did not return the sudden looks from his companions. “You were extolling the strategic properties of this city, Morland?”
“So I was,” Morland murmured. “Of this region, more accurately. This wart of a city just happens to be the nearest speck of civilization to the phenomenon. Are you aware that the greatest scholars among the nations are observing a marked drop in the world’s magical energies, of late?”
Amric and Halthak exchanged a blank look. Only Bellimar seemed unsurprised at the turn of the conversation.
“It is true,” Morland said. “It was gradual at first, a year or more ago, but in recent months it has accelerated. The most powerful sorcerers in all the lands are expressing concern as they can no longer draw on the same reservoirs of power they have in the past.”
“I fail to see the problem,” Amric said in a dry tone.
“Do not be a fool, boy,” the merchant snapped. “Magic is power, and our civilizations are in no small way built on that power. If this trend continues at its current rate, we face chaos and upheaval on a heretofore unseen scale.”
“There are many who theorize,” Bellimar said, his voice soft, “that magic is so intrinsic to life that, were that energy to ebb too low, our world would become a barren husk, devoid of life. Remember our discussion of auras, swordsman. Magic resonates with other magic, humming together like harmonic vibration, and we exist in accord with the energy that permeates our world. Not only will the fantastic creatures suffer from its loss. None of us would survive.”
Amric said nothing, unconvinced. A world with less magic, or no magic at all, sounded very much like an improvement to him. Morland, however, was nodding grudging approval.
“An educated man,” he said. “Furthermore, are you aware that this region is seeing an even more marked increase in magical energies, as they decline everywhere else? So much so that sorcerous endeavors in this area have become hazardous due to their unpredictability, their sheer instability. Imagine, if you will, lighting a candle only to have it blaze up and fill the room with flame. It is as if all the magical energies in the civilized lands are being drawn to this region.”
“Perhaps even,” Bellimar said, “all the magic in the world.”
Amric shifted, uncomfortable at the thought. “Why is this occurring?”
“No one knows,” Morland said, with another appraising look at Bellimar. “But it is also behind the swell of wealth here, in Keldrin’s Landing. The area was discovered to be rich in natural resources quickly enough after Keldrin first landed here. Now, however, the gems and minerals here are imbued with essence energies at a much higher rate than anywhere and anytime in recorded history. The nations have boundless appetites for such baubles: focus jewels to enhance rituals, magic alloys that never dull or cannot be pierced, and countless more. Those with mining rights, such as myself, were until recently making money as quickly as we could pull it from the ground.”
“Why no longer?” Amric asked.
“Our crews have fled their work sites, and many have departed the region entirely on the first ship that would have them. Chance or not––and I tend to think not––the meteoric rise in magic has coincided with a spreading contagion of dark creatures. We lost many workers, vanished or found torn limb from limb, and now no amount of promised wages is sufficient to coax them into performing their duties.”
Morland shook his head and sighed, and Amric ground his teeth. The merchant cared nothing for the loss of life, only his own profits.
“And thus,” said Bellimar, his tone wry, “the wealthy elite of Keldrin’s Landing found themselves at the golden spigot, now clogged, and put out a plea for assistance to the lands. Ample reward offered to any blades that would travel here and pit themselves against these creatures. Payment terms in arrears, naturally?”
“Spare me your moral arrogance, Bellimar,” the merchant sneered. “If you share anything with your namesake, you are on shifting sand of your own.”
Bellimar pressed on, his grin broad and predatory. “But times of strife call out to avarice, and one’s rivals can be so wonderfully vulnerable when all attention is facing outward. So the wealthy must fortify against each other, and continually more so as the armament continues; for every coin spent on the public defense, two go to outfit the estate. Stop me when you wish to resume the narrative yourself, Morland.”
“How does all this relate to my Sil’ath warriors?” Amric interrupted. “They