Streaks of magical energy swirled throughout the large
elaborate room, the myriad sparkle of luminescent colors
casting eerie shadows across the room's decorative tapestries.
The epicenter of the thrilling display stood silently in
the center of the room, her small almond shaped eyes wide
in amazement at the spectacle that danced all around her.
No more than a child by Elven standards, the small girl
could feel the supernatural forces flowing through her young
body, filling her with an exhilaration she could not explain.
The golden brown robes that she wore fluttered loosely around
her small fragile frame while tresses of her shiny dark
hair wisped about wildly by the force of the magic. Her
face painted a picture of a child at play, with a smile
as carefree as her spirit. The young Elven maiden forced
darts of the magical lights into all corners of the chamber,
her thoughts dancing frantically within her young mind,
filling her with visions of faeries and magical mischief.
Extending her left hand outward, a yellow-tinted wave of
the magical energy swept through her body, sending ripples
of the excitement to every inch of her frame. The sensation
was unlike anything she had every felt before and sent small
tingles up and down her arms and legs. She felt a shortness
of breath from the exhilaration and for a short second,
released her control on the blast of magical energy that
had so easily passed directly through her. The surge of
energy quickly broke apart into tiny spheres of matter,
slamming into the walls and ceiling of the room, knocking
over statuettes and small trinkets. A quick realization
of the chaos forced the young girl to clench her hands as
she tried to regain control of the tiny spheres. Every impact
from the tiny orbs of magic sent brilliant flashes of multi-colored
tones across the now disheveled room which accentuated the
look of consternation that had washed over the young girl's
face.
For the girl, time appeared to stand still momentarily
as her mind fought to regain the control she had lost. Closing
her eyes, she extended both arms to her sides, twirling
her slender fingers in semi-circles and forcing the multiple
magical spheres to merge back into the wave of energy while
maintaining her control on the other tides of magical force
that still swirled around the room. A feeling of conquest
over the magic forced the young girl to release a heavy
sigh of relief as her thin lips slowly crept into a widening
smile. Her moment of triumph was short lived as feelings
of annoyance and irritation infiltrated her mind. She immediately
recognized the source of the feelings that had forced themselves
into her consciousness and quickly remembered that she had
not been alone in the room.
From behind the young elf came a voice that she had come
to know and love. However, the sternness that accompanied
the words that had been spoken brought on a sense of worry
within in the young girl. "Do not focus on the lights,
focus on the source of the magic and they will succumb to
your will!" The deep, raspy voice of her mentor cut
through the childish thoughts that had been running rampant
in her head. The Taking a deep breath, the child closed
her eyes, her thin brilliant smile evaporating into a seriousness
that her aged mentor had never seen before. Inspired by
the girl's change in attitude, he continued, "Channel
the power of the magic. In its raw form, it knows no boundary.
Harness it and it will become one with you." Circling
around the young girl, he continued, "Let it become
your arms and your legs. Let it breathe the air in your
lungs and feel the thoughts in your mind."
Rising from his seat within the shadows behind her, the
much older wizard rose, straightening the folds of his robe
and tightening the reddish sash that marked his title among
the Council of Wizardry. For years he had taught the gifted
children throughout the land in the art of wizardry, and
despite the young girl's tender age, he saw more in her
than he had ever seen in any of his students. Wise beyond
his years, the wrinkled skin of his face were by far an
indication of the countless centuries the wizard had endured.
The oldest member of the council, he enjoyed the luxuries
that only the Council Magistrate could indulge in. Amongst
those privileges was the right to chose whomever he sought
fit to be his protégé. It was by no luck of
the draw that he had selected the gifted child that stood
before him. She had made a quick mess of his chambers, but
he knew that in the end, it would all be worthwhile.
With a soft gasp, the young girl's body stiffened as the
multiple flashes of energy quickly merged into a swirling
blaze of magical power. The sheet of magic encompassed the
young apprentice, forming a blue-tinted globe around her
small frame. Delighted by the progress in his young student,
the older wizard raised his arm and called his staff to
his side. The cherry-wood staff, lying silently across one
of the many tables in the room, slowly righted itself and
bobbed magically into its owners open hand. The wizard could
feel the power within the enchanted staff and tightened
his grip on the weapon. Staring into the lone crystal that
adorned the mighty cane, he reveled in the feeling of adulation
that swept through his aged body. Leveling the staff, he
aimed the crystal-mounted end at his young apprentice and
cast his spell. Deritus Menall.
As the words rolled off his Human tongue, a quick flash
escaped from the mighty staff, sending a ball of magical
energy racing across the short distance to where the girl
stood. Slamming into the magical orb that had formed around
his young student, the magic missile dissipated with a bright
flash, leaving the young girl unharmed. "Excellent!"
the wizard shouted, his weathered features brimming with
excitement. Before he could continue, the center of the
blue orb sparkled to life, sending a similar missile of
magical energy streaming towards him. Raising his staff
into the way of the projectile, he braced himself for the
impact and cursed himself for having let his guard down.
The magic missile crashed into the wizard's staff, knocking
the sorcerer back onto the ground, but not before he had
noticed the sly grin that had taken shape across his apprentice's
young face.
Sprawled across the hard marble floor of the chamber, the
wizard slowly reached for his staff as he struggled to regain
his footing. "Excellent indeed!" he said. He could
still see the young girl grinning behind the impervious
shield that protected her. "Your powers have progressed
faster than I thought possible." Shaking his head,
the wizard stood upright and straightened the edges off
his now crumpled robe. "It seems you have been practicing
outside of our sessions." Waving his left hand towards
the girl, the wizard uttered a dispelling incantation and
watched as the shimmering orb evaporated.
The young girl stepped towards her mentor and offered him
the orange crystals she held in her palms. Having just eclipsed
her four decade in Elven years, the wizard found himself
admiring the beauty of the young girl and smiled as he thought
of the power that had been growing within her. "I hope
I wasn't too hard on you," she teased. Her bright eyes
were alive with excitement as she flashed a childish grin
at her embarrassed mentor. Feeling his face redden, the
wizard took the stones from his protégé. "With
a little more training, you'll be ready for the trials.
Only then will we see how far you've progressed. Simple
spells and games will not be enough."
The tone in the wizard's voice caught the young girl off
guard. "I will be ready," she replied.
"So we shall see. There have been many before you,
and not all have passed. You have the talent, that is evident,
but your discipline is lacking, young one." Turning
back towards the girl, he moved towards her and placed an
outstretched arm across her shoulders. "I can only
show you so much. The desire for greatness must come from
within you." As he spoke, he tapped her forehead with
one of his long, skinny fingers. Looking down at her, he
had remembered the time he had first laid eyes on the young,
impressionable child. He knew then what he knew now about
his juvenile protégé; she would be a force
to reckon with in due time. There was no circumventing the
inevitable. He had seen in her the potential for her to
become more powerful than he could ever imagine, and that
potential had grown tenfold over the years. He knew that
only time would tell and he only hoped that he would live
to see it for himself.
Placing a cold hand upon her head, he closed his eyes.
He could feel the power within her thrashing about, waiting
to be unleashed. "In time, my dear. In time."
With that, he lowered his arm and turned to place his staff
inside a niche in the wall. "I grow weary from our
exercise. Go now so that I may rest."
"Very well, master," she replied. As she turned
towards the door to the wizard 's chamber, she suddenly
stopped and wheeled around. "I promise you that I will
be ready," she said, a sheepish grin creeping along
her soft face, "I'll be the best."
The wizard turned back offered a wink at his eager student.
"Of course you will, my dear Sidria, now be off so
that I can rest."
***
The sounds of music and lively chatter filled every corner
of the crowded pub as patrons drank and gave tribute to
any cause worthy of a good drink. To many, the Troll's Nest
served as a melting pot of traveling merchants, adventure
seekers and local citizenry who engaged in the drunken foray
to escape the reality that existed outside of its thick
wooden doors. Scantily-clad bar maidens hurried drink after
drink to thirsty customers, while at the same time offering
private shows and services for the right amount of coin.
Those who came to "the Nest" in search of anonymity
often found that the ambiance within the establishment not
only offered an escape for its patrons, but also allowed
for a thin veil of privacy and seclusion as few patrons
could often remembered the events of the passing night.
Beneath one of the dimming candelabra hanging from rafters
of the Troll's Nest sat one such patron. As tears of melting
wax dripped precariously onto the ale-soaked floors and
waves of cheer and banter swayed through the pub, her presence
among the drunken haze went unnoticed by all who passed
her side. To the adventurer who sat across from her, she
was nothing more than a thrill seeker, yearning to hear
tales of his travels, and, if he played his cards right,
a partner to share his bed. Her silk scarves and fine cloak
easily revealed her social status, which excited him even
more. To him, she was another conquest, a victory in his
quest for self-gratification. Taking a deep swig from his
mug, he dragged the sleeve of his tunic across his mouth,
wiping small remnants of the ale from his chin as he continued
to ramble on about his latest travels, never realizing that
the supple maiden who sat before him was niece to the Queen
of Quaron, and among other things, in pursuit of her own
personal conquest.
Reaching for her mug of warm Wyvern's Wine, Sidria smiled
at the brash young man as a countless of thoughts swirled
within her mind. Calling upon years of training, she worked
feverously to maintain her composure. The last thing she
wanted was to reveal her true discontent for her current
surroundings. Focusing, instead, on his appearance, Sidria
found the young man to be attractive in appearance, but
rather boorish. His brown eyes were alive with passion and
excitement and his dark black hair had been fastened in
a pony-tail fashion, with thin strands of his locks falling
upon his shoulders as he continued to speak. The regalia
emblazoned across the front his tightly tailored tunic revealed
him to be a knight of sorts with the insignia bearing the
image of a two-headed dragon. Knights were a common sight
among the patrons of the Troll's Nest, but Sidria could
not recall ever having seen this particular crest before.
Motioning with his arms as he recounted his tales of adventure,
Sidria took notice of his muscular definition. "An
excellent subject", she thought to herself as she sipped
her wine.
Sidria's thoughts shifted to her mentor, Ulagarthio Rosin,
who for years, had been a father figure to her and whom
had taken her under his tutelage so many years ago. Her
mind had been like a sponge throughout those earlier years,
soaking up all the knowledge he had bestowed upon her and
transforming her into a masterful sorceress. As she recounted
her youth, she was quickly reminded of how she came to be
at the Troll's Nest and the task that had been placed before.
As memories of a time long past flooded her mind, hazy images
began taking form within her thoughts, taking her back to
a turning point of her life.
***
"Tell me Sidria," her mentor's asked, his voice
soft and fragile, "For how long have you been my student?"
Turning in the direction of the aged wizard, Sidria replied,
"Longer than I can remember, master." Pausing
for a moment, she continued with a quizzical expression
upon her face, "Since I was a child. Why do you ask?"
Moving towards his young protégé, Ulagarthio
repeated, "Since you were a child, you say?" Placing
his hand upon her shoulder, he continued, "In the years
that I have tutored you, have you never wondered why this
old face has never changed?"
"I have," Sidria replied, "Only I figured
it to be the workings of your magic. Besides, master, you're
not that old for a human!" Sidria smiled, her elvish
features accentuated by her almond-shaped eyes.
"What if I were to say to you that I older than anyone
would ever imagine a human man to be," he replied.
Backing away from Sidria, he turned his back to her as she
pondered his statement. "What if were to tell you that
I am over four hundred years old? What then would you say
to that?"
A look of confusion washed away the spry smile on Sidria's
face. "What do you mean? How is that possible? Extension
of life is only capable through the use of Immortalitas.
It's prohibited by the Council of Wizardry!"
"Those are all very true, my young apprentice."
Turning back to face Sidria, Ulagarthio continued, "For
more years than you have been alive, I have been using the
essence of other life crystals to maintain my own life."
Pausing momentarily, Ulagarthio pressed his palms together
and rubbed them as he noted the wrinkled creases that had
taken form upon his weathered skin. "But now, with
my ascension to the head of the Council, I am faced with
a great predicament, my child."
Looking up towards his startled student he continued, "I
can no longer bear the risk of exposing myself to the Council."
Sidria remained stoic in her expression, her eyes transfixed
on the man that, for more years than she could recall, had
been her guiding light in her passage through life. "I
don't understand," she stammered, her mind frantically
working to process what her mentor had divulged to her.
"All these years…through everything you have taught
me, the one thing that has never wavered in all of your
teachings, was the need for morality…virtue…and
now…Sidria's voice broke off, her words trapped within
the confines of her throat.
"It appears, my dear, that you have learned more over
time that I could ever have hoped for," Ulagarthio
replied. "You must understand that my mastery of Immortalitas
has torn at me from within my very existence. I have long
desired to tell you the truth of what I have become."
As Ulagarthio continued his revelation, Sidria felt a weakness
within her lithe frame that forced a small quiver to run
through her body. As she struggled to maintain her composure,
she felt the wetness of a single tear stream down the side
of her cheek as thoughts of betrayal and deception began
to take form within her head.
"Sidria," her mentor continued, "For years
now, I have struggled against the use of my power to extend
my life. Under the watchful eye of the Council, I have been
unable to retrieve the life crystals necessary to maintain
my existence." Extending his arms towards Sidria, he
continued, "Without your help…without you by my
side, I will not live past the next full moon."
Ulagarthio's words stung Sidria as she contemplated what
her mentor was saying. "You…You're dying?"
she asked.
"Yes," he solemnly replied. "It is why I
could not keep the secret from you any longer," he
paused and then continued, "And it is why I need your
help, more now than ever before."
A feeling of desperation washed over Sidria as thoughts
of Ulagarthio's imminent death registered within her mind.
Random thoughts of her youth flashed within her head, taking
her back to when she was nothing more than a child learning
to harness the power of her magic with her mentor by her
side. More thoughts filtered through her mind as she once
again, saw herself mastering the trials of wizardry and
gaining the acceptance of the Council as a sorceress, and
once again, the man before her now, had been by her side.
As countless memories flooded her thoughts, she suddenly
realized that not a moment of her life had past without
her mentor standing within arm's length of her.
Looking at her mentor, Sidria could see that the normal
calmness of his eyes had left him and had been replaced
by a look of desperation, something she had never witnessed
in the old man. The powerful wizard whom she had placed
high upon a pedestal for so many years now stood silently
before her. Through his eyes, Sidria could feel a call for
compassion that resonated deep within her soul. Despite
the rising anger that had begun to take hold, she could
feel her heart wanting to reach out to him. She could sense
the feelings of betrayal beginning to diminish as she realized
that throughout all her years, he had selflessly given himself
to her. She cringed at the thought of her mentor passing
on and realized that now, in his moment of need, she could
be to him what he had been to her for so many years.
Raising her left arm towards her mentor, Sidria beckoned
the old wizard to come forward. As Ulagarthio advanced,
the sorceress threw her arms around her aged mentor, the
folds of her delicate robe engulfing him as she softly placed
her head upon his shoulder. "Forgive me," she
whispered into the old man's ear.
Her words startled the wizard, causing him to lift his
head and bringing his face directly in front of hers. "Forgive
you for what, my child. I should be the one asking for forgiveness,"
he replied.
"Forgive me for judging you," she said, lowering
her head once again onto his shoulder.
Ulagarthio sighed in relief as a thin smile crept across
his weathered cheeks. "I have so much to tell you my
dear." Raising his head, he softly kissed her forehead
the way a father would to a child and tightened his embrace.
***
The pattering of rain echoed soundly through the streets
of Gaisis as tiny raindrops fell upon the tin and metal
roofs of the surrounding dwellings. The sound of music and
cheer emanating from the Troll's Nest could still be heard
in between the crackling roars of thunder that followed
the brief flashes of lightening across the dark stormy skies.
Occasionally, the sounds of heavy boots sloshing through
puddles that had formed throughout the streets could be
heard among the cadence of the rainfall.
Hidden among the shadows of the night and under the cover
of darkness, concealed by the sounds of the world around
them, Sidria stared silently at the paralyzed body of the
knight who had propositioned her earlier. Looking into his
eyes, she could no longer see the look of confidence and
bravado that he had displayed during their time at the pub.
All that remained now was fear of the unknown, which Sidria
knew to be the result of his inability to speak or move.
Reaching down towards the knight, she softly plucked the
purple-feathered dart that protruded from the side of his
neck and placed it in the hidden pocket within her heavy
cloak. Alive and conscious of his surroundings, the knight
fought with every fiber of muscle in his well-honed physique
in an attempt to move, but could not. He tried feverishly
to cry out, in hopes that another passer-by would hear him
and come to his rescue, but try as he did, no words would
pass from his lips.
Sidria knelt down besides the man and wiped clear the rain
that had splattered onto his face. "The only assurance
I can offer you, knight, is that your passing shall be quick
and painless." Reaching into the folds of her robe
from beneath her heavy cloak, Sidria revealed a small ivory
lance reminiscent of a Horn of Unicus. The lance, which
gave off an eerie glow, consisted of three thin ivory slivers,
all intertwined and coming to a sharp point. As she examined
the lance, her thoughts became wrapped around the magic
trapped within the delicate rod. She quickly remembered
the feelings that had enveloped her the first time she had
performed the ritual of harvesting the essence of a life
crystal. The power of the lance had filled her body with
an unnatural force, and she had been waiting patiently for
her master to call upon her for the harvesting of another
life crystal.
Shifting her focus back to the knight, Sidria couldn't
help but feel sorry for the hapless human. In what seemed
like an instant, she had single-handedly swiped clean the
pride and bravado that the man possessed and had transformed
him into nothing more than a mass of flesh and bone, helpless
and immobile. Without so much as a fight, the knight, who
by his own accounts to her, had vanquished dragons and fought
in great battles, had been bested by a sorceress and her
simple dart.
Sidria found herself detesting the actions she had taken
against the honorable knight, but quickly realized that
the life of her mentor required the life of the knight before
her. Without giving the matter a second thought, Sidria
touched the pointed end of the lance to knight's head. A
brief, dim flash erupted from the lance, the magical rod
changing in color from ivory to a dull blue. Tightening
her grip on the lance, Sidria could see the effects of the
magic taking its toll on the helpless man, his features
illuminated by the eerier light of the lance. Sidria could
feel the power within the rod growing as small wisps of
blue vapors swirled from the man's life crystal and were
absorbed by the lance until all that remained of the knight's
body was a dry crackled shell.
Standing over the lifeless remains of the knight, Sidria
secured the lance within her robe and quickly turned towards
the street. Without a moments notice, the sound of thunder
once again echoed through the night, bringing with it a
heavier downpour. With renewed fervor, the sorceress quickly
slipped into the shadows and disappeared into the night.
***
Bound by magical shackles that encased her hands, Sidria
watched the nine members of the Council of Wizardry take
their seats high above the atrium floor of the Council Temple.
To her left, hovering above the ground in stasis and silenced
by the magic of the council, Ulagarthio Rosin stood defiantly
against his accusers. The golden emblems that signified
his position as head of the Council had long been stripped
from the sleeves of his grey and blue ceremonial dress.
All that remained in their place were tattered stitching
and loose threads which gave the powerful wizard the appearance
of being nothing more than a vagabond. Through the shimmering
yellow orb that held him in place, Ulagarthio could hear
the hushed tones of those who had filled the great hall.
He could not remember ever seeing so many people gathered
in one place, and as he scanned through the crowd of faces
around the atrium, a thin smile took form across his old
features.
Glancing to his right, he took notice of the look of worry
that had befallen his long-time apprentice. Now a powerful
sorceress in her own right, her delicate features were made
more exotic by the soft green glow of her magical bindings.
Locking his eyes onto hers, his heart sank as the apprehension
in her expression became evident to him. Unable to speak,
Ulagarthio lamented in his inability to comfort her. He
had attempted to reach out to her telepathically, but the
magic that held him would not allow his thoughts to pass
through the shimmering orb. All he could offer the troubled
sorceress was a soft wink of his eye and a nod of his head
in hopes that some greater power would intervene on her
behalf.
Without notice, the thunderous voice of Phred Dor'Jan,
the red wizard from Ullastria, filled the chamber, startling
many of those in attendance and drawing the attention of
all. Standing high above the crowds below, the hooded wizard
spoke, his arms crossed and hidden within the folds of the
sleeves of his elaborate robe. "Ulagarthio Rosin,"
the old diminutive red wizard began, "Minister of Wizardry
to the Throne of Quaron and former High Wizard to the Council."
Staring down to the imprisoned wizard, Dor'Jan continued,
"You have been found guilty of the practice of Immortalitas
and of desecration to the sanctity of the essence of life
crystals," he paused and continued, "Among other
lesser crimes of magic."
Looking back and forth at the other members of the council
that sat to his sides, the red wizard continued, "We
have concluded that the penalty for your actions is death..."
Phred's blaring voice was overcome by the roar of clamor
that rose from the audience within the temple. Two of the
wizards that sat nearest to him quickly rose to their feet
and demanded silence to no avail, as the commotion on the
atrium floor continued to rise in volume. Throwing back
the hood that concealed his bald head and awkward features,
Phred Dor'Jan reached to his side and lifted his thin, crooked
staff high above his head and proceeded to slam the fragile-looking
cane into the hard marble floor. Upon doing so, a blinding
light filled the great hall, forcing its occupants to shade
their eyes and drawing an instantaneous silence throughout
the room.
"Silence!" yelled the red wizard, his voice echoing
high into the hall's cathedral ceiling. Taking a moment,
he continued, "Ulagarthio Rosin, you shall be put to
death here and now, and may all those whose lives were taken
for the benefit of your own life, find solace in our judgment."
As the words echoed throughout the temple, the remaining
wizards of the council rose in unison. Extending their arms
toward the imprisoned Ulagarthio, Dor'Jan began speaking
in a voice that was foreign to all except his brethren of
the council, his tone louder than it had been before and
sounding as thought it were being amplified from some unknown
source. Encased within the magical sphere that held him
above the marble floors of the temple, Ulagarthio Rosin
closed his eyes and cringed at the anguishing heat that
filled the orb. Without notice, the space within the orb
erupted into an explosion of fire and magic, consuming the
wizard instantly and causing those in attendance to reel
away. Just as quickly as the execution had been carried
out, the orb shimmered and vanished in silence. The only
sound that could be heard throughout the hall was the soft
clanking of the grey life crystal that once belonged to
the old wizard as it fell from where the orb had been.
Phred Dor'Jan turned his attention to that of Sidria, and
spoke, his voice strong and bold, "Sidria Ailema of
Quaron," he paused, "Your involvement in the crimes
committed by Ulagarthio Rosin carry the same sentence as
your misguided mentor."
Closing her eyes, Sidria listened for what she knew would
be the final words before her own death. Distraught over
the loss of her life-long mentor, Sidria struggled vigorously
to fight back the tears that had begun to form in her eyes.
Suddenly, a female voice cut through the air followed by
the soft gasps that escaped the crowd. "Your fate shall
not rest in the hands of the Council." Opening her
eyes, Sidria knew the origin of the soft, yet assertive
voice as her gaze fell heavily upon the Queen of Quaron.
Adorned in her normal regalia, Sidria's aunt, Queen Liana,
stepped forward through the crowd, her royal guards beset
on all sides of her as she made her way toward the center
of the hall. "You have made quite a mess of yourself,
Sidria," she said to her niece, her tone intimidating
and stern, "But I'll not stand by and watch the Council
pass judgment upon my kin." As she spoke, she turned
towards Phred Dor'Jan, her expression one of anger and resentment.
Turning back towards Sidria, she continued, "Before
your mother died following your birth, I promised her that
I would take you under my care and raise you as my own.
By my oath to your mother, and as Queen of this court, I
grant you clemency in the face of death." A quiet hush
swam through the crowd as the Queen brought her hand high
above her head in a call for silence. "My agents have
informed me of others like you. Others who have taken to
the teachings of Ulagarthio Rosin and have forsaken the
authority of the crown." Scanning through the crowd,
Queen Liana quickly recognized some of the faces of the
dissidents that had been identified by her spies.
"I will not watch you die, my dear Sidria, no matter
how depraved and horrid your actions may have been."
Reaching out towards Sidria's arm, Liana continued, "In
place of death as your punishment, I banish you from Quaron."
As the words escaped the queen's mouth, a slow, steady groan
of indistinguishable voices began rising throughout the
crowd. Taking hold of Sidria's arm, Liana leaned her head
toward her niece and continued, her voice reduced to a whisper
so as to keep others from hearing, "My promise to your
mother dies with your exile, child. Should you ever return
to Quaron…" she paused, her grip becoming slightly
tighter, "You shall most definitely face the fate of
your beloved mentor."
Releasing her hold on Sidria's arm, Queen Liana turned
to the crowd and spoke loudly for all within the hall to
hear. "I offer any of you who may have taken to the
teachings of the old wizard the same recourse." Looking
back and forth among the varied faces of the audience, she
continued, "Leave Quaron now and no harm will come
to you. Leave and never return." Without so much as
another word, Queen Liana spun towards the great doors that
led out of the temple as a roar of commotion once again
ignited within the crowd.
In the wake of commotion that ensued following the Queen's
decree and the calls for silence that echoed throughout
the temple, the stealthy act of an inconspicuous, yet odd-looking
gnome, went unnoticed by all. Despite the greatest efforts
of the wizards present during the execution of Ulagarthio
Rosin, not one could recall what had become of the slain
wizard's life crystal, despite having seen and heard it
falling to the ground following his death.
***
For centuries, the Dwarven kingdom of Helm Splitbeard and
his clan of DaggerThorn Dwarves reveled with prosperity
and good fortune, living within the protective confines
of their fortress, Khalidin's Keep, located in the mountains
beyond Windspear and enjoying the fruits of their trade
with their humanoid neighbors. It had been old Splitbeard
himself who had welcomed the sorceress Sidria Ailema of
Quaron, and her people, into his home as emissaries from
Quaron. However, her arrival marked a dark period for the
DaggerThorn dwarves. The dark, mysterious magic that fell
upon the surrounding forest soon after Sidria's arrival,
prevented any from leaving the mountainous home, cutting
off all trade and contact with the surrounding surface dwellers.
As time passed, the Dwarven population dwindled, yet they
were unwavering in their attempts to find a way of escape.
Beneath the cavernous home of King Splitbeard lay a masterful
labyrinth unlike any other in the land. The dwarves turned
to these tunnels in an attempt to dig their way out from
underneath the rocky home that had become their prison.
Where once these tunnels were used to travel beneath the
tall mountains, the dwarves found them to be inhabited by
a variety of ghastly creatures and monsters and were unable
to find an escape. Shortly after achieving failure in their
attempts to breach the forests, civil war engulfed the DaggerThorn
dwarves, splitting the clan between those who wished to
remain secluded within the mountain, and those who demanded
that the clan leave its cursed home.
It had appeared most suspicious to the king's predecessor's
that following Helm Splitbeard's untimely death, a safe
passage had been found and recorded by one of Sidria's aide's,
an odd looking gnome named Rasa Dergaineous. But by the
time the remnants of the DaggerThorn clan had realized that
the source of their malaise had been unsuspectingly at their
side, it was too late. With their numbers depleted almost
to nothing and weakened by the sorceress' enchantments,
the dwarves succumbed easily to her charm spells, allowing
her to gain complete control of the mountain fortress. The
few dwarves that remained lived under her rule, their minds
imprisoned by her magic and forced to provide maintenance
to the forges that burned within the mountain.
Many in the region often wondered what had become of the
mighty Dwarven clan that had provided the fine craftsmanship
of weapons and metals to the local towns. However, the mystery
of the hex that engulfed the forest surrounding the cavernous
mountains prevented any from venturing too close to the
woods. Those that were foolish enough to follow their curiosity
into the enchanted forest were sadly enough, never seen
again.
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