Chapter 7: The Heir of Sigon
Night had fallen slowly on the Zann Esu sorceress camp, and even then the place seemed to be filled with an eerie supernatural light. This light gave Faust plenty of time to look over the tome he had been given, but what he found was very astonishing! The book itself was an aged, but still quite legible tome of necromancy!! This strange book, which Faust had seen many versions of in his father's tower, was filled with the secret arts, rituals, and techniques of the priesthood, down to the very most devastating spell! What was a potential threat like a Zann Esu sorceress clan doing with such a hallowed tome of knowledge? And furthermore, how would they "train" Faust using its methods? Did they plan to teach him his own art? That didn't seem possible-- The Zann Esu didn't dabble in the ways of Rathma.
Regardless, Faust read on. He read past the Den'Trag and the Armor spell, he had already mastered those. He had dabbled in poisons himself, as well as summons and hadn't found them much to his liking. His only contention to the summoning art was that it would allow him to eventually raise the dead, albeit a shadow of them, so he would give them some thought. However, his true passion lay in wielding the ethereal energies of the magical plain. He saw a multitude of spells in front of him, but none could he see that he was ready to master. He tried forming a Talon of Trang'Oul, the spear like spell that his father had pinned his arm with, but he was only able to get a Den'Trag sized projectile. Sure, it was more dense and powerful than the Teeth of the Dragon themselves, but he couldn't propel it using the magical force the text alluded to. He would need more magical training.
He turned then to the summoning section. His cousin Raeson probably lived by this part of the tome. Mages and regular skeletons were not a problem to produce, even though Faust himself could only produce one or two of each, and his weren't particularly fearsome the way Raeson's were. Raeson had obviously delved into the Mastery of these skeletons more than Faust had, but that wasn't important in the necromancer's mind. As far as summoning was concerned, making something from nothing was a much more promising endeavor. Faust had been able to make a golem like object out of the dirt and mud of the earth, and that was something Raeson hadn't shown yet, so that was promising. Faust was now quickly struck with an idea, but dismayed as he saw that his cell was plated firmly in brick and mortar, no mud or dirt to be seen. Faust flipped through the pages, and after reading some more was quietly pleased. There was no dirt, but the bars of the cell just happened to be made of iron...
Blood, sweat, but no tears covered the paladin's body as he converged among the camp. He had heard of a gathering against the growing evil of the world, and the elders of his weakened religion had bid him to seek out the Zann Esu camps near here to lend his assistance. Both he and the elders could sense that something big was coming on the horizon, and they knew that help would be needed. He had traveled a short distance from his homeland of Kurast, but the road was treacherous, for it seemed that the minions of Hell could not stay away from the temples of the Zakarum. Now it was time for the paladins of Zakarum to fulfill the call they had ignored ten years ago... Hopefully, the package, which bobbed rhythmically against his thigh, would be enough to prove his worth.
The assassin Ilfe sat, poised and hidden in her guard post on top of the cell roof. The prisoner she guarded now and had guarded earlier today was obviously very important to the sorceresses that ran this camp, for he was under very tight security. Unlike the other prisoners, this one was put under the charge of two Viz-Jaaq'Tar guards like Ilfe and her superior, Quirrari. Things had been crazy ever since trouble was reported in the Isles of the Warrior Women, and now the great mage clans were gathering again, but whether or not they were facing an evil or just panicking from the leftovers of the Hell Days had yet to be seen. If Ilfe had recalled, however, there were still two of the Lesser Evils around that were willing and able to cause chaos in order avenge their Prime Evil brethren. Azmodan and Belial still ravaged the world of the living, but their exploits were just now coming to light.
In a few minutes, she started detecting a movement from outside the camp... Something was coming this way. However, what she didn't detect was the presence of Quirrari, who happened to appear by her side as if she came out of thin air. Ilfe was startled, yes, but she knew enough from her teachings now that she couldn't flinch. Her superior looked at her with a grim look, so Ilfe knew that something was up. Slowly she turned her head to face her elder, who spoke to her in a terse manner.
"We have a visitor coming, I have seen him while I was on my reconnaissance mission ... A paladin from Zakarum."
"That's nice. What does it have to do with anything?"
"He's very strong... Almost as strong as me, I measure. He would have to be, because I think he saw me.. He has a certain aura about him too... It's strange."
"Permission to opinionate, ma'am."
"I already know what you are going to say, and I know that they have deities that lend them special spiritual fields that alter their aura, but this is different. He's probably going to present his services to the Elders, tonight."
"I have a charge to watch."
"Very well."
The area where her teacher and superior officer had been sitting was suddenly cloaked in a stark darkness, and soon Quirarri began to fade away, and then she was gone. Now alone, Ilfe sighed to herself. She too had felt the 'aura' that her teacher had talked about, and she had to admit that it was something strange. She didn't feel to comfortable about it either. Now thinking back to her charge, she realized that he had been quiet. She had seen the sorceress Erias, the youngest Elder of the Zann Esu, go into his cell earlier to deliver some food and some other object, of whose nature Ilfe couldn't have been sure. To check up on him, she placed her ear to the roof of the cell, and she began to hear the sounds he was making. Just the gentle flip, flip, flip... He was reading a book. Impatiently Ilfe sat and retained her guard position. For some reason, he annoyed her. She let out a sigh; something was up with this priest and she would find out.
Aurthor slowly walked into the temporary camp of the Zann Esu. Now the heavy plate armor that he normally wore with such ease was taxing him greatly, and his sword almost touched the ground as he held it, unsheathed in case he met any danger on the way over to the camp. Not only was his equipment taxing, but so was the special...parcel he carried on his person. When he entered the camp he figured that it would be safe enough to give up his defenses, so he sheathed his longsword, which was said to contain the very plague of Hell, but propped up the Tower shield that was inherent to his house of paladins, for it had been passed down ever since the original wielder had been made famous. He hadn't waited long before a lady clad in chain mail and carrying a set of sheathed wrist-claws with a shield on her back came to see him.
"Ho weary child of Zakarum! You are no doubt weary from your journey! Please follow me to one of the vacant tents. If you wish you can make yourself known to everyone at the camp today, or wait until tomorrow."
Aurthor sighed, and then followed the woman. When she showed him the room, there wasn't much he felt like doing. After taking off his armor, and laying his weapons down by the armor itself, he voluntarily crashed onto the cot that was the bed. It would have been more proper to introduce himself before zonking out on the bed, but he had to admit that tomorrow was another day. The package wouldn't move, so he didn't have to, either.
Night had fallen slowly on the Zann Esu sorceress camp, and even then the place seemed to be filled with an eerie supernatural light. This light gave Faust plenty of time to look over the tome he had been given, but what he found was very astonishing! The book itself was an aged, but still quite legible tome of necromancy!! This strange book, which Faust had seen many versions of in his father's tower, was filled with the secret arts, rituals, and techniques of the priesthood, down to the very most devastating spell! What was a potential threat like a Zann Esu sorceress clan doing with such a hallowed tome of knowledge? And furthermore, how would they "train" Faust using its methods? Did they plan to teach him his own art? That didn't seem possible-- The Zann Esu didn't dabble in the ways of Rathma.
Regardless, Faust read on. He read past the Den'Trag and the Armor spell, he had already mastered those. He had dabbled in poisons himself, as well as summons and hadn't found them much to his liking. His only contention to the summoning art was that it would allow him to eventually raise the dead, albeit a shadow of them, so he would give them some thought. However, his true passion lay in wielding the ethereal energies of the magical plain. He saw a multitude of spells in front of him, but none could he see that he was ready to master. He tried forming a Talon of Trang'Oul, the spear like spell that his father had pinned his arm with, but he was only able to get a Den'Trag sized projectile. Sure, it was more dense and powerful than the Teeth of the Dragon themselves, but he couldn't propel it using the magical force the text alluded to. He would need more magical training.
He turned then to the summoning section. His cousin Raeson probably lived by this part of the tome. Mages and regular skeletons were not a problem to produce, even though Faust himself could only produce one or two of each, and his weren't particularly fearsome the way Raeson's were. Raeson had obviously delved into the Mastery of these skeletons more than Faust had, but that wasn't important in the necromancer's mind. As far as summoning was concerned, making something from nothing was a much more promising endeavor. Faust had been able to make a golem like object out of the dirt and mud of the earth, and that was something Raeson hadn't shown yet, so that was promising. Faust was now quickly struck with an idea, but dismayed as he saw that his cell was plated firmly in brick and mortar, no mud or dirt to be seen. Faust flipped through the pages, and after reading some more was quietly pleased. There was no dirt, but the bars of the cell just happened to be made of iron...
Blood, sweat, but no tears covered the paladin's body as he converged among the camp. He had heard of a gathering against the growing evil of the world, and the elders of his weakened religion had bid him to seek out the Zann Esu camps near here to lend his assistance. Both he and the elders could sense that something big was coming on the horizon, and they knew that help would be needed. He had traveled a short distance from his homeland of Kurast, but the road was treacherous, for it seemed that the minions of Hell could not stay away from the temples of the Zakarum. Now it was time for the paladins of Zakarum to fulfill the call they had ignored ten years ago... Hopefully, the package, which bobbed rhythmically against his thigh, would be enough to prove his worth.
The assassin Ilfe sat, poised and hidden in her guard post on top of the cell roof. The prisoner she guarded now and had guarded earlier today was obviously very important to the sorceresses that ran this camp, for he was under very tight security. Unlike the other prisoners, this one was put under the charge of two Viz-Jaaq'Tar guards like Ilfe and her superior, Quirrari. Things had been crazy ever since trouble was reported in the Isles of the Warrior Women, and now the great mage clans were gathering again, but whether or not they were facing an evil or just panicking from the leftovers of the Hell Days had yet to be seen. If Ilfe had recalled, however, there were still two of the Lesser Evils around that were willing and able to cause chaos in order avenge their Prime Evil brethren. Azmodan and Belial still ravaged the world of the living, but their exploits were just now coming to light.
In a few minutes, she started detecting a movement from outside the camp... Something was coming this way. However, what she didn't detect was the presence of Quirrari, who happened to appear by her side as if she came out of thin air. Ilfe was startled, yes, but she knew enough from her teachings now that she couldn't flinch. Her superior looked at her with a grim look, so Ilfe knew that something was up. Slowly she turned her head to face her elder, who spoke to her in a terse manner.
"We have a visitor coming, I have seen him while I was on my reconnaissance mission ... A paladin from Zakarum."
"That's nice. What does it have to do with anything?"
"He's very strong... Almost as strong as me, I measure. He would have to be, because I think he saw me.. He has a certain aura about him too... It's strange."
"Permission to opinionate, ma'am."
"I already know what you are going to say, and I know that they have deities that lend them special spiritual fields that alter their aura, but this is different. He's probably going to present his services to the Elders, tonight."
"I have a charge to watch."
"Very well."
The area where her teacher and superior officer had been sitting was suddenly cloaked in a stark darkness, and soon Quirarri began to fade away, and then she was gone. Now alone, Ilfe sighed to herself. She too had felt the 'aura' that her teacher had talked about, and she had to admit that it was something strange. She didn't feel to comfortable about it either. Now thinking back to her charge, she realized that he had been quiet. She had seen the sorceress Erias, the youngest Elder of the Zann Esu, go into his cell earlier to deliver some food and some other object, of whose nature Ilfe couldn't have been sure. To check up on him, she placed her ear to the roof of the cell, and she began to hear the sounds he was making. Just the gentle flip, flip, flip... He was reading a book. Impatiently Ilfe sat and retained her guard position. For some reason, he annoyed her. She let out a sigh; something was up with this priest and she would find out.
Aurthor slowly walked into the temporary camp of the Zann Esu. Now the heavy plate armor that he normally wore with such ease was taxing him greatly, and his sword almost touched the ground as he held it, unsheathed in case he met any danger on the way over to the camp. Not only was his equipment taxing, but so was the special...parcel he carried on his person. When he entered the camp he figured that it would be safe enough to give up his defenses, so he sheathed his longsword, which was said to contain the very plague of Hell, but propped up the Tower shield that was inherent to his house of paladins, for it had been passed down ever since the original wielder had been made famous. He hadn't waited long before a lady clad in chain mail and carrying a set of sheathed wrist-claws with a shield on her back came to see him.
"Ho weary child of Zakarum! You are no doubt weary from your journey! Please follow me to one of the vacant tents. If you wish you can make yourself known to everyone at the camp today, or wait until tomorrow."
Aurthor sighed, and then followed the woman. When she showed him the room, there wasn't much he felt like doing. After taking off his armor, and laying his weapons down by the armor itself, he voluntarily crashed onto the cot that was the bed. It would have been more proper to introduce himself before zonking out on the bed, but he had to admit that tomorrow was another day. The package wouldn't move, so he didn't have to, either.