looks of them, the inquisitors have figured that much out already.”

The group stood in the market square along with a variety of other soldiers, archers, and possible Chosen. Two of the inquisitors held artifacts in hand, while a third worked on drawing a spell formation on the ground.

“Do you recognise them?” Celaine asked.

“You’re holding it too high again,” the woman drawing the spell formation suddenly shouted. “Lower, damn you! Hold it lower.”

A second inquisitor quickly hunched over, holding a glowing artifact in hand over part of the formation.

“Nope,” Hump said.

“Then we’d better introduce ourselves,” Bud said.

They made their way to where Sir Darian watched over the inquisitors at work with a stern frown. The man turned as he heard them approach. He was a stocky man with a long, well-groomed moustache. With his blonde hair and armour, he looked a lot like Bud after a couple of decades of too much wine and feasting.

“Sir Darian, I presume,” Bud said. “We’re here to help on orders of Wizard Aldric. I am Robert of Blackthorne.”

“Blackthorne? The Frost Knight? We’ll be glad to have you. We’ve not found the bastards yet, but we will. Mark my words.”

“What’s the situation?” Bud asked.

“The Inquisition has identified the dock area as the source of a strange essence signature, whatever that means. Not that those wand fiddlers could narrow it down to anything useful. I’ve got my men scouring every filthy, dilapidated building in the area while Inquisitor Hartlen draws pictures on the ground.”

He raised his voice for that last part, ensuring the inquisitors could hear.

Hump gave Celaine a look and rolled his eyes—seemed they’d found a Chosen not too fond of wizards.

“Keep talking and this will take longer,” said the woman as she continued to scribe runes on the ground. She was a tall woman with a long face that made her look bored even in a situation like this.

“Apologies. I shall continue to stand here in silent anticipation.” Darian’s voice leaked sarcasm with every word.

Hump took a moment to look over the spell formation—it was far too complicated for him to decipher it, but he understood enough of the runes to figure out its purpose. She was trying to pierce the warlock veil and pinpoint the essence source. It seemed she was still a way off from finishing as the Book of Infinite Pages didn’t record it.

“Sir Darian,” Bud said, drawing the man’s attention back to him. “My party will join the search. Where have your men already been?”

The man gave him a frown. “No need for that, lad. You just wait here with me, and we’ll smoke these rats out. Leave the searching to the grunts.”

Hump saw the angry twitch in Bud’s brow. “No. Waiting was never my thing.”

“Then do as you wish. Happy hunting.” Darian made a dismissive wave with his hand and turned back to the inquisitors. “Why are you scribbling that part out again?” he snapped.

The woman let out an exasperated sigh.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, Hump stepped away from the group and discreetly activated his eye again, careful not to let anyone see it. Being able to see the essence of the world didn’t help him to pinpoint the source of the essence in the area, but he could see the one place where it didn’t seem to gather. With it so thick in the air, it was almost too easy to spot the blank spot underground. His Spirit Sight couldn’t penetrate it, and there was only one reason he could think of for that.

“I think I’ve found it.” Hump pointed to a small alley across the market square, leading away from the river. “It’s beneath those buildings over there.”

The others followed his finger to a row of shops and a small tavern called the Seaman’s Stop. It looked like a grim, rundown place that only the shadiest of sailors might visit.

Bud looked at Hump. “Your eye is looking strange again.”

Hump winked at him, making no effort to hide it from his friend. “I’m a dragon blooded heretic these days.”

“Not sure that’s something you should brag about,” Bud said, looking around nervously. He leant in closer. “It makes you look like a demon.”

Celaine gave Hump a look. “Maybe a little. I kind of like it.”

“You do, do you?” Hump asked with a confident smirk.

She grinned. “Looks dangerous.”

“Could we save the flirting until after the battle?” Dylan asked. “As adorable as it is.”

“Yes,” Emilia said. “Sounds like we have a lead. Let’s hurry up and use it.”

“One moment,” Bud said, turning back to where Sir Darian continued to interrupt the inquisitors. “Sir Darian, enough of this. You are to join the search.”

The man blinked at him. “I’ll give you a chance to adjust your tone.”

Bud took a step closer, meeting the man’s eyes, looking down at him from his height. “I am taking command of this operation.”

“I am the Guard Commander of the Sapphire Docks!” the man protested. “A duty granted to me by none other than Count Daston.”

“Then feel free to lodge a complaint. I’m sure he’d be most interested in hearing why his Guard Commander stood by doing nothing while warlocks threatened the city. Join the search or leave, but if you intrude on the inquisitor’s search for a moment more, you shall have me to deal with.”

The man’s face turned red as a cherry. He drew in a deep, furious breath, then let it out with a humph, shoulder barging past Bud and down the road, quickly disappearing down a side street.

“Who’s second in command of the guard?” Bud asked.

“That would be me, sir,” a woman said. She was a broad woman in her thirties. She wore a chainmail vest with the white and yellow tabard of Fort Nordric over the top. “My name is Winfrey Forlar, Chosen of Avaroth.”

“Catch me up on the situation. What has been searched so far, and what direction have you been given?”

The woman recounted their orders for the last hour. Turned out, the fire in the warehouse nearby was due to them rather than any warlocks—an accident involving candles. They’d been working their way along the docks, instructed to search every building and question the occupants inside. It was a waste of time.

“Abandon the questioning. Continue the search for buildings and focus attention on anything with a cellar. The warlocks are likely using tunnels.”

“Understood.”

The woman got to work immediately, calling for three nearby soldiers and passing on instructions to the rest of the men.

“Thank you for that,” the inquisitor said. “I’ll inform you if we have any success.”

Bud nodded. “As will I. We’re going to join the search.”

They stepped away from the gathering.

“That was aggressively dealt with,” Emilia said.

“He wasn’t helping. Better he leaves than continue to get in the way.”

“Agree,” Hump said. “I couldn’t stand the man. It’s about time we actually start searching.”

“Why don’t we start with the tavern.” Emilia pointed and the Seaman’s Stop. “Looks like just the sort of place to have a smuggling den or some other nefarious tunnel underneath it.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Hump said. “And it’s close enough to the blank spot. It’s a good fit. You want to let Sir Darian know what we’re doing?”

Bud looked his way just as he shouted at one of the wizards for standing too close. “No. Let’s do this our way.”

There was a strangeness to the tavern as they entered. Seven people sat alone at different tables, all turning to look at them as they entered. Hump saw nervousness in their eyes and noticed a few short blades at their hips.

A woman stepped out from behind the bar, a stained apron that would have once been white covering her dress. She bowed her head respectfully and addressed Bud. “Is there anything I can assist you with, my lord?”

The people around all stared at the woman, glaring at her back in a way that made Hump uncomfortable. All of them had put down their drinks now and seemed entirely focused on the conversation.

“We need to look around,” Bud said, stepping into the room.

“Of course,” the woman said. “Is there anything specific that you’re looking for. There’s nothing to hide here.” She glanced nervously at the people around the tavern.

Bud smiled. “I understand completely. Why don’t you step outside while we look around?”

“It would be best if you leave,” one of the men said, standing from his chair. He wore heavy canvas trousers and a hard worn jacket.

“And who might you be?” Bud asked.

“A loyal customer.”

“Must be very loyal to still be here during a raid. Sit down and let us look around.”

“You don’t understand,” the man said. “P-please, just leave.”

Hump narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t the nervous voice of a man trying to keep a place hidden—that was fear.

“Bud,” Hump said. “I think—”

Suddenly, essence filled the shop. Runes activated on its walls, its roof, and by the door, sealing them inside. A veil wrapped around the building, closing them in like a second layer of walls. The scrape of chairs filled the room as the loitering men and women collapsed, screaming on the ground, clutching at their heads in agony, their entire bodies writhing.

“You made a mistake coming here, lordling,” the barmaid sneered, her voice twisted into something inhuman.

The people’s screams grew louder. Their backs arched, bodies stretching unnaturally. Hump heard bones crack. Then the screams stopped. The head of the closest man split down the middle, peeling apart like a blossoming flower, revealing four mad eyes. His body bulged, becoming bloated, as if he were about to burst. Blood and flesh exploded from his arms, splattering across the ground like minced meat as strange tentacle-like appendages sprouted from his elbows. He rose to his feet just as the same transformation happened to the others, until seven monstrous beings stood before them.

“What did you do?” Bud whispered, horrified. He stormed toward her, drawing his sword. “What did you do?” he shouted.

Before he could reach her, one of the creatures threw itself at him, trying to wrap its tendril arms around Bud. Bud screamed and fell back, his eyes wide in horror as he let it fall upon him. He tried to keep it back but didn’t stab it with his sword.

Dylan’s quarterstaff shone with the essence of Growth, suddenly elongating and striking what had once been a man and sending it flying back. He pulled Bud to his feet and stood before him, facing the woman.

“They are lost,” Hump said. “The woman killed them. Now we must put them out of this misery.”

“Gods curse you,” Bud snarled at the woman. “Hell awaits you.”

The woman laughed. The room stirred with a gentle breeze as she released essence in a steady stream, spreading out around her like tendrils of miasma. She took a red wand from her belt with a ruby coloured heartstone at its base.

“The gods hold no sway over me,” she hissed. Her essence changed. The breeze in the room became violent as her aura expanded, blazing like a raging fire. Essence leaked from her body uncontrollably, rich with the darkness that came from a corrupted soul, cold and crawling against Hump’s skin. Her face changed, contorting around the nose and brow, becoming thick with wrinkles. Her bones protruded from her face, her lips curled back, revealing sharpened teeth.

The woman whipped her wand in their direction.

A cold wind shot through the room even before the spell was unleashed. The woman’s essence twisted before her, condensing into a translucent orb of power. “Burz Gul,” she barked, her voice resonating with the dark language.

Hump slammed his staff against the ground. “Shield.”

A barrier formed before them, blocking off the area directly ahead of them just as the woman’s spell struck. His Shield erupted with light as raw power struck him. He braced against it, but it blasted him from his feet, sending him stumbling back into the wall behind him with devastating strength.

He leant against it, staring at the woman in surprise. She was strong. Strong enough that they needed to be cautious.