NOW LIVE! Today's the day you meet your new best friend. You don’t have to leave Wolfy behind... In 'Pets & Sidekicks' your companions level up with you!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4172722" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 23IN THE DEEP OF THE NIGHTThe night was absolutely still; not even a hint of breeze or the chirping of a lonely cricket shattered the perfect quiet that surrounded the Temple of the Final Sacrament.  In their camp outside, set amidst the wreckage of a once-massive dead tree, the living members of Ghazaran’s company slept fitfully, their dreams given dark substance from their proximity to the corrupt place.  Parzad kept watch from a perch atop the bole of the fallen tree, a vague shadow in the nearly perfect darkness.  Navev was perhaps somewhere nearby as well, but the mummy was one with the night, and not likely to be found by casual observation. Within the temple, Ghazaran knelt upon the cold hard stone.  The cleric had removed his armor and tunic.  The skin of his bare torso was taut like old parchment, and covered with ritual scars that marked his body like the sketched borders of an old, faded map.  His lips moved soundlessly, and periodically he would stretch.  The movements were not those of a man trying to relieve tired muscles; rather, during those episodes it seemed almost as if he was being pulled by some unseen force, and each time he would return to his previous stance, sucking in air in weary gasps. His meditations continued for hours; midnight came and went, and then the quiet hours that comprised the darkest, deepest stretch of the night.  Still there was no interruption, either from within or without, until suddenly his entire body shuddered, and his eyes burst open, staring into the dark. He remained kneeling there for several minutes more, his body trembling with effort.  Finally, he crawled over to where he had left his gear, and drew out his everburning torch.  Careful to shield the light, so that it only cast a tiny flicker of flame from its source, the cleric went to work. First he took out a small pouch, and used its contents to trace a pattern in the floor, using fine silver dust.  The pattern, once complete, formed a summoning circle some seven feet across.  He drew upon a small amount of his power to invest potency into the circle, closing it.  That task complete, the cleric began to incant.  The spell he cast was similar to the one he had used the day before, when he had called the nycaloth Zuur’ka to his service.  But this spell was far more potent, and each syllable built a reserve of energy that grew to the point where it could almost be felt in the air.  Above the circle, a flickering distortion became visible in the air.  And then, without fanfare, it was done.  The distortion was gone, replaced by a newcomer that stood within the circle.  The new arrival looked human at first glance, but was a bit too lean, his proportions a bit too... off.  He resembled one of the aelfinn, the race that humans called “elves”, but his skin was a dusky gray, and his eyes were vertical slits, with cat-like pupils that shone golden in the faint light from the cleric’s torch. The elf looked down at the silver perimeter of the summoning circle, and his eyes narrowed dangerously.  “You seek into insult me, human?”Ghazaran rose, with some difficulty, and bowed.  “No, Lord Zhunxa.  I was merely being cautious.”  He stepped forward and smudged the perimeter of the circle with his boot.  At once, the elf stepped forward, flexing the muscles of his arms and back.  “In this place, you shall call me Ozmad.  Just Ozmad, you understand?”Ghazaran nodded slightly; he made the gesture seem a grand bow.  “As you command, great lord.”The elf rubbed his arms, as if restoring circulation.  “I was beginning to doubt whether your brain would ever be able to grasp the higher mysteries,” he said.  “Current status.”The cleric seemed unaffected by the elf’s harsh comment, and immediately reported, “We are in the Temple of the Final Sacrament, a few leagues from the main entrance to Rappan Athuk.  We have recovered the third key.  Duke Aerim has been restored to life and has been persuaded to join us, although he is reluctant.  Our enemies are aware of our activities, in a broad sense, but no counterattack has materialized as of yet.”The elf raised one eyebrow at the last statement.  “The Camarians are of no concern; their hierarchy is muddled and divided.  By the time that they are able to respond, it will be too late.”Ghazaran nodded but did not offer further comment.“However, there is need for haste.  There are others working against us; an agent of the Eye was approaching my citadel as you initiated your calling.”“The Eye?  Will they be able to follow you here?”Ozmad looked at the cleric with a desultory expression.  “The agents of the Mind’s Eye are far more effective than your feeble human organizations on this Prime.  That is why I do not intend to give them the opportunity to intervene.  Once we are within the prison, their ability to interrupt our activities becomes almost nil.” “Very well, lord.  It will take a short time to prepare our forces.  With your permission...”The elf waved a hand in dismissal.  As the cleric departed, he walked over to the open arch where Aerim had stood pondering the night not so many hours before.  However, unlike the resurrected knight, the elf’s expression was one of eager anticipation, his lips twisting into a smile that promised grim things to come.</blockquote>

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