I finished reading the parchment I held in my hand, looking up over the rim of my glasses at the twitching, masked man standing before me. "Two more apprentices dead. One adept injured. It's war then."
Merek stood ominously still, the only sound he made was the creaking and stretching of his leather gloves as he clenched his hands into fists. I had stated the obvious, and he had nothing to say in response. Penrose is not given to waste a single word where none will suffice.
I sighed before I continued, "So be it. I had to burn one of the wretched blood worms earlier in the Lycaeum. They are growing bolder, and we're not entirely ready for this."
Merek only twitched, his hands clenching into fists and relaxing.
I waited, as the clock bell struck in the quiet of the late night. "I would have your counsel, old friend."
The voice behind the mask rasped, "I have... A solution." I nodded once, and he continued, "A project. I have been working on..."
I listened curiously, running my hand through my unruly mop of hair, "What sort of project?"
He was slow to respond, as if the twitching lips behind the dark mask actually smiled. "A weapon. One of fantastic... Power."
-----
Much Later...
I ran a hand along the enchanted field holding the vessel within. It flickered a deep red color at my touch, but did not give. I tried to hold back my surprise at what it contained. The magical theory and moral implications flooded my mind, "Merek. This...is an abomination. It's anathema."
The masked archmage shook his head once, hesitating a moment before responding, "*No*. It is Vadan'Myr. It is... Perfection."
I still couldn't believe what he planned, "It's empty, bereft of consciousness. The last mage I knew who could do such a thing was Jacuyl. But she is long gone, and there are few, if any left with that kind of skill in necromancy."
Penrose remained silent, only twitching and breathing through the mask as he looked upon his marvel of a creation.
I thought for a moment in the silence, "However. I know of one who was present when she last bound a soul into a mortal vessel. If I can procure this person's help, it would vastly speed up the process."
The eyes behind the mask locked on to me, nodding slightly. I had his interest. "This is a dark weapon friend. Created through death and violence."
Cold, icy cruelty dripped from every word in Merek's response. "Your moral objections. Are noted. I have already completed those preparations."
There was no stopping this, it was already set in motion. So it was far better to profit from it. "I have one condition then."
So I told him, and he accepted.
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