(I do not own LoK)

EWODEN

CHAPTER 4: Vorador's mansion

The Wraith Armour had been intended for Someone with a great deal more muscle mass than the former Sarafan, but after a good deal of effort it was made to fit. The armour was jet black and smooth, icy cold to the touch, hardly anything like the rough, fur lined armour handed to him by the Order. Underneath the large metal plates was a dark chain mail as black as the armour itself.

On the outer side of each leg was a series of leather straps, all of which were holding the petal plates to his leg.

"The Armour was made from a Wraith Forge, making it over twice as durable as regular Iron." Vorador explained as Ewoden tested it's flexibility. "I must warn you though, it's defence comes with a price." The human looked up sceptically. "It's enchantments divides the damage done to you by aggressors between your physical health and that of you Mana reserves. Those are depleted however, it will tax your very soul."

"My soul?" Ewoden asked.

"Have you ever seen what happens to those who have their soul weakened?" The ancient vampire asked. Ewoden shook his head. "Their minds disappear in an instant and they are reduced to gibbering insanity. Believe me, that is a fate you do not which to meet." Ewoden hesitated, looking down at the armour; a faint mixture of horror and dread dawning on his face. "Avoid fights if you can, but if you have to battle; make the fights as short as possible." Ewoden knew that he needed this armour. If Vorador was right, it would lead him directly to the Scion of Balance. However, the notion of being drained of his very essence during a fight did not appeal to him very much.

"So… how do I…" He began, un sure of how to ask how to make it work without being made to look foolish.

"Did Janos teach you a translocation spell?" Vorador asked. The former Sarafan nodded. "The Armour had a small Mana reserve of it's own, connect yours with it and try to teleport."

"Where to?"

"That doesn't matter. As the Armour was intended for the Scion of Balance, it will interrupt the spell destination and take you to his immediate location." Ewoden hesitated, wondering for a moment if this was a good idea. "If indeed the Scion dose exist." Vorador began again with a grim smile. "What do you intend to do when and if you meet him?" The former Sarafan suddenly looked puzzled. If he was honest, he would admit that he hadn't thought that far ahead yet. Vorador paused, before a humoured smiled spread over his lips. "Perhaps you should think about that over the night."

Ewoden took his advice and turned to his rooms with the armour. It was incredibly late by the time he made it to his bed and even then he didn't go to sleep. Instead he lay there thinking. He had undertaken this quest rather spontaneously, without leaving time to think ahead. If the Armour worked, there was no going back and he had to have at least the rough outline of a plan before even attempting it. Whatever form a plan may take, he doubted it would be simple.

Then again Ewoden's life had never been simple. For most of his youth he had been a slave in the mines of Wilendorf, retrieving the precious materials from the ground then when he passed eighteen he was bought by the Time Streamer Moebius along with many other slaves to become part of the Sarafan order. At their stronghold, Ewoden had mastered many forms of weaponry including the Axe and the bow.

His heart had never been in their crusade through. He couldn't carry on killing vampires, not in good conscience. They looked too human for it.

So he deserted and escaped the order in a place called Avernus. There he was chased by a demon into the surrounding forest, before eventually killing the monster in the depths of the swamp. There he would have drowned in quicksand where it not for the aid of Vorador, who saved him from certain death.

Vorador introduced him to Sally, one of his servants. She had taken to Ewoden at once and he would be lying if he said he didn't return the affection. Perhaps it was love, perhaps it was only infatuation. Either way, the two of them were found of each other and Ewoden wasn't about to question her friendly company.

Vorador had taken the two of them to study magic and arcane science under his Sire, the infamous Janos Audron. There they stayed for many years, learning a few of the secrets of the Ancient Vampires. Ewoden's life with the ancient however were soon brought to an end when the Sarafan inquisitors stormed his retreat, used Lord Moebius' staff to disable him before their leader; Raziel carved out his heart.

It was this relic they retreated with and dubbed it, the Heart of Darkness.

His life with Janos had been the closet thing he had that had ever some to a home and the Sarafan tore it away from him. If there was even a fraction of hope that the Scion of Balance could put everything right again then Ewoden had to at least try and help.

His door creaked open a little. The former Sarafan looked up briefly but saw no one there. Only a faint pillar of light lancing through the crack in the doorway. Almost a moment later, he left something slid next to him, lying against his back on the other side of the bed. It was her, those black eyes seemed to glow brightly in the darkness. He did not protest her presence, if anything it was soothing.

As the sun began to peek over the tops of the trees, Ewoden reached out and closed the curtains magically before it's rays could fall upon her skin.

"I'm coming with you." Sally stated flatly, her tone leaving absolutely no room for any sort of argument. Ewoden made no attempt to either. In truth, he would most welcome her company. He didn't bother to point out that she didn't know what she was getting herself into; because he didn't either but he was still going; so there was little reason why she shouldn't. She was after all physically superior to him in many ways.

As if she was hesitant to continue, she looked away from him for a second; her dark eyes plain with indecision. After a moment of silence she looked back. "Do you know what the Whisper is Ewoden?" The former Sarafan hesitated. He had heard Vorador and Janos mention it briefly but had admittedly dismissed it as not important.

"Er, no." He admitted rather sheepishly. The female vampire smiled at him.

"It's a form of telepathy. It allows social groups of vampires to keep in touch over great distances. Traditionally it's something for kin alone." She traced a soft hand over his face. "But I'd like to share it you."

"Me?" The former Sarafan repeated looked confused. She nodded.

"As you are human, our link with be between the two of us only." Her smile widened, nearly making his heart bleed. "What do you say Sarafan Knight?" Ewoden actually found the idea tempting, but some part of him; perhaps the natural human fear of the unknown trembled. "Not scared are you?" She asked him coyly, a seductive smirk on her face.

He didn't have to answer. Slowly she laidher slender fingers on each on his forehead and began humming, a soft tune that instantly put into his head images of distant mountain tops; cold air lifting loose snowflakes into the ether, thin sunlight gently reflecting off canopies of white. Before he could question the origin of these images; it felt like something melted away and then there she was, inside him. No wait, as a apart of him. No longer separate. It was hard for Ewoden to put into words, but it felt like a bridge between them had suddenly just sprung into being. "That wasn't so bad was it?" She asked him, but not with her lips; a message sent directly from her mind into his. So new was it that he recoiled at the first touch.

Slowly his defences began to lessen and finally he began enjoying that new link. The former Sarafan had always been alone. He had had no friends or family in the slave mines, and little to no comradeship to speak of in the Order. Sally was the first person he had never had strong emotions for and through the Whisper, he couldn't help letting all those emotions slip through to her.

"You share this with all the vampires?" He asked out load as if to divert the discussion of their private conversation.

"Well, no." She admitted with a smirk. "We only use the Whisper to send messages, thought words; I pushed it a little further with you." He could sense what she meant by that. He could actually taste her emotions. It was almost like a powerful strong sauce with an after bite that burned slowly. "Not disappointed with it are you?"

Vorador was waiting for them both by the time they had gotten up inside the largest of the libraries, the one with a spectacular view of the towering Avernus Cathedral in the distance. A few of his servants had gathered on the upper balconies to watch, interested in what might occur here. They had all seen Vorador's trophies room but had had little excuse to see any of them in action.

The Ancient Vampire did not seen too surprised by the fact that Sally had chosen to accompany him. Nor the fact that she had decided to share the Whisper with him.

She had desperately wanted to go with him was Ewoden wandered aimlessly west through Nosgoth, but Vorador would not permit her. She could not withstand the light of day yet. She seemed to have taken some precautions at least with a thick cloak and hood. Still, he worried for her mental state. Ewoden was human and mortal, he could die in battle and if not then; then the slow decay of eons would render him a very old man while she remained young.

A good deal of supplies had been stuffed into Ewoden's bag as a new set of furs readied for him for use underneath the wraith armour. All of which were sitting at the foot of Vorador's seat next to a fire place.

"Whatever quest you embark on now I wish you the best of luck with." Was his near disapproving sentiment. "But, I'm afraid it is probably doomed to failure." Ewoden didn't answer. Instead he concentrated on equipping himself with first his furs and then the armour itself and finally the Two Axes Havoc and Malice strapped in an 'X' across his back. Sally took the bag, before pulling the hood back over her head. "If the armour even works." Vorador added, looking up briefly.

The teachings of Janos passed briefly through the former Sarafan's mind as he remembered how the Ancient had taught him a standard teleportation spell called Translocation. It was one of the techniques the vampires had employed heavily in their wars against the Hylden, allowing them to move great armies across large distances quickly. The Hylden had had their own means of transportation which were much more complex than theirs.

First, he reached into his reserve of Mana. Everyone had Mana, some more than others. It was life force energy in it's rawest form, which through mental discipline and training could be focused and controlled.

Extending the control of the spell to include the female vampire beside him, Ewoden connected his own magic with that he could feel within the Wraith Armour. A entrapped force of magic that hadn't been used for an eon and it awoke with a start, mingling with his own Mana; connected to him in a way that made him tingle involuntarily.

If Vorador was right, the next part would do itself. He paused to take a deep breath. After this point there was no going back. Not that he had anything else to do. He cast the spell with no emergence point and just as Vorador said, the armour did the rest. It took hold of the uncompleted spell and finished itself, the thick white mist of a Translocation spell clouding the library; engulfing the two of them; hiding them from eve the keen eyes of Vorador.

Once it had cleared, they were gone.