Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Tales From the Host Tower of the Arcane 3

She was so cold.

Heilean Eather looked out from her ice-crusted eyelids and beyond, past her magical prison into the eyes of evil. Karlot was all white from his hair and brow, down to his long pallid ghostly robes. White-hot eyes peered out from under a mithril crown- its primary gemstone an ellipsoid the color of old blood. His gaze was terrible for her to behold, she tried to look away but lacked the strength to do so.

He paced slowly, casually watching Heilean shiver painfully from the cold.

“Cold,” the white mage said at length. “Freezing to death is the worst way to die my lady. Did you know this? It slowly drains your life force while your body fights to maintain itself before your organs slowly begin to freeze and cease functioning. It is agonizing I assure you.”


As if on cue a violent shuttering wracked Heilean as her body began to fight off the effects of the cold.

“Already it has begun.” The mage tittered.

“You will not leave here alive Lady Luck I promise.” He spoke with an ageless voice that was even and sure. 

From Heilean’s right a pale skinned woman dressed in a white bridal gown entered her field of vision. The woman regarded Heilean with hungry malevolence as she pawed and snarled like a rabid beast, Karlot held her at bay and therefore kept her distance.

“This is Catriona,” Karlot said. “She will be your new master.”

At these words Catriona bared her long deadly incisors and bit deeply into Heilean’s exposed wrists and drank deeply of her lifeblood.

Heilean cried out in pain and despair; shuddering convulsions gripped her as she quickly found herself drifting in and out of consciousness. All she knew in this broken time was unknown periods of darkness interrupted by contrasting blurry visions of painful white. Her mouth went suddenly dry cutting off her screams and her eyes began to sting as if they were burned out. Heilean could hear taunting laughter and lustful smacking sounds as bleak coldness, never before known by the living, began to coarse through her body.

Chants and excited syllables of arcane magic took the place of laughter but was cut off as sudden strength like molten silver poured into Heilean; healing energies invigorated her ending her convulsions and allowed her vision to clear.


To Heilean’s left a pair of Hosttower sorceresses appeared excited and alarmed then a deep unseen explosion rocked the Hostower. From the distance Heilean could hear Kelemvor’s trumpets breaking through the chaos and knew rescue was on its way. 

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