that Harruq could not bear to watch them dance. Words spilled from the frail half-orc’s lips. Some were strong, demanding, while others came limping out, twisted in form and barely existing as they were meant to exist. The words, however, did not matter as much as the dark power rolling forth from Qurrah. His sheer will would determine the full strength of the spell.
A cold wind came blasting in, seemingly from all directions. Faster and faster, the words poured from Qurrah’s pale lips. Harruq braced himself as his hair fluttered before his eyes. The spell neared completion, and Velixar hissed in sheer pleasure at the power flaring from his apprentice. Qurrah shrieked out one final word, the signal, the climax of the spell.
“ Rise! ”
All around corpses staggered to their feet.
“Qurrah,” Harruq stammered but could say no more.
“Eight,” Qurrah gasped, dropping to his knees. “It is…I am sorry, master.”
Velixar walked about, examining each of the undead farmers. He remained quiet, hiding all emotion from his apprentice and even refusing to look at him.
“This is the first time you have ever brought the dead back to life,” Velixar said. “Correct?”
“Of this size, yes,” Qurrah answered. His entire body rose and fell according to his unsteady gasps.
The man in black turned to him.
“When I was first taught that same spell I managed only four. Rise from your feet, Qurrah Tun.” He faced the undead. “Kneel!” he shouted to them. At once, the eight bowed to Qurrah. Velixar placed a hand on the half-orc’s shoulder.
“It is your servants that should bow to you,” he said. “And one could not ask for a more gifted disciple.”
Qurrah stood but kept his head bowed. Harruq shifted on his feet, scared and confused. The eyes of his brother…tears?
“Thank you, my master,” whispered the half-orc. “I have never felt more honored.”
Velixar placed a hand atop Qurrah’s head and accepted the tears he knew the half-orc tried to hide. He had long thought the weaker emotions fled from his soul, but that night he felt an overwhelming sense of pride.
“Harruq,” Velixar said, his normally unshakable voice faltering. “Escort your brother home. Protect him, even unto death. He will usher in a new age to this world. Of this I have no doubt.” He shouted an order to Qurrah’s undead. The eight obeyed, marching out of town to join the rest of Velixar’s army.
“I will take control now,” he said to his disciple. “In time, the burden of sustaining life in them will seem weightless. Until then, let me bear it. Look at me.”
Qurrah did, his eyes red and his face wet. “Yes master?” he asked. No weakness tainted his voice. The man in black put a hand on either side of Qurrah’s face and drew him close.
“Become a god among men,” he whispered. “Remain faithful to me, and to Karak, and I shall see it come to pass.”
Qurrah nodded but said nothing. Instead, he turned and joined his brother.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
“I’m thinking that’s a great idea,” Harruq said. The two stepped around the bodies of the slain as they headed east, leaving Velixar alone in the emptiness of Cornrows.
“Incredible,” Velixar said when they were gone. “Never would I have guessed they had such power.” He paused, listening to the words of his master. The man in black smiled.
“If you didn’t know then I do not feel as blind,” he said. “He will surpass me. Surpass us all. Should I bring him to your dark paladins?”
Karak’s answer was swift.
Let him learn at your side. He loves you, and this love will drive him to power not seen since I walked Dezrel. Use it. Give me a sacrifice worthy of my name. Burn the east to the ground.
Velixar closed his eyes and bowed his head in acknowledgement.
“Only in absolute emptiness is there order,” he said, the goal of all those who worshiped Karak and knew the true purpose of their lives. “And I will bring order.”
T he
A cold wind came blasting in, seemingly from all directions. Faster and faster, the words poured from Qurrah’s pale lips. Harruq braced himself as his hair fluttered before his eyes. The spell neared completion, and Velixar hissed in sheer pleasure at the power flaring from his apprentice. Qurrah shrieked out one final word, the signal, the climax of the spell.
“ Rise! ”
All around corpses staggered to their feet.
“Qurrah,” Harruq stammered but could say no more.
“Eight,” Qurrah gasped, dropping to his knees. “It is…I am sorry, master.”
Velixar walked about, examining each of the undead farmers. He remained quiet, hiding all emotion from his apprentice and even refusing to look at him.
“This is the first time you have ever brought the dead back to life,” Velixar said. “Correct?”
“Of this size, yes,” Qurrah answered. His entire body rose and fell according to his unsteady gasps.
The man in black turned to him.
“When I was first taught that same spell I managed only four. Rise from your feet, Qurrah Tun.” He faced the undead. “Kneel!” he shouted to them. At once, the eight bowed to Qurrah. Velixar placed a hand on the half-orc’s shoulder.
“It is your servants that should bow to you,” he said. “And one could not ask for a more gifted disciple.”
Qurrah stood but kept his head bowed. Harruq shifted on his feet, scared and confused. The eyes of his brother…tears?
“Thank you, my master,” whispered the half-orc. “I have never felt more honored.”
Velixar placed a hand atop Qurrah’s head and accepted the tears he knew the half-orc tried to hide. He had long thought the weaker emotions fled from his soul, but that night he felt an overwhelming sense of pride.
“Harruq,” Velixar said, his normally unshakable voice faltering. “Escort your brother home. Protect him, even unto death. He will usher in a new age to this world. Of this I have no doubt.” He shouted an order to Qurrah’s undead. The eight obeyed, marching out of town to join the rest of Velixar’s army.
“I will take control now,” he said to his disciple. “In time, the burden of sustaining life in them will seem weightless. Until then, let me bear it. Look at me.”
Qurrah did, his eyes red and his face wet. “Yes master?” he asked. No weakness tainted his voice. The man in black put a hand on either side of Qurrah’s face and drew him close.
“Become a god among men,” he whispered. “Remain faithful to me, and to Karak, and I shall see it come to pass.”
Qurrah nodded but said nothing. Instead, he turned and joined his brother.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
“I’m thinking that’s a great idea,” Harruq said. The two stepped around the bodies of the slain as they headed east, leaving Velixar alone in the emptiness of Cornrows.
“Incredible,” Velixar said when they were gone. “Never would I have guessed they had such power.” He paused, listening to the words of his master. The man in black smiled.
“If you didn’t know then I do not feel as blind,” he said. “He will surpass me. Surpass us all. Should I bring him to your dark paladins?”
Karak’s answer was swift.
Let him learn at your side. He loves you, and this love will drive him to power not seen since I walked Dezrel. Use it. Give me a sacrifice worthy of my name. Burn the east to the ground.
Velixar closed his eyes and bowed his head in acknowledgement.
“Only in absolute emptiness is there order,” he said, the goal of all those who worshiped Karak and knew the true purpose of their lives. “And I will bring order.”
T he
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