Mousesack's home was a large mansion in the heart of the city. Vast swathes of tall trees hid the place from sight and rows of blooming flowers lined every path, the floral scent was heavy in the air.
"Typical druids, always longing for the forest even when they're in the city. He'd rather spend all day talking to a squirrel than his own bleedin' kind." Radkin remarked, picking a piece of green from between his teeth and flicking onto a rose's petals.
"Radkin? Is that you, I thought you only listened to that thing between your legs? Have you changed? Finally come to appreciate the delicate scent of cherry blossom? I know that nose of yours is as sharp as a hound's!" A hearty voice called out.
The trees rustled and a figure emerged. His long beard drew attention immediately. The corner's of his eyes crinkled as he smiled widely in greeting. His irises were bright blue and twinkled like stars. It was clear at first glance that he was far from ordinary.
"Mousesack you bastard, you'd rather fuck a tree than spend a night with a woman! What do you know of the thing that hangs between your legs?" Radkin retorted fiercely.
The two men strode towards one another with bounding strides. Then with a muffled collision of bodies they embraced. Radkin was first to pull away with a coy smile on his face, "You've gotten fatter Mousesack, too many acorns."
Mousesack laughed and shook his head, "Your tongue is as sharp as your blade old friend."
He turned to look at me with a gentle smile. A hand was stretched out to me, ornate rings adorning every finger. I noted that it was wood not silver that held the gemstones. Mousesack's druidic nature was embodied even in his accessories.
"Any friend of Radkin's is a friend of mine. Tell me, my new companion, how should I address you?" Mousesack said warmly. Our hands met and he gripped mine firmly.
"Jack, an apprentice under Radkin, it is a pleasure to make your acquiantance."
Mousesack released my hand and clapped his palms together jubilantly, "Ah how well you speak! No foul-mouthery or talk of women's behinds! How refreshing!"
At the end of his sentence his gaze pointedly fell upon Radkin.
The disgruntled witcher scoffed and spat, "Two scholars looking down on a common pleb aye'? You are the fools who deny the cravings of your bodies, one who prefers yew and oak to breasts and another who hasn't even held a lady's hands! Truly you scholars have much to boast about!"
The insult rolled off Mousesack's back. His smile only widened. With a flourish of his hand he turned and strode into the orchard of pear trees. Within a dozen paces his figure had dissapeared entirely. I could neither see him nor hear his heartbeat. Magic.
A gust of wind blew suddenly, carrying a familiar and hearty voice that sounded in all directions, "Come, come! I have tea, the finest you'll ever taste!"
Radkin snorted and swaggered into the forest. His medallion, which had been vibrating since we stepped onto the mansion's grounds, intensfied its tremors.
I followed after him into the dense trees. After a single step the noises of the city faded into nothingness. All that remained was the rustling of leaves and branches. I took another step. The air was thick with magic. The trees seemed to suddenly grow taller, their crowns stretching into the clouds. I was an ant walking through a giant's forest.
"Illusions. A word of advice to you little bird, never try to fight a sorcerer on their turf. Mousesack's an amicable chap, his enchantments won't do anything more than confuse your mind. Druids are generally a peaceful bunch. But, step into the den of a mage who wishes you ill and he'll ensnare your mind in paradise until your heart stops from hunger or thirst. Around magic we must always remain vigilant." Radkin's tone lacked it's usual playfullness. Amidst the towering trees he was nowhere to be seen. From the sound of his voice I judged that he was only a few steps away. The illusion was of high quality.
"Sorry about that, a little protection you see. Occasionally those oafish rogues in the city think to snatch away the belongings of a wealthy mage. The illusions sees fit that they do not come again. Fools, the lot of them." Mousesack apologised. On the hundreth pace his figure reappeared and the towering trees were replaced by an ordinary pear grove once more.
He beckoned us on with a gesture of his hand. An ornate wooden table grew from the earth. The roots shifted and coiled freely, as if possessing consciousness of their own. Three teacups rested on the table. Fragrant steam drifted up from each one. Fruits from faraway lands that had previously been known to me only by illustration and description balanced in abundance on a large wooden platter.
"Come, come, sit! Chairs at once for our guests!" Mousesack exclaimed cheerily.
The earth rumbled. Then, in an instant, roots burst forth in a shower of soil and stones. They curved and twisted like snakes, growing at incomprehensible speed. Within moments three chairs took shape.
Radkin huffed and seated himself, muttering under his breath, "Bloody show off."
The chair was a strange thing. Beneath me the wood occasionally rose or fell, as if dictated by the earth's whims. Mousesack picked up his teacup and swallowed thirstily. He shortly finished the cup and placed it back down with a satisfied sigh.
The medallion against my neck quivered. A trickle of amber liquid appeared at the bottom of the cup. Then, with a gurgle, as if liquid was being poured in by some invisible teapot, the amber began to rise. The liquid rose until it touched the brim of the cup and almost overflowed. As if sensing it's mistake, the liquid gurgled and receded half an inch.
I brought my cup to my lips. A heady and fruity aroma rushed into my nostrils. The scents were countless; pear, apple, rose, blueberry. All of them intertwining in a giddy rush of delight. The first sip was ecstacy. Flavours deeper and richer than I thought possible danced on my tastebuds. I drank greedily, taking great gulps that emptied the cup in mere moments.
Anticipation gripped me. I placed the cup down on the table. For a moment it was still. Then it began to gurgle, amber liquid climbed hurriedly up the edges. It was full once more. Without hesitation I raised it to my lips and drank eagerly.
"I never realised your thirst was so great?" Radkin said with a smirk.
His mocking was easily ignored. I turned to Mousesack, a pleased smile was spread across his lips, "Incredible, I've never tasted something so delicious."
The druid's smile widened, he slapped the table happily, "You see Radkin! Someone who appreciates the delights that the earth has to offer! Your cup is full of the beer you so desperately lust after, do you not see how flavourful the tea is, perhaps you might finally taste it?"
Radkin raised his cup. Without pausing he downed the contents. He placed it down and wiped his lips. Then, he erupted into a loud belch. The smell of malt was heavy on his breath. He sat smirking, clearly delighted with himself.
Mousesack sighed and shook his head, lamenting Radkin's stubborn refusal to taste the creation he was most proud of, "Very well, sip your beer. You do deserve at least this kindness. Perhaps in a century or two your pallete might expand."
He tapped the table and tilted his head slightly. He looked at Radkin with a curious expression, "You know you are always welcome as my guest, your gruffness hides a kind heart. But...-"
Mousesack's eyes narrowed, an inquisitive smile tugged at his lips, "-you don't often stop by to say hello. Mind you, I would be delighted if you did. But no, you're here, there must be a reason? Tell me, what brings you to my home in this city?"
Radkin regarded him impassively. The two men, a witcher and a druid locked eyes. Stretching his arms skywards, Radkin yawned. He began whistling a lively tune and reached into the satchel drawn across his chest.
A strange object was placed down heavily on the table.
Mousesack leant forwards, inspecting the thing with professional methodicalness. He turned it this way and that in his hands, looking at it from every angle. Though it appeared strange, it was not surprising when he brought it to his mouth and licked it. His lips smacked together as he discerned the taste. His eyes were shut in concentration.
After a short while, his eyelids burst oped. His bright blue eyes twinkled in the sunlight, "Oh you clever fox! You've brought me something good! Myriapod, a hefty one by the size of this carapace! Do you have the rest of it, you know I always give a generous price?"
His head swivelled towards me. His excitement shifted into a more gentle enthusiasm. He explained kindly, "Magic is a secretive affair Jack, even I am bound by a strict code. You've perhaps learnt from your books and your elder's guidance how valuable a dragon's heart or griffin's feathers can be. But I doubt you know of the incantations or recipes that demand them. "
"Chaos does not give freely, spells and elixirs require sacrifice. The forces that govern this world must be appeased else they snatch away a mage's soul. The beast you slew is worth five hundred oren, I know a dozen potions that call for it. Find a sorcerer in desperate enough need and you might be offered double that."
Mousesack's advice offered a little insight into the world in which sorcerer's lived. They were far removed from the affairs of common people.
"Five hundred is a fair price. Throw in a cask of this beer you so reluctantly brew and the carapace and the eyes and other bits are all yours." Radkin said while stroking his chin. His eyes were bright at the thought of enriching his purse once more.
Mousesack sighed. It was becoming apparent that he did so often in Radkin's company, "I'll give you two, I'm sure you'll have quenched your thirst with the entirety of it before you leave the city walls."
Radkin grinned and pulled out a few more pieces of carapace from his satchel. A jar containing an insectoid eye suspended in green liquid was placed on the table also. He rose to his feet and snatched up his cup. He upturned the cup so the liquid poured into his mouth. He seemed to know the mechanisms that governed its refilling, and he shook it forcefully. Beer rushed force from the cup's base and he swallowed it with great gulps.
After a considerable time, when his stomach visibly began to bulge, he placed the cup back down. He looked reluctantly between it and his stomach. Then with a sigh he turned on his heel. He called out without looking back, "I'll bring the rest of the myriapod's things. Jack stay here and babysit an old fool will you? Knowing him he'll probably lecture you about something wise and profound."
From beyond the boundaries of the enchanted orchard, I watched him saunter through the trees. Ripe fruits dangled just above his head. He paid no heed to the illusion and plucked one carefreely. The pear's juices trickled down his chin and fell to the earth, moistening the soil.
Mousesack tapped the table to a melody I did not recognise. It was light and upbeat. It fitted his charecter well.
"Come Jack, let an old man give you a glimpse of something deserving of thought." Mousesack said, rising from his chair. He set off to the manor at a brisk pace. After a gulp or two more of the delicious tea I followed after him.
The huge doors, decorated with imagery of nymphs and forest spirits dancing amidst towering oaks, opened without need for touch. Mousesack waved his hand and they swung shut behind us.
The interior of the manor thrummed with magic. Saplings grew wildly and vines snaked across the ceilings, draping themselves languidly from crystal chandeliers. Within the druid's home, nature revelled and celebrated.
Mousesack led me through thickets of thorn bushes. The sharp pricks of the plants parted autonomously before him. Not a single one scratched my skin.
"Welcome to my laboratory Jack. The common people talk of sorcerers commanding lightning and hurling globes of fire, they never mention the decades of rigorous study and experiments." Mousesack said, his tone amused. He stopped before a huge set of shelves that stretched up to the ceiling.
Everywhere I looked, something begged for my attention. Organs preserved in colourful liquids, specimens of creatures unknown even to me, frozen forever in carefully arranged postures.
"This is..." I trailed off. I lacked the words to complete my sentence.
Mousesack nodded in understanding. He beckoned with his hand and a jar as tall as a child floated down from from a shelf high above. He held it with both hands, raising it to eye level.
A thing was suspended within. He twisted the jar and the object's nature was revealed. A pair of dull green eyes stared at me unblinkingly. Strands of long blonde hair drifted slowly in the yellowish liquid. Two sharp and pointed ears stuck out on either side of the face.
"Elves." Mousesack said. The singular word hung heavily in the air. The elf's head continued to stare out unblinkingly .
"We slaughtered them, by the thousands. Rivers ran red with elven blood, trees grew tall and proud, nourished by fluid that once gave a noble race life."
There was no cheer in his tone. He turned and looked me in the eyes. There was a sorrowfullness about him.
"I keep it as a reminder. To never allow myself to be so consumed by greed that I use my powers to harm. Magic should protect. It should guide and nurture. There are sorcerers who wield it as a blade."
His voice grew louder, "It is not a weapon! It's purpose is not to cleave or scorch!"
He fell silent. His presence diminshed suddenly. For a moment it felt as if I were standing before an unspeaking pine rather than a man.
Then his voice sounded again. This time it was soft, quiet, "My creed urges me to protect nature. Everything that is within my power to protect the forests and the creatures that dwell within, I must do. For my creed I would willingly lay down my life.
You must choose Jack. What creed do you abide by, and how much are you willing to lose to uphold it?"