Mages Bones: a serial fantasy story by Tommy: Chapter 2

Gilarean’s quarters were opulent to say the least. He had always been a show off, and even when there was no one to show off to he still tried. He sat in a plush armchair, sipping from a bottle of 60 year old deep, dark, red wine, which he had paid a band of adventurers handsomely to recover, along with its 35 follows, from the depths of a local baron’s vault. It was past midnight, and he knew that beneath him, both literally and figuratively, the guild would be busy. He shared the topmost levels of the Highest, and broadest, tower of the Guildhouse with Nicairius, his second oldest friend. He was reading a book that he had stolen himself from the intricately locked bedside drawer of the High Priest of Calandex. The fact that Nathaniel would have leant him the book, and also that he would be returning it as soon as he had read it made little difference to Gilarean, sometimes he just couldn’t help himself.

He had started life as a swordsman, but as a half elf he had lacked the bulk and strength to wear the heavy armour that warriors traditionally bore, and quickly learned that the best way to avoid being hurt was not to have the thickest armour possible, and hope to withstand the damage, but to not get hit in the first place. He had learned to fence using lighter and sharper swords, and soon realised he was quite good at it. He had been hired as a scout occasionally, helping out with adventurers and explorers who needed someone with the ability to make sure the path in front of them was safe enough that they could go lumbering down without worrying about trip wires or hidden archers.

It was while doing this work that he realised that the bulk of the treasure that these adventurers were seeking was hidden and secreted in little hidey holes… the sorts of places he was forever finding while checking for traps and alarms. He had spoken to Zane, who was also a scout, but was the more reputable type. Zane knew the land and was like a walking map, who people hired to get them from one place to another if the road didn’t lead directly there. He too had been a warrior, and decided that it was safer and more lucrative to be the one the other warriors needed to keep alive, and this had proved to be the case. When Gilarean and Zane had finished their conversation the Scouts’ Guild had been formed.

The Scouts’ Guild had been successful, people hired scouts for various jobs, and paid the guild, the guild trained the scouts and paid them by the job, the scouts also made whatever they could on whatever job they were on, and that was the key to the financial success of the guild. Gilarean and Zane worked out that the best way to find all the loot and gold and best bits of treasure. It was wisest to have a scout at the front leading the way, and a scout at the back making sure “no one was following”. It was the second scouts’ job to scour rooms, tombs and vaults for all the hidden trinkets, and by using this method they had themselves become quite wealthy in a very short space of time. They put their guild members on trust, and expected a ten percent cut of whatever they skimmed in this manner. The members were receptive to the deal, and things went well. The guild, however, attracted quite a few potential members who believed that it was a front for a Thieves’ Guild, as the two often went hand in hand… After a year of serious prosperity, Gilarean decided that the Thieves Guild idea warranted some further investigation. A year later he was living in an expensive keep, with a small private army guarding it, and was in joint charge of one of the largest and richest organisations on The East Coast.

A year later he had become bored.

He had known Ambrose and Nicairius from his old tavern days at The Mad Mystic, and when he met them in town one day and they decided to have a drink and catch up, it transpired that all were at something of a dead end. Both the wizards had finally achieved Master status, but were never going to gain rank within the Guild of Arcane Lore because they were too free thinking and some might say, “Opinionated”. Gilarean explained to his friends how easy it had been to set up his Guilds, and put forward a proposal.

Simply that, if Nicairius and Ambrose would make him their first student teach him magic, he would pay for the Guild house and set up costs.

It took very little time and effort to convince them, neither wanted to be involved with the College any longer, and when Gil had shown them the number of magical tomes and scrolls he had acquired throughout his career, they were happy to let him spend his money and contribute his artefacts to the Guild. Gil’ had had no idea that the differences in the two types of Guild would be so enormous. The two Guilds he had been in charge of practically ran themselves and involved him counting the money while a couple of administrators did the paperwork and dealt with the clients. The members wanted nothing more than to be out, working… earning!!!

Not the bloody mages though.

Gil had never met a more demanding bunch… They wanted teaching… all the time, they wanted to know more about where this flower came from, or how that crystal worked, or why Dragon Scales were so rare, or why gorgon venom was so dangerous to handle… Nicairius and Ambrose were very good at dealing with the members, and Gil’ was good at dealing with the potential clients. As soon as a Guild Tower had been built in Tasskurr, business started to happen. Local dignitaries had wanted enchantments, and magical trinkets, and adventurers wanted potions of invisibility, and protective scrolls, and all manner of weird and wonderful requests came across his desk almost daily. New members joined daily, and new requests for magical solutions to problems came in thick and fast, it was a busy time, and the heads of The Guild of Arcane Lore in Minsturr weren’t pleased either. There had never been a serious challenge to the monopoly of the Guild in the teaching of the arts to aspirant magi, and while the college had never objected to wizards who took apprentices in their own homes and taught them outside of the Guilds methods, to set up in direct competition was not something they had ever anticipated. They had sent missives to the Tasskurr upstarts, Gil’ had coined the name “The Hermetic Order of The Silver Sphere.” He didn’t really know what it meant but he thought it sounded impressive… They requested that they cease their business dealings forthwith, and hand over all goods and chattels to the Guild.

Gil wrote back to say, “No.”.

The Guild invoked an ancient law they had “discovered” in their archives that stated that the teaching of magic was the provision of those tutored in the ways of the Weave as handed down from the initial teachings of the Gods of Magic and Knowledge.

Gil’ replied that all those doing the teaching had been taught that, and that anyone being taught would indeed be learning those same things, and that he was very sure that the ancient laws didn’t decree under which specific name the teaching took place; and, more importantly, who got paid for the teaching.

The guild tried to belittle the Silver Sphere by joking in public that it was “stupid to have a guild of Hermits” to which Gil replied in a polite letter, after someone explained it to him, that “Hermetic” referred to the old word; “Hermes” which was one of the ancient names of the God of Magic, and if the Masters of the College wished to take a class in “History of the Craft” he could offer them a discount.

The College stopped joking.

An ultimatum was sent through to Tasskurr; a challenge. The College would send one wizard and the Order would send one wizard, and both would do combat using magic. The winner would have the choice over how the two guilds would exist, or not…

Gil accepted, on the condition that the duel be to the death.

The College had sent Jeunir Lockleaf a Master of The Element of Fire to do battle, and Gil had sent himself. He was still only a mage of the 4th Circle of Power and was years away from attaining a Master Rune of his own, but he had something the College wizards didn’t. Years of experience running a thieves Guild, and all the money influence and treasures that had come with that position. For example, Gilarean had years before come into possession of a belt that protected the wearer from fire, he had a ring that did similar, and had bought half a dozen potions of Fire Resistance. He wore a suit of light elven chainmail, which had been fabricated specifically for him on the High Isle of the Elven Triumvirate. Everyone knew that if you carried or wore too much metal, the power of the runes would earth, and spell casting was dangerous. In fact many had exploded from attempting anything beyond a 2nd circle spell while carrying a steel sword in their hand. What “everyone” didn’t know was that certain precious metals not only didn’t have this effect but, in fact, were capable of focussing runic power and making spells either stronger or easier to cast… Gilarean’s armour was made from Star-Stone alloy, and was very much in the precious metal category. His sword had been gifted to him by Falstaff, the High Priestess of the Common Church, years before she had become so. She gave it to him as a reward after he had helped her adventuring group free their friend from an Earth Elementalist, and she had used it to kill an ancient werewolf along the way. The sword was god forged silver carrying a permanent Blessing, and was as near to perfect as any blade he’d ever held.

The whole ensemble had had exactly the effect he had hoped for; Jeunir had taken one look and thought they had sent a mere warrior. They each stood at one end of the large oval arena and Jeunir’s confidence that there was no way a swordsman could reach him to strike before he had all but vapourised him, he began the lengthy tirade as to how, such “a pitiful guild could only put forward such a pitiful specimen of a mage…” and so on. He had got about two words of his planned belittlement out of the way before a lightning bolt tore through him leaving him badly wounded on the floor. He managed to very quickly throw up a force field, and used the time it gave him and began to work on healing himself, while Gilarean began to work on the unravelling of the binding enchantments that held Jeunir’s Fire Elementals in place. Once he had finished the main part of the spell and only needed to utter a final command word, he too threw up a, larger, force field around the pair of them and waited for Jeunir’s protection spell to wear off. The moment it did, a rejuvenated and healed Jeunir set forth his elementals to roast the flesh from Gilarean’s bones. As they were but inches away Gil had simply spoken the word “freedom” and the binding was broken. All of Jeunir’s Elementals were freed and not too happy at the years of imprisonment. They had a few scores to settle before they departed for the Plane of Fire… Gilarean’s belt, ring and potions protected him from the onslaught, and the force field prevented Jeunir from escaping meaning that he had no time at all to protect himself from his own Fire Spirits. When the force field finally faded, and the not inconsiderable amount of smoke had cleared, Gilarean was left standing, completely unscathed with the body of the world’s foremost authority on Fire Magic smouldering away on the floor. From that day on, the College had never contacted him again, and he had never claimed his prize.

It was a sensible arrangement, he thought, that if he left them alone, they would leave him alone.

He had always promised himself to one day tell Nicairius and Ambrose about everything that had happened with the College, but he thought they would only worry and complain, and maybe get angry at him for not telling them sooner, and now, nearly twenty years on, he thought he’d probably just leave things as they were.