Assorted Fiction by R.A. Faust

12/05/2016

Xavien 1

The rapier pierced the wizard’s veiny neck with a wet hiss. Staring down the length of the gleaming blade the dying man saw the instrument of his destruction wielded by a grinning killer dressed in the ritual garb of the Warstar Knights. The duelist’s thin, tapered face matched the sharpness of his sword and peered out menacingly from his ornate barbut styled helm adorned with a single white ostrich feather.

As the lifeblood drained down his neck and pooled in the fine silks of his own ritual raiment, the wizard jerked a bead off of the leather thong about his opposite wrist, which immediately detonated in a flash of green witch fire, immolating the mage and ending his slow descent to the grave. The blast threw the swordsman back a dozen feet into the stone archway of the laboratory, setting his hair and other clothing on fire.

Xavien D’Arkane patted out the flames and nimbly sprang to his feet. Flicking his rapier free of the wizard’s blood as he picked his way through the mounds of gore, he kept his wits about him in case there were any other surprises lurking about.

Rifling through the elaborate and disheveled bookcase on the back wall he pulled a crimson colored grimoire from under a jar of something questionable, blew the dust away and smiled, stuffing it into his satchel. As swiftly as he entered, he left the room, turning back to gesture while muttering arcane syllables indecipherable to the uninitiated. At the end of the spell blue white motes of radiant star-fire sprayed from his hand igniting the room behind him in a brilliant conflagration.

Once outside Xavien sheathed his Starshard rapier, mounted his charger, and rode off into the night. He was pissed the prick burnt his feather.

Xavien 2

Drawing his blade into Prime, Xavien parried the brunt of the morningstar’s strike but not as much as he’d hoped. The weapon’s protruding spikes caught his helmet enough to twist his head about and throw his balance off. This distraction allowed the hobgoblin’s knee to connect with his midriff, knocking his wind out and sprawling him across the floor.

With a swiftness of follow through common to blooded warriors, the hulking soldier stomped across the span between them and made another overhanded strike down upon Xavien’s prone form. At the last possible instant, Xavien vanished amidst a swirl of cerulean light and suddenly appeared a short distance above and behind the hobgoblin as the morningstar cracked against the flagstones where his body had just been. Gravity took over and the full weight of Xavien’s slight frame bore down upon the ensorcelled tip of his wickedly sharp Starshard and pierced through the top of the soldier’s spine, down through its toughened hide and scale armor, and into its vitals. With a wet slap the hobgoblin sprawled to the ground and Xavien rode it down like the cunning beast it was.

No sooner had he landed on the slumped corpse beneath him, Xavien rolled to the side and blocked two crossbow bolts that had been fired by hobgoblin soldiers. One of the stout arrows embedded in his Starshield while the other skipped off the surface harmlessly. With a flick of his wrist, he sent his bonded blade back to the extra-dimensional space from which he summoned it, and formed his fingers into the arcane gesture that allowed him to hurl his star-fire.

With a brilliant burst of blue-white radiance dozens of motes of star-fire consumed the closest crossbowman in a violent conflagration while the second looked on in abject horror. Thinking it best to retreat from such eldritch wizardry, it turned to flee and was blasted apart by star-fire from a different caster.

“I fucking hate it when you do that!” exclaimed Xavien as the willowy mage Tanyl Larenethai revealed his position behind the opposite doorway. Star-fire motes dissipated in his hand as he grinned slyly knowing full well that his interference would cause a stir with his friend. “I’m just trying to help….” Tanyl proffered.

“I had them both and you go and pull that shit again…” he spat while inspecting the seared mounds of smoking hobgoblins. “You know what I call that?” he furthered.

“Superior legerdemain?” Tanyl quipped, “That’s what the Starseers would call that magnificent magery I just laid down.”

“Always with the pithy retorts…” Xavien replied while absently stabbing the hobgoblins as he passed, just to be sure. “Being a dick is what I call that…”

“Duly noted good Sir,” Tanyl quipped facetiously. He loved jerking Xavien’s chain because it was so damned easy. This had been their dynamic from the start when they first met before the Starseer Council back in Starspeak. They had formed an immediate friendship built upon a healthy foundation of verbal jabs and parries. Xavien assumed the role of big brother to Tanyl’s role of precocious sibling rival. When they were assigned their Darkstar companion, Aenendras Viltos, to complete their triptych the circle was complete. Viltos filled the hyper-competitive cousin role and the three excelled together because of this dynamic admixture of personalities.

Tanyl was shaken from his thoughts by a sudden movement behind him. The hobgoblin brought its morningstar down to crush the half-elf’s skull, only to have his blow deflected by a cerulean colored magical force field that sprung up to meet it. Tanyl never went into a battle without abjuring himself appropriate protective spells. The mage winked at the monster just before immolating it in magical star-fire. Tanyl found using more potent magicks on such lowlife monstrosities a filthy notion. They didn’t deserve more than a cantrip’s worth of effort.

And then Xavien was in front of Tanyl with his Starshield on his right arm covering their front and his Starshard rapier drawn up point first toward the enemies gathering at the threshold. The hobgoblins had murder in their eyes and bloodlust in their hearts. They had accidently discovered the pair exploring their stronghold and had sounded the alarm. The longer Xavien and Tanyl dallied, the greater their risk of death or capture at the hands of these born killers.

“Let’s dance.” said Xavien, and the two sprang into action. Xavien was a blur of steely death, while eldritch energies crackled from Tanyl’s war staff. Death and destruction followed.