Spell Engine Delta - Prolog Part III
From Black Country Role Playing Society
The quill scratched and squeaked on the parchment, then annoyingly dripped ink, which splattered messily. Lieutenant Deveraux let out a blistering oath, and then began to hum, while waving her slender, fine boned hands over the paper, almost at once the ink spots faded away leaving only her neat loopy writing. She rolled up the report and placed a block of sealing wax into a low burning candle flame and dripped the resultant wax onto the edge of the scroll before removing an ornate ring and sealing the scroll. She looked up as a soft cough sounded from the entrance to the tent.
“Yes Willheim?” she asked in a bored tone of voice
“New recruits have arrived boss.” Replied a lanky balding man
“Oh great…” she said sarcastically “More children and farmers for the grinder.”
“Actually boss, the one look like a right hard bastard and a Warforged.”
“Really?” she said genuine surprised look upon her face “Let’s take a look then.”
Deveraux shuddered at the cold as she left her tent; Willheim ducked back into the tent and grabbed a cloak which he skillfully draped over her shoulders.
“Thanks” she muttered, as he did up the clasp
She eyed a small stocky man wearing banded mail with a greatsword on his back, and a smaller than normal Warforged with a slightly pearlescent sheen to the otherwise dull grey armour.
“Name, rank and number” Deveraux asked the stocky man
“Mearl Draygonson, Private in the Breland 92nd heavies, 149638. Ma’am”
“Why have you been assigned to me?”
“Our division got scragged in our last fight, there were so few of us left that the general disbanded our remaining units and sent us out as reinforcement.”
“Your entire division got killed?” asked Deveraux shocked
“We got caught in the open by Valenar cavalry. The few of us that were left alive were reassigned to the reserve pool.”
“Tough break…” Muttered Willheim
Deveraux nodded “Fine, the sergeant here will find you any missing kit and get you a billet.”
“At once boss” Replied Willheim and with a gesture for the other to follow walked off
“So…what do we have here?” Asked Deveraux
The Warforged stood silent and impassive
“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.” She said a look of faint annoyance crossing her otherwise beautiful face
“I’m afraid, I do not understand.” Answered the Warforged tonelessly
“That’s adamantium armour isn’t it?
“Yes” replied the Warforged
“When you address me, you call me Lieutenant, Sir or Ma’am.” She rebuked sternly
“I apologise sir, I am unfamiliar with your customs.”
Deveraux sighed deeply “Fresh out of the creation forge?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you have a name?” she asked
“My official designation is Spell Engine Delta, sir.”
“Too long” decided the woman “We shall call you Sed.”
“As you wish, sir.”
“I take it you are some type of cleric?”
“No sir, I have been given the knowledge of magecraft.”
“Magecraft? You mean you are an artificer?”
“No sir, I am a mage.”
“I was under the impression that mages couldn’t cast spells in armour.”
The Warforged remained silent
“Well?”
“Was there a question sir?” asked the Warforged
“Are you telling me that mages can cast spell in Armour?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why don’t they?”
“I believe it is because few are trained in its use and the constriction and loss of co-ordination interferes with spellcasting, sir.”
“This doesn’t apply to you?”
“I also have no skill in the use of armour, sir.”
The Lieutenant looked at the Warforged quizzically “But that is Adamantium armour?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But you are trained it its use?”
“It is not armour really, It is my body, sir.”
“It doesn’t restrict your spellcasting?”
“It does sir, one in four of my spells fails.”
“Fantastic…” she said bitterly “I suppose you can always throw a few fireballs at the enemy.”
“No, sir.”
“Why not?” asked Deveraux
“I have not reached the level of mastery to be able to cast 3rd circle spells nor do I possess knowledge of evocation magics.”
Deveraux clutched her head “So you’re a specialist mage then?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Which schools you lack?”
“Evocation, Conjuration and Necromancy. Sir”
Deveraux sighed deeply “Typical, all the useful ones.”
“WILLHEIM!”
The lanky figure appeared practically at once
“Some joker sent me a useless pile of scrap metal, find somewhere to put it, where it won’t get damaged.”
“Ma’am?”
“It’s a specialist mage without any useful spells. I’d dump it but I’d be charged for it, so I guess you got yourself a new packmule.”
“It looks a little puny really”
“What do you bench Sed?”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand, sir.”
“The maximum weight you lift.”
“180 Lbs, sir.”
Both Sergeant and Lieutenant sighed deeply
“When I find out who’s responsible for this joke, I’ll slit them from crouch to throat.” Said Deveraux bitterly “The only saving grace is that the bloody thing won’t get tired.”
(Back to Spell Engine Delta - Prolog Part II)
(Back to Back Story - Spell Engine Delta)
(Back to Red Hand Of Doom)
(Back to The Characters)
