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Magic and Mayhem - Printable Version

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Magic and Mayhem - Sloan - 08-16-2019

Sloan’s boots crunched against the sands of Nippur, the only sound audible in the suddenly empty streets. The mage ran a gauntleted hand over his chin as he considered the messages that had recently blasted over the radio.

“What do you make of it?” The warlock asked, glancing at the phantasm floating beside him.

“Sounds like a bunch of mortal shite.” Mercifax grunted. “Screaming at each other over loudspeakers, you know how it goes.”

Sloan remained quiet for a few moments. “What's a loudspeaker?”

Before the demon could respond, he suddenly stopped in mid air. The apparition swivelled around, his goat-like pupil distorting into a reptilian slit as he gazed into the distance. Sloan’s own sight twisted and focused as the pact took effect, focusing on a red silhouette pulsing a couple of blocks away.

“Are you seeing this shit?” Mercifax growled. 

“Magic.” Sloan said greedily, practically salivating at the scent of the arcane.

“Run, quick, before it gets away.” The demon ordered. The warlock gladly obeyed, sprinting towards the source as quickly as his legs would carry him. Sloan soon passed by a burning building, glancing around for the rogue mage.

“Above us, she's flying away!” Mercifax roared. The sorcerer looked up, his demon-blessed vision coming to rest on the puppet-flanked woman above him. Sloan raised his hand, presenting his palm to his fleeing foe. Chaotic energies stirred in his body as he focused his magic before a crimson bolt exploded towards the woman, gently singeing Sloan’s gauntlet in its exodus.

The chaotic bolt lanced towards the woman, blasting through her leg and splattering the ground beneath with boiling blood. A pained cry echoed across the city as the bolt struck home, causing the woman to whip around, searching for the source of the attack.

“Haha, direct hit.” Mercifax crowed. “Again! Again!”

The warlock grinned as he extended his other hand, releasing another burst of chaotic energy towards the puppeteer. To his dismay, however, she nimbly dodged out of its path.

“Who are you?” She demanded, a look of confusion and anger dancing across her face.

“The demon lord of thieves, crown prince of chaos, hierophant of hell, devourer of sorcerer souls, Mercifax!” The demon announced proudly before turning towards his pact-mate. “Don't forget the hierophant one I swear to Satan.”

“I w- wait, what was that last one?” Sloan asked, double-taking before remembering the puppeteer above him. “Uh, I'm Sloan. I'm here to kill you and steal your magic. Pleased to meet you.”

“Another one of Victor’s dogs, huh?” She said, her voice dripping with contempt. 

“Victor whom?” The warlock asked, mystified.

“The guy she was having a screaming match against before.” Marcifax said with a little scoff.

“Ooooh. That Victor.” Sloan said, nodding as realisation set in. “I mean, we’ve never met, but a free meal is a free meal.”

“Are you talking about the feast or her magic?” The demon asked. 

“I dunno, both?” The warlock said with a little shrug.

“A free meal?!” The puppeteer exclaimed incredulously. “How dare you? I'll teach you some respect.” 

The airborne mage focused for a few seconds, summoning up a quartet of armed dolls. A pair of dolls armed with swords and shields advanced on the grounded magus with another pair of bow-wielding dolls took aim.

“Dolls?” Sloan muttered as he raised his fist, sending a flash of glowing runes down the length of his gauntlet. “Why couldn't it have been something cool, like lasers. Or magma, I love magma.”

“Half your spells are magma-themed already.” Mercifax tutted. “You need some variety.”

“But magma is cool though.” The warlock said, a little more defensive than he should have been. 

“Look, a bit of aesthetic work and I can make the dolls cool. I'm thinking… Imp-like?”

“Beggars can't be choosers, I guess.” He sighed. The melee dolls were upon him now, their swords raised menacingly. A pair of arrows had also been loosed in support, prepared to turn their foe into a pincushion. Before the puppeteer could react, however, a pillar of magma erupted from the ground right before her foe. Both swords-dolls were incinerated instantly in the raging inferno, with the arrows suffering a similar fate. As the magma subsided, a third blast of demonic magic shot across the battlefield, destroying one of the archer dolls as the puppeteer recovered from her surprise.

“See.” Sloan said, patting out a small flame that had caught on his cloak before gesturing to the puddle of igneous rock that had formed before him. “Totally badass.”

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