“This seems extremely untrustworthy,” the invader states, looking up at the massive, jet-black spikes protruding from the top of the stone gate.

“Oh it is,” confirms Avery, “whenever the guard decide it’s time to close the gate, those things slam down with the force of five thousand kilograms of unsupported adamantine, because that’s what it is. That only happens in the event of a siege, or some sort of plague, or a natural disaster, or at night though.”

“Explosion in the area doesn’t count as a disaster?”

“Not a natural one, that’s for sure. Also, since the damage done would be primarily focused on the inner city, closing the gate now would prevent evacuation for those who don’t want to risk being in the vicinity of a potential second incident.”

“What if the ‘event’ were to, hypothetically, be sourced from somewhere in the outer ring?”

“Then the gate would probably close. Evacuation would still be possible for the residents affected, as they could go out of the city, and the potential spread of the explosion source would be limited further from the castle.”

“In other words, for true widespread effectiveness, any attack would have to start deep within the city for a non-quarantinable spread.”

“That’s a bit morbid to think about,” Avery cuts the discussion short, eying the guard the group is coming up on, “and probably not the best thing to talk about in public while we’re about to be trying to pass the gate guards immediately after an explosion of unknown source.”

“Right, right. Gotta stay inconspicuous and all that. The true job of an innocent person is to not draw suspicion to themselves, because if the authorities are tracking down the one that’s suspicious for completely unrelated reasons, that’s resources that aren’t being used on the actual problem. Granted, that’s assuming that the innocent person in question isn’t a sympathiser for the actual perpetrator, as that would reallocate their priorities into that of wasting time and effort on the enforcement side of the law as an appropriate end.”

“Please ignore this creature,” Avery tells the guard, “I work at the Tower, here’s my identification. While doing magical experimentation, I discovered them, and will be taking responsibility for their behavior.”

“Well that’s a mistake,” mutters the least overtly criminal of the trio as the guard looks over the wizard’s card.

“What type of magical experimentation does ‘waste disposal’ prepare you for?” questions the gate guard, a slight smirk on his face.

“More than guarding a gate, that’s for sure,” Avery fires back, ignoring the concern on the faces of the creatures who would get caught in any authoritative backlash from her actions, “and more than any ‘self-taught’ mage who works off of whatever they can scavenge out of the trash pile after we dump it off.”

“So you have first dibs on the trash,” scowls the guard. “Identification is in order, be on your way.”

“Thank you,” says Avery haughtily, grabbing her card back. She continues into the tunnel, the invaders following behind, being uncharacteristically quiet and unassuming.

“Was all of that necessary?” asks the original quietly, “I get that you were distracting them away from thinking too much about us, but at a heightened alert status an aggressive position toward a policing presence can pose a personal bodily risk.”

“It’s all about precedent,” Avery explains at a normal volume. “That guy is obviously new, since he doesn’t get how wizards work. Wizards are to be treated with respect, if for no reason other than the fact that any of us can have a dozen methods of killing a random fighter on the spot. Magic is how every more than simply adequate thing comes about in this world, or even in any of the adjacent planes, and the people who are paid to stand in a location and hold a stick should consistently remember that they are on the lower rungs of reality itself.”

“Sure, that’s one way to look at things,” states the invader, “but as a counterpoint…”

Reaching up through the nearly invisible holes in the ceiling of the twelve meter high tunnel, up the darkened slit through the carefully shaped stone, the creature snags onto a small bit of metal and pulls with invisible force. To the side of them, a two meter long javelin of steel blasts into the ground through a carriage, the head of the bolt deforming upon impact with the ground and blasting steel shrapnel in all directions. A cloud of grit blooms out from the top of the ruined vehicle, filling the full six meter width of the tunnel with a cloud of impenetrable smoke.

“Forty five, take care that we won’t have any permanent inconvenience, would you kindly?” the invader directs to their companion. Avery feels an energy of some sort flow throughout the area, though none of the creatures make any motions or sounds to indicate the casting of magic. Rather, the original invader simply continues on with a “we should probably continue on as though nothing was happening before they lock down the area and start questioning us,” as guards emerge from a secret door embedded within the wall of the tunnel toward the wooden, shattered mess.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Directly in front of Ham was a fist, briefly. As he flies backward, he gets a good look at what’s connected to the fist. Turns out it’s an arm.

Unlike the previous time this exact thing happened to him, Ham is able to simply land flat on the ground in front of the pedestal, standing relatively unscathed from the encounter. A bit of blood from the face is nothing compared to the ragged mess that was left of his leg. Raising his hand in front of his eyes, he channels darkness into his busted nose as he brushes some of the black hair out of his eyes.

Without any obstructions or distractions blocking the way, Ham can see that the statue from before has been converted into a person. The woman holds the blade of light in her left hand, and the blue cape tied around her shoulders with a braid of thread the same shade of yellow as her hair billows dramatically in the storm of white flowers cycling around the room. That silver-grey sword shines with enough light to fully reveal the features glaring down at him, as well as the clothing converted from stone to the type of gaudy fashion used by nobility. Apparently the defenses on this mausoleum were a bit more elaborate than Ham had originally thought.

When someone went through the effort to animate a statue, and have that animatory effect affect the clothing of that statue, including making the puffy cockatrice pants have feathers that moved in the wind, they were spending quite a bit of gold to bring their vision of reality into existence. Golems crafted from any material by a wizard were immune to magic, and deadly with a sword. Ham couldn’t remember anything about what was special about ones made of stone, but that sword in particular had activated death beams, and now had a wielder to activate it instead of relying on the single-use trap activation.

“I’m just gonna go now,” he said to the statue, stepping backward out of the room.