Ambadark's Story

The dingy tavern was nothing but dark and wet, droplets making annoying taps on the ground as they from the ceiling and into buckets, a slight gloom fogging throughout and touching the few sulking who sat in the last of the decrepit chairs that were still standing with the worn strain of overwork, and among these melancholy few was Mundy, slumping low in his seat with his head down in a drowsy manner, sighing noticeably heavy to aware people of his normal and typical surroundings. Bored to beyond any measurement, he found himself having the deep urge to start a fight with one of the common drunks to at least be doing something, anything, for he would not just sit around and wait ages for adventure just to walk in the door. Mundy had half a mind just to walk out of the door, staring at it longingly, with the zeal to walk all the way to Ethany, the grand city, instead of being bogged by the second fiddle city with much less beauty and copious amount of less things to do, but, as usual, Mundy just remained lounged with his feet staying ever still, in fact with the thought of not going, he slumped even farther down into his chair, his feet outstretching and his chin to his chest. So, deciding to just pass the time, Mundy slowly creaked his joints, rigid from his long rest, in the process of standing to fight one of the many thugs or gang member that would sit, attempting at ominous, in the dark corners while checking just as nervously for the guard as the lesser criminals, when suddenly a man walked the door, and not just a man but a man with a beast.

This man was a curious giant, tall as an elf but burly as one of the stout rangers or better, with the swagger of a person who could cleave the head off of all the thugs with on fair swing, and his beast, no doubt a wolf, even now had blood on his muzzle and the look of readiness to kill in his eye. What a queer life the life of that wolf must be, to wait most of your life for one word, a word to signify your battle where you could no doubt die, and once the quick and hellish slaughter and carnage have ended, you go back to waiting for that one word. How even stranger that words existence must be, but Mundy digressed to the situation at hand. Looking at the man again, he thought of the adventures this man has no doubt had, fighting drakons and slaughtering hydras for the same price as painting one of the corner shops, and he thought of the no doubt adventures he would have if he would just shadow the man. Mundy, thinking of adventures and wolves, slowly rose in his seat to sit with a slight lean forward of interest as he watched the man take powerful steps to make his way through the room. Mundy, now pensive, tried his best to come up with a conversation starter with the man, but when he drew blank, he slowly nudged his full mug to the edge until it came crashing down, brown liquid spilling every direction, with a loud clank with a bit of ale landing on the burly's leg.

Mundy shot up, standing straight, and approached the man with a kind but confident mood about him, and he did a short bow before realizing that was the elves he read about and adjusted himself.

"Terribly sorry about that," he said curiously still, all the while eyeing the beast, knowing that their battle would hang in the balance of a word.

"I am Ambadark, the best mage to ever live. And who might you be?"

Einar frowned as the man in front of him knocked over his own drink and some of its content splashing onto Einar's pants. He heard Hylar growl at the man, but it was disciplined enough to not tear the man's throat out. At least not until Einar gave him the command. Einar looked the man in the face, examining him. He looked young, at least younger than he was. His robes and staff gave him away as a mage, though Einar could not tell what type since he couldn't see auras anyway. He put down his fork and knife slowly. He took a swig from his own mug before answering the mage, Ambadark, as he called himself. He smiled in amusement at the man's arrogance. He'd put this man down a step.

"Well, Ambadark, first of all you don't look like the most powerful mage in existence. I can tell you the names of fifty other mages, both more experienced and more powerful than you. I've been friends with them, enemies with them, and in the cases I was paid to, killed them as well. So tell me, why would I even want to tell you my name?"

Mundy, seeing the man's smile, smiled back. Proof! He knew for sure now that this man was everything that he thought him to be, but his train of thought was interrupted by the another growl from the wolf. Mundy tried his hardest to hold back a jump, the wolf was rather terrifying, and he turned to the man, his smiling not fading, although the wolf did not help.

"Because, my kind... terrifying sir, none of them have this!"

Mundy looked politely at him and held out his hand as if handing something, and he whispered the words as if for no one to hear.

"Ignis de nocte nostras regni."

Suddenly, fire ignited from his hand, but this fire was no normal fire. It was completely black, it was more of a silhouette of fire, and it cast no shadows, strangely shadows seemed to go towards Grinning like a boy who just out played his father, he bounced the fire back and forth from hand to hand like a ball, and finally he snuffed it out.

"And if you are still not impressed..."

He quickly repeated the words, but this time he made a gesture towards the plate which exploded into black flame. He knew that there was no way for the man to put out the flame, so he grinned happily. He would have either impressed the man or angered him, so he thought of a way to quickly win the fight. His gazed shifted towards the wolf, who still looked just as mean, and he decided.

He would be impressed or he would roast the dog.

Einar looked at the black fire burning on his plate, looking at it. He hadn't had too many encounters with dark magic, but he knew that he hadn't come across anything like this before. He didn't like it when the mage cast his gaze at Hylar. This is when he was pretty sure that his own speed, no matter how fast wouldn't be able to stop this mage casting his black fire at Hylar. So Einar, with little choice, muttered his own words of power, quietly so only Hylar and himself could hear it.

"Terra pugnus."

His aura poured itself into the air behind Ambadark, quickly forming into a small chunk of rock. If it didn't knock him out when it hit, then the distraction would give Einar ample time to draw his blade and finish the dark mage. He looked at the mage again, and spoke. His smile was no longer there, rather a more aggressive scowl.

"Interesting magic, but this seems like you're trying to intimidate me, and I don't like being intimidated. I suggest you go on your way now."