Free Vicious Magick by Jordan Baugher

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.

Chapter 10: Arcania

    The ship pulls into the Arcania, the wizard
city, without incident. As the first contingent prepares to unload
crates of books, Zanther, Novanostrum, and Madra step onto the
dock. They can see spires and towers through the drizzling rain.
Dock workers mill about in their long raincoats. A few of them mill
closer to the three of them, surrounding them. Zanther gives
Novanostrum a panicked look, and half a dozen workmen shed their
raincoats, revealing cloaks, and our hapless protagonists find
themselves at the business end of a half-dozen staves.

    Novanostrum has his own magic stick drawn,
but he finds it levitated right out of his hands. Their aggressors
part, and an older, taller wizard makes his way toward them.

    “Novanostrum…I was under the impression we
banished you quite permanently. And yet, here you stand. You look
surprised to see me. Wait…hold that pose!”

    “Rassamander, you bastard! ”

    As he says this, the old man waves his staff,
freezing the three of them, knocking them into suspended animation.
Madra, eyes wide, with both hands over her mouth. Zanther, one hand
on the hilt of his still-sheathed longknife, and Novanostrum
rolling his eyes.

    Rassamander snaps his fingers and his
statuesque victims are placed on a wooden platform drawn by a
horse. He walks towards the main boulevard, trailed by the parade
float and his contingent of elite wizards.

    Varello sees this from his cabin window. He
climbs the stairs leading to the captain’s quarters and knocks on
the door.

    “I assume you saw what happened to them.”

    “What can I do? It’s not our place to fight
wizards. We’re librarians .”

    “I think I can