FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The archives were big. Really big. Multiple floors, each with rows upon rows of bookshelves, all stuffed full of all sorts of books, texts, logs, documents, scrolls; pretty much every type of 'words on paper' thing you could imagine. Most of the shelves' information was pertaining to the history of Valentine: the founding of various cities, important people from the past, battles that had been fought, copies of trade documentation, and whatnot. If you wanted to become knowledgeable about the country, then you'd look no further than the Vallis city archives. The majority of the text was, of course, specifically about the city of Vallis itself. Architecture blueprints, what old noble families did or owned what, the various laws that helped govern the city, how it started up as just a trade hub way back when, so on and so forth. After all, what use would a city's archives be if they didn't contain any information about the city surrounding them?

Several little reading desks were strewn about, all having a small lamp standing off to the side to provide just enough light to read whenever the natural sunlight streaming in from the large windows wasn't cutting it. Some of the desks I could see were occupied. Some of the studious ones were rather young, making me think they were fresh-faced apprentices of various trades, all brushing up on whatever lessons they were supposed to be learning that week. It made me think back to the times in my own younger days when I was studying tomes in one of those desks late into the nights, the candlelight too dim to properly make out the words, leaving me in a heap of trouble once my teacher questioned me on my studies the following day. Ah, so many lectures that old bastard would give me when I'd fail a lesson.

Past the massive shelves were a series of office rooms, most of which used by the archive staff. Librarians, really. Serving the same function, but called a different name. Just never call them a librarian to their faces. Some people had been banned from the premises for doing just that. A bit petty, to be sure, but understandable enough. A small handful of the workers were hurrying about, pushing large carts of books around, sorting shelves, dusting tables and the like. They managed to keep the place well organized enough to where you were able to find whatever you needed in a relatively short time.

There in the entrance, things were quiet. The loudest noise was the shuffling of feet and the turning of wheels as the workers moved their book carts this way and that. Pages turned as people at desks read. An odd cough or sniffle from some unseen person. The muffled howl of the wind just beyond the walls. The near silence was relaxing. Then again, I could get this same level of peace and calm back home, and with the added benefit of my candle and tea. I didn't miss my time being forced to sit here in the archives.

My steps made a small squeaking noise from the now melting snow on my boots. Behind me, I left a few odd bootprints on the nice wood floors, which earned me nasty look from one of the archive staff. He was a small thing, wispy and frail looking, as if a slight breeze could knock him over. Despite this, he was loading up his cart high with tomes and texts, and I almost wanted to stop and wait to see him seriously attempt to move that damn thing. But no, I had business to attend to. It was time to move on and get this over with.

Towards the far end of the building, sandwiched between two of those small offices, was a lone staircase, descending downwards. Standing guard by the first step was a pale figure. Human in shape, but only just so. Skin as ashen as a corpse and just as still as one, it was quite unnerving to see its eyes roam around, taking in every detail they could. The figure was shorter than me, but made up for the lack of height with a not unsubstantial amount of muscle. It was like its muscles were attempting to break free from the skin, they were so large and grotesque. A head as bald as a newborn's showed off a tattoo emblazoned on its forehead, a symbol of a snake eating its own tail. It's face was an asymmetrical nightmare. One eye larger than the other by several degrees. A nose broken in three different places, bringing to mind a fractured piece of stone. One small tusk jutting up from its bottom jaw. There were no ears, only holes where they should have been on such a humanoid body.

The figure's eyes tracked me as I grew closer, and its mouth, which was before now a straight line, turned downward in a scowl. I could feel a small shiver along my spine, but fought against it. As the Gray continued to grimace, I matched its staring in equal measure, but countered the angered look with my best attempt at a friendly smile.

Now close enough to hear its breathing and smell its noxious breath, I nodded at it and told it my reason for being here. "Wizard Alistair Brandth, reporting to a summons from the Council."

Its eyes swept me up and down, searching my person. For what, I had some guesses but couldn't be entirely sure. It made a wordless grunt and locked eyes with me. The heavy breathing continued the whole time, and its mouth momentarily opened, as if it was about to say something, but just as quickly closed. The unblinking eyes glowed pure white, drowning out the dull brown irises for the briefest of seconds before its scowl disappeared, returning its face to a neutral expression. It then looked past me, once again going back to its little scanning of the environment, as if I was no longer standing there before it. These Grays always left me slightly worried, even if the rational side of me knew they wouldn't raise a hand. But at least now, I didn't even exist to it and could continue on my way.

The stairway down was a winding circle. This, combined with the low ceiling towards the bottom, meant that if one was above average height, like myself, you'd have to make sure to take the steps carefully, else risk knocking your head right into hard stone. Most people make the mistake of not paying attention their first time down. I know I did. Sconces along the walls held a few candles to light the way, but otherwise, the trip down was nothing to write home about. The only real thing of interest, if you could call it that, was I'd noticed a few candles missing from their holders. Not really a big deal, but the stairway was dimmer than the last time I'd been down.

Granted, the last time I'd been here was roughly five years prior. Usually, the Council just sent a letter detailing what work they wanted me to get done for them, so I never really visited their underground home often. I could count the number of times I'd ever walked down these stairs on my hands. This time would make seven.

The majority of the other six times had been back when I was an apprentice. My master took me down into the Council's chambers to introduce me to the more senior members he was friends with. I still couldn't figure out why he bothered. None of those old coots ever had anything nice to say; always giving backhanded compliments and dry remarks about my progress, or lack thereof. I learned later on they were judging my worth as a potential member of the Council.

I suppose I must have met their approval in the end. Either way, that didn't change how much I disliked the senior members.

The winding staircase kept going for what felt like an hour, but was probably more like a few minutes. When the walls are nothing but smooth stone, the endless steps down felt more dragged on then they should have been. Maybe if they put a few little scrolls along the walls, it would dull that sensation of boredom and make the trip down seem like hardly any time had passed. Maybe not. Maybe I was just already bored of this and just looking for anything to pass my time, even coming up with stupid ideas like that one.

As I grew nearer to the bottom, I could feel the air shift around me. There was a sudden warmth, as if I was back home in my study, sitting next to the fireplace. It was a nice feeling, one that I never understood about this place. The Council's underground chambers should be cold. After all, it was far beneath the earth, no natural light could reach deep enough to make it in any way comfortable, and yet, it just...was this way. As far back as I could remember, it always felt so nice down here. I had chalked it up to some magic spell or hex, but I'd never heard of one that could cause such an effect. Could be, I was just overthinking things.

Finally, I could see a growing light from below, and knew I was reaching the bottom of the stairs. My feet hurried me along almost as if on their own, my eagerness to finally be done with this gnawing at me. I was still hoping this meeting would prove to be rather uneventful, so I could just return home. Return to my nice meal. To my study. To Serisi.

It was at that last thought I reached the final step down, and before me was a large circular room. The same smooth stones of the staircase enclosed the room. Doorways were placed along the walls, each opening up into further rooms, and each of those having more rooms branching from them still. A network of such rooms beneath the city was what the Council called home. It wasn't a large underground area, to be precise. Perhaps about three or four city blocks' worth of space, but still, rather large for what many people refer to as 'just a guild.' They wouldn't be wrong to think that. I, myself, had wondered just why the Council took up such a large section of...well, not 'land,' in the common sense. I just brushed it off most of the time, assuming it was due to the Council just happening to be the oldest of these types of organizations in Valentine. It made sense that the first ones to set up shop would also be the ones who decided to make the largest home for themselves.

Shaking my head, I scanned the room. Spaced evenly apart were some tables and such, and sat at all of them were groups of my fellow spellcasters. There were many differing peoples; human, kobold, elf, dwarf, orc; the various groups that made up Valentine's population. A few people were around, discussing things I either couldn't hear, or just didn't care to listen to. From one of these groups, I saw a few familiar faces, people I'd either worked with in the past, or interacted with topside in the city, or whose shops I'd become a frequent customer at. It was a bit surprising to see so many people down here.

It was one such familiar face who caught my sight. A dark-haired dwarf, with a mustache as gloriously oiled and trimmed as any blue-blooded noble's. His hair was long, but tied in a small tail at the back. A dark green tunic was his outfit for the day, complemented by the cream-colored slacks beneath. He was in deep conversation with a fellow dwarf, their mouth moving quickly as if in some heated argument, but their voices did not rise above the chatter around the room, so I assumed their talk to be a peaceful one. The mustached dwarf seemed to sense my looking, and turned toward me, a smile painting his face when his eyes locked with mine.

At once, he abandoned his conversation with the other dwarf (a bit rude, if you ask me) and headed on over to me. He short stubby legs carried him faster than one might think of someone his size, as he was beside me in a moment.

"Well, well," he mused, his deep voice full of joy and mirth. "If it ain't Alistair, as I live and breathe." Wasting not even a second, he reached out and, snatching one of my hands in a meaty paw, shook my arm so vigorously, I almost worried he might pop one of my bones of its socket. When he finally relented and let go of my hand, he remarked, "Been a while since I seen you down here. What's the occasion?"

"Hello, Olan," I returned his enthusiasm with a small groan, rubbing at my shoulder. "Got a summons from the higher-ups," I eventually answered his question.

His eyes got as large as dinner plates at my response, then he leaned in and said in a hushed tone, "Lady Ghalestris?" Clearly, this wasn't supposed to be something to brag about to the others in the room. Or at least, it appeared he seemed to think so.

I paused at the question. "How did...?" The answer almost immediately popped into my mind. "You, too?"

A small nod was his only response.

"Heh," I let out with a smile and gave his side a friendly little shove. "What in blazes you doing out here mingling, then? Figured you'd be all giddy like a child over the chance to prove yourself or something."

His mouth formed a hard line as he collected his thoughts. "Tell the truth, I'm a bit worried," he mumbled out.

Waving away the sentiment, I told him, "Nothing to worry about. Way I hear it, last time she got involved with Council business--"

"Historical documents, I know," he cut in. His shoulders came up in a shrug. "Still, though. Can't help but feel like something's up. I mean, think about it. Why us?"

"Luck of the draw?" I offered.

The unamused look on Olan's face showed he wasn't buying it. Even his mustache seemed to point downward in concern. A long moment of silence then stretched out between us. Both us too lost in thought on just why we'd been called here, trying in vain to come up with some explanation. It hadn't occurred to me I wouldn't have been the only one summoned. Perhaps Olan was right to be worried.

However, we wouldn't know for sure until we actually went in. A deep sigh escaped me and I patted the dwarf on his shoulder. "Well, no time like the present, right?"

He returned my sigh with one of his own and faked a smile. "Might as well get this over with."

We shuffled off to the far right side of the room, through more similar circular rooms. We passed by several places; a repository of alchemical ingredients and reagents, a small 'study' complete with reading desks and a hearth at the center of them all (though how the smoke from the flame wasn't filling the room was its own question), a room for remedial lessons for those apprentices who had been slacking on their training, so on and so forth. Eventually, we came to a large door with that design of a serpent eating its own tail engraved on the wood and then painted in a dark green to stand out even more. Similar to the entrance to the staircase above, this door was also guarded by one of the Grays. And, just like the one upstairs, we had to go through the routine of naming ourselves and our business.

I went first. "Wizard Alistair Brandth, reporting to a summons."

"Conjurer Olan Licht. Likewise."

As the Gray scanned us and returned to its neutral state, I gave Olan a once over. He took notice of this and gave me an odd look, a silent question of "What?"

"You're still a conjurer? I thought you moved up to wizard already."

"Bah, I don't have time for those exams and such," he spouted. "Got too much work to be done at home right now. Just had us our second kid, after all." When he said that, he noticeably puffed out his chest in pride.

"Well, congratulations on that."

"Speaking of," he said, nudging my side with his elbow, "when's you and that little lizard lady of yours gonna finally have a kid? Been a while since the marriage."

"You say that as if you think we haven't been trying."

"Oh, I don't doubt that." He gave a laugh and added, "I wouldn't be holding back either if I were you. I still remember when me and Moira were in that first year after the ceremony. By the gods, the crazy things we got up to. I remember once, Moira had this idea of using butter and cream and--"

"Ok, that's more than enough," I exclaimed, swerving the dwarf right off the subject, fearing he might reveal a bit too much information.

As we spoke, we pushed open the door and walked through a short tunnel. The candles along the walls didn't even have holders, they were simply suspended in the air, supported by a simple flotation spell. Kind of an odd choice, considering the wax would just end up on the floor. Or at least, I thought so, but when my eyes darted down, I saw no evidence of spilled wax. Maybe another spell was the culprit, one I didn't quite know?

The tunnel's end was in sight already when the door was opened, and I could see it was a large square room, so unlike the more rounded ones behind us. On the far end was a large table, stretching out to accommodate five people all facing us. These were the most senior members, the masters, the ones with the highest authority on the Council, including the head of the Council himself, in the exact middle of them all. I'd met at least two of these people before, but couldn't recall one of their names. In the center of the room sat two lone chairs, almost assuredly put there for Olan and myself for this very meeting.

As we passed beneath the doorway exiting the tunnel, the booming voice of the orc on the far left of the table greeted us.

"Wizard Brandth and Conjurer Licht, thank you both for responding to our summons so swiftly. Please, sit." His voice was loud enough to bounce off the walls, leaving a slight echo. He, like all the others at the table, was a rather aged fellow. His blue skin had paled over his years, leaving him colored like a clear day's sky, rather than the deep sapphire blue that was common for his people. Pointed ears, like knives, jutted out from the sides of his head. Like the others at the table, he was garbed in a black robe clasped together with a pin depicting the Council's logo.

I knew this elder orc man to be known as Higgs. He was one of two I knew at the table.

The other was the female elf sitting beside him. Snow white skin almost shined in the dim light from the candles, and it made me wonder if one so pale could even walk around in daylight. Though most of her was hidden beneath the robe she wore, it was easy to see she was thin, almost too much so even. Her robe hung very loosely on, as if it would fall off if not for that pin holding it all together. Her hands were clasped together on top the table, and her fingers were long and as thin as the rest of her. Almost skin and bones, her fingers were. I suppose that was the best way to describe her physique in general. Despite how striking her appearance could be, I never remembered her name. I'd only met her twice before, though.

Olan and I took the offered seats and waited to hear why we'd been called. It didn't take long.

The man in the middle seat, the head of the Council, stood up and cleared his throat. Though I'd never met him personally, I knew of him. Master Kahr was what one would typically imagine when they hear about spellcasters and sorcerers. Old, wrinkly, a beard too long for proper grooming, eyes that had a lifetime of stories behind them, even a smoking pipe with a selection of sweet-smelling somethings burning within. Some had said Kahr was the oldest living member on the Council, and he certainly looked the part. The wrinkles adorning his face were like a roadmap of the tired and weary life he'd lived. Light blue veins crisscrossed his hands like spiderwebs. As he pushed himself up from his chair, his arms shook briefly, but he seemed to fight to overcome it, albeit not as successful as he probably wanted.

None of the other seniors there looked quite as...traveled as he did, to put it lightly.

"Let's cut the point, shall we?" Despite his age, his voice had not taken notice of time, and was as loud and authoritative as any man half his age could be. "As was noted in your letters, Lady Ghalestris called this meeting. She claims to have had a vision of something off-putting to the south, near the border with Barrick." He paused, looking down at a slip of paper before him. "She has sensed something, in her words, disturbing, and wishes it to be investigated at once, calling upon the Council to do so." Kahr's eyes darted up to my face, then over to Olan's before continuing. "It appears her vision was some kind of building, a tower to be precise, which has seemingly manifested itself out of thin air. Locals are claiming it must have fallen from the heavens."

"Well, that's just absurd." Olan barked out his words without even thinking.

Kahr's face morphed into a slight frown. Not full on angered, just annoyed for the moment. "Be that as it may," he stated after the interruption, "the tower is there. Reports from the locals say it just showed up the other day, and we're sending the two of you out to look into this matter."

"With all due respect, sir," I voiced, "why send us?"

A red-scaled kobold to the far right answered me in a heavy, rough sounding feminine voice. "Because the two of you are in need of motivation. Both of you have not progressed in quite some years."

Similar to Higgs, this kobold's scales looked to have paled over the years, as small flecks of a brighter crimson peeked out in odd places. Spiraled, ram-like horns curled from the top of her head. She had an old scar along the side of her bottom jaw, and the scar traveled along the long snout, ending just before touching the front of her thin lips. Eyes the color of dead grass were trained on Olan and I. It wasn't as unnerving as one might think, actually.

Sat beside her was the final master, another human. He was like a copy of the headmaster, only his skin was a darker shade, and his hair had yet to go fully gray. The salt and pepper look suited him, I thought. His blue eyes were bright, and the wrinkles around them gave his eyes the appearance of being constantly squinted. Though his mouth was set in a firm line, there were deeply pronounce laugh lines along the edges of his cheeks. He was likely a very warm and friendly person outside of his Council duties.

The kobold's words weren't entirely wrong. For the last seven years, I'd been stuck at the rank of wizard, unable to move beyond it. It wasn't out of any desire to remain in my current status, but more of not having the opportunity I'd wanted. To move from a wizard to a magus, one had to prove to the Council they deserved a spot among the higher class of the organization. I had been thinking of ways to impress the senior members, but all my attempts seemed too...uneventful. Not as stunning and grand as one would imagine befitting the title of 'magus.'

For Olan, his reasons for not rising up made sense. He had other, arguably more important things that needed his attention.

"So, this tower," I probed. "Do we know anything at all?"

Kahr answered me swiftly. "According to the reports from the nearby citizens, the door is marked by odd runic symbols. They failed to give much detail on that part, so I'm hoping you can sketch some copies for us to examine upon your return." He waved a hand, and Higgs retreated from the table, off to the side of the room, where a small chest of drawers sat, which I hadn't even noticed before now. Had it even been there to begin with? Higgs rummaged around some while Kahr got my attention again.

Headmaster Kahr explained, "Other than that, we know little. Lady Ghalestris's vision warns of impending danger, so take precaution with this investigation. If something seems out of your league, take the hint the universe is giving you and remove yourselves."

While Kahr was giving this warning, Higgs returned to the table, holding a few items in his hands. I could see a book of some kind, a small leather bag filled with I couldn't tell what, a box no bigger than one that would hold a ring, and what looked to be a brass whistle.

"Now then," Kahr said, pulling my focus right back to his wrinkled old face, "back to the topic of the runes. Along with making copies of those, we would like you to write down a report of everything you see during this mission of yours. Even if it might seem insignificant, jot it down anyway. You never know what could prove important down the line, after all." An unsteady and shaky hand gestured to the items Higgs brought over. "We shall provide you what you need for this trip. You'll be flying down there on griffons, so it shouldn't take too long to complete this job. And upon your return, you shall both be offered a promotion in the ranks, to magus."

Flabbergasted, I felt my jaw hit the floor. Olan's reaction wasn't much off from my own. I mean, an instant ascension in the ranks isn't unheard of, of course, especially for someone whose been tasked directly by the most senior members including the headmaster himself. It's happened a few times before. But still, you never think it would happen to you, and yet, here it is. The opportunity to prove myself I'd be wanting, with a guaranteed promotion on top of it all, like a pretty ribbon on a present.

It was enough to almost make me laugh like a fool. The feeling bubbled up inside my throat, and I had to nearly bite my tongue just to stifle it. I thought to question it, not entirely sure this was real, but the better side of my mind won out and told me not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Where does that saying even come from? Such an odd phrase.

Before I had the chance to say anything, the dwarf beside me stood up and exclaimed in an overly enthused voice, "I accept!"

Turning to me, the red kobold asked, "And you, Brandth?"

"Absolutely, of course I accept," I stated without even a second of hesitation.

The wrinkles on Kahr's face shifted and changed until eventually, a smile beamed out from his lips. "Excellent. I was hoping neither of you would turn this down. You shall leave at dawn tomorrow, so get some rest, have a good meal, say farewell to your wives and children, and be ready."

With that, he dismissed Olan and I, but not before having us collect the gear Higgs retrieved. I found that inside the leather bag was an assortment of high value coins. Not the kind you'd haggle with a shop owner down in the market square, no, these were the pricey types only nobles threw around. I expected this was supposed to be used to pay for any and all expenses for our preparations. Once the gear was collected, Olan and I retreated with a quick bow to our superiors.

Outside the door, with the Gray at our backs, we took a deep breath to take in all that happened.

And then we laughed.

~~~~~

The next morning, we were ready to depart. Olan arrive first, having waited for me at the fountain in the residential district. Thankfully, the morning wasn't as ruthlessly cold as the previous day. Of course, that didn't stop anyone out on the street, myself and Olan included, from wearing their heavy coats, cloaks, and whatnot to buffer from a possible freeze. My eyes took in Olan sitting down on the rim of the empty fountain, staring off into the distance while he waited. At his feet were a few bags; the supplies he used the money the Council provided us to acquire. Judging by the bulges in the sacks and apparent weight by the way they slouched to one side, he'd gotten his hands on just about everything we'd need for this little expedition.

He saw me walk up, stood from his makeshift seat, and smiled his friendly smile.

"Alistair. Long time no see," he mocked.

I matched his joke. "Ah...Olan, right? Been some time, I almost forgot about you."

A little chuckle fell from his lips. "So, how'd the wife take it? Moira's a bit upset not to have me around for a bit, but was pleasantly surprised I was offered the magus title."

"I'll assume 'pleasantly surprised' it just you covering for her yells of excitement?"

While shaking his head, he raised his hands in an 'oh well' gesture and said, "Ya know how she can be sometimes."

I told him how my evening went. When I had returned home after the meeting with the headmaster and others, I told Serisi everything. She had a giant grin, showing off those sharp little teeth of hers, as I mentioned the promise of moving me up to magus status. She became a little bundle of happiness, knowing how long I'd been planning on making my move.

Nodding along, he interjected. "She give you a goodbye 'hug?'" He put heavy emphasis on the word, and I could figure what he was actually asking.

A roll of the eyes and I answered, "Not really any of your business." Reaching into my pocket, I retrieved my knife and cut off a piece of loose string on my cloak sleeve. "But, yes," I added after tossing the offending string aside. "If I'm lucky, this might be the 'hug' to finally give us a kid."

"Ya know, I don't think they even told us what the tower might look like," he said, changing topics.

After giving a yawn from the fact I didn't get the rest I actually needed, I mouthed off. "It's a tower down southways near the border. Probably gonna be hard to miss."

"Hm," was his only response as he scrunched up his face.

We set off at once to a stable near the west side of the district. Before we left the archive the prior day, some young scribe caught up to us to tell us where our transport would be waiting, as well as one tiny detail the masters forgot to mention during our meeting: we'd have a dragonforged with us for this investigation. Apparently, Lady Ghalestris insisted on having one of her own on this. I didn't understand why that point mattered, since our reports would do just fine in my opinion.

The dragonforged bothered me due to the fact they only answered to Lady Ghalestris. Unbound by other laws, they were given freedom to act as they saw fit, whatever they felt was needed to accomplish what the fair Lady tasked them with doing. This included such things as ignoring magical law and code set forth by the Council. Sure, these people did good by the country, fought off monsters too strong for the Red Wings to deal with, dealt with the goblin problem whenever those little red beasts popped their heads up, and all in all they were likely the best defense Valentine had from any opposing countries. But still...

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't even notice we were fast approaching the stable as well as the person the Lady sent to accompany us. From our current distance, I could see they were one of the lanky and pale elves. Their alabaster skin looked almost shiny in the sunglow. The fine white hair atop their head was cut so short, it was hard to distinguish against the white of their skin. They were in a close-fitting set of leather armor, light enough to move easily in and hopefully sturdy enough to take a few blows. As we approached, they gave a small nod, and walked the rest of the distance to meet us halfway.

"Morning, gentlemen," he said, his words coming out in a slight accent. It sounded like a Kalkish accent, but I couldn't be sure until I heard him speak more. The two of us gave a little grunt of acknowledgement each. When the dragonforged offered a hand, neither of us returned the gesture, forcing the man to awkwardly drop it. I took notice of his eyes; diamond slitted pupils surrounded by an eerie green iris. Supposedly, all dragonforged shared this trait. They were the same eyes as Lady Ghalestris, so I suppose it made some amount of sense.

"So," he breathed after taking a moment to collect himself from that little embarrassment, "I guess you're the ones the Council chose for the job, eh? Well, name's Folsin." Yea, I thought, that was a Kalkish accent after all.

"Brandth," I responded, eyeing this Folsin person up and down. Going off of his rather twig-like appearance, he didn't seem like much, but of course that didn't really mean anything.

"Licht," Olan introduced himself, and walked on towards the stable.

As I followed after my fellow mage, Folsin stepped in beside me and pondered, "Brandth? I've heard about you."

A bit startled by this information, I looked at him with a brow cocked up. "You have?"

"Sure. About a year ago, you worked with one of my fellow dragonforged, Germain. He told me you were tracking down a rogue witch who'd used some mind spells on poor folks."

The memory shot up to the forefront of my mind instantly. Mental magic was a forbidden act, and so the Council demanded the woman be brought in for trial and imprisonment. I could still remember the nearly lifeless way that witch's victims shambled about their farmstead. They had nothing in their eyes, no life, no joy, no anything. It was disturbing, to say the least. I could also still, very clearly remember the way this Germain had used the same spells on the witch herself. 'Giving her a just punishment,' he had called it.

I gave Folsin another grunt of acknowledgement before picking up my pace, leaving him behind. I didn't want to have anything to do with his kind, but if I would be forced to have him around, I would at least try to watch my tongue.