his direction from only a few feet away.
His gut reaction was to throw his torch and run from the cave. The fire ripped through the air and flared past the creature and in that moment Val realized it was no threat. The eyes he saw were dead and glazed over. Before him was a partially eaten goblin, impaled on his own spear, made to stand straight up. The torch gave the cave a soft orange glow and deceitful black dancing shadows across the rock walls as it crackled and popped on the cave floor. Val edged around the dead goblin and retrieved the torch. He held it high to get a better view. The cave was fairly large with only one other exit, a small crack on the far wall. Another wind whistled through the crack to batter his small flame around, exciting the dancing shadows all the more. Val searched the ground. The stone was scattered with blackened scraps of wood and soot. Val rolled a log over wishing to find any live coals but the fire was dead and cold. From the looks of the goblin, it had only been dead a few days, hardly bloated.
Several long scratches across the stone floor caught his eye. He walked over to investigate and noticed a sliver of rock. Val picked it up, feeling the texture of the cold rock. He pocketed it and turned to walk out of the cave, spirits renewed, and almost bumped into the dead goblin—a very real reminder of the dangers he faced ahead. He extinguished his torch and stowed it. Once he exited the cave and got a few breaths of fresh air, he consulted his scrying devices once again: straight north. Several hours in the day remained and every moment he could move as the orcs rested helped.
Val continued up the path.
The red wizard Yusar lay on a plush sofa in the main study, now his residence in the tower. Drask had taken the top floor, his former room and study, for himself. Yusar thought about the tower’s design and its limitations. The tower provided many rooms and secret passages, but nothing could get him back to the top floors without Drask’s knowledge. The room was designed for the master of the tower alone. Yusar sighed and closed his eyes, contemplating his situation. He was now a general for a great and powerful demon, but he felt more like a servant. He had been the master of the Tower of Solic, named after the master architect wizard who created it, for over three years now and life was going exactly how he wanted it to. Yusar was content with his solitude, safety, and wealth. Not to say Yusar was a wealthy man in coin, but he had an untold fortune in magical weapons. A smile came across his face as he thought to the secret room holding his precious collection: one wall covered in axes, bows, maces, halberds, daggers, and a wide variety and arrangement of swords from across the world; down the middle, many stone mannequins adorned and covered with magical armors and leather sets; on the opposite wall, dozens of shelves and pedestals, each covered with magical rings, bracelets, necklaces, and other jewelry and accessories. In the far back of the room was another hidden room with all of Yusar’s favorites. The wizard detested close combat, but still kept one of his favorite daggers concealed on him. His concentration was broken when he heard the sound of metal falling out in the hall. Hushed voices followed shortly after.
Yusar opened the door to the doorway and was greeted by a tall, sleek demon with multiple sets of arms and the bottom half like that of a snake. In one of her hands was a beautiful purple-blue scimitar, a weapon Yusar knew very well. She smiled a full row of fangs and made her way behind several smaller demons, all carrying weapons.
Yusar slammed the door and ran to the nearest wall, and said the words to summon a door from the tower. As soon as the door appeared in the stone, Yusar opened it, afraid of what he would find on the other side. He clinched his fist tightly, digging his long, sharp fingernails into his palm. His prized hidden room had many empty
His gut reaction was to throw his torch and run from the cave. The fire ripped through the air and flared past the creature and in that moment Val realized it was no threat. The eyes he saw were dead and glazed over. Before him was a partially eaten goblin, impaled on his own spear, made to stand straight up. The torch gave the cave a soft orange glow and deceitful black dancing shadows across the rock walls as it crackled and popped on the cave floor. Val edged around the dead goblin and retrieved the torch. He held it high to get a better view. The cave was fairly large with only one other exit, a small crack on the far wall. Another wind whistled through the crack to batter his small flame around, exciting the dancing shadows all the more. Val searched the ground. The stone was scattered with blackened scraps of wood and soot. Val rolled a log over wishing to find any live coals but the fire was dead and cold. From the looks of the goblin, it had only been dead a few days, hardly bloated.
Several long scratches across the stone floor caught his eye. He walked over to investigate and noticed a sliver of rock. Val picked it up, feeling the texture of the cold rock. He pocketed it and turned to walk out of the cave, spirits renewed, and almost bumped into the dead goblin—a very real reminder of the dangers he faced ahead. He extinguished his torch and stowed it. Once he exited the cave and got a few breaths of fresh air, he consulted his scrying devices once again: straight north. Several hours in the day remained and every moment he could move as the orcs rested helped.
Val continued up the path.
The red wizard Yusar lay on a plush sofa in the main study, now his residence in the tower. Drask had taken the top floor, his former room and study, for himself. Yusar thought about the tower’s design and its limitations. The tower provided many rooms and secret passages, but nothing could get him back to the top floors without Drask’s knowledge. The room was designed for the master of the tower alone. Yusar sighed and closed his eyes, contemplating his situation. He was now a general for a great and powerful demon, but he felt more like a servant. He had been the master of the Tower of Solic, named after the master architect wizard who created it, for over three years now and life was going exactly how he wanted it to. Yusar was content with his solitude, safety, and wealth. Not to say Yusar was a wealthy man in coin, but he had an untold fortune in magical weapons. A smile came across his face as he thought to the secret room holding his precious collection: one wall covered in axes, bows, maces, halberds, daggers, and a wide variety and arrangement of swords from across the world; down the middle, many stone mannequins adorned and covered with magical armors and leather sets; on the opposite wall, dozens of shelves and pedestals, each covered with magical rings, bracelets, necklaces, and other jewelry and accessories. In the far back of the room was another hidden room with all of Yusar’s favorites. The wizard detested close combat, but still kept one of his favorite daggers concealed on him. His concentration was broken when he heard the sound of metal falling out in the hall. Hushed voices followed shortly after.
Yusar opened the door to the doorway and was greeted by a tall, sleek demon with multiple sets of arms and the bottom half like that of a snake. In one of her hands was a beautiful purple-blue scimitar, a weapon Yusar knew very well. She smiled a full row of fangs and made her way behind several smaller demons, all carrying weapons.
Yusar slammed the door and ran to the nearest wall, and said the words to summon a door from the tower. As soon as the door appeared in the stone, Yusar opened it, afraid of what he would find on the other side. He clinched his fist tightly, digging his long, sharp fingernails into his palm. His prized hidden room had many empty
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