Cowled Ones 3

The government district. Home to the government of Amn and many of its most distinguished and richest families. And to the headquarters of the Cowled Wizards. It is in the bowels of the Council of Six building, although we aren’t actually part of the government. As if the Amnish would tolerate the idea of having an organisation of wizards being part of their government. We are tolerated, and as long as we behave, the Athkatlan people will ‘let us deal with our kind.’ Then again, the border between government and private orders, armies and organisations is hazy in this city.

The four of us enter the hall, filled with various magistrates performing their functions. A rather young Cowled Wizard, is talking to some daring nobles. Poor sod, stuck with dealing with them. He is probably explaining a few hundred times that the explosion in the Promenade was not some plot of ours and we’ve already caught the guilty parties. Some of the magistrates and nobles here are already looking at us with more distrust than normal. News travels fast in Athkatla. Chief-inspector Brega looks like he’d want to arrest us, but he always looks like that.

We go into a hallway for some minor services that nobody ever needs and go down a small set of stairs. There’s a locked door at the end. I take out the key I have, and the other three also have a copy off and open the door. Within is an empty room with a couple of tables and paperwork scattered on them. I walk towards a part of the wall that is in no way different from the rest and say a meaningless string of syllables. The wall opens.

“Halt. Who are you, and what did you come for?” A voice asks, clearly used to the questions. I have my answer prepared.

“I am a Cowled Wizard. I have come to witness the judgement of the two captives of Waukeen’s Promenade.” I do not say my name, and I don’t know the name of the man asking the question. Behind me Melanos, Cerin and Edon reply evenly.

“They speak truth. Enter.” The cowled man steps aside and we enter a room illuminated with magical light. It’s busier than usual. What happened this morning affects all of us Cowled Wizards in Athkatla. Most people want to see the persons that made sure people will fear them even more, not to mention have the power to blow up a major part of the pride of Athkatla. And Relantis wasn’t the only Cowled Wizard who died there who had friends.

The room fills up easily. The Cowled Wizards headquarters isn’t anything near the halls of the Order of the Most Radiant Heart. There is a central room with two scrying pools in the middle, and a third one constantly showing a map of Athkatla. A few rooms without windows and mirrors attached to the wall for communication, a library, a small laboratory, a storeroom for magical items and a room with a large teleporter that is used to get us all over the city.

There are about 70 wizards in the central room. That’s a nice chunk of the Cowled Wizards active during the day in Athkatla. There aren’t that many of us. Even for me, it’s hard to estimate how many exactly. Diviner or not, under the cowls, I am unable to distinguish them, and there is no way all Cowled Wizards in Athkatla would ever be in one place. Too dangerous, in more way than one. I see a cluster of wizards around one sitting wizard. Most of them I don’t recognise. The small figure, shorter than me even, I only know as ‘Ringlets’ She’s easy to recognise as even the cowl cannot disguise her elven blood. She’s been pretty popular recently, apprentice to one of the higher ups. I spoke to her but once, but she seems nice enough.

The other one I do know. Quelani. About as tall as me, she can manage to hide her half-elven blood in the cowl, although I know she’s not at all ashamed of it in public. It’s not her length that makes me recognise her though, but her attitude. There’s few persons that can pull off looking so casually arrogant without even showing their eyes.

“Well? Didn’t you have enough to drink yet? Start talking already. I must know what happened.” Her voice is firm as well. I can’t blame her for not coming to the Promenade. Quelani knows she might lose her cool, and she would never do that in public. She’s extremely proud and competitive, not to mention ambitious. During operations, she obeys orders without question, but I know that if I make a mistake, she’ll be sure to tell me afterwards.

Someone sees us. “Hey, there’s the rest of the Class, Countess!” Oh yes. As Cowled Wizards usually do not know each other’s name, those that are… well-known get nicknames. I find it childish, but you get used to it. Her name fits though. And the Class? That’s the six of us… five of us now I guess. Melanos, Quelani, Edon, Cerin and me. And Relantis.

“Ah, there you are. What kept you T?” She asks in the usual disrespectful tone. As long as I don’t show weakness, she won’t either. Still, I can hear flatness underneath.

“Taking care of things.” I simply say. “We only just heard the wizards were captured. We came here to get information.”

“All I know from him here till now is that it’s probably the man that blew stuff up and… took out R. And that he isn’t here yet.” The pause is audible only if you expect it, and she says ‘took out’ just a little bit too casual. “Once he started remembering he started shaking like a leaf and asked for drink.”

I frown. The seating man has a glass and a bottle of liquor in his hands. But it’s unlikely the man will go back on duty. He looks terrified.

Edon makes his way next to the man and kneels next to him. Quelani doesn’t object that he takes over the questioning. Edon is pretty good in these things.

“Calm down. Just tell us from the beginning what happened. You don’t need to go in detail. But we want to know what happened there.” Gaining trust is another thing that’s hard when you don’t show your eyes, but Edon manages somehow. He’s got a pretty warm voice. His nickname is the Doctor. He’s not the only cleric around, and he’s in fact not even a designated healer but an Enforcer. But he never let that stop him.

It works as usual. The man nods and takes a gulp and a deep breath. “I was... studying in the library. I knew the Ilmaterite, I mean, your friend, was waiting near the gate in case something big happened. And then suddenly someone detected a whole load of magic near the Promenade and people start yelling. I ran to the teleportation mirror to see what was going on, just to see the Ilmaterite run through. T… they said there was a lot of magic involved, and we needed more people so I… I jumped through. I did jump through right. I’m not a coward!”

“Of course not. Nobody here thinks you’re a coward. And you aren’t even an Enforcer. You went beyond the call of duty. Nobody will blame you.” Edon assures him. There’s a large audience for the tale. The man is the only one talking in the room.

The man nodded. “So I jump through, and I’m trying not to lose my lunch. And I look around and I see some corpses here and there. And a bunch of people standing with some girl with pink hair throwing spells. And the Ilmaterite was standing a few metres away. And then I saw the guy look at him. And he said a word and… the Ilmaterite… he just exploded.” The shaking gets worse. Edon gives the man a few pats on the back.

“And… and… I’m just staring in shock at it, too screwed up to even start casting a spell, and I hear one of the other guys telling him to stop. And he… he didn’t seem too impressed.” The man gives a terrified chuckle. “So I’m standing there scared to death, and I open my mouth and say. “Even if we fall, our numbers are many. You will be overwhelmed.” Isn’t that bloody hilarious? I’m ready to wet my breeches, and I’m starting to talk like a knight of the Order.” The man starts laughing. Gods, I hope it’s just the alcohol and he isn’t losing his mind.

Edon grabs his shoulder now. “Relax, relax. It’s all over. Just take another sip and breathe a bit.”

The man follows the Edon’s advice and continues calmer. “Well, I was expecting to die the next moment. He looked at me and said something. I don’t know what. Those eyes. I don’t care what divination says, that… that… whatever he is, he’s NOT human.” He breathed and regained his composure. “I don’t remember much afterwards. Someone else told me they teleported them to a place in he slums to check on them before judgement. Him and the girl. He surrendered if the girl was taken as well, and since we were going to do that anyway…” His voice trailed off. “I don’t know how you Enforcers guys keep doing this. I feel like never going out of the library again.”

“I think this one was a bit more than we’re used to as well. And we’re all afraid too at times.” Edon comforts him and turns to the others. “Can anyone make sure he gets some rest? I don’t think he should be here when they’re bringing them in.”

One of the other wizards nods and takes the now rather drunk mage with him. Just in time too. A few seconds later the mirror starts humming. Someone is coming. All the mages turn to the door. I can almost hear them mentally preparing their spells, just in case. I step forward a bit so I’ll be able to see them as soon as they come out of the mirror. Behind me are the rest of the Class.

There are a couple of flashes of light, and the figures appear, surrounded by six nervous looking Cowled Enforcers. The girl looks even more scared than the Cowled Wizard that just left. Pink hair, clothes that look very much the worse for wear. She’s not afraid of us, that’s for sure. She’s trying to keep as far away from the other prisoner as possible.

The other one… I can see why he would be considered intimidating. Lean, tall but muscled; you couldn’t say from his body that he’s a mage. The clothing consists of pieces of fabric, held together by a lot of leather straps. There’s something about his face. It doesn’t look right. And the eyes. I’ll admit it. I really don’t feel comfortable with those eyes on me. Cold and analytical with a hint of disdain, like we’re a rather uninteresting subject of study. Despite the glow around him that shows that his magic shouldn’t affect anything outside his small bubble and the fact that his hands are bound, he still looks like the people around him are an escort, and not guards.

“Why was I brought here? I grow weary of your constant games, magelings.” He spoke.

Wait a minute! Spoke? I avert my gaze from the wizard and look at the leader of the Enforcers guarding him.

“Why are they not gagged?” My voice breaks the tension, and I can now actually hear the sound of people behind me starting to breathe again. “Regulations require any apprehended mage to be gagged before being brought here.”

The Enforcer answers my stare. He looks twitchy. “We… he offered resistance and… we decided to get this over with as soon as possible. Even if he can cast spells without his hands, we’ve got a triple dose of shielding around him.”

“Regulations are regulations, especially for highly dangerous mages!” I reply irritated. “We’re at our headquarters, for the Weave’s sake. Gag them!” I know the guy is scary, but those are the ones the regulations are for!

One of the Cowled Wizards takes out two pieces of fabric and takes a couple of steps towards the mage, meets his gaze, then falters and gives me a pleading look.

For Helm’s sake… Yes, he blew up half the promenade, but to see a Cowled Enforcer looking like a five year old at an umber hulk… Enough of this embarrassing show.

“I’ll do it.” I say and step forward. There’s a murmur behind it. I can make out my own nickname among my colleagues. Coldheart. Ridiculous. I feel as much as anyone else, I just keep it always under control. Control, that’s important in magic. The other man hands me the gag and I turn to the man that killed Relandis. His eyes narrow slightly. There’s a chill down my spine, but I ignore it. I’ll see this done by the book. I approach him until I reach the blue glow, and with another step, I enter. I am suddenly extremely aware of the fact that if this mage can cast a spell without using his hands, I could be dead in the next second.

I fight down a wave of panic. I can always be dead in the next second. A crossbow bolt from a two-copper thug can take out an arch-mage or master assassin. I am a Cowled Enforcer, and I often deal with danger, and this is hardly a critical situation. Powerful or not, everyone has his limits. I know that at least four people behind me are ready to attack him.

I look up at the mage, staring him in the eyes. “Open your mouth. You must be gagged.” My voice is hard and firm. It is extremely quiet now.

His face remains impassive as he answers. “Your wishes are meaningless to me. Perform your judgement on us as quickly as possible. That is all.”

Without looking back I know that a lot of hands behind me are reaching for spell components. And one hand for an axe handle.

“There are a couple of dozen mages behind me. Many of them hope an exception will be made by the commission and you will be executed. Some of them have expressed the wish to kill you themselves. Open your mouth or I will open it for you.” I raise my hand. I’m not bluffing. It wouldn’t be the first time I had to cram a mouth open.

The wizard looks at me. For a very brief moment I think I see the beginning of anger flickering in the eyes. It fades quickly though, and the man opens his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine. I break the stare and concentrate on getting the gag properly fixed. One piece in his mouth, the other across his face. I turn away and get outside of the shell.

People are giving me awed and relieved looks. Guess my reputation for being ice-cold just got a boost. I look at the other prisoner. She’s still looking at the man in terror. They haven’t gagged her either. I guess that would draw too much attention at the fact they were too afraid to gag the man. I extend a hand for one more gag. “Her too.”

The Cowled Wizard looks surprised. “But she’s probably out of…” I stare at him and he falls silent and hands me another gag. Looks like the leather-clad mage isn’t the only one that can give looks that silence people. Ten to one people will make quips about possible family connections before noontime.

I go towards the girl. As I stand before her she finally averts her gaze and looks at me with pleading eyes. “Please, don’t send me with him! I didn’t hurt anyone! I fought him with you guys! Doesn’t that count for something?”

Well there’s the other kind of reaction. They either act like they’re still ‘omnipotent’ and are insulted that you would ‘dare’ to punish them, or they’re all meek. Still, she seems more afraid of him than being imprisoned.

“No.” I reply. “You used magic in public. There aren’t any exceptions. You should have thought of that before coming to Athkatla.”

“But I didn’t know where I was.” She cries. “He captured us south of Baldur’s Gate and when we woke up we were in his dungeon! I didn’t know! That’s what I’ve been telling all along!”

I raise my eyebrow. People denying they knew about the ban on magic wasn’t unheard of, and it never worked, but saying you didn’t know what city you were in? “Do you have any proof of this?” I ask.

She shakes her head hesitantly. “No, but I swear it’s true! He tortured us for months, sticking his fingers in my head, cutting me! Don’t let him get near me!” She grabs my cowl.

That IS an unusual reaction. I remove her hands calmly. “He will no longer be a threat to anyone. Most likely, he will be sent to the Asylum for the rest of his life. Just like you, since you have no way of proving your unusual claim. But if you show yourself to be responsible and reasonable enough to wield magic, you may be released. On that note, open your mouth.”

“But…please…” Puppy dog eyes and tears. The usual. I’ve seen fake ones and I’ve seen real ones and it has never stopped me before. The rule IS simple isn’t it? Don’t use unauthorized magic. Never. No exception.

“Open your mouth.” I say again, my tone a bit harsher. She lowers her head and opens her mouth. I silence her as well. It’s not like I think she will be able to cast spells, but once you start making exceptions on the rule, you’ll have a rogue wizard throwing fireballs in our headquarters before you know it. I turn around. The other Enforcers are unfazed, but the others look uncomfortable. The usual story. They support the rule, but when they see it put into practice, the one doing it is the ‘cold-hearted’ one. Edon has a rather sad smile on his face, but I know he’ll back me up. And if I can read Quelani’s face right, I’ll get a remark about talking too much somewhere today.

Minutes later, the committee arrives. The judging itself is a short affair. An other Enforcer that was present at the capture gives a report of the operation and the Enforcers that brought them in gave their report of the information they gathered, which is sparse. The man’s name is Jon Irencius, and that is about all we know. The name of the girl is Imoen, and she claims to have been kidnapped South of Baldur’s Gate and tortured for an unknown amount of time, together with her companions. There is some commotion when the torture is noted, and I hear Cerin beside me mutter that an exception should be made to the ‘no executions’ thing. I’m pretty sure that won’t happen. We’ve sent some pretty bad cases to Spellhold for life. I feel for the girl, but considering that she just went through a trauma, it only gives one more reason not to let her use magic in public.

After twenty minutes it was over. Imoen and Irenicus were taken back to the room they came from. Most wizards leave. What is going to happen now makes many wizards nervous. If any of us starts slipping, he could end up going their way after all. The five of us and some others wait as one of the specialised Cowled Wizards caresses the runes on the teleportation device her hands. Soon afterwards the inside of Spellhold can be seen. They have been warned. At least twenty Cowled figures are waiting with wands and spell components in their hands.

The Imoen girl struggles as two Cowled ones take her to the portal, while Irenicus seems almost eager.

“If you ask me, he thinks something along the lines off ‘I’ll escape in no time’” Quelani mockingly says.

Melanos gives a short chuckle. “There’s plenty of people who thought that and died there. The boys and girls that get sent to guard duty in Spellhold aren’t the nicest, but they know their spells.”

“I hope the girls gets over it.” Edon says. “But… strange as it may sound, I agree with C. I’ve got the feeling it would have been better if we’d have made an exception. As painless as possible. Not because of R but… there is something very worrisome about that Irenicus.”

“He’s a torturer and R’s killer. That’s plenty for me.” Cerin says. “How much of our money goes to keeping creeps like him alive anyway?”

“We’re guards, not executioners.” I react. “We have the responsibility to restrict the usage of magic, not judging who deserves to live and who doesn’t. Let judges and adventurers do that.” I put some sneer on ‘adventurers’ and I know the others are rolling their eyes. “Pay attention instead of talking about what you can’t change. Let’s see the end of this.”

They nod and we watch as the two prisoners are teleported many kilometres away. For a brief second they vanish as they walk in the mirror, then we see them on the other side, immediately guarded and controlled by the Cowled Wizards there. Seconds later they’re out of our sight and the mirror fades.

“That’s that.” I turn to the others. “I don’t want to make a lingering issue this. No feelings of guilt because we weren’t there. No useless anger or hatred against that Irenicus. No bitterness because of all this. Relantis died doing what he believed was right, and his death was not in vain. I’m not going to ask of you to forget him. We never will. But we must put it behind us.” I look at the mirror. I only see myself now.

“This matter is finished.”