This post was inspired by a writing prompt in the Worldbuilding Community - "Construction Materials".
Enjoy !
Image crated by AI in NightCafe Studio
It was snowing in the mountains south of the Vrasiyjamelt Sea. But that was normal in such a northerly location, three hundred-odd miles even further north than the city of Magoran.
The Sea itself was clogged with slushy ice and small bergs. It wasn't much of a sea, really, just a lake some two hundred miles long fed by meltwater from the northern ice cap, frozen in winter and freezing cold in summer.
But Maligar Magus liked it here for the simple fact that it was so isolated. It is true that there were monsters in the mountains, both tribes and individual horrors. But they didn't bother him, they feared his powers and rightly so, and left his tower in peace.
Brave adventurers on the other hand were something he deeply despised. They'd show up at the most inconvenient times, and were rarely polite enough to sit down with a cup of tea while he finished up whatever experiment or research he was currently working on.
Maligar had one such in the dungeon of his tower right now. A young dwarven ranger calling himself Bruno the Bold, son of Borin the Brave, grandson of Boris the Incomparable. Such arrogant pride from one so young !
He descended the white steps to the cell where this Bruno was clasped to the wall by a spell. Maligar considered himself to be a wizardly intellectual, on the leading edge of thaumaturgical research.
"So, my intruding dwarven friend," he asked his restrained guest, "I expect you are wondering how I keep you here. It is simple. Unlike the lazy hedge wizards you are no doubt familiar with, I am a true mage. An inventor and improver of spells, not content with just riding on the back of the work of others. In this case, I have modified the famous Bigby's Grasping Hand spell. You are the lucky first trial subject of what I call Bigby's Shackling Hand."
Maligar watched with amusement as his captive writhed and squirmed, unable to free himself from the fingers emerging from the walls to pin each of his limbs. He grinned evilly as he decided to inflict some proper anguish on this uninvited intruder.
"I do believe you came to burgle my tower, thinking that it was inhabited by just a foolish old hermit. You saw it's splendid white form and thought there would be riches here for the taking."
As Bruno shook his head to deny the accusation, Maligar continued.
"But have you noticed how lovely and warm it is in here, despite the wintry weather outside ? The reason is simple. I've built my home over the decades from bone, one of the best insulators against the cold that nature has given us. There's no magic in that."
He hesitated for a moment and went on.
"The magic is in another spell. This one of my own devising. False modesty is for fools, so I named this spell after myself. Maligar's Marvellous Bonesculpting."
Beaming with pride, Maligar told the dwarf, "Every bone here has been shaped by my own magic to fit perfectly, making my tower a work of art as well as a practical dwelling place."
Then his smile widened further, and took on a cruel twist.
"Bone, of course, is something that each creature only has a limited supply of. So I have to use every scrap I can find. Which brings us to another spell I devised. You will remain conscious to enjoy every moment. I have named this spell after it's function. I call it Maligar's Fillet. "