The gentle knock on Rendrick’s door woke him from his uncomfortable sleep. Wiping the drool from his face, and the book he fell asleep on, he called out permission to enter his private quarters.

“Good morning Master Rendrick, Master Voren has instructed me to be sure you were up and prepared for the day,” said the slight woman who entered holding a tea tray overburdened with fresh breakfast.

With an excited air, Rendrick snapped closed his defiled book and lobbed it onto one of the stacks of books littering his study room. Pushing some letters and writing tools aside, he made room for the tray.

Rendrick’s study room was a picture of late-teenage geekdom as it applied to mage-craft. Bits of metal, quills, ink pots, books, and dust, the only thing not left laying around was half eaten meals. The reason for the half-eaten meals being cleared away was due to his personal maid. The nature of mage-craft made moving or cleaning anything else in the room a terrible idea.

“Thanks, Mothe…err...maid Evelyn, everything looks wonderful, it’s just what I would want for today,” the awkward almost slip hadn’t happened in years, but Rendrick’s lack of sleep and distraction for his important day almost caused him issues.

Trying to smooth over the stumble over their relative stations, maid Evelyn passed into Rendrick’s little-used bedroom and pulled from his closet an outfit for the day. Today he would spend time out of the tower, among the commoners and gentry alike while also visiting a more sordid section of the city; the clothes laid out were nice, but had hidden armor woven in. Every step outside the tower had potential dangers and Evelyn would not tempt fate today of all days.

Mages are a rarity, the vast majority of sentients express their mana internally, mages express their mana externally. While Mages are rare, a trained Mage with support is rarer still. Once a Mage gains the ability to harness sources beyond their primary attunement their capabilities skyrocket.

A Mage can cast spells of their own attunement, a Magister of their attunement and a source they have purified as well as a mixture of the two. A Magus has two sources beyond their primary and the mixtures thereof. Beyond Magus is the Arch-Mage, with three or more sources and their primary. The capabilities of an Arch-Mage are so varied and frightening, unique to each Arch-Mage, that only betrayal from within is capable of killing them.

Rendrick was apprenticed to Arch-Mage Voren, Primary of Time, confirmed Source of eight, rumored of many more. Today was the last day of his apprenticeship and the day he would be set free to build his own power. His parting gift from his Master was the purchase of a Defender and the use of the family dungeon, controlled by Arch-Mage Voren for more than three hundred years. He would be the fifth son to enter the dungeon and hopefully the second to escape it.

The world of the Mage was a world of practicality. Those who failed to respect a Mage’s station needed to be educated as to their mistake. Children who can not externally express magic are ignored since they become at best a handle on the Mage, at worst, their downfall. Only Mage children are recognized, and even then only as they follow the strict social structure which ensures Mages of power will be able to one day work with them. Mages surround themselves with those with a slave bond or those who are - or one day will be - their peers. Peerage or Slave, those are the only options of safety for Mages and at the beginning of their career is when they are the most vulnerable only protected by the power and politics of their Master and their Defender.

Rendrick reached his magical Attunement at the age of twelve, slower than other children, but common enough for those who Attune to frost. That day changed many things for Rendrick, recognition by his father - now Master - and the loss of the closeness of his Slave branded mother. The following three years consisted of intense study in casting spells of frost, some he created, some developed with insight from Arch-Mage Voren, but all under the careful care of his personal maid.

After breakfast and dressing, quickly combing his long black locks back and out of his face, Rendrick strode down the tower and to the courtyard. A single gentle nod and wave to maid Evelyn, who he would only see from then on in passing if at all, had Rendrick stepping into the carriage where his Master waited.

Looking at the carefully serene face of his apprentice, Arch-Magus Voren nodded, “Good. Comportment even at the end. It’s difficult I know. I’m not particularly a fan of the system myself, but the first rule of our society is practicality, it’s either upheld or you die.”

Arch-Magus Voren had to create a careful balance with his children and the rest of Mage society. He was at the pinnacle of power, so was hounded by political forces from outside, but he also needed to maintain strong relations with his children who may one day reach similar heights.

Rendrick felt affection for his master in this moment. Few other mages would recognize his feelings in that moment, the years from their own apprenticeship and the subsequent years of power having dulled the memories.

The ride to the Downesend Quarter of the city was slow and silent, each reflecting on the changes the day would bring. For Rendrick, today would be the purchase of his first, and most important, slave. A prospect that he both understood the necessity of and loathed. But it also meant the start of his own rise to power. With the right Defender by his side, he could gain breakthroughs in combat with relative safety. The Defender, while lacking the power of a mage, would also gain in power along with their mage and so a soul bound slave was required.

For Arch-Magus Voren, this would be the end of his comfortable interaction with his son and apprentice and begin the start of political maneuverings. That, of course, assumes that his son manages to make it through the dungeon. A hope Voren had had for each of his sons but that had only come true with one, and it was arguable that he had not come through whole.

Each was broken out of their silent thoughts as the carriage reached the slave merchants warehouse. Cobbled streets led into the gated courtyard of a building of solid stone construction situated near the docks.

The warehouse had two wings, the left-hand wing, closer to the docks, was built like a jail, and in fact, served that purpose more often than not. The left wing was the residence of cutpurses, murderers, and other low-end slave labor, usually relegated to rowing duty on boats.

The right-hand wing of the building, on the other hand, more resembled that of a dormitory. Each slave was given a small personal room instead of a metal cage, each was allowed to leave their room and walk the grounds, given small duties around the building, and generally treated relatively well. There was no need to treat these slaves badly, after all, each was either slave branded or collared with a slave controller. Despite the nice conditions the residents could no more leave then their caged brethren, they were a higher quality of merchandise, nothing more.

It was to the right-hand wing that the pair was directed by the slave master, a short and fat man who made every effort not to look the Arch-Magus or Mage in the eye. While the Arch-Magus had purchased a few slaves from him before, he knew the relative differences in their standings, the Arch-Magus was a power unto his own self. If the Arch-Magus decided to destroy the town as a rebuke for poor service the king would send nothing but an apology to the Arch-Magus.

Entering a common room, the slave master directed a slave to gather specific room numbers to join them. Focusing on large and strong members was the priority. While the pair waited the slave master had tea and crumpets delivered. Neither caster would drink or eat anything that their own slaves had not prepared, but the social protocols had to be followed. At no time did the slave master sit, he stood at attention to the side of the large well-appointed room and waited for his merchandise to arrive.

Within a short period slaves filed into the room standing in rows, most with their heads down while a few directed a look of anger or looked straight ahead with a vacant stare. When the Arch-Magus stood he flexed his power, letting the pressure of hundreds of years of combat and magical study rush through the room. The oppressive force swept aside any idea of rebellion, the point of the Arch-Maguses action, if insulted he would have to rebuke the slave and the slave master as well. A habit of that kind of action meant he would have to use force again in the future and trade was so much simpler. Practicality wins out yet again.

“No females. It would be too easy to grow attached,” the voice of the young Mage surprised slave master Fent, his focus had been on the Arch-Magus, understandable since his presence was frightening even when he held his power close.

Quietly proud of his apprentice, the Arch-Magus nodded and waved his hand in agreement. Quickly the female slaves, the majority, were directed to leave. All that was left were the large and strong male specimens.

“Arch-Magus, this first slave is a northern barbarian. He is skilled with a longsword and has skills in herbalism, focused on northern herbs of course, and was captured during the last war with the north. He is a third son of the Narm of the North, that may cause some political issues or provide political benefits, that is of course, for you to decide.”

Though the room was relatively cool since the weather had started to turn towards winter from fall, the slave master was sweating heavily. His voice didn’t break and his manners were impeccable, trained often to deal with the gentry, but the Arch-Magus was a different beast entirely. The mistake of focusing on females reduced his options significantly, he had been purchasing females for months over males expecting the young mage to focus in that direction like any young noble would have.

Rendrick looked at the large man, his body still smeared with boiled animal fats to protect his skin from the cold northern winds even though he was no longer living in that region. This indicated a failure to adapt to new circumstances, but beyond that, his focus on large swords was less than useful in a dungeon or as a Defender. No, none of his skills remotely served for the role of Defender and while he could be trained, added political issues would be an added complication. When Rendrick mentioned his thoughts his Master agreed also pointing out that a northern barbarian only gained a minor advantage in resistance because of their cold weather experience, hardly a significant advantage even with a frost focused mage.

Similar criticisms were placed on the other slaves; special diets, bonuses which would not be useful for a Defender, etc. Finally, the magical pair were left with two options. One was a Half-Ogre, trained as a guard by the local Baron, skilled with heavy armor, shield, and sword, sold as a slave because he was caught with a maid the Baron himself fancied, or that was the rumor as the slave master heard it.

While the Half-Ogre seemed to be a perfect choice, the young Mage was intrigued by the Troll who stood next to the Half-Ogre, the bandages which wrapped around both hands up to the elbow was interesting considering the vaunted regeneration of trolls.

Gesturing to his point of interest Rendrick inquired, “Why is this Troll injured? Is his regeneration defective?”

The slave master had a look as if presenting uncomfortable news since injuries to the merchandise shouldn’t be needed, these slaves were collared and couldn’t disobey without pain.

“Well Sir, the Troll tried to escape each time he woke up as they shipped him down here from where they caught him. Pain apparently doesn’t mean much to him so they had to change the collar to the third level, fire or acid is about the only thing that actually slows their regeneration so that’s what they settled on, fire. It will heal, not as fast as normal for a Troll, but faster than for a Human.”

This news was interesting to both of the mages, a Defender can’t be stopped by just pain, and a Defender who could recover as well as the fabled Trolls would be useful. Normally Mages would use fire fairly regularly, it was almost always the second Source that is purified since it allowed for so many offensive options, but with frost being Rendrick’s primary attunement fire would be less useful. This might actually make a strong confluence between Defender and Mage, one largely immune to frost and the other focused on frost for his offense.

Peaked their interest might be but there was still an important question left to ask. “What are their Attunements? I know trolls usually have Rage or Nature and Ogre’s Earth, what is the case here?” asked the Arch-Magus.

This was the question the slave-master had been waiting for, the only reason he had included the troll in the selection.

“The Troll has Earth attunement while the Half-Ogre is attuned to Rage,” it took every skill level in merchant for the slave master to avoid smiling. Rage was worse than worthless for a Defender, it was useful for gladiators and other offensive focused work while Earth was aligned perfectly for defense. Placing these two selections together, was a masterstroke of marketing and was worth two skill ups in merchant for the slave master. Highlighting a rare selection with a slightly less useful alternative was a time-tested strategy.

“We will take the Troll, what is his name?” asked the Arch-Magus.

At the word ‘name’, a word he had learned to recognize, the Troll looked up and with his guttural accent said “Name. Gur-Dun.”