Steve awoke to find a voluptuous woman standing guard over him. She seemed familiar somehow. "Do you remember me?" The woman asked. Steve gave her a blank look. Something hit him on the head. "How about now?" Steve decided to bide for time. "I think you are a woman." The woman gave a playful smile. Another hit on his head sent him into the darkness.
An indeterminable length of time later, Steve awoke with memories of a strange woman beating him with a trout. Not recognizing the area he was in, he made a mad dash out of the dwelling. Once outside, he realized that he was in some sort of fortified village of sorts. Not wasting time, he ran out of the encampment, into the night. Steve did not notice that his footsteps were being echoed.
"I have no idea where he went priestess. His golem was missing too… Poor Steve, I wonder where he is now." Amplissa sighed. Akara's stern face softened. She knew that at heart Amplissa was just an innocent little girl, despite being nineteen summers old. "Very well… Though your tale of him slaying the former blacksmith of Tristram is incredulous, you have brought me my Cain… I mean our Cain, the storyteller Cain back. Yes, Cain the storyteller. Here's your reward. This ring was given to me by ahh… someone you probably don't know. Now go! Cain and I have some catching up to do… Strictly personal… I mean strictly business. Away with you!"
Amplissa wore the ring around her index finger and pranced about admiring the way it reflects light. The azure ornament radiate an aura of coldness, which was oddly pleasant. She was about to reenter Akara's tent to give her thanks for such a magnificent gift but was stopped short by some muffled sounds inside. The priestess had told her before dismissing her that any weird sounds that emanated from her quarters meant that she was hard at work casting spells. "Mmm that felt good! Cain you naughty boy!" Amplissa scratched her head. "Must have been a really good spell they are casting," though she had no idea how a spell could be considered naughty.
Rayna was terminally bored. Her wonderful paladin which was her primary eye candy was nowhere in sight. Even Steve was gone though no one could even begin to guess where their eccentric hero was going, if he actually had a destination in mind and not just wandering the countryside. Amplissa who was beside her humming a discordant tune had shown her the pretty ring, but Rayna allowed her to keep it. She had always thought of Lisa as her sister. With nothing to occupy her, her mind drifted towards thinking about her favourite subject. The paladin Tristan would surely have died from shock if he were to learn about Rayna's fantasies. "Poor Steve. I hope he's alright…" Amplissa lamented for the tenth time.
Meanwhile, Steve was having a great time. He had spent almost an entire day without someone trying to kill him. He had also acquired some mushrooms along the way which he had wisely stored inside his improvised bag made of a stick and some cloth.
He had no idea where he was nor any clue about which direction he was traveling.
Which was perfectly fine with him. He couldn't care less. As long as he was traveling away from those frightening bow-wielding female warriors, he was contented. A sliver of doubt entered his thoughts but he brushed it away. After all, the warrior whose name he had forgotten assured him that there would be no more demons before he forced the pointy red thing into his head. Not a very smart thing to do of course, but then again these hero types were all insane.
Something tapped his shoulders. Whirling around whilst simultaneously screaming 'Flee you fool I'm a mighty sorcerer!' in a dozen languages, he was amazed to see the earthy creature so close to him. For a change, Steve felt strangely comforted by the clay entity. Several veins in his legendary (legendary because like all legends its existence is questionable) brain twitched and a brief spasm wrecked his body. Blood trickled down his nose. He could suddenly remember that this thing was actually his guardian, though he was unsure how he had acquired it.
Pulp placed a hand on his master's shoulder. A turquoise glow enveloped both of them. A ripple of azure mist flowed from master to servant. The soil around Pulp's feet seemed to liquidize and defying common sense, made its way up to Pulp's chest, solidifying when it reached those places in Pulp's frame where he had sustained the most damage. In an artificial heartbeat, Pulp was completely healed. The beautiful colours subsided.
Steve felt drained by the experience, as if a part of his strength was lost. But it was not physical strength, for he felt quite vigorous. No, it was something infinitely more subtle. Not understanding any of it, he shrugged. Steve then noticed something in the golem's other hand. It seemed to be a tome of sorts. Pulp handed it over and made it clear that Steve should take it.
"Hmm… The Compiled Works Of Perv… Topics include: Necromancy, Demonologics, The joy of self-torture and advanced mathematics…" Steve wasn't convinced that learning more about the romantic side of necks was useful and it was only logical that demons were never logical. He had never heard about this so called 'mathematics' before, but it doesn't sound too good especially since it seemed to be related to self-torture. Maybe it had something to do with madder side of magic. This Perv was probably someone with too much time on his hands.
Sitting under a slender pine tree, he flipped to the first page. A highlighted passage captured his gaze. 'Only one with immense natural flair is able to perform even a simple necromantic spell, for it takes discipline to weave the magics. The first spell the acolytes of Rathma are taught is the Teeth Of Tragoul.' The rest of the text describes the long hours of study and meditation required to prepare for this spell until mastery was attained. The actual process was explained in detail near the end.
Steve threw the book away on the general principle that summoning weird characters with unpronounceable names was a sure way to end one's life. He felt much better after having done that. The golem managed to convey a look of reproof at his actions. That was quite a feat considering that it had no face.
It was at this point that Steve's keen survival instincts came to his rescue. Feeling the whisper of a wind to his neck, he leapt forward. Pulp grabbed his master before he could fall and punched the air that had attacked him. The concealed wraiths revealed themselves. There were about a dozen of them, each one barely visible unless one strained one's eyes. Pulp started with an overhead chop of his hand, but these opponents were extremely agile and could shift their forms at will.
One of them passed its ethereal claws through Steve's chest. The effect was immediate. He felt both his spirit and lifeforce ebbing away. Seeing that Pulp could not protect him from all of them, Steve decided to run away. Of course, his feet had already made that decision long ago, his mind was just doing the formality. Somehow, two of the mist-like entities had pursued him and he was left to his own devices. Pulp was just too far away to offer any real assistance. Remembering Tragoul, he thought he had nothing to lose by trying. He muttered the brief incantation he read in the tome.
The real world disappeared! In its place, was a cavernous room. It was mostly empty except for two chairs and a table. Steve was sitting in one of those said chairs. The other was occupied by a large bipedal being. It was hard to see its features but Steve guessed that it was Tragoul, from its shirt which proudly proclaimed 'I love Tragoul'.
"It makes me seem less intimidating." It said in a booming voice. Steve sighed. So this was hell, stuck for eternity in an empty place with a mad lizard for company. The lizard thing made a gagging sound. "No you're not dead yet. I am not a mad lizard! And yes I know who you are and why you're here. The incantation serves only to bring you here. I will now infuse you with the knowledge to cast the teeth spell because you amuse me greatly mortal. Lastly, no those teeth are NOT my real teeth." A plethora of images and concepts entered Steve's mind, leaving him breathless. The lizard thing made a dismissive gesture and the room dissipated.
Reality came rushing back to Steve's senses. It was a testament to his ability that his legs had kept on running and evading the wraiths even as he had his little chat with Tragoul. Somehow, his legs did not need the help of his eyes to see. At any rate, the wraiths were still just a few feet away behind him. A wraith suddenly appeared in front of him. He tried to shield himself with his hands, but what emerged was a dozen trails of teeth-like projectiles. The undead cried in anguish before fading to dust. The wraiths chasing him were distracted from the raw burst of magic and thus fell prey to Pulp's spectacular dive. Nothing remained of them, not even dust.
Steve hastily glanced about but it was clear that Pulp had successfully dispatched the rest of the floating things. The golem had even retrieved his book for him. However, Steve did not quite like the smug expression on Pulp's face. He let loose a generous string of expletives at no one in particular. A slight reddish taint appeared on every plant around him. At this point, Steve thought that running was a good idea.
The huge building in the distant horizon seemed to be a good place to go. After all, everyone knew that monasteries were holy places.