“Bishimzon…” came a male voice from beyond the wizard’s slumber. The voice was neither hurried nor elevated but nevertheless echoed subtly within the prison halls. A rat squealed nearby.
The wizard opened his maniac eyes and looked at the solid cell door, a dim familiar light bleed out from the bottom casting dim light across the wizard’s eyes.
“Bishimzon it is time, we have to go. The time you have been waiting for is near.” Said the voice, it had a charismatic quality that Bishimzon recognized, it was handsome and undeniable. “Honestly we have to go now; the guards will come out of it soon and might suspect something. I am here to bring you in ahead of schedule.”
Ahead of schedule? The wizard stood somewhat dazed and pressed his back against the stone wall of his isolation cell and waited for the door to open.
“Handragath has made all the necessary arrangements and is ready; early yes but operations are finally on course again.” As the owner of the voice unlocked Bishimzon’s prison cell, the wizard shored up his will for the assault that might come- he was expendable was he not?
As the door opened light lanced into the cell briefly blinding the cult of the dragon wizard. When the light blindness wore off he at last saw Rathwill, the speaker who was holding out a scroll to the wizard. Rathwill closed the cell door behind him, dimming the light and leaving them both in the small isolation cell.
“You didn’t kill the gaurds?” Bishimzon asked unbelievably.
“Dead bodies cause investigations, I intend to keep your escape as quiet as possible.” Rathwill replied in his plaintive style.
“Damn I was hoping to kill a particular guard before I died in this dark hole, or take him with me. What about Nhar-del?” Bishimzon asked referring to the necromancer held in maximum security.
“High Priest Ryngoth says let him rot.” Rathwill replied. “We embrace a new faith now, a goddess and She promises new and forgotten magic. No longer ancient Velsharoon… alas much has changed in your absence.”
Bishimzon took the handed scroll, held it up to the low light, and immediately recognized a teleport scroll. Obviously Rathwill wanted the wizard to read the scroll and transport each of them form Swift Prison. Teleportation was a perilous venture with one target, keeping distances relatively short was ideal, but with two individuals as targets for the transportation magic, the spell was sure to go awry. Rathwill saw the trepidation in the Bishimzon’s wild eyes and reassured the wizard.
“Have faith.” came Rathwill’s persuasive and enthralling tones placing a forceful hand on the scroll.
“Where should we go?” Bishimzon asked taking his eyes off the scroll to look at Rathwill.