Legend of the Spellthief

Days eroded and ticked away as Logan sat through several court sessions. Evidence against him, some for him. Quayvan’s face was a mess of grins and annoyance, his Defence Master getting buffed by his good work and horrendously faltering when it failed.

Hairs slowly grew on Logan’s face, his inability to use his normal spellcasting had started to deteriorate his looks. But it wasn’t too important when compared to all that was at stake currently.

Marcus and Amalia hadn’t returned in five days, it was coming up to the sixth and final day before any real preparation could be undergone. At that point, both Logan and Quayvan would most likely go on house arrest or moved to more communal prisons while more evidence popped up.

Laurent had done well to keep Logan’s head from a noose or chopping block, and it seemed Quayvan’s preparations were too heavy-handed to lead to his preferred outcome. However, if Quayvan was allowed leave of the court and its interior cells, Logan had little doubt that the vampire traitor would find a way to escape.

While it would prove Quayvan’s guilt, it would be a middling victory. Quayvan possibly held Logan’s Spell Absorption powers within him, and bringing those back to the Below PCs would “spell” danger for the Spellthief.

Logan looked around the condensed and concise court halls, hoping he’d see the friendly faces of his allies amongst them. It was coming close to the end, and Logan’s prayers weren’t answered.

As the judges began to call a close to today’s session, mostly in favour of the Spellthief, a guard entered from a door near the judges’ counter.

Whispers emanated from those who held the power here, and a would-be messenger to feasibly upset any verdict.

The guard left, everyone in the court looking towards the judges for an update.

Whispers continued amongst them, another portion of Logan’s life that felt several times longer than it actually was.

Pwrose, the saebree, announced to the court in a regal voice befitting a tigress of her streak, “Tomorrow’s session shall be held as an interviewing stage. Jirango, the Half-Hand, and Xican, an investigator from the Magi’s Tower association have been retrieved. Their testimony should put an end to any further debates and enclosure of the accused.”

Logan’s heart lifted so high it felt as if it was going to take him to the ceiling, turning to look at Quayvan it looked as if two boulders from Sisyphus had landed on his shoulders.

Talk filled the hall with the cacophony of an early victory for Logan, if he could skip he would have. As the session came to its close, the members started to leave with both Logan and Quayvan getting escorted away.

Keeping an eye on Quayvan, Logan was surprised when his opponent tried something in a room with so many people.

“Key”, Quayvan called as he raised his cemented hands.

From one of the side counters, a man stood, threw a key, and had it enter the lock of Quayvan’s accused’s gloves. A click was heard as the cement brick hit the floor.

Logan pushed Laurent back to their counter, as his and all others were covered in faintly green hexagon barriers. Logan caught out of his, as several other members were out of theirs.

Quayvan let out a bestial roar as he charged at Logan, hands in claws and sparking. It seemed the other protections continued to halt his power, though he had more to offer. Quayvan’s sides started to bulge and wave. Bursting out from his shirt, under his armpits, were two long talons.

Jagged and of a white-grey colour, the talons looked like they could rip open a metal shell, let alone Logan without his usual protection.

Lightning bolts of topaz came hailing from the ceiling as they pounded down on the vampire, slowing him, but not stopping him. Raising his normal hands to block some of the barrage, Quayvan whipped back a talon to make a wide sweep at Logan, who raised his accuser’s gloves to block the strike.

However, instead of getting hit by a talon, Logan was splattered with blood. Quayvan’s heart was half a foot from Logan’s face, gripped within a tight grip as it beat outside of the vampire’s chest.

“Petrify”, Sanwrence called out, as his form was barely visible behind Quayvan’s.

The aggressor’s eyes went pale as the exposed heart became rock in an instant, veins and arteries snapping off the now-museum-worthy artefact detached from the man.

Sanwrence pulled back as Quayvan’s body hit the floor, cracks forming across his corpse and the talons snapping a little.

“Damned monsters”, Sanwrence cursed as he spat on the corpse. Placing the heart atop Logan’s accuser’s gloves he announced, “Your victory prize.”

Tristint, the younger gashriek, spoke louder as the defensive barriers dissipated, “I think in light of these events, we can call a verdict?”

The man who had thrown the key had been apprehended, his arms pulled back as he knelt at the grapple of four guards.

Grador, the saeben, ordered, “Place that traitor on the circle.”

The guards did so as the man tried to resist.

“You, answer me, did—” Grador started, but was cut off as the man bit down and severed his own tongue. “Well, that answers that.”

Margit, the younger vampire, started her own announcement, “In light of this occurrence. I believe we can call our vote. Who amongst us calls for Logan’s innocence?”

The judges one by one replied with an “aye”, Logan feeling a modicum of joy over the filling mass of confusion and questions inside of him.

“The handling of the corpse, and attached locations, buildings, and effects, shall be handed over to the court. We will discuss with the Magi’s Tower association as well as petition the guild, Twain Dagger, to take over hunting duties in place of Logan”, Jone informed the room.

“Logan, your belongings and those of the people you defeated will be returned to you”, Sanwrence added.

Logan nodded in approval as he had Laurent grab the petrified heart from his cemented hands.

“Does Logan Hall have any requests or submissions to these terms?” Sanwrence asked.

“Only that I am to be informed of the outcome.”

“Accepted.”

Logan fell into the chair in his cell, spread legs and arms as he sprawled out. It was as if all the bad air and emotions were flying out of him, he could feel a coolness in his lungs with clutched breaths finally let loose.

He had many questions, but he was just happy that he at least saw one good end to this whole debacle. It also removed the issue of a countdown timer he had been dismissing every day, telling him to take his rewards or lose them,

Compounded with his system quest, Logan had been granted two new titles with Quayvan’s death.

“You have gained the ‘Proven Innocent’ title.”

“Proven Innocent: Winning a vital judgement within the hidden courts of Gauntlet, your innocence being proven has led to many seeing you as nothing but good.

When accused of wrongdoing, people will have your side more often than not. You have gained 1 skill point to distribute.”

“You have gained the ‘Dark Day’s Ruler’ title.”

“Dark Day’s Ruler: Revealing and removing a plot to take down the progenitors of the vampire race, you have brought darkness to the brightest of days for the covens of night.

Elder vampires count you as their guardian and are more amicable to your aid and give it. You have gained 1 skill point to distribute.”

Before he could investigate his status further, Logan was greeted by Laurent entering his cell.

“Nice to see you so early”, Logan admitted as he sat up in his chair.

“I believe you’ll have many a more happy sighting now”, Laurent replied as he handed two bags and Logan’s coat over.

Logan looked over his gear and started sorting through it, “True that. I can’t thank you enough for your aid.”

“Consider us even in regards to debts. I hope you do not see the inside of these walls again, but if you do, call on me.”

“No doubts here, but—” Logan began as he found a few new pouches amongst his stuff, “These aren’t mine.”

“Ah”, Laurent stated as he stood to get a better look, “Your ‘payment’ for the hunting job, and an apology payment for what has transpired.”

Logan counted the gold coins quickly. Fifty for the mission and an extra ten.

“It’s appreciated. You get a good payment too?”

“The usual”, Laurent replied with a half smile.

“I suppose no danger pay when you have those barriers set up.”

“Yes. Miniature variants of the Demonturle Shell. I believe that has its test in 5 days, actually”, Laurent replied as his eyes wandered to the ceiling.

“Any word as to what Quayvan was yet?”

“A monster. Of what kind? I do not know. A morpher of some sort.”

“Is it common to find monsters in the guise of the civilized species?”

“I have not come across it. Not even whatever breed of monster that Quayvan turned out to be. It isn’t uncommon to find vampiric monsters though, ones that can have such a detailed conversation, however, those are rare.”

“The Demonturle Shell should stop those entering Gauntlet, right?”

“We can only pray.”

Leaving the cell, Logan took wide strides as he met back up with Marcus and Amalia. Hugging his allies, Logan couldn’t help but notice the marks across their armour and weapons.

“Didn’t face too many troubles, did you?”

Marcus shrugged, “Thieves, murderers, experimenters. The usual. There was also a woman, another vampire, who was apparently a monster.”

Logan sighed, “Seems we’ve had that issue in common.”

Amalia perked up, “We found ourselves up north, in Helm lands. Sorry, it took so long getting back.”

“Xican wasn’t able to use Teleport then?”

“Had no tongue, his injuries made it too difficult”, Marcus replied.

“He’s waiting at the inn, said he wanted to talk with you after you got released.”

“No long interrogation for him then”, Logan spoke with a hint of sarcasm.

“He’s at least got back his tongue, so you won’t be pulling teeth”, Marcus laughed.

The trio spoke as they walked back to the inn. Logan first thought he’d have eyes at his back, but it seemed at least for now the rules of the court were being uphelled. No one would speak of what transpired in those walls unless it was deemed necessary. Logan wasn’t going to be on notice boards any time soon.

Telling Logan about the locations, teleportations, and anti-scrying measures painted whoever this group was as quite wealthy and powerful. Optimistically, Quayvan was going to be its head or its strongest member. Those that Logan had dealt with, and the woman Marcus had killed, would be the next in the chain of command.

Since there were going to be many more eyes and arms in the pot, the last locations were going to get cleared out and all remaining bases found. At least Logan didn’t have to worry about it all leaning on his shoulders. His part was done.

The idea of wolves in sheep's clothing was the important takeaway. Almost anyone could be on the Below PCs’ side. Monster and normal folk alike. Why couldn’t it have just been as simple as a goblin hero?

Returning to the Meek Moat Inn, Logan threw empty bags onto a nearby table and almost spread himself across the sofa near the fireplace, if not for Xican waiting at the bar counter for his return.

“We’ll let you two chat, then we’ll catch up”, Marcus offered as he patted Logan’s shoulder.

“Could do with a rest myself”, Amalia added as she took the spot Logan wanted on the sofa.

Logan nodded as he approached the mage. While slightly bruised and lacking dignity in his stance, Xican had been mostly healed from his imprisonment.

“Logan. Good to see you free as an ooran.”

“Same goes for you. Sorry you got mixed up in all of this”, Logan apologised as he sat next to his ally.

“I was already engrossed in the vampire business. You weren’t the trigger. But, there is something I do wish to discuss in private about this matter.”

Yetveka moved closer as she handed a tankard full of a strong substance, “Feel free to take this up with you.”

Logan took a big gulp, got a top-up from Yetveka, and replied, “Thanks. Will do”, before looking at Xican, “We can talk in my room if you want. I doubt anyone else is upstairs to overhear us.”

“That’s acceptable. Thank you, Yetveka”, Xican nodded at the gashriek lady before leading Logan upstairs.

Logan walked slowly behind, taking a drink every so often. It was time for some relaxation after a harrowing week plus some change. But he had plenty still to do, from selling more gear, accepting his quest rewards, and putting money towards the potions Ahren was going to make for him.

Moving in front of Xican when they got to Logan’s room, the Spellthief unlocked it and led his friend inside. Setting the tankard on the windowsill, Logan was about to lean against it as he turned to face Xican.

“So, what do you need?” Logan asked as he was bemused.

Xican had closed the door and knelt on one knee, his left hand in a fist over the right side of his chest. With a lowered head he spoke, “I pledge my power to you, my Oracle.”

“What?”

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