The agent of House Drake, Lord Gilbert Drake, stared at me in the tavern, blanketed in an aura so smug it was almost physical. Perhaps it was some sort of new fire magic the degenerates in Torchgutter had developed.
“Give me the unit of mages under your command, Sir Lorain,” the pompous second son of the likely related said.
”No.”
”I do not like being told no. It makes me angry,” he said.
”No one likes being told no Drake, but no. Fuck off.” I told him.
Sir Dipshit Drake then proceeded to unleash a flood of magic against me, and only my reflexes saved me. I felt the heat of the flames brush my skin, damn near leaving me sunburnt. I watched Java rise from her place at the table with a look of unadulterated rage on her face.
”No you don’t!” She shouted, forming arcane signs with her hands as Drake attempted to follow up his first attack.
Nothing. Apparently her efforts had cut him off. I went for my blade but the weasel proceeded to run while yelling insults and threats. I let him go so that I might return to my feast in progress and finish compiling the latest orders for aunt Tahliya.
”I’m gonna need your support when they inevitably come back causing trouble,” Java said.
”You have it,” I told her. “I won’t let the worm get away next time.”
The next morning I arose to hear my name shouted by a vaguely familiar voice. I was newly rousing and headed to do my morning business when I saw Hans, the mentor of the fire mages. Before I could reply to him, he unleashed a flurry of magic on me, dropping me to the ground. My bodyguard, Butch, the lovely man that he is, saw it was time to intervene, and struck Hans. Unfortunately, Hans had wrapped himself in vile fire magic, causing a retributive strike on Butch, dropping him as well. Hans turned to me, and stopped my bleeding.
”Give me those fire mages you refused to give Lord Drake,” he shouted. “This is guild business, not noble matters.
Little did Hans the obviously insane know, he had just made it noble matters by assaulting me.
“I would have been more than happy to hand them over had blanket demands by a rival faction of my homeland not vaguely demand them and then attack me. You knew these mages were in the forum and under my command. Communication is key, Hans.”
He threw another fucking fireball at me.
Thadeus pulled me off the floor, and had he been armed I would have insisted we strike the villain down then and there, after all, Butch had gotten quite close and triggered whatever contingency he had in place. Java and Sygrun saw to Butch, and we both rose. Dr. Heimr, the saint of a man he is, started seeing to my healing getting me back on my feet.
As I recollect these events to keep them clear in my mind and for posterity in case the mad dog seeks me out again, I prepare the letter I will be sending home. A noble agent of House Drake had struck me publicly. We may not be in Rogalia where the Pactum Domini reigns supreme, but damages would be claimed, or I would claim Gilbert’s life blood.
As for Hans Flamehand, mad dog of the fire guild, when a good animal goes rabid, you don’t keep it alive for the sake of the hard work it had done previously, you do the humane thing and you put it down. A fucking peasant struck me with his sorcery, and this would not stand. Let’s see how your magic stands against the laws of the emperor, Hansy boy.