Freezing Shadows, Chapter 52

Chapter 52: Conclave

The Conclave of the Spectral Sword. That was the name of the group the dragon had given me. Not terrible, honestly. There were groups out there with names like the Hermetic Order of the Auric Aurora or the Society of the Phoenix Arisen, and other crazy shit like that. So, by that metric, the Conclave of the Spectral Sword was fine.

The letter I got included a quick background of the group. They were a collection of combat mages, united primarily by the fact that they used both magic and the blade. One of the big things was that they had a stricture that said members needed to balance their Astral Combat, Blades, and Spellcasting skills. Not that they had to be perfectly in tune, but, once they joined the Conclave, they needed to work on balancing the three, until they evened out. Once balanced, they couldn’t raise one without then raising the others.

I’d seen things like this in the beta. Basically, if you had three skills you had to balance, and they were at ratings 2, 5, and 5 (like my Astral Combat, Blades, and Spellcasting were) before joining, then you weren’t in violation of the stricture. However, you were expected to raise your Astral Combat to 5 before either of the other two could go to 6. Likewise, once you were balanced, once you raised one skill, you couldn’t raise it again without raising the other two, first.

Interestingly, the address in the letter was in a part of Redmond known as the Verge. The incredibly refined naming scheme was due to the fact that the area was on the verge of Glow City’s Green Zone and the FAN tribal lands. On the nose, but that was as expected for the Barrens. People didn’t usually wax poetic when they were fighting to survive their day-to-day life.

We were each on our own today, the third day after getting back to Seattle. Everyone had spent the last couple days getting things together, and prepping for their meets. I’d prepared by studying enough to drop 4 Karma and buy the Arcana skill. It was the ‘know magic shit’ skill, as some of the Beta players called it. It was also important on getting into an initiatory group.

At any rate, everyone had letters of recommendation to different contacts or groups, and there was no better time than the present to go check them out. Which is why I was driving through Redmond on the same bike I’d loaded in with day one.

Followed the Mapsoft’s guidance to get to the address without too much trouble. Sure, the software liked to say it was updated regularly, but that was only true in the ‘civilized’ parts of the sprawl. When you got out into the Barrens, things were a little less predictable, and you didn’t exactly have people reporting that a gang had set up a ‘tollbooth’ on their turf, or things like that. Still, I managed to get to the address in the letter.

From the outside, the building looked like your typical warehouse. Well, your typical warehouse in the better-used parts of the city, at least. No broken windows, intact fence line with razor wire on the top, litter free grounds, walls looked sturdy. Everything was well-made and well-maintained. But, other than that, there was nothing to indicate who owned the place.

Driving up to the automatic gate, I felt some pressure. Not physical, though. A quick peek on the astral showed that there was a heavy ward on the building, and I noticed some watchers patrolling just outside the fence line. This was definitely the place.

I took a breath and deactivated my foci, which allowed me to move up to the gate controls. The letter had a ‘guest code’ I could use to open the gate. Not surprisingly, that code also alerted anyone on site that there was an unknown visitor.

There was one other vehicle in the lot, a Toyota Gopher. Hardy truck, known for being reliable and low-maintenance, but not exactly the height of fashion. It was a truck designed to do work, on pavement or off of it, not to be a status symbol or compensating for the owner’s size issues. The dried mud on the sides said that the vehicle had definitely spent time off-road since the last time it had rained.

Iceblade’s Spellcasting test: 10d6 = 3 Hits, 0 Miss

Increase Reflexes (Force 3): +2 Initiative, +2 Initiative Passes

Resist Drain (3S): 13d6 = 4 Hits, 4 Miss (Drain Resisted)

I parked my bike next to the truck, and slid off of it, before activating my foci again, and casting my Increase Reflexes spell. I was coming as a prospective member and new friend to the Conclave, with a letter of recommendation, but I was also walking into the unknown, which meant I was going to be cautious. Like I’d told the girls, it was important to build good habits, so that you were ready when things went bad. And things always went bad eventually.

The door opened as I walked up to it. Standing on the other side was an ork woman. She was dressed in street clothes, with a lined coat over it. There was a revolver on one hip, and a scimitar in its sheath on the other. Looking closer, I could see signs that she was Awakened, with different images and designs on her coat and weapons, but I didn’t have the training to recognize what tradition she followed.

She looked me up and down, same as I’d done to her. Analyzing me. Finally, she said, “Well, what brings you to the Conclave, stranger?”

I held out the (still sealed) letter of introduction I’d been given. “I was given a letter of introduction here, with the idea that it would lead on the paths to power.”

The woman took the letter, and opened it. Her eyes widened slightly, and said, “You got the Lady of the Redmond Tower to give you a letter of introduction to us?”

I shrugged, and said, “My companions and I came to her to help sort out some difficulties we’d run into. In return for our aid, we helped her with a situation that had arisen, due to a corporation getting too grabby. She was pleased with the results, and so gave us introductions to those who could aid us.”

“And so, you want to join the Conclave of the Spectral Sword, and grow in power with us?”

“Indeed. Though I would learn who I am joining with.”

“As well you should,” the ork nodded. “I am Mia Porter, known as Templar to some, Second Blade of the Conclave. Our group cares not what tradition or mentor you follow. I, myself, take the Wiccan path, and follow the Dark Goddess. But each of us who join in the Conclave are combat magicians, first and foremost, wielding both spell and blade, whether in this plane or the others.”

I nodded in return, and said, “I am Mirikon Mollen, known as Iceblade. I follow the path of the Swordmage, little known outside Ola Serin, and Shark guides me as I hunt.”

Mia stepped aside, allowing me into the warehouse. “Then enter, Mirikon, and we will see if you are truly one of us.”

Walking into the warehouse, I could see that it was set up much like the one we’d taken as our base. There was an area near the front with four private rooms on two levels, and a communal sitting area, next to the entrance. The rest of the warehouse, however, was evenly split between an arena for combat or sparring, and an area that was clearly set up for ritual magic.

Mia led the way to the combat arena. She stopped at a table just outside the mat, and began placing her weapons on it. Guess the test was going to be combat, but not lethal, which I was thankful for. Killing my new contacts was a poor way to make an introduction.

The ork raised an eyebrow as my pile of weapons grew. She just had the sword (which a glance into the astral told me was a focus), her pistol, and a backup combat knife, while I had three pistols, four knives (two of which were the size of my forearm), a monofilament sword, and my weapon focus katana. The hardliner gloves I left on, and the Shock Glove stayed in my pocket. I simply smiled at her, and said, “It is a dangerous world out there. I try to be just as dangerous to those who would threaten me and mine.”

The woman laughed, and said, “Well, you’ve got the right idea about things, at least. Now, I can see the magic in your aura, but a member of the Conclave must be able to use more than just magic. You must be able to wield a blade in defense and offense, as well as spells. However, we are not barbarians, who go killing our own just for training. Which is why we have other options prepared.”

As she said that, she walked to a set of weapon racks by the wall. There were a variety of weapons there, all training weapons of one style or another. Some were wood, some different composites, and some blunted metal, but they were all ‘safe’. In game terms, they still counted as Blades, for the skill, but did Stun damage, instead of Physical. Useless in the real world, but just what we needed right now.

She picked up a composite copy of her scimitar, so I went and grabbed a wooden katana. Wasn’t quite as good as my blade, of course. The grip wasn’t customized, and it wasn’t a weapon focus, after all. But it still counted as a blade, which meant I could make it work.

We moved over to the center of the mat, weapons at the ready. She didn’t say anything. Neither did I. Words would only distract us from what was about to happen.

Initiative:

Iceblade’s Initiative: 9d6 = 2 Hits, 2 Miss (11 Init, 3 Init Passes)

Templar’s Initiative: 9d6 = 3 Hits, 1 Miss (12 Init, 3 Init Passes)

Templar’s Attack Roll (Iceblade): 11d6 = 4 Hits, 1 Miss

Iceblade’s Parry: 11d6 = 4 Hits, 0 Miss (No Net Hits)

All of a sudden, Mia—no, Templar—moved. Her blade came slashing in from above and to the side, but my katana was already moving up into a high guard, deflecting the blade, letting her superior strength carry the weapon forward, out of position. A textbook parry, made possible by magically enhanced reflexes.

Iceblade’s Attack Roll (Templar): 10d6 = 3 Hits, 2 Miss

Templar’s Parry: 11d6 = 3 Hits, 0 Miss (No Net Hits)

My blade surged forward, looking to take advantage of her blade being out of position, but Templar was not so easily beaten. She used the superior hand protection to make up for the shorter blade, pulling her hand back. My blade skidded down hers to the hand guard, allowing her to have the leverage to push it out of line.

Templar’s Attack Roll (Iceblade): 11d6 = 6 Hits, 1 Miss

Iceblade’s Full Parry: 17d6 = 8 Hits, 2 Miss (No Net Hits)

Templar’s next attack came hard and fast. Too fast. I wasn’t expecting the straight thrust with a weapon primarily designed for slashing. I couldn’t take half-measures with this one. I used a Full Parry, giving up my next action to boost my parry attempt. It was enough, allowing me to force her blade to the side enough that I could twist out of its way.

Templar’s Attack Roll (Iceblade): 11d6 = 2 Hits, 2 Miss

Iceblade’s Parry: 11d6 = 5 Hits, 2 Miss (No Net Hits)

A third attack. Now she was back to swinging from the side, but this time, it was low, trying to slash my leg. A tap of my blade held it back long enough to shift my footing.

Iceblade’s Attack Roll (Templar): 10d6 = 6 Hits, 2 Miss

Templar’s Full Parry: 18d6 = 4 Hits, 5 Miss (2 Net Hits)

Wooden Katana: 7S Damage

Templar’s Damage Resistance: 10d6 = 3 Hits, 2 Miss (4S Damage)

The move left her off balance. I had a shot. Surging forward, I slashed upwards left to right across her body. Templar recognized the danger, and tried to do a Full Parry as well, but I overpowered her parry with my positioning. A solid hit against her ribs. Nothing more than a bruise, most likely, but she would feel it.

Templar winced as she jumped backwards. Then, she straightened up, and saluted with her blade. “Well done, Iceblade. You managed to parry every blow, and even managed to land a hit. Yes, I think you’ll do quite nicely here.”

I returned her salute with one of my own. “I’m glad I passed the test,” I said. “So, what now?”

“Now,” she grinned, “we call in the others, and let them know a new blade has joined our number. They’ll need to be here to bind you to the group, and open the first gateway, after all. While we wait, I’ll go over the details, including the strictures we expect you to abide by.”