“Wait Magi before you go I have a short tale to tell you that I think you might find interesting and when I am done with it I’ll make you an offer. Will you bear with me a few minutes, I guarantee that it will prove worth your while.”
“Alright but this better not be an attempt to delay me while your squire gathers some men to captured or killed me. If that were the case then I have already spent far too much time talking to you so make every word count. With that caveat in mind, you may proceed thought I am not hopeful that this tale of yours will change anything.”
“Late in last year’s tournament season, I was approached by an old acquaintance of mine, from my days squiring for my cousin the Duke of Western Marche, called Dewa Wita. He is the third son of the highly successful merchant Trojan Wita who mainly trades with the Western and Outer Isles. As a third son, his father decided that he should enter the priesthood of Skanies but after some sort of scandal, he was kicked out before taking his final vows.
After this his father had him accompany a trading voyage to the outer Isles that returned without him. He had been imprisoned after he nearly killed the grandson of a minor noble over a gambling debt. After serving his sentence and some further adventures he returned home to find himself disinherited and forced to find a way to make a living independent of his family. He eventually started to organise hunting trips for nobles and the more adventurous idle rich.
Shortly before we ran into each he had been approached by someone to arrange for a different kind of hunt this time for treasure and not for sport. The man who was financing it had run out of money just as the treasure hunt was about to get underway. Thus they now needed to either pack it all in or find someone else to supply the remaining funds they required. I had just won the biggest tourney of the year so after failing to interest others with deeper pockets he approached me. I agreed to provide the required funds on the condition that I was to accompany them on their quest.
I know what you’re thinking it could have all been a scam and I did briefly consider that possibility but since they agreed to me joining and knowing the reputation of those involved I discounted this just as quickly. To tell you the truth I was bored, at the time I was thinking of retiring from actively taking part in tournaments and just run my banner from the sidelines.
I had won all but one of the yearly tournaments at least once and that was the one with the lowest purse. There were only two more tournaments that season and I thought why not see how my banner could do without me before making the final decision on whether to retire once I had returned from the quest.
So leaving all but my then squire Stibor Destry behind I faked a training accident and secretly joined the treasure hunt cum quest. I won’t bore you with all the details of what this entailed but while not exactly succeeding in what we had set out to do we did, as far as we could determine, get far closer to it than anyone else ever had or perhaps ever will and we didn’t exactly return empty-handed.”
At this point, Amondo paused in the recounting of his tale to give Robin a chance to respond to it and respond he did.
“Could you please get to the point and do it quickly I’m not willing to delay my departure for much longer.”
“I beg your pardon I am just about ready to tell you the purpose of the quest and more to the point what we managed to find while attempting it.”
“Alright but make it quick.”
“Other than myself my Squire and Dewa only two members of our party are of note or to be more accurate the only other members of our original party to return alive. These were the well-known antiquarian and treasure seeker and even more well-known but equally unconventional Maurice Ashdale, the self-professed master wizard of Cundus. The target of our treasure hunt was none other than the tomb of the last Magi, Ellar Wyeth and the treasure it is said to contain. Alas after over two months of searching we didn’t find it however we did find the tomb of his son Aldis Wyeth who is said to have predeceased him.”
“Was there any mention of his father to be found in the tomb?”, enquired Robin as he interrupted the tale.
“The tomb contained many things most of which we couldn’t identify and others that at first glance seemed familair but after further examination proved otherwise. We found many scrolls inside a large sealed box but after touching them once it was opened they turned to dust and several coins that must have been minted before the exodus as we knew not what they were made of. We also found several amulets like the one I am now wearing and even a wand that had been broken in two. Our greatest find was five books three of which were printed in the Okker Script and made of something other than paper or parchment.
I imagine that of all the things we found what would be of greatest interest to you would be the books. The first of the handwritten ones was a diary written by some unknown woman who was only identified by what we assumed where her initials PH. The diary details her life from the moment she first set foot on Cundus at the age of 17 to just before her death at the age of thirty from complications due to childbirth as was recorded within by her husband after her death.
The second handwritten book contained a rough draft of parts of Aldris Wyeths book ‘Memories of the motherland’, the only known copy of which was found in the ruins of Malanar. All of the printed books were as far as we could tell copies of the same text but printed in different languages. These were Trade, Old Tibous and a third language that none in our party recognised. The title of this text is one you are no doubt aware of, Cultivating the magical arts, by an anonymous mage.”
“You must think me stupid that I would so easily fall for your blatant lies, that your tale would ensnare me into changing sides, no sir if it is even a possibility it will not be that easy to do so.”
“The tale I told you is true and I can prove it, when we return from our quest we divided our spoils the books included and swore a sacred oath not to tell anyone about what we had discovered, well not before the end of a period of six months of secrecy. The copy in trade was given to Ashdale, the one in the unknown language went to Arron on the one in old Tibous landed in my lap.”
“So you claim to have the book and you expect me to do whatever you want to get my hands on it. I have of course heard of the book in question, anyone with even a passing interest in magic has. Our knowledge of its existence comes from a single source so who can tell if it ever truly existed or what information it may contain. And if what you say is true there are two other copies of the book out there and I could get my hands on one of them while still being true to my word to Eugene.”
“If only it was that easy about two months after we returned I heard that Ashdale had been poisoned and so I tried contacting the others but to no avail. Deva had been killed a week before Ashdale and Arton had fallen off the face of Cundus. I investigated further and even tried to buy Ashdale copy but it had gone missing and so I decided to send my copy away for safekeeping. I can have it returned to me easily enough and when it is I can let you have a look at it to confirm my story and then I am sure we come to some kind of arrangement.
“Your offer if it turns out to be aboveboard interest me but that doesn’t mean I am prepared to take you upon it. Not without have a good long think about it and depending on whether or not we can come up with a mutually agreeable method of conducting the exchange of the item in question.”
It was at this time that Robin withdrew a small book from what seemed like thin air and handed it off to Amondo.
“Everything that is written in this book will also appear in its twin and vice versa. When I reach a decision about your offer I will write it down in its twin, which is in my possession. It will probably take a few days for me to reach that decision so be sure to check your book every day. If there’s nothing else I will take my leave of you.”
“Nita sont Iotum tustimuntom nevom nen migos.”
“Old Tibous if I’m not mistaken never my favourite subject.”
“‘The mage is not born but forged a new’, the first words of Cultivating the magical arts, a taster of what is to come I hope.”
“Interesting I don’t suppose you could tell me the last words of the book?”
“Sorry I only memorised the first words and a few of the chapter titles.”
“In that case what was the title of the last chapter then?”
“If I remember correctly it’s, ‘An illagitae anfarmi celontitum dua’ or ‘The binding of the weak of will’.”
“Goodbye for now.”, were the last parting words of the magi before leaving.
Soon thereafter Amondo also left the inn but not before finishing off his mug of ale.
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