Corley sat in the depths of Castle Helgarde, holding one hand over a the pool of water. In the reflection was not, as would be expected, an image of the Castle, but instead an image of the barracks of Demongate. He frowned as he gazed at the image: where was the blasted knight? His spy had reported that Sir Brenzen had seemingly disappeared from the fortress, but surely he had to come out to the barracks every once in a while. So where could he possibly be?
Perhaps it was his extended use of magic, perhaps it was intuition, but suddenly Corley whirled around and thrust his hand towards a robed figure who had appeared in a dark corner of the room. A burst of dark fire rippled out from his outstretched hand, only to die out before it reached the figure. As he moved to defend himself from the attack that must surely be coming, the hooded figure spoke.
"If I were here to kill you, Corley, you would be dead already."
With that, the figure pulled back it's hood, and Corley resisted the urge to jump in shock. A dwarf stood before him, with an expressionless golden mask concealing its features. Silence hung in the air like an oppressive heat, when finally Corley said, "You're supposed to be dead."
The Masked Dwarf chuckled softly, "I suppose you could say that. Emdief's attack left me weak, nearly powerless, for more than a century. It was only the adamantine I had absorbed that kept me alive, in incredible pain. I have been forced to observe the events of the world, powerless to change them. Powerless to aid the worshippers of the true ones who thought me gone forever. But then, much the same could be said for you, couldn't it? You managed to escape from Steelhold's destruction, I see."
Corley remained silent. The less he told this madman, the better. Or madwoman, as the case may be.
The Masked Dwarf gazed silently at Corley for another minute, then gestured at the scrying pool, "You've been working on your magic, I see. Looking for someone?"
Corley clenched his jaw, internally fuming. The Masked Dwarf must take me for a fool, he thought, if he thinks I will tell him anything he can use.
The Masked Dwarf sighed, "I know you don't trust me, Corley. My path and yours have long been different. But if I had wanted to kill you, I would have consumed your essence in darkness the moment I entered the room. Instead, I let you get in the first shot, if only to show you how futile attacking me is."
"I came here to offer some adivce, and a warning. Would you like the advice first."
Corley nodded slowly, uncertain as to whether this was a trick or not.
"Very well. If you truly seek the knight, you will not be able to find him by scrying. The interference put off by Tarmid's thaumateurgical arrays and his own innate magic will hide him. Have your agents listen for tunneling happening within the fortress."
"Now, my warning. If you choose to proceed with your current path, you will find me your enemy. And not only me, but likely the FractalEntity as well."
At the mention of the FractalEntity, a slight chuckle escaped from Corley, "You mean the old fool?"
The Masked Dwarf nodded, "Yes, the old fool. The most powerful mortal thaumateurge."
Corley raised an eyebrow, and the Masked Dwarf sighed again, "I have little time to devote to this matter, so I will explain in brief. I'm sure you've heard that every living creature, or almost every living creature, generates a very small amount of magic by themselves? The knights have a measure for this, the dwarum. Every feat of magic we perform generates a certain number of dwarums. Even I don't know exactly how the strength of ones aura relates to the amount of magic they can channel, but generally a stronger aura means that the creature can channel more magic safely. To put it in perspective, I can channel almost 5000 dwarums with the aid of my lords, and the ritual you used to create your, ah, children, was almost that much, made easier by the ritualistic nature of it."
The Masked Dwarf paused for a moment, then said, "I have personally seen the FractalEntity channel 20000 dwarums of power during a single spell. With ease."
The shock Corley was feeling must have shown on his face, because the Masked Dwarf chuckled slightly, "Don't say I didn't warn you."
The shadows wrapped around the Masked Dwarf, and suddenly Corley was alone again, staring into empty space.
Alright, I'm going to slip out of character and provide some information to put what I just said in perspective. The strength of one's magical aura is far, far lower than the amount the creature can actually channel, particularly if they have a pact with a greater entity that can provide power. The Masked Dwarf, by thaumometer reading, gives off about 49 dwarums of power on a constant basis, which jumps up significantly while using magic. Corley is less magically powerful than the Masked Dwarf, with his spell that created the bloodkin made far easier with the sacrifice of such powerful creatures as demons and the nature of the spell as a ritual. Most mortal magic users, without a pact, can manage between 100-500 dwarums, while pact-bound can sometimes manage 500-2000. I'll probably provide at least some of this information in a later post, but I just wanted to clear something up fairly quickly.
Also, while the Masked Dwarf is technically telling the truth about Fractal's power, he/she is, as usual, leaving something out. The nature of the power source Fractal uses is such that while the power is easy to draw on, it is also incredibly inefficient at accomplishing its task. The sheer power required the generate even a small spacetime rift means that Fractal is using almost three times the amount of energy as a normal mage during most spells. Again, I'll probably reveal this later in character, but I just wanted to get this said so that people don't misinterpret what I'm doing.
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Topic: Demongate: Wrapping up the Loose Ends. (Read 698369 times)