Fiction | Shadow Kingdoms

Sorcerer, Chapter 47: Up at Dawn

A fantasy gamelit web-novel

This is part of a fantasy gamelit web-novel, with a Dungeons & Dragons flavor. The full title is “Sorcerer, Level 1”. Click here to begin at Chapter 1, or click here for the contents page!

Alcar woke early, the book by Gorba Longtongue still in his hand, and Brutus curled at his side. Sitting up and noticing the early morning light streaming through the windows, Alcar realized that despite the noise and unfamiliar location of the bunkhouse, he had dropped off before his two companions had come upstairs.

Momentarily alarmed, he checked on his coin pouch and rudimentary collection of magical supplies, but was reassured to see that everything was where he left it. His staff was still leaning by the pegs too.

Brutus grumbled as Alcar moved. With his tunic and robes in hand, he smiled and patted the dog, then shimmied off the bunk and onto the floor. With a tired grunt, he pulled the garments back over his head.

Olynka was in the upper bunk, Alcar could now see, sleeping directly above where he had been, while Etienne was just along from him. As he grabbed his staff, Etienne opened his eyes, nodded with a half smile, rolled over, and likewise got to his feet. “Morning, sorcerer. Up at dawn, I see. Very virtuous.”

“Morning, Etienne. Hope you enjoyed the rest of your time in the bar.”

Etienne scoffed. “Bad ale, and too many soldiers. That server is as sweetheart, though, and Olynka is a hell of a lot of fun once she relaxes a bit.”

Alcar smiled. “I hope she’s not still pissed with me.”

“Ah — she’ll get over it, man. Anyway, as I said, I’ll be surprised if Kora doesn’t catch up with us at some point. Now, come on. I saw something in the stables that interested me.”

The two companions walked the length of the bunkhouse and began to descend the stairs. Alcar decided not to ask whether the thing that had interested the little rogue was something that he was planning to steal…

The main taproom had undergone something of a transformation since Alcar had gone to bed. The multiple small tables which had previously hosted small groups of drinkers had since been moved together into three very long tables, each set out with breakfast fare. At two of these, soldiers were seated — and despite the early hour, each was turned out much more neatly and professionally than before, most sitting in rows with matching uniforms. Officers with more decorated uniforms sat at the head of each table; one of them now yelled for coffee without looking around.

The third and nearest table was unoccupied, and appeared to be intended as a buffet for other guests. The food was basic, Alcar could see — slices of black bread, with just a little bit of dried meat and jugs of milk — but he wasn’t going to refuse. He looked around at Etienne. “Will this be included in the price for an overnight, do you reckon?”

But Etienne was heading towards the door. “I’m just going to the stables, man.”

“You’re not eating?”

Etienne paused and briefly cast an eye over the breakfast offerings. “I’m not hungry yet — and I don’t favor soldiers for company. But you go ahead, man. Don’t pay any extra, though. A copper as a tip, at most.” With this, the halfling swaggered towards the door and pushed his way outside.

Shrugging, Alcar began to help himself to bread. As he chewed, his reading of the strange book the previous evening now came flooding back to him. What exactly did the incantations that he had read about do? Was it the case — as it appeared, and Master Maluhk had implied — that different incantations summoned different kinds of energy, some more dangerous than others? And if so, was it down to the sorcerer’s skill to form that energy into something useful?

If so, he was probably screwed…

But one thing was for sure. He didn’t want to mentally rehearse or even think about the phrases inside the taproom. After all, when he was in the goblins’ valley, even just thinking the phrase rac et w…

Alcar rapidly stopped himself before he could risk another accident, slapping himself in the face as a distraction. This act that led to a mixture of curious and stern looks from among the two companies of soldiers. One or two sets of eyes lingered on him for a few seconds, peering with obvious distaste at the robes. This was concerning. What had Olynka told him about the Knights of Dawn, and their view of magic users? It could well be the case that Imperials in general were prejudiced...

Just then, Seluff emerged from a door behind a bar, and approached him with a wooden board containing sliced cheese. Alcar looked up expectantly, but the felaxian walked over to the soldiers. However, she stopped on her way back, smiling at the apprentice. “Good morning, traveller! I’m afraid it’s poor fare today. Supplies are running low due to the constant raids on the road between here and Dathmir. That’s why these soldiers are getting ready to set out.”

“I see,” he replied, stepping closer to her. “That’s useful to know. Do you know when they’ll be, uh… leaving?”

“Inside the hour, I imagine. You want company on the road?”

“Far from it!” he said, a little too emphatically, and then lowered his voice further. “We’d rather keep a low profile, if you catch my drift.”

“I’m sure your dog feels the same,” she replied with a wink, and pointed to the nearby table. Brutus was now up on his hind legs, and as Alcar looked on, the dog grabbed a slice of ham.

“Down, boy!”

But Brutus hurried off with his haul without a backwards glance at his master and then settled down to chew at the foot of the stairs.

“Damn it… I just didn’t see…”

“Don’t worry,” said Seluff. “I won’t tell the other guests about it if you don’t.” She moved over to the table as she spoke and pushed the sliced meat closer to its center.

“I’m sorry all the same,” Alcar repeated, wincing as he spoke. Brutus was now chewing vigorously, a contented look across his wrinkled features.

“It’s all right, mate,” Seluff replied. “I’ve had worse-behaved pets in here, believe me. Not to mention patrons.”

Alcar nodded, recalling the dead body he had seen on his arrival. “Yeah, well — about that,” he said. “The knight from yesterday. Is he still around? He’s one of the ones that I’d rather avoid. The red-armored dude.”

She frowned, stealing a glance towards the main door. “Yes,” she said in a low and nervous voice. “Skizol has not yet left. He’ll be leading this troop, I expect.”

“Uh, okay. Thanks, Seluff.”

As Brutus returned nonchalantly to his master’s side, Alcar now glanced around the room again, aware that as he stood there in his vivid-green robes, he was attracting yet more glances from among the rows of soldiers. All in all, it was much more attention than he wanted. “Is there a back door to this taproom, by any chance?” he asked.

“Not exactly, friend wizard,” she replied, “but I got you. I can let you out via the kitchen if you come with me past the bar.”

He nodded with an eager smile. “Thanks! And please, if you see them, tell my companions where I am.”

“Sure. I won’t mention it to anyone else, either,” she replied as they began to walk that way together. “Like I say, I got you. I have witches in my family, actually.”

Alcar raised his eyebrows. “Interesting. Thanks again.”

Sorcerer, Chapter 46 >> series contents page >> Sorcerer, Chapter 48

Thanks for reading! I’ll post the next chapter tomorrow… It’s a lot of fun, one of my favorites in the whole run! Hope you enjoy it too — JFD.

New to Medium? Consider signing up, so that you read the whole novel, as well as millions of other cool articles and stories! If you use my referral link by clicking here, it won’t cost you anything more, but I get a fraction of the subscription fee. Thank you!