Since I've still got myself stuffed in this booth with Glute while I write, I asked the (admittedly rude) question if what the deal with his name is.
Turns out it's just a wizard name. I'm not sure how this affects my employment contract and billing for him. Though that might be the point. Wizard names are chosen so that onomancy doesn't work against them, but I'm guessing taxes and onomancy are pretty closely related.
Edit: a small explanation for this one weird piece of prose on my blog. I saw this piece of art and my brain went "that seems cool... Like a cool way to travel between planes even. Like you have to step into the jaws of a mighty serpent. Yeah... And what if there was a wizard behind you trying to stop you?"
So, yeah. Short story below the cut.
"...and all this, foolish wizard, all of this is to end you."
He takes another step towards the top of the alter, the stone passage to nothing, towards the walkway to the abyss.
"Nothing you have up your sleeve can stop this." Another step. Three left before the top
An arrow whistles through the air over your shoulder towards Phlest, and by some mercy he plants his feet on the steps. But only to flick the arrow away as it enters his sphere of influence. It turns first to stone as it touches the tips of his fingers and then to dust as bounces away.
"There is no magic that can touch me, no arrow in any quiver that can break my body, no weapon that can be held against me. I am one with the earth, the great equalizer, all forces beneath your feet answer to my call." He takes another step, confident to turn his back completely to you.
A shadow, dust from footfalls, sprint up the stairs behind Phlest. But they stop short. And slowly, as Phlest takes another step (one left) you see the body of a halfling appear there where the footsteps stopped. She appears from her feet up, similar to how you know she should appear, but frozen in place. He'd skin is gray, her form is motionless. By the time you can see her face you know she is nothing more than a statue--turned to stone like all the rest.
"At last." Phlest mutters, his voice carried by the flat white granite surfaces of the chasm. "Rise to the surface. Sink like a stone."
Your fingers reflexively form a gesture and you feel fire leave your fingertips. Your eyes are locked on Phlest. You don't see the flames die halfway up the stairs and scatter to white ash in the subtle breeze that blows down them.
Phlest stands at the top. One foot on a granite step, one hanging in the open air. You open your mouth to speak but it feels like the words in your mouth turn to stone as you form them.
The last step.
Three arrows embed themselves into Phlest's back. The sound of metal arrowheads clattering against stone sounds like it might be reassuring. Perhaps he was not so protected as he thought. Perhaps he too had been too burdened by sorrow to rise to the top. To truly rise to the top.
Phlest leans forward. His other foot leaves the stairs.
For a second he looks as though he is floating in the air.
And then he falls.
And the Jaws of the Abyss, like a hungry eel, come up to meet him before he can fall out of view.
And, engulfed in teeth and tendrils and darkness, he is taken to your doom.
