Noble Arcana

Blue boots is a colloquial term. All Union members that have reached beyond the status of Journeyman receive a pair of fine blue boots. All inquisitors are blue boots, so the two are often conflated since that’s most of what the average citizen sees.

Head Inquisitor Cyrus Feln

The orb of blood expanded until the blood was so thin one could actually see through it. Then it all condensed back into a sphere. Then the orb became another half-dozen orbs and those orbs grew spikes. Finally, he brought them all back to himself and had them orbit around him, the speed of them increasing more and more until they were a blur all around him. Sweat was heavy on his brow as he maintained his concentration, pouring more and more mana into the blood in order to maintain control of the complex movements. When he felt his mana starting to reach its end he had all of it separate and carefully re-enter the vials he’d prepared.

He was panting heavily and returned his attention to his mana. It had taken nearly the full week, but he’d managed to near completely drain his mana. James had sent him an additional message with a warning that the Blue Boot Inquisitor would be arriving along with the surveyors and prospectors. As he still hadn’t received the item he commissioned from the Knight of Pentacles, draining all of his mana to avoid detection was his only option. He covered his eyes with a thick cloth and began casting light spells, maximizing the mana expenditure each time. Gust or Spark would likely drain it more quickly, but he didn’t want to damage anything in the study.

He cast until he felt the last drop of mana expend, slowly removed his hand from his face and removed the cloth from his eyes. He felt…empty. Less vital. There was an incredibly slow trickle of mana returning, but he could only barely sense it on the edge of his perception. He stood up and walked to the desk, sitting and taking several deep breaths. Once he’d gotten the warning he’d needed to spend nearly all of his time casting in order to reach this point. He’d been unable to explore the repository, study the demonic summoning spell, or review his uncle’s journals.

He’d done his best to ensure that his time wasn’t wasted, of course. He’d practiced casting two spells at once, improved his magical control over blood, and experimented more with each of the spells he’d had now that his mana was under control. He felt as if he’d improved in nearly every aspect as a spellcaster. He didn’t even need the focus his uncle’s walking stick provided. He still favored it, but that was more a matter of comfort and style.

He pushed himself to his feet, taking a moment to clean up with the small basin of water he kept below and to reapply some of his perfume. Once he felt acceptable he gave a salute to his six homunculi and made his way out of the study. It was nearly time to go meet the surveyors and pretend to be surprised that the blue boot was among them.

He found Melissa already waiting for him in the atrium. She pushed open the door for him and they walked out to the carriage where Duncan was waiting, his apprentice Regis behind him with the covered wagon.

He got into the carriage and once Melissa was settled he tapped the front window twice for Duncan to start it forward. It didn’t take long for them to reach the edge of town. In the distance a large wagon was being drawn steadily forward. Solomon could see the slightest glow of mana coming from it.

As it got closer he started to be able to make the wagon’s occupants out. There were four in suits of brown or black, and with them were men dressed more casually, carrying packs of gear. In the back of the wagon, seated away from all of them was a woman wearing a doublet and pants with a cloak over her shoulder, a clasp in the shape of chain-link. She was large for a woman, with silver eyes and broad shoulders. Her hair had streaks of gray throughout though she didn’t look older than thirty. As he’d suspected, she was the source of the mana he was seeing.

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Solomon didn’t hide his curious stare at her. He wasn’t meant to know who she was. As the carriage rolled forward, one of the men in the finer suits stepped off ahead of the others. He was a portly fellow, with a pronounced bald spot and deep brown eyes. He bowed, showing surprising grace in spite of his size.

“Derry Hammich at your service Lord Morrow. My boys and I are with Iron Pick.”

Solomon held out a hand and he took it in a firm, but not too firm, shake.

“Good to meet you,” he said.

Behind him came three other men who were staring with distaste at the back of Mr. Hammich’s head. They did their bows then approached.

“Ben Marlow, the Drakthiss Mining Consortium,” said a man with long dark hair wearing a black suit.

“Klein Satyr, Kynd Extractions,” said a man with short dark hair and round spectacles. His company had both logging and mineral extraction operations.

“Jules Tan, Lockwood Logging,” said the last man, a short gentleman with blonde hair that almost hid the ever so slight point to his ears. His hand lingered a bit longer in the handshake than the others.

Solomon took the time to shake each man’s hand before turning his attention to the blue boot.

“You must be the Inquisitor I requested,” he said as he moved toward her, holding out a hand. “I appreciate your swift arrival.”

She nodded and shook his hand. “Seeker Song.”

He felt a momentary spark, but didn’t let it show on his face.

“Based on the information you and the Etling guard provided, it warrants investigation.” She looked him over with a frown, her silver eyes seeming to bore into him.

“Of course. I was going to have these men ride into town in my carriage with me. It would be a tight squeeze, but would you care to ride with us?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ll ride in the other wagon. I’d like to get a feel for the town.”

“As you wish,” he said, smiling. He gestured for the other men to follow him into the carriage, finding that with Derry it was going to be a tight squeeze no matter what.

“So, how was the trip?” He asked.

“Quite fair,” remarked Ben.

“Quite dull, " responded Derry. “One side was trees and on the other side… more trees.”

Solomon smiled. “Well hopefully you’ll find Moonfallow to be a bit more to your liking.”

Two of the men exchanged a look of doubt and he pretended to ignore it as he looked out the window. Solomon pointed out the roadwork, sure to emphasize the hard work of the locals, and gave a brief rundown of the distances to the mine and logging sites. When they arrived at the church, which sat in the center of town, they disembarked, gesturing across the street.

“I have arranged for lodging at that row of homes there. They are unoccupied, but have been stocked with fresh water, food, and other amenities for you and your men. In the morning a trapper by the name of Colm will escort you to the logging site and mines. I hope to have you each over for dinner at my estate at some point as well. My people will be in touch. If you find yourself bored in the meantime there is a small row of shops just three streets that way. The bookseller in particular is quite excellent.”

They gave him nods in acknowledgement and moved toward the row of homes. They seemed tired from a long day of riding and many of them had come from even further than Etling.

None had offended him so far, though it seemed clear that Derry was the most eager to work with him, likely due to the influence of Priscilla. The man was boorish, but he also seemed sincere. Of course, he cared more about the results of what they found and what offers they found than whether or not he personally liked them… though it was a factor.

Solomon moved back into the carriage, leaning heavily against the cushioned seat and placing a hand over his face. His mind felt sluggish and his body heavy. He had gotten through the basic discussion with the inspectors, but even that had been an immense drag on him. Exhausting his mana seemed to have had a tremendous impact on him physically that he hadn’t expected. He started to take a deep breath when he heard a hard knock on the door to the carriage, forcing him to quickly exhale. He took a moment to calm his irritation before opening the door.

At the door was Seeker Song.

“Seeker Song, what is it?” he asked, finding his patience more easily now that the stakes were clear.

“I need to interview you regarding what happened. Now seems to be a good time.”

“Very well. Would you like to do it in my carriage, or would you prefer we get a room from the Watch up the road?”

“Here is fine,” she said, climbing in without awaiting a response.

“Excellent,” he lied, leaning back into his seat.

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