Songs of the Silver Wizard

COMPENDIUM

“Beside the water, under the moon, magic fills those who approach full of naught but gloom.”

“Master, isn’t the world most dangerous under the full moon?”

“Of course it is! I never said being a wizard was easy.”

“To arms! Form ranks. Spears in front, archers behind. Antonia, cover the right flank!” Even as Stephinius issued his orders, Bowlorn charged headlong toward the oncoming sound of cavalry, horns already sprouting forth, legs bulging, and bear-like war cry bellowing. Thaddeus was surprised to see Antonia already whipping her remaining vampires into position without a hint of retort. She was not one to idly take commands, yet here she was.

With a flourish of his staff, Thaddeus conjured an orb of light, enough to illuminate the coming night, before taking his position behind the line of spear-armed wardens.

“Tighten the line.”

“Level spears.”

“Keep the shields overlapped.”

“Knock on my signal.”

The commands went up and down the line without a hint of waiver or panic. Even the great and ancient hosts of Anuminorian would have gifted a mountain of dwarven gold for such resolve. Thaddeus wondered how long such discipline would last against a charge of heavy horse? Not long, he imagined, not long very long at all, but what else could be expected from mortal men?

He trotted Bob up and down between the spears and bows. The entire organization took no more than five minutes, utterly unheard of in Thaddeus’s experience. He wondered what Stephinius might do with a host of ten or fifty thousand, not just the few hundred wardens that remained. If all went well, Thaddeus would give him that chance.

If.

“Steady.”

All around the forest the galloping intensified. Screams erupted from the darkness then promptly silenced, no doubt Bowlorn making first contact with their approaching foe.

Their dented silver armor reflected the mage light hanging above the road as the host appeared through the breaks in the trees. The smell came next–no man nor woman nor orc nor dwarf was immune to the fears of battle and their bodies reacted accordingly. If the horses reached the line, no matter how brave their soldiers may be, many would fall, skulls and chests smashed inwards. There was no shame in it, Thaddeus and any good captain knew. Bob stamped the ground impatiently. The mage light flashed again, carefully crafted by the wizard as to blind the charging enemy while not glaring their own lines. Stephinius gave him a nod of approval at that, before reading his archers. They both knew it was critical to disrupt the charge.

Thaddeus gathered his magic again—the best course of strategic action was to summon forth ice from the dewy and dank forest ground. It might cost him mightily, but it was preferably to a crushed chest. He’d have to pray no more Djinns made an appearance. A whine went up from his steady mount, his friend. Thaddeus would have to have a chat with the horse later. Such a warning was not necessary with the danger so clearly at hand. He waited until the first line of horses fully crossed beyond the treeline before channeling his strength into his now raised staff. A war cry went up from the spearmen, a cry of death.

In the echo Bob reared, nearly bucking him. And Thaddeus realized then, halfway in the air, that he owed the horse many, many sugar cubes.

The banner fluttering at the head of the horse was not one of an enemy; it was that of Ravinar.

“Halt!”

Thaddeus’s enhanced voice bellowed across the battlefield, louder than any warhorse or scream. In the last moment, he altered the spell, slowing time between the two forces. Spurned forth by his own sense of self-righteousness, Bob hurdled the line of spears. Hanging in the air, staff aloft, Thaddeus imagined he struck quite a heroic image. That was when Bob’s front hooves met the ground again and he lost his hat.

“Halt! Halt!”

Despite everyone within the bubble moving in slow motion, Thaddeus saw comprehension dawn in both the eyes of bow-armed wardens and onrushing horses. He broke the spell and all drew to a halt. As everyone settled into still ranks, Thaddeus wondered how many lives might be saved across the world if they took an extra moment to look each other in the eye before the heat of battle truly took over. It was a thought he decided to unpack later over a very, very strong ale.

A man-at-arms with a caged helm leaped from the back of the horse nearest where Bob canted to a halt the Red Lion crest of Rannia emblazoned on his padded armor. “Of all the columns to charge into! Forgive us in our ignorance Silver Wizard, but we must swiftly combine our strength–”

Thaddeus held up a hand. He sniffed. Something was wrong on the air. He bent his neck forward, examining closely. “Wait, weren’t you just a yeoman archer less than a quarter moon ago?” Thaddeus turned his head as the man gave a humble bow. “It is you! Gods above and below I knew the council in Rannia were inept but still this is quite something,” Thaddeus said with a bellowing laugh.

The nearest knight sauntered forward and drew his sword. “Careful now wizard, Captain Hugo is a right hero.”

“Oi he fought fine to be sure, but I was on the walls right there with him. If that’s all it takes to earn a captaincy well…” His voice trailed off at the look of confusion both on the knight and Hugo. An awkward silence ensued.

“Surely word has reached you, has it not, Wise Wizard?” The knight said.

“Word of what?” Thaddeus said, quickly. Bob’s ears fluttered.

“Rannia has fallen.” It was Hugo, Captain Hugo, who spoke with much sorrow. “The Council betrayed the city and declared for Orthinix. There is dark magic afoot in our home. Very dark magic. It pursues us even now. This is Captain Gurthard of the Household Guard.”

Captain Gurthard bowed. He was a broad shouldered man who wore a heavy bastard sword slung over his back. “Hugo here led the retreat of those still loyal. Those of us whose honor remains worth more than gold stand before you now, but time is of the essence.”

“Forgive me for my indiscretion, the day has been long and our progress has been hard fought,” Thaddeus said, and much to his surprise found himself quite ashamed. He was not used to feeling such heat in his cheeks.

“It is forgiven, but now I must beg you. Once again we must liberate our home. I beg you oh wise wizard. Help us and all the power of Rannia will be at your disposal.”

Thaddeus rubbed his temple; things grew evermore complicated. He had hoped they could sneak in and deal with Orthinix directly with the help of only a small band, but that seemed more foolish by the moment. A detour to Rannia might delay them further but provide gold, soldiers, and a place to rest. The visage of the gold-cloaked councilman flashed in his mind’s eye. He lifted his face to the sky, eyes closed as he juggled the options and basked in the light.

Hmm. Thaddeus’s orb had decayed, replaced by the light of the full moon. In that moment, the blackened and burnt hands of fear gripped the fibers of his heart, threatening to burst the humble sack of meat beating in his chest.

“Form up, form up!” Thaddeus yelled frantically, and Stephinius, ever bless him, took command of their new company without question. I’m a fool, a damned fool. As if in response, a howl came from deep in the forest and Bowlorn burst forth, flecks of blood streaming from a long gash in his animal torso.

On Bowlorn’s heels came another host of gaunt figures dressed in nothing but torn and muddy trousers. They stayed in the shadows of the trees until one came forward. Scars lined his chest and face and Thaddeus was certain if he examined the man closer there would be many missing bits of flesh. He had no desire to conduct such an examination.

“Ahh how delightful. How truly delightful this night has become.”

The newcomer leaned against the tree looking as annoyed as a bard in a barracks. His face was a deathly shade of grey that blended into the long shaggy beard. Eyes of deepest yellow disappeared beneath an unkempt mane that jutted out at odd, unkempt angles.

"Evermore delightful for me, it seems." Antonia stepped forward from her position on the flank.

“I knew I smelled you, Antonia. Shame you’ll have to die so far away from your Da.”

As Gavool stepped into the moonlight, he extended an arm that turned slowly into claws, and with a single bound, the lord of the werewolves and his minions fell upon Thaddeus’s host.

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A/N:

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