Shackled City: Ruce Blackwind: Bio [3/3]

"DRUDGE! Wine!"

A short pause. Then Ruce appeared at the kitchen doorway carrying a tray with a pitcher and 3 goblets. He set it in front of the 2 elves and then stepped back, waiting.

The orange robed elf gestured to his companion, who was clothed in green, fair skinned and had half of his head shaved smooth of it's long blond hair. "This is Koud'm'rev. He is the newest pupil at Blue Crater Acadamy. Tell him who you are."

"I am Ruce Blackwind." Ruce made a small bow to the new elf.

"Now tell him what you are."

Ruce paused and looked confused. "I - I am clearly human, prefect."

The orange robed elf frowned. "Playing stupid will earn you a fast demonstration of what you are, human!"

"Yes, prefect."

"He's a spell target. Like Clax and Puckernuts down in the baths."

The new elf looked shocked. "Him? … you use him? As a target?"

"When he's not serving food or cleaning up in here, sure! Transmutation, evocation, and necromancy spells. He's most vulnerable to those schools."

"But - but shouldn't he be chained? The others were chained."

"Blackwind here doesn't manage well with chains. Go a bit nutty don't you? Don't like fire either!" The prefect flicked his fingers at Ruce, igniting a trio of tiny illusory flames that danced around the boy's head, then gave a huge laugh as Ruce swatted wildly at them.

"Fire! Now I remember!" the other elf said. "I knew the name Blackwind sounded familiar. The Blackwind inferno 2 years ago. Stinking cloud from that blaze covered almost half the city for days."

"Indeed." The prefect poured himself a cup of wine. "Only 3 survivors: street urchins who had been chained up in the stables. So, low enough to avoid the blast from whatever it was in those wagons that exploded, and insane enough to chew their own thumbs off to get free. And now this one is lucky enough to have a home here, letting us bounce spells off his head. Right, human?"

"All the more reason to keep him locked up so he won't run?" The new elf eyed Ruce critically.

"Nahhhh." The prefect took a long gulp then slammed the goblet down on the table and snapped for Ruce to refill it. "He's got the Fireball Collar on. He's magically forbidden to leave the building, or…. BOOM!… heheheh. Still… nobody takes a magic missile to the chest like this guy! It teaches the neophytes how to cast one, and helps the more experienced pupils blow off steam when they're bored. Heheh… The runt has probably lost count of how many times he's been knocked out by one of those, eh?"

"One hundred twenty four, prefect."

The orange robed elf paused in mid-drink and set his goblet slowly on the table. "What did you say?"

"124 magic missile hits, prefect. Although… only 108 of them knocked me out."

"Liar. You LIE!" The elf stood, scowling furiously.

"Sixty five of those hits were yours, prefect. Seems you are the only one who uses me to 'blow off steam.' Maybe you should try a different way to ~"

"COLORSPRAY!"

A wave of neon lights slammed into the young human, careening him backwards over a chair to lie motionless on the floor.

"Bastard punk! When you wake up, see how you like serving blind for the rest of the morning. How's THAT for  different!"

It was quiet for a moment, then the new elf cleared his throat. "Uh, it's certainly not for me to question things here, You …uh… clearly have a strong control of discipline. But isn't a fireball collar a bit extreme? I mean… what a waste of a high powered item on such a … uh…"

The prefect jerked around to stare at the new pupil, then snorted a laugh. "Pffft. That? It's a damned dog collar! A little suggestion spell when he arrived… a little illusion of an exploding piglet wearing the same collar. Poof. Instant willing slave. He'll NEVER leave." He grabbed the wine pitcher off the table and put his arm around the other elf, walking him out. "Come, I'll show you the library. There are some books of goblin porn in there that are hilarious!"

Silence returned to the dining hall. After a minute or two, Ruce opened his eyes and looked around. Seeing no one, he stood and took the tray of goblets back to the pantry. Then he grabbed a silver serving tray and a butcher knife.  

"Colorspray. Illusion. Should have used that on Pokinoi down in the baths. I don't have a weakness against illusions. And colorspray… prefect..."

He set the tray up on it's side to use as a mirror. "…only knocks you out if you're weak to it."

He held the knife up to his collar.