The Accidental Archmage by Edmund Batara (read out loud books .TXT) 📕

the spell hit. To avoid the deadly spell, Jorund

must have taken a position a few feet behind the barricade. It was the first time Tyler

saw the warrior in action. The man must have enhanced movement on top of his other

protective runes.

With unbelievable speed, he rushed the blinded dokkalfr, first killing one with a thrown

knife. Then he was among a group of five, his battleaxe swinging expertly, cutting limbs

and heads indiscriminately. It was clear that Jorund went first for incapacitation instead

of lethality. Nice move, thought Tyler. He could come back and eliminate whoever he

didn’t kill immediately on his first pass.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tyler spied Habrok already among the trees, in a fast pace, bow drawn, and moving to the back of the dokkalfr band. As Habrok stopped, he

let fly arrows again. He was an exceptional shot. Every arrow hit their mark though in a

few instances, two arrows hit a target in quick succession. Making sure, Tyler observed.

But he couldn’t cast a spell since Jorund was like a whirlwind darting in and among the

trees. The warrior’s movements left Tyler unable to target anyone. After a while, Jorund

stopped and walked back, pausing at times to finish off a crawling and

bloody dokkalfr warrior. Habrok disappeared from his sight. Probably to check the back

of the woods. After Jorund was done, Tyler let down a rope and went to the man.

“That was a good fight, my lord,” commented Jorund when he saw Tyler coming. The

man’s armor was coated with blood. Red, he observed, dokkalfr also had red blood.

What was that quotation by a known writer? All of God’s children got hemoglobin?

“They’re all done?”

“Yes, my lord. Though Habrok is still doing his rounds to make sure nobody escaped or

is following this group.”

“Are you hurt? You’ve got so much blood on you that I don’t know which is yours and

which is theirs.”

“Only small cuts from the debris resulting from that fireball, my lord.”

Tyler went to the warrior and cast a quick healing spell. Jorund markedly straightened

up.

“Thank you, my lord. Your skills impress me.”

“Thank me when this is all over. We better start gathering their armor and weapons.

We may be able to use them. Are you good with a bow?

“Passable, my lord. I can hit a deer at a hundred paces.”

“Good, get one and as many quivers as you can. I forgot to get you one back in

Scarburg. With two bowmen, we can do double casualties at a distance. Come, I want

to see the body of the night-mage.”

The night-mage was dressed in a black hooded robe, tied at the waist with a leather

belt engraved with symbols. Tyler wondered how Habrok was able to kill him. The

mage must be protected against arrows. Is it because he just cast a spell and was

concentrating on the flight of the fireball? He searched the body and found three small

runic plates. He gave them to Jorund. He'll have somebody look at them back in town.

The night-mage was tall and slim for a dokkalfr but true to form, he had dusky skin,

almost grayish. His eyes and mouth were open, though Tyler noticed the face was

heavily tattooed with runic symbols up to his bald pate.

“Not your typical dokkalfr?”

“Yes, my lord. Tall for one. Must be a noble.”

Noble dokkalfr are taller than the norm? Interesting.

“You want to start stripping them? How about their bodies?”

“I can start already, my lord, but bodies will just be buried in a shallow grave here, just before the trees. If scavengers start on them, the better. Their body parts chewed on

and scattered around will put a little fear on anybody who follows. This site is far and

low enough. The smell won’t reach our campsite but will disturb dokkalfr noses. I

expect more to come.”

“Riiiggghhhtttt. I'll be at the campsite. Please also ask Habrok to reset his traps

tomorrow. Also yours. I believe they were effective. Some of these dokkalfr have

wounds on their feet and legs.”

“That they do, my lord. That they do,” said Jorund with a tight smile. Tyler was

shocked. The man knows how to smile! But the circumstances for it were a bit chilling.

So this is war. Kill or be killed. I have killed. Why am I not bothered about it? Is this

how soldiers feel in battle? My conscience should be bothering me.

When Tyler woke up the next morning, a pile of weapons and armor were stashed on

one side of the cabin. But the bows and quivers full of arrows were placed inside the

hut. Some quivers were empty and he assumed their contents were transferred to the

others. Looking at the armor, he didn’t think anything could be usable considering the

size of the dokkalfr warriors. The weapons, on the other hand, could serve as last ditch

replacements for broken ones. Unfortunately, these dokkalfr carried no spears or

halberds.

He went to their cooking area. This time Habrok was the one tending to the roasting of

the deer he caught the previous day. Jorund was now the one on watch duty. When

Habrok saw him, he offered a slice immediately.

“Meat, my lord?”

“Thanks, Habrok. That was impressive shooting last night. I didn’t know you were that good. You even got that mage.”

“Not to brag, my lord, but I was Maljen’s archery champion for four years running. And

as for that mage, you just need to time the strike right. And a little help from this,”

Habrok brought out a small clay bottle.

“What’s that?”

“Weakens magical protection. Expensive but after a bad experience with a mad adept, I

decided to buy one for my arrows. Can only be bought in Hirdburg. That mad adept

had the same protection against arrows, went through half my quiver before I realized

it was hopeless. He got me good too. Lasted me a week to recover even with healing

magic. It took Jorund and Agnar to take him down. He was too powerful for a mere

adept, I guess that’s his reward for being crazy. Those two cut him to pieces just to be

sure. Though they saved his head as proof of death.”

Why am I not shocked about Habrok's story? Am I starting to be inured to Adar? Was

Earth this