Chapter 1
Davion strode out onto the sand. He kicked off his sandals and knelt on the coarse surface. He prayed for deliverance and that should he fall his spirit would be accepted into the Halls of the Victors.
He drew his sword, only a small weapon unlike his normal greatsword. Arena combat needed speed instead of brute strength. He rubbed against the coarse linen around his stomach, put there to stop the entrails from escaping. The light from the chandeliers faded, the assassin entered, this man had a mark against Davion’s employer, and a failed contract had forced Crason to dual Davion. A horrid business yet Davion had no choice, he had killed Crason’s partner, his brother, and naturally he demanded justice.
“What an odd society we live in,” thought Davion. “A murderer can demand a death dual and yet a simple thief will be hanged for stealing an apple to provide for his family. Still, the laws of society must be followed…”
Crason entered the arena with cheers from the crowd, he rallied support wherever he went, a charismatic person like he could succeed in society.
Crason glared at Davion, he held no fear in his eyes, merely a cold steely glare, Davion looked away, the dual could really only have result, and it would mean death for the other person, no hard feelings after.
The pit master called the Djinn bodyguard to ring the gong for silence, he boomed outwards with a powerful voice.
“Welcome, friends to the feature match tonight! Already we have had three gladiator deaths and a surprise victory for Hendak against a troll, where oh where did he get that acid from?” Grinned Lethinan, “Oh come now, Gloria, surely you can tell me?” A horrible, contorted smile found some way from escaping Lethinan’s lips. A thug appeared from the shadows of a doorway dragging a girl by a torn blouse. She was sobbing with red welt marks scattered on her face. In the nearby cells a blonde haired man roared in anguish, he started shaking the bars, like he was in a rage. Davion was familiar with a rage; after all, he had trained to release himself in combat like that.
Davion looked on in horror as the girl was dragged before Lethinan, he unsheathed a small dagger from his belt and was about to strike down on the poor serving girl before Davion cried out.
“My lord! A word if I may” The crowd booed and hissed, they had lost the opportunity for blood to be spilled.
“As you know, the victor of this fight would win any object of his desire, I wish to change my prize, and I want the girl to be freed and her servitude given to me.”
The crowd became agitated, they wanted blood.
Lethinan demanded silence again.
“By the Gods man why would you want this, this wench? She is nothing!”
“My reasons are my own my lord, is my request granted?”
“Get on with it man, I want this fight over!” cried Crason.
“Well, if you want it that bad then you will have to make a sacrifice, you have a choice, you fight with one arm or you fight blind.” He brandished a thick piece of black cord.
“I fight with one arm.”
“Oh a ****y one is it! Well then you shall have it as you wish! Tie him up!
Another thug appeared, he gruffly tied Davion’s left arm and left again.
“Let battle commence!”
The brass gong rung and Crason closed in quickly looking for a quick kill; his eyes gleamed with cold, murderous intent. He lunged at Davion, hoping to pierce a lung quickly. Davion was unused to the constriction of one arm and could not dodge quickly enough; his left shoulder was knicked by the blade. He quickly round housed and kicked the feet out from under the assassin and only just a missed a decapitating cut when Crason rolled out of the way. Davion’s wound began to burn; he risked a look at it and noticed a festering cut. Crason had poisoned his weapon! Davion turned and faced Crason; his dark face was smirking at Davion.
“You like my little surprise?” Grinned Crason.
The wound was murderously painful, it burned like hellfire and Davion’s brow began to burn, the poison was getting into his immune system, he calmed himself. He needed the rage now.
Often people presumed that the rage was only something that gave you strength, it was often the most conscious choice yet Davion had gone on a different path, he required more control, better reflexes and a faster, cooler mind.
He worked into that state, found a cool spot and let his hours of training do the work for him, he attained the state of mind just as Crason lunged again.
With his new state of mind Davion deftly leapt backwards out of the lunge. He brought his sword up and parried a cross-slash from Crason and committed a lethal disembowelling lunge himself. He missed by a half an inch.
Crason began to worry now, he had not anticipated this, he struggled to even repel Davion’s thrust let alone attack, his mind drifted back to the night before…
They were running back from the mark when they met a figure in the alley, unknown to them it was Davion, they charged at him and he killed his brother, he was dead! A dark, overpowering rage came to him. A voice whispered in his mind.
“We can get him you know, I can give you your brother back and you can get your vengeance…”
“Cyric… Cyric, is that you? Have you answered me?”
“All you have to do is die…”
The voice faded from Crason’s mind.
He came back to the fight and saw the lunge, it was too late, Davion had pierced the lung.
The blood bubbled up his throat; he coughed and hacked blood onto the floor. He fell onto his knees, his vision faded, he felt his last breath came and Cyric’s dark smile was the last thing that Crason saw. He died on the floor of the pit.
Davion walked up to the banister where the Gloria was being held, Lethinan looked at Davion with disgust and walked off. Davion slumped to his knees; the poison was more powerful than he had thought.
Gloria helped him to his changing area and locked the door. She looked out of the bars in the door and knelt down beside Davion, she began to chant a spell…
Chapter 2
His vision flickered, the burning was still present but not as painful as it once was. He opened his eyes a little and found himself in his quarters in his master’s estate. Gloria was sitting in a chair near his bed with a small plate of food and a deep cup of water. He stirred and reached for the cup, his left arm tried to rise but a great deal of pain erupted in his muscles. He winced in pain and drew in a sharp breath of air. Gloria stirred and held the cup to Davion’s lips, his throat was incredibly parched and the water was like the discovery of an oasis in the harshest desert.
“Gloria, what happened? I remember nearly nothing…”
“I took you back to the changing room, Crason’s poison was quite lethal. I’m sure it was created by a Talonan priestess, quite dangerous. When I had made a few unsuccessful attempts at a normal healing I had to use a spell to remove the whole blood flow in your arm, the toxin was spreading too quickly and I needed to stop it. After I stopped the flow of blood I traced the poison and removed it, here’s a vial of the stuff, a keepsake if you like…”
“But how? Surely if you could cast all those spells you must be a very powerful cleric…”
“Well you could say that. I worship Tempus, you are aware of him?”
“Of course! I worship him too, when I die he will take my soul to the Hall of Victors.”
“Yes, that’s it. The reason I can cast those spells is because of this piece of metal.”
She held out a thin sliver of metal inside a pendant, encased inside forever.
“This a small part of Tempus’ blade. He gave it to me after my parents died…”
Her voice faded and her eyes looked downcast, she gripped the necklace until her knuckles went white, she looked up and her eyes burned with passion of loss and hatred.
“I was on a quest to get vengeance for my family, I travelled south through Baldurs Gate and was caught by some bandits. They sold me into slavery and I ended up here. There was nothing I could do, they took my necklace away for me yet Tempus’ blessing’s must be many for after I left each place of servitude my necklace went with me. I kept this hidden up until now, you and Hendak are the only people in Athkatla who know about my necklace. You saved me and now I shall serve you, my first act was to heal you. Do you require anything else master?”
Her eyes had a forlorn look, she was downcast again. Davion smiled at her.
“Do not call me master, I despise that term, in any case you are not my slave. My prize was your freedom, as such you are free.”
Her eyes shot up.
“You are freeing me? Are you serious? You are letting me go?”
“Of course, I ask a few things of you though. Who is Hendak? The Gladiator you helped?”
“Yes… yes, Hendak did help me. He stopped me from getting beaten. He helped me to survive in that Godforsaken place.”
“Another thing, how old are you?”
“I am 19 summers old Davion, do you mind me calling you that, Davion?”
“Of course not, it is my name after all! Have you met my employer yet, Sir Connavar?”
“Indeed I have, he is a truly honourable gentlemen.”
“Yes, yes he is. Have you anywhere to stay? It’s just that I think Connavar might like to employ you. He is looking for a healer in his ward room. He operates a free healing clinic along with the Ilmaterians and they need help, many ill people come in a day, they are overworked but any worker is provided a room and 3 gold pieces a week wage.”
”Three pieces! How can he afford it? That is a huge amount of money!”
“Well he was actually part of a group that explored a dungeon and they returned with many gold pieces. He invested his money and his funds soared. He is happily married and wants for nothing. He is actually a high Paladin for Order of the Radiant Heart and I am head guard for his lands.”
“Well thank you for helping me out of that I will speak to Connavar about the job and maybe I’ll get it.” The welt marks had gone from her face, she looked incredibly pretty and Davion’s heart soared when he saw her smile.
“Aye, I will see you soon Gloria. Good bye for now!”
Chapter 3
There was a new entrance into Cyric’s shadowy layer. Atop his throne Cyric smiled, flashing teeth whiter than the snow of the Spine of the World.
“You have come I see,” he said to Crason. Suddenly his face turned into a snarl.
“Not only did you fail in your attempt at assassination, you also failed in fighting that brute! A simple and easy fight! I even gave you my strongest poison! Poison formulated from Bhall’s slayer form I took that myself, that should have given you the edge! You even had the gall to use it in that fight! But no, you failed and now I am the laughing stock of the pantheon.”
Out of the shadows came a figure garbed in a cloak that was blacker than the sky at night, he came up beside Cyric’s throne and whispered in his ear.
Suddenly he flashed that smile again.
“It seems you are lucky! Spies in Tempus’ court tell me that he became involved in that fight too.”
Crason looked up at his master, his cloak covered his face but Cyric looked at him, looked at him in the depth of his eyes and he was almost burning because of it.
“I give you one more chance. This is your chance to repay the debts you owe me, and then some. Succeed, and you have a place in my court, you will become one of my chosen assassins. Fail, and well let me show you…”
Cyric waved his hand a small, clouded window appeared in front of Crason. It slowly demisted and Crason saw a scene that horrified him. Thousands of assassins before Crason were being tortured eternally. Fire, ice and acid, beatings and punishment availed his senses. He had to look away; he could almost smell the flesh being burned.
Cyric laughed at this.
“You have seen death before! Why is now different? Why is this affecting you?”
Crason uttered his first words.
“Master, I am only human, this, this treatment is not even given dogs!”
“Perhaps,” mused Cyric, “but it is most… effective…”
He grinned again and waved his hand at the window closing it.
“Seeing as you were incapable before, I give you these gifts.”
A trunk appeared in front of Crason, the lid flew open and Crason approached a magnificent suit of black leather armour, there was a cloak similar to the one worn by Cyric’s aide and a short sword. The blade was black and the edge keener than any sword made by human hands. The hilt was rapped in gilt gold and a black pommel stone was encased in it.
“A most interesting weapon don’t you agree? It is borrowed from Mask himself; do see it is returned. And one final gift to you, I give you the service of your brother again, and some of my most faithful allies in the material plane.”
Five figures walked out of the darkness, his brother among them,
“I give you Viran the Sorcerer, a most evil and malicious sort he has a tendency to overpower his fireballs.”
Viran muttered a few words and the largest ball of fire Crason had seen launched from the Sorcerers hand, it impacted against a wall and screams of mercy erupted from nearby. Viran grinned evilly at Crason and bowed.
“Here is Catlan and Alandra, brother and sister, they are both deadly with their dual short-swords, they are agile and quick, they will serve you well.”
They both bowed and Alandra winked at Crason, she seemed to be interested in him.
“And last and by no means least, Jildra So’Ilren. One of Mother Lloth’s faithful, she was recommended to me by Lloth herself. A Cleric of no small power she has the means to aid you well in combat as well as… information gathering.”
“Let us get this straight human, I do not serve you, I serve Mother Lloth, you are named Crason yes? You will call me leader until I deem it unnecessary.”
Crason became enraged at these words.
“You do not serve me?! How dare you! You will call me leader or I shall put you in your place!”
She became rebuked at this and stared balefully at Crason. Alandra smirked and Cyric smiled.
“You of course know your brother, Dilan, he has had a few… improvements…”
He slung off his cloak and showed a metallic arm, he pressed a button and a small throwing knife launched from hand.
“You will find that these people will serve you well, they are all garbed in similar equipment to yours and will accompany you on your quest.”
“My liege, I apologise for my interruption but what is the nature of my quest? Why have I been given all these gifts?”
“You, will be searching for one artefact that will give me the power to, shall we say, remove some opposition… Your quest starts in the Spine of the World, search for one called Hilari, Jildra will help you extract the necessary information, she knows what is to be done…”
With that Cyric waved his hand and all became black, they reappeared in a small room lit by candles and with bowls of Black Lotus on a small table. Words echoed through the chamber…
“Enjoy yourself, you have some time before I will take you to where you need to be…”
Alandra appeared beside Crason and whispered in his ear…
“Come, let us find a room…”
Well there it is. Tell us what you think!
