The memory of witnessing such an act was burned into his mind forever more. Seething fury, beating like a thunder clap, within his chest. Without thought swirling energies of aetheric power came unbidden, responding to his rage and desires. Dangerous magicks were always connected to the fuelling of emotions. The manacles about his wrists seemed to tighten. He did not have to look at them to know what was happening, red runes would be glowing brightly, anti-spell wards to ensure the mage was not going to prove troublesome. No matter how hard he tried, with all his strength, Ashtallion could not shatter the sorcery dispelling manacles. Several others around him wore such shackles, a even fewer with one around their necks. From time to time he was dragged from his sleep with his ‘Masters’ needed the work of the sorcerers to raise the building blocks or empower then with enchantments.
Asht wearied of such work quickly.
The Demons. They had accomplished what they had set out to do. Enslave the Aether World. Soon they would be crossing to the Tether to make such harsh conditions a reality. Though, to those in the Dreaming Realm, this was as real as they want it. The sweet solace came with waking, finding themselves in their beds, cold sweat and ravaging sobs taking their tolls.
Everyone soon discovered just how cruel their Demonic Overlords truly were. Thousands of enslaved humans, adhiesl, dwarves, gnomes and half-lings. The odd half giant was seen, though they mainly served at the quarry mines along with the dwarves. The demons were building some sort of Tower, a Bastion of Darkness to mark their conquest over the Aether. The sky overhead was a murky grey, the sun no longer shown over the world. Not even a wind dared to stir, though it would carry the stench of decay and death, it always seemed as though some corpse was rotting somewhere for the smell was sometimes overpowering. Eventually one got just to it. How could anyone truly ‘get used’ to the sights around them that occurred daily. Friends slain openly, their chests ripped apart, flesh flayed from bone, so much blood. The mage could only cringe at the memory.
“ You best calm down, wizard, our masters are watching you with overt interest… “, the man next to him spoke, his tone dead pan, the spark of life squashed in him. He was right though, Asht found, as he looked up. Two demons, hulking brutes of incredible strength, were watching him. Rather, they were watching the glowing runes on his shackles. The mage quickly let the strands of energy disperse. The glow faded immediately. He prayed they would leave him be, the last time he barely survived the lashings.
“ Sorcerer, come with us. “
Shit.
Evidently they had not let it pass. Ashtallion looked to the two demons and nodded. “ Yes, masters. “, he followed them, still carrying the stone block. He looked back to the see the man that warned him regarding the mage with a look of profound sorrow, most likely believing he would never see the adhiel sorcerer again, not alive at any rate. “ Trying to break your chains again mage? “, the demons escorting him at either side sneered derisively. “ You will receive punishment after your duty. “
“ Of course, masters. “, and what duty was that to be he wondered. Naturally he did not have to wait long to find out. Several other wizards had been pulled from the masses, all converging on the large covered object. Another raising it seemed. And this appeared to be a particularly large block of stone….no wait, the cover was disjointed…some sort of statue.
“ By the gods… “, he muttered it under his breath, realising what it was that he looked upon. Already he could feel the twisting strands of black magic. Netheric energy rolled from the object in abundant waves, each one hammering against the confines of his mind, it made him feel increasingly nauseas, yet he had enough sense to keep his face calm. The wizards, seven in all, four men and three women, encircled the statue, just as the High Mage appraoched, a demonic sorcerer of astounding power, the sickening power that drifted from the statue paled in comparison to this mighty demon-mage. It was him that had invested the statue with darkness.
“ Wizard scum. Life the statue to the top of the entrance arc, it is to serve as a reminder of the fate of mortal-kind…â€, he gestured to reveal the statue. One and all, the sorcerers recoiled, Ashtallion could not fight the bile that rose, he knelt down and emptied his already empty stomach. A few of the others did also, alleviating his own shame. The High Mage merely watched with satisfaction, it had the desired effect. A warped structure of mortal-kind indeed. One of every Free-race on Tazlure. Each carved with fine detail and likeness, all kneeling or twisting in pain and abject misery. A Master stone mason carved this….he had taken the crushed spirit of the Aether and carved it into stone.
Tears ran down the wizards’ face, everyone of them, for they all understood what they looked upon.
“ Now, raise it. “, the high mage gestured again and the shackles loosened. They would have access to their powers now, and despite he was using them to touch a vile construction, Asht none the less basked in the sweet touch of the aetheric sorcery that still responded to him even in that place of corruption and evil. All seven rose their arms, each speaking the incantation. Waves of aetheric power swept forwards to engulf the demonic statue. Two wizards visibly flinched in pain. Touching the dark magic with their own, it caused them all pain, they were all strong enough to bare it though…for now.
Inch by inch, the statue rose. The reason why they needed seven of the sorcerer became all to apparent. Heavy as it would be were it just stone, the black marble of which it was carved was invested with major netheric sorceries. This made the task much more difficult. The netheric energies conflicted with their own, once or twice they almost dropped the statue. “ Drop it, mages, and I crush your throats in my hand! “, they dared not let it fall.
It was almost above the archway that would eventually serve as the main entrance to the Tower.
Something wrong was happening. Ashtallion could feel his power being forcibly ripped from him, his strength pooling out of him, uncontrolled. It was raw sorcery. Bristling with aetheric anger. The statue fell, it shattered on the ground. One of the Sorceresses. It was her. She had somehow tapped into their power and was drawing it around herself….for what purpose?
Ashtallion was on his knees by this point, feeling as though his very life energy was being sapped. It most likely was. She was indeed a skilled sorceress to accomplish the draining of six other wizards in a heartbeat without them or the High Mage sensing it. “ What are you doing, bitch sorceress! How dare you! You will suffer countless deaths for this insolence. “, yet the sorceress hardly heard a word, she merely looked at the high mage with savage eyes.
“ You miserable demons. Pathetic creatures that are hardly worthy enough to lick my ass! “, Ashts’ eyes widened, he had rarely heard such words from a womans mouth, especially directed at one of their masters, more so the High Mage. She rose her arms and the air lit with deafening magic. Asht could not tear his eyes away. The blessed light of the aether surrounded the sorceress. He could see her more so with his mind that with his golden eyes. Magical winds tore about her, hair flying wild, the robes she used to wear nothing but rages, yet in this light she was a beacon of strength and purity and life. She could not hope to control the Power of Seven though. It would consume her, but through the link she created, each wizard sensed her acknowledgement.
‘ Brothers and Sister. We are united in our Sorcery. I choose to no longer live as a slave to these beasts. The might of the Aether, the Light, it is stronger than any demon. Rise up when you can. Challenge them, and by the moon and stars, crush them into dust! ‘
Sorcery burst towards the high mage, the demon raising his arms, wards springing up. The aetheric light battered against his shields, wave after wave of liquid light pummelling him, despite the wards, he was hammered again and again. Cuts and bruises formed. Only by the strength of his wards did he remain alive this long. “ Stupid witch! “, his wards were secure now and he returned the attack. Black lightning ignited with a physically felt thump in the air. It screamed with death as it tore through the light, battering through the sorceress’ wards effortlessly. She could not control the power to mount a decent defence. The human woman was ripped cleanly up the middle. Two halves fell to either side, blood and organs fell in a sloppy mess to the ground. “ Sweet gods. Guide her soul. Let her find peace. “
The six remaining wizards spoke those words in unison. Their sister had been stripped from them. A Sister of Sorcery. Again, Asht could not suppress the tears that ran down his ruddy checks. Flecks of blood mingling with the salty water.
“ Arrogant whore. You are all worthless! Such defiance will not go unpunished! Guards! Ten lashes each for these miserable wretches. “, he had gestured once more, the wards and runes on their shackles reactivating. The High Mage, though trying to hide it, was done. Exhausted. He had expended his power in fending off and killing the Sorceress whose name they now knew. Kathryne. She would not be forgotten. Yet the knowledge that she had very nearly bested him clamoured in his mind, his heart lurched. The combined strength of more wizards. They could bring him down, if only they could find a way to get the manacles off first.
This was something, Ashtallion Urdil Alrul would have to think on.
OOC: Throwing this out to see what people think of it. Feel free to join in anyone
