Meeting the Recruits

Martel spent the walk home from the copper lanes contemplating how he would conduct the training. He had never considered how to fight a mage without any magic of his own, but perhaps he could still draw on some of his own experiences. The encounter with Leatherfist, as uncomfortable as it was to remember, served as one example of how to attack a mage when ungifted.

His lesson next morning proved an opportunity to ask someone possibly more experienced. "Master Alastair, how would you fight a mage?"

His teacher gave him a stern look. "What kind of trouble are you in?"

"Nothing, I swear," Martel quickly said. "I'm just curious."

For a moment, Master Alastair looked sceptical before he replied. "It depends. Do I know their strengths? Weaknesses? A mageknight, I would keep at bay with a wall of fire. An elemental mage, I would avoid surroundings that suited them. See if I could learn their weakest element and use that against them. Assuming I survive long enough," he added with a grin.

"What if you don't have magic yourself?"

Master Alastair looked at him wryly. "An odd question. Do you fear losing your powers, or being attacked by someone without any?"

"I am just wondering. Seeing the praetorians fight, or learning about the school's defences, it made me think."

"Well, for people without magic, I have only one piece of advice. Don't fight mages."

~

Master Alastair's counsel did not exactly help Martel as he had hoped. He spent the remaining lesson practising as he should, fearing that any further questioning would make his teacher suspicious. Even if training men from the copper lanes in how to fight mages might not be against the rules, especially since he received no payment for it, Martel imagined that it was frowned upon by the faculty. They seemed to frown on all activities outside of school.

He spent his free hours that afternoon trying to conceive of methods that might be useful to teach Kerra's men. He thought about how he would fight against an attacker, what magic he would employ, and how someone might counter that. A few ideas came to mind, and once he had eaten his supper, he left the school for the slums.

~

The Copper Drum looked as it had yesterday. The doorman greeted him, and Martel entered.

"Master mage!" The barkeep waved from across the room, his voice rising above the noise of the customer's busy drinking. "Care for a mug?"

Martel shook his hand in refusal, avoiding having to shout over the clamour.

"Suit yourself! Kerra said your drinks are on the house, so just let me know!"

He would have to take advantage of that at some point tonight. But for now, he had a pressing engagement.

He made his way up the stairs and entered the maze-like hallways on the upper floors. Last night, he had tried to memorise the path to Kerra's chamber and now was a good chance to test his memory.

He did not have the opportunity to finish, as the Copper Lady herself met him in the corridor halfway.

"Fortunate. I was just on my way to the common room, expecting your arrival. Let me take you to your recruits." She beckoned him to follow, and they turned down another path inside the structure, unknown to Martel.

Eventually, they walked down a flight of stairs to reach the ground floor and finally leave the tavern building to reach a courtyard. A score of men waited, milling about or talking to each other. They carry an assortment of arms, from short swords in the style of legionaries to metal knuckles and saps suited for brawlers. Several of them wielded staves, and Martel recognised his friends among them. They nodded at him, Butcher smiling, and he returned the greeting.

"Listen up, you bastards." As Kerra addressed them, Martel noticed that a few were women as well. "You all know Master Martel. At least by reputation. I suggest you listen carefully, since his knowledge might save your sorry hides one day."

They all looked expectantly at Martel. A little flustered, he tried to gather his thoughts. It felt odd to have the attention of so many, most of them more than twice his age. "Alright. Yes. You all know that gold works to stop magic."

Several of the guards hefted their weapons or raised a hand with a golden ring on it.

"But only at a close range." Martel ignited a flame at the tip of his finger and moved his hand towards Kerra. Once he was a few inches away from her earring, the flame dissipated. "A piece of jewellery won't protect you everywhere. Make sure to wear some on different parts of your body, maybe your hands so you can block incoming attacks."

A few of them raised fists, waving them around as if boxing, provoking laughter.

"On your weapons is also good, if you got a weapon for blocking." Martel looked at the staves carried by several; at least he was familiar with that. "A golden ring around the tip of your staff will let you stop a magical attack, and you can also use the same point for attacking."

"Perhaps you can demonstrate?" Kerra asked. "Give them some experience in facing a magical assault."

"Sure." Martel nodded quickly. "Good idea. If you line up, I'll throw some magic at you, and you block with whatever golden implement you got."

"I don't have any," someone muttered as the guards fell into a line. He was the youngest of the bunch, barely older than Martel.

"That's fine," the mage told him. "I'll throw something harmless at you, just so you know how it looks and feels."

Once they all stood ready, Martel summoned a cold flame and let it fly at the man in front. He held up a fist with a golden ring, and the magic evaporated before his face. With a grin, he moved to the back of the line.

The next blocked similarly, wearing metal knuckles of gold on her hand. Cornelius followed with a necklace wrapped around his staff; as he swung against Martel's flame, the piece of jewellery went flying as well. As the others laughed, he retrieved it with a scowl.

Finally, the boy without any gold had his turn. As the harmless mote of fire flew towards him, he shrieked and fell to the ground. Startled, the man behind took the flame against his face, emitting a yelp as he slapped his hands against his cheeks, trying to fend off the fire.

"Lad fancies himself a Night Knife with those moves!" someone laughed.

"I guess dodging works as well," Lothar remarked.

~

Two hours later, they finished practice. All of them went inside for a well-earned drink; Martel lagged behind to have a word with Kerra. "It's slow work when it's just me attacking them. They're standing around a lot, waiting for their turn."

"You want to bring in another. Your friend, I take it."

"Yes." He nodded as they passed through the corridors. "Max is much better with empowering magic than me. He can demonstrate a proper magical shield, give them a better challenge."

"He does owe me a lot of coin. I could reduce his debts on the same terms as I offered you," Kerra considered.

"Max won't like it if it sounds like doing work he'll get paid for, but if you throw in a few free drinks, I think I can persuade him."

"I look forward to seeing you both here tomorrow night."