memories of Thay and its skilled necromancers bringing a horrid smile to his lips. He looked to the forest, feeling the fevered stares from between the trees, and thought wryly, We’ve come a long way from dancing bones and playing in the dirt.
“Did you tell her? Does Morgynn know we demand the blood of the Hoarite?” Talmen appeared at Khaemil’s side, following the canomorph’s gaze into the forest’s depths.
“Lady Morgynn has more things on her mind than petty vengeance, Malefactor Talmen. Especially concerning the death of Mahgra.” Khaemil did not favor Talmen by reacting to his sudden and silent approach with anything less than nonchalance.
“Our Order is weakened and Morgynn does not react?” The Gargauthan was angry. There were few friends among those of his faith, and the death of a powerful ally was not to be taken lightly.
“Mahgra was a fool, Talmen. He had a pack of gnoll warriors and his own formidable magic. A single man tore apart Mahgra’s foothold in Targris. Is this the ally you wish vengeance for? I had no idea loyalty was so strong among your kind. It borders oncompassion.” Khaemil said the last to needle Talmen’s growing suspicion into a more logical frame of thought. What he said of Mahgra was true, but Talmen need not know the ghostwalker was drawn into the matter purposely.
“It is not loyalty I speak of, but caution. One man did cause Mahgra’s fall and the loss of Targris. Imagine what else such a man might do.”
“Hoarites are not known for their heroics. They kill when they are called and move on. He is likely miles away by now.”
“We don’t know for sure, do we? We have no idea who he is, and we are unable to scry upon him if he walks the shadow road. How can we be sure the oracles have not seen himand Targris, or even Logfell?”
“You worry too much, Talmen.”
“Do I? I’ve watched too many of our plans in the past become foiled by overconfidence and missed details. Why should this be any different?”
“Because this time, we do not hide.”
Talmen looked around in confusion at the ruins and the forest, and huffed an incredulous reply. “I’d say we are smack in the middle of hidden, canomorph.”
Khaemil smiled, enjoying Talmen’s ignorance and paranoia.
“The oracles, Talmen.”
“What of them? Why are you smiling?”
Khaemil enjoyed baiting Talmen with mysteries. The malefactor was nervous and easily pushed to anger.
“They know already. That we are here, and that we are coming.”
The Gargauthan’s eyes grew wide behind his mask. He was speechless at this news.
Khaemil chuckled deeply as thunder boomed overhead.
“All of our work has been for naught! We might have just as easily charged in as barbarians from the north! What good has creeping into these ruins done?”
Khaemil watched him curiously, wondering how the Gargauthan had managed to survive among the devil-god’s faithful for so long. He looked ridiculous pacing about in his hideous mask, gesticulating wildly as he mumbled to himself.
“This is a dangerous game that Morgynn plays at. The Savrathans may appear complacent, but they are visionaries! Seers! We cannot surprise them or catch them off guard. They will anticipate our moves!” Talmen pointed at Khaemil and then to the east, roughly in the direction of Brookhollow and the oracles’ temple. He yelled above the noise of the chanting wizard-priests and the grumbling storms they gathered.
“Precisely, fool,” Khaemil answered calmly, but irritation in his voice let slip the hidden growl of his bestial nature.
Before Talmen could respond to the insult, both of them became aware of a vibration on the air, a voice that rose above everything else. Looking up at the tower, flashes of light could be seen in Morgynn’s window as her voice navigated the winding corridors of magic, becoming a slow shriek of mind-numbing power. Red mist spilled from the window like a living waterfall, taking flight and dancing in a
“Did you tell her? Does Morgynn know we demand the blood of the Hoarite?” Talmen appeared at Khaemil’s side, following the canomorph’s gaze into the forest’s depths.
“Lady Morgynn has more things on her mind than petty vengeance, Malefactor Talmen. Especially concerning the death of Mahgra.” Khaemil did not favor Talmen by reacting to his sudden and silent approach with anything less than nonchalance.
“Our Order is weakened and Morgynn does not react?” The Gargauthan was angry. There were few friends among those of his faith, and the death of a powerful ally was not to be taken lightly.
“Mahgra was a fool, Talmen. He had a pack of gnoll warriors and his own formidable magic. A single man tore apart Mahgra’s foothold in Targris. Is this the ally you wish vengeance for? I had no idea loyalty was so strong among your kind. It borders oncompassion.” Khaemil said the last to needle Talmen’s growing suspicion into a more logical frame of thought. What he said of Mahgra was true, but Talmen need not know the ghostwalker was drawn into the matter purposely.
“It is not loyalty I speak of, but caution. One man did cause Mahgra’s fall and the loss of Targris. Imagine what else such a man might do.”
“Hoarites are not known for their heroics. They kill when they are called and move on. He is likely miles away by now.”
“We don’t know for sure, do we? We have no idea who he is, and we are unable to scry upon him if he walks the shadow road. How can we be sure the oracles have not seen himand Targris, or even Logfell?”
“You worry too much, Talmen.”
“Do I? I’ve watched too many of our plans in the past become foiled by overconfidence and missed details. Why should this be any different?”
“Because this time, we do not hide.”
Talmen looked around in confusion at the ruins and the forest, and huffed an incredulous reply. “I’d say we are smack in the middle of hidden, canomorph.”
Khaemil smiled, enjoying Talmen’s ignorance and paranoia.
“The oracles, Talmen.”
“What of them? Why are you smiling?”
Khaemil enjoyed baiting Talmen with mysteries. The malefactor was nervous and easily pushed to anger.
“They know already. That we are here, and that we are coming.”
The Gargauthan’s eyes grew wide behind his mask. He was speechless at this news.
Khaemil chuckled deeply as thunder boomed overhead.
“All of our work has been for naught! We might have just as easily charged in as barbarians from the north! What good has creeping into these ruins done?”
Khaemil watched him curiously, wondering how the Gargauthan had managed to survive among the devil-god’s faithful for so long. He looked ridiculous pacing about in his hideous mask, gesticulating wildly as he mumbled to himself.
“This is a dangerous game that Morgynn plays at. The Savrathans may appear complacent, but they are visionaries! Seers! We cannot surprise them or catch them off guard. They will anticipate our moves!” Talmen pointed at Khaemil and then to the east, roughly in the direction of Brookhollow and the oracles’ temple. He yelled above the noise of the chanting wizard-priests and the grumbling storms they gathered.
“Precisely, fool,” Khaemil answered calmly, but irritation in his voice let slip the hidden growl of his bestial nature.
Before Talmen could respond to the insult, both of them became aware of a vibration on the air, a voice that rose above everything else. Looking up at the tower, flashes of light could be seen in Morgynn’s window as her voice navigated the winding corridors of magic, becoming a slow shriek of mind-numbing power. Red mist spilled from the window like a living waterfall, taking flight and dancing in a
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