Strange Tale of Aeran: Black Fire Mage

Smoke billowed over the craggy terrain of the Dilston Wastes, rising in high plumes blocking out the sun. Bursts of light flared in the smog, and the ground shook in violent tremors. The screams of men crackled through the air. A group of men broke free of the smoke, standing in a relatively unchoked clearing, facing back to back to watch all their angles. The five members of the Verdish Inquisition, professional mage killers, stood with snarling panic.

“Who is this guy?” one spat. “You said he was a push over and this would be easy. This is anything but easy!”

In the smoke a flash of purple light, a bink and you miss it speed cut blindingly through the smoggy air, in concert with a voice speaking magic words. “Flatus.”
With the words echoing through the air the smoke rolled over the inquisition like a tide, sending them into a coughing fit. “You thought this would be easy?” the man in the smoke asked. “vi opprimendi”

One of the men screamed as his leg buckled from under him, falling to the ground in howling agony. “What did he do…what did he do?” He asked in a panic, looking towards their leader. “You said he was a nobody, a nothing hedge-mage.”

Their leader snapped back. “He is!” the leader looked to another inquisitor. “You! Get him on his feet. We need to make a tactical retreat. Get out of this smoke.”

“But play time isn’t over.” the mage said. “Fulman” when the word left the mages lips from his left hand zipped a small bolt of lightning no thicker than a strand of yarn that collided with an inquisitor’s back. It was far from killing him, but it caused every muscle to tense and for him to fall to the ground in a spasming heap.

“He’s messing with us…” the man with the broken leg said, panic in his tone. “He’s like a cat with a mouse.

“It took you this long to figure that out?” the mage asked. “And your lot were meant to be great detectives. Pfft.”

The leader began to step in a small circle trying to look through the smoke. “Show yourself you coward!” he snapped.

“Oh is that all you want?” the mage asked. “Gladly.”

Out of the smoke stepped a man with a high collared robe, it was likely once a wizard's finery now splattered and soiled with soot and blood. “Well Inquisitor Grimsby, here I am.” the wizard held a small mote of flame in his right hand, it flickered with a black flame. “What will you do now I wonder?”

“Devil!” Inquisitor Grimsby shouted, charging the mage sword drawn.

“Tisk tisk.” the wizard said disappointed “Flatus.” the smoke over took the mage again, and Grimsby struck open air. “I don’t know why but I thought you’d be smarter than that.”

“Filthy worm!” Grimsby shouted.

“Here I thought you’d live up to your Grandfather’s name. No matter, History will forget you both.” the mage said.

“Do not speak ill of my grandfather.” Grimsby said, swinging at the air.

“I meant no ill, it was simply an observation, his reputation is unshakable whereas yours is far more lacklustre.”

“My Grandfather was a hero!” Grimsby spat.
“Your grandfather drowned innocent women.”

“She was a witch.” Grimsby shouted, having now lost sight of his men through the smoke.

“Is that the story he told you? That a woman whose only crime was wanting to be alone and not be wed was a witch deserving of death?” the mage taunted. From behind Grimsby he heard another incantation “magnam finis” the ground rumbled and his men let out high, animalistic screams. “Grimsby I want you to remember those screams. To never forget that you caused this, this was your doing.” from out of the smoke, suddenly near nose to nose with Grimsby was the blood and soot covered mage, the break in his large round glasses causing one of his eyes to splinter into a retreating pattern. “Caecus.” with the words spoken Grimsby’s vision started to blur. The edges of his eye’s closing in. “Because you will have to live with this, their screams and deaths being the last thing you see.”

Grimsby blinded swung at the mage, missing cutting only air. Falling to his knees sobbing.