#battery mage

[eclecticboogaloo]

random plate mail doodles for my headworld protagonist. she's a knight and a battery mage. Ill prolly rant abt them later.

[hotdoghowitzer]

Sketch and finished vent art.

Battery Mage gon wreck shop, yo.

Hammer handles based on technical ice axe handles, can take the force of smashing and have the clearence to punch through plate with the back half.

[hotdoghowitzer]

Island of Souls

Snippet from my headworld. 

~~~~~~~~~~

It had been his home for the past 5 years. And now it was coming down around his ears. The Dwarven steel bulkheads creaked and groaned as the Hunley rolled and pitched on the open seas, Corjha grunting as he was thrown against the hull. He grabbed onto a support rib to prevent himself from being hurled the opposite direction as the u-boat was tossed violently by another wave. Corjha wiped sweat from his face and cursed, watching as a stream of seawater burbled down the walkway, toward the ever-growing pool in the aft section of the sub.  The pirates had caught Corjha off-guard; not that he’d had any prior experience with their type in the first place. He'd to bargain for supplies with what he thought was a whaling ship, but discovered that the harpoon guns mounted on the bow were just as effective on his masterpiece as they were on whales and sea serpents. The pirates hastily boarded the Hunley, and quarter of Corjha's hired crew were gutted and thrown overboard in the initial onslaught. After a fierce fight, Corjha managed to drive back his attackers, but not before they'd done significant damage to the sub and killed or severely injured his remaining crew. One of the harpoons had bounced harmlessly off of the Hunley's steel skin, only to snag on a handhold on the opposite side. But the other had punched through the hull near the sail. The hull breach meant that the Hunley could not dive to safety, especially once the barbed harpoon had been ripped back out in the escape. Corjha had worked the steam engines to the breaking point to outrun his attackers.  That was three days ago.  Corjha quickly looked at his compass and swore. He was off course with no crew to run the sub the last survivor having died only that morning. He had no idea where he was in relation to land, since his maps and star charts had disintegrated in the rapidly-rising seawater. The sensible thing to do would have been to abandon ship...but even that option gave minimal odds of survival. 

---------- Jean whipped around, staring out at the grey-green sea with her grey eyes as the wind whipped her short, straw-colored hair. Ironheart cocked his head and Half Stripe's round ears perked up. Neither one of them spoke. "There's…a mass of metal out there. Gods above, it's enormous..." Jean gasped. She held out a hand in the direction of the ping on her ever-present electromagnetic field and closed her eyes. She could see a staticky outline of a streamlined, vaguely fish-shaped object being tossed about on the sea. As the wind gusted and the object pitched foreword on its bow,bringing something else into focus. Jean concentrated, focusing on the smaller, bright spot that seemed to be moving around inside the object. It drifted out of the offshore currents and quickly closer to Jean, the image suddenly coming into focus. It was a craft of some sort, and there was a person scrambling around frantically inside it. In an instant, Jean had snapped into action. Her feet dug into the sand and her hands extended in front of her, her muscular, stout body straining as if someone were trying to drag her into the sea by her arms. She quickly *caged the inhabitant of the vessel and began to pull.

---------- 

Corjha swallowed the panic that has risen in his throat. He knew there was a storm blowing in by the grey, angry skies and wind that was tossing his boat around like a waterlogged cork. But when he'd been overcome by the sensation that bugs were crawling all over him inside his drenched coveralls, an unadulterated fear had gripped him. With the Hunley rolling about on the surface, and him standing ankle deep in highly conductive water, there would be no chance of avoiding the lightning. He made a mad dash up the steps and flew through the bulkhead before the sub yanked the footing out from under him and he fell flat on his face on the wet, wooden floor. As he looked up, he saw faint sparks dancing between the interior beams that reinforced the compartment. There was no flash of blinding light, or the crash of superheated air. He wiped blood out of his left eye and stared. He should be dead. Usually there was almost no time between the whole body tingling and the explosive discharge of white-hot electricity. The next thing he noticed was that the Hunley was no longer rolling about uncontrollably. All was unusually still. He slowly got to his feet and made his way cautiously to the hatch, small electric arcs jumping from surface to surface and curiously bending around him. The tingling had become uncomfortably intense, especially in his right foot, where a metal plate bound an arch that had been shattered in an accident during the Hunley's construction. He slowly climbed the ladder, poked his head outside, and gaped. 

At first, Jean had difficulty wrestling the craft through the rough seas. She'd pinged her surroundings and found a deposit of iron-rich rock deposit about fifty feet underground and quickly woven invisible magnetic cords around it. Using the iron as an anchor, Jean lifted the sub clear of the ocean and began to bring it towards the shore. Using the curious properties of magnetism to her advantage, she let the opposing poles attract one another while she concentrated on keeping the unusual metal boat aloft and level. Small, blue arcs jumped from the sub to the sea, and the sand around Jean's feet hovered motionlessly in a small cloud around her ankles. Half-Stripe and Ironheart watched with intense curiosity. This was the most they'd ever seen her move with her talents, and the effort it was taking was obvious. Jean strained, twitched and bared her teeth in a feral grin as she concentrated on her task. The boat was nearing the shore and she could see the occupant’s upper body sticking out of the small rectangular structure on the top. The craft had picked up considerable speed and continued to do so as the pull of magnetism grew exponentially stronger. As soon as the sub was over shallow enough water, Jean let go of her anchor and prepared to bring the craft in slowly. The Hunley seemed to slip from her grasp for a split second, the bow dropping to her left slightly, sending the person up top lurching foreword and head over heels out of the opening he'd been in. Luckily, he managed to catch himself before he fell overboard. Jean jerked as she managed to catch the boat and re-level it, but she was spent. She overcompensated and the craft’s tail seemed to slide backwards off of some invisible platform, the rest of the craft following. Luckily, the boat had come in low, only 6 feet or so above the water's surface. The surf broke its fall slightly, but the sudden drop sent the occupant up into the air. He hit the deck, bounced ever so slightly and slid into the water. 

----------

Corjha was awed. His boat was flying toward the shore of an unknown island, electricity crackling and buzzing all around him. He could see someone on the beach, and two more, further back. A solid rock cliff backed the cove, with dense forest up top. He took a few steps up on the ladder and allowed himself a faint smile. Suddenly his boat lurched forward. He scrambled for a handhold and managed to stop himself from falling off of the boat completely, but before he could get back to the hatch, the Hunley lurched the opposite direction and dropped completely out from under him. For a few terrifying seconds, he was airborne. He came down hard, a hollow metallic sound echoing inside his head as his skull impacted the hull. Unconscious, he slid helplessly into the sea. 

---------

Ironheart, ditching his disguise of a human monk, plowed into the water at full tilt, sending curtains of spray off to either side. The golem disappeared into the surf and soon located the unconscious submariner in ten feet of water. He held the man aloft until the water was at his waist, then he slung him over his shoulder before he waded back to where Half-Stripe was waiting. He flung Corjha down in the sand and let the fussing Kenduu Halfling begin her work administering first aid. After a few tense moments, the healer motioned for the Battery Mage with her furry, mitt-like hand. 

"Jean! Give 'im some juice!!" She said urgently. Jean hefted herself to her feet as Half-Stripe ably tore open the man's coveralls, exposing his bare chest. Jean knealt next to the submariner, placed one hand over his breastbone and another farther down on the left side of his ribs. She didn't bother with a cage this time, sending a surge of electric energy straight through the man’s body.

----------

Pain shook Corjha out of his torpor. Intense, throbbing pain that stabbed at his right foot and flung his eyes open. Someone was touching him. There was another surge of pain and he felt his muscles contract sharply, causing him to spasm until onl his heels and the back of his head touched the sand. Conscious and somewhat angry, he sat bolt upright. His already aching head slamming into someone else's, and she fell back, uttering a stream of curses that would have put any sailor to shame. 

Corjha moaned and held his pounding head. Strong, rough hands shoved him down onto his back, before their owner began wiping his face with a cool, coarse cloth. He shivered, his breathing beginning to even out. 

"Great Merciful Sahlin, he's lucky. Head wounds bleed a lot, even minor ones. He'll live, as long as he takes it easy and doesn’t show any signs of a concussion." Half-Stripe sighed. Ironheart, leaned in for a closer look at his catch 

"It's Corjha," The Golem said. "...lucky bastard!" The man weakly raised a hand and presented the golem with a rude gesture as Half-Stripe shooed them away with a low hiss and began to clean his cuts and salve his bruises. As she did so, she explained to the dazed man where he was and how his boat had come to be beached in such a spectacular fashion. Corjha, now patched up and wrapped in a traveling cloak, listened quietly. They were actually near a large trading port and could likely get the Hunley repaired fairly quickly, especially with a skilled Battery Mage at their disposal. 

"I refined my magic in the Dwarven steel mills at Ojah-Brann. They melt large batches with electricity, not fire. It's faster and more efficient, not to mention hotter. It's also a good way for a Battery Mage to learn how to control vast electric power in relative safety. Metal attracts electricity, which is one of the reasons I can help fix Hunley. I can bend metal back into shape and weld them there, given flux. But that's the problem, flux is a uniquely Dwarven thing and not easy to find." Jean trailed off into thought while Corjha looked at Ironheart, who shrugged. 

"A lot has changed in 9 years." He mused. Jean looked back at him. 

"You could say that...I'm not the stupid girl I used to be," She snorted. "The Monks of Bhorindyn sorted me out right.” 

"Is that what you’ve been up to?" Corjha asked. 

"For the most part…I left the monastery about two years ago. After our...falling out...I got myself lost in the woods. I went on as long as I could, thinking I could find my way home like I always did, until I ended up in an unfamiliar village. I had no idea where I was and nobody believed that I was a Princess and refused me travel or trade without money. For a few years I lived as a beggar, hoping that I would eventually be recognized by someone or bump into a guard or family member from home, but it never happened."

"Of course not...when they found scraps of your clothes here and there, everyone figured you were as good as dead. There are a few known Lycans in those woods." The submariner adjusted himself in the sand. 

"That makes sense, in hindsight. Anyway, long story short, the monks took me in and set about transforming a spoiled girl used to the pampered life into someone who could appreciate any life, not just that of a princess. Then, three years ago, I destroyed half a building with a lightning bolt in an attempt to apprehend a thief in town. After that, they shipped me off to the Dwarves to hone my ability and become a Battery Mage. And here we are." She spread her hands. Corjha smiled. He in turn explained that he'd left to apprentice with the Dwarven engineers in a seaside kingdom south of Orlann. After 4 years of planning, problem-solving and smashed fingers, he'd built the Hunley and was now troubleshooting while on sea trials. Until the bandits, the submarine had performed better than expected. Jean watched as he talked. He was still short; that would never change. His normally well-kept black hair stuck up all over his head, rigid with sea salt. He was well-tanned and his body was no longer that of a teenager. He'd bulked up some and his seafaring life had made sure he stayed well-muscled. Even though their falling out had been dramatic and angry, Jean was honestly impressed and happy that he'd done so very well for himself.

That night, after a dinner of grilled fish and edible seaweed, Jean sighed happily as she lay down to sleep. Everyone said their goodnights and Half-Stripe climbed a tree to take watch. Even in her sleep, she was more alert than anyone else. The Monks had been right; time healed all wounds. Even though she'd have to resist prying about what he really thought, she was glad that Corjha didn't hate her. Feeling as if something had fallen back into place, she drifted off into a sound sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Cage or caged: Battery Mage slang for the protective electric field that they generate around themselves and sometimes others to prevent damage to the heart and brain.

Also, Half-Stripe is a Kenduu liger hybrid, hence the term 'Halfling'. Hobbits don't exist in my fantasy. :P