The Wielder of Death Magic

“What did master get so scared about,” Avon wondered, time was about two in the evening. He walked around the enormous mansion. Opening doors didn’t become an issue for he only but walked through the walls. It came as a surprise when the adventurers arrived conveniently after Kniq left. Being curious as well as loving to spy on others, Avon boldly walked in front of the conversation. It turned to be an amusement when none could see where one was.

“Welcome back,” the lord greeted with the palms rubbing against one another. “thank you sire,” the party saluted. “No need to be formal,” the lord interrupted, “-we’ve organized a small feast for thy entertainment,” he gave out a smile that could send shivers down anyone’s spine. ‘Can’t they see that this lord is shady as hell,’ Avon bit the lips in frustration. Why would somebody trust anyone so openly, questions filled the thoughts yet no answers were found.

“Follow me this way, gentlemen,” the demeanor changed to one of authority and power. The lord walked; each step echoed down the endless hall. “Are you sure this is wise brother?” Jasper asked to which the elder replied, “who is to pass on a feast organized by a noble. Do you realize how much good food might present itself to our stomachs?” the mouth visibly watered, the guy was a glutton at heart. Hearing his fantasies about the possible dishes, the others gave in and followed. Not to mention the scent, it smelled like heaven on a plate.

“Thank you for the food,” the adventurers ate, Avon watched, the stomach screamed but he stood. The eyes firmly laid on the lord; he was too sketchy. Nevertheless, a faint muffle caught his ear, it came from below the floor. Normally, none would have heard it, however, Avon wasn’t human. ‘Interesting,’ after a few minutes of walking through walls and doors in hopes of finding a secret passage; he found what he wanted. A door, hidden behind a bookcase, cliché at its peak – to that he let a small chuckle. “One step for man, one giant leap for...” he stepped through, screams broke the speech. It echoed; the door had successfully blocked out any sound. “Another sadist lord, how lovely,” slowly, Avon advanced.

The staircase headed down, it went on and on and on, without end. Avon grew suspicious; to which the discovery of an illusion spell was found. *Snap,* the fake world, a mirror that reflected the stair. This made anyone who dared enter feel like they walked for eternity. “Simple yet effective, good job,” he complimented out of jest.

A dark room, multiple cages with the door firmly locked. Eyes that looked perpetually saddened and in pain, the screams came from the ones who were laid to rest partially half-dead. The bodies cried in agony, the lord wasn’t simply a sadist, but a murderer. The room reeked of rotten corpses – blood and iron, nothing could be distinguished. As Avon came closer, peculiar necklaces were discovered. Porcelain up to Steel, the cages were littered with those small trinkets. “Is this where all those adventurers went missing?” the eyes turned to disgust. Before anything could be done, a trapdoor opened. Four loud impact sound resounded – the unconscious body of Shark’s party.

.....

‘I wish I could do something,’ he wondered. “hey you,” a feminine voice reached out and startled the still invisible Avon. “Me?” he pointed to himself and asked. “Yes, you,” the girl replied firmly, “I won’t ask how you can see me, however, I’m all ears,” he walked through the caged door and sat. “I was just wondering how you discovered this place,” a black hood covered the head. “Sent on orders to investigate, what’s the story with you. What’s this place?”

She took a seat right beside and spoke, “do you really wish to know the story?” Avon nodded.

“Before we begin, I’d like to show you something,” the hood got pulled away, her identity was revealed. “-I’m not human, I’m from Arda – my name...” she shook her head and decided to forgo that information, Avon didn’t care. The one who sat before him was unique – a fox-eared girl, revered as a god by some, the God of harvest.

“I can see the look in thine eyes, tis the eyes of a man who thinks I’m a god. Sadly, it cannot be farther from the truth – I’m but a fox-eared demi-human. Nothing more, nothing less, a puny demi,” she knew what he thought, Avon’s eyes filled with admiration.

“Anyways,” her tone changed to more casual, “-I was initially sold as property for many years. From owner to owner, till I grew sick and a slave-trader took me in. There I was sent to brothels and sold as human’s plaything. Many tried to have their way but their death made me unattainable. I was tortured for killing their customers, I didn’t mind the pain. However, not until recently I was bought by the owner of this mansion. A sadist by heart as you’ve seen the corpses. Though he didn’t treat me anything remotely close to that. I got given food, stale but food. No torture just told to be naked when he walks in. Not even an attempt to lay his hands on me. The man was scared, scared of my curse – though fiction but partly true. From the months I’ve lived here, I’ve seen the things that man does. He lures just about anyone to then kill them slowly. The preferred method is strangulation. Though, the prey as he called them died too quickly. A change was brought, he decided to lure adventurers. The first one to succumb and fall prey was a boy – ranked fairly low. The resistance shown was worthy of being called a hero – though weak and feeble. The boy didn’t give, he stood fast and took all the abuse. The lord had him for a few weeks till the boy’s body gave,’ she paused, Avon took all in. Their conversation went for hours on end – the more she spoke, the more information he got.

Minutes turned into hours, Avon really took a liking to that girl. She had a weird charm about her, not to mention the supposed curse. They spoke on and on.

Staxius arrived at the guild with a stern face. The trophy was placed onto the counter, “congratulations,” Melisa tried to cheer but Staxius refused. “No, I don’t want any cheers.” The few people who had visited were perplexed. The man completed a tier-three quest and not an ounce of happiness could be seen. “Are you that obnoxious?” Diane walked closer to Melisa, “-can’t you just accept things at face value,” she sighed.

“I’m angry, and there’s a good reason for that,” he paused and stared. “that quest was anything but tier-three, the coins dropped were but copper and a little bit a silver. Do you think that is enough for a high-level beast?” he voiced his concern.

“I guess the payout of 550 gold is a bit less for tier-three,” Melisa gave into his authority. “Well anyways, a job is a job,” he coughed. “Thanks for your service,” she placed the reward to which Staxius took without a second thought. “One more thing, I’m doing my own investigation on this matter. If anything comes up, please contact me, I shall be staying at Zer’s Dorm for the time being,” they left.

“Everyone,” he stopped, “-you’re free to do whatever. Go take a bath, relax and have some food; I’ll look around town for a place to set-up shop. We need more income, adventuring quest won’t cut it,” the realization that doing errands all day won’t get as much money as selling scrolls. Having nothing else to do, Undrar remained in fairy form and sat on the shoulder. “Master, I shall accompany you,” Achilles didn’t want to leave.

Hence, the crew walked around town, the search for a shop got interrupted by many distractions. Mainly Achilles running off after thieves she sensed in the back-alleys. Her nature as a good-willed individual didn’t diminish one bit. What Staxius saw wasn’t a girl, but a hero – a true one. He saw it all, the thirst for justice. Her forgiving nature, she walked with her head held up high. No regrets, no doubt, her actions were pure and simple. The small display of heroism here and there gained her a quaint little reputation.

During their stroll, the tallest building to ever be made was spotted. The headquarters for any and all guilds, Staxius looked but the roof wasn’t in sight. Questions about its true nature were hard to pass up, thus he walked in with the aura of someone reputable. A quick chat revealed that the upper floors, about five of them were already sold. The top guilds were quick to give in, a symbol of power. However, the farthest upper floor had a price tag as hefty as a block of mansions. It reached into the eight digits, a fortune. In the face of that, he left with a massive grin on the face. That much money was dreams for many, however, this lit a fire.

What better way to establish one’s position than acquiring the unattainable. “Achilles, Undrar, we have to start our business soon. That top floor will be ours one day, however, the start will be small. Not to threat, I’ve got plans and ideas,” he smiled – the person in mind was the wizard in the magical guild. Getting 50,000,000 gold wasn’t going to be easy, an insurmountable obstacle.

“Are you insane?” Undrar yelled, “that much money just for a place to call our headquarters. We could make a fortress covered with protection magic and hire the best of the best and sustain them for more than ten-years. Do you really wish to tell me that you plan to buy that thing?” her heart sank, “-that much money could turn Dorchester into a better town, “-are you listening to me?” she argued.

“I hear what you say, I’m not that foolish. That price tag is far superior than anything we can ever imagine. However, I truly don’t think it’s that hard. Imagine a healing scroll with a relic quality. Basically, a resurrection spell for anyone in whatever epoch. Do you know how much that would sell for? It’s priceless; not individuals, but kingdoms and countries would fight over to attain it. Do you understand, I have the possibility to make a national treasure.” When put that way, the prospect became feasible, though the stance remained defensive.

“I don’t think you have the skill required to make a relic level scroll,” Undrar gave her truest thoughts. “What you say is true, I lack the knowledge. However, that can be remedied with a small visit to Lord death’s realm now wouldn’t it,” he winked.

“No, you are definitely not going there again. Do what you want, I’m not taking your sorry ass back into that place again.” She remained adamant and defiant. “Ha-ha-ha,” he laughed out loud, this was the first he heard her cuss and speak rudely. “Very ladylike,” he teased, however, she remained firm.

“What you say is preposterous,” he breathed, “who am I again?” he asked; her eyes rolled. “The heir to the god of death,” she sighed heavily, “still, I’m not taking you there,” her lips pouted. “Are you worried that I’ll stay there and leave you alone once more?” he knew what she felt. History repeated itself, she didn’t want to be any part in him leaving behind all the things he had worked for.

“Fine,” he gave, “I’ll make do with what is available here. With one condition, you are to head into that realm in my stead and get a list of all the books they have. I care not if tis against the law for I’m the next ruler. That knowledge is rightfully mine – I hope you understand what I mean.” The voice turned serious.

“Point taken,” they came to an agreement.