[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Their dress marked them as followers of Moander and their leader bore the faceless mask common to evil masters, even in the saurial's world.But the worshipers handled their long robes clumsily and their voices faltered as they sang, occasionally missing notes or forgetting the cadence, only to pick it up again several beats later.Could they be imposters? Dragonbait wondered They all had the feel of the assassins Cassana worked with— The Fire Knives.When the pseudo-worshipers of Moander, numbering two dozen, had formed a circle about the perimeter of the hilltop, four figures in gaudy array stepped into their midst.First came the small, grinning form of Phalse.He was all in blue—a sickening blue of decaying meat.His blue-on-blue-on-blue eyes shone with anticipation.Dragonbait hissed, and Phalse smirked.Phalse had found the saurial roaming the plane of Tarterus stalking demons.The pseudo-halfling had captured the paladin and brought him to this plane so he could be slain to enslave another.Zrie Prakis entered second, decked in red robes the color of blood, trimmed with dirty, bone-white edgings.He bore his staff of power like a ceremonial weapon, ready to strike down any who failed to obey him.His movements were filled with energy, though his atrophied muscles stretched and popped over his bones.The lich's liveliness was due to the proximity of his mistress, Cassana, who strode in behind him.She was dressed in a strapless gown of shimmering green, slit up the side.In her hands she turned the small, slender wand she used to control her pets.She had a wicked, cruel smile.Last of all, Alias entered the circle, moving more like the undead that Prakis was than a living being.The puppet's body was under control of her mistress.She was garbed in leathers split up the sides, the bare flesh cross-tied with thongs which looped about silver button-hooks.Long, shiny black boots with incredibly high heels covered her feet and calves.She wore an ornate girdle at her waist, with the skull of some creature etched in silver at the front.She had been given a chain shirt split open at the middle, baring the flesh between tier breasts and offering any sword an easy target.Shoulder plates of lacquered black, a red velvet cape, and a collar of black and silver completed the showy, but impractical, ensemble.In her hands she gripped Dragonbait's diamond-headed sword so tightly her knuckles were white.Her face was drawn into a tight mask, the lines and vessels of her neck standing out.Along her sword arm, the runes glowed with a hellish light, creating a false blue dawn around her.Dragonbait pulled at his metallic bonds, trying not to give his captors the pleasure of seeing him thrash.The wires were too well mounted to give way, though, and his wrists grew wet with blood.Zrie Prakis stood at one end of the stone, near Dragon-bait's head, and Phalse stood at the lizard's feet.Cassana took one side, and Alias, fighting the pull of the runes, lurched to a position directly across from her.The saurial understood all that was to happen.They would use Hill Cleaver, his own sword, to slay him.If only he'd been able to reach the blade back at The Rising Raven, he could have negated all of Cassana's magic and turned the tide of the battle.Now the blade would shatter upon tasting his innocent blood and two good things would be destroyed in a single blow.Three, counting Alias.If all of this was not evil enough, Cassana was forcing Alias to perform the deed.It was completely unnecessary to the ritual.The witch did it only to bring pain and grief to her puppet.Dragonbait looked deep into Cassana's eyes.She would permit no flower to grow without her permission, and before Alias could bloom, the sorceress would encase her in amber.A perverse curiosity prompted him to use his shen sight on her before he died, just to know what such evil looked like.The heat of her soul caused him to flinch.Within was a black wall riddled with flaming red cracks.Hatred burned deep in her and crackled between her, Zrie Prakis, and Phalse.The lich, like a void, sucked up emotions, and beside Cassana he was a vortex of hatred and fear.Phalse glowed like a city put to the torch by invaders.His maliciousness ran the gamut of yellow greed, red hatred, and a sickly green jealousy.Cassana grinned, as if she guessed what the saurial was doing.She looked at the sky behind Alias.The sun had almost cleared the horizon.The tops of the sharp, tooth-shaped plinths looked as if they had bitten into something bloody.The sorceress motioned to Phalse, who turned his back on Dragonbait.The small servant motioned with his hands in an arcane fashion that seemed to deny the existence of bones in his arms.They swayed back and forth like snakes
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]