Smelting of Iron

A cold breeze pushed up through the cobblestone streets of the lower tiers around buildings built of brick and wood. Fetched roofs risking fires from any unattended stove.

Rich nobility living in opulence high above, in stone fortifications. Linked together to form a single massive castle that sat at the center of the city. While the less fortunate lived in ever degrading homes. The quality of each dipping to little more than wooden shacks the closer to the city gates one got.

Zyom had traveled far from the markets within the mid-tiers where the orb lamps lit every corner to bring the elven girl here. One of the few, if not the only, well-kept house left within the lowest of the city's tiers.

A mansion. Built of brick and iron. Gloomy in appearance with a roof made of metal sheets and walls of vine-covered stone. Held together with mortar and framed by thick wooden beams. Enclosed behind a fence of high iron bars.

A garden of exotic flowers and trees hidden behind a wall of shrubbery shoulder high. Broken only by a single gate that gave way to a path leading to a dark wooden door.

Home to a recluse, but perhaps the only person Zyom could trust to do what came next.

Break the chains that held this girl in slavery.

~~~

The gates, enchanted with Rune magic swung open upon his approach giving Zyom and his unconscious companion passage into the garden beyond and closed upon their entrance.

Magical lights flickered to life guiding the way forward. Large orbs of a smokey crystal, glowed faintly hovered just above or rested within patches of flowers and grass. Shadows flickered as if cast by flames illuminating the way forward. To the touch, they were cold as ice yet the light they gave was warm and inviting.

Each orb enchanted to ignite into life as anyone passed them. Unlike those that lit the streets behind, these only gave light when required. It conserved their longevity and gave an air of foreboding to the unexpecting.

Once at the door he knew he had no reason to knock. The man within was already well aware of his presence. He'd yet to figure out by what means Magnius used to know when he had guests but assumed it was tied somehow into how the lights knew when to ignite. Magnius kept such details hidden, probably for good reason.

It wouldn't take long before the door swung open and in the doorway stood an Ogre with splotchy skin. Vitiligo, marking his body with patches of green, gray, and brown. The Orge was massive and heavily armed. His armor, though missing now, was scarred and rusted, battle-tested. A bodyguard. A mercenary. A friend.

"Do you idea the time, Zyom?" The beast grunted scratching at his balding scalp with a gruff yawn. Clawed, rough, thick fingers. His muscles, covered in scars, stretched and betrayed his now gentle nature. He looked able to rip a man in half with his bare hands alone.

He wore a tunic of heavy dragonhide leather. His eyes, crimson red, yet gentle and soft. His voice boomed with authority and a bloodlust long since sated. This was a man who'd spend years in battle. Bathed in blood. Retired in glory.

Catching sight of the elven girl cradled in Zyom's arms he leaned forward, sniffing at the air before pulling away. "Kollagoth I need to speak with Magnius." Zyom answered, shifting the girl's weight. His arm's tiring from the prolonged strain of carrying her.

She'd yet to wake or even move. A single short horn prodding at his shoulder had made the effort tortuous. It's sharp-pointed tip stabbing and scratching his flesh through his robes. Her breathing had steadied as sleep took its stranglehold on her. She was at the mercy of those around her. But she was in good hands.

"I'll fetch. Put her on couch." The bestial man replied, moving aside and allowing Zyom entry.

~~~

"My lord, Zyom request's you." The Ogre remarked passing the studies doorway on his way back to bed having left Zyom and Silf at the front door. There was no need for him to remain awake, at least in his mind.

"Great more interruptions," The Scribe remarked, pushing himself up from his work. His voice was cold, unmoved, uncaring. Yet this was a man who's actions had provoked thought, and action. This man was a Chain breaker. A slaver saver. The bane of nobility. This was a man as powerful as he was feared and revered.

Magnius was a man of average height and build. Deep rich brown wavy hair, cut short just below the ears. A suit and tie plastered over a white shirt. A coat hung over his shoulder like a cloak. A single armoured glove with ornate braided edging covered his left hand with an accompanying set of layered armour platings on the left shoulder and right hip.

An unusual look for an unusual man.

"Do you have any idea what time it is Zyom? What the bloody hell would compel you to come bother me at this ungodly hour" Magnius barked.

The living room was small compared to many of the other rooms here. Unused and poorly light. A single couch set against a wall surrounded on all sides by artifacts of magical descent.

Zyom had laid the girl down, propping her head on a pillow. The elven man loomed over her. Using a wet rag taken from the nearby kitchen to clean dried blood from around her face steadily revealing a collection of flesh wounds. Magnius froze at the sight. This was nothing new to him but it never got any easier to see.

"What happened?" He asked calmly, coming to inspect the girl. She was rather young. Or so he assumed. Elves were naturally long-lived so she could very well be twice his age but he doubted that much. She was much too small, he thought.

"Long story," Zyom replied, setting the damp cloth across the girl's forehead.

Magnius sighed. "I suddenly have plenty of time.

Zyom stood aside as Magnius pulled a blade from thin air and pressed it against the inside of the collar, careful not to cut her in the process of trying to free it from around her throat. She was frail. He risked a single cut more being the end of her.

The blade sparked as he pulled it tight to the leather as if pressed to a grinder as he pulled the edge across its length, but beyond that ... nothing, not even a nick in the leather.

Pulling the blade away he realized the edge had been dulled and scared. "Interesting." The man muttered, looking the blade over and then back at the girl.

Slave collars were often enchanted for protection against damage and natural wear over time but his blade was enchanted to counter such spells. To have it not only rebuked but damaged?

He already knew why Zyom had brought her to him. He was well known for liberating slaves when given the chance. He couldn't simply go around and free every slave he encountered but those brought to him by their owners, he could. He would!

Zyom wouldn't have brought her here had he not taken ownership too. "That's never happened before?" Zyom commented, lifting the blade from the mage's hand and turning it over on his own. "No. So about that story?" Magnius said to his friend .

"So, what now?" Zyom asked after having recounted how he came into the possession of the elven girl. Magnius didn't answer right away. He was sitting in an old wooden chair pulled from the kitchen. Leaning over with a fist pressed to his chin deep in thought as he watched the girl sleep.

They'd finished cleaning the blood away from her face and arms and bandaged a gash across her forehead. It would probably need stitches but no one willing to tend to a slave would be available this late at night.