Moar Power!

Tinker sat at the top of the stairs, grinning.  "Well, that, sir, is the purpose of a mage, is it not?  'To know, to will--'"

"'To dare, to be silent'," completed Walker. "To hell with the last bit." 

"There's a reason for that last bit, Old Man," said Tinker.  The man he addressed didn't look old at all.  He seemed even younger than Tinker.  Walker stood an easy six feet, short black hair and jade green eyes.  He was muscular, but not buff, and handsome to most of the ladies.  Tinker, in contrast, looked to be in his late 40's, coming into magic as a late bloomer.  Tinker was just as tall, not as buff, with dirty brown hair and blue eyes.  If he was younger, he could be classified as a hick. 

"I'm not going to be silent if magic works!" Walker continued.  "It works, and I'm going to show that it does work.  Bring me a necromancer!"

Tinker shook his head slightly.  "The reason for the silence part is so that the powers-that-be make sure it works in the way the universe intends."

Walker looked up at Tinker.  Tinker's eyes narrowed at the look - Walker's countenance illustrated his next words: "I know what I intend and that's how it will work."

"I'm not bringing you a necromancer."

Walker pocketed the C4.  "Then I'll just have to find one."  He started up the stairs, easily circumventing Tinker.

"Hey, wait, before you go."

Walker stopped just behind Tinker.  "What?"

"I can make it better."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know.  More range, more kablooey?"

Walker looked down at him, trying to stifle a laugh.  "'Kablooey'?"

Tinker pulled out a pair of pliers and twirled them in his hand like a gunslinger would his revolver.  Then, a third voice came from the archway of the room, "I see you've been busy."

The End

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