11/11/98
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Page 5
seated on as obsidian throne, Lord Bane - High Companion of the Devine,
Keeper of the Keys to Fate, and Phage of the Unworthy - sat contemplating
the messenger.
"Dark Lord, an urgent communiqué from distant Palegic: your consort, Perba
has been slain."
A wisp of breath drifted from Lord Bane's mouth as he spoke, "How long?"
The messenger wiped a bead of perspiration from his brow, "Some 5 bells
ago, my lord."
"I see."
Lord Bane rose and brushed passed the messenger, "You are dismissed."
The man breathed a silent sigh of relief, and drew back, rubbing the spot
on his hand where the Lord's cloak had brushed it. It itched strangely.
After the messenger had left, Lord Bane moved behind his throne.
"You heard?" he said, addressing the patch of darkness behind.
"Yeeess," a voice like a breath of wind across a graveyard, sibilant and
powerful.
"Then you know what must be done; travel to Pelagic and feed on the corpse
of the murderer."
"As you will," said the voice.
As the something moved out of the darkness, the air seemed to be distorted,
hazy and darkened in a shapeless mass. Two pinpricks of light were visible
in what Lord Bane knew to be the creature's head.
"I shall be there in 3 bells," it stated, moving to the window.
Lord Bane watched as the Cholan drew itself to its full height and unfurled
it's wings. He was knocked back by the wind as it launched itself in to the
sky with an unholy scream on the threshold of his hearing. He smiled,
justice was swift in his realm.
Twado sat, poring over a map as Lobsang, Svana and N'one broke their
fast.
"Gaah." He stammered as he tried to make sense of the map's strange
symbols.
He turned to N'one in frustration, "Where in Kefka's mange are we
going?"
N'one, who was busy chatting to Svana and wolfing down a plate of fried
Sarag, turned, wiping his thin mouth delicately with a napkin.
"We are travelling by shrebberidder along the Safo range to Belltown, where
we…"
"Belltown, you say!" Lobsang interrupted, " I heard that is Darkion Dane's;
he controls it with a iron fist."
Was that fear I the old man's voice, Twado wondered.
Ignoring Lobsang's outburst, N'one flicked dust from his wrist as he
continued, "From there, we will charter a ship and travel along the coast
to Prendersbard."
"And then?" asked Svana, as she carved her name into the wood of the table
with her Dirk.
N'one smiled thinly, "we shall see… Actually Twado," he remarked while
sipping on a vial of crimson Minerva juice, "you have the map upside
down…"
There was a pause, then Lobsang rose, "Luna has been gone far too long, I
knew she should not have gone to buy the shrebberidders alone."
"Leave it be old man," N'one growled, "she can handle herself and would
resent your help."
"Nonetheless," Lobsang said, as he moved to the door.
Before he could reach the door, it imploded, showering everyone in
splinters. In the shattered frame stood Luna. She clutched at her arm in
pain as she tottered into the room.
"Quick! To the stables! I've been attacked by Imperial assassins, they will
be here in moments."
"What, already?!" gasped N'one, "We must
indeed make haste, for these are most unpleasant creatures to deal
with."
"Gurgling lizard's breath!" bellowed Twado, "Am I not to have a moments
peace!?"
All turned to goggle at him in disgust.
"Umm, I mean, let us unto the stables," he said, smiling weakly.
All attention turned back to the matter in hand.
"Quick, Svana, berserk mode," said Lobsang, leaping up with surprising
ability.
Svana turned, and her look could have slewn a thousand men…
"I have not the ability to bring it on and repel it at will," she hissed,
"would that I could."
"Ahh," said Lobsang, "I see, you are not yet
that advanced. Very well."
"When you have quite finished, there is a
matter of much moment at hand," said N'one, smoothing his hair back before
putting his large brimmed hat on.
And without more ado all gathered their few personal belongings, and leaped
out of the window and down the drainage pipe.
"I'll just fly down then, shall I?" enquired Luna, holding her arm
predatorily.
Twado was about to climb back up, crushing a hellbeast's spine on his way,
when a red-clad arm shot out of the window and would have grabbed her, had
Luna not had the presence of mind to fling herself out of the window.
Twado involuntarily broke her fall.
"Coo," he gasped, crushed beneath the weight. "Gaah," he added.
Svana grasped Luna and slinging her over her shoulder, she kicked Twado in
the ribs to liven him up.
"To the stables," she bellowed.
The five companions ran like their lives
depended on it - and in many ways it did. The imperial assassins were
almost as feared as the Dark Lord himself.
Twado ran with an awkward gait; stumbling and cursing under his breath. His
right thigh was still severely lacking in meat - the Minerva healed, but
could not reconstruct flesh - which was limiting his movements. Apart from
his thigh, Twado was in remarkably good shape
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