Arc Reaction: From the life of
Anthony Krafts - Ironclad
Prologue: The Last Quip
The streets of Neverwinter always
bustled with motion, from entire caravans of cargo to the lone
wanderer seeking a place to stay at the local inn. The struggle to
restore the “Jewel of the North” to its former glory required
participation from all walks of life from artisans and engineers, who
are tasked to rebuild the structures, to the mercenaries and
adventurers hired to keep the peace both inside and outside its
walls. The cultural diversity that followed was all but natural.
Chaotic but lively seemed the apt description. From the city gates to
Protector’s Enclave to the docks, the amount of foot traffic was
staggering. However it was a different story during nighttime. While
most of the streets are illuminated candlelight, the pervasive
darkness of the narrow alleys and low passageways all but obscure the
dark dealings that take place within. The shadows crept from corner
to corner like a hunter.
The night belonged to those who would
exploit the darkness and tonight was no exception.
A man in crimson robes glided across
the shadowed cobblestone alley his form showing no motion for haste,
yet the gleam in his eyes glowed in anticipation as he turned each
corner, his lips curled into a wicked smile as the sounds of
footfalls drew nearer.
‘So close now’.
A sudden gust of wind buffeted his
robes as he turned the corner, kicking dust into the air that
would’ve blinded him had he not held his arm aloft to shield his
eyes.
“Deflexio!”
Four missiles of light slammed into a
nearly transparent shield of force. Had he lowered his raised arm a
fraction of a second too late, the missiles would have found their
mark.
“Improvisation!?” He smirked at the
other figure floating in mid-air. “It seems that some of you are
capable of some sort of cognition.” The red robed man rose
into the air with but a thought.
“But ultimately… Futile.” The
robed man sneered and closed in on the other, who while clad in plate
armor, nursed his left arm and breathed heavily. “Now…” The
robed man raised his arms in expectation. “Struggle for me.”
The armored man raised his right hand
and completed a flurry of gestures, “Incurtus Ulcor Imperio.” A
bolt of lightning rushed from a hole in the armor’s chestpiece and
raced towards the robed man, who lazily lifted his arm in response.
“Malus Hotentus Harum”. A spherical
shield suddenly enveloped the robed man and seemingly absorbed the
lightning. “Yes! Struggle in futility you wo-” His voice trailed
off as the globe of invulnerability winked out of existence and a
firebolt hit him square in the shoulders.
“Flagrantia Rubicans!” The man in
robes retaliated in furious indignation. A crimson bead sped towards
the man in armor and exploded with violent force, melting and
shredding parts of his armor while sending him plummeting to the
ground below.
“Your metamagics will not avail you
worm!” With a sudden shift in weight the robed man sped after the
fallen sorcerer, landing only a few feet from him. “Ah, this is the
part where you whimper in pain,” The red wizard muttered another
incantation and sent an arrow of acid splashing on the sorcerer’s
armor making the man underneath grit his teeth in pain. “But you
and your brothers never do cry out in pain or beg for mercy.
You almost take out the fun in killing you.” The red wizard began
gesturing for another spell. “Almost…” he continued as he began
the incantation. A purple ray leapt from his fingertips and raced
towards the armored sorcerer until out of the moonlit darkness
another man in armor landed between them and erected a barrier of
pure force to absorb the blast.
“Slaine!” The interloper yelled.
“You’re finished. I’ve just informed the Harpers of your
experiments and they’re on their way to lock you up.” The new
man-in-irons raised both arms locked in gestures. “You used
me. You used my blood to create these Solid Simulacrums. My affinity
with lightning spells made my clones the perfect vessels for
supercharging with electrical power and then after you’ve made them
do your bidding you’d consume them through some sort of ritual to
further augment you magical power.”
The red wizard gave an amused smile.
“Very good Anthony, very good…” Slaine mocked Anthony with
light clapping. “It’s just a real shame that the only thing the
Harpers will find is your smoldering corpse. Flagrantia Rubicans!”
Once again a fireball erupted in a fiery blaze. “I’m the better
evoker!” Slaine finished with a sneer.
A figure emerged from the inferno in a
sudden rush of movement, Anthony charged at the red wizard, flying in
at high velocity, and delivered a flaming punch which sent him flying
into a wall.
“Who said I was an evoker?” Anthony
grinned as he once again closed in on the red wizard.
“Sagitta Magica Series Ignis!”
Slain quickly fired as he struggled to stand. Six rays of fire rushed
towards the iron-clad wizard.
“Incantus.” The rays hit a
semi-transparent shield as Anthony thrust his palm forward. “Getting
sloppy there old man.” He set down in a stance as he began
executing a series of punches upon the red wizard.
“You-” A punch hit Slaine in the
nose. “Barbari-” Another in the gut. “Gah!” Slaine groaned as
he was too late to counter a well placed thunderwave.
“Enough!” A sphere of bright light
suddenly surrounded the robed wizard just as Anthony rushed in for a
stomp. Anthony tried a couple of jabs at the sphere before he started
casting a spell. But before he could finish the sphere disappeared on
its own. “Incendium Gehennae!” Another fireball, but of greater
intensity, burst behind Anthony and sent him flying past Slaine. “The
all of you are beneath me! Flagrantia Rubicans!” Another fireball
sent the iron-clad wizard through a wooden shacks’ wall, before
another fireball obliterated the entire structure. Slaine obviously
taxed by the magical exertions still looked very much pleased with
himself as he stared at the smoldering ruins. As he turned to walk
away a sudden voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Uh uh, I didn’t say you could
leave.” As Slaine turned to look Anthony plowed him with a blazing
tackle and pinned him to the ground. He then proceeded to pummel
Slaine in the gut then the head. A split second later Anthony was
sent flying though the air held aloft by a translucent hand.
“You’re-” Slaine spat out blood.
“-out of your league, boy!” He angrily smashed Anthony to the
ground then hurled him through another shack before igniting another
fireball.
Bloodied and burned, Anthony still
staggered forward out of the rubble.
“How?!” A frustrated Slaine all but
screamed.
“Not an evoker, remember?” Slaine
could picture the smirk on Anthony’s face even with the helmet
visor down. Anthony gestured to dispel the Bigby’s Hand but was
instead grappled by it.
“And now… to end you-” Slaine
stopped mid-sentence as he saw what Anthony was holding. “How
did-?” He began patting himself down as though to confirm the
theft.
“Took it when I pinned you to the
ground. Noticed you hung it on your sash. You really should tie a
string on your wands just in case they fall off. Been fiddling with
it for a while now, identifying the enchantment and working to modify
it-.” Anthony trailed off as he was thrown and pummeled by the
Bigby’s Hand. The wand pulsed with magical energy just as the
construct dissipated.
“You are broken, and will soon
perish,” Slain triumphantly strolled towards Anthony’s prone
form. “But don’t worry, your so-called brothers will join you in
the afterlife soon enough.”
“Nope,” Anthony answered back. “I
know this wand connects me to them. I know it siphons off a tiny part
of my psyche to all of the clones, just enough for you to empower and
command them. I know I may not be able to beat you-” Anthony
coughed up blood as he struggled to speak. “Since you’re an
archmage with the glowstick of destiny and all that… But beating
you was never the point.”
The wand’s pulse grew brighter. “Wha-
What are you doing?!” Slaine yelled, his mind running multiple
scenarios on what Anthony could have done. But before Slaine could
act a bolt of lightning sent him flying towards the adjacent wall,
its source was the other armored spellcaster, Anthony’s ‘brother’.
‘I’ll channel my psyche and
magical power to the rest of the simulacrum. With enough willpower
they’ll be able to break free from the wand’s domination. They
can use my mind to process external stimuli, to finally… live.’
Slaine began casting a more potent
spell in desperation, only to have it fizzle before completion. He
looked around find the source of the counterspell only to find not
one but two completely identical Sorcerers before him. “Stop you
useless cattle!” He exclaimed, causing both sorcerers to stop
advancing. “Return to the laboratory or I’ll-” Two bolts of
lightning hit him squarely in the chest and cut off his spiel. Now
badly wounded, Slaine desperately attempted to cast a teleport spell
working his gestures and incantations furiously, but as the spell
neared completion it winked out, countered.
“Abjurer…” Anthony said as a
matter of fact.
The two armored sorcerers, knowing that
Slaine, even though injured, was still a formidable opponent, didn’t
let up on their attack as they sent two more lightning bolts racing
towards the cornered wizard.
“Even with this…” Slaine
sputtered, as he landed next to Anthony. “You… lose… ” He let
out a guttural laugh even as he coughed up blood. “Your mind…
won’t be able to handle the strain. You’ll be a husk…” Slaine
gloated.
Anthony found that he couldn’t
respond to the to Slaine’s words. He felt his mind stretching and
thinning. Like a web of strings his thoughts became tangled in a sea
of dissonant whispers and he knew that to drown in it would destroy
his sense of identity. He found so many thoughts wanting to be heard,
so much sensation needing to be interpreted and so much intent
waiting to be put to action. He knew that he had to bring order to
the cacophony that was his brothers’ thoughts and awareness to the
void that was their identity. However, he also knew, that to do so
was to intentionally dive into that sea of thoughts and be cast
adrift forever lost in the expanse.
But first…
“I… I… ah… Ant~hony…”
Anthony could barely string the words together as he shifted get a
better look at the red wizard “f-flips the f-finger at the d-dead
man beside him…” To which his body responded by raising
aforementioned middle finger at said dying red wizard.
As the light from both wizards eyes
fade so too did the light from the wand. Both wizards lay motionless
on the cobblestone street and the voices of both armored sorcerers
started to fade as Anthony slipped into unconsciousness.
‘Dammit, why can’t it be young
ladies saying my name?’
