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[Rolzup]

Phillipe Takes a Swim

Xian and Savur Phillipe, we discovered, had made a deal. Xian would sell his lucky scarves, reaping a nice profit thereby, and in return for a percentage of the profits Phillipe would not "recruit" those he saw wearing them. Thus making them, I suppose, authentically lucky.

Xian saw this as a service to the community, "protecting" them from the honor of serving CITY. Phillipe, for his part, saw it as a way to make a nice profit with little effort.

This probably counts as treason. I certainly classified it as such, and at the very moment tried, condemned, and sentenced Phillipe Savur to death. Now all that remained was to carry out the sentence.

He would be coming to the monastary that very evening, to collect his share of the scarf money, and XIan was quite certain that he would not just allow their deal to end. We could, in theory, capture turn him into the Naval authorities -- King Daikon's mysterious book, we had discovered, was entirely full of eyewitness accounts of Phillipe's many crimes.

Including, lest I forget, the recruitment of one Joachim Driftwood, Delphine's earstwhile fiance. This had been done as a special favor to Xian, who had found young Driftwood's attempts at moral reform to be rather irksome.

But in truth, evidence or no, conviction was unlikely. Phillipe's family was too well connected, and had pockets too deep, for justice to prevail. And upon release, he would be very likely to make the people of Little Azikhan suffer.

Not, I hasten to add, that I gave a damn about a bunch of filthy foreign devils. But it's the principle of the matter! I simply will not tolerate this sort of abuse of power.

BY ANYONE OTHER THAN HIMSELF.

And so, we made plans. We knew that Savur would be accompanied by his assistant "Lucky", a rather shifty-looking fellow. And very likely he would bring some of his men along with him, to provide some "muscle". But how many men?

Not that any of it mattered, really, not with Burne's magic to defend the monastary.

DO I NEED TO ADD ANYTHING HERE? I DOUBT IT.

We spent this day preparing ourselves for the coming battle. I spent most of the day in meditation, sharpening my mind and focusing my Will.

SLEEPING, IN OTHER WORDS.

The Lieutenant arrived, on schedule, and words were exchanged. He was rather peeved at the situation, and didn't hesitate to let us know this. Even Kenji's skill proved insufficient to sooth the man's ire, and before long we found ourselves on the wharf behind the warehouse, facing Phillipe, Lucky, and perhaps half a dozen men.

MORE LIKE FOUR.

And when I say "we", let me clarify, I meant myself, Kenji, the madman, and Abraxis. Xian refused to get involved, and had insisted that we battle here, outside the confines of his sanctuary, to avoid the disruption of his magics.

(Xian had revealed to the others what I had already deduced; any bloodshed on the monastary grounds would break his power, and cause his magic to lose all efficacy. The consequence of some kind of heathen oath, I gathered.)

Xian made it clear, in fact, that if we failed to survive the evening, he would be resuming his former deal with Phillipe.

And Rackhir was perched atop the monastary walls, on the pretense of obtaining a better field of fire. I met his declaration with a simple roll of my eyes, and allowed him his attempt to save face.

RACKHIR, UNLIKE BURNE, IS AT LEAST CAPABLE OF HITTING WHAT HE'S AIMING AT.

The battle was brief, but one of the ugliest affairs I've ever witnessed. Kenji assaulted Savur Phillipe, who turned out to be a rather more adept swordsman that I would have guessed. The madman attacked Lucky, with little success. He was a quick little weasel, and aided his master in harrying Kenji.

And I? I laid waste to Phillipe's army....

FOUR THUGS, REMEMBER.

...with flame, and acid, and the raw power of my Art.

Rackhir probably did something as well. But it was dark, and I'm not certain.

Kenji, by this time, was badly wounded. Phillipe had suffered a few scratches, Lucky had fallen, and out madman was now frothing at the mouth. I heard someone scream that the madman's eyes were afire, but that was doubtless nothing more than the reflection of the flames that
I had personally conjured.

Now pressed hard by Kenji, and with myself turning my attention in his direction, Phillipe decided that discretion was the better part of valor. With a bound, he leapt into a dilapidated shack standing at the edge of the wharf.

A long-disused outhouse, as it happened.

He crashed through the floor, and plunged into the river Seleices. Kenji, poised to follow him, demurred when he realized that he would have to risk soiling his dress in the process.

The madman pursued, and a struggle resulted. It ended with the madman standing on the Lieutenant’s chest, and Phillipe inhaling rather more of the Seleices than was strictly good for him.

And our problems truly began.