"Are the chains ready, Drakath?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good. Bring them to me."

"...Yes, my lord."


Nifaria turned the Ice Chains over in her flaming hands, examining them with approval. She ignored, for the moment, her unconscious prisoner who was lying on the floor beneath her feet, marvelling instead at the cunning craftsmanship of the set of chains.

Ice Chains

Forged from some of the shards of the Ice Scythe, these diamond-hard chains sap your strength with a magical cold that is never satisfied.

Smiling to herself, Nifaria opened her hands, allowing the chains to simply float out of her grasp, still controlled by her magikinetic powers. She sent them soaring down to the young pyromancer, and with a simple flick of effort in her mind, she snapped one set of shackles over his wrists and the other around his ankles. Satisfied with the cruel restraints, she finally shifted her focus to the young man himself. "Wake up, Konnan," she ordered him harshly. "It's time to get to work."

"Muh... ugh, I..." Konnan mumbled groggily as his eyelids fluttered open. "what...?" Still lying facedown on the hard stone floor, and obviously confused, he asked no one in particular, "Wh... where am I?"

As he rose to a kneeling position, Konnan looked at the chains binding his wrists together with a sort of confused disbelief. Then his eyes lifted to meet Nifaria's gaze. Only then did his hopeless situation seem to dawn on him. "No. NO!" he said in utter refusal.

"Quiet!" Nifaria snapped. A brief but powerful flash of fire burst out from her towards Konnan, throwing him several feet backwards. The force was so great that it took the solid stone wall at Konnan's back to stop him. "I have to thank you, Konnan," Nifaria continued, holding the fire orb before her, proudly displaying it to her captive.


How dare she! Konnan thought in outrage, barely listening as the fire being continued speaking. He stared defiantly into her eyes, refusing to be intimidated, although he had to admit to himself that he was actually terrified. Without the power of the Orb at my side...

A dramatic burst of flames and an indignant shout of "HEY!" got Konnan's attention. He shielded his eyes, vulnerable now to the bright light without his pyromancer's mask, then lowered his hands again to see the one who had just arrived. Xan. Of course.

To Konnan's absolute fury, Nifaria turned the Fire Orb over to Xan, who quickly left with it, laughing triumphantly. "No!" Konnan objected, leaning forward angrily to glare at Nifaria. "The orb is mine!"

"No, Konnan..." Nifaria replied in a deadly whisper, black and red sparks of power shooting out from her body. Suddenly, more tongues of black and red energy crackled out from her, completely obscuring her from view for a moment. When they faded, Sepulchure stood in her place. "...The Fire Orb is MINE."

What? Sepulchure? Is it possible that Nifaria...?

"You, Konnan, were able to draw more power from the Orb than anyone..." Konnan had barely been listening as Sepulchure spoke, but his next words were terrifying: "...and I am going to take you apart piece by piece to find out how." Then, impossibly it seemed, Sepulchure began to grow to monstrous proportions, easily towering above his proud, frightened captive. Dark magical energy crackled and sparked around him, making him seem even more dangerous and imposing. Sepulchure's voice boomed, seeming to vibrate through to Konnan's very bones as he said, "Starting NOW."

If I had a choice, Konnan thought in terror, looking up at Sepulchure in his titan form, the only sane thing to do here would be to let a Dragon Lord handle it. But these chains...!

Paralyzed by fear, Konnan didn't even try to dodge as Sepulchure reached down one giant hand and grabbed Konnan, squeezing his body cruelly. However, when Sepulchure tossed him hard, flinging the young man several feet through the air, Konnan did raise his hands to cover his head in an instinctive motion of self preservation. He hit the floor hard and rolled, knowing he was getting badly bruised, at least, by the impact. As he rolled to a stop, he looked up just in time to see an enormous red, armoured boot come pressing down on top of him. He tried to hold off the crushing weight of Sepulchure's boot with his hands, but it was almost absurd to think he could succeed. He's toying with me! Konnan realized, as Sepulchure's foot continued to press downwards onto his chest at an agonizingly slow pace, forcing him to take shallower and shallower breaths. Finally, however, Sepulchure lifted his foot. Shrinking himself back down to his regular size, he stared coldly down at Konnan where he lay trying to get air back inside his lungs. "The Fire Orb, Konnan," Sepulchure said softly, almost coaxingly. "Tell me what I want to know."

Still coughing and gasping for air, Konnan rolled over onto his belly and pressed his hands against the unforgiving floor. With an effort, he pushed his battered body up from the floor and staggered to his feet. "Why should I?" he snarled. "What possible reason could you give me to do that? You are too weak to control the fire orb, Sepulchure. It will only obey m- "

Sepulchure cut him off with a fierce punch to the gut, grabbing onto the shoulderplate of Konnan's armour with his free hand to keep the young man standing. "Do not think to distract me with petty insults," he said quietly, and sent a jolt of evil magic through his hands into Konnan's body, rocking the young man with waves of pain. "As you can see, I am far from weak." Walking forward suddenly, clutching Konnan's shoulders with both hands now, Sepulchure slammed the younger mage against the wall again. "As for your question... If you do not tell me the secret to controlling the Fire Orb, I am going to kill you."

Looking past Sepulchure, Konnan saw a somewhat short, black-haired young man who appeared to be in his late teens arrive. Releasing Konnan's shoulders and turning to follow the pyromancer's gaze, Sepulchure saw the young man as well. "Ah, Drakath. Good, you are here."

"As you commanded, master," the young man called Drakath replied promptly, kneeling before Sepulchure momentarily.

Turning back to Konnan, Sepulchure asked calmly, "So, what will it be?"


"Will you kill me if I cooperate with you?" Konnan asked quietly, leaning against the wall behind him for support in his weakened state.

"No," Sepulchure mused, "Probably not."

Drakath smiled to himself. Good! he thought. This should be easier than I thought! It looks like maybe he'll just cooperate, and we can get past this whole messy business.

"Then," Konnan said through clenched teeth, "I WON'T cooperate with you! SEND ME TO MY FAMILY!"

"Master!" Drakath gasped in shock, reaching to put a hand on the hilt of his sheathed longsword. "Do you think he means it?"

"SILENCE, both of you!" Sepulchure shouted. Slowly reaching out towards Konnan with one hand, he balled it into a tight fist. Blackish-purple evil magic surrounded Konnan, and he was lifted, choking, from the ground. "I give the orders to you, not the other way around," Sepulchure said in a darkly quiet tone, as Konnan writhed tensely in the grip of his evil magic. The young man was obviously experiencing a great deal of pain - that would have been evident to Drakath even if he had not personally felt his own master's wrath in that fashion. 'Let that be a lesson to you, prince of fools.' The insult had been almost as painful to bear as the physical punishment for Drakath's failure to capture the flying eye with the gnomish spying device strapped to it. It was difficult to watch another person being subjected to that same magical attack now, but Sepulchure had made it clear that he wanted Drakath present.

"I won't kill you," Sepulchure continued, more calmly this time. He lowered his hand, relaxing his fist, and Konnan floated almost gently to the ground where he lay crumpled in remembered agony. "...At least, not before I get what I want. Your defiance is meaningless, Konnan."

The pyromancer struggled to his feet again, staring angrily at Sepulchure.

"I WILL know how to access the fire orb's might!" Sepulchure crowed.

Drakath could almost feel it himself as he watched Konnan slam forcefully backwards into the wall.

Then Sepulchure paused, his arm still outstretched towards Konnan, holding the young man pressed up against the wall with his magic. "...But first," he said musingly, "I won't send you to your family, but I'll show you what happened to them. I was there," he added darkly. With a large, sweeping wave of his other arm, the entire room seemed to go black for an instant. When Drakath could see anything again, Sepulchure's illusion made it seem as though the three of them were standing in the middle of a burning village. Drakath could even hear the crackling of the fire and feel the heat of the flames. The smoke stung his eyes, but the only thing that remained the same as it had been was that he could still breathe the air normally, rather than the thick clouds of smoke that billowed through every few seconds. The trio stood, in fact, in front of one house in particular, where a woman stood just outside the door, holding a small girl in her arms. They were trapped by fires from escaping their yard to get away, however, so the woman and girl just hugged each other as hard as they could.

"Marta!" Konnan choked as he laid eyes on the woman. "My wife...!"

"Yes," Sepulchure said, drawing the word out in a cruel drawl. "That's right, Konnan. This is your family on the night Akriloth destroyed your village."

Konnan tried to go to his wife and daughter, but he was held firmly in place - part of the illusion, Drakath supposed. So he just yelled out desperately, "Marta! Nellie!"

"They can't hear you," Sepulchure told him, the glee obvious in his voice. "This is only an illusion." Sepulchure placed one armoured hand on Konnan's shoulder, as if in a comforting gesture. "You must have wondered what happened to them, what it was like for them. Well, now you get to see. There's no need to thank me."

Konnan seemed to Drakath to be as oblivious to Sepulchure's words as the woman and girl were to Konnan's. The young smith continued his vain struggles to reach his family, even though they were mere illusions.

"Hold tight to me, Nellie!" the woman said, putting a hand behind her daughter's head and pulling her close as both of them shut their eyes.

"I'm scared, Mommy! Where's Daddy?" the little girl cried, resting her head on her mother's shoulder.

"Shh. Just hold tight."

Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, Sepulchure caused the illusion to end. "I think you get the general idea," he said cruelly as he calmly watched Konnan crash to the ground, released from Sepulchure's hold on him that had kept him from moving during the illusion.

"No..!" Konnan wept, his closed eyes brimming with tears. He stayed where he had fallen on all fours, his entire body shaking terribly. "I failed them."

"Now," Sepulchure continued remorselessly, "how did you manage to get so much power from the fire orb?"

"How do you think?" Konnan said in anguish. "My family! I - !" His head snapped up and he opened his eyes to glare at Sepulchure. "No! I won't cooperate with you!"

"Okay," Sepulchure said calmly. He delivered a vicious kick to Konnan's stomach, causing the young man to double over again in pain, gasping for breath. "I don't need your cooperation. Just your secret." After a brief pause of consideration, Sepulchure added as if in afterthought, "Oh, yes. I almost forgot - this is what they felt."

"AHH!" Konnan screamed as fire shot out in a wave from Sepulchure and struck him, lingering for several moments surrounding the young man's body. "But why? My training with Xan - I -"

"The fires can hurt you," Sepulchure explained as the fire diminished first to a gentle orange glow, then disappeared, "because of these chains. The powerful ice magic in them not only counters your own skill at pyromancy, leaving you vulnerable. It also weakens your defense against the element of fire."

Konnan screamed again as fire whirled around his body once more. The magical fires of Sepulchure's attack left no burns on his body, but when they finally subsided again, Konnan had obviously been weakened a great deal further. Crawling on all fours, his head hanging limply towards the ground, the young man struggled across the floor towards his attacker, as if there were some way he might fight back against Sepulchure.

What a fool! Drakath thought, surprised at the action. Doesn't he know it's hopeless? He should just give up. Now.

Sepulchure waited until Konnan was mere inches away from his armoured feet, then sent another wave of fire out from his hand at the young pyromancer again.

"No..!" Konnan cried through clenched teeth, falling flat on the ground at Sepulchure's feet as he writhed in pain. "Uuuuugghhhh...!" It obviously took a great effort of will not to scream again. That, and he was so weak he might not have been able to muster the strength for even that much. Shaking fiercely, he reached out a hand towards Sepulchure again, but this time Drakath could see the change in his manner. This time, it was not an act of aggressive rebellion, but the desperate plea of someone in intense agony. "Please - !" Almost immediately, though, Konnan balled his reaching hand into a tight fist and slammed it into the ground, growling in frustration.

Sepulchure allowed the fires to die once more. He allowed a moment for the glow to subside, then reached down and roughly hauled Konnan halfway up to his feet with one hand on the front of the young man's own deep red armour. "Here, Konnan," he said quietly, bringing his other hand up in front of Konnan's face. That hand held a red healing potion.

Konnan's eyes widened at the sight of the potion, and he tried to resist as Sepulchure offered it.

"Refusing my generosity? How dare you?" Sepulchure mocked, striking Konnan hard across the face with the back of his fist, being careful to keep his thumb over the opening of the small bottle so as not to spill the potion. With a grunt at the impact, Konnan sagged in Sepulchure's grip, senseless.

Drakath flinched at the sound of Sepulchure's metal gauntlet against Konnan's unprotected face. Ouch!

Sepulchure easily poured the red healing potion into Konnan's open mouth, then set the empty bottle aside.

Konnan moaned as he regained consciousness, beginning to struggle in Sepulchure's grip again. "No! I don't want - " He broke off as his gaze landed on the empty healing potion bottle on the nearby table, and suddenly became very still. "You!" he accused, whipping his head around to glare fiercely at Sepulchure, his eyes flashing. He reached up towards Sepulchure with both chained hands, but the evil dragon lord threw him to the ground in evident disgust, effectively ending the attempted attack.

"If only I had the fire orb...!" Konnan snarled, not appearing to care that he was on the floor at Sepulchure's feet.

"Yes?" Sepulchure prompted interestedly. "Tell me, Konnan. What would you do with the orb if you had it? How would you evoke its power?" Abruptly, he knelt down in front of Konnan, his own mask inches away from the younger man's unmasked face. "You must know by now it is useless to resist. Shall we continue, or are you ready to talk on your own?" Sepulchure paused long enough to throw his head back and laugh in pure cruel delight. "HAHAHAHAHA! I am rather enjoying myself," he continued, looking down at Konnan again, "so I leave it to you. Choose!"

Surely he'll give up NOW! Drakath thought, holding his breath in suspense at the situation. No one just ignores a threat like that from Sepulchure!

"There is nothing you can do to me," Konnan gasped out raggedly, still glaring up at Sepulchure, "to make me cooperate with you!"

"Oh, you still think so?" Sepulchure asked him darkly. "I wonder what it will take to change your mind."


Sepulchure reached down and roughly grabbed a fistful of Konnan's short, thick yellow hair, forcing his head back. At the same time, he stood with one foot on the kneeling young man's chain that hung from between his wrists, keeping his hands conveniently out of the way as he forced another healing potion down his throat.

Drakath was beginning to feel as though he needed a healing potion. He was actually getting quite sick to his stomach watching all this violence. Why won't you cooperate? he silently pleaded with Konnan. I can't stand it any more!

As Konnan began to regain his full senses again, he tried to struggle, but it was useless. As strong as he was, he was no match for Sepulchure in his weakened condition.


Konnan had lost all track of time. Sepulchure's attacks kept coming mercilessly, and each time the young pyromancer thought he might just be able to at least escape his pain through death or senselessness, another healing potion destroyed even that hope. More than anything, it was that which attacked his spirit the most cruelly.

But in spite of it all, Konnan refused to buckle.


"I'm out of healing potions? Oh, well." With a casual shrug, Sepulchure tossed the empty vial over his shoulder. It smashed on the floor behind him at Drakath's feet. "I'll have to get some more."

Drakath knew that Sepulchure was planning another raid on Reens's potion shop, as he always did when he wanted potions from her - the young potions mistress certainly wasn't going to help one of Lore's greatest forces of evil of her own free will.

"Take... care... of him for me, Drakath," Sepulchure ordered, looking disdainfully down at Konnan where he lay, still chained and now half conscious on the floor.

"Yes, Master," Drakath said quietly, almost in a whisper.

Sepulchure didn't seem to notice, and swept grandly out of the room, leaving the two young men alone together.

Take care of him...? Drakath thought, the seeds of disobedience growing in his heart. As you command, Master. "Hey," he said quietly, kneeling next to Konnan's limp form.

The brawny young pyromancer-smith was breathing heavily and raggedly. At the sound of another human voice so close, he flinched away. "...no..." he rejected in a barely audible whisper.

You've gone too far, Sepulchure, Drakath thought angrily, reaching out to lift Konnan in his arms. The other man was heavy, but in no condition to resist. With a grunt of effort, Drakath lifted him up onto his shoulder. Holding Konnan with one arm looped around behind his legs, with Konnan's arms and ice chains brushing against Drakath's back, he looked around. "Now, which is the best way out of here?" He paused uncertainly, torn by a decision. Can I risk revealing my secret? Drakath closed his eyes momentarily and shuddered, recalling the way that Sepulchure had treated Konnan. I must - the risk of failure otherwise is greater. I need to get us both out of here... and someone else, too.

Focusing, Drakath shifted himself to his draconic form. As he changed, Konnan slipped off of his glossy black-scaled shoulder, but Drakath's arms were now the massive forearms of a dragon and easily held the young man cradled against his chest. Drakath was still young, so he was not yet fully grown in his dragon form. As a human, he appeared as a young man in his late teens, but as a dragon, he was still considerably smaller than an adult dragon. However, he was already large enough that Konnan was not difficult to carry - even in flight. I must move quickly, before I'm seen like this! Drakath thought. Still tightly clutching Konnan, he sprang up from the hard stone floor of Sepulchure's fortress, and after a few powerful beats of his wings he was airborne and gliding towards the throne room. He stopped there only long enough to reach down with his open jaws and scoop up the baby dracolich, Fluffy, from where she napped peacefully just outside the massive room's door. I'm just glad she doesn't like sleeping inside her dragonhouse, Drakath thought with relief as he swerved aside, flying swiftly away from the fortress. I don't think I could have carried it, and to wake her up I might've attracted the attention of some of Sepulchure's skeleton army.

The feeling of the bare bones of Fluffy's feet pattering around in a tight circle on his tongue, and her head repeatedly bumping against the roof of his mouth, was disturbing. Drakath was still greatly bothered by the actions of his master. Turned into a dracolich - an undead - on her hatching day! It's... it's just not right. Soon, though, to Drakath's relief, Fluffy settled down and curled up to go back to sleep, safe and warm inside Drakath's mouth.