The Train Job, Part 2

It is not the train that makes the job difficult, but rather the speed at which it travels across our glorious land. Faster than the quickest steed, this iron behemoth pulls the weight of industry and progress across our commonwealth day in and day out, fuelled by magic and the will of the people. Magnificent.

But, when you are attempting to apprehend a group of dangerous criminals intent on using the train system as a means to wreak havoc, well...

One can see why Ser Gilbert is upset.

The Warlock Ten, or Dex as most of his companions called him, was waiting at the rear of the train to provide arcane support if called upon. His communication cuff link had recently chirped, telling him that Ser Gilbert was engaging his target. Other than that though, the system that the team used to stay in contact was eerily silent. Their opponent's strengths were not clear at this time, and Gilbert had not wanted to risk their information being intercepted so he had ordered them to remain silent.

Warlock Ten had wanted to point out that his examination of the individuals from afar had revealed no divinitory essences or systems that could possibly perform such an interception, but this was not Warlock Ten's first Mage Hunter. He had long ago learned not to volunteer too much information, or to let his keeper become too aware of his true potential. Partly for his own safety, and partly for theirs.

Mage Hunters with particularly potent Warlocks tended to volunteer for increasingly dangerous tasks, and although he loved his country, Warlock Ten had no immediate intention of dying alone in some far-flung corner of the globe to preserve and expand that country.

He looked out the small window of the baggage car he was hiding in, and sighed contentedly. The train continued its long trek through the grasslands and farms of the commonwealth, oblivious to the altercation about to occur inside it. Absent-mindedly, he pawed at the locket hidden inside his shirt as he wondered for a moment if it was all worth it. The wheats and grasses flew past the window, mountains in the distance seeming to lumber slowly, calmly by in the distance.

Yes.

He steeled his resolve. Indeed, it was worth it. Every bit.

His cuff link chirped twice in quick succession, and Warlock Ten broke from his reverie. Time to work. He scurried up the ladder on the wall, and flung open the hatch to the roof. Sunlight blazed into the dim baggage compartment, and the sound of whipping air was nearly deafening. He steeled himself, and climbed out into the driving wind.