Tiny Jail

The furious Jinn blocks our path, right in the middle of the narrow pass, which is a charming little patch of greenery that it clearly intends to keep for itself. It melts the snow, determined to wage war on winter all by itself and visibly annoyed by the cold constantly assailing its territory. I feel my men's eyes on my back and sense a bit of challenge in their attitude. I raise an eyebrow. All right, I'll show them what I'm made of. But I'm not going to launch a frontal assault on this walking hibachi – I don't want to ruin my uniform. I cross my arms and look as indifferent as possible, then turn to my troopers, more in jest than in actual defiance. I signal to my new aide-de-camp to bring me my things, and she promptly obeys. Then, like a matador entering the ring, I take a few steps towards the creature.

I write my Glyphs on a piece of paper and calmly charge it with Mana, like an assassin sharpening his blades. Whispers and murmurs sweep through the ranks as bets are placed. Here comes the fun part. I toss the paper onto the ground with a disdainful gesture, like throwing down a gauntlet. There are chuckles and jeers behind me… I turn towards them, flash them an ironic smile, then whip around to shout at the angry Jinn. Naturally, the Eidolon instantly leaps towards me, like an enraged bull rushing at a red cape… and promptly falls into the trap, just as I expected. In a sudden swirl of paper, a cage forms around the flaming Jinn. Behind me comes the sound of cheers, applause and a few disappointed exclamations. Florets are handed from losers to winners as I wave to the crowd. I can't wait to see my score.

SIGISMAR

393 AC