Pronunciation

The Gloom Market’s crowd churned about Nuesti. Straightening from the arcane artifacts she peered about for the disruption’s source.

A man strode methodically as other practitioners tripped over each other getting out of his way.

“Now who is he?” Nuesti mused. She knew the players of note. From the other’s reactions, he was of note, but she hadn’t noted him before.

“That’s Weloth,” the shopkeeper said, rapidly bundling up his wares. “He uses onomatopoeia as a weapon.”

Nuesti turned toward the shopkeeper. “Onomatopoeia as a weapon?” True, words were power. She’d spent her life studying them, but no spell called for onomatopoeia.

“Transformation magic,” the man said, hauling his bundles up. “You don’t want to learn firsthand.” He retreated toward the closest building.

“But I do.” Nuesti stepped into Weloth’s path.

He paused his lip twisting into a snarl. “Move,” he demanded. “I’ve important business.”

“Make me.” Folding her arms, Nuesti smiled tauntingly.

Power gathered about the man. Great power. No wonder the locals had noted him. The man spoke echoingly, “Purr.”

The single word flowed over Nuesti.

And did nothing.

Weloth’s withdrew a step, but Nuesti felt the power still active about him.

“That’s not what cats sound like,” she chided. “Cat’s meow.” Wrapping the final word in his power, it echoed at him.

He screamed as wind whipped the dust about him. When it cleared, a black cat sat wide eyed. Nuesti curled her finger, beckoning the creature. “Come along, Weloth.” Glowering, the cat stepped toward her obediently.