“Water.” Crymo said as he sat down in a shabby tavern in the slums. He didn't need to look around to know that the people around there were dirt poor and that their local Baron didn't care. As long as they didn't go away, which was why he was there. To quell down the one person that was stirring up trouble.
A young waitress handed him a dirty mug filled with water, she sent him a hopeful smile. She looked better with her lips shut. He threw her a golden coin. “Better bring more water lass.” He told her as she walked away, he downed the water in one gulp. It was pisswarm, but didn't bother him. It would cool down when he needed it to.
His contact entered as the waitress dropped a large pint of water on the table. Crymo started drinking right away, it was still warm. “Hullo wizard.” His contact said spitefully. He was a merchant, the short, fat and grumpy kind you find in rough places. Crymo noted that he propably lived in the slums too.
“Where's the preacher?” Crymo said bluntly, throwing the merchant a glance as to size him up. “Nearby your shop?”
“It's here nearby, and don't you be trying no wizard tricks on me! I'll have none of it. If you wanted to help us folk, you would've done it months ago.” The merchant obviously had a big grudge against wizards. One could not blame him, as they rarely set their paths through the slums unless for shorter travelling or situations such as these. The kind involving money. Crymo finished the water and pointed the merchant to walk off. They left the tavern and soon came upon an apartment building, one of the worst looking in the neighborhood while at the same time, it looked like it had been the best looking one when it had been finished years or decades ago. The street there was empty unlike on other places in the slums, not even animals dropped by there. “He should be inside there in the darkness. That's what he likes.”
“Photophobic?”
“What? I don't understand your wiza…”
“Is he afraid of the light?” Crymo shot back.
“How should I know? I stay out of his way.”
“Then I reccomend you do so, now.” Crymo said as he walked up to the door and kicked it wide open. The scent of dust and blood attacked his nostrils. Thankfully he was used to it by now.
He bent his knees and shot out his arms in both directions, his fingers tingling as to look for something. He sensed water below him. There had to be a flooded basement there, his gut told him.
THWACK!
Something tore into the door behind him, and he hit the floor.
THWACK!
Something tore up the wooden panels. He turned his neck and saw a man in Missionary clothing standing in a flight of stairs, a bone staff in his hand. He reached out with his powers and pushed himself forward. The planks turned to ice as Crymo slid across them towards the preacher, the bonestaff firing some projectiles in his directions making THWACK! sounds as the impacted with the timber.
As Crymo reached the stairs, the preacher leapt backwards into the darkness, laughing. “You dare to invade my domain?”
“Your domain?” Crymo said while standing up, staring into the darkness.
“The slums are my domain and I rule them as their lord has abandoned them!” The Preacher shouted, his voice seemed to come from all over the house.
“He sent me.” Crymo said bluntly, not moving an inch, the ice slowly thawed of the timber behind him.
“You and him are powerless here! The people fear me and my power! You or your Baron can't stop me! No one can!”
Crymo laughed, at first it was a quiet laugh, but it grew more and more. “You think that scaring stupid peasants makes you powerful, you foolish little man!”
The preacher jumped out of the darkness, with a huge knife in his hand, Crymo first noticed then that he lacked eyes. He quickly jumped to the side and kicked the preacher while they were both still in the air, sending them in different directions down a hallway. Crymo rolled on his side and straight back to his feet while the preacher hit a wall and from there hit the floor. “I implore you to reconcider your position.” Crymo said, grinning.
“Fuck you, vengence boy. I can see into your heart, I know all about your agenda… And your woman.” The preacher looked at Crymo, his empty eye sockets drilling into Crymo's skull, unearthing secrets. Crymo sprinted forward and leapt, bringing his foot up to stomp the preacher in the face. He brought up the knife and rolled away, slicing his leg. Blood gushed out and Crymo rolled into a rotten door, smashing it open. He blanked out for a moment, a moment the preacher used to stand up and stalk towards him, with the bloody knife hanging in the air. “Fall!” Crymo yelled as his fist slammed into the earth, ice sprouted like a flower in a five meter radius around him. The Preacher managed to stop in time to avoid falling down and Crymo used the opening to push himself from sight.
The ice thawed, and the preacher jumped in with a mad grin on his face. Crymo stood in front of a gaping hole into the basement. “You still running away mister Vengence?”
Crymo looked up from the hole and at the preacher “I won't need to now. Welcome to my domain.” He struck a pose, imitating a javelin thrower, tossing his javelin towards the preacher. A large ice spike rose from underneath the floor and impaled him. The floor gave in and he fell with the ice into the water.
Crymo followed. There was no light there. Only the sound of water. Crymo stood there still as a gargoyle, listening for an unusual splash. He only heard the laughter of the preacher. “You think death will stop me!? I mock you and your woman's death, wizard!”
Crymo's eyes froze, a thin layer of ice formed over them as his hands dove into the water sending spikes and spikes of ice from him in the direction, shredding the Preacher into tiny pieces until nothing remained except a head hanging on a frozen disc. His fury passed and sorrow kicked in. He closed his eyes and wept crystallized tears as memories of another head on another disc filled his mind.