[Mkguild] The Illusive Chain: Coincidence (13/?)

[Nathan Pfaunmiller]

Tonight's update posted from my iPod, so hopefully it formats correctly.

-LurkingWolf

___

Nathan was waiting a single bend of the hallway away from the door when Balrog emerged, shaking his head in clear disagreement with his commander’s antics.  The wolf scowled in return, but softened a bit.  Having time to think about what had happened was clearly wearing through his resolve.
 
“What are you thinking, Nathan?” the mage asked, rapidly closing the distance to his commander.  “We need to help Lois as quickly as possible.  If the magic already has a foothold in his mind then there is no telling how long we have until he is beyond our help.  There are risks, but some risks must be taken.”
 
“I do not argue that, I am trying to protect you.  I do not need to know much about magic to realize that this spell you are discussing would require a lot of power.”  He waited to let his point drift home, his tail sliding against the stones of the adjacent wall.  “I know that you cannot cast powerful spells while maintaining your illusions.  There is enough tension in that room without you revealing your secret.”
 
“With all due respect, everything was rather calm until you had your outburst, sir.”  The use of the title was as much for shock value as for actual respect.  Although their respective ranks entitled Nathan to some amount of respect, Nathan had never insisted on any sort of title and Balrog never used one.  “I do appreciate the concern, but you have already revealed your own secret.  To insist on keeping my own out of fear would be selfish.”
 
Shaking his head, the wolf nevertheless conceded the point.  “All right,” he muttered.  “I do not think it wise, but I know you well enough to realize that convincing you to abandon this folly is beyond hope.  Rest assured, I will be prepared to intervene should things get out of control.”
 
“Don’t,” Balrog insisted.  “There may be shock, and weapons may be drawn, but I believe that these people are level-headed enough to keep their cool long enough to hear an explanation before decapitating me.”
 
Nathan chuckled at the darkly humorous exaggeration, leaning his head back against the wall and pointing his muzzle towards the ceiling.  “You had best hope that your theory is correct,” he commented.  “I don’t think I need to tell you that any one of them could easily kill you.”
 
“You assume that I would reveal myself without immediately erecting the strongest defensive spells I know,” he quipped, giving a sly wink.  “A simple steelskin spell will at least slow a hasty blade.”
 
For the first time in the course of the conversation the black wolf gave a genuine smile and a wag of his tail.  “I worry far too much about you, it seems,” he admitted.
 
“As one friend to another, I would not have it any other way.”  Balrog gave Nathan a playful punch to the shoulder.  “Just don’t go stirring up unnecessary drama in the future.  Remember, it’s more likely that I’ll save your life in a fight than the opposite.”
 
“You save me, old man?” Nathan scoffed, giving an exaggerated roll of his eyes.  “I’ll remind you of that after I’m finished prying Lucy off of your face in five minutes.”
 
Balrog chuckled and turned back towards the closed door to the meeting chamber.  “Come on; if you’re going to be rescuing me from militant children in a few moments we had best start by provoking their ire.”
 
Nathan followed dutifully behind his friend, his amused smile momentarily disguising his concern.  He hoped that Balrog was right, but he would not be caught off guard if the opposite proved true.  He briefly held the grip of one of his weapons, feeling the familiar texture of the decoratively carved wood, but released it after only a moment.  He would honor Balrog’s request unless the situation truly spun out of control.
 
*​*​*
 
The return of the two soldiers from the hallway found the remaining Keepers already deep into the task of discussing the appropriate spell for their use.  Balrog entered first, but all eyes were on the wolf behind him as the two of them entered.
 
“I want to apologize for my outburst,” he apologized.  “I merely wish to advise caution as we proceed.  The last thing we need is for a spell to go wrong and create even more serious problems.  If you feel prepared to proceed, I will defer to your better judgment.”
 
“In manners of magic, it is often wiser to defer to the mages,” Lucy snarked in reply.  Immediately growing more serious, she nodded to the wolf.  “I appreciate the apology.  I suppose it is as likely my fault as anyone else’s.  If I hadn’t come here so early this morning we could all have enjoyed a little more sleep and avoided such tension.”
 
A few nervous chuckles were the only response to her suggestion, but it still represented significant progress towards deflating the tension in the room.  Balrog stepped forward.
 
“What have you decided so far?” he asked, making an effort to quickly change the subject.
 
“The spell itself I can create on my own with little problem, but actually casting it may be another issue,” Lucy replied.  “Any way I think about it, I cannot see any manner in which it would not require a massive investment of power.  While a fetish stone simply completes what the Curse already started, our efforts would be attempting to fight against the Curse.  While I could postulate that the countercurse might help a little bit, we still have to contend with the fact that Lois is evidently not doing anything to aid our efforts.”
 
Balrog nodded his understanding while looking about the room.  “I suppose that our efforts would be aided by an enchantment of some sort?”
 
Lucy nodded.  “For safety if nothing else,” she confirmed.  “I should be able to draw the lines myself, but it may take quite some time.  I don’t suppose either of you would be able to help in such an effort?”
 
Julian shook his head as he responded, “No.  I am a battlemage, nothing more.  While I could perhaps sketch some rudimentary enchantments for myself, I hardly feel that I would supply any help to anything of this scale.”
 
“Fortunately, I do have experience with enchantments,” Balrog replied.  “As a matter of fact…”
 
His hesitation was more than enough to tell Nathan what was coming.  He stretched as he felt the nervous tension trying to lock up his neck.  While he had promised Balrog that he would not intervene unless it was vital, he still made a point to put himself in an advantageous position.  If things did snowball out of control, he did not want to be caught out of position.
 
The hesitation also drew the eyes of everyone in the room, which was likely Balrog’s intention.  He was clearly feeling the tension as well, but as a man who was so often faced with the need to diffuse situations gracefully he remained composed regardless.
 
“There is one thing I have told very few people which I feel should be revealed to you now so that it does not cause problems later.  Nathan already knows this, but this is a secret that I have trusted only to a select few people who I would call friends.”  He walked a few steps so that he stood at the center of the room.  “I will warn you in advance that this revelation can be shocking, so I hope you will respect my trust in you by controlling your reactions.”
 
Before anyone could question his words he made a single gesture, and cut the flow of magic that constantly fed the illusions around his body.  While a few of the scars that marked the skin through his illusions still marred the true off-green hue of his skin, quite a few of them morphed and coalesced into a miasma of interconnected runes that ran the length of each arm, around the back of his neck up onto the dome of his bald head, where the lines joined to into a single, intricate sigil on his forehead.  As the magic left them, the runes died from a radiant blue glow to show that every runes had been sketched by a knife, the scars arranged with remarkable precision across his skin.
 
To those watching the important change was that the human man that had been working with them for more than a day changed utterly, showing that beneath an expertly woven illusion stood a lutin.  Lutins were hardly an uncommon sight for them, but this was the first time in many years that Alex and Lucy had met a lutin that was not actively trying to kill them.
 
To their credit, Julian was the only one whose blade emerged from his scabbard with a harsh whisper of steel against leather.  While Nathan immediately placed himself between the moondog and the lutin, it was Alex who halted his companion’s actions.
 
“Julian, stay your blade!”  The moondog leveled a glare at him.
 
“He’s a lutin, he’s the enemy!”  He remained rooted where he stood, however, and made no move towards the lutin.
 
“He is a friend.  He has neither threatened us nor made a move to attack, and he revealed himself of his own will.  Stand down!”
 
“What of the war, sir?” Julian hissed.
 
“Our war is against Nasoj and his scum, not lutins,” Alex replied.  He took a breath to calm himself before continuing.  “I realize that you have missed some recent events due to your recent escape from the North, but Metamor has begun to foster alliances with the lutins.  Times are changing; you cannot simply attack a man because of his appearance.
 
“Thank you for your vote of confidence, sir,” Balrog said, nodding to the lynx.  It was clear in a moment that his voice had not been modified by illusion at all.  The gruffness was still there, but so was the impeccable understanding of Common speech.  He took a deep breath and played with his beard, another part of the illusion that proved genuine.  “To tell the truth, I have been living among your people for far longer than the peace accords.  I am nearing my twentieth year of living among humans, and I have never regretted it.”
 
Lucy approached him slowly, her focus solely on the enchantment that the lutin had sketched into his own flesh.  Balrog permitted her inspection, even helped her by showing her the marks on his arms.
 
“These are scars,” she said.  She looked appalled.  “Did you do this yourself?”
 
The lutin nodded.  “All shamans of my tribe are heavily tattooed in this fashion, and it is considered a mark of weakness to allow another man to mark your skin for you.  The process took me three days.  My predecessors have attempted to do it in one night before, but many are the stories of those who died in the attempt, or were driven mad by the pain.”  He smirked.  “Also, few are those who have attempted to weave an enchantment over their own bodies as they worked.”
 
Lucy shook her head.  “How?  I mean, your arms perhaps I can understand, but your neck?  Your head?”
 
Balrog winced.  “That was another reason for the length of the effort.  I was forced to use magic to sketch those lines.  To do so without wavering while using magic and in pain was hardly a simple matter.  As you can see, however, I was successful.”
 
Lucy crossed her arms and shook her head as she marveled at the complexity of the enchantment.  “Well, you can say whatever you will about him, but whether he’s a man, a lutin, or a werewolf, I would kill for a hand that steady.”
 
She got a chuckle from most of the room.  Even Julian finally relaxed enough to slide his blade back home in its sheath, although he did so with clear hesitation.  Still, Balrog nodded to him gratefully, a nod which was returned with honesty despite Julian’s hesitance.
 
Nathan continued laughing for a few moments after the others had stopped.  “Well, I was expecting quite a bit more trouble than that,” he admitted as he made a clear show of removing his paws from his weapons.  “I will admit that I was quite a bit more difficult to reason with at first than any of you, Julian included.  Of course, the Keep had not yet been making open alliances with the tribes, but that is neither here nor there.”
 
A few more chuckles responded to this admission, and there was at last some semblance of peace in the room once more.  There was tension, understandably more than before the revelation, but it was nothing that could not be worked through.  Considering the difficulty of the effort that awaited them, however, even a little tension could derail their efforts.
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