The Fortune's Bosom Inn

As he was speaking, the masked one moved again, weaving his hands fluidly through the air. Ol'kans felt a tingling; a strange feeling, as though something was trying to get into his mind. Not into his physical brain, but into his very thoughts. This was different to mental attacks the red wizard had suffered before. It was like a hand was grasping at his thoughts, enveloping them. This hand was gloved in the finest silk, whereas other mental attacks felt like iron fists; careless, untrained. The masked one was strong...

But so was Ol'kans. He pushed back, fighting the silken fingers. You have interfered, and now you will suffer. He changed stance, focusing all his mental processes on the metal-faced being. The heat from his staff burned hotter, and he forced his own mind against that of the invader.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nax watched as Nalkasi the Faceless made strange, dance-like movements with his gloved hands. The red wizard faltered, and his intense gaze lessened, shifting focus. The gem at the top of the wizard's staff glowed brighter, as the two men engaged in some sort of mental combat.

It was impossible to tell if the masked figure was straining, but as the battle of minds began the enchantment holding the others in place collapsed. They also heard a different voice, this one entirely more human speak to them all. "Try not to kill him, I shall have him as my own."

For a moment, Alastia felt heavy; her limbs as the stone of a some great sculpture of old. But she knew the sensation and focused her mind and will, letting out a loud snarl as she pull herself from the grip of the spell. She gave her head a fierce shake.

'Bells!' She hissed in her head, unsure if Nalkasi could hear her or not. 'A sensible warrior would focus their magic on the hostile party.' It was not as if she or Nax had threatened the man with injury or death. She had not drawn her sword until she'd seen the dagger, after all. 'Do that again and you might get someone innocent killed.'

"Oi," she shouted at the red-robed figure, whose concentration appeared elsewhere for the moment. "Drop your sword and leave. That's your final warning." She meant it. She'd never been one for extended diplomacy. Or diplomacy at all, for that matter.

His muscles relaxed, and Nax stumbled slightly on his newly-functional feet. He looked around; Bren was gone, retreated to some hidden area of the bar. The red wizard seemed unperturbed by the mental conflict. Nalkasi was still casting, and Alastia was shouting at the red wizard, but Nax was listening to a new voice in his head. This one was more earthly; not identifiable with any particular race or gender, but clearly human. He looked back to Nalkasi, intently occupied by the red man, and realised it was the faceless one that was speaking, but in a different voice.

Ol'kans did not notice the Owlbear woman and Nax begin to move. His mind was flitting back and forth, defending and attacking, again and again. This metal creature knew its way around the mind. Ol'kans pushed back, sparing no thought for anything else but this battle of the brains, lest he lose himself and succumb to the metal man's power. What is such a creature doing in a place like this? Speak, metal-man, and show me your weakness!

Alastia scowled at the voice in her mind; asking her to spare the red man so that some other may have him. Every instinct within her demanded she ignore the request. She rarely trusted others to fulfil tasks she could do herself; especially when lives were involved. Nax paying for her room, a kind if odd gesture, was very different from some voice asking her to leave a murderous man for them.

'Fine,' she thought, 'you can have his life.' But she'd be damned if she simply allowed things to be, without taking action.  So with a growl she moved forward and kicked out with her foot, aiming to send the red-robed figure sprawling across the tavern floor.

"Show you my weakness?" A voice similar to the sound of a great bell, mixed with many horns "i have a much more novel idea, I'll show you your own." The voice projected into Ol'kans' mind was like that of a parent chastising a rebellious child, caring and full of forgiveness. Meanwhile Ol'kans could feel his mind moving against his will throwing up memories...

Bren crouched behind the bar, softly cussing to himself as he prepared to get up and lob a bottle at the attacker.

Ol'kans' mind reeled as memories hidden long ago came flashing back; a small, grubby boy crouching in the dirt, chained; a tower of darkest stone, in a desert of red sand; the silhouette of a humongous dragon, obscured by a blizzard; a tiny blue flower growing in a meadow; ten cloaked men in a circle, all wieldling rusted iron daggers...

He felt himself stumble backwards, but he steadied himself, attempting to block out the metal wizard's attacks. As he regained control he pushed the memories back, but the wizard then felt a blow to his waist, as some hard object collided with his body. He slipped and fell, and suddenly his mind was overwhelmed with pain. A million swords pierced his head as lights danced before his eyes. Not like this... IT CANNOT BE! Ol'kans fought with all he had, until it felt as though his mind was about to explode.

"Cease!" Nalkasi projected into the minds of all around, voice like the sound of a gong. Walking over to the fallen man Nalkasi extended a gloved hand which was eagerly accepted, Nalkasi lifted the man off the ground. "Thank you." Ol'kans replied, voice distant as if he was half asleep.

The red wizard took Nalkasi's hand, and thanked him... "What... what just happened?" stuttered Nax. "One minute, you were... in some sort of mind duel, and then... you, you kicked him, and then... what!?" Nax stood there, mouth half-open, looking between Nalkasi and Alastia with great confusion.

The red wizard was standing there, hood still up, wobbling slightly on his feet.

"I said I would have him, and now I do. He is mine to control, and such is no longer for but friend." Nalkasi chortled, like several metal flutes. "Come now let us all sit and talk, I shall pay for what ever our new friend orders"

"Well I can't say I have a deep understanding of magic," Alastia said, glancing at the red-robed man as Nalkasi helped him from the floor. "But it would be appear he's enthralled, or something like it." Her nose crinkled in distaste, but she made no further comment on it. "All I did was kick him; might've broken his concentration."

She shrugged her shoulders before sheathing her sword and walking over to the bar. She raised her ale mug to her lips and downed the remains with a single swallow. Then she sat with a sigh.

"I was hoping to get horrendously drunk and full on stew and sleep until noon you know," she muttered. "Should've known better. Should've known better."

Nax watched, head cocked, as the red wizard shuffled forward, until he reached the bar and slumped onto a stool. He sat there, still, staring at the air in front of him. Bren cautiously rose from behind the bar, ghost-white and clutching a glass bottle, hands shaking.

Alastia also made her way to the bar, and sat without hesitation. Nax realised he was still holding his sword. "He's safe?" he asked aloud, voice slightly shaky from the intensity of the past few minutes.

"If he's not safe I'll draw my sword and shove it through him," Alastia stated without hesitation, taking up a slice of bread and dunking it in her stew. "Guts on the floor like every other sod whose bothered me." She shot Nalkasi and his thrall a dour look.

"No creepy 'claiming' or anything; no second chances. Just dead." She managed a smirk. "And possibly looted. Waste not, want not."

Nax considered for a moment, and then sheathed his sword, returning to his seat and his abandoned meal. He didn't continue eating, instead he stared at the red-robed man. Bren moved forward, and said, tentatively, "Would you, um, like something, good sir?".

The wizard seemed to gain awareness. He looked around the room, at the bowls of stew, at the patrons, before noticing Bren, and said "Whatever they're having, my friend". His voice was more normal now - still recognisably the wizard's voice, but somehow weaker, diluted.

As Bren readied another bowl, Nax asked: "Who are you?".

The red man turned to face Nax, and after a brief moment of just sitting there, he lowered his hood. The wizard was human, and his face was horrifically scarred, with what appeared to be tens of individual knife cuts disfiguring his his entire bald head. The shiny pink scar tissue gave his head a very peculiar look.

"I am Ol'kans, the Red, thrall of Nalkasi the Faceless. I am here to do his bidding." His eyes, which were a strange violet colour, were partially cloudy, like that of a blind man, but he could clearly see well.

"What were you here for, before meeting Nalkasi?" probed Nax, anxious for answers.

Ol'kans stared for several more seconds, his eyes empty. Finally, he said: "I was here to provide a message, to you. After that, I was to kill you, and leave. There was to be only one death. Those were my orders."

"Mightn't want to have what I'm having," Alastia snorted. "The stew's fine; but the ale's strong, and not everyone's as hardy as I." Some might say she sounded overconfident. Alastia didn't care. If they wanted to drink themselves into an early grave thinking they could handle the same as she, it wasn't her fault, or problem for that matter.

She looked over at the red-robed man, taking in his appearance. He was viciously scarred and hairless; she herself had many wounds, but none so severe on her face. She raised her brows at the sight, and listened to his words. It was, all things considered, a bizarre ocassion.

"So, Ol'kans," she said, swirling a slice of bread in her stew, "what was this message? You drew your blade before delivering it; started a confrontation you ultimately couldn't deal with." She took a bite and frowned, before turning to Nax. "Who gave you your prophecy anyway? Whoever they are, they're probably linked to him," she waved her bread at Ol'kans, "and they clearly don't have your best interests in mind."

Ol'kans blinked once. "The message was for Nax alone, and for no other. I was told it would be an easy task, and there would be no-one to interfere."

Ol'kans turned his eyes to Nax, as did Bren and the others, expectant.

"Um... some time ago... a decade or so, a man in a red robe approached me. I was in my home city, and... he told me that on this very night, I would receive a message from a stranger, in this very city." Nax mumbled, somewhat ashamed of trusting in a stranger, and for putting so much faith in the prediction.

After a long pause, Nax looked up, realising the others were still waiting for the important question. He looked Ol'kans in his blurry eyes, and asked: "What message were you meant to give me, before killing me?"

"You will likely be disappointed by the message" the red man drawled.

"I don't care" Nax replied, his entire being preparing itself for this moment.

Ol'kans kept staring, for an agonising few seconds, until he spoke, so quiet that they could hardly hear the wizard, and that the common room itself seemed to go still in an attempt to listen.

Alastia snorted. "A man in a red robe, huh," she scoffed, looking at Ol'kans and his rich, crimson cloth. "Well no doubt whoever they are, they obviously knew this sod. Still can't believe you willingly believed someone's prophecy." She gave her head a good shake, partially due to the copious amount of alcohol she had consumed, and partially due to disbelief.

Perhaps she was too harsh; but Alastia didn't like the idea of prophecies. To some, it brought comfort, but the idea of her life being placed upon any path made her uneasy. The thought that she would have to follow even more so. 'No one decides my path but me.'

She let the subject drop, however, when Nax spoke once again. She was curious to hear what this messenger was. What words could he deliver that would force him to slaughter the one those words were meant for? As he spoke, she leant forward further; frustrated when she couldn't hear.

"My ears are sharper than any fox's and yet I can't hear a word you're saying," she grunted. "Speak up!"

Ol'kans turned to look at Alastia. She just sat there stubbornly. He spoke again:

"If the one called Nax is not killed, the Red Wizards will fall. Their leader will be enslaved, and you will roam free. A massive war will result, as the Red Wizards seek vengeance against the one called Nax... I am here to stop this war. Now, you must die."

The room was silent. Nax was sweating; he looked from Ol'kans, to Nalkasi, to Alastia, to Bren, back to Nalkasi and then to Ol'kans again, digesting the weight of what the red wizard had said. If he failed to kill me, then...

Ol'kans was simply sitting there, staring.

Alastia was silent for a moment. She glanced between Nax and Ol'kans with a raised brow. Then she let out a loud snort and took a swig from her drink, which Bren had refilled whilst Ol'kans spoke.

"Wait, so, are we talking about- you're a Red Wizard of Thay?" She asked. "Or are there are bunch of other sods calling themselves the Red Wizards now?" She looked over Ol'kans; his bald head and robes, his bizarre attitude. She wouldn't put it past a Red Wizard of Thay to act in such a way.

"And wait," she said, waving a hand in Nax's direction, "you think Nax is going to stop your leader? Whether you're the folks of Thay or not, I thought whoever led you would be able to stand against, well, him." Then she laughed. "But well, if not, then maybe I could take a swing at the head of the Red Wizards. Perhaps the heads of all of them. No vengeance to be sought if you're all dead."

It was insensitive, but Alastia didn't care. She was tired and tipsy and fed up with the day. And she still smelt like Owlbears. She needed a bath. The last time she had one had been at least three weeks ago, and more likely, a month.

"Well, this problem can be solved easily," she said finally. "Nax, don't kill anyone related to the Red Wizards. If he, or she, or they for that matter, look anything like a Red Wizard, don't go near 'em. Make a good half-turn and run. There you go, prophecy denied. Everyone take a drink."

She was aware, of course, that it could be more complicated. Perhaps the Head of the Red Wizards had a penchant for running around Nax-inhabited areas in disguises and attacking people who looked and sounded like the man next to her.

'But that's just stupid,' she thought. 'This entire thing is stupid. I need another drink.'

Ol'kans watched the Owlbear woman. She did not understand. Or perhaps she did, but was denying it to herself, he thought.

Nax swallowed the lump in his throat as he listened to Alastia talk. He was too concerned with what the wizard had said to be even remotely offended by the woman's disregard for his abilities.

"What's happened here tonight?" he started saying, slowly. "This wizard here, dressed in red, has come in here, looking to kill me."

He closed his eyes, processing the information. He didn't want it to be true, but he could see it clearly now. He took a deep breath, and continued.

"And just now, he's been enslaved... Don't you see...?"

Nalkasi chimed, almost like haughty laughter "Prophecies that fulfil themselves, amusing stories to tell are they not? For if Nax died then there was no one there to save him, but if he didn't then Ol'kan is enslaved. And what are they in Thay to think, the leader yet unreturned, all they have to hope in vein that the man called Nax has him enslaved, so out they seek and their revenge they'll reek, on the one who is guilty only by fate.." The figure seemed please with the sentence and took out a ink pen and book and wrote the phrase down.