Death Or Fortune (36 page)

     With the
wand in one of his hands he then pulled a long dagger from the same chest.
After setting both items on the stone table he walked over to the cage.
 Only after being sure the ogre was sleeping did he reach inside and pull
the cat out.  Almost as soon as the cat was out of the cage the ogre began
to stir.

    
"Kiki?" Krumk mumbled half asleep, reaching out to find the small
orange cat. When his hand only felt the bottom of the cage he opened his eyes
and sat up. "Kiki?" he said a bit louder this time. Krumk got to his
feet in the cage and started to look around. "Kiki!" he shouted when
seeing the wizard holding the cat down on the table. "Give Kiki!" he
said.

     "Why
didn't you eat your meal ogre?" Ramanthus asked with a cool and calm
voice.  His face showing no emotion.  The ogre gave him a little
laugh that sounded like rocks tumbling together down an old well.
     "Krumk not eat Kiki, Kiki Krumk friend. Give
Krumk Kiki!"

     "Your
friend? Do you know what it is like to lose a friend ogre?" Ramanthus
asked as he placed a single hand over the dagger on the table.

     "Wat...
you give Krumk Kiki now!" The ogre had started to become angry at the
wizard.

     "I
will not!" Ramanthus told him as he picked the dagger up, pointing it
towards the cat.

     "NO
HURT KIKI!" the ogre screamed, shaking the bars of his cage. "GIVE
BACK!" the ogre pleaded.

    
"No" was all Ramanthus had to say before using the dagger on the fat,
orange cat.

    
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" Krumk wailed at the top of his lungs. He began
to attack the cage door in his rage. Ramanthus stood and watched the beast
trying to break free. His face had not changed since he first took the cat from
the cage. He was devoid of all emotion, not even as the rivets began to break
on the cage door did he so much as twitch.

    
"NOOOOOOOOOO! KIKI!" the ogre cried out while continuing to pound on
the cage. Even the tears on the ogres face did not affect the wizard.
 Leaving the knife in the cat’s now dead body, Ramanthus picked up the
wand he had picked out and started to walk out of the cave. "KIKI"
Krumk continued to cry out to his now dead friend.  Not far from the mouth
of the cave the wizard stopped, wand in hand he turned around just in time to
see the ogre smash the cage door open.  Krumk jumped from the cage and
stumbled to the stone table picking up the cat, ever so gently removing the
knife after which he cradled the cat against his chest. "KIKI!
NOOOOOOO!" Tears fell like rain from the face of Krumk as he turned to the
wizard one last time.

     For what
seemed to be the longest time the ogre continued to stare at the wizard, the
hate in his eyes growing by the moment. At long last he laid the cat down back
on the stone table, rubbing his face on the bloody fur.  It was then that
the ogre turned and ran towards the wizard, seeking his revenge for his little
furry friend.  Blood was now mixed with the tears running down his face.
 Clumps of bloody cat hair clung to the ogre’s chest as he ran.
 Ramanthus, watching and waiting stood there with his wand in hand.
 He had to wait until just the right moment, he had to be sure that he
would not damage anything in the cave when he used the disintegration ray on
the charging beast. Just before Krumk saw the magical light that would end his
life, he let out one last battle cry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
     Ramanthus stood before the gathered men and women.
 It took him close to six years to find them all, then getting them to
agree to help.  Each of them were skilled in magic but there was one area
where they all excelled and it was for that that he had tracked them all down.
 Each of them had a gift for elemental control.  Thirty of them all
together would help him shape what would become his dream.  Many of them
were like him, from the land of Toryth Vol and had a desire to see the land
return to its former state, if not to improve on it.  They had many tasks
ahead of them, to study just what it was in the air that Xcavere had done to
cause everything to die.  Then find a way to remove the corruption from
the air.  They tried many times on the ground near a forest but it was
just too much for them to hold back.  There was also the problem of
Xcavere himself being able to feel them as they worked.  They had lost
five men the first time they were attacked by a wave of undead.  When they
made the trek up into the mountains they found that they were able to work
without drawing his attention.  Some seemed to believe it was just the
thin air.

     Ramanthus
didn't care why it worked, just that it did.  They were able to push back
his corruption from one of the tallest peaks in the mountain range.  They
waited for the assault to come after wards but in the end it never came. They
watched and waited for months to see if the corruption would return, it did
not.  They had found a way to poke a small hole into the blanket of
Xcavere's power that he had over the land.  A place where they could work
in peace and a place from which they could someday take back all of Toryth Vol
from the lich king. The thing they had done was just the first step.  Creating
a blind spot from which to strike out at Xcavere. The next step was to begin
the construction of a road to the blind spot from the forest in Sanctuary.
 Everyone believed that even if the magic used to make the road was
noticed, they would be able to escape in time.  They would worry about the
other two roads they needed later, after they built the citadel.  It was
for this reason that they had all gathered here this day.  There was some
disagreement as to how big the citadel should be. Yet in the end the discussion
would fall back to the one problem they had not seen an answer to yet.
 How to deal with a nation full of undead that would fight them every step
of the way.

     This was
something Ramanthus had been working on in private, he did not dare share his ideas
with his companions.  Most of them would not be pleased if they found out
he was working with clerics of Soranus.  Yet, more than anyone they
understood the dead.  How to bind them to your will.  Any necromancer
could do it that but Ramanthus wanted to approach this from a different
direction.  With their help he began to explore the human soul and body on
a different level.  Beyond simple alterations to a person's behavior.
 Ramanthus had tried to share his wand of attunement with some of his
pears in the past, most wrote it off as a simple charm, yet he knew it was much
more than that.  This is not something that would fade over time, this was
an eternal bond between two souls.  No, they would not understand where it
was that they must go next in order to deal with the undead.  Stripping a
soul from its body, leaving the body whole all the while replacing it with your
desires and gifts of power.  Like taking an empty pot and filling it with
all that you desire a creature to be.  There would be some sacrifice but
in order to win, they all must sacrifice something.

     Ramanthus
had sacrificed many things in order to accomplish his goals.  Parts of
himself, his mind even his own soul.  Many times he could feel his mind
slipping into the dark parts of himself.  He believed this was all part of
his growth and part of what he had to do in order to defeat the evil creature
that had taken over his homeland.  At times he was afraid of becoming
worse than Xcavere.  Whenever those thoughts would creep up he would just
push them away. He knew he was doing the right thing.  Even if his work
had cost him his two best friends, the dwarven brothers Baylor and Zeran.
 He was sure that in the end the two would approve of his work and what he
was trying to do.  Even if they wouldn't have agreed with how he was going
about it.  Yes, sacrifices must be made to achieve the greater good.
 Ramanthus was growing tired of the bickering amongst his fellow wizards
when he decided it was time for him to take the next step forward.  He
told them that he must journey back to his home in Westheath.  That he
would return to them soon and to continue working. "We must continue to
press forward.  Even if not all can agree on the steps we must take, we
must not stagnate. Only by fighting to press on will we gain any ground."

     After the
death of his master, Ramanthus set out on the road with the dwarven brothers.
Leaving behind the mother of his child.  Not that she wanted him around.
 Still, he did what he thought was right and when he visited he always
brought with him any money he could spare to give to her.  He did not want
his child to want for anything, even if he really didn't know him.  In the
past Rosalie wouldn't allow him to see the boy for more than a minute or two at
a time.  She said she wanted the boy to believe his father was a strong
warrior.  Not some "twit that runs around in a dress." So while
he saw the child a few times over the years, the boy knew nothing about him.
 Over the last year or so her client list had dwindled down to next to
nothing, she needed the money Ramanthus brought in more than ever.  The
last time he was in town, she said she would think about letting him talk to
the boy.  It was for this reason and this reason alone that he was excited
about going back to see her this time.

     Ramanthus
spent a few hours at the home he had inherited from his master.  He wanted
a few things from his master’s private collection of items.  His current
companions had found a dragon’s lair near where they were now working.
 Ramanthus feared he would have to deal with it in some way.  Once he
had everything he felt he would need, he packed it all up and set it out where
he would not forget it when leaving town again.  With that done he took a
single coin pouch with him and headed off towards the home of Rosalie.
 While she didn't live in a slum, it wasn't the best area in the city.
 Ramanthus never went there with anything more than what he could afford
to lose.  While he was more than able to handle an attack.  He couldn't
afford to draw attention to himself.  He didn't want anyone in the city to
take too long of a look at him and his life.  He had too much to lose at
this point.  Without someone going around and looking at all the ties that
bind.  The work he was doing was too important to stop now.

     As he
approached the shack where Rosalie lived he saw something odd.  A large
group of children were gathered outside.  As he got closer memories of his
own childhood came rushing back to him, they were all there watching a fight of
some kind.  The closer he got, he could tell it was a very one sided
fight. Yes, this was something that Ramanthus remembered very well. Three
bigger boys were taking turns with the smaller child.  Smacking him,
punching and pushing him around the circle.  The smaller boy's face was
black and blue with blood running at a steady pace from his nose.
 Ramanthus having seen enough dove into the ring of children, yelling at
them to get away, to stop beating on that boy.  Some of the children
seeing an adult ran as fast as their legs could carry them.  One of them,
refused to move, instead he just stared at the wizard.

     "I'm
not done with him yet old man!" Ramanthus could not believe this boy
standing up to him, he had blood splattered all over the front of his shirt and
his fat little fist.  The smaller boy was lying in the dirt, crying at the
top of his lungs.

     "I
will not play with you child, run home to your mother before I lose my
temper." the fat little boy looked up at the wizard with a hard look in
his eye.  Ramanthus spared one last look down at the little boy, bleeding
into the dusty road before advancing on the bully.  Calling to mind a
simple spell he held his hand out to the boy but not touching him, wisp of
flame danced around his fingertips. "Are you ready to die child, I will
not tell you again to leave." The boy looked at the wizard’s fingers in
awe, until it dawned on him that he was in very real danger.  As the flame
covered hand came closer and closer he turned and ran.

     Ramanthus
dispelled the illusion and turned to the boy in the street. At first he wasn’t
sure what to do about the crying, bleeding child.  While he had taken some
beatings in his youth, never had anyone taken it to him this bad. “Come on boy,
it isn’t that bad.  Let me help you up.” As Ramanthus was pulling the boy
off the ground he started to wonder where the child lived or where his parents
were.  As the small boy stood up and looked into the eyes of Ramanthus,
that question was answered for him.  He let out a soft sigh as he looked
into his son’s eyes.  This wasn’t how he wanted to get to know the boy.

      “Go
find your mother, I have to speak with her.” He said at long last. He watched
as the still sobbing child ran into the house. Ramanthus stood looking at the
still open door, swinging back and forth with the wind, he took a step forward.
Wanting to hear anything that might be said between the mother and child.
 When he could hear the footsteps coming he stepped back and waited.
 Rosalie came to the door with a smile on her face, all the while trying
to smooth out the wrinkles in her thread bare dress.  When she saw who was
standing outside her door the smile went away.

     “What do
you want?” She asked.

     “I’ve
brought you some money but I don’t know if I can give it to you now.
 Where were you when your son was being beaten to death right outside your
door?” The more he spoke, the more his anger started to show.

     “It is
none of your business where I was or what I was doing.  I never asked for
anything from you.” Rosalie turned and walked away, trying to close the door in
his face.  As he put his hand out to stop the door from closing several
spells came to mind, several deadly spells.  In the end, he stopped
himself.  This was not the time and in his heart, he did still care about
her.