Mage-Hunter.

A Story by Jonathan

I had an idea for a story, this part just sprang to mind.

"There's a power to blood, a twisted siren call to all mages, an' when they think they're going to die, well, the Guild's rules fly out the window. There's a reason most mage-hunters carry blunt weapons; maces, staves and the like, and that's because one mage alone, though dangerous, is nothing compared to a blood magicker. A rogue healer might be able to disable a man or two before succumbing to superior numbers, but put blood magic into that mix, and numbers don't mean a damn thing. Blood magic twists every mage different, but generally speakin', a healer'll turn to a plague witch, who are right b******s to get, cos they can liquefy your organs just by touchin' a man. Other mages turn to different things, an' the worst o' the bunch are battle mages, folk who'd normally be right by generals an' kings, tellin' them about "combat-readiness" and that crap, but when one o' them succumbs to the lure o' blood magic, they turn inta what we call blood-golems. Big b*****d, damn hard to even dent the skin, and the more o' us he kills, the stronger 'e gets. When we get word o' a rogue battle mage, we turn to the one bloke who can 'elp us: the only blood mage who kept 'is mind after 'e changed, an' I 'eard that was cos he'd been taught as a lad 'ow to control blood-magic, 'ow to not let the magic pull the strings. Big man, nice enough bloke, I suppose, but still got some funny ways left from when 'e lived among those savages on the Plains of Uthgar."

Excerpt from the book "Mage-Hunters and their traditions" by Sir Enjolais Herros

When I was a young child, I was raised by the Wolf Clan, one of many tribes amongst the Plains-Folk. I was born, son of the chief of the tribe, and at birth I was declared a warrior of the tribe, as I had been born with magic. I learnt later in life that the Plains-Folk had naturally weaker mages, but that those mages were far more numerous than within the Empire. I was an aberration to that rule, as I was extremely strong within my limited field of battle magic; able to easily best 5 or 6 other soldiers, but unable to defeat a neophyte mage with magic alone. That led my father to summon his garisho, his stalker of men and animals, and order him to teach me the ways of the garisho, as if I could not fight on the field of battle, I could still fight behind the enemy clans lines.