Wizard, Thief, Warrior (Tales of Magic and Adventure Book 2) Read online

  Wizard, Thief, Warrior

  Tales of Magic and Adventure Book 2

  Max Anthony

  © 2017 Max Anthony

  All rights reserved

  The right of Max Anthony to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed upon the subsequent purchaser

  Cover art by Yuriko Matsuoka

  Cover typography by Shayne Rutherford

  http://www.wickedgoodbookcovers.com/

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  1

  Having recently escaped the clutches of an unnamed death god’s high priest, Rasmus the Wizard and Viddo Furtive did not rest on their laurels. They remained for a short time in the modestly-sized city of Gargus, which was located in the warm northern region of the continent of Frodgia. In this city, they could have hired the use of a room and spent several comfortable months drinking and eating their way through the modest collection of coins they had managed to pilfer during a recent exploration of a vast underground city they’d accidentally stumbled upon.

  They did not do this. Rasmus was a man who preferred to be doing things, rather than sitting around imagining that he was doing things. Many wizards, he knew, gained enjoyment from poring over their spellbooks for hours or even days on end, researching new varieties of unexciting spells. Not so, Rasmus. For him, reading his spellbook was a means to an end and nothing more. He liked the result, whereby he could cast any one of a huge array of admittedly highly-destructive spells, but the eye-straining study did not appeal.

  Viddo was a man who had what were known as itchy feet. During his misspent youth, he’d quickly learned that stealing a loaf of bread was a poor challenge. Equally, most people generally carried less than half a dozen copper coins in their pockets, so the tales he’d heard of wealthy pick-pockets appeared to be something of an exaggeration, if not an outright lie. Viddo did not crave the life of a scruffy urchin, spent eking out a handful of low-denomination coins before dying to a sword-thrust from an over-zealous member of the city guard. This particular thief had ambitions and the skill to match them. His ambitions had carried him to many places and to many new experiences. Now, he found himself in the company of the aforementioned Rasmus. They were friends, though they occasionally engaged in good-natured verbal sparring that could have fooled the casual onlooker into thinking otherwise.

  “When are we going for another look down there?” asked Viddo, referring to the lost city they had so recently escaped. The two men were in their favourite drinking hole, where they had been spending rather too much of their time and contributing rather too freely into the retirement fund of the Five Hounds tavern’s proprietor.

  “My ankle is still a bit swollen,” said Rasmus, taking a sip of his ale. The wizard raised one leg and gingerly wiggled his foot. He’d twisted it during their escape from a powerful undead creature which they’d convinced themselves had once been the high priest of an old god. “I could probably walk on it for a while, but I don’t think it would hold up for long if I had to escape from a room full of pickaxe-wielding reanimated skeletons.”

  “I feel that our mission is incomplete!” said Viddo, as if his protestation could somehow hasten the healing processes of the wizard’s injury. “There were so many secrets left for us to find and I feel it incumbent upon us to return as soon as we are able!”

  “What mission?” asked Rasmus. “I’ll admit I had a strong interest of the city’s history, as befits my academic status. However, I am not fooled by your pretence of noble aims – it was a desire to pilfer that drove you to explore.”

  Viddo didn’t grace the wizard’s nonsense with a reply, since it was the latter who was wearing a pair of appropriated magical boots, a ring of minor dodging and with an equally appropriated wand shoved up his sleeve. Whilst Viddo had claimed a hand-crossbow of considerable worth, he had already managed to convince himself that Rasmus had gained three prizes to the thief’s one. Then there was the matter of the two enormous diamonds they had stolen.

  “Let’s get these gems flogged and afterwards we’ll see if we can find the cave that leads into the underground city again,” Viddo said.

  “Not so fast!” said Rasmus. “My magical resources are heavily depleted after our last excursion! I will need to return to the university in order to top up on my fireballs, lightning bolts and so forth. Furthermore, I don’t believe we should resume our quest for ahem knowledge without acquiring further assistance.”

  “You think we should bring someone in?” asked Viddo.

  “A third and possibly a fourth might provide us with the necessary additional clout to overcome the worst of the obstacles. Remember, we might not have come across the most powerful of the underground denizens.”

  “I am in agreement with you. What do we want? A fighter? A cleric?”

  “How about we aim for both and see what turns up?” replied Rasmus.

  “I must confess that I prefer to work in smaller groups than four,” said the thief. “It’s harder to sneak about unseen with lumbering-plate wearers crashing around in the vicinity, wearing their clodhoppers and alerting all and sundry to my presence.”

  “I’m sure you’ll manage,” said Rasmus with a dismissive wave of his hand. “And just think of the extra opportunities you’ll get for backstabbing when all of our opponents are clubbing away eagerly at our metal-clad companion.”

  Viddo’s eyes lit up for a moment at that, before another thought came to him. “Let’s say we successfully hire a fighter, a cleric or both. We’re over a month away from the university where you need to travel in order to study your spell book. Are we seriously expecting our new party members to traipse all that way in the sweltering heat of the north Frodgian summer?”

  “I think perhaps we might find one or two colourfully-described suggestions as to exactly where we can insert our proposed expedition if we added two months of walking as a condition of hire,” mused Rasmus. “Regardless, I believe we should sound out the local adventurers and see if any of them are available in the near future. There may be some who are willing to wait, or indeed at such a loose end that they will gladly come to the university with us.”

  Viddo privately thought that they’d be wasting their time by interviewing so far in advance of the job, but kept his mouth shut. Luck had been known to smile on him at the most appropriate of mome
nts, so he rarely dismissed anything outright. “I suppose it’ll give me time to move on these two enormous gems,” he conceded. “I don’t like carrying them around with me in case I drop them down a drain or something.”

  He reached into an inner pocket and fished out the two diamonds – huge, brilliant white and perfectly-cut, they had, until very recently, formed the pupils of a towering statue’s eyes. Around them at the bar, the jaws of strangers dropped open at the sight of these eye-wateringly valuable items. One or two pairs of eyes popped from sockets and another man almost fell into a swoon. No-one was stupid enough to try and muscle them away from Viddo, though one rat-like individual did sneak out of the back door in order to inform a local crime lord about what he’d seen.

  “Once you’ve obtained a fair price for our spoils, we can equip ourselves more suitably for the return trip,” said Rasmus with satisfaction. The wizard noticed Viddo shifting uncomfortably in his seat at these words and enquired as to why that might be so.

  Viddo grimaced at the question, aware that his answer was about to make him look foolish. “It’s just that I don’t like spending the rewards from one adventure on preparations for the next,” he said.

  “Why ever not?” asked Rasmus, puzzled beyond measure.

  “There’s usually nothing better to spend the coin on, but you know, it feels like a waste somehow. I expect to take what I want from the dungeon I’m exploring, rather than having to pay up front for it. Sort of like trading yesterday’s loaf of bread for a fresh loaf of bread today, but without ever getting to taste it.”

  Rasmus shook his head. “I have absolutely no idea where you get some of your ideas from,” he said. “The way I look at it is that I could spend a hundred coins in order to earn two hundred coins in return. I’ve never heard anything quite so odd as your loaf of bread analogy.”

  Viddo knew he was being foolish, but had never been able to shake the idea that he was wasting his money when he spent upfront before a dungeon expedition. He was aware of what an investment was, and was not a stupid man, but not everyone is fully rational about everything. “I didn’t say that I never spend the money,” he said lamely. “I simply don’t like doing it is all.”

  Rasmus said nothing more and the pair lapsed into silence for a few minutes. The mind of each man was now whirling with thoughts of the future, leading them to finish their drinks quickly, instead of enjoying them leisurely.

  “Why don’t you sound out the local gem merchants in order to see how much they’ll give us for the diamonds, while I pay a visit to the adventurer’s guild?” asked Rasmus.

  “It’s hardly gone half past nine in the morning,” said Viddo. “I am not certain if many clerics are aware that the day begins before noon.”

  “I need to do something,” said Rasmus. “I think I’m starting to become bored of my days being filled with fifteen hours of boozing.”

  “I suppose you’re right. A pickled thief is an unsuccessful thief. Or at least I am told that it is so.”

  They rose from their seats, causing the tavern owner a great disappointment, since he had hoped to extract many more coins from the pair over the coming day.

  Out in the street it was beautifully warm. It was not the sort of warmth that results in one becoming caked in sweat within five minutes, but the sort of life-affirming warmth that cheers the soul and causes one to tie one’s shirt about one’s waist. The Five Hounds tavern was situated on a not particularly well-to-do street, which was poorly cobbled and covered in a mixture of sand and dried mud. A group of six men, one of whom had the visage of a rodent, loitered in a manner which they thought was inconspicuous, but which immediately told Rasmus and Viddo that they were either looking for trouble, or a couple of fist-sized diamonds.

  Shortly, there were not six men on the street, but two chickens and four men. After another minute had passed, two further men were lying on the ground clutching at their balls and the remaining two had fled empty-handed.

  “There’re only three charges left in this wand, now,” said Rasmus, waving it around theatrically in the air. “Think I should use it to turn these two wheezing gentlemen into chickens as well?” he asked.

  “It’s tempting, isn’t it?” asked Viddo. “But I would recommend you save the magic for another occasion.”

  Rasmus looked marginally disappointed at this advice, though the two parted ways without argument.

  Viddo spent the better part of the day speaking to the local gem merchants, trying to peddle his wares. Unfortunately, such was the size and magnificence of the diamonds that he was unable to find anyone in Gargus who was able to muster up a fair price. There were plenty who were willing to try and convince him that they were mere baubles and even more who tried to bully him into accepting a pittance for the items, but not a one who could simultaneously act with integrity and meet Viddo’s price.

  After many hours of trying, Viddo resigned himself to the fact that while he was a very wealthy man, his assets were entirely lacking in liquidity and likely to remain so until he took himself off to a larger and richer city.

  “A larger and richer city, such as Trilbus,” he said to himself, aware that this was the location of Rasmus’ university. Checking the sky, Viddo calculated that it was almost time for him to seek out the wizard and find out how he’d got on with his efforts to hire a fighter or cleric. As he headed his way to the agreed meeting location, he passed the Gargus library. It was a two-storey affair of faded magnificence. Most of the bigger towns and cities had similar libraries. They’d build them to show how enlightened the populace was, only to rapidly lose interest at the vast costs of upkeep. Many libraries were destroyed in mysterious fires, while others went completely forgotten and unvisited. It was not unheard of for a library building to simply collapse. Because of this, the role of librarian was known to be fraught with danger and only the boldest or most suicidal of individuals would apply for the position.

  The Gargus library was better maintained than most and Viddo spend several hours inside, poring over ancient manuscripts and stealing one or two just for the sake of it. Eventually, he emerged unscathed, but aware that he was several hours late for his meeting with Rasmus.

  “I’ll bet he’s going to be a bit pissed off with my tardiness,” muttered Viddo to himself.

  He was correct and found Rasmus at the agreed-upon place between the slaughterhouse and the public toilets.

  “Why did we decide to meet in this spot?” demanded Rasmus hotly. “It stinks to high heaven and the place is teeming with beggars hoping to snag themselves a free parcel of guts.”

  “I wasn’t aware that the slaughterhouse was charitable enough to donate their spare guts to the poor,” said Viddo, seeking to distract his friend.

  Rasmus was not to be deflected and spent the next fifteen minutes haranguing the thief over his lateness. Viddo suppressed the urge to sniff at the wizard’s robes, since he didn’t want to inflame the situation by highlighting the fact that there was definitely something malodorous in the vicinity. Soon, the invective tailed off and Viddo took advantage of the opportunity to inform Rasmus that he’d been unsuccessful in selling their diamonds.

  “So that’s both of us who have failed to complete our allotted tasks,” said the wizard, clearly deflated.

  “You’ve not managed to find either a fighter or a cleric who is willing to come with us?”

  “Nope. It turns out that all of the fighters in Gargus are low-level. Weaklings, if you will, and entirely unsuited to beating the shit out of dread knights or shrugging off the effects of powerful death magic. In fact, a couple of those I spoke to looked like they’d fall down dead as soon as a giant rat squeaked in their direction.”

  “Where are all the high-level ones?” enquired Viddo.

  “Gargus isn’t the biggest city in the world. They probably think there’s nothing worth coming here for.”

  “When in reality there’s potentially one of the biggest sources of plunderable wealth far below our feet,”
said Viddo. “I’m glad in a way. I would not like to have to elbow my way through packs of other adventurers in order to locate whatever loot may be down there.”

  “Precisely!” said Rasmus. “We should count our blessings that we have the first bite of the cherry. And blessings are exactly what we won’t have, since I couldn’t locate a suitable cleric either. There were a couple of likely-looking types, but none of whom would agree to come to Trilbus with us. On the plus side, one of them took sympathy on me and cured my ankle!” To demonstrate this, Rasmus jumped up and down a few times to show what a nimble spring chicken he was.

  “You’re aware that even the feeblest of clerics could have healed that, aren’t you?”

  “Yes of course I’m aware,” Rasmus said. “But this one had all the kit to go with it. Full plate armour, magical mace. The works.”

  “If only he’d agreed to come with us, eh?”

  “Yes, a shame. On the other hand, the fellow managed to make at least twenty references to the great god Brintee in the ten-minute conversation I had with him, so perhaps it was for the best. I can’t imagine that it would help my concentration having to listen to such lectures in the middle of combat.”

  Viddo considered asking for more details about the wizard’s attempts to locate suitable assistance, but didn’t pursue the matter. He’d already convinced himself that it had been a wild goose chase anyway, and that they should have waited until Rasmus had completed his preparations.

  “I assume we’re not going to dawdle in Gargus any longer than necessary?” he asked.