"Battlemage"
“Time to get up, you lazy morons! Can’t you tell? Your alarm went off thirty seconds ago, why are you still in bed?”
Talin pulled himself from his bed with a groan and stumbled off towards the showers. Managing to scrub himself while in a stupor, he let the steam roll over him. As always, it did nothing to help him wake up. He was jolted forcefully awake by the sudden stream of cold water.
“I said it was time to get up, not to relax! If you wanted a nice, warm, cozy life, you shouldn’t have joined the army!” The sergeant stood next to the water heater, clearly enjoying the frantic attempts of his troops to shut off the freezing showers.
Painfully awake now, Talin hurriedly got dressed. Pulling on his camouflage and heavy combat boots, the elf covered his diminutive five-foot-four inch frame. Not that camouflage was too important anyway; it was just in case his magic failed. Only stopping a moment to visit the latrine, he rushed back to the bunkhouse. Today’s assignment was no drill. None were anymore, not with the war.
There, everyone else was gearing up for battle. Guns were loaded and cocked, ammunition and grenades gathered, and the troop lined up. Talin grabbed nothing save an army cap to cover his short auburn hair. A battlemage had no need for mundane weapons.
The sergeant inspected each of the ten soldiers critically. “Carissa, you may be captain, but how do you expect to survive out there without a helmet? Go get one, you idiot! Aidan! I’ve told you a thousand times to never hold your gun that way! It will be hell for you tonight, if you manage to stay alive. Josey! What…”
The commander continued his harsh analysis, finding fault with everyone but Talin; to him he merely nodded. “You know your duty.” The elf bowed slightly. He knew his own worth; members of the Order of the Flameheart did not come cheaply.
Handpicked and specially trained in the finest battle academy in the world, those of the Order were invaluable to the small strike teams that complemented the army.
“Today is the real thing, people. The fighting will be real, the excitement real, and the death extremely real. You know it, you’ve done it before.” The dwarf tugged his dark beard and glared at them with sharp eyes as he began his customary speech. Despite the veteran status of his group, he had repeated himself everyday since the first. Everyone one of them knew his words by heart. “Should any of you die, I would be very… put out.”
Talin did well to hide his smile. The dwarf was gruffer than a badger, but like most of his race, he had a soft underside. If even one of his guys or gals was injured, he’d break down. He would likely end up sick with worry just waiting for them.
“Josey, what the devil…”
After telling-off the halfling again for some minor offense, he continued briefing them. “Our reports tell of at least one enemy magic user. That’s where you come in Talin.” Talin bowed again; barely inclining his head.
“No problem, sir.”
“It better not be. That is your job. Look around you. All these people here? Their lives depend on you.” Talin glanced around solemnly, hiding his nonchalance. His family could trace their bloodline directly back one thousand years to Tamoras Flamecry himself. Though the world had changed beyond belief since his time, it would still take more than a common mage to overcome a descendant of the legendary Magi.
“Remember, this is a guerrilla attack. This war has been going on for three years; you won’t end it today, so no stupid heroics.” This last was directed mostly at Talin. “Get in, fulfill your objectives, get out.” He scowled at Talin. “No… elaborations.”
The elf shrugged. So he had a flair for the flamboyant.
“No forest fires, craters, hellstorms…”
Talin smiled. A large flair.
The sergeant continued lecturing for a few minutes more, outlining his aforementioned objectives. “Try to take as many prisoners as possible, but don’t hesitate to strike hard. I want that outpost removed from this earth. Their forces are small; this won’t be hard. Talin, you must take down the mage. Any questions?” No one moved “Alright, you all, be careful. Carissa will fill you in on the finer strategic points on site. Report to the Tele-mage. And don’t die,” he finished.
They walked out in double file, chatting amiably under the sergeant’s wary eye. The strike teams in the Warriors were the most lax and easy going of all the armed forces, a privilege they took full advantage of. Their easy-going manner belied their destructive efficiency in combat. Not restricted by race or background, they were the best of the best, soldiers so good at what they did that it would be a shame to leave them with average Warriors. And with a member of the Order of the Flameheart, a battlemage nonetheless, they were practically invincible. A fact they knew and enjoyed.
They reported to the Tele-mage casually; their mission was simple. Kill some Aerithians, wreak some havoc, come home. The old man entered their patrol number in the database, checked the specified coordinates, and with a few incantations the empty doorway next to him flickered to life, materializing into a damp coastal forest in northern Aerithia. Talin caught the clear smell of the sea and heard the cry of a gull, though he could see little in the cool fog. “Send the signal when you’re ready to come back,” the Tele-mage said. “I’ll be waiting with the portal in its Latent Mode.”
“Yes sir.” Talin went in alone without a backward glance. Since the guerilla war had started three years before, these missions had become his day-to-day lifestyle.
Once through he immediately put up a shield around the specified ten meter perimeter. The translucent barrier of air could barely be seen among the mist, its walls slowly flowing as Talin sustained it. Massive trees loomed around him, their impressive trunks soaring upward and disappearing in the fog. With a thought the mage sent a slight wave of heat through his globe, comfortably warming the moist air and dissipating the fog. Motioning for the others to join him, he strengthened his shield. While their attack should be unexpected, it never hurt to be prepared. Doing so had kept him alive before.
Leaping through the gateway with guns at the ready, it took but a moment for the remaining nine soldiers to set up a base and Talin released his defense, the wall dispelling into the fog with a whisper.
“Area secure, Carissa-I mean, commander,” called Josey. She was a large woman, for a halfling at least. Her three-foot-six inch height and nimble fingers made her a difficult opponent. Impossible to see and with brilliant aim, she had made the team easily.
“Good. Check a four hundred yard perimeter and then let’s get down to business.” The elf maiden spoke with the voice of authority, one well heeded by her troops. Though she was a mere seventy-two years old, barely entering adulthood by elven standards, her exceptional leadership and brilliant aim with a sniper rifle had never yet failed to bring a victory.
“Hold on, everybody, before you head off,” Talin reminded them pointedly. “I’m supposed to protect you guys.”
Carissa sighed. “Everybody line up so he can work his magic.”
“Exactly,” Talin called. “You heard the lady.”
“Just shut up and hurry.”
Smiling roguishly, Talin began to draw unseen symbols on the foreheads of those around him. Josey scowled when he bent over and brushed her hair out of her face.
“I don’t need any of this; save your energy.”
“Come on, you’re not really being noble, you just hate depending on anyone else.”
“No, I don’t mind relying on most others, just on arrogant elf-wizard types,” she retorted.
“Oh, you got burned, man.”
“Shut up Kyle, or I’ll ‘burn’ you.” Talin glared in mock anger at the grinning man. “Quite literally.”
“Now now, let’s not argue about who will kill who, just get on with your job.”
Narrowing his eyes at Kyle, Talin began the intricate hand movements the protection spell involved. “Petty human.”
“Enough.”
“Sorry, sorry…” he sank into the meditation required for the magecraft and started the complicated incantations.
A collective shiver ran around the group as the spell completed, leaving everyone with a fleeting, cold, damp feeling. Talin opened his eyes and shuddered. “Glad that’s over with…” He didn’t really like magecraft; its complex gestures and words, not to mention the constant memorization required, took too much time for a battlemage. While certainly powerful, its spells were too specific in purpose and therefore didn’t provide enough adaptability for a combat situation. Nonetheless his studies had required that he learn it, though he much preferred sorcery. It was inborn and not learned, and while more basic in form, much better suited for offensive action.
“Alright, now that we’re all ‘safe’, let’s move out. You know your jobs.” Talin picked up the slight relief in the commander’s voice. The spell had no visual effects, but added much needed protection against bullets. He only wished it provided invincibility. No one likes seeing their friends die.
Casting another quick spell on himself, his form melted into the fog. It was time for mage hunting.
* * *
Half an hour later he was still silently making his way invisibly through the forest. Staring forlornly at his hand-held mapping system, he could only sigh dejectedly. Though his divination skills were limited, he wouldn’t normally even need the thing if he wasn’t saving his energy for the upcoming skirmish. The thing was almost a year old. You’d think the army could afford better. If my coordinates are accurate the outpost should be just over the ridge, but who knows where I’ll end up with this ancient piece of junk.
Laughing quietly in spite of himself, Talin crested the hill and sure enough a few shoddy wooden buildings crouched amid the stately tree trunks. Compared with the behemoths towering in the sky, they looked all the more pathetic. This would be an easy raid.
Still invisible, he strode boldly into camp, pausing to examine the two ragged guards on watch. Their body armor was scratched, their guns outdated. Talin felt rather sorry for them, in spite of himself. An enemy was an enemy, but they were still people.
He couldn’t help but grimace as one man groaned in surprise. His companion looked at him quizzically for a moment before taking on the same expression. Carissa’s second bullet had found its mark.
Moving past them hurriedly he made his way into the first building. He dispelled his invisibility as he opened the door, not afraid even as he was greeted with seven gun barrels.
“Easy there, comrades.”
“Shut up,” the officer of the battalion sneered. “We are the farthest thing from your comrades.”
“Now, now, don’t make me fight you.”
The man laughed. “We have guns in your face and fingers on triggers. Not to mention that there is but one of you and seven of us.”
Talin looked thoughtfully at the officer and then stared at his own upraised hand. Tendrils of fire played on his fingertips. “Really?” He glanced back at the man. “I only see six.”
With a flick of his fingers Talin sent the man through the back wall. His shield instantly in place, he watched in amusement as bullets bounced off harmlessly. Inspecting his fingernails with a bored expression, he waited for the remaining soldiers to stop. “Are we through?”
Astonished, the soldiers dropped their guns to the ground as if betrayed. “I thought so.” Talin waved his hands, and the guns twisted and broke. “Now, what to do with you?” Another discharge of magic and the men were on the ground terrified. Concentrating fiercely Talin glared at the broken weapons. They lifted of their own accord and wrapped themselves about his prisoners’ hands and feet. “Now a quick spell of silence…” with but a command word the room became quiet, the spell obscuring every noise. Stepping into the doorway in order to remove himself from its range, he saluted the astounded men. “Speechless are we? Excellent. I’ll be back soon; I hope you don’t miss me too badly.” With a final cheery wink he discontinued his shield and exited before the dumbfounded captives.
Chuckling, he decided to ‘investigate’ the largest building. Mages generally thought highly of themselves; he himself was no exception.
He slipped through a back door which was conveniently ajar, and lo and behold, a man dressed in ornamental robes stood before him. Again Talin felt bad. This man was almost primitive; most army mages had discarded robes for more practical clothing long ago.
But, war was war. Immediately he stretched forth his hand, exerting a wall of force to knock the man to the ground. Throwing another shield around himself, he picked the man off the floor and held him in the air with his magic. The poor man’s eyes widened as he began to comprehend his rapidly deteriorating situation. With the magic-user firmly under his control, Talin remembered to send the predetermined signal to his company. Pointing up, he sent a blast of heat straight up and couldn’t contain a small smile as the roof blew apart in flaming fragments. How he loved sorcery.
Grimly he returned his focus to the situation at hand. Now came the hard part. Talin’s captive struggled as much as he was able in the confines of the battlemage, but even he knew his efforts were futile.
Sighing unhappily, Talin gathered the power for a killing blow. As he sent the bolt of pure energy he turned away. Killing in honest combat was what he was trained to do, but watching helpless men burn from existence was unbearable. His heart sickened as he felt his magic grip dissipate as his captive ceased to exist, and he swiftly dropped his shield. The once occupied room now looked even more dilapidated and forlorn.
Breathing slowly, Talin turned back to the doorway. There was still gruesome work to be done.
He gasped as two darts pierced his side. “What the…” He was cut off as a vicious electrical shock from the tazer blew him off his feet. It was his turn to lie stunned on the ground and his mind registered numerous figures stepping from behind a door and approaching him carefully. The real mage Talin had been sent after led them and realization played in Talin’s mind, its cruel truth tormenting him. The enemy magic-user he had so easily overwhelmed had been naught but an illusion.
“Our mission has been a success. Come men; his allies will come soon.”
Through a haze of confusion and pain Talin tried to analyze his situation. In desperation he sent a blast of heat against his oppressors. The mage brought up his own shield and sparks flew, but Talin’s weakened strike was easily blocked.
“Tie him up,” The mage commanded the two men. Talin was captured. It can’t be; not me, not a battlemage trained in the finest academy in the realms. We were told this was just an outpost; we weren’t prepared for such an effective enemy. My party will save me, they have to...
The mage crouched next to him. “You seem like a rather decent chap, mate. You don’t delight in bloodshed. But clearly we both understand the necessities of war. I don’t envy you, with where you’re going.”
He pressed the trigger of his tazer again and as the shock swept over him Talin sank into merciful blackness.
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