Spellcraft

“Bandits!” he shouted.

I leaped down from the wagon and ran to the rear of our procession. My companions were already running as the bandits rushed us from the east.

“Get behind me, get back!” I shouted at them. Then I began to weave a spell song:

‘Mighty Shield of the South Wind!

Shield, shield,

Protect our people

From all harm and danger!'

A wall of swirling wind formed between us and the bandits as I sang, deflecting projectiles.

One rider managed to keep his seat as he slammed into the wall of wind, but his horse reared up and threw him to the ground. Another fell off his horse when a rock struck it in the head.

I was singing as fast as my lungs would allow, until the effect of the spell song wore off. The bandits were still coming.

We scattered. I fled into the woods and almost immediately lost the others. Separated as I was, I knew that I was doomed. But I continued to run, knowing that the bandits wouldn't give chase while the luxury goods sat on the roadway.

I wandered for hours.

As the sun was setting I stumbled across a small stream that flowed into a large river. The water was cool and clear, and I drank deeply. As I stood drinking, something caught my eye.

Something was moving in the shadows, something that moved with the grace and speed of a dancer. I stepped forward and found myself face to face with a pale fox.