Adventurer's Log

The sun had only begun its pilgrimage across the dull, morning sky when Thorn and Brimstone woke up from their peaceful slumber. A thin veil of mist was slowly making its way around the swamp, slinking its way around every willow and every rock until it had blanketed the entire swamp, concealing every pond and stream, every nook and cranny. And wherever the mist slithered, it left behind a trail of shimmering dew drops, which dampened the entirety of the swamp. In consequence, the swamp grew considerably more humid, much to the chagrin of the two adventurers.

“Well…I don’t know about you Brim, but I’d say I had a good night’s rest.” Said Thorn as she stood up and stretched.

“Aye…’Twas okay, I suppose.” Yawned Brimstone as he sat up from his resting spot. Brimstone then wiped his damp forehead with the back of his hand, and with an exasperated sigh said, “Whoo. It’s mighty hot today this mornin’, if I be sayin’ so me self.” He then got up and stretched alongside Thorn, letting out yet another yawn, this one longer than the former. “I think I’ll be goin’ out for a lil’ swim this mornin’. It ought ta’ do th’ body good.”

“Finally!” Sighed Thorn as she wiped away the sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm.

“An’ wot’s that supposed ta’ mean?” Asked Brimstone, arms crossed.

“No offense Brim, but…You reek!”

“Hehehe, eh’, ye’ go on and have ye’ lil’ fun.” Said Brim stomping off towards the pond. “But ye’ll miss me when I’m gone, lass. Jes’ ye’ wait an’ see.”

“Oh please, you’re a dwarf you ole’ fart. You got fifty or so years before you croak.” Grinned Thorn, bending over to pick up the damp rag from yesterday. “Hey, Brim.”

Brimstone turned around as he parted the nearby underbrush. “Wot’ now?” Suddenly, the damp rag smacked Brim’s face.

“I think the rag needs more water, it’s starting to dry.” Said Thorn, massaging her neck.

“An’ wot’ are ye’ goin’ ta’ do while I’m gone?” Asked Brim removing the rag away from his face.

Thorn dropped to her knees and pulled her satchel towards her and opened it up.
“I’m…Going to make a few preparations.” She then proceeded to remove phial after phial from the many pockets within her satchel and then she started to spread them across the damp ground in front of her.

Brimstone sighed and then continued to make his way through the cluster of bushes in front of him. “I dun’ think I’ll ever understand ye’ magicky-type folks at all…”

***

It was late in the morning when Brimstone finally arrived back at camp. “Ah, I feel like a new dwarf. Ey’, Thorn, there maybe somethin’ ta’ this bathin’ thing after all!” Brimstone chuckled. But Thorn didn’t answer. “Thorn…?” Said Brimstone in an inquisitive manner. Thorn was still on her knees with a large, open satchel huddled next to her. In her lap was an open Ambrosius, and Thorn was carefully observing the numerous crystal phials before her.

She was picking them up and holding them to the sun’s light, stirring whatever arcane concoction was within the phial. She was popping corks left and right, mixing the many strange liquids together, and then setting aside the phials containing the mixture. She would, on occasion, consult Ambrosius, flipping through many a worn page, mumbling to herself as she sought out whatever answer to whatever question was drilling itself into her brain. It all seemed so queer to Brimstone. But then again, he never did understand the complexities of magic, or, as he called it, “hocus pocus.” “Ey’, Thorn?” Said Brimstone approaching Thorn with a nice, wet rag in his hand.

Thorn’s ears twitched. “Oh, Brim! Hey, didn’t know you were here.” Grinned Thorn, giving Brimstone a side-glance. “Here.” Without giving Brimstone so much as a second look, she picked out a lone crystal phial and held it up.

Brimstone wandered over and grabbed the phial, pinching it between his thumb and index finger. “An’ wot’s this?” Inquired Brimstone, observing the phial up-close.

“Drink it, it’s a cooling spell.” Answered Thorn, closing Ambrosius. “Thanks Ambrosius.”

“A cooling spell, aye?” Brimstone popped the cork off of the phial.

“It lowers your body temperature. I already made one for myself.”

And with that, Brimstone raised the phial and poured every last drop into his open mouth.
“Ahh..That hit th’ spot.” Said Brimstone, licking his lips.

“It’ll take a minute to take effect, and it’s only temporary.” Said Thorn receiving the phial back from Brimstone. “You have the rag?”

Brimstone held out the rag. “Jes’ like th’ hocus pocus ye’ pulled last night ta’ get rid of them pests, right?”

Thorn nodded as she took the rag. “That’s correct. Speaking of which, the ward should be weakening by now. It won’t be long before those insects come back for more.”

“Sooo…If ye’ be havin’ th’ spell for this sort of thing, why do ye’ need that blasted rag?”

“It’s for him.” Answered Thorn, gesturing toward their captive as she continued to place every last phial back into their respective pockets within the satchel. “I believe he’s finally ready to talk.”

“But ye’ silenced him, didn’t ye’?”

Thorn closed her satchel, moved it aside, and stood up. She then brushed off her trousers and clicked open a leather pouch around her waist to grab a crystal phial. “True, but he’ll talk thanks to this spell I conjured.”

“Not all spells are temporary, lass?”

“No, not all. Some spells are, but some are permanent, like that Mute Spell, while others, like that cooling spell, are temporary. There are a wide variety of spells, and magicians are still discovering and creating new ones even as we speak. Permanent spells like the Mute Spell, will remain until I use what we magicians call a “De-Spell.”

“A “De-Spell”?”

“It’s basically a spell that’s designed to specifically counter another spell. As such, some may call them “Counter Spells”. For example, this spell I made is a Voice Spell, a De-Spell used to counter the effect of a Mute Spell.”

“Sooo…If I’m correct, I’m assumin’ a De-Spell for that spell ye’ used ta’ get rid of th’ bugs is one that attracts bugs…Right?”

“Now you’re getting it you ole’ fart! It’s called “Attract Insect Spell”.” Smiled Thorn. “Keep this up, and MAYBE you’ll become a mediocre magician Brim.”

Brimstone laughed. “Neh, it seems too complicated for me lass. It seems FAR too much trouble than wot it’s worth, when a well sharpened axe gets th’ job done jes’ as easily, if not quicker.”

“True, there are some obvious downsides to using spells, but there are simply some things that not even the sharpest of swords can accomplish. And besides, what idiot magician would venture out into the world without a weapon? That’s why I carry my trusty cutlass and flintlocke pistol. Spells are meant to be prepared BEFOREHAND, not during. Even a third-rate novice knows that! A good magician, or at least a competent one, is one who’s crazy-prepared.”

Both Thorn and Brimstone soon approached the willow where their captive remained, his head tilted to one side and entirely limp. His wrists were red with rope-burn and dried blood from his near endless struggle with his binds. His short, black hair clung to his damp face from the sweat, which still continued to pour down his neck, dampening his clothes. He was beginning to smell and the gnats continued to buzz all around his face, lapping up every last bead of sweat.

“Pitiful, ain’t he?” Said Brimstone, nudging the thief with his foot. “Get the canteen, he’s heating up pretty bad.” Said Thorn, placing her hand gently on the bandit’s forehead. He was quite hot to the touch, much to Thorn’s surprise.

“Don’t ye’ have another phial of that cooling hocus pocus?” Asked Brimstone, running a single hand across his long red beard.

“I’m out of reagents for it. That’s why I didn’t use any during our trek through the swamp until now. I only had enough reagents for two, and I didn’t want to squander it. Plus, that’s why we had a wet rag.” Answered Thorn. “Just get the canteen.” And with that, Brimstone fetched the leather canteen, unscrewed the lid, and handed it over to Thorn.

“Thanks.”

“But, lass, wot if he doesn’t talk?” Asked Brimstone, eyeing their still sleeping captive.

“Oh, he’ll talk alright.” Said Thorn placing the wet rag on the bandit’s sweaty forehead. “If he doesn’t, I’ll let you handle it.”

“Aye, that’s wot ye’ said the last time when we questioned him.”

“Brim…You lit a grenado in front of him.”

“Aye…Yer’ point?”

“I don’t think he would’ve been much use if you had blown his brains out mid-sentence.”

“Ey’, lookie there Thorn. He’s wakin’ up.”

Thorn turned her attention to the thief, who’s eyes were slowly opening. He moved his head a little, and then squirmed in place, shifting his focus between the Dark Elf and the dwarf.
“Ey’! Sleepin’ beauty, how are ye’?” Said Brimstone with a grin. The thief, obviously incapable of responding vocally, simply shot him a poisonous glare. Brimstone simply returned the harsh gesture with a hearty chuckle. “Wot’s th’ matter? Manticore got ye’ tongue? That’ll teach ye’ some manners.” Thorn quickly looked at Brimstone and placed a finger on her lip.

“Shhh, that’s enough Brim.”

Spat!

The purloiner spat a nasty glob of spittle right at Thorn’s cheek, some of it even touching the edge of her lip. A look of disgust flashed over Thorn’s face as she quickly wiped away the mess with her hand. “Nice to meet you too.” Said Thorn as she wiped away the viscous mess on her trousers. Brimstone knelt down beside the thief and drew his dagger, positioning the blade right above his Adam's apple.

“Now look, lad. Ye’ best be behavin’ yerself, especially if ye’ be lookin’ ta’ talk again.” Brimstone grinned a sly, mischievous grin as he continued to hold the dagger up to his neck. The bandit simply stared straight into Brimstone’s eyes, his own eyes filled with utmost contempt for the dwarf. Then, Thorn grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks as hard as she could, and forced his gaze on her.

“Look, I don’t want to be here, Brim doesn’t want to be here, and YOU don’t want to be here especially. So, why not cooperate and tell us where your friends are setting camp? We’ll not only let you go, but I’ll give you-“ Thorn stopped to balance the canteen on her hip, and to grab the phial tucked away in one of her many leather pouches. “…Your voice back.” She lightly shook the bottle in front of him. “So, will you cooperate?”

Silence

“Well, lad? Will ye’ or will ye’ not?” Asked Brim.

Still nothing.

“Or do I need ta’ get another grenado?”

“Brim…” Said Thorn, eyeing Brimstone.

“Wot?”

Suddenly, the cutpurse nodded. “Yes”.

“Told you.” Taunted Thorn as she let go of their captive’s face.

“He only said yes cause’ I threatened to use a grenado.”

Thorn sighed as she popped the cork off of the phial. “Right…Whatever you say Brim.” She then held the phial right up to the thief’s dry lips. “Drink up.”

And so, the bandit did as he was told, and swallowed every last drop of the De-Spell.

“Okay…You stupid whore. I’ll talk.” Huffed the thief between a series of harsh breaths. “But, first…Water.”