Here dragon, dragon, dragon!
Joined: 23 Feb 2001
Location: The Head of the Game Table
|Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2003 3:22 pm Post subject: Backroom Discussions
|"Do you understand now? As I was saying, the elf's purpose is to protect this one, the last of the line. And in so doing, he will help to prevent a greater evil from coming into power." The voice, while firm and strong, came from a diminutive man. A man who was further dwarfed by the massive oak desk and the stacks of books and scrolls atop it.
Across the room, a figure cloaked in shadows paced menacingly back and forth. From beneath the dark hood a scowl could be seen. A sibilant voice came from the blackness, "And what would I fear of another 'greater evil'? You know my aims, and the more evil the better. You have thwarted my designs on this one on many occasions. The last instance was almost inexcusable. Is your increasing age also increasing your senility?"
The older man straightened up in his ornamented, high-backed chair. "But this greater evil comes to power by using the energy of That Which Will Not Be Mentioned. Could we once again band together to banish yet another power for breaking the Ban? If he does indeed tap into the source, then his power could be too great. Many of us would be destroyed, a fate I'm sure you would prefer to being a lapdog or lackey.
"The elf has enjoyed some special protection, as is my purview. But that last was not of my doing. You can blame Hentrininon for that. Gaen's power is what sealed that vile temple, and prevented escape for any souls. That reminds me, how is Ochremesk?"
"I use his skull for a goblet and his skin for a rug, how do you think he is?" the cloaked figure snapped irritably. Then he paused, his hand outstreched in a half-pointing gesture. Slowly turning to face the desk, a sly grin broke on his cowled face, "So the elf is now one with his fate and destiny?"
"Indeed. He is on his own, as his parents were before him. His death now would be for his proper cause. In the line of duty, as it were. But you must still abide by the proper rules. If another asks for his return, you must let him go. Another 'accident' within the same bloodline would be investigated thoroughly, and have severe consequences."
"Of course," the dark one spoke slyly, "I would never..."
"But you have done before."
"That cannot be proven. It seems I should prepare to leave, I must make arrangements for a certain visitation."
With that, the cloaked figure strode toward the door, grabbing his scythe on the way out.
"Let us hope that the elf can solve the mystery before Zoriel finds him. He has much hate for that family, don't you think, Voontican?" The old man stared thoughtfully at the closed door.
A nearby stack of books shimmered and changed form into a tall, robed man with a long braided black ponytail and a sharp goatee. "It is suprising that he does not suspect the involvement of Fonor, a secret even I uncovered decades ago. But the elf's friends are resourceful. If your wizard cannot complete his destiny, then perhaps they will."
The old man looked much older then, his eyes sinking, and his shoulders slumping. "Have faith, my friend. The time is close."