A bond of ill fate

To view this page ensure that Adobe Flash Player version 9.0.124 or greater is installed.

Please login or register to make a comment!

1 A Bond of Ill-Fate By Rob Chandler Rylus stirred the pot over the camp fire watching the bubbles form in the water as it came to a boil. He removed the salted strips of rabbit flesh from his pouch, unwrapped them, and threw them into the stew. The water hissed as each strip fell into the pot.

After stirring it and taking in the aroma of his evening meal, Rylus scooted back against the nearby tree. He glanced over at the giant of a man named Dravex who sat on the tree stump sharpening his broadsword. Dravex's eyes went from the whetstone and back over to Rylus with each pass of the blade.

Dravex must have been 19 hands high, Rylus thought. His arms were as big as Rylus' legs. The warrior kept his beard cropped short and his head bald.

If given the opportunity the giant could disembowel Rylus without even breaking a sweat. Indeed, Verys couldn't have sent a more able overseer for his mission. After a few minutes Rylus went over to the fire and removed the pot.

He took out a small bowl from his pack ... more. less.

and dipped some of the rabbit stew. cSure you won't be having any of this, my friend? d Rylus asked the warrior. Dravex said nothing, still passing the blade over the stone in his hands. cSuit yourself, d Rylus said, eating his concoction. He knew the man would refuse. The two sat in silence save for the soft ringing of the blade on the stone, and the occasional crackle from the fire as it started to dwindle. Over the past four days Rylus had led the two of them on a wild goose chase through the forests and hills that surrounded the city of Highmarch. As the two had climbed hill after hill and paraded through the wilderness, Dravex had barely uttered more than a couple of words. Rylus could sense the mounting brute's frustrations with him however. Perhaps Verys should have taken the time to hire a local rather than this bumbling southerner, Rylus pondered. But he knew the reason behind Verys' choice to hire the giant to accompany him; it was insurance. Dravex was probably certain they were lost, and was likely debating his next move, Rylus deduced. The ruse was working. Rylus knew exactly where they were going and how long it would take to get to the cultists' camp, but four days wandering through the wilderness had given him plenty of time to measure up Dravex. 2 Despite the man's silence, Rylus had already learned a lot about his reluctant companion. The brand on his shoulder, that of a halberd with two roses on either side, which stayed half hidden under the studded leather tunic gave him away as a soldier. That was the symbol of the Lord of the Grey Moors, who had perished five years ago fighting off the armies of the emperor. Rylus knew this man was an expert with that blade, but he was also a renegade. Like all who served in the armies of Coranthya, when the emperor defeated them, they either fled and went into hiding, or they turned their allegiance to him. Dravex had obviously chosen the former. Rylus also understood Dravex was a man devoted to his duty, whatever that duty may be. He was a soldier first and foremost and although he wouldn't fight under the banner of the emperor by choice, he was a man who had carved out his living with the tip of his blade. Dravex, like many other renegade soldiers, had taken up making his way however his blade would allow, even if that meant killing a man he barely knew for a reason which wasn't clear to him. And that was just what Dravex was going to do when the time was right. Rylus also knew how this would end for he believed in controlling his own destiny. He would not be able to defeat Dravex in single combat. No, in order to defeat the giant, he would have to use his wits and wait for the right moment before making his move. He smiled to himself as he savored the rabbit stew. That right moment was about to present itself. After a few minutes, Dravex put down his sword and whetstone. Letting out a grunting sigh, he reached into his own pouch and pulled out a strip of dried pork. Still staring at Rylus he tore off a chunk of the meat and started chewing. Rylus put down his bowl and sat up against the tree. Dravex let out a small cough and shook his head. Rylus' smile widened. The cough got louder, and Dravex hit his fist against his chest. He fell from the stump to one knee and Rylus rose feigning concern on his face. The other knee fell, and Dravex clenched his throat. A firery rage gleamed in his eye as he reached out for Rylus with one hand. Rylus jumped back and the brute fell face first onto the dirt. Dravex wriggled back and forth on the ground at first, but within seconds he was motionless. The brute moved his head to the side unable to see Rylus and spit the dirt out of his mouth. Rylus walked over to the warrior and flipped him over with his foot. Dravex coughed and sputtered nearly choking on the combination 3 of soil and spit. cWell, well, my giant friend, d Rylus sat down on the stump which the giant had occupied. cIt seems you've found yourself in quite a predicament. d cI'll gut you, you coward! d The giant yelled back as he fought with his own muscles trying to force them to move. It was useless though. The paralysis from the poisoned meat had already set in. cI wouldn't bother with that, d Rylus smiled as he picked up the giant's broadsword. cThis is quite a blade you've got here. How many of the emperor's men did you slay before you tucked your tail and ran into hiding? d The giant was slack-jawed and speechless. cAnd you would call me a coward? d Rylus chuckled. cYou are a simple man, Dravex. I admire that about you, I really do. A man who adheres to his own code. A man of duty. d Dravex didn't remove his gaze, yet remained silent. cSo, when Verys paid you to accompany me to the camp and steal the amulet he gave you one simple duty, d Rylus held up the blade, the remaining glow of the campfire flickering against it's edges. cUse this very blade to kill me and return the amulet to him yourself. d After a pause, Dravex spit. cWell, I guess you've got it all figured out. d cI do, I suppose, d Rylus hesitated. cAll except the part where you kill Verys yourself and flee Highmarch with the amulet. d Dravex looked dumbfounded. cNo, that wasn't in your plans? d Rylus mocked. cYou didn't really think Verys would allow you to walk away so easily did you? If he was so willing to have me disposed after my part of this was complete, what makes you think you'd be any different? d Dravex grimaced realizing he'd been made out to be a fool by everyone involved in this endeavor. cYes, a simple man indeed, d Rylus smiled. cReceive task, complete task, receive payment. That's how it works isn't it? At least, that's how it worked when you served the lord of Rivermeet. d 4 Rylus moved with a blur holding the blade's tip to the giant's throat. cUnfortunately for you, simple men don't last very long when dealing with the underworld of Highmarch. d cYou've got it all figured, d the giant muttered between clenched teeth. cGet it over with already. d cWhat did I tell you about being simple? d Rylus withdrew the blade. cThe poison flowing through your veins will keep you paralyzed for another few hours. That's plenty long enough for the wolves to tear you apart slowly while you watch...and scream. d Horror overcame Dravex's face. cBut I can make this quick and as painless as possible if you simply tell me what I need to know, d Rylus tapped the blade back and forth in his gloved hand. cWhat then? d The warrior asked. cWhen and where were you to meet Verys upon your return to the city? d cY-you're a bargaining man aren't you? d Dravex pleaded. cWe can work something out. You don't have to do this. d Rylus moved the blade over his gut. cYou can either die as painless as possible or be fodder for wolves, makes no difference to me, but make no mistake, you are going to die tonight, Dravex. The choice is yours, but I warn you, my patience is thin. d cI suppose I shoulda seen this coming, d Dravex coughed and started to laugh. cAll I've ever been is a soldier. I fought other men on the field of battle face-to-face, blade against blade. This back-alley dealing ain't really my arena. Guess I got in too deep. d cYes, I guess you did, d Rylus almost felt pity for the man. cI shouldn't have to die like this. I should have died by Lord Halfort's side all those years ago. Instead I die at the hands of a petty rogue who don't know the first thing about honor and duty. d cHonor and duty have no place in the world in which I live, Dravex, d Rylus spat. cThey exist only in the tales of old maids and wet nurses. d 5 cI was a knight you know? d Dravex laughed. cA knight? Well, d Rylus tilted his head and scratched his black goatee. cCan't say I've ever killed a knight before. d cYeah well, first time for everything right? d cIndeed, d Rylus snapped back realizing the brute was trying to play his emotions. cNow, back to the question. Where were you going to meet Verys and when? d cUnder the Spotted Wyvern Tavern, d Dravex coughed again. cIn the catacombs, three nights from now. Two hours after dusk. d cYou wouldn't be lying to me now would you? d cWhy would I lie? d Dravex raised his head. Rylus nodded. cWell then, a promise is a promise. d He said as he raised the blade over Dravex's chest. cWait! d Dravex yelled, but it was too late. Rylus plunged the sword into the man's heart. He sputtered for a few seconds before a tiny bit of blood trickled down from the corner of his mouth. The life faded from his eyes as he gave up the ghost. Rylus threw down the broadsword on top of the giant's lifeless body. He grabbed the pot of stew and threw it on the fire, dousing it. Taking only the necessities, he prepared to leave. The cultists' camp was only a few hours away. He could make it in and out and be halfway back to Highmarch before they ever knew he'd been there. He gave one last look at the dead warrior behind him. May the gods be with you, Dravex. He turned and headed off through the forest, and into the night. 2 Moonlight filtered through the canopy above as Rylus moved through the forest. The woods were silent save for the occasional call of an owl, or howl of a wolf. The quiet gave Rylus ample opportunity to think as he moved along towards the cultists' camp. His mind wandered to Dravex and the path that led him to die at the hands of, as he had put it, a petty rogue. Dravex had claimed to be a knight. He imagined the man adorned in armor fighting alongside a highborn lord. That was a far cry from traveling as a mercenary warrior with a thief through the wilderness in a foreign land. The paths that life takes are often unpredictable, he thought. 6 Rylus didn't want to kill the man, but he knew it was his only choice. He couldn't risk his own life by letting the man walk away. In his mind he saw Dravex riding away back to the southlands to redeem himself as the knight he once was. The reality was far different. He would have come after Rylus because that's what he was paid to do. A man of duty until the end. The glow of a campfire a mere two hundred yards away nearly caught the shrewd rogue off his guard. Get yourself together, he thought. There was much work yet to be done and the night was still very young. Rylus approached the glow of the camp without making a sound. Darting from tree to tree to avoid being seen, he made his way to the edge of the campsite. He got down on his belly and edged his way closer to the ridge line. The camp itself was some twenty feet below in a small clearing. This gave Rylus an advantageous position to view the entire camp. There were eight tents in all. The largest was near the middle of the camp. It was ornate in its design; adorned with various prints like some sort of majestic tapestry. It was like something one might find in the hall of a king, or lord's keep. He saw various people moving about the camp. They were dressed in red and brown robes. Their long black hair they kept pulled back in a braid. If not for their size Rylus wouldn't be able to discern one from another. The larger ones carried big curved blades at their sides, and wore armor made of cured leather. He laid on his stomach at the ridge observing for quite some time, formulating his plan. If Rylus had to place a bet on which tent held the amulet he would place his money on the giant ornate one. He hadn't seen anyone come in or go out of that tent the entire time. There were two guards at either side of the entrance, both armed with those curved swords, their arms crossed. What, or who might be inside that tent he didn't know. After a few moments, he smirked. He had his plan. 3 The thief made his way down the side of the ridge slowly, clinging to the edge. It was a steep drop, but he was nimble enough to slide down without drawing attention to himself. At the bottom of the ridge he ducked behind a tree and paused for a moment. There were no sounds from the camp behind him. Nothing to acknowledge he'd been detected. He turned, still leaning against the fir tree and 7 slowly peeked around its side. The camp was a mere twenty paces away. Directly ahead of him was the back of a smaller tent on the edge of the campsite. There was the glow of a lantern coming from within the tent, but he could see no movement. He slid around the edge of the tree and darted over to the tent, crouching. He slid his dagger from its sheath and carefully punctured the wall of the tent. He withdrew his blade and placed his eye against the hole he'd created peering in. He could see a small table in the center of the tent, along with a small cot on the side. Although the angle of the peephole made it difficult to see, he was certain there was a man on the cot. He watched for a few moments longer and listened. He could vaguely hear the sound, but he recognized it 4 snoring. Rylus took the dagger and cut two of the ropes used to secure the tent providing him just enough slack to crawl under the tent's wall and inside. The cultist in the cot stirred, but did not wake. After a few moments the snoring continued. He eased out the dagger and slowly crawled over to the cot. In one motion he covered the man's mouth and slit his throat. Blood poured from the man's neck as he struggled. Rylus, still covering the man's mouth, bared down on him from above. Within seconds the man's movements ceased and his eyes rolled back in his head. Rylus tore a piece of the man's robes with his dagger. He gathered up some of the straw on the floor of the tent and piled it on the ground at the end of the table. He laid the torn robe down on the pile and stretched it over to the edge of the tent. He grabbed the rope from his pack and tied an end of it onto the lantern, placing it at the edge of the table. He crawled out of the tent the same way he'd come in, carrying the length of rope behind him. Outside of the camp now he ran back to the tree. He paused for a moment, hoping no one had noticed his movements. He peered back around the tree, one end of the rope in his hand, the other tied to the base of the lantern in the tent. The camp was still quiet. That was about to change, or so he hoped. Rylus closed his eyes and pulled hard on the rope. Oh by the gods, let this work. 4 Rylus sat with his back against the tree, his eyes still closed. Then he smelled the smoke. Glancing around the tree, he saw the fire starting in the tent. Within seconds the fire moved up the torn robe 8 and onto the tent itself. This was his one and only chance. He dropped the rope and moved along the outskirts of the camp. Voices rose as the cultists scurried about the encampment. The fire was raging now and the smoke billowed throughout the clearing. The cultists ran back and forth shouting and yelling in a language foreign to Rylus. The thief stopped behind another tree and peered into the camp. He could see the back of the ornate tent now. The guards were gone, and he could see no movement from within. He moved up to the closest tent and waited. More cultists ran by with bags and skins filled with water, shouting and cursing. He moved around and glanced to either side, then fell behind the large ornate tent. Time was working against him now. It wouldn't be long before the cultists knew something was awry, and this was the first place they'd come looking, he was sure of it. There was no noise coming from within, and no sign of movement. There was no time to scout it out now, he had to move. He cut open a hole in the tent, and climbed in. Inside, in the center of the structure, stood a large figure, its back to Rylus. The man was adorned in the same black and red robes and furs as the others. Atop his head was a large golden adornment, and in his right hand he grasped a long staff. The gnarled wood on the staff twisted around itself to the very tip, which formed the head of a demon, its jaws open in a horrible smile. cI know why you have come, thief, d the cultist said, his back still facing Rylus. The voice was unnatural, and echoed around him in a guttural tone. Rylus said nothing, tightening his grip on the dagger. cYou'd better hurry. The guards will be back soon, d the voice spoke again, surrounding him in the tent. Still, the figure did not move. cIt's around my neck. All you have to do is slide that dagger between my ribs, and it's yours for the taking. d Rylus heard a commotion stirring outside. Through the opening he could see shadows moving back and forth, and the voices of the cultists became clearer. His eyes darted back and forth to the opening and the figure in front of him. Sweat beaded upon his brow and trickled down his cheeks. The voices drew closer and closer. Rylus sprang forward and plunged the dagger into the side of the cultist. He didn't shout, but simply fell limp into Rylus' arms. Rylus rolled over the dead man and saw the amulet hanging around his 9 neck. The cut of the large ruby stone at its center was perfect; each facet sparkled even in the dimly lit tent. The gemstone was encircled by a gold design of two dragons, each consuming the tail of the other. For a moment, Rylus found himself lost in its beauty and intricate design. Small wonder Verys would go to such lengths to obtain this, he thought. The voices grew closer. Rylus pulled at the gold chain and threw the amulet into his pouch. He'd been so enamored with the beauty of the thing, he'd hardly noticed its keeper. The dead cultist's eyes were sunken and gray and his cheeks were hollow. Rylus felt the cold of the man's skin and jumped back. If he didn 9t know any better, he 9d say the man had been dead long before the dagger found its mark in his side. Impossible, he thought. The voices were just outside now. He gathered himself, and slid out of the tent. 5 Rylus ran through the forest, leaves and branches cracking under his feet with every step. The voices behind him grew faint and distant, and finally he stopped. Leaning against a tree, he paused for a moment to catch his breath and look back. There was no sign of them behind him. There were no vile foreign curses, or flickers of torchlight bouncing in pursuit. There was only the cold night air and the silence of the woods to keep him company. He closed his eyes again, his mind going back to the encounter in the tent. He 9d heard such tales of sorcery before, of course. There were stories of necromancers and demons that could make the dead walk, but they were only legends. Such magic couldn 9t possibly exist. Even so, Rylus couldn 9t deny what he 9d seen with his own eyes. By the look of him, that priest had been dead for days, maybe even weeks. Then there was the voice. Unnatural in its tone, it was not the voice of any living man. Who were they? What were these foreign zealots doing out in the middle of the forest in the free realms anyway? He hadn 9t thought to ask these questions when he took the job from Verys. Would he have told me regardless? He thought. He had to admit, he didn 9t care to know at first. The musings and practices of some demon cult were not his concern. He only needed to know enough about them to infiltrate their camp, and steal the amulet. Still, the encounter left him curious. 10 He pulled the amulet from the pouch and looked it over once more. Verys had gone to great lengths to obtain this, and he aimed to get answers from the old man. First, he had to get back to the city. He put the jewel away, gathered his bearings, and disappeared into the darkness. 6 The city of Highmarch was bustling with people as Rylus made his way down the winding cobble-stoned streets of the Lowland District. The Lows, they called it. The largest, and by far the most dangerous part of the sprawling metropolis was the nervous center of the city's underworld; a vast and intricate network of thieves and killers. For Rylus, it was simply home. He pulled the cowl of his gray wool cloak closer to his face. He couldn't risk being spotted by one of Verys' cronies. The shadows cast by the street lanterns in the darkness helped conceal his identity as he weaved through the narrow winding roads. He turned down a sharp alleyway, and made his way down the tight passage between the two wooden buildings. He nearly tripped over a man laying in the alley whose feet stretched out before him. The man remained on the ground, motionless. Rylus slowed as he stepped over the man's legs, and proceeded down the alley. Still the man didn't move as Rylus backed away. As terrible as the Lows smelled, a dead body could lay out for nearly a week on the street before anyone noticed. Continuing down the alley he stopped at the top of a stairway that led down to a wooden door. He glanced back over at the man on the ground, and then over his shoulder. He made his way down the stairs and knocked on the door with three light taps. cRylus? d The soft voice whispered from the other side of the door. cZyana, let me in, d he replied. cHurry. d The door creaked open and the thief slid inside. He closed the door behind him and pulled the lock in place. Rylus turned to the woman. Her hair was a black, curly mess. Her brown skin glistened with sweat in the candlelight and she bit her bottom lip smiling at the thief. cAre you working? d Rylus asked. 11 cNot tonight, d she replied looking down. cNot anymore tonight, anyway. d He threw back the cowl of his cloak and grabbed the woman. Pressing her body close, he kissed her. cI need to stay here for a few nights, d he said. cWhy? d She pulled away, eying him suspiciously. d cI can't explain, d he smiled. cIt'll be worth it, I swear. d cI hope you don't mean that thing in your pants, d she scoffed. cBecause I can make a hell of a lot of coin in a few nights, rather than giving it away to you for free. d cNo, d he let her go. cI know I shouldn't, but I assure you I wouldn't ask if I didn't absolutely have to, Zyana. d cHow long do you need? d She asked. cThree nights, d he pulled her in again. cThree nights, and then we can leave this place. We can leave the Lows for good, and never look back. d cI think I've heard that one before, d she rolled her eyes. cThis time it's the real thing, d he smiled and pulled her in for another kiss. He grabbed her legs, picked her up, and threw her down into the straw cot that was her bed. He grabbed her gown and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the ground, and they made love late into the night. This time, it's the real thing . 6 The catacombs that stretched beneath Highmarch's surface served as the final resting place for the city's dead. Vast and winding dark paths carved into the stone where the dead lie in sealed walled tombs. Cobwebs stretched across the narrow walkways and putrid smelling corridors that seemed to bend and turn in such a fashion that made no sense. While the catacombs housed the dead, they also bore another purpose. Slavers, black market goods, and other various forms of the city's underworld flowed through the narrow halls. There were passages leading into the homes of noble lords, many of whom had no idea. There were rumors of unspeakable rituals and ancient dark 12 magics performed in the alcoves and secret rooms which jutted out from the stony maze. A man could lose his mind in the depths below the city. Travel too far, it was told, and you would move beyond the tombs and hallways carved by men, and into the deep and unexplored caves which stretched for miles below the surface of the earth. Worse yet, it was told, you could stumble upon the ghosts of those who called the catacombs their final resting place. Like many scary tales told by hand maids in the light of the hearth, they were merely fables made up to scare nosy little children from wandering into the winding labyrinth and dying of starvation, or worse, encountering one of the rogues that stalked the cold hallways. Those were the true horrors of the catacombs. Rylus had spent many a night weaving in and out of the winding maze. Working for the underworld in Highmarch meant you bent to the will and desire of the Black Rose Guild. For Rylus, there had never been a choice. Born a thief and a vagabond, he did what he could to survive as a child on the streets of the Lows. When he was young, he carelessly attempted to pick-pocket a man who later revealed himself as a guild member. Rylus was given an option; work for the Black Rose, or meet the end of a blade. The choice was easy. But that life will soon be behind me, he thought to himself. Indeed, with the amulet he could become a new man. No longer bound by the slavery of the petty underworld. No more stealing. No more killing. First, he thought, there was one more loose end to tie up. Since his return to Highmarch, Rylus had been careful not to attract attention. For the last three days he 9d been holed up in Zyana 9s hovel of an apartment. The last thing he needed was Verys to think he was still alive. After all, Rylus wasn 9t supposed to return to the city. His fate, according to Verys 9 plan, was to die at the hands of the fallen knight, Dravex, after he robbed the cultists of their prized amulet. The catacombs beneath the Spotted Wyvern, two hours past nightfall. That 9s where the two were to meet. How Dravex would have found his way around the twisting tunnels of the catacombs, he couldn 9t fathom. His best guess was the meeting would never have taken place. Verys likely had his spies watching out for the southerner to return to the city. It was very probable that Verys would have tried to strike at the brute before the meeting took place, taking the amulet with him. Which also meant his spies would have, by now, returned word that there had been no sign of either 13 Dravex or Rylus 9 return. Verys was a mystery to Rylus. When the strange man had approached him about stealing the amulet, he could have guessed this would take an ill turn. Still, he was hard up for money as the guild hadn 9t contacted him for a job in almost a tenday. The opportunity seemed good, and Verys had offered him quite a bit of coin for the job. It wasn 9t until the day they set off that he was told he 9d be accompanied by the warrior, and in turn, realized he wasn 9t supposed to return. Verys was not from Highmarch, that much was clear. He had a dusky complexion, and although he adorned himself in the rags of a commoner, somehow they didn 9t seem natural on him. He seemed like one of the theater actors, dressing for a role, rather than a common man of the city streets. And when he spoke, he had a certain inflection in his voice that revealed a man of scholarly learning rather than that of a rogue urchin, despite the fact that he tried to hide it. The foreigner had also managed to obtain quite a foothold in the city 9s underworld even though he was not a member of the Black Rose. He was obviously a man of some power, so Rylus would have to tread carefully. He wasn 9t about to reach out to the Black Rose for help either. The ruby amulet was far too valuable, and would serve as his ticket away from this hell hole of a city. The Black Rose would simply take the amulet, pay him a stipend, and send him on his way until he could be of use again. No, he would have to handle this Verys character on his own. Thinking that neither of them had returned, he was hoping Verys 9 curiosity would get the best of him and he 9d arrive at their designated meeting spot in the catacombs. Spies could only be trusted as far as the coin would spread, and he was hoping Verys would be suspicious of receiving false information; suspicious enough to show up and see for himself. It was a hunch, but it was all Rylus had. 7 After what seemed like hours of winding through the confusing maze of dusty corridors, he finally arrived at the small alcove underneath the Spotted Wyvern. It was a small room with four paths branching off into various directions. Darkness clung to their hallways like shadowy pits whose bottom seemed to have no known end. The small sconces on the walls of either room were lit, and the flickers of the fading candle light gave the room an eerie orange 14 glow. It was typical for the sconces to be lit prior to a procession and burial in the catacombs. By the look of the candles, these had been burning for many hours, indicating the procession of mourners had long since returned to their normal lives on the surface. Rylus picked one of the corridors and slid along hugging the wall of the dark hallway. Here he would wait in the shadows of the hall for Verys to arrive. He grabbed the pommel of his dagger with his sweating hand and pulled the cowl of his cloak over his head. He waited there, the amulet around his neck, and the blade pressed firmly against his chest, ready to strike out as soon as he had sight of the man. The minutes seemed like hours. Rylus 9 knees shook in nervous anticipation of Verys 9 arrival. In the dark silence of the corridor he heard something very faintly; muffled mutterings which he could not understand. He listened keenly, leaning in towards the open chamber hoping in effort to make out the voice. It never seemed to move closer, but the mutterings continued. He slid further down the wall closer to the chamber, trying to make out the words, but still he could not understand. There was a loud shriek which made Rylus jump in nervous anticipation. The yell filled the hallways around him and nearly brought Rylus to his knees with its otherworldly and unnatural resonance. He clung to the dagger, sweat dripping from his brow in the already stuffy hall. He could feel the walls of the catacombs shaking. Dust and dirt fell from the ceiling of the hallway as the walls shifted. He could hear the footsteps coming down the other hallway; thundering footsteps of something monstrous and giant. Listen to me very carefully, Rylus, a voice rang in his head. Rylus looked around, but there was no one that he could see. The voice he heard was in his mind, but it was not his own. After a moment, he recognized it; the same voice which came from the priest in the tent that night. What manner of evil is this? Rylus thought. Rylus, you must listen and trust me, came the voice again. We haven 9t much time. This thing coming down the hall, it is an elder spirit. It is not of this world, do you understand? Rylus nodded, although to whom he did not know. Look down at your blade, the voice instructed. Rylus looked down and almost threw the dagger to the ground. Where once was steel there was now a shadowy luminescence. The thing 15 was drawing closer, slamming its body against the walls of the corridor. It let out another shriek. Do not be fearful, for I am with you, the voice reassured. Use the shadow blade to kill the creature. It cannot be harmed by anything crafted by man. What sort of sorcery had he stumbled upon in this hall? He had little time now. The thing drew closer. He pulled the dagger in closely, and waited. Within moments the giant creature came roaring into the small round chamber. Rylus stared upon it for an instant in disbelief at what stood before him. This creature was black with a slimy skin which glowed in the faint candle light. Its eyes gleamed a fiery looking red. Within its long snout were rows of razor sharp teeth. A long, black curved horn protruded from its brow. The demon leaned on its twisted legs and shrieked again, this time dropping Rylus to his knee. Quickly, you must act now! Drive the blade into its throat! Rylus staggered to his feet as the creature stood there, looking around for its prey. The thief lunged from the shadowy hallway and rolled underneath the creature 9s gaping maw. It leaned up on its malformed back legs and roared again, the spit from its mouth dripping onto Rylus 9 cloak. He lay there on his back staring up at the creature. It came down to bite him, and he rolled to the side. With a jerk he brought the shadowy dagger over and pierced the demon 9s neck. It lurched and writhed on the ground back and forth shrieking louder than before. It began to smoke and seemingly melt into the floor of the catacomb, leaving nothing behind but a small black charred stain on the ground. Quick, now, move down the hallway, and somehow Rylus knew by instinct which hallway the voice meant. The sorcerer is down this path. He is weakened now by the power of the magic. You must act with haste before he makes his escape. Rylus had a sudden surge of energy run through his veins. Perhaps it was adrenaline, but it was like nothing he 9d ever felt before. He was now in an all out run down the dark hallway. He recognized the folly in this, as he could not see in front of him, yet something drove him on. He rounded a bend in the hallway of the dust filled labyrinth, and saw the man he knew as Verys. He sat on the ground holding 16 himself up by his arms now and encircled in some strange grayish ash. Around him in the circle a mysterious glow faintly illuminated strange markings on the ground; ancient arcane runes used for summoning. Somehow, he recognized this upon sight, despite having never seen such a thing in his life before now. Use the blade! Drive it into his heart! Verys saw him now, and looked over. cYou don 9t&know&what you 9re&doing, d he muttered trying to catch his breath. Do it now before he casts another incantation! With that, Rylus jumped over the ash circle and on top of the man. He sat on top of him, trying to drive the shadowy blade down. Verys held his arm in resistance, gritting his teeth. Unable to hold the thief 9s arm, Rylus overpowered him, driving the shadowy spectral blade into the wizard 9s chest. The mage moaned and gasped trying desperately to cling to life as it escaped him. Now, Rylus felt an incredible surge of energy the likes of which he could not explain. It nearly knocked him back with its power. He withdrew the blade, which had now returned to its normal steel surface. Standing in disbelief at the events, he dropped the dagger to the ground. Who are you? He asked. Who I am is not important, Rylus. You made the choice to take the amulet, and now it is yours. But I don 9t want the damned thing, Rylus thought. I 9m going to sell it and leave this place. Zyana and me, we 9re gonna start a life together. A real life. Does it not pain you to know that even now, she lay in bed with another man? She is a whore, Rylus. She 9s just doing what she has to, Rylus thought. True enough the voice had struck a nerve. He 9d never liked the notion that she gave herself for coin. You will start a new life, Rylus, although it is not the one you had envisioned for yourself. You are the bearer now. You are the ward of the amulet. Rylus leaned against the wall of the corridor and slowly slid to the ground. He looked over at the dead wizard Verys, who was indeed, more than he claimed to be. Was that even his real name? I do not 17 want this burden, he thought. But it is yours to bear nonetheless, the voice replied. And we will do great things together, Rylus. Great things indeed.

less