Finally, someone has recognized the mercenary for what she was; a capable fighter. Either that, or they were sending her on what could only be accounted as a suicide run. It had landed in her lap as a summons letter. There was a lord of some land who has had some problems with one of their villages. Apparently, a group of mages has been preying on the village, stealing and pillaging what they could. Seems that now that they’re moving farther inward, striking at even more villages, the Lord could not ignore the matter any longer. Which completely makes sense to send Mirannda. Why send your own troops who may not be magically resilient, possibly to their deaths?
The lord would have to spend a lot more money for the hiring of more troops, training, and gear. Plus, the problem would not have been successfully dealt with. No, it was far easier to pay a mercenary of some renown, albeit small yet growing. Fortunately, the word of her revival ability still seemed to be hidden, but her magical prowess was getting some notice. Why not fight fire with fire? ”I don’t want you coming, Elata.” ”Too bad, Jaliza. You’re stuck with me. And… Calcifer” The mental voice of Elata groaned the name. Mirannda could only imagine the eye roll that would have accompanied the disgust. At the mention of his name, Calcifer zipped around her, coming to a rest on the mercenary’s flaming red and blonde ombre hair.
The flame sprite quivered with excitement, to which the sell-sword sighed. ”Remember, Calcifer. We talked about this. Don’t set me on fire.” Not that it would hurt her, but it was a pain to deal with constantly. With her companions in tow, the mercenary made her way into the Virens Forest. Beautiful, dense, and spooky, what better place to hide when it was hard to find your way around. It was far too easy to get lost in these woods. Calcifer was leaving deliberate scorch marks as they went in inconspicuous places, places that only Mirannda, Elata, or Calcifer would think to look. He was marking the path for their way back.
Night had fallen, and Mirannda continued venturing deeper, always at the ready, always trying to keep her arrival unnoticed, there was a flame dancing in the distance. Melding into the shadows, the phoenix crept closer without a sound. One, two… No, eight targets. What the hell were they doing? At the center of the clearing was a large ring of stones. Circling on the inside of this ring was a red circle, and a star touching at five points. Each point reached out toward a blazing torch.
Seven men chanted something, low and deep, repetitive as they rested on their knees, bowing so low their noses touched the ground. One stood tall, arms splayed wide, chin lifted to the night sky. The words she spoke were loud, and clear, strong over the men’s voices. Yet, the phoenix could not identify what was being said. With a smirk, the mercenary wondered how they would react to something out of the ordinary. In the shadows, she waved her hand, and the flames of the torches grew large and unruly. Her voice wavered only slightly, obviously startled.
Calcifer took this as his sign to play. His giggle sounded the crackles of a flame. Darting forward, the flame sprite landed on one of the mage’s robes, setting him aflame. He danced through the air to another. However, even as the flames were beginning to have fun, the damage was done. Whatever they were trying to do was working, as there was a figure beginning to appear into existence, slowly from a corporeal state. Something was summoned, and Mirannda began to mentally prepare herself for a fight she was not expecting.