The echo of thunder could be heard from the local inn of boarder town but none of the guests in the dining area could hear it or the door opening. Though it was a dining area, it mainly served as a second bar when the others had become full. The inn rarely ever had guests so the patrons were usually residents consisting of thieves, thugs, mercenaries, dungeon crawlers and whatever scum resided in the town. Most of them were too busy to notice the door to the inn opening and the mysterious stranger entering.
He wore red and green robes with the hood over his eyes and carried a staff. The inn keeper who was working as waiter walked up to him. "Rooms are filled. You might have better luck finding some shelter under a tree."
The figure pulled back the hood to reveal a glowing tinge in his eyes and replied. "I'm not here for a room. I'm looking for a wizard."
"There ain't none of them damned spell-casters here." the inn keeper replied. "If it's a wizard, if it's a wizard you're looking for. You should have stayed at that cursed school of yours." the bartender chuckled at his own joke. The figure didn't pay attention and walked passed the inn keeper and entered the dining area.
The patrons of the pub chattered as he walked past them, some stopped and took a look at the new visitor but he paid them no mind as he walked towards the side of the bar that was empty save for one individual, a man dressed in blue robes, his hair once fine and cared for, now scruffy, his boots had mud on the bottom and his skin, once tanned now starting to fade. The robed figure sat down next to him and spoke. "I never thought I'd see the day when I would find you here, of all places."
The man didn't reply but simply stared dull eyed at the goblet of ale in front of him. The robed figure now shouted that startled the other patrons. "Regas!"
The man finally snapped to and looked at his visitor. "Shamiil? Shamiil! Oh man oh it's been ages. He stumbled from his chair and embraced Shamiil who became who became surprised and uttered. "You stink. how much have you had?" Regas released him and went back to his chair and pondering, held out an awkward looking talon with all fingers and sputtered "Thiss this many. plus that other one."
"I can tell." Shamiil replied. "But you stink of something else. Like the smell in professor Jenra's potion room. You've been out in the woods haven't you?"
Regas began laughing at his own thoughts. "Gotta make a livin' somehow. So what if I make potions for people." He leaned over to Shamiil and tried to whisper but ended up talking out loud regardless. "You wouldn't know of anyone who's in need of some invisibility potions at all cause I just made a batch this morning."
"Like I would trust you with potions." Shamiil responded. "The last time I took an invisibility potion from you, my skin turned purple for 3 days!"
"Oh I was just having fun." Regas scoffed and chuckled and started to sway back and forth while in a pondering pose. "If I remember correctly, you always hated Professor Jenra's potion making class."
"Shamiil rolled his eyes and continued. "Well I'm not here to purchase potions. I'm here because-" before he could finish, the inn keeper who was delivering a pitcher of ale tripped on Shamiil's staff and hit the ground with a hard thud, the platter hit the ground with a loud clang and all the patrons stopped and stared, they didn't stare at the inn-keeper but rather the pitcher of ale that was now suspended in the air and glowed with a soft light. The patrons began to stare at the source, Shamiil, with his hood over his eyes held his hand towards the pitcher and was chanting silently. The only sound that could be heard was the inn-keeper getting back up and cautiously and carefully grabbing the pitcher. Once he did, Shamiil stopped chanting and turned back to Regas who managed to control his swaying and seemed to have sobered up from the sight.
"So." Regas now able to clearly think and sat back. "You became a mystic."
"And an illusionist." Shamiil replied, dancing a coin on his finger then grabbing and opening his hand to show nothing was there. "But that's besides the point. I have a proposition for you." He took out a folded up parchment and unfolded. The parchment was covered with runes and writings. "I found this while looking through the archives. It's Halseth's final parchment.
"Yeah, I know. We all had to read it. It's how the graduates learn Halseth's final spell."
"Not just that." Shamiil replied. "look here. at the final part."
Regas peered at the final part of the writings. "And to you fellow Wizard, I leave to you my weapon and my legacy." the final part was the runes which one had to learn Halseth's final spell, the elemental blast which was a devastating multi-elemental spell that was only taught to graduate students at the university while under strict watch of the professors who taught it. Regas managed to remember one graduates account of having to sit at a small desk with this scroll in a small rune covered room for hours while the professor stood behind him.
"Well?" Shamiil started. "What do you think?"
"I think I see why you became a mystic of all things." Regas smirked and began rocking back and forth again. "That field had a knack for attracting and producing crazies."
"That's what I meant." Shamiil replied.
Regas pondered and then answered. "I still think you're crazy. Besides everyone pretty much knows that Halseth meant his spell when he talked about his weapon.
"Then what is his legacy?" Shamiil shot back.
Regas actually had to think for a moment at the question but finally came with an answer. "His writings, his history of helping found the university."
"That's what I thought too." Shamiil replied. "But then I remembered. Before the school. The only way for a wizard to pass down his spells was to take on apprentices. Remember? Wizards of Halseth's time taught and passed down their spells to their pupils."
"So?" Regas scoffed again.
"So?" Shamiil spoke up. "His spell is his legacy that he passed down. Meaning that the weapon must be something else. You remember that story we heard as first years about Halseth's staff. That he put his final spell in it. Think about it. A staff with such a power."
Regas started to seriously consider the possibility but then shook his head. "That story was made by the teachers and told to first years to inspire the first years and to drive out the idiots who would make the Mystics look bad."
"What about this?" Shamiil pointed to the large set of runes at the bottom of the parchment.
"What are you daft?" Regas replied, and started swaying back and forth. "Those are the runes for the spell. Fire, Ice and Lightning."
"How about now?" Shamiil asked. He held out his hand above the runes as if to turn a lock, three of his fingers glowed a different color. He turned his hand to the right and he spoke "fire." one of the runes began to glow and he turned his hand now to the left and spoke "Ice." and a second glow and with a final turn to the right he spoke "Lightning." and the runes began to glow bright. The letters and runes began to move on the pages until it wasn't Halseth's final writing but now resembled a map. The site had sobered up Regas who's jaw now hung from his mouth.
"Still think I'm crazy?" Shamiil asked with a smile.
Regas couldn't believe what he had seen. The sobering experience knocked the senses out of him. "What do I think?" He replied. "I think we need drinks."
Several hours had passed and now the only patrons left were Regas and Shamiil who were laughing and discussing of their past. Enough time had passed for Regas to sober up some and for Shamiil to lighten up and order a few. "So." Regas asked. "How long till you graduate?"
"One more year." Shamiil replied. "I've already procured a place at the guild hall in one of the towns."
"Ah." Regas replied. "What about Jamseh and Lelles."
"Lelles is enjoying your position as battle mage for the garrison. He barely has to do any work, gets paid more than enough to not do much work. It should have been your position you know." Shamiil pointed out.
"That was before what happened last year." Regas interrupted. "What about Jamseh?"
Shamiil paused and then answered. "Jamseh... was expelled. Shortly after you left." Regas was struck by the news. He had known Jamseh who had proven to be a powerful conjurer and summoner. Shamiil continued. "There were reports of grave robbing near the area. Someone had been digging up the graves and stealing the bodies. They did a search of the dorms and found "parts" in his room. He had been practicing Necromancery. That was those sounds we had heard late in the evening. But look, enough about the past. What matters is now. Think about it. If we find this weapon, you could be reinstated into the university, even get that battlemage position. Well?"
Regas pondered for a moment. "Well, the best way to seal the deal is with drinks. Barkeep! Two more rounds." The innkeeper brought two glasses. Regas took one and handed the other to Shamiil. They both downed the glasses. Shamiil began to talk about something but then felt groggy. He tried to recall how many he had, he knew it couldn't have been at most three drinks. He started swaying back and forth and blinked. When his eyes opened, he was alone in the bar with the inn keeper standing over him.
"I've warned him before about doing that." the innkeeper gruffed.
"What? What do you mean?" Shamiil managed to ask, trying to clear his head.
"He usually slips something into someone's drink. Usually an angry adventurer or a customer who wanted their money back cause a potion they used backfired. knocks them out for a couple of hours. I won't ask you to pay for your drinks seeing as how the last ones couldn't pay for theirs as well."
Shamiil began feeling for his gold pouch and couldn't find it, but he was shocked when he noticed that the scroll he brought with him was missing aswell. He ran to the door and peered outside. The road was dead quiet in the night.
Regas tossed his new gold pouch up and down before placing it into one of the inner pockets in his robes. He patted the folded up parchment in his chest walked toward the back part of the town. The houses started looking more like shacks and the farther he stumbled through the streets, the more dilapidated and scarce the houses became until finally he stood infront of what once was a nice looking home but now fell into disarray. He opened the door and the strong scent from inside caused the contents of his stomach to come back up. He kicked dirt around the vomit and walked inside once he got used to the strong smells that came from the clusters of potions that dotted the room. Some of the potions had descriptions on them. Others were labled simply "Healing" or "Night vision." A few simply had a skull and cross-bone on their label. He took a vial that read "For hangovers." on it, took a swig of it before falling into his bed and drifting to sleep.
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