Shadowblade (5 page)

Zerelis made the appropriate Sigil in the air before him and spoke the command which unleashed the magic. Then the very shadows of the room raced to the center, swirling in a clockwise vortex. The apprentice stepped inside the vortex and slowly disappeared.

Shalthazar gave a satisfied nod, sensing that the spell was properly done and turned to face the twin, Urelis. The two were not identical twins, yet their talent for the use of the Shadow Tides appeared to be. The blond-haired Urelis, while respectful, always seemed to have a barely perceptible smirk on his face that was just shy of being disrespectful; something which the more conservative Zerelis would never dare. Urelis was extraordinarily confident, and that is precisely the reason why the elf chose him to carry out the next order.

But the wizard sensed that his remaining apprentice wished to speak. “What is it, Urelis?”

“I have a question, Master. My brother and I are having a disagreement on the nature of the Dark Disciples. We cannot find agreement as to their true nature. Are they mortal beings gifted with special powers; or are they immortal beings in the service of the Dark Lord?”

“Excellent question,” said the master. “They are mortals, like you and I, although many of them have been alive for centuries if not longer. The Dark Disciples are also called the
Thirteen,
as there are always that many in number. The source of their power comes from the Shadow Tides. The Dark Lord knew that Zuhr was going to banish the use of the Sigils, so he took steps to prevent the loss of the Shadow Sigil to his father’s anger.”

“What steps did he take?”

“He took the source of all Shadow Tide forces on Llars and split it into thirteen pieces. Then, he bound each of those pieces to one of his Shadow Hunters hoping to never let the followers of Zuhr learn of it. Each piece is a talisman, an object of great power. By destroying each of the thirteen talismans, it is conceivable that the Shadow Tides could be eliminated.”

“That is why Balzath and the others are so powerful!” exclaimed the apprentice. “They have the raw power of the Tides at their disposal.”

“Indeed. That is why they are so well protected, and favored, by Umber. Now, we must make our preparations.”

“What is it you require of me, Master?” asked the apprentice, an eager gleam in his eye.

“We are going to conduct a test of my newest pets. I need you to make preparations for a journey,” said the elf. Shalthazar told the apprentice what was required of him and the man disappeared in a puff of smoke to do his master’s bidding.

The wizard walked over to his nearest creation and placed his hand on the thing’s waxy cheek in a tender manner.

“Soon, my child of death, you will taste the blood of innocents!”

Shalthazar smiled broadly in anticipation of the torment and death to come!

Shalthazar was eager, very eager, to unleash his new pet golems on the unsuspecting people of the nearby Cklathlands. But this must be done in secret, and far from the bustling town of Fort Ogrewall.

He ascended the narrow stairwell that led to his chambers above, dwelling on the progress he made and the setbacks he had endured thus far. Overall, the military campaign had gone incredibly well. After the conquest of the Vaard, the army had virtually walked across the Northern Continent conquering every small city-state and principality that stood in its way. The majority of the city-states surrendered voluntarily, asking to be accepted into the great new kingdom that was called New Ilian Nah, or New Nashia. The campaign proceeded along the timetable that he had expected and came to a natural pause at the foot of the Ogrewall Mountains just as winter was setting in. This gave him time to prepare for the next phase of his military campaign: dealing with the mighty Ogre Tribes and the powerful Cklathish nations. During the winter he had been hard at work sowing the seeds of discontent among the Cklath and a number of the smaller Cklathish leaders had aligned themselves with the Prophet-General. In the greater picture of the Cklathish nations, the number of those on his side were militarily insignificant but the effects of their defection would certainly help to undermine public opinion and morale in the larger and more powerful kingdoms. The military campaign could not be going any better.

Shalthazar picked up a magical staff that had been recovered from some insignificant city his troops had conquered, and shouldered a backpack. Today the arch-mage was not dressed in his usual robed attire. Instead, he was wearing the military uniform of a general in the army, brown and black leather armor with the adornments of his rank pinned in black metal to his epaulettes. Fort Ogrewall was his home now, and would likely remain so for the foreseeable future. A capital city was being formed back in the east and a grand fortified palace upon a hill was being constructed for the Prophet-General. But Shalthazar’s goals were loftier than that. He didn’t care about palaces or the dominion of nations. What Shalthazar wanted was far greater. He wanted the power and magic that was supreme over all others, more powerful than even the Sigils.

He wanted the power that came with immortality.

He emerged from his laboratory and then traversed the halls of the great keep, his polished black staff making a resounding crack each time it struck the hardwood floors. The light of oil lamps ensconced on the walls only seemed to enhance the fact that this staff was a tool of vileness and evil. When the staff had been given to him by the general who recovered it, he had been unable to determine the nature of its powers. While he still had much to learn about it, he did know that it acted as a repository for the dark magic that Shalthazar employed. He had wondered how it came to be in the treasure vault of the nameless monarch, but assumed that the fool had simply not known what it was that he had.

The great Prophet-General was beginning to sense that his Nashian military officers were becoming aware of the practices of his apprentices, and they were becoming aware of the dark wizard’s own experiments. Perhaps the Nashians did not know exactly what he was up to, but they certainly suspected that something was amiss with their Prophet-General.

He was becoming far more detached from his command responsibilities, finding such mundane tasks beneath him, and more absorbed in the practice and mastering of the Shadow Sigil. All of this seemed to be fostering an air of discontent among his officers and morale was beginning to suffer. But Shalthazar was on the verge of something greater, something that would propel him to the immortality he so desperately wanted. Very soon he would not care what became of his newly carved empire or the fools that inhabited it.

Shalthazar made his way through the keep to the portcullis where his mount, the nightmare he had summoned from the realms of the abyss and cloaked with a spell to change its distinctive features, and his entourage waited. He handed his staff and pack to a waiting apprentice in black robes who bowed deeply to the master wizard as he vaulted up onto he sleek black steed. The nightmare was pleased to have her master upon her back and eager to go forth to wreak havoc and spread fear upon the mortals of this world. It had been far too long for both master and mount since either one had been in the thick of a battle, but that was about to change.

“Where are you going, Your Eminence?” asked General Nox, the man in whom he had invested the responsibilities of running the campaign and managing the empire. Nox wasn’t fond of the duties of governance, the wizard suspected few military men were, but it was of no consequence to him. The man must do as he was told.

“I and my apprentices will be conducting a secret mission, General. A mission which does not require your presence or knowledge.”

“Indeed, Your Eminence,” replied the general, his steely countenance ever so slightly dour. “However, should Your Eminence find that your magic-wielders are not capable of handling the mission you require completed, my troops would be better able to provide assistance if we know where to find you.”

Shalthazar was becoming less amused with the man’s pessimistic view of magic and he was beginning to believe the general doubted the wizard’s own prowess and ability. The nightmare sensed her masters displeasure and stomped the ground with her right front foot, her teeth bared and her ears laid flat along the back of her head. If the human was capable of seeing through the disguise which hid the beast’s true appearance, Shalthazar had no doubt about his reaction to the supernatural creature. The wizard detested the bargain he had made with the dark god which included this military annexation and desperately wanted to end this charade. But he let out a sigh and calmed himself, now was not the time.

“We go where we need to go and will return when we intend to,” he said, deigning not to answer the general’s questions. Shalthazar spurred his mount and the beast took off with such violence that she would have unseated the dark wizard had he not been prepared. The portcullis was open and a white expanse of snow covered countryside lay open before him as he and the apprentices thundered ahead.

Shalthazar’s apprentices had all been carefully screened for their ability in magic and their ability to keep secrets. The best and brightest of his students were selected for this mission, including Urelis. Using the power of the Shadow Sigil he probed each one’s mind and forced them to submit to his will. Each apprentice swore an oath that was magically reinforced; they could never willingly reveal any of the secrets of their craft to the Nashians. Should an offender possess enough strength of will to overcome the magical compulsion, his tongue would detach and force itself down his own throat.

The dark wizard and his three dark apprentices rumbled onto the road beyond the still frozen moat, each apprentice astride a nightmare he himself had summoned from the depths of the Shadowrealms as had their master. The intense heat of the infernal beast’s hooves caused the snow to melt in explosive clouds of vapor, a small indication that the disguise spells which protected the creatures’ identities were beginning to wear off.

The four horsemen thundered down the road and away from the view of the keep and continued to run. The road came to a stop at an intersection at the base of the Ogrewall Mountains where they could go no farther, leaving the men to choose either right or left roads parallel to the Ogrewall Mountains. They turned left and headed southward toward the distant sea, still very much in the hill country. They left behind the areas patrolled by the forces of the Nashian military and continued into the uncontested hill country regions. After a few days of hard riding through snow covered countryside, they reached an area inhabited by hardy people devoted to the ways of Zuhr and Ulrych.

And here the four dark men would test the new weapon created by Shalthazar, Master of Shadows.

Shalthazar halted his nightmare outside the first village they came to. It was a village numbering nearly two hundred residents, or so his scouts reported. They stood just outside the border of the village's territory, and Shalthazar waited to be discovered. The scouts reported that this village, so close to the wilder regions, had an organized city watch that conducted regular patrols around the city perimeter, along the road, and into the wilderness far enough to protect the interests of the villagers. Their patrols rarely numbered more than ten, sufficient numbers to handle any roaming oroks or a few brigands.

Shalthazar took his shiny black ram’s head staff from the sleeve on his saddle and waved it in a circular pattern, breathing the words of power in the language of Shadow. In a flash, the spells which disguised the four nightmares vanished. It was as though the beasts seemed to know and they began to prance in circles and stomp, eager to be free of the confines of the spells which hid their demonic identities. The nightmares were intimidating to behold, their eyes aglow with the red light of hatred and sparks flew from their noses when they snorted. Flames crackled from their pointed hooves causing the snow to hiss as it evaporated under the hooves of the dark beasts.

“Urelis,” called the wizard as the four stopped to make their preparations.

“Yes, Master?” replied the student as he ensured his long blond hair was neatly secured to his head. Although Urelis’ foppish nature tended to irritate the head wizard, the apprentice’s fastidiousness and attention to detail made him an excellent study, and it seemed his potential was great.

“What is the purpose of this exercise?”

“To test the theory proposed by Disciple Commander Coronus that the Shadow Tide can be manipulated with more precision and to greater effect when it is amplified by the fear of the mortal beings in the immediate area.”