Hazards of the Job (Fiction)

This is a little piece that I thre together to try and get rid of the writers block, so incoherent and messy it may be, but it's hard to do this when your brain doesn't want to play.

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Hazards of the Job

Damien Ambrosius Caledonensis McCain, High Marshall of the Grey Council, grappled with the Majiesa daemon, both using thier supernatural abilities to keep the other off balance. The High Marshall tore free his huge right hand and formed a ball of ice smashing it against the face of the daemon, who let him go squealing in agony.

"That's what you get when you mess with me." He said, in his thick Scottish brogue, with a grin, throwing the pair of ice shards in his hands, piercing the heart and the head of the daemon, killing the demagogue human that it had inhabited, sending it back to the daemon realms. "Well, that was fun."

"Ah, the work of a Sheriff is never done is it." A figure said from the shadows of the alleyway. "That was but one of my many minions and eventually I will destroy you."

"Oh, really, let me see how much I'm shaking in my boots." He chuckled looking down and his size sixteen boots from the top of his six foot six frame. "Nope, nothin whatsoever."

"You dare insult Temorican the Terror?" The figure's voice began to tremble.

"Really kid, you need to get a better name." Damien said with a snicker. "My new born son could come up with a better one than that."

"I am the greatest terror of the nine pits of hell...." 

"Yeah, there are fifteen pits of hell, not nine, you've been reading too many fantasy and horror books kid, if you were a real power you would know that." Damien snorted and walked towards the alley exit. The figure jumped from the shadows in front of him, he was a foot shorter than Damien, and half his age and weight, in a purely physical confrontation the boy would get beaten to a pulp if he didn't get killed. "Seriously, come on I don't want to hurt you."

"I am the one going to be doing the hurting." The boy said, throwing a fireball at the Marshall, which bounced harmlessly off of his energy shield.

"Really, you really want to throw down?" Damien said with a shake of his head. "Fine, I'll throw down."

"Come meet your doom." The young man said with a snarl, as he moved and slipped on a banana peel as Damien unleashed a bolt of magical energy, exploding his shield and burning the boy's first layer of skin off. "Stop, stop, I yield."

"Boy, you just attacked the High Marshall of the Grey Council, a Wizard of the 1st order no less." Damien growled at him, as he grabbed the boy by the collar and slapped his cuffs on the skinny arms, pulling the teenager towards the alley mouth. "You are going to the cells at Caerleon and you will be found guilty."

"What are you talking about?" The boy said with a whimper.

"I am the leader of the Sheriff's kid, I'm the guy you don't want to be messing with." The Scotsman replied as they got to the mouth of the alley. "You mess with one of us and you best be willing to deal with the consequences Caerleon is the home of the Grey Council, where Merlin started it all, we hold prisoners there awaiting trial for acts that break the laws of magic, don't worry you didn't break any of the Primary Laws, so your ass isn't grass but you're not going to be seeing the light of day anytime soon."

"But, but..." The boy started to whine, but stopped with a whimper.

"So pitiful." Damien said as he dragged the boy towards the portal to Alfhiem, and the leylines which would take them quickly to Wales and the council gaol. The portal itself was covered by four figures and the Marshall sighed, taking his cuff key from his pocket. "Kid, it is your very lucky day, I'm going to let you off with a warning, I'm not going to be responsible for your life if I have to fight a quad of Thenrdak."

"I won't argue with that." The boy said with a nod, and hopped off to let the Damien deal with the underworld's assassin daemons. 

"So, what do you turds want?"

"By the order of the Black Hand, we have been charged with your end." The leader of the hulking, reptilian beings, their skin cracked and oozing lava, informed him. The Black Hand where the Dark ones analogue to the Neutral Grey Council.

"Oh, really, well you're welcome to try." He said with a snort, he formed a pair of iceballs in his hands and launched them at the nearest of his foes. The creature wailed with pain as the water melted on it's skin, many daemons anathema being water. The rest of the quad moved swiftly to surround the Wizard. "Just four of you, really, I thought I would merit more than a single quad."

"Our masters do not rate you, despite your position as a Wizard of the 1st order." The leader replied as he lunged at Damien, the Marshall redirected his shields energy to let the thing's rebound off of it and go flying into a car, crushing it. A second came at him from the opposite side and he blocked it with the bracer of Iron on his arm. He threw his power to the sewer and the filthy water from below exploded through the manhole the creature had stepped onto, engulfing it in the stink but killing it none the less. The two Thenrdak had distracted him enough that the remaining one managed to score it's blade across his right side, but it was just a glancing blow. The Wizard's staff of office appeared in his hand and from it shot a rush of water, engulfing the daemon that had caught him and the leader in a wave.

Damien breathed a sigh of relief as he headed towards the Alfhiem entrance when his mobile phone went off, he pulled it from his pocket and answered it without seeing who it was.

"Damien McCain." He answered chirpily, then realised it was his wife. "Oh, hello Fang, what's wrong.... no.... I'm working... well killing daemons and chasing down dastardly wrong doers.... No I did not forget the milk it's at the office, where I am headed right now... No, I promise... I promise, I'm right at the entrance to the Alfhiem right now, I'll be in Caerleon in half an hour and I'll be home in an hour and fourty-five. I promise, no more trouble tonight, straight to the office to pick up the milk then straight home.. yes, dear." He cut the call off and headed through the entrance to the lands of the Fae. As he stepped out he was confronted by a troop of Kilneir, spiderlegged humanoids with a nasty streak a mile wide, and even though he was an emissary of those of neutral allignment, the Kilneir followed the court of Winter and it's chaotic nature. "Here we go again."

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Hope you enjoyed that little read, took a bit of time but I've got the old creative juices flowing again, even missing the second half of the football because of it.

If you haven't already got a copy of it Strange Tales of the Scriptorian vault is available on Kindle right now, I think it should be up on Smashwords now or very soon and when the paper copy is on it's way, all the profits goes to charity so please buy it.