This just in from Kasaven~
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Fear, Ix Tab began, nightmares, deception, violence, all things we hold in power over these lesser beings, to not use them is to forfeit ourselves to their whims.
Relvinian steadied himself on his crooked staff as he tightened the grasp of his decaying hand on the handle. I do not suggest we abandon our plans to sway them, he said, his jaw crackling as he spoke, I have spent too long resting, too long without a spirit, to consent to your agenda so thoughtlessly. I would rather have them under our power than trampled, bloody under our feet.
Then do no consent. You forget, magician, I still hold the fragments.
Yet you still need my help, or you would not have given me rise from the grave. My head is clear, I am not the half-witted, earth-covered lich you recruited to your cause. Daemons answer to me, it is not my duty to answer to them.
And as you are no mere lich, I am no mere daemon, Ix Tab spoke between clenched teeth, do not forget I can return you to your resting place. Our endeavor is in your best interest, maze-crafter.
It would seem, though deceit is the backbone of the abyss, your intentions still escape me, Ix, though you would speak as if they are as clear as crystal. I will follow close behind, if for my own gain. And you know our deal, suffice to say my summoning can still be perfected, for any cause. But its original intent was to bring ease to human life, do you think I should so hastily distort my work to one of bloodshed?
Yes, Ix Tab said, as she caressed the crystal fragments adorning her necklace, I would love nothing more then to hear the thrashing of daemon wings as they crack upon the soft flesh and brittle bones of the humans and elves. I would love nothing more than to see myself placed above law and order, above any witless queen or faceless Guardian, on a throne eclipsing the sky itself! Ix Tab lowered her gaze onto Relvinian and smiled, showing her fanged teeth. I know you still battle your insanity, and who do you have to blame that insanity on? Britannians! I would love to see you extract revenge, Relvinian, exiled man of Britannia, on those who say you had no place in the company of true mages, who spat at you as you went about your studies. Revenge! Does that word not ring true in your ears??
Relvinian clutched his tattered sash and tightened it around the decaying flesh of his ribcage. Such a word I have not heard so clear, such a word has not sounded so just in my mind since madness once took it. I think we may come to a temporary agreement daemon. Uphold your end, and I'll uphold mine, Relvinian twitched as he spoke, dropping his spellbook to the ground, our mutual gain, their writhing pain. Now is the time for justice and recompense. Perhaps they should feel the agony of my solitude and decrepitude, ten fold. I agree to help you achieve this cause. To help you summon them.
His face contorted into a wicked grin as he shuffled his malformed body toward Ix Tab and raised his eyeless sockets toward her bright red orbs. The Daemons that we soon do seek, only the Guardian can keep. Some think them a common lot, those who think that, soon will rot.
Owain awoke to the smell of decayed flesh and the quiet hum of a daemon's magic. The floor of Hythloth was cold, and the realization of his vision struck him. He had no time to recount the ill-fated conversation he had foreseen, as a red-eyed daemon struck the air in front of him with its wings, flinging detritus in every direction. Closely behind the daemon was a group of skeletal knights, bones crackling as they raised their swords in his direction. Owain stood up and clenched his fists as he began to utter words of power. In the back of his mind he knew two much greater dangers loomed, and the people who must be warned.
Meet At the Counselor's Hall in Britain on Sunday, March 28th a 8 p.m. EST. The menace must be put to a halt.
Relvinian steadied himself on his crooked staff as he tightened the grasp of his decaying hand on the handle. I do not suggest we abandon our plans to sway them, he said, his jaw crackling as he spoke, I have spent too long resting, too long without a spirit, to consent to your agenda so thoughtlessly. I would rather have them under our power than trampled, bloody under our feet.
Then do no consent. You forget, magician, I still hold the fragments.
Yet you still need my help, or you would not have given me rise from the grave. My head is clear, I am not the half-witted, earth-covered lich you recruited to your cause. Daemons answer to me, it is not my duty to answer to them.
And as you are no mere lich, I am no mere daemon, Ix Tab spoke between clenched teeth, do not forget I can return you to your resting place. Our endeavor is in your best interest, maze-crafter.
It would seem, though deceit is the backbone of the abyss, your intentions still escape me, Ix, though you would speak as if they are as clear as crystal. I will follow close behind, if for my own gain. And you know our deal, suffice to say my summoning can still be perfected, for any cause. But its original intent was to bring ease to human life, do you think I should so hastily distort my work to one of bloodshed?
Yes, Ix Tab said, as she caressed the crystal fragments adorning her necklace, I would love nothing more then to hear the thrashing of daemon wings as they crack upon the soft flesh and brittle bones of the humans and elves. I would love nothing more than to see myself placed above law and order, above any witless queen or faceless Guardian, on a throne eclipsing the sky itself! Ix Tab lowered her gaze onto Relvinian and smiled, showing her fanged teeth. I know you still battle your insanity, and who do you have to blame that insanity on? Britannians! I would love to see you extract revenge, Relvinian, exiled man of Britannia, on those who say you had no place in the company of true mages, who spat at you as you went about your studies. Revenge! Does that word not ring true in your ears??
Relvinian clutched his tattered sash and tightened it around the decaying flesh of his ribcage. Such a word I have not heard so clear, such a word has not sounded so just in my mind since madness once took it. I think we may come to a temporary agreement daemon. Uphold your end, and I'll uphold mine, Relvinian twitched as he spoke, dropping his spellbook to the ground, our mutual gain, their writhing pain. Now is the time for justice and recompense. Perhaps they should feel the agony of my solitude and decrepitude, ten fold. I agree to help you achieve this cause. To help you summon them.
His face contorted into a wicked grin as he shuffled his malformed body toward Ix Tab and raised his eyeless sockets toward her bright red orbs. The Daemons that we soon do seek, only the Guardian can keep. Some think them a common lot, those who think that, soon will rot.
Owain awoke to the smell of decayed flesh and the quiet hum of a daemon's magic. The floor of Hythloth was cold, and the realization of his vision struck him. He had no time to recount the ill-fated conversation he had foreseen, as a red-eyed daemon struck the air in front of him with its wings, flinging detritus in every direction. Closely behind the daemon was a group of skeletal knights, bones crackling as they raised their swords in his direction. Owain stood up and clenched his fists as he began to utter words of power. In the back of his mind he knew two much greater dangers loomed, and the people who must be warned.
Meet At the Counselor's Hall in Britain on Sunday, March 28th a 8 p.m. EST. The menace must be put to a halt.
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