Tokens Of Doom - Prologue

PROLOGUE1

LIGHT AND DARK2

He stood lurking in the shadows clothed entirely in black, a figure which did not belong in the magnificent opulent setting which was Nocturne. He felt his lips twist into a rye smile, aware of the condemnation which would be directed his way if they became aware of his presence. They had banished him many moons ago, their arrogance making them certain they could enforce their verdict, but, he thought with amusement, their confidence misled them. He did not bow to their commands and driven by his own curiosity he stood here watching the one standing on the podium fighting a loosing battle.3

His position at the conclusion of a narrow winding staircase which led from the surface deep into the bowels of Napate allowed him to look out into the central cavern which was the meeting place of the Wizard’s who comprised The Council of Light.4

The chamber was beyond compare lit by external light sources via a series of openings in the ceiling. In the centre a raised platform allowed the speaker to address the assembled who sat on stone benches surrounding the podium. To stand there would be an intimidating feat, he decided, watching as the aged man leant forward, a spurt of flames coughing up from the fount standing before the podium to illuminate his weathered and tired features as his gravel tones broke the silence.5

“The Council made the discovery in one split second. They realized that the feelings which they had been struggling to dispel originated from a source which was beyond their comprehension. They realized that an entity which could only be described as the source of evil was instigating the unrest. They named this entity The One and in their naivety devised a plan to neutralize his power. It was a plan which was doomed to fail before it could even be enacted.”6

A snort of derision rose from the assembled, a vocalization of their attitude, it was evident that they had not altered since he had last stood in their presence, they would rather ignore the past than admit their errors. They still believed that their superiority made them impervious to criticism. He watched silently, noting the cunning smile which crept fugitively across the speaker’s lips and with interest he moved forward. The speaker’s intentions would be difficult for other’s to read, but he knew that the elderly man leaning heavily on the podium had no intention of sitting idly by waiting for the inevitable destruction of Napate. He did not hesitate, he acted and from his position within the shadows he felt respect touch him for the one who stood alone confronting those who would rather deny reality than admit the truth.7

“Snort if you like Kyle Wieldgood but you know the history of the previous occupants of this chamber as well as I do. If you think we will fare any better than they did against The One, you are sadly mistaken. Vandorous, the most powerful could not destroy him, he barely managed to contain him and even his work is failing. Do you think when the walls fall The One will hesitate in seeking revenge on the descendants of those who imprisoned him?”8

“Rathboon,” At the quiet serious voice he felt himself tense, emotions better left unstirred awakening at the sound. He drew in a sharp breathe his eyes drawn to the figure which descended from the upper reaches of the chamber, “This assembly was not called to ridicule or undermine the members of the Council. It was called because you indicated that there was a way to succeed.”9

The Wizard at the podium released the scroll within his hands angrily, his green eyes burning, his features white and drawn, a visual indication of the scorn he felt. “There is a way,” He hissed, “But the only one who might have succeeded was banished by this all powerful assembly.” He felt his tension increase, unable to believe the gall of this man to mention this now. The murmurings which rose indicated the discomfort being felt, “Yes, my son, Jerrico Nightspawn. He is the only one who has a chance of retrieving the Tokens of Doom, and they, my fellow Wizards give us a slim chance of success if legend is to be believed.”10

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“Nightspawn,” Vandari knew her voice was strident and loud within the confines of the chamber and she scowled, annoyed that even the mention of his name could affect her. She allowed the murmurs of discontentment to run unchecked as her emotions ran the gauntlet, for her fleeting encounter with Jerrico Nightspawn had touched her deeply, though she knew it would have left no impression on him, she thought as time slipped away and she recalled that day so long ago.12

Her bright eyes clouded over as she recalled dashing into the cavern in search of the scrolls her Father had sent her to fetch. Her black hair had been tied back at her nape and she had been wearing the inconspicuous brown robes of a novice of their order when she had felt a prickling sensation at the base of her spine, interrupting her contemplation of the day’s lessons.13

She had heard a dry chuckle and then a deep voice had spoken from the darkness, “Little Hawk, always so hurried, you will miss the worm if you rush so.” Startled she had whipped around, her eyes caught in the violet stare of the cowled figure, which had arrived at her side in a blink of an eye, so quick she had not noticed him moving.14

“I ….. I …” She stuttered, her confidence shattered.15

A gloved hand reached out to touch her trembling peach coloured lips, “You should return to your rooms, Little Hawk, it is not safe here.” His voice was rough and an involuntary shudder crept down her spine. With his face shrouded in darkness she knew that he embodied the hazard he was referred to. “Evil will often play with the innocent.”16

“Vandari!” At the sound of her Father’s voice she had turned towards the stairwell and as she did so she felt a rush of cold air on her cheek. She had turned back but he was gone, though for a second she thought she had seen something moving hurriedly across the roof of the chamber. Returning her gaze to her Father’s face she was left in no doubt by his expression that what she had thought she had seen he had certainly viewed.17

“Nightspawn is your answer to everything.” The insolent voice brought her mind back to the present abruptly and she raked her hand through her hair, sighing. Now was the time for rational discussion not wayward musings, she chided herself.18

“Council Members we are running out of options,” She said moving from her position at the rear of the Chamber and heading towards the podium where Rathboon glowered at his critics. “Fighting between ourselves is allowing The One time to strengthen his position, let us consider Rathboon’s idea, I am sure he has thought carefully about what he is suggesting.” She attempted to infuse a warning in her tone but as she saw Rathboon’s quick glance she was aware that he was ignoring it. He had been independently arrogant for as long as she could recall, refusing to consider that his ideas were not always the best option.19

“Rathboon, why must we have Nightspawn? You are aware that he was expelled from this Council due to his transgressions. That his …. Talent,” She hesitated, unsure how to phrase her next words, “Is not focused on the light.” Looking into Rathboon’s green eyes she saw mockery dancing within their depths and cursed her hesitation, aware that the other would see it as a sign of weakness, something she could not afford to display.20

“Vandari your Father was a very wise man but he could only see in terms of light and dark.” He looked at her piercingly, “I am talking about the Tokens of Doom – do you understand the significance of my words?”21

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From the stairwell Nightspawn’s mind whirled as the phrase echoed in his head, The Token’s Of Doom. He knew them intimately; he could feel their pull even here in the place where the Light burned the brightest.23

Deep within his soul the ancient verse of evil echoed as if the chant was his life force.24

In the time before the beginning,
The One stood in evil and might.
Fashioning Tokens for his disciples to wield,
To create a World of Darkness and spite.25

For his Bride he conceived,
A Golden Bracelet of Despair.
She would use it to tear hearts apart,
Destroying their will without a care.26

His heir was given a Sword of Dread,
To cleave his enemies flesh and bones apart.
They would become the Army of Undead,
His hoard to rule over the Dark.27

And for his child, his greatest triumph,
The Ring Of Dominance.
Binding souls and destroying free will,
Turning them into slaves for immortality.28

Alone, The Tokens of Doom,
Behold a terrifying destructive power.
Together,
They would hold the World in his thrall.29

His heartbeat accelerated as his senses picked up an unknown vibration, which intensified his unease. The Tokens of Doom called to him every moment of his existence, urging him to go to them, it was a desire he fought desperately on a daily basis, he thought turning clumsily in a bid to escape this place which dredged up unwelcome thoughts. He stumbled, knocking into one of the candles causing the light to waiver and startled he glanced towards his Father, Rathboon. He knew without a doubt that he had betrayed his presence and with his lips tightening he cast a spell and quickly exited the chamber seeking salvation from himself.30

31

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BETRAYAL34

Rathboon froze as the shadows from candles upon the landing moved unexpectedly and he knew without a doubt that Jerrico was here, something he had been unprepared for, he admitted as his emotions heaved in response. He prided himself on being unemotional on the issue of his son, Jerrico Nightspawn, but he knew he was deceiving himself. With an effort he concentrated aware that the Council members were awaiting his reply and this was a rare opportunity to voice his opinion and then he stilled for a high pitched strumming could be heard in the distance. As Vandari opened her mouth to speak and he raised a hand to silence her, concern darkening his features as he noticed that the gold beads which hung around her neck were beginning to glow.35

She glanced down; worry creeping across her features at the glow from the beads. The magical token was attuned to evil and provided an early warning system for the Overseer of the Council. For an instance he considered if Jerrico’s presence could have activated the beads but dismissed the idea out of hand, as the beads glow intensified.36

Flexing her hands, Vandari’s power triggered and a bright yellow glow surrounding her, instinctively he followed suit, his own glow being bright green – a reflection of his bond with nature. 37

“Members -” Vandari’s voice was calm, but held a note of warning, “I feel a threat approaching.” The remaining members of the Council responded accordingly and the Chamber became a multi coloured rainbow. “There is only one way out Rathboon” She said her own concern colouring her words and he frowned.38

“And only one way in,” He finished and they looked towards the stairwell anxiously.39

The chattering sound which only moments ago had been a distant strumming became amplified as the first creatures spilled into the Chamber and automatically Rathboon’s fingers spewed forth a bolt of green fire, incinerating the first of the Demon’s within reach. He was dimly aware that the other members of the Council were rushing down to join the battle, all of them aware that they must be victorious if they were to escape the chamber. They must overcome the hoard if they wished to survive. 40

“They’re Chitterlings.” Kyle murmured as his waves of blue light incinerating the Demon’s. He joined Rathboon to flank the Overseer and between them they cleared the first wave of the minor Demons.41

“Chitterlings aren’t usually this aggressive.” Rathboon raised his voice to be heard over the din of Wizard’s magic.42

Vandari was glancing at the Council Members, gauging the strength of their resistance. “If we form a circle we may be able to break through the tide.”43

Rathboon also cast his gaze around his colleagues for though the Chitterling’s were no match for a Wizard’s power this combined assault would eventually wear them down. To his right, a Chitterling with skittering steps had managed to come closer, intent on a novice, Lisle, who shot out a light yellow flame from her palms to destroy the creature. As he watched the flame reached the Chitterling who turned on its four spidery limbs contorting its body so its head took the full brunt of the power. Rathboon paused, his eyes widening in shocked surprise as the Chitterling’s thin skull expanded and its forked tongue flipped out emitting a bright red flame back towards Lisle.44

Lisle screamed once, as her body was consumed in flames and the Chitterling continued towards the remaining Council Members seemingly unfazed by its new ability to return power which had been wielded to destroy it.45

“Immobilize them.” He yelled, as the noise reached a crescendo. He saw Kyle’s puzzled glance, but the Wizard changed his tactics, sending a blue fire into the limbs of the approaching Chitterling to cripple it.46

“Rathboon this will not work, there are too many of them for us.” Vandari’s breathing was hurried, but an aura of calm still radiated from her.47

“They have power Vandari; if we stay we will perish.”48

Vandari glanced at him quickly, Chitterlings were minor Demons, if they could challenge the Council it did not bode well for the future.49

As another anguished shriek pierced the din Rathboon knew that he could not afford to hesitate. The Council of Light’s members were sworn to protect the Overseer. It was their duty to ensure Vandari survived even if it meant they were sacrificed as a result.50

“Kyle we must get Vandari out of here.” The other Wizard nodded. “If we send out a wave of power it should temporarily stun them.”51

In reply Kyle grabbed his hand and Rathboon knew a moment’s uncertainty. By joining hands Kyle was relinquishing his power to Rathboon until the bond was broken. When a chain of fifteen Wizards formed the key in the chain could wield enormous power, unfortunately the other links in the chain were incapable of defending themselves, a chilling thought for all involved.52

“Rathboon you can’t do this.” Vandari insisted her fingers moving sporadically, trying to keep up with the ever increasing throng of Chitterlings, but her words were in vain for the other members of the Council were relinquishing control to him even as she protested. They were aware of their oath and the odds were not difficult to comprehend.53

“Vandari get ready to run, head for Chamberlain’s Mount.” He instructed and saw comprehension in her eyes as his surrounds went black as the chain was completed and he became a vessel of power waiting for the moment to act.54

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Vandari watched, aware that she had one chance and one chance only to escape. The chain was currently eighteen links long, leaving the remaining Wizards the task of protecting their fellow Council Members. She took a deep breath awaiting the wave of power, still throwing out her own fire to cripple the onslaught of Chitterlings which continued to pour down the staircase.56

Suddenly the air pulsed and along the line of Wizard’s a multicolored hue rippled through the air. Its effect was immediate as the Chitterling’s froze in their movements and Vandari forced herself to move towards the throng in an effort to reach the stairwell.57

A quick glance backwards ascertained that the power generated would keep all motionless until it was exhausted and motivated her to combine her own strength and magic to move with agonizing slowness, feeling the force of the power hamper her movements.58

Upon reaching the stairwell the hopelessness of the situation was clarified as she looked up the winding staircase. The number of Chitterling’s far exceeded her own expectations and momentarily she considered retreating to join her comrades for her own power may be what was required to beat them, she thought, and then dismissed the idea. She could not belittle the sacrifice that they were willing to make for her.59

Dodging under the Chitterlings bodies, pushing around their long spidery limbs, she moved with mind numbing slowness towards the surface, fear making the silence seem threatening, even though it was an indication of the other’s success and afforded her the luxury of unimpeded progress. As she moved around another Chitterling she saw that it was capable of watching her progress and with determination she continued her fight up the dark flight of stairs towards the early morning light.60

Upon exiting the chamber she found herself panting from the effort it had taken her to oppose the power of those in the Chamber below and she felt her limbs tremble with relief. The edge of the woods was some metres away, but once in the forest she could move without fear towards Chamberlain’s Mount and the safety it afforded. With a half smile she realized that she could call on Chamberlain to come to the rescue of the other Council members and the idea instantly brought a sense of relief to her highly agitated mind.61

She glanced quickly around and then ran across the clearing towards the sanctuary of the woods.62

“Aaaaarhhh.” The high pitched scream made her glance towards the sky and with a sense of impending doom she watched terrified as a winged beast started a sharp descent heading straight towards her.63

The beast was huge, Vandari thought, staring stunned as it landed in front of her on its hind legs. It was a winged Demon with heavy leather wings that protruded from the centre of its back. Over its shoulders it wore a saddle and she could only guess what sort of creature would feel compelled to take a ride with a beast that stood as tall as a Rock Troll. The creature was not muscular but it had a strong frame and as it stood staring at her with its dark compelling gaze she knew it was as home on the ground as it had been in the air. It’s features hinted at an even more compelling mystery, for though she had assumed it was a creature which relied on its strength and might, the red rimmed eyes which stared at her glowed with cunning and intelligence, a fact which was daunting to identify. As its heavy set jaw dropped open, she moved back a step, unnerved by the fangs which protruded sharply from the beast’s gums, covered with a dark red substance which could only be blood. This Demon, Vandari thought, might have already had a snack, but dinner was still on its agenda.64

As it reached out it’s long muscular arm to touch her cheek with unhurried movements, it’s surety of its own superiority in this situation was terrifying and she flinched as it’s talon cut her cheek, fear holding her frozen, a victim of her own terror.65

“Aaaaarhhh.” As a scream echoed from the chamber below she felt her trance break, reality sinking in and she flicked her fingers, sending a sharp wave of fire out to severe the talon which had been caressing her cheek.66

“Kaltak.” It shrieked and she stumbled narrowly avoiding falling. She shrank away from its ugly black head which snapped inches from her face and she saw the insides of its red, slime coated mouth intimately.67

Quickly she pushed herself up and with fear giving her feet flight; she ran terror stricken towards the edge of the woods. Instinct suggesting that salvation could be found within the trees.68

She ran mindlessly, branches hitting her as she weaved between the mighty trees of Askabar Forest. There was no concerted thought about where she was headed, only mindless panic as she endeavored to avoid the winged Demon in pursuit.69

She could hear it following in her wake, seemingly unperturbed by her furious pace and as the woods became denser she momentarily believed that she had outsmarted the beast pursuing her. Then suddenly she realized that she was headed on a downward slope and she cast a frightened glance upwards seeing what she had feared. Her mindless panic had led her to Deathbrook Gorge, a dead end surrounded by sheer impenetrable cliffs. Vandari glanced over her shoulder aware she was trapped.70

She turned to face the creature, backing towards the cliff face, trying to calm her racing pulse.71

“Overseer….” The creature murmured, in a low guttural tone and Vandari started, she had been unaware that the beast could communicate and it dawned that this had been no random coincidence. “The One will be pleased when the Birth Beads are returned; he might give me your body to play with.” It let out a high pitched shriek, which might have been laughter and she shot out a wave of power, hoping to blind it and find a more defensible position.72

The wave of power hit it directly in the face and a roar of anger was emitted from its fanged mouth. She screamed once as a clawed hand snapped out, slapping her across the face. Dazed she fell to the ground, senses ringing from the fury of the blow.73

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As Jerrico bent to enter the cave the first thing he noticed was the fire burning bright blue in the stone fireplace at the far end of the room. The fire radiated hearty warmth, which brought a pleased smile to his features, giving momentary respite from the feeling of anxiety which had been his constant companion since he had left Nocturne.75

He sighed aware that his continued return to this place was becoming far to easy, but being out in the cold tonight might have caused him to take actions that he would have regretted later, at least here restraint was possible. A slight smile curved his mouth for if his suspicions were correct the previous occupant had imbedded certain attributes into this dwelling to make it welcoming to the occupants, he thought as he moved silently to the ledges that were carved into the walls above the sleeping alcove to consider the many volumes that were shelved there. He had never been particularly studious but with dawn approaching he knew that he must try to answer some of the questions which were racing through his mind.76

His gloved hand reached out to touch one of the ancient texts which rested on the ledge and for a moment he hesitated, before pulling the old tattered book from its position and moving to the table which stood in front of the fireplace.77

Seating himself he placed the closed book on the table and murmured the title of the book aloud, “Castings Of Napate.” He believed this volume had a seeking spell cast upon it, but he had never had reason to test the theory until now, he thought, resting his hand and knocking twice on the leather cover.78

“Tokens Of Doom.” He said loudly.79

He waited patiently and as the Book opened a smile touched his lips and he leaned forward to read what the Book had chosen to reveal from within its yellowing pages, “In the Time after the banishing the Tokens of Doom were concealed to prevent misuse. It was rumored that Vandorous tried to destroy them, but the power stored inside made them indestructible.” Jerrico sighed; it was a failing of seeking spells that they only located passages which contained the exact words spoken. He brushed his hand across the page and the words altered to reveal another snapshot from a volume stored somewhere in time.80

This verse was written in ancient Kroux, the language of a race of demons. “Bracelet, glittering like eyes feasting in the sight of innocence. Sword, cut meat and bone, never break. Ring, don’t touch. Burns like the fire of evil. Tokens of Doom – He says do not bring together, unless world needs to be torn apart.”81

It was an interesting passage, Jerrico thought as he leaned back to gaze deeply into the fire, relaxing the chains in his mind. Breathing deeply and rhymically, he shuddered as his shadow on the cavern’s wall began to change, reflecting the transformation he was undergoing.82

His violet eyes became narrow, the colour changing to a blood red as the texture of his skin became rough and heavily pitted. Lips became thin lines and he groaned as two fangs cut through his gums. His body was becoming taller, his shoulders broader and with a loud ripping sound, two wings, leathery and black ripped through the fabric of his cloak, to flex menacingly in the firelight. His body was matted with a fine fur, talons emerging from his hands and feet as he completed his transformation to a Kroux.83

“Meat,” He muttered in a deep guttural tone, sniffing the scent of fear that lingered in the air. He was aware of the joy of hunger that he had struggled too long to control. Then he frowned, taking a grip on his thoughts, aware that this dangerous process had been enacted to gain vital knowledge. “Tokens…. Of….Doom.” He growled deliberately.84

The images which flitted through his mind were similar to a light being lit in the dungeons of Krutheral. First a dark cave, many leagues beneath the surface. Skitter, skitter, evil little creatures scampering though dark tunnels, and there, suspended, the pretty trinket. Saliva beaded at the end of his fangs, the desire to possess making him ache physically. Vision changing – water and dark and fear touched him. In a trench, many metres beneath the waters surface, he could just see the glittering of the blade, untouched by decades of submergence in the cold blue water. Scared, he shrank back from the picture, water was bad. Another disjointed picture, lovely fire, a river of molten lava and then something more sinister. Something else watching, anger coursed through his veins and he hissed menacingly. Then, so quickly that he almost missed it, a disjointed picture he did not understand. Bracelet, Sword, Ring – one. He dismissed the image, aware of his hunger and the sweet scent of meat emanating from the meal was nearby. It was time to feed.85

“Aaaaarhhh”86

“Noooooo….” He screamed, using his supreme strength of will to banish the Kroux back into his body. Slowly the wings reabsorbed, his eyes changed and he began to reassemble his normal appearance. Shaking, he leant back in his chair for support, perspiration beading on his forehead. It was one thing to use the beast, another to become it, he thought, angry at his lack of control.87

As time passed unchecked he frowned, recalling what had broken the beasts hold upon him. The scream he had heard belonged to Vandari he realized, stumbling from the shelter of the cave, his senses still attuned to the location of what he had been considering his next meal.88

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He would never recall how he had reached the top of the cliff face which surrounded Deathbrook Gorge but as he gazed down he knew with a chilling certainty that he did not want to face what stood below towering over the crumbled figure of Vandari.90

He flexed his hands decisively as he saw the figure bend over the still form and he winced as nails as sharp as knives and stronger than rocks tore through the skin of his fingers. Without a moments hesitation he dropped over the edge of the cliff and descended head first to what he felt certain would be a confrontation to change his life. The claws easily gained purchase on the rugged cliff face and he descended rapidly towards the figures below. His watched the movements of the beast as it bent over its victim, intent upon seizing some unknown object and he felt anger course through his veins, as he imaged the terror the Overseer would be feeling. Abruptly he withdrew his talons and spreading his arms wide, free fell the last metres to drop silently next to the unconscious figure.91

The demon pulled itself upright to look into eyes which were uncanningly similar, hatred and desire burning within their depths and Jerrico pulled back the hood of his cape to glare at the menacing figure, detesting what he could never deny.92

“Nightspawn,” The Demon growled and Jerrico eyed him warily.93

“Demi-Kroux,” He spat back, silently acknowledging the similarities between them. They were both bitterly determined, the battle a challenge that neither could resist, with only one conclusion likely. As he watched the Demon closely he saw the drops of deadly poison beading on the Demon’s fangs and felt his own lust for death rise in response. He hunched his shoulders and licked his lips, senses razor sharp, poised to strike.94

As the Demon’s burning red eyes looking him up and down he knew the other could see what the Council of Light suspected – the capacity for evil he carried inside. “I thought I smelt a Kroux earlier, are we ready to spawn?”95

“Get away from her.” He growled, ignoring the others taunt.96

“What will you do to stop me?”97

“Whatever it takes,” Jerrico said, aware of the truth echoing within his words and he saw the Demon still as he moved closer. A growl rising from his throat as blood lust surged through his veins.98

Demi-Kroux hissed, “I know you Jerrico, your Father may try to convince you that you are capable of selecting your own path but evil is inherent inside you. Every time you use your powers you become more like us.”99

“I will destroy myself before I am anything like you Demi-Kroux.” He snarled furiously feeling rage well up inside. As his appearance altered he whispered warningly, “Do not push me, you will regret it.” He warned.100

“Why? Will you absorb me as you did your own Mother?”101

The Demon’s taunts ignited the rage which was barely within his control and without a second thought he hit Demi-Kroux a glancing blow of burning white flames from his talons. The Demon responded immediately, his claws impaling Jerrico’s shoulder and he shuddered from the crippling pain as blood spurted across the Demon’s face. As he circled the Demi-Kroux licked the substance with it’s forked tongue and Jerrico lashed out with a cruel thrust his talons tearing the leathery fabric of the Demon’s wings. The other let out a soul-piercing shriek and instinctively leaned forward to sink his cruel fangs into Jerrico’s neck and distribute his deadly payload. With reflexes as fast as light he turned his face so that their lips interlocked, an unholy pleasure taking hold as he sucked in, seeing the fear burgeoning in the Demon’s eyes. Using the Dark Powers that he had inherited, Jerrico did what he was best at and absorbed the Demon’s energy source. A Dark Chant pulsed in his mind as he captured the Demi-Kroux’s soul with the power he was exerting from his lungs, aware that the body which had housed the Demon was dehydrating as its essence was removed. The shell was becoming smaller and Jerrico could feel the Dark Forces crying out for release. With a vicious intent, he trapped the Demon within and one last ripple pulsed through the empty husk as it fell to the ground, he looked at it dispassionately, evil desires thrumming through his veins. With a concerted effort he drew a deep cleansing breath, trying to dull the pained scream echoing within his soul.102

Reluctantly he pulled his cloak away from his translucent skin and looked in at the visage of Demi-Kroux which was glaring at him balefully aware that its existence was altered. He kept his powers secret, unwilling to reveal his ability to draw life forces into himself – absorbing personalities and powers so they became his own. As he watched a multitude of faces superseded each other, all victims of his horrid craft. Absorbing was the easy part, he thought, bile rising in his throat, controlling their urges was the difficult endeavour.103

The Council of Light had been correct to banish him, he thought wearily, glancing with ill concealed frustration at Vandari’s still form, acknowledging that it was a burden he could do without.104

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With a start Vandari awoke, her last memory replaying vividly within her mind and opening her green eyes she looked out at the scene before her, fear at the forefront of her mind. Raising a shaking hand, she let her fingertips trace the deep scratches upon her cheek feeling the stickiness of drying blood and with the confirmation that all was as she recalled she felt shock set in and her teeth begin to chatter as she shivered. 106

Cautiously she looked around, aware that she had been moved from Deathbrook Gorge and now leant against a large tree within the midst of Askabar Forest and gingerly she raised her head to look through the foliage, aware from the sun’s brightness that noontide was approaching. As she absorbed the information, her fear returned, she had been insensible for hours, unconscious and at something’s mercy. The fact she remained alive did little to ease her disquiet, she thought as the sound of a creaking branch broke the silence, suggesting whoever had moved her to this location could well be returning. She felt herself tense instinctively, aware that the fate of the Council rested in her hands and she could not afford to become a victim. Gathering her determination she turned in the direction of the noise her eyes widening at the sight of a tall muscular man heading towards her, his expression stony. Rescuer or rogue, she wondered warily as she studied his features seeking clarification.107

He had dark eyes with two finely arched brows, which emphasized his dramatic colouring. She couldn’t perceive the colour of his eyes from the shadows of the trees but they had a penetrating quality which seemed to delve right into her soul. His face seemed sharp in profile, the nose was aquiline and his cheekbones were high and she noted with interest as he moved closer that the dark hair which was pulled back from his face had uncovered pointed ears which revealed an interesting point concerning his heritage. He was of mixed blood, she thought, as he frowned down at her, aware of the fact that she knew nothing of this man who studied her so intently.108

He slowed as he neared leaving a comforting distance between them, obviously aware of her nervousness, “This is for you.” He said slowly, his deep voice making her aware that she was alone and at his mercy. He held something out and she realized that it was a moist cloth. “It’s for your cheek.” He said gesturing at the cut she had suffered from the Demon. “You need to clean it; there may be poison in the wound.”109

“Oh.” She reached for the cloth, aware that she had not even considered the consequences of the Demon’s attack, “Where is it? What was it?” She asked feeling her tension increase. As she gazed at his face it seemed to darken and she admitted that this man seemed too knowledgeable to have just happened by.110

“Demi-Kroux,” He growled roughly and she noted that he seemed ill at ease. “You need not concern yourself with him.” He said with a cold-hearted finality which was dreadful to behold. In an attempt to appear calm she raised the cloth to her cheek and wiped at the blood.111

Taking a deep breath she pushed herself to her feet and summoned all of the dignity she could, “I thank you for your assistance.” She stated firmly as she looked around attempting to obtain her bearings, “I must be going now.”112

At her words he chuckled dryly, placing his hands on his hips as he addressed her mockingly, “Am I dismissed, Little Hawk?” He queried meeting her eyes, “I’m afraid I can’t let you go until you’ve answered a few questions for me.”113

She felt her heartbeat quicken, aware that she had misjudged this dark stranger and instinctively she rose to her feet intent on escaping. As she ran she glanced back over her shoulder, relief touching her as she realized that he was not pursuing and as she turned back she found herself slamming into a broad chest. Unnerved she looked up into a pair of impatient violet eyes, “How …. How did you do that?” She stuttered breathlessly.114

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As pain lanced his shoulder he gritted his teeth, seeing the terror in The Overseer’s eyes and silently he cursed his own impatience. Many things called out for his attention – the wound he bore, the fate of his Father and now Vandari Starcaster’s emotional torment and with barely concealed frustration he caught her hands between his own, feeling her shiver as his warmth penetrated her skin.116

“Vandari what happened to the Council?” He asked, trying to stem the aggravation which touched him and he saw her eyes widen as her cheeks flushed.117

“What do you know of the Council? Who are you? How do you know my name?” He felt his brow crease into a frown at her bevy of questions. It was not difficult to understand her distress given her encounter with the Demi-Kroux, but his own agenda demanded he dismiss her hysteria, he decided, aware that the figure he presented would appear menacing to the woman whose hands he held in his iron grasp.118

“Tell me what happened,” He demanded ruthlessly, leaning forward menacingly and he felt his heartbeat accelerate as terror crept into her expression and she looked at his stricken.119

“We were attacked by Chitterlings,” Her voice was low and urgent and as his expression darkened he knew she could see the doubt in his features and hurriedly she continued, “They have evolved, they were using our powers against us and their numbers were such that it was only a matter of time before we were overrun.” As her eyes skirted away from his own he ruthlessly applied pressure, aware that she was attempting to conceal information. Releasing his grip on her hands he forced her chin up until her eyes met his own, “Rathboon initiated a chain to allow me to escape,” She muttered mutinously, “He urged me to seek the assistance of Chamberlain and his son ….” Her voice trailed off and he felt his annoyance rise, aware that his identity had been discovered.120

He met her gaze, his expression impassive as her features relaxed and he felt himself tense in response. He was not bound to the Council and he had no intention of swearing an oath, he thought as bitterness rose in response to the pleading within Vandari’s eyes. He felt his jaw tighten as she continued her tone confident.121

“Rathboon believes you can locate the Tokens with Chamberlain’s assistance,” She remarked and he felt his gall rise at the assumption she made so effortlessly.122

That she had completely misjudged him was blatantly apparent and as he released her chin he turned contemplating his options. He did not doubt that Rathboon had sent Vandari to Chamberlain for protection – the other’s reputation proceeded him, but he hesitated to consign the fate of the Council and more importantly his Father’s fate to an uninitiated mercenary who was uninformed of the dangers involved. As he reached up to rub his shoulder he admitted reluctantly that he could not abandon those who had turned against him and he swung back meeting the Overseer’s wide eyes.123

“You assume too much Overseer,” He muttered, aware that the confident woman who confronted him was a far cry from the one he had rescued and he wondered how much of what he saw was a façade. “You believe they still exist to be rescued,” As he vocalized his concerns she paled but he continued on regardless of the pain his words inflicted, “I will meet you tomorrow at first light at Chamberlain’s Mount.” He stated abruptly.124

“But this cannot wait,” She exclaimed, reaching out to grab his arm and he winced at the sudden movement, his shoulder aching in response. Automatically she released her hold, her eyes widening, “You’re injured.”125

“That happens when you destroy Demon’s,” He muttered, “I am going to ascertain whether my Father survives. You will wait for me to join you – if you take rash actions I will exact my revenge.” He stated seeing understanding finally dawn on her.126

Abruptly he turned, he needed to prepare for what was too come.127

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PURPOSE AND PURSUIT142

Vandari cursed and rubbed her brow, aggravated with herself as she wandered in an aimless fashion towards Summerston River. For years she had been trained by her Father to rule, to be a leader of the Council of Light and she had aspired to live up to his expectations. She had mastered her talents, she had leant diplomacy, she had become adept at reading people and utilizing their resources and then in one moment she had completely lost her way. She looked up at the setting sun perplexed by the recent events, she had faced powerful men before and stared them down, she was not a weak willed person but Jerrico Nightspawn defied her understanding. As she came to the intersection which led to the bridge that crossed over the sparkling waters of Summerston, it struck her that she had witnessed a similar situation previously and her lips narrowed to a thin line for her behavior reminded her of her mother’s, she thought with a sense of displeasure.143

Her Mother had been an ordinary village girl who had caught her Father’s heart with her charm and she had often wondered if her Father had regretted the dalliance which had led to her own birth. If he had, he had kept it to himself. What her Father had been unable to conceal was his lack of tolerance at his wives constant badgering that he leave the order. It had been beyond her comprehension why her Mother would want to separate herself from the magic and wonder which was the Council of Light and she recalled her own resentment when her Father would leave her at home so he could complete an important task.144

When her Father had left to rid them of The Tokens of Doom that she had observed the pitiful levels her Mother was prepared to stoop to, to have her own way and gazing into the distance she recalled the unpleasant scene.145

She had been eleven years old and unbeknown to her parents she had been in the cellar practicing her spells when she had heard her Father’s voice from the kitchen above. She had crept up the stairs to peek out and watch the confrontational scene as it unfolded.146

“Do not tell me what I can and can’t do woman, do not badger me about overstepping, about exceeding boundaries, do you know what these are? What they are capable of? What they can do separately and together.” Vandorous hissed, staring at his wife with a mixture of frustration and incrimination etched on his features.147

“Vandorous, I know, I understand, but I need you here. If you go I don’t know what I will do, I don’t know what will happen.” Teresa held out her hands in an imploring gesture, her simple cotton dress pulled tight against her increasing waistline, tears glistening in her eyes.148

Vandari felt her ire rise; her lips compressing in fury, for her Mother would use anything to make her Father bend to her will. As she turned her gaze onto her Father she knew he was torn. He would put the Order before his own life for he was a true leader, she assured herself confidently.149

“Teresa you will be safe, I wouldn’t put you in harms way but I have to rid us of these Tokens of Doom.” He spat the words out, as if saying them tainted the air he breathed. “Do you want them here when the babe is born?” He reasoned patiently, but by the look of anguish on her Mother’s face, Vandari knew her Father’s words were failing on deaf ears. Her Mother would not be happy unless her Father delegated the task and remained by her side, Vandari knew, aware that her Father would not let others place themselves at risk, just so he could fulfil a woman’s whim.150

“Vandorous, you can’t go….. I don’t care about them.” She ranted throwing her arms dramatically into the air. “I need you here, I’m scared.”151

Vandorous sighed, “I have to go Teresa. I’m sorry.” He said, turning to place the items on the table into the large pockets of his cloak and Vandari’s stomach turned as her Mother dropped to her knees and began keening her face concealed within her hands.152

“Teresa, this is not helping. I won’t be gone long; I’ll be back by the birth.” He said quietly, packing with a studious determination, but her Mother kept keening and shrieking as if he was deserting her forever.153

With disgust etched upon her face she watched as her Father prepared to leave. She wanted to run and tell him how proud she was, but the scene was uncomfortable and she knew her Father would not want her to intrude.154

“Teresa,” He said in a sincere tone, “I will be back.” The voice he used begged for understanding and conveyed sympathy, but Teresa remained locked within her grief.155

Vandari watched her Father depart, hoping her Mother would also leave the kitchen, but when she remained she lost the little enduring part of respect she had held for her Mother and moving out of the trapdoor she came to stand beside her Mother’s forlorn figure.156

As she neared she realized that her Mother was muttering to herself and with a concerted effort deciphered what she was saying repeatedly, “I won’t be, I won’t be, I won’t be,” She said like a litany and Vandari felt something inside snap.157

“Grow up.” She shouted, raising her hand and slapping her Mother forcefully across the cheek. She recalled her gasp, as her nails racked across her Mother’s delicate skin and drew blood which mixed with the tears and fell to the floor. She remembered her hand catching in the necklace, she thought, reaching up to her own throat to touch the remaining beads, recalling the loss of two on that day.158

Teresa had looked at her shocked and uncomprehending and she had felt heartless in that moment, turning tail and running in the wake of her Father’s departure. She remembered thinking she had heard her Mother scream, but Vandari thought as she toyed with her necklace, her Mother had always been melodramatic.159

She could recall returning later that evening to find her Mother gone and she had assumed that she had run away again. It had been a week later when the gruesome discovery of Teresa’s remains was made by one of the Wizards, savaged by wolves. Her Father had blamed himself for her Mother’s death and the disappearance of the babe, which she had later discovered was born prior to her Mother’s death, though no trace of it had been found. Vandari sighed, her Mother’s cowardice had not only taken her own life but that of her sibling and she knew that she would never be like her Mother, she thought with determination.160

As she looked up to focus on Summerston River and the bridge she needed to locate to reach Chamberlain’s Mount, she became aware that the beads around her neck were glowing faintly and she glanced around with concern. It was hard to dismiss the early warning system after all she had endured in the last few hours, she thought, eyes darting anxiously trying to determine the source of the latest threat, but nothing seemed apparent. She rubbed the beads, their familiarity giving her a sense of reassurance as she recalled the Demon’s marked interest in them, idly counting their number. She frowned deeply and looked down, real concern etched on her features, there was only six, where was the seventh? She wondered, and why had the Demon called them Birth Beads? It was a term she had never heard before.161

A rustle in the woods caused her to glance up anxiously and she saw a she wolf loitering in her wake. Now was not the time to be concerned with minor distractions there were dangers enough to be avoided in Askabar Forest, Vandari thought, continuing downstream in search of the bridge.162

******************************************163

The bitter smell of smoke tainted his nostrils as he scanned the horizon blinded by the glare of the noon day sun. As his vision sharpened hr caught a glint of sun reflected off steel in the distance and he stamped his feet feeling a mixture of anticipation, dread and impatience as a cloud of dust rose from the barren earth beneath his feet. He was vaguely aware of the beads of sweat trickling down his spine and beading on his forehead but he made no move to wipe his face or relax his posture for the smell of death was too persuasive keeping him locked in a wary battle stance. He stood in formation with others of his ilk, all grasped their weapons, their scars evidence of their experience, but it was what he could sense just beyond the horizon that kept his attention fixed.164

“Heads my men, tails we send in the scum.” A voice broke the uneasy silence and a murmur could be heard arising from the armed men surrounding him. He shrugged, for though his attention was focused on the battle field, the words brought the taint of bitterness to his mouth.165

“Madman,” The man standing beside him muttered as he lifted his shield and he glanced at his bearded companion noting that he too was more focused on the grim scene in front of them rather than the mocking scene behind.166

It disturbed him that the bare field had no cover, just endless dirt beneath a burning sun. The few trees were in the distance, sporting carrion birds which occasionally rose, as if to assess the upcoming opportunities but no other life could be perceived. Only experience advised of the grim reality that an army was hovering just out of sight.167

“Looks like we get to see what we paid for.” He heard the instigator of this melee boast and he threw a contemptuous glance over his shoulder as a mighty boom sounded and a large boulder thudded into the ground raising a cloud of dust. He huddled down warily peering into the distance, feeling the vibrations through the ground which indicated that their assumptions had been correct and mounted troops were bearing down on them. With the ease of practice he fell to his knees and raised his shield over his head to become part of the barricade, a well practiced strategy of the mercenaries which stood beside him.168

The aim of the barricade was to deceive, for the enemy bearing down on them would be certain they would be trampled beneath the horses hooves, but once they were committed to their action, he would, like the others surrounding him, raise his sword to sever the horses tendons, crippling the steeds so the riders would become vulnerable. Hand to hand combat would then commence.169

The moment seemed to be upon him in seconds and within the dust the mad shriek of horses in agony sounded and then the violence and brutality of hand to hand combat began. The men who surrounded him were experienced, hardened veterans and soon the dust was settling and he looked around into tired, drawn faces, to see with satisfaction that the majority still stood – injured, but alive.170

He turned to the man beside him as the other vocalized his own thoughts, “He must feel now that it was money well spent.”171

It was a remark alluding to their trade, he thought, frowning as he tried to see through the dust which still hung thick in the air.172

“You know there should be a place which is safe for us, somewhere we hold sway, where we can run when things go wrong, a bolt hole for mercenaries.” His comrade complained bitterly, as he lifted his sword, to wipe the drying blood from its blade. It was an action he never completed for as Chamberlain watched, his comrade fell backwards into the arms of death, an arrow protruding from his chest.173

******************************************174

Jerrico bit back a curse as he stood leaning against the grotto’s archway his shoulder aching as the Demon’s poison was slowly absorbed into his body. Sweat was beading on his brow and he shivered as a chill penetrated his bones and down to his very core. He reached up to wipe his brow with the sleeve of his cloak, aware that at this moment he felt as torn internally as his shoulder was externally. For a part of him wanted to hide away, lick his wounds and forget who and what he was. Ruthlessly he stymied the thought for he knew he could not afford to think in that way. He needed to know what must be done; he needed to determine whether his actions could influence the outcome of the events which had been set into motion this day.175

With a careless flick of his fingers he showered the room in sparks, which scattered across the room to light the torches which sat in the four corners of the cave. He glanced around as he pushed himself upright, considering the room before him and the mystery it held, one he had been unsuccessful in unraveling.176

He had chanced upon the grotto by pure luck, dredging up a random memory from one of the souls within – a wood nymph. He had been tired and angry, failing in his efforts to control the evil which dogged him relentlessly, he recalled bitterly, admitting that this seemed more often the case. It had seemed fate when a memory of a quiet peaceful place had risen in his mind to displace the anger he endured and he had grasped at the solitude that seemed within his reach eagerly, retracing the nymph’s steps until he had reached what he believed would be a sanctuary. As with everything else in his existence, he had discovered that what he had sought and what he had found were miles apart, he thought looking around with feelings bordering on contempt.177

From his position at the entrance three steps led down to the floor which was etched from solid ice, and reflected in the torches glow, giving the impression that the grotto stretched into the distance. Jerrico thought with a wire smile, though it was little more than an alcove. The ceiling was hung with icicles which dripped relentlessly adding layer upon layer of ice and the walls were like frozen waves glistening coldly. He glanced reluctantly towards the rear wall feeling the malignant evil emanating from the mirror which hung there, ill concealed dislike in his stare. Black and vacant within its wrought iron frame, it seemed to be awaiting his call, he thought as he considered the inscription which was engraved on its tarnished frame. He could still recall the curiosity which had touched him as he had studied the script for it reminded him of the language of the rock trolls and it had puzzled him that the mirror hung here so far from where it obviously belonged, but given the fact that time was one commodity he had in abundance he had set out to translate the text. The script was an incantation to activate the mirror’s power, he had deduced and reluctantly he read it aloud his voice echoing hollowly within the room. 178

“Open your mind, call forth your guide. See now, see far, see without law. Do not fear, death has needs, but be aware of what you feed.”179

He sighed with weariness, as he strode across the icy floor to stand before the mirror. With his mind decided h grasped his only chance to determine the Council’s fate though it chilled him to the bone. As he knelt in front of the mirror, he felt the coldness of the ice beneath his knees, biting into his flesh and as he chanted the incantation upon the mirror’s frame in a cold, single minded manner, he felt the evil within the chamber surge and intently he centered his thoughts on Rathboon, aware of his overwhelming desire to know if it was his destiny to find that which could only destroy.180

******************************************181

Chamberlain sat up abruptly, waking from the haunting dream which had claimed him as the sounds of a scuffle broke the uneasy nighttime silence. As he bent down to pull on his boots he admitted he was not a patient man and the daily increase in petty disputes and disturbances was trying his temper.182

Impatiently he stood and looked out of the arched window, to the dusty laneway below, resting his scarred hands on the ledge as his green eyes narrowed. The fight had spilled out of an open doorway into the alleyway below, he thought as he watched the combatants and then his lip twisted as he recognized his partner in crime, Maximus, following closely behind.183

Maximus was in a typical state, his short frame clothed in a loose fitting robe, which was torn and frayed at the hem. He held in one hand a cane which he leant on heavily as he dragged his right leg. He told everyone that he had an old war injury but it was a lie, for he had never been injured and in a fight Maximus was as able bodied as the next man. Like all experienced soldiers, Maximus relied on his instincts and his hand hovered near his belt allowing him to draw his duel edged swords rapidly if needed.184

Chamberlain continued to observe Maximus, aware that he had not been sighted from the distance. With Maximus’ wiry frame obscured beneath his oversized robes and his long black hair obscured his features, little could be described of the other, but from long association Chamberlain could picture the finely chiseled profile, high cheekbones and narrow nose which gave Maximus a slightly ravenous expression belying his good nature and quick wit.185

They had fought side by side for a number of years, their separate skills complementing each other, he was a studious fighter who was practical and Maximus’ street talent made him resourceful. The small wiry man with a hearty laugh and a natural talent with the ladies, was a man he was glad to have by his side, Chamberlain thought, as he watched Maximus push his way past the street brawl and continue down the lane way. “Maximus,” Chamberlain called from the window, “Join me for a drink.”186

Maximus waved his hand as he broke into a slow trot and Chamberlain moved over to his chest where he kept a stash of Tembura for such occasions. The lethal brew was a favorite amongst the men who frequented Chamberlain’s Mount, he thought, as he looked into the mirror which hung on the wall behind the wooden war chest. If the town ever ran dry he would have a hell of a fight on his hands.187

As he met the eyes of his reflection, he scowled aware he was looking every one of his 29 years, for the trials and tribulations he had faced seemed to be etched into every line on his face. His skin was pale and drawn, his green eyes underlined by dark shadows and a nerve jumped erratically at the corner of his thin lipped grimace. Sighing, he pushed a hand through his shortly cropped raven hair and frowned darkly.188

“Is the drink that bad? I can go back to the inn if it is.”189

He started, turning to face Maximus who stood inside the stone arch. “I didn’t see you come in.” He stated absently. He prided himself on his powers of observation; a mercenary relied on such things to survive.190

“Maybe your eyes are going.” Maximus murmured amusement apparent in his tone. “Or you were too busy admiring yourself. Has Vandari been telling you what a handsome boy you are again?” Maximus mocked as he moved to the window.191

Chamberlain shrugged, trying to dispel a feeling of unease which was settling upon him. “I haven’t seen her today, there was a Council meeting. You know how involved she becomes in those.”192

“She takes her position very seriously. You know you’ll never compete with The Council of Light. A mere soldier and the Overseer, I hope you haven’t got your heart set on a happily ever after.”193

Chamberlain felt his hackles rise as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Maximus was only vocalizing what he already knew, he thought as he clenched his glass tightly in his fist, but anger swelled up inside. He looked down realizing that he had cracked his wine glass and a mixture of Tembura and blood was staining his hand.194

“Damn.” He muttered feeling foolish at overreacting to his friend’s words.195

“What a waste of good alcohol.” Maximus smiled good-naturedly but Chamberlain couldn’t help feeling that he was being mocked. As he wiped his hand on his oil stained rag his pensive thoughts were broken by the tolling of the Auger Bell. Maximus started for the Auger Bell only ever announced one thing - danger. Chamberlain thought as he turned and ran full pelt down the staircase heading towards the gates.196

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A disembodied voice echoed through the chamber as the mirror’s visage boiled and bubbled like a cauldron with contents overflowing. He watched as the surface was torn asunder, a clawed hand pushing its way violently through the churning surface.198

“Blood to birth it,
Death to tutor it,
Passion to wield it,
Hatred will yield it.”199

The voice sounded as if it emerged from the depths of hell itself and Jerrico felt the evil within himself being drawn to the clawed hand which beckoned enticingly. Here within the darkened grotto he felt his resistance to the dark urges within weaken. He could feel the rebellion and anarchy gathering strength as he lifted his arm to reach out towards that which was the epitaph of evil.200

“Join me my son,” The voice hissed and with that one phrase Jerrico felt his resolve strengthen.201

“Rathboon,” He bellowed; grief and despair echoing through his voice. A torrent of water flooded from the mirror, the hand dissolved before his eyes. For a moment the mirror was stagnant and then words appeared as if they were drawn in smoke.202

We exist - we stand against him,
But he is like smoke and his forces attend him.
Only you can find the tokens,
But do not underestimate them.
For evil draws evil, and changes intentions.
Follow the path that is drawn,
But beware, darkness inside and out.
Not all is as it seems.
Sometimes one can only trust their dreams.203

The words vanished as quickly as they had appeared and weakened he dropped to the floor, pain from his wounded shoulder and battered soul taking their toll.204

With a bitter taste on his tongue, he acknowledged that he would need to find the Tokens of Doom, feeling a part of him rejoiced at the thought. Would he be able to resist the evil which dwelt within him or was it his own intentions which were in doubt? He stood slowly and stumbled towards the grotto’s entrance, intent on the purpose which could spell his doom.205

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He watched attentively as the group assembled at the gate, hurriedly moved inside before he could move from his position in the undergrowth to creep closer to the wall which encircled the town. He moved slowly, feeling he didn’t quite fit into the skin which covered him, for his feet were large and clumsy, though he felt content. He sniffed around, reassured when he picked up the scent which he had been following and again looked at the gate longingly.207

With one last look he moved back to the edge of the forest, feeling peckish and in need of rest. He located the source of his last meal and swiped at it playfully, though it did not move in response, before settling itself next to the wolves’ carcass. Though it was only a babe, its strength had been sufficient to kill the female wolf with a single strike. As the pup grabbed hold of the teat, it suckled the last of the milk which was still warm within the wolves’ body.208

The pup looked at the moon and knew the one it considered its mother was safe and unlikely to move tonight. It snuffled around and curled into a ball to rest, for it had been a long day for a Hygentroph pup emerging on its own, but now that it was alive its mind was full of only one notion, pursuit.209