“How can you expect to call yourself a powerful sorcerer? You are just throwing balls of light at me! You may fool drunkards, with that light show, but me!” Jeran raised his two-handed morning star once more. He spat on the ground. “You magi are all the same.”
“And you criminals are all the same. Especially the brainless ones.” The hooded man replied. Jeran sneered. He charged the man, who nimbly stepped aside. As Jeran turned, a ball of blue light smashed into his face. He felt chilled by it but otherwise unfazed.
“Again with the balls of light. At least you actually hit me with it this time, boy! Maybe when you actually get one of those real spells, you could take on the likes of me.” Jeran slammed a beefy fist on his chain-mailed chest. He refreshed his grip on the gargantuan mace. He focused his mind, closing his eyes. Took a deep breath, planted his feet in the gravel beneath his boots, allowing it to crunch a little.
Suddenly, a red ball of light hit each of his arms, warming them slightly. A pair of blue orbs of light touched each of his legs, just below his knees. The robed man took off his hood, revealing a young man with jet black hair, that shimmered violet in the sunlight. His eyes were an icy blue. Though he was young, his eyes revealed not just confidence, but knowledge too.
“No, Jeran, I am exactly as powerful as I think I am. There is always more to learn, however, but nobody knows these spells.” Jeran laughed.
You expect me to believe that these little lights that felt like a breeze denote power?” Jeran asked. The robed mage smiled as one of Jeran’s arms exploded in a fiery blast. Jeran shouted in pain and disbelief.
“My power is not shared by others. These balls of light, are actually very complicated spells of my own making. For example,” The man stopped as Jeran’s other arm erupted in red flame, knocking him to the ground. The morning star, still held by a detached fist. The mage walked over and picked it up.
“Now, Jeran, you stole a hefty sum of money from my family. I only want the money. Now that you are, shall we say, unarmed? You will tell me where you stashed it.” The man said quietly, almost in a whisper.
Jeran, wracked with pain, tried scooting away from the mage. He didn’t get very far, because his legs froze in a flash of blue light.
“I won’t tell you anything, you demon-spawn!” Jeran howled at the mage.
“That may not be true. See, because I can do this!” The mage brought the morning star down on Jeran’s left leg. It shattered into a million fragments of enchanted ice. Jeran shrieked in pain as his eyes rolled back. The mage leaped onto his chest.
“No, you vapid waste of flesh! You will tell me where you hid those coins! You do so, and I will give you back your limbs!” The mage yelled.
“Prove… It…” Jeran uttered, coughing blood up. The mage stood back and focused himself. Jeran was encased in a shimmering white fog. When it cleared, he had both of his arms and his missing leg.
Jeran was agape. “You are as powerful as they say. I’ll tell you,” He said as he stood up, “But only if you tell me your name.” The mage paused, smiled and replied.
“My name is Rowin.” Jeran chuckled.
“Well Rowin. I guess I will tell you. I stashed your coin in a stump by that stone bridge just out by the tavern. But, I’ll get there before you ever see it!” Jeran charged Rowin, but collapsed in seconds. With a flash of blue light, Jeran’s head became ice.
“Not so good with memory, are you Jeran? No matter. Thank you for telling me where the money was stashed.” Rowin said as he dropped the morning star on Jeran’s head, shattering it into bits.
Rowin walked away, towards the cobblestone bridge, whistling a happy tune to himself.