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The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 3850491" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 279</p><p></p><p>THE CAVERN</p><p></p><p></p><p>The quiet and darkness were absolute, pure, and that made the breaking of both that much more dramatic. </p><p></p><p>He was alone, surrounded by a soft glow of magical light. His boots made only the slightest scuff on the bare stone floor, but even those faint sounds echoed deeply throughout the place. The odd angles and unusual formations of the cavern made every noise echo back strangely, until one could not recognize the nature of the original sound. </p><p></p><p>Elegion Alderis moved deeper into the cavern. Most elves did not look their age, but the arcanist wore the effects of Rappan Athuk upon his frame, and his steps were deliberate, as though every movement cost him credits from a diminished account of vitality. In this place, the magic of the layered auras protecting him seemed to sizzle in the air. </p><p></p><p>Others had come, since he had first found this place. He could <em>sense</em> them in the very air of the cavern. But the Conclave had not found what he had found here, that he knew. </p><p></p><p>It was gone now. The crystal he’d taken from this place had been destroyed by his old friend, Sultheros; there was nothing left here but memories and nightmares. </p><p></p><p>Then why was he here?</p><p></p><p>With some difficulty he made his way down a staggered tier of stone shelves that deposited him on the edge of a natural gallery fashioned in a deep crevice in the rock. Moisture glistened on the bare rocks in the glow of his <em>light</em> spell. </p><p></p><p>And then, so suddenly that it seemed to jump out of the darkness, he saw it. </p><p></p><p>It looked innocuous to casual observation. A vein of... <em>something</em>, not quite mineral, not quite crystal. The substance seemed to drink in the light of his spell. There was an opening in the middle of the vein, a depression that had held an object about the size of a wand, only thicker, like a dagger. It looked like a crack in the crystal, and one wouldn’t have known there was something unusual about it, if you hadn’t known to look. </p><p></p><p>Alderis knew. He knew all too well. </p><p></p><p>Without conscious thought he extended a hand toward the gap. </p><p></p><p>A flash of blackness. </p><p></p><p>For an instant, the gap between heartbeats, he was in a different place. A vast hall, sinister, with walls fashioned out of the bones of millions of dead creatures. A stale stink of death filled his nostrils. Behind him, something huge and terrible stirred. </p><p></p><p>Another flash, and he was back in the now, back in his reality. Pain exploded through his chest, and he staggered back, nearly falling. </p><p></p><p>He looked at the crystal formation. It had all begun here, when he’d been lured by the promise of power to take that which did not belong in this world. </p><p></p><p>A flash. </p><p></p><p>He saw himself, young and vital, reaching for the object embedded in the wall. He heard laughter, but his echo-self did not hear it. There was a flash, and he heard himself cry out in pain. </p><p></p><p>Reality. He was alone, back in the present. But the pain continued to burn inside him. He reached down and tugged at the neck of his robe, baring his chest. </p><p></p><p>There was a radiance coming from within, beneath the surface of his flesh. His chest shone with a crimson glow, like iron heated within a blacksmith’s forge, but the skin was icy cold to his touch. Black tendrils of power radiated around him. Somehow, he could see them, although his light had diminished, failing before that unholy glow. </p><p></p><p>A flash. The pain surged. </p><p></p><p>He was in the land of his dreams. A blackened landscape, populated by the dead and those who were on their way. A vast plain, as far as he could see, only corruption and decay. </p><p></p><p>A flash. The agony in his chest had grown almost unbearable, but his mind clung persistently to consciousness. </p><p></p><p>The heart of Aelvenmarr, once his home. Trees, their dead branches reaching for the sky like claws. A vile substance flowed around his ankles, burning where it touched his skin. He felt the pressure of unseen eyes, and turned to see a dozen dark figures standing behind him, their cold eyes accusing. </p><p></p><p>A flash. Fire, searing through his soul. </p><p></p><p>Here. No, not here, not again. Anywhere but here. The Dungeon of Graves, the humans called it. Darkness. Memory. And death. So much death. The death of a world. And within it all, the power of the dark god. Laughter, again, mocking, terrible. </p><p> </p><p>There was another eruption of power, one that washed his sense of self away like smoke before a gale. The elf only gradually became aware. He was lying on the floor. His fingernails throbbed where he had clawed at the hard stone, and blood trailed down the side of his face where he had bit down on his lip. Pain lingered all throughout his body, but it was the dull ache of old wounds, not the flaming dagger that had cut a swath through his soul before. </p><p></p><p>Dazed, Alderis slowly dragged himself up to a seated position. He could not move any further, not yet. Once again his <em>light</em> spell surrounded him with a warm bubble of illumination, but the darkness beyond seemed malevolent still. He rubbed at his chest. The red glow was gone, but he still felt a cold emptiness inside him, one that did not fade as feeling returned to his body, and he slowly picked himself up off the ground. The elf stood there for what seemed a long time, his head bowed. Then, shaking himself out of the lassitude that clung to his bones, he spoke a word of magic, and vanished.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 3850491, member: 143"] Chapter 279 THE CAVERN The quiet and darkness were absolute, pure, and that made the breaking of both that much more dramatic. He was alone, surrounded by a soft glow of magical light. His boots made only the slightest scuff on the bare stone floor, but even those faint sounds echoed deeply throughout the place. The odd angles and unusual formations of the cavern made every noise echo back strangely, until one could not recognize the nature of the original sound. Elegion Alderis moved deeper into the cavern. Most elves did not look their age, but the arcanist wore the effects of Rappan Athuk upon his frame, and his steps were deliberate, as though every movement cost him credits from a diminished account of vitality. In this place, the magic of the layered auras protecting him seemed to sizzle in the air. Others had come, since he had first found this place. He could [i]sense[/i] them in the very air of the cavern. But the Conclave had not found what he had found here, that he knew. It was gone now. The crystal he’d taken from this place had been destroyed by his old friend, Sultheros; there was nothing left here but memories and nightmares. Then why was he here? With some difficulty he made his way down a staggered tier of stone shelves that deposited him on the edge of a natural gallery fashioned in a deep crevice in the rock. Moisture glistened on the bare rocks in the glow of his [i]light[/i] spell. And then, so suddenly that it seemed to jump out of the darkness, he saw it. It looked innocuous to casual observation. A vein of... [i]something[/i], not quite mineral, not quite crystal. The substance seemed to drink in the light of his spell. There was an opening in the middle of the vein, a depression that had held an object about the size of a wand, only thicker, like a dagger. It looked like a crack in the crystal, and one wouldn’t have known there was something unusual about it, if you hadn’t known to look. Alderis knew. He knew all too well. Without conscious thought he extended a hand toward the gap. A flash of blackness. For an instant, the gap between heartbeats, he was in a different place. A vast hall, sinister, with walls fashioned out of the bones of millions of dead creatures. A stale stink of death filled his nostrils. Behind him, something huge and terrible stirred. Another flash, and he was back in the now, back in his reality. Pain exploded through his chest, and he staggered back, nearly falling. He looked at the crystal formation. It had all begun here, when he’d been lured by the promise of power to take that which did not belong in this world. A flash. He saw himself, young and vital, reaching for the object embedded in the wall. He heard laughter, but his echo-self did not hear it. There was a flash, and he heard himself cry out in pain. Reality. He was alone, back in the present. But the pain continued to burn inside him. He reached down and tugged at the neck of his robe, baring his chest. There was a radiance coming from within, beneath the surface of his flesh. His chest shone with a crimson glow, like iron heated within a blacksmith’s forge, but the skin was icy cold to his touch. Black tendrils of power radiated around him. Somehow, he could see them, although his light had diminished, failing before that unholy glow. A flash. The pain surged. He was in the land of his dreams. A blackened landscape, populated by the dead and those who were on their way. A vast plain, as far as he could see, only corruption and decay. A flash. The agony in his chest had grown almost unbearable, but his mind clung persistently to consciousness. The heart of Aelvenmarr, once his home. Trees, their dead branches reaching for the sky like claws. A vile substance flowed around his ankles, burning where it touched his skin. He felt the pressure of unseen eyes, and turned to see a dozen dark figures standing behind him, their cold eyes accusing. A flash. Fire, searing through his soul. Here. No, not here, not again. Anywhere but here. The Dungeon of Graves, the humans called it. Darkness. Memory. And death. So much death. The death of a world. And within it all, the power of the dark god. Laughter, again, mocking, terrible. There was another eruption of power, one that washed his sense of self away like smoke before a gale. The elf only gradually became aware. He was lying on the floor. His fingernails throbbed where he had clawed at the hard stone, and blood trailed down the side of his face where he had bit down on his lip. Pain lingered all throughout his body, but it was the dull ache of old wounds, not the flaming dagger that had cut a swath through his soul before. Dazed, Alderis slowly dragged himself up to a seated position. He could not move any further, not yet. Once again his [i]light[/i] spell surrounded him with a warm bubble of illumination, but the darkness beyond seemed malevolent still. He rubbed at his chest. The red glow was gone, but he still felt a cold emptiness inside him, one that did not fade as feeling returned to his body, and he slowly picked himself up off the ground. The elf stood there for what seemed a long time, his head bowed. Then, shaking himself out of the lassitude that clung to his bones, he spoke a word of magic, and vanished. [/QUOTE]
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