Thortimer — Roleplayer Guild

Marcus didn’t have time to observe his desperate attack on the bug mage as the knight yanked him out of the sands. He was secretly thankful the Knight was so insistent on Marcus joining him. He’d surely die out here if left to his own devices. Especially with whatever heretical magic was being cast by that bug. He had just began noticing the entirety of Vicena’s desertscape melting around them. He was awestruck at the sheer level of material manipulation the bug mage was projecting. How far did this beast’s power extend? Dealing with that creature would surely require the experience of a master Magus, perhaps more than one.

Marcus hardly had time to reflect as the Knight man handled him back to Mischief. Somehow, through all this, that damned stubborn horse had remained. The nerve of this animal was as steely as any creature he had seen. Marcus heeded the Knight’s instruction and climbed on, or was rather shoved on by the knight. Mischief didn’t protest the rough mounting, probably more pleased to be leaving whatever hell on earth this was becoming. Even here, the land was still becoming soft and liquidic, as if the whole of the desert was turning to a sandy sea.

As they rode, Marcus desperately tried to maintain his composure, to keep himself from quaking in his boots. He was covered in sand. It was hard to see. It was hard to breath. Everything ached. He could hardly thing straight. He had suddenly been thrust into what an apprentice had no business being in. He was horribly out of his depth. Surrounded by creatures he hardly comprehended and now perhaps a captive of an Aretan Knight, he felt more hopeless and powerless than he ever had. Even now, as they were escaping that bug mage, he could feel the residual magic from it thrumming around them as it resculpted the landscape at its whim. The mountains were gone… All of them. At least this level of magic wouldn’t go unnoticed. Surely the other Magi in the area were feeling this, too. Someone would know how to deal with this creature.

His attention was redrawn ahead of them as the Knight began shouting about something in the distance. It was had to make out in the thick fog of sand whirling in the air, but the closer they got, the clearer it got. It was soon apparent; it was the Aretan Standard. Even shrouded in all this damned dust, it was unmistakable. And those were more giant bugs. What on earth kind of invasion was this? Where did these creatures come from and why now were they choosing to rampage across Vicena?

Marcus turned his head to the Knight as he questioned his sanity. “Sir Knight, if you’re insane, we’ve both been drinking from the same chalice. I see it, too! That’s your standard. The Royal Standard, if I’m not mistaken. And… Giant… Ants…” He felt distinctly like they were no longer going to be finding safety any longer. In fact, things may be becoming much more dangerous for himself now, Marcus thought. “You’re going to ride us right into that mess, aren’t you?” 

Perhaps the Knight was insane, just not for the reasons he claimed. He could feel the horse speed up as the Knight spurred it on. He was riding them right into that mess. Marcus could only hold on and hope the Knight wasn’t getting them killed. Or that the Aretan royal knights wouldn’t kill him once everything was said and done. He held his staff tightly, praying they wouldn’t meet another of those wicked bug mages. They were all surely doomed if it was another of those damned bug mages.
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