Fifty-nine seconds. Two whole seconds less than last week. That's how long I could keep up my concentration uninterrupted. Under a minute now. I'm losing it...
I sigh once more and arise from my chair. I wave my hand towards the glass and the shards come together and reform the glass, good as new. I levitate it back on the desk and turn to the window. I stare outside and begin to wonder. How many days do I have left?
I do not know. But my time is almost at an end. Fifty-nine seconds... I am an archmage for crying out loud! And all I can do is fifty-nine seconds?! This little practice of levitating a light object with minimal magical energy is a test of concentration that even a beginner apprentice masters early. A few weeks of practice and they can keep their focus on it for even forty seconds. Moderately powerful mages can keep it up for a minute and a half. I, at the peak of my power used to be able to do two minutes and twenty-one seconds. And now? Fifty-nine... And it's only getting worse. The ultimate sign that my power is waning and my life is slowly coming to an end.
And Jason is nowhere to be found. Is he still Kurt's guest? Or has he returned and found some way to remain hidden? Has he hatched a new plan yet? Is he coming at all? Is he waiting for me to seek him out?
No. He'll come. I've seen the bloodlust in his eyes. He wants to kill me. He knows my time is running out, but he may not know enough. He may not know how little time I have left. He may come too late. I may already be dead by the time he comes. Do I have months? Do I have weeks? Or just days?
My magic is fading and I'm fading with it. I am running out of time. If he doesn't come soon, I will be left with no choice. I must go to him. I must find him and face him. Alone, if I must. If there is no other way, I must go to Kurt and ask him to arrange for a duel with Jason. He did it once, after all. Perhaps I will be at a disadvantage, but if the alternative is fading away here while I wait, then it's a chance I must take.
Worriil can't win. I can't let it come to pass. If I die, no-one will stop him. No-one can stand in his way. His undead army grows larger and larger each passing day. I am even surprised he has been able to keep it such a secret all this time. He keeps so many skeletons in his dungeon below that it's a wonder no-one knows about it.
He thinks I don't now, but I've seen them. Seen their general. The mighty Ildardque. I must admit, Worriil has quite a sense of irony, using one such as Ildardque as his undead general. When that army moves against Delamar, it will almost be like a reckoning. Only that army won't stop after the fall of Delamar...
I must find Jason. I must take his essence, I must have his power! I must have the power to stop Worriil before he unleashes those monsters. I've sacrificed too much for this to fail now. Too many people have died. By my hand. By Jason's. By the hands of his siblings. All this must come to fruition. Worriil can't win...
*
Someone knocks. I sigh and chase my troubled thoughts from my mind. I look away from the window and lower the wards on the door.
`Enter!'
The door opens and Sewareld Worriil enters the room. Speak of the devil...
`Councilor Jenathar, my friend, am I bothering you?' he asks.
`No. Step inside, Sewareld.'
`Thank you.' he says, as he enters and shuts the door behind him.
`Have a seat.'
`Oh, no thank you. I'd rather stand. I sit too much nowadays, it's like my legs are becoming weaker. I must be getting old.'
You mocking bastard...
`Suit yourself.' I tell him, refraining myself from taking a seat. `Now, what can I do for you?'
`You have been strangely absent from Council matters in the past month. Locking yourself up like that. I wonder why... Are you feeling ill?'
`You need not concern yourself with my health, Sewareld. I am fine. I am just busy.'
`Are you sure? You look a little pale, if you don't mind a night elf saying that. You could use some fresh air, I think.'
`I'm fine. I told you, I am busy.'
`What pressing matters have you that draw you away from everything?'
`You act like you forgot what happened in Gatestown a year ago.'
`Oh, that? Do not trouble yourself with it. Eric is taking care of it. He's hot on Jason Vogan's trail and will eventually find him.'
Ha! Hot on his trail... Sewareld, sometimes you are so naive I wonder how you manage to keep your schemes under such tight cover.
`Shyrn hasn't been able to apprehend Jason for over a year! You call that progress?'
`He's killed many of Vogan's supporters. That's more than you were able to do in fifteen years.'
His supporters... Don't make me laugh!
`These so-called uprisings are meaningless. Jason is the real problem. He must be found, swiftly. At any cost. Your precious Eric hasn't been able to do that. I am taking this matter into my own hands. Jason is a risk. He must be found and stopped. Before he does us more harm.'
`How exactly are you doing it from the confines of your workroom, Jenathar?'
`You know what power I wield. I need not be in Ess'yer to search for Jason. Once I find him, I assure you, I will not hesitate to go there. He will not escape again.'
`Do you need any help? Some of the night elves are experts at scrying. I could assign someone to aid your search.'
`No. This is my responsibility. Besides, as I recall, your most powerful scryer betrayed you centuries ago. I think I'd rather not try my luck with another one of those.'
He frowns and shakes his head.
`As you wish, Jenathar. I was just thinking we might speed the process. So you could deal with this problem swiftly and we could have you back amongst us. The meetings of the Council are so... hollow... without you.'
You mean they're too boring without hearing me and Khargun exchange insults...
`I'm sure you can manage. You know well that if anything important comes up, I'll be there.'
`I shall leave you to your duties then, Jenathar. Do let me know if you need anything.' he says, and he finally leaves the room.
*
As he departs I reactivate the wards and slowly sit down. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
Do I have months? Weeks? Days?
Perhaps.
But perhaps hours.
Sewareld is not blind. He knows. He knows I am getting weaker. He knows I am fading away. Perhaps he worries that in my last days I will do something desperate, something that might harm his plans. I could see it in his eyes: he wants me dead! Now my time truly is running out, and so is the time of Delamar. And of all Ess'yer.
I must find Jason. No matter the cost! I can wait no longer...
Duel
Somewhere east of Coldrock, eleven years ago (12 years, 4 months, and 6 days before Twilightfall)
We were lucky to get away after Pinky got overly enthusiastic with his club. The tower collapsed completely, and a piece of the top came crashing down just ten feet from me and Zack.
`That was close.' I told him.
Before he could reply, Pinky spoke up.
`That was awesome! I really actually tore that tower down! I had no idea I was that strong!'
`It's because my blasts made the tower unstable.' said Zack.
`Yeah, sure... Come on, it's so obvious that it was me! Let's go find another tower and do it again!'
Zack and I looked at each other, then turned towards Coldrock and started walking.
`Hey, where are you going? Wait up, you fucking assholes!' said Pinky, and he hurried after us.
When we got back to the tavern, the Shaman greeted us. We told him how things fared, and told him all about how it went down. Needless to say, Pinky bragged on a lot about how he tore down the tower. In the end, the Shaman thanked Zack for his assistance.
`You have done well! I hereby bestow upon you the title of proven warrior. This title has never been given to non-orcs before, and gives you the right to challenge me for leadership of the town. Respect this privilege well, human!' he said, and he turned around and went fo
r the door.
`Okay, when do we fight?' asked Zack. The Shaman slowly turned around.
`I told you, you do not have to fight me if you do not want to.'
`I want to.'
`Ha! You do?!'
`Yes!'
`You don't have what it takes...'
`Oh, you're afraid of me? Is that it?'
`Bah! I fear no-one! If you want this, you're on, tomorrow evening. Just before sundown.'
`I'll be there!'
When the Shaman left, I asked Zack about his decision.
`Hey listen, man... Do you have any idea what this duel is like?'
`No. Does it matter?'
`From the looks of you, it damn sure does.' I told him, nodding my head. Then he gave me that angered look of his.
`Are you fucking insulting me?'
`Hey man, no offense, but... you ain't much of a brawler. Or at least you don't look like it.'
`So?'
`Look, this is a duel, one on one. You and him.'
`No problem there.'
`With no weapons.'
`No problem.'
`And no magic.'
Then, he blinked at me a couple of times. It looked like he was about to repeat my question, to be sure he heard it right. Instead, he just said:
`I'll handle it.'
`You sure?'
`What is this, a fight 'till first blood, or something more?'
`Errr... you mean like a fight to the death? No, it's nothing like that. It's a traditional duel between the Shaman and the one who would challenge him. It's not about killing, it's about proving your worth.'
`How do you prove your worth?'
`Well, our symbol of power is a silver adorned girdle. The Shaman wears it around his waist, maybe you've noticed. You must take the girdle to win.'
`You mean I have to take off his belt?' he asked, looking dumb.
`Not exactly. Before the fight, the girdle will be suspended twenty-five feet above the ground on top of the pole in the center of the town, maybe you've seen it already. To win, you must get the girdle off there.'
He blinked again. And then again.
`I have to climb the pole?' he asked finally.
`No, the pole is full of spikes, it's pretty unclimbable. No, the contestants will have a twenty-foot high ladder that they can use to reach the girdle.'
`Climb... a twenty-foot high ladder?'
`And take the girdle, yes.' I nodded to him. `I think you see now why magic is not allowed. Of course, the aim is to beat the living Hell out of your opponent so that he stays down long enough for you to get up there and take the girdle without being interrupted.'
`I can manage that.'
`Haha! I admire your guts, buddy! But you can't win! You ain't never been in such a duel before.'
`Always a first time.' he said. `Now let me have some food, I'm starving.'
*
He vanished for the night, but he came back the other day to eat in the tavern. When the evening came, he was right there in the center of the town, unarmed and waiting. He was without his leather coat and was just wearing leather pants, boots, gloves and a black sleeveless shirt. Then I saw that he's not as weak as I'd expect from a mage. He seemed to have decent strength, in fact. Although he was still a weakling next to our Shaman. I haven't told you how intimidating our Shaman looked, have I? I'll get to that in a moment.
All of Coldrock gathered there for the event. Everybody wanted to see Zack get his ass kicked. He was a human after all...
We formed a large circle around the pole, sealing Zack in. There was no way out, but he didn't seem to care. Some minutes before dusk, the Shaman arrived. He had his tunic off, so everyone could see how strong he was. A tall warrior full of muscles, practically bald with no facial hair on his chin, and countless traditional tattoos covering his upper body. The very sight of the mighty Tarakosh was enough to make most humans cower in fear, and he knew that! Zack didn't look scared though, and that was very strange...
We let our Shaman into the circle, and he called someone there to take his belt and place it on top of the pole. Once the girdle was placed atop, Pinky stepped into the middle of the circle.
`My fellow orcs, people of Coldrock! Tonight, we witness a duel like no other. Our Shaman, the respected and all powerful Tarakosh defends his Girdle of Leadership against the one who earned the right to challenge him just yesterday. Look closely, because he's puny but he's tough as a rock. Well, a very small rock, anyway. He is Zack Sands, and he will challenge our Shaman here and now!'
The guys all cheered in unison when Pinky introduced the Shaman, and booed in unison when he spoke Zack's name. Zack was frowning, but otherwise didn't seem to give a damn. Pinky continued.
`As you know, the duel is fought without weapons and magic, and the winner is whoever uses this ladder to retrieve the Girdle of Leadership. Now, let the battle commence!'
With that, he stepped aside, and allowed Zack and the Shaman to beat the Hell out of each other.
*
For a few seconds, they were just staring each other down fiercely. Then, the Shaman charged at Zack. Zack stepped aside wisely, drawing a loud boo from the crowd. The Shaman turned around and charged at him again. Zack managed to evade him again, but the third time he was not so lucky. The Shaman managed to catch him, and he picked him up. He raised him high above his head with stretched arms, and then dropped him flat on his back.
Zack was left breathless on the ground from the impact. Then the Shaman stood beside him, jumped up, and then down on him with his knees bent, driving his knees right into Zack's gut.
Zack screamed briefly, and was holding his aching belly as the Shaman stood up. He stomped on Zack's hands, then on his ankles, and then he picked Zack up again and threw him on the ground such that he simultaneously jumped on him, giving all his weight into this attack.
The guys cheered in approval, and as Zack lay motionless on the ground, the Shaman went for the ladder. He set it up and started to climb. He wasn't even half way up though when Zack somehow managed to get up. The crowd booed loudly, and this caught the Shaman's attention. He turned around just in time to see Zack coming. He jumped down on him from the ladder, trying to knock him to the ground. Zack was able to roll aside, thus evading him. The Shaman fell on the hard ground instead, but he almost immediately got back up. Zack seemed like he was thinking of climbing the ladder, but after this he was forced to reconsider. After all, The Shaman could have simply tossed him off the ladder.
Now, I haven't mentioned this yet, but there were a few tables and chairs around the pole beside the ladder. They were meant to be used by the competitors. Zack somehow didn't know that, so he was extremely surprised when the Shaman picked up a chair and threw it at him with full force. Zack was barely able to duck, and the chair flew against the spiked pole, and broke apart. He then yelled at me with his eyes bulging.
`Hey... Didn't you say that no weapons were allowed?'
`Yes. No weapons, no magic. Other than that, anything goes. Anything!'
`Anything goes, huh? Are you saying, that counts as anything?' he asked, pointing at the broken chair.
`Of course! In fact... Do you see anyone sitting by these tables here?'
`No.'
`Well why do you think nobody's sitting there? These chairs and tables are here so the competitors can use them!'
`Why in the fuck didn't you fucking say that before, you fuckhead?'
I shrugged, and then he glanced around and asked:
`So... anything goes? Anything at all?'
`Yeah. No weapons, no magic, but excluding those, anything goes!'
Then he turned around and faced our Shaman. He was marching forwards quickly, and the Shaman was just laughing, confident that Zack was about to get flattened again.
Zack had other plans though. As soon as he was close enough, he moved his right foot for a swift kick. Right to the Shaman's balls...
Now, the Shaman didn't expect this, and got the kick right
where it hurts the most. You should have heard him scream! S-c-r-e-a-m... Oh, and you should have heard how everyone was laughing! Sure, they wanted the Shaman to win, but they still found it amusing when the guy in charge got kicked in the balls. Hey, who wouldn't have?
Anyway, the Shaman fell on his knees and he was grabbing his aching balls, his eyes wide in pain. Zack picked up a chair, walked up behind him, raised it high above, and with a fierce smile on his face he slammed it right onto the Shaman's back.
The chair shattered to pieces, and the Shaman fell to the ground.
`Who's laughing now, huh?' said Zack.
The back of the chair remained mostly intact, and Zack placed it just beneath the head of the laying Shaman. Then, he picked up another chair, held it by the legs, and viciously slammed the back of the chair onto the Shaman's head.
It was one Hell of an impact, and it seemed to have knocked out the Shaman. After this move, Zack dragged one of the tables right next to the ladder, and pulled up the Shaman from the ground. I guess he wanted to make him lay on the table, and then maybe bust another chair on him or something. But the Shaman was not as groggy as Zack thought he was, and he caught him by the neck with his right hand, and grabbing Zack's back with his left hand, he lifted him up and tossed him on the ground, square on his back. The crowd cheered wildly. Zack somehow got up, but seemed a bit dizzy. He stumbled next to another table, and the Shaman went after him. He easily picked him up, and then he dropped him by the back onto the table.
The table broke in half under the impact, and the Shaman laughed out loud. He turned back to the ladder again. He started climbing, but Zack somehow got up again, and went after him. The Shaman was only half way up, and Zack grabbed his foot and started pulling him down. He wasn't strong enough for that, but the Shaman was annoyed enough by this attempt that he decided to climb back down and beat some sense into his challenger.
Monsters Page 15