Vicious Magick (20 page)

Amongst themselves, wizards refer to each
other as ‘circles’ (from their ranks, i.e. Seventh Circle, etc.)
and to non-wizards as ‘squares’ (i.e. not a circle). Now, contrary
to what a wizard would have you believe, there’s no progenic
predisposition towards magickal abilities any more than people are
born lawyers or philosophers. Some people are born with attributes
that make them better wizards, but with the proper training, nearly
anybody can (theoretically) become a wizard.

That being said, most wizards come from
wizarding families, and most wizarding families are wealthy nobles
living in or near Arcania. Since a large proportion of young
wizards don’t make it home from the Academy, wizarding families
tend to be large.

It might seem sexist to mention this, but it
needs to be said: there are no female wizards.

Wizards are always, without exception, male.
This is the direct result of the ancient war between the
Paterlinguists and the citizens of Arcania, where the
Paterlinguists fought murderously on behalf of the precision of
language, and the Arcanians fought savagely for their right to live
peacefully without being hassled all the time about said precision
of language. After thousands of deaths and hundreds of thousands of
dodeckas of property damage, the end result is this:

Female magick-users are called witches.

It takes the help of three librarian sailors
to track it down, but eventually they find a book with information
about the Nexus Sketch. Not a lot of information (the book is a
catalog of religious relics, mostly dealing with which churches
have which fingers of which saints) but the relevant passage reads
as follows:

During the Battle of Abbot’s Cove, when the
Trinese forces overwhelmed the Cruciffers defending the Deus
Palatium, an Ex-plosion knocked loose a Wall exposing a giant
Antechamber containing a certain Painting. One of the Trinese
Soldiers, overwhelmed with Emotion at the Sight of the Painting,
used a Piece of charred Wood to make a Rough Drawring of the
Picture to show his Family.

All of the soldiers present, upon seeing the
Painting, swore allegiance to Pontiflex Chastis ZI on the Spot and
drove away the Remainder of the Trinese forces. Pontiflex Chastis,
upon seeing the Power of the Painting on the Minds of the Soldiers,
ordered it Destroyed in the Name of the common Good.

The Trinese Soldier who made the original
Drawring became a Priester and founded his own Church in a City by
the Sea. What the Drawring and the Painting actually depict is a
Subject of much Debate and Speculation by Phillosophers.

Novanostrum rereads the passage. “Destroyed
in the name of the common good? Something with that kind of power?
Just doesn’t seem very Crucifer-like to me.”

“You think it’s still there somewhere in the
Deus Palatium?” Zanther asks.

“I’d bet your life on it.”

A messenger runs into the chamber where the
Pontiflex Minor is sitting on his marble throne.

“News from Santoris, your Graciousness.”

“Speak, messenger.”

“A daemon was sighted in a brothel, but all
that remains of him is ash. The Athiests were located, but seem to
have escaped on a library ship bound for Arcania, your
Graciousness.”

“Send word to our man in Arcania that this
library ship must be intercepted upon its arrival.”

The messenger gives a deep bow and runs back
down the corridor. Inside the room with the Pontiflex Minor, a
dozen old men in funny hats have their heads bent as they try to be
as pious as possible but succeed only in being very quiet. The
Pontiflex Minor paces the room, speaking to himself.

“Have they found it yet? It does not matter.
We can’t risk a revolution, least of all a revolution by our own
troops; they must be
dealt
with. They must be
dodecimated.”

“You!” he shouts, pointing at one of the old
men, “There is a silver urn in my bedchambers. Fetch it.”

“And you!” he shouts again, pointing at
another old man, “There is a statue in the hall outside the Grand
Treasury holding a serpent-shaped staff. Bring it here.”

He waits a few moments, and they both return,
bearing the requested artifacts. He unscrews the top of the urn and
shakes handfuls of red powder onto the floor in the shape of a
large circle. Within the large circle he drops more powder into the
shape of a septagram. The Pontiflex Minor then takes the staff and
pounds the point of it into the edge of the circle, causing the
entire thing to burst into flame. He waves the staff in a
complicated series of movements and a portal opens above the star.
Out of the portal, a horde of angry-looking demons emerge.
Immediately, they swarm the old men and start tearing them
apart.

A few of them try variously to run and scream
and soil themselves, but as none of these are effective methods for
combating angry daemons, they are also ripped to pieces.

After a gross of daemons have trooped out of
the portal, the Pontiflex Minor waves his staff and the dimensions
are once again separated. He pounds his staff on the ground, the
flames go out, and two hundred eighty-eight eyes are focused on the
Pontiflex Minor.

“I have summoned you, Hell’s High Guard, the
most elite fighting force between here and eternity, to find THREE
individuals. A wizard, a knifesman, and a queen. They will be
shortly be making their arrival in Arcania by ship, and whomsoever
of you manages to kill one or more of them will be given your
freedom. After seventy-one hours, the incantation I have used to
summon you here shall wear off, and you will be sent screaming back
to Hell.”

It takes them a few moments to process this,
they do, and then there is a scramble through the doorway. The
shrieks and screams of Priesters and janitors can be heard as the
daemons slaughter their way out of the Deus Palatium.