Fizzle rode North from the town early, before the sun had peaked over the horizon to the east. This days work would not be pleasant and he had spent his morning brewing a variety of extracts which he was certain to use but hoped desperately that he would not. The man had become out of control with his new powers and would likely need to be put down, but there was a chance he could be brought to see reason. He deserved that chance, all men deserved that chance.
The Morning was warmer than the previous mornings despite the snow that still dotted the landscape, the last vestiges of a cold and in many respects brutal winter now melting away in the coming spring. Several plants had begun to sprout their buds above ground and he knew he should be gathering some of them for his work but there was no time to stop now. He carried his bow and broadsword with him and his potions and extracts clinker together slightly in the still morning. He wore the crest of the Academy and around his neck, in an elaborate amulet, hung his mutagen of choice for the day's chores.
Calia had given him that amulet last week when she finally said yes to his insistent proposals. They had spent the night entwined by the lakeside, their passion and his potions keeping them warm from that freezing night. She now knew more about him than any other person living. She knew about his shame that brought him to exhile from his family, about his failings and strengths through the past century. She even knew of the two decades he had spent as a bandit, robbing and murdering with bloody glee in a land far to the south where his name was still cursed. She knew of his past fiance and about the betrayal he had suffered at her and his father's hands that ended with him being sent to these lands. She knew it all and still loved him.
She did not know about this. This task he played close to his chest because it could bring ruin to his growing academy and perhaps shame to all the lords of Stagfell. This task needed to be handled alone and quickly. He knocked his bow when the farm came into view over the horizon, smoke coming from the chimney and wafting across the plains to his nostrils. As he approached he became aware of another smell faintly wafting from the farm, formaldehyde. For weeks his star student had been perfecting a method of preserving flesh. He was obsessed with the idea that a slaughtered animal could be preserved in a way to keep it fresh indefinitely. That had given way to his own desires to be "kept fresh" throughout eternity. He began using his unnatural skill with magic to raise the undead for his experiments. he had kept this completely off the radar until the morning Fizzle had visited him to help with his catheters. The bear that hung in the barn had not had its feet removed, but Fizzle had seen a skinned foot treated with chemicals twitch ever so slightly in a bowl on the worktable. By the time he realized what it was he was already in town. He had confronted Twitch in the Dragon's Rest Inn over the matter and had realized that his former student was lost to his obsessions. When reports of grave-robbing at Oleg's Outpost had reached his ears, he knew he could wait no longer to act.
Fizzle dismounted his horse, reached into his cloak and produced an apple which Stand Tall ate greedily, mist rising from his nostrils as he did. Standing between the barn and the farmhouse Fizzle could smell the acrid stench of death coming from the barn and knew his reasoning would not be successful. He said a quick prayer asking Sarenrae to give him strength, reasoning, and compassion for his task then drank his mutagen and called out to the house.
"FRANCIS GALTON, I WOULD SPEAK TO YOU THIS MORNING"
Footsteps coming down from the house and shuffling coming from the barn. The Elf slapped his horse and Stand Tall bolted from the yard, away from the kill zone Twitch had carefully laid out. Twitch appeared in the doorway of the house, dressed in black robes and carrying a carved black walking stick that came to his belt line and reeked of foul magic. Where he had managed to find it was a mystery to Fizzle, but the use of such a rod was surely beyond the little mageling, unless Fizzle had dramatically underestimated his former student.
"'I would speak to you this morning'" Twitched mimicked, adding a huffing laugh that could have been him clearing his throat. "Well then speak Magister Lanliss, I am your humble student." he gave an elaborately mocking bow as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
Fizzle could not smell the man, and his robes made no sound as they rubbed together. he scanned the windows and house line for movement.
"You know why I have come. What happened to the bright and promising student who came to me not a year ago wanting to improve the lives of the farmers of this land? Now I see a powerful and heartless wizard who robs the graves of their dead for their secrets."
Twitch gave another mocking chuckle which did not quite match his lips and more shuffling could be heard from the barn.
" I believe you have come to do more than talk, why else would you be armed to the teeth. And I believe you're taller than when last I saw you. Put down your weapons and come inside. We'll have a grand conversation, perhaps we can finish the one we began at the Dragon's Rest."
Fizzle slowly took his bow and quiver from his back and placed them gently to the ground. Then he unhooked his sword (loosening it from its scabbard as he did) and placed it to the ground as well. He took a step toward the house
"Very nice of you," Twitch called "But how about putting your weapons down as well."
"And your staff? do you plan to bludgeon me as I enter the doorway?"
Twitch paused for a second, then slowly, too mechanically he placed the rod on the porch. It made no sound as it touched the boards. Fizzle unclasped his bandolier of potions and placed them gently to the ground, now certain of what he was seeing. He made an effort to jungle them together as he did.
"Now, I believe we can have a civil discourse" Fizzle said and began walking toward the house.
Twitch frowned as he came closer. "No, magister, now you can die unarmed."
A bony arm shot up from the ground beneath the Elf and grabbed his right foot, wrenching him to the ground. Fizzle heard a distinct snap as his knee wrenched free from his femur and he hit the ground. His wind was knocked from him as his chest hit the dirt of the farmyard. More hands shot from the ground and grabbed for him, holding him tight and tearing at his flesh. He heard the doors to the barn fly open and several groans of anger rose and began moving toward him. This was not part of the plan, how had such a young wizard managed to work this kind of magic? Fizzle wrenched an arm free of his captors and reached for his bombs hidden within his cloaks. As a hand closed around his throat he freed a vial of catalyst and fuel and shook it vigorously, breaking the catalyst and activating the explosive. He smashed it against the ground and felt the rush of adrenaline as the bomb exploded, searing his flesh and gathering strength as the explosion moved outward. A fireball engulfed the small farmyard, sending boney hands flying in every direction and shattering windows in the farmhouse.
Fizzle managed to get to his feet, Stumbling a little on his bad knee and ears ringing from the explosion. He saw Twitch still on the porch, now laughing with glee and unaffected by the explosion. Fizzle turned to see what had come out of the barn and felt his heart stop as he recognized the shambling forms of farm animals stripped of their flesh and stampeding across the yard toward him. He reached into his cloaks and produced a vial of extract and drank it down. Taking a deep breath, he belched towards the small menagerie of undead animals and flames shot from his mouth, engulfing several of the beasts. Mad with undead rage, they howled toward him and he just managed to sidestep the horns of a burning bull as it fell to the ground and flailed, consumed with fire. As he did a goat which had been untouched rammed its head into Fizzle's hip, sending him spinning through the air and away from the burning undead to land on his bad knee which he felt go numb and flop uselessly beneath him. He managed to find another bomb and sent it sailing into the goat's head. It exploded with a horrified undead bleat and several more animals caught fire or came apart time as the explosion tore through their frail bodies.
Fizzle had landed near his discarded weapons. lying on the ground, he grabbed his bow and loaded it as he rolled to take aim at the illusion of the wizard standing on the porch, still laughing in maniacal glee. There, in the topmost window, he saw a shape move and loosed an arrow through the window. The illusion of the wizard vanished and so did most of the animals in the yard. The bull was dead, and there was nothing left of the goat. Scraps of pig and chickens could be seen burning around the farmyard. A single pig, eyes red with rage, came charging for the downed Elf. Fizzle rolled to his side and shot it through the snout. It fell instantly to the ground before him.
He reached into his cloak again and found an extract which he drank greedily. He screamed in agony as pain shot through his leg and he felt the bones and ligaments snap back into place and realign. Gasping, he pulled himself to his feet and reached into his cloaks for another extract. Drinking it, the world muted its colors and showed the shimmering outlines of several shambling human figures in the barn, moving slowly towards the doors.
Grabbing his Sword as he went, he rushed the doors and began closing them. a single rotting arm came through the opening and he hacked it off. Fizzle tossed two vials into the barn just before the door closed and felt the heat they generated as the alchemist's fire erupted. He secured the doors and turned to the house.
The real Francis Galton was shorter than the illusion he had created of himself but his eyes showed him to be every bit as mad as his spectre had been. Fizzle drew an arrow as he walked away from the barn, which was pouring smoke from between every board.
"Galton, what have you done here?"
"Arrogant old man! You have seem through my trap but you will not survive this day!" He had an arrow sticking from his left arm, which hung limply at his side. Behind him, Fizzle saw through his extract the shimmering form of a hulking half-orc, shambling its way towards the door of the house. Fizzle loosed his arrow over the head of Twitch, and it buried itself into the neck of the monstrosity. Twitch dodged out of the way and pointed a finger at the approaching Elf. Dark purple light exploded in a straight line from his finger and struck Fizzle in the chest. The ray sucked the wind from Fizzle for a second time and he fell to his knees, gasping for air. He managed to fire a shot at Twitch, but it missed his center mass and stabbed again into his left arm only inches from the first arrow. The undead half-orc let out a blood choked roar and charged the downed Elf.
Twitch landed badly and rolled off the porch into a withered looking rose bush, screaming and cursing. Fizzle did not try to regain his footing but instead began flinging bombs at the approaching hulk. Two of these went wild and exploded on the porch and through the window of the farmhouse, destroying the front wall and setting fire to the house. The third exploded just behind the undead monster and propelled it even faster towards the exhausted Elf. It lost its footing and stumbled headlong into Fizzle and they both went down with the half-orc crushing Fizzle under its weight. Fizzle felt his knee snap again and pain shot through his entire body, threatening to steal consciousness from him. He reached for a bomb but fumbled it and it fell out of his reach. The monstrosity reared back and began pummeling the tiny Elf with its fists and biting at his arms as he flailed to keep it away from his head.
Fizzle was dead, no getting out of it this time. His arms and legs began going limp as the hulk slammed him again and again, he felt the cold gathering around him and knew he would soon be back upon that rolling plane with the freezing ash swirling in his eyes. Another pummel from the creature's elbow and his limbs went completely limp. He opened his eyes lazily and could observe the creature howling above him in triumph, its green and black rotting flesh filling his nostrils with sick. The entire scene slowed to a crawl and he could feel his heart beating slower and slower in his chest though it had to be racing just before it would sieze and beat no more. Fizzle's head lagged limply to the side, spilling blood from his mouth onto the ground. In the distance, he could see as the sun just poked above the horizon. A single ray of sunlight drifted too slowly across the sky as if it were made of liquid instead of light. When it finally reached him what seemed like hours later, he felt a surge of burning energy fill his body and bring him back from the brink. The world filled his senses and time resumed its normal speed as his right hand felt the cold steel of his sword lying unsheathed at his side. The beast above him roared again, black and green blood spitting from its wound where the arrow had buried itself in its neck and raised its hands to smash through the defenseless Elf's chest. As it did Fizzle brought up the sword and placed the tip under its jaw. The half-orc did the rest. As it brought its head down the sword sank through its jaw and its weight brought the hulk down onto the sword, piercing its spine. It died again.
Groaning, with the weight of the rotting corpse bearing down on him, Fizzle managed to reach into his cloaks and grab another extract. He popped the top off the vial with his one working hand and poured the liquid into his mouth. As soon as it hit his tongue he knew he had made a mistake. His body convulsed and a mixture of bile, blood and fire spewed from his mouth and nostrils, setting the corpse on fire. Frantically, he grabbed for another extract and downed it, this one turned out to be helpful and he hauled the burning meat off his body with a single arm and threw it away before he could catch fire. Still unable to move anything but his right arm, he took his time finding the correct extract and drank it down. Immediately he recovered feeling throughout his body and managed to sit up. Bones and ligaments realigned and his horribly bitten right arm began mending itself as the extract worked to repair his tissues. It did not heal him completely, but it made it possible for him to stand and look around the barnyard. He belched again involuntarily and fire erupted from him again. God that hurts.
Twitch was still tangled in the rosebush, but quickly freeing himself. The house was beginning to flame nicely and would probably roast him alive if he did not get free quick enough. The barn was an inferno of flame and smoke.
'They'll see that from town' Fizzle thought. Not much time before neighbors start showing up and asking what happened.
Fizzle limped slowly across the yard to recover his bandolier of potions. Selecting the right one, he drank it and felt the potion work to repair his body further. His right arm was working again but still would need attention. He walked to the burning hulk and recovered his sword, the monstrosity gave a jerk when he freed his blade and Fizzle jumped, reaching for a bomb to put the thing down but he had none left. They were either used or flung free of him when he was tackled so he struck with his sword several times just to make sure the thing was not going to move. The rustling in the bushes stopped and Fizzle turned to see Twitch had freed himself and was looking dumbstruck at the scene around him. Their eyes met for a brief second, Fizzle tried to give him his best you're gonna burn stare and it must have worked. Twitch bolted.
Fizzle drew his bow again and watched the murderous coward flee across the empty plain. Drinking another elixir, he loaded the bow and took aim at the fleeing man. The scene slowed as he slowed his breathing and led the target. The bow twanged and he could see the arc of the arrow across the plain as Twitch ran god knows where. The shot struck a bullseye, hitting Twitch in the back of his right knee and he sprawled to the ground. Fizzle had another arrow ready to go, he was going to pick the man apart a piece at a time. How many lives had this man already taken? If he lived, how many would he ruin? He deserved death, he had surrounded himself in death and now he would be given his release. Fizzle brought the bow up and took aim. The rising sun began to warm him as he steadied his breathing, and he thought of his own past. He lowered the bow, loosing the arrow into the dirt instead of the man.
Drawing his sword, he walked to where the man lay, gasping and crawling, still trying to get away. Where the hell was he going? "That's enough, Mr. Galton. There's nowhere to go. I'm placing you under arrest in the name of the Baron of Stagfell."
Twitch whirled around and Fizzle could see the hate and madness in this man's eyes. He had been able to control himself until now, but Twitch had gone completely over the edge. Twitch drew a throwing dagger and Fizzle could see and smell the poison lacing the blade. His sword flashed and the man's arm came off at the elbow. Blood spurted to the plains and Twitch let out a howl of rage. His remaining arm barely worked and he fell to his back, bleeding on the ground.
"This isn't over, Elf! You have no Idea what events are already in motion. I will see you dead for what you have done here today!"
His Left arm flopped onto his chest and towards an amulet that hung there. Fizzle moved to slap his hand away with the flat of his blade but was too slow. A snap of air and Twitch seemed to implode upon himself, leaving Fizzle alone on the plain with a distinct smell of brimstone in the air.
Stand Tall chose that moment to trot up to Fizzle as he stood standing there. Sensing the danger was over, he was curious to see if any of the apples survived his master's silly little battle. "Thanks for the help, gluestick. I think you need to start hanging out with Balian's horse more."
A glint of red caught Fizzle's eye and he bent to retrieve Twitch's severed right arm. On it was a decorative bracer covered in glyphs surrounding a large red eye made of a dull and fractured ruby. The glyphs were unlike any language he had seen and the ruby eye seemed to stare out at him and into him. He quickly covered the item with a thick cloth and stored it into his haversack which Stand Tall was carrying.
"Lets go," he said handing over his surviving apple to his delighted horse. "there's a budget meeting at noon and Calia wants to meet for breakfast." The sun shone to their left as the headed back towards town, leaving the farm to burn to ashes. He quietly thanked Sarenrae for such a sunrise.
