Legend of the Spellthief

Standing in a meeting room at the Gerro Guardhouse, Logan looked to both sides to see numerous guards and hunters prepped for war. Jirango spoke aloud to everyone, turning his head to specific people as he called out their names. Aside from Marcus, there were a few other Devouts, a couple of Sorcerers and a Wizard. Everyone else was of the martial variety.

Moving his gaze to Marcus, Jirango addressed him, “Marcus, you’ll be spearheading the rush into Under Market F, your alt team will circle to its street exit and block off those who try to escape. Sincollo will be your headhunter.”

Marcus nodded at the saeben sitting next to him, who was almost as tall whilst in that position.

Jirango then looked at Logan, “Logan, you’ll have the task of infiltrating the spell ring factory. Whilst the under markets are being attacked they will no doubt think themselves safe for a while and try to take what they can before leaving. We’ll have Evén cover the front and send word out if any leave if she isn’t able to kill them herself. Once you’ve cleared the interior you can have the guard regime I send with you escort the hostages to safety.”

Logan nodded in acceptance as Jirango talked to the others.

This had been a long time coming. The guards had been tailing the leads that Logan gave them for quite some time now, and with the upcoming Congress this was the best time to act. The influx of funds from the materials gathered, as well as faith in the city for rescuing the abducted, would do wonders for votes in favour of changes.

There was little in the way of bonuses for retrieving people alive, it was going to get incredibly messy with all the bodies hitting the floor to sift through them quickly. There were a few big names in the list to try and apprehend though, those with knowledge of supply lines and buyers.

The list of crimes was several pages long, from minor theft or impersonation to murder and torture. Many weren’t going to live past the next morning. When some of the actions were read out, Logan reflexively flinched or clenched his fist in anger.

Eventually, the meeting came to an end, the raid was going to happen tonight. Preparing his spells for combat, Logan had adjusted his new bangle and made sure it held the summons aside from Celsius.

1st (6): 1+3/3* Flame, 1 Frost, 1 Gaia, 1 Infuse, 1+2/2* Lightning, 1 Necromantic.

2nd (5): 4/4* Dimensional Jaunt, 1 Haste, 1 Skin of Ice, 1 Sleep, 2(+4 full) Summons.

3rd (4): 1 Air Blast, 1 Flame 2, 1 Invisibility, 1 Necromantic 2.

Signature: 2/2 Dimensional Jaunt.

With his summons drained, they were to aid in the raids elsewhere with ranged skills or to block elemental attacks. The new bangle saved him quite a bit of MP for his draining tactics, granting him 27.

Outwardly demonstrating he was rank 16, the hunters had the utmost confidence in his abilities, and with word of his magic that could remove bodies, he would be best suited to the stealth infiltration alongside teleportation and invisibility spells.

Not many non-hunters were in on the raid, many adventurers steered clear of hunting others. There was also the issue of traitors getting wind of the plans, so only the trusted were told.

A massive number of two hundred was settled on for the attack, though many more adversaries would be found inside. The surprise and preemptive planning would see them through if not just higher ranks on their side.

Logan looked over the additional supplies granted to him for this assault, an assortment of potions to heal as well as recover spell slots. The spoils of war would more than pay for what the guards had invested.

Disbanding, the teams made final preparations.

Sometime later, as the moon lit up the city, Logan Stealthed his way to a large memory house. The term “sex” was replaced with “making memories”, though “fucking” was still a common term. It was legal to sell such in this world, but the building was hiding a darker secret underneath, where something worse was sucked out.

His image blurred and untraceable with a cast of Invisibility, Logan moved his formless body through the halls of the building and to a door at the back. Peering through its keyhole he warped into his centre and into the barred room.

Patrons jumped at the sound but blamed a nearby window letting a rush of cold night air inside, the slam of it hiding the slump of a body from Logan’s dagger hitting the wooden floor on the other side. Logan uncorked two vials and downed the purple liquid to recover the two spells he had used before absorbing the corpse into nothingness. If it wasn’t a caster, he didn’t want their experience.

Logan dumped the clothes and gear left on the floor into his newly emptied inventory. A ring of keys opening the way forward as he unlocked a hatch downwards, there wasn’t anywhere else to go, not even a window.

Sliding down a ladder, Logan found himself in a dark cavernous hallway, the walls gripping onto lit sconces. His frame blurred back into sight as he hunched down and crept forwards. A click of his fingers was all he would dare let out as he scanned the underground. A mini-map appeared dotted with doors, connecting hallways, and rooms.

Following the path ahead of him, Logan found a small entrance room. A small table with several stools held three lookouts and greeters, they were only level 2s. Outside of their level, Logan could see a quick rap sheet of their deeds, enough to turn his throat acidic.

Finding a good vantage point in the bosom of the wall, Logan picked out the daggers from his hip holsters and gripped them between his fingers. He had been practising throwing several at a time, but these fellows only needed a max of two each.

Waving his arms to and fro, Logan let loose a quick flurry of blades as they hit the backs, arms, and chests of the men at the table. Their bodies hit the floor quickly, the last guy hitting the wall and sliding down. The only utterance was a, “What”, from one of them, not loud enough to cause any worry.

Moving to gather his daggers, Logan absorbed the corpses into nothingness, clearing his dirty work from the room.

A window appeared beside Logan’s face as his alarm went off to let him know the assault above had started. Word wouldn’t reach here immediately so he had some time to work further.

Dashing between the nearby rooms, Logan threw more daggers at unsuspecting thugs. The floor was painted quite the flourish of red as he cleaned house. Eventually, he heard the echoing thud of someone banging on the door loudly upstairs, the news had finally reached this place.

Logan’s footsteps hurried as the timeline sped up. Jumping onto a wall and leaping upwards, Logan cleared a hallway of passing bandits, landing between them he twirled with daggers and flames, bodies skirting across the floor as they stood no chance against his level advantage.

Experience numbers stopped appearing, no doubt due to him being in danger from approaching forces.

As he ran through the underground a woman spotted him and opened her mouth to shout, but was halted as Logan used Dimensional Jaunt to apparate in front of her and fill her gob with a blade, piercing out the back.

Twisting the body to the floor, Logan ran off without the time to clear the remains. The stampede of footsteps above was able to persist even through the rocky chambers. Joining them were the rushing bandits underground who moved in Logan’s direction.

Turning invisible, Logan awaited a large group to fill the hallway ahead, waved his hand forward, and chanted, “Flame Wall”, filling the interior with such heat that it made it difficult to see who was who when it dissipated.

Downing more vials as he ran, Logan found the jailer’s room before the prison cells. A duo of a tall man and woman with massive maces in hand protected the entrance.

Still invisible, Logan jumped over both with nary a sound before he hit the floor behind, the aggressors whirring their heads around. Rotating his hands under and behind him, Logan grabbed the two bandits behind him and activated his rings, shocking both the jailers to their core as smouldering heaps hit the floor accompanied by Backstab text.

Taking their keys from them, Logan opened the door to the cells. A long hallway stretched out in front of him, flanked by steel bars on either side that held little light.

Unlocking the first, Logan called up his Light Ally that easily lit up to 80 feet and approached the two men on the floor. Crouching to them he asked, “Hey, you alright? I’m here to—” before he realised it was pointless. Their face was hardly that anymore, the vital parts removed for trinkets and potions. A mass of yellow and red was what remained underneath bandages that hugged their skin tight.

The men shivered in fear as Logan approached, placing a finger on their palm he wrote “help” on them. Groans or cries, whatever they could be called without a tongue, came from their mouths as Logan placed a healing potion in each of their hands.

Logan could see the veins and tendons through the skin thumb the corks before he uncorked them for the men. Drowning in healing waters, the men smiled for what would be the first time in weeks, if not months.

Writing “wait” in their hands, the men nodded their heads as they nibbled on sandwiches that Logan had pulled from his inventory for them.

The next cell, and the one after that, was the same sight. Men and women, all magi, had their bodies harvested for parts. It was a dark sight and one that Logan feared was close to him when he was taken by Darius.

As Logan got into the further cells, a worse vision met his eyes. Unmoving bodies, or people who had so little left to their bodies that if they were moved would probably die.

The last cell was marked with an upward red arrow, opening it Logan found why. A level 10 Sorcerer had been chained to the wall with backwards broken joints. A scan showed the man had Regeneration, if he had it before would be guesswork, but Logan was sure the fingers on the man’s hand were not his originals.

If not for being forewarned about it, Logan would have rushed to save the prisoner. However, he spotted lines painted on the floor surrounding the final captive. He didn’t want to risk setting off whatever traps they were as he had little training in disarming them. Best to leave it to the professionals.

Logan called out, “Don’t worry, I’m here to help. I’ll send someone to come get you.”

The man barely muttered a, “Free”, in return.

“You’ll be free soon. I just need someone to deal with the traps in here.”

The man sobbed, one of the few in here who could.

As Logan turned around he could see red dots appear on his map towards the jailer room, eyeing the far end of the hallway he saw men and women rush in with weapons drawn.

Warping back over there, Logan clambered on top of the closest man, a dagger in the left of his neck and one in the right of his head as Logan rolled over the body as it fell to the floor.

Drawing up two new blades, Logan cut at the stomach of another woman as she fell to the floor, and threw both at another man as he slumped down. Opening both palms he called out, “Force”, twice, pelting a far target to the wall, blood and viscera going wild.

Quickly picking a blade from his hip, Logan parried a longsword from over his head, spun around, slapped the woman’s side and chanted, “Flame Grasp”, igniting her to the floor.

Taking a mace to the face, Logan took the momentum and spun diagonally around as he landed a heel on the aggressor's shoulder, bringing them down and stabbing under his own leg into the man’s face.

Another came charging at Logan but fell unconscious with a Force mick to the stomach. Logan heard the pull of bowstrings and movements of crossbows, grappled the body and moved it to block the strikes of four ranged opponents.

Placing a hand over the new corpse in his hands, Logan chanted, “Flame Shot”, burning away its stomach and shooting a tuft of flames through the hole it created and blasting the face of one of the ranged adversaries.

Dropping the corpse, Logan threw three daggers at the remaining foes, severing the strings of their weapons. Charging forward he cut at their necks and heads, bringing more bodies to the floor.

Hearing the chanting of a spell in the background, Logan was infuriated as he saw a Sorcerer amongst the bandits. Darting towards the woman, Logan grabbed her throat and halted her chant, stabbing her stomach with another dagger and leaving it there.

“You were one of them!” Logan shouted as he pointed towards the cells, his eyes glistening as he saw the woman was a bandit nonetheless via Identification.

She tried to open a palm at Logan to blast him away, but Logan gripped tighter as his nails cut into the woman’s flesh, he then tore away as he brought with it the woman’s throat. She fell to her knees gripping her opened throat but Logan stopped her movements as he planted his hand on her forehead and commanded in his head, “Essence Absorption”, the black and dark-green lines being the last thing the woman eyed before she warped into the Spellthief’s palm as the lines turned blue and purple.

Standing up, Logan looked towards the corridor as he continued to hear the cacophonous sound of metal sabatons and leather chafing.

“Guess these fuckers aren’t fleeing”, Logan stated aloud as he gathered all of his daggers and sheathed them.

Clicking his fingers again to ensure no allies were in their midst, Logan only saw a river of red approach him. Aiming his hands down the hallway, he made it redder as he sent out shockwaves of grey energy into it.

--- *** ---

Now is not the time to be checking my status.