Chapter 4 - "Stolen by a half-elf"

In which our villains are introduced.

Dene Sarin hurried along the gloomy tunnel that led her under the equally gloomy Syarg Forest. She did not like this one bit, but this was the moment her father had reluctantly prepared her for her entire life. Dene knew why he did not want to teach her the ways of their ancestors: she was not the son her father had wanted. This, however, made Dene try even harder to impress him.

She ran her fingers through her recently cut hair. She sighed as she remembered how long her brown tresses had once been. Her father had told her that if her presence was required, she could not reveal that she was a woman. So she cut her hair and taken her father's name. On top of that, she had wound cloth around her chest to flatten it. It was uncomfortable but necessary if she was to be accepted.

Dene squinted to see if she could make anything out in the dim light but to no avail. The flaming torch she was carrying only allowed her to see no more than three or four feet ahead of her, but it still gave her the illusion that the tunnel went on forever.

After half an hour, she came to a dead end. In front of her was a ladder and on either side were four torch holders, six of them already holding lit torches. Dene placed her torch in one of the two remaining holders and made her ascent. Just like the tunnel had been, the ladder seemed endless.

Dene did not know how long she had been climbing but was relieved when she reached the top. She dared herself to look down, feeling queasy when she couldn't see the bottom of the pit. She looked up, trying not to think about how far she would fall if she lost her grip. She pushed open the trapdoor that covered the hole and pushed herself up. Closing the trapdoor, which had been camouflaged using dead leaves stuck to a concoction similar to mud but was rock hard, Dene turned around and was greeted by the ruins of what would have once been a majestic tower.

The grey stones were covered in the green of ivy and moss, and were somewhat eroded by years of neglect and harsh weather. As Dene looked up, she noticed that the top half of the tower was missing and the stones at the top were blacked due to what appeared to be the aftermath on an explosion. Or an attack.

Pulling the hood of her red clock up as she approached the tower, Dene felt like she was being watched. Her suspicions were confirmed as she  noticed someone peering at her through a hatch in a heavy looking wood door. The hatch closed quickly as she reached the door. She knocked against the hard wood eight times. One long taps, two short, three long and another two short. It was the knock her father had taught her for when this day arrived. The door opened with a long and loud creak.

A tall man with his hood also pulled up stood before her. She could make out that he had blonde hair. His eyes were bright blue and although from a distance this man looked somewhat youthful, upon closer he had wrinkles and a slight beard that added about 10 years to him.

"Welcome, brother. Up the stairs and through the second door on the right of the corridor," he instructed her in a deep voice that had a dangerous edge to it. "We have one more to arrive so please take a seat in the meeting hall."

Dene nodded and followed the man's instructions. As she made her way up the long spiral staircase, she took in her surroundings. The stairs were covered in a deep red cloth that was torn and ragged around the edges. Torches that had cobwebs linking them to the iron holders lit the way and there were many glass boxes on stone podiums, all of which were coated in a layer of dust so thick that Dene could not see what was inside. The corridor was in the same state of disrepair. All the while a bitter wind blew through cracks in the old walls, causing the woman to shudder.

Soon she found the meeting room and opened the door. The room was large and round. Opposite the door was a huge window with the letter B created in red glass. Under the window was a throne that was made from the Derdoow tree, which was famous for its scarlet bark. Set into the walls were eight stone chairs, four on each side of the throne. Five of which had been filled by men of different shapes and sizes, all wearing identical red clocks, all with their hoods obscuring their faces.

Dene twitched slightly when the door slammed shut behind her and quickly made her way over to an empty chair to take a seat, un-nerved by the fact that the room was completely silent. The only sound that was heard was her boots against the stone floor. After she sat down, she heard the rhythmic tapping of nails against stone. She looked around to find the source of the sound. A large scaly rust-coloured hand tipped with long pointed nails indicated that the tapper was most likely to be a Dragonborn.

After what felt like hours, the door swung open and the blonde man entered the room followed by a short, stout figure scuttled in behind him and took a seat next to her. The taller man sat in the throne. Dene frowned. He had said that there was one more to arrived, yet there was a spare seat.

"Greetings, my brothers. I am most pleased to see that we are all present," he stood up and removed his hood. "All of you will give your names and provide proof of your identity. I am Sirah, descendent of Regdar, controller of still objects." Sirah held out his hand, pointing at a hideous looking gargoyle that was on the arm of the empty chair. The sound of stone scrapping against stone as the creature moved, its small wings stretching as if about to fly. Without a word, the gargoyle flew through the window, smashing it but only leaving a small hole in it. There was a small applause when the gargoyle flew back in, a terrified human male gripped in its stone claws.

The male was dropped on the floor and the stone creature returned to the chair and became still once more. The figure next to Sirah rose from his seat, also removing his hood to reveal a pale, gaunt face which made him look more like a walking corpse than an actual human being.

"I am Azaleh, descendent of Mikal. I have the ability to feed on fear." And with that, Azaleh shuddered. Within seconds he had turning into a fanged beast. He roared at the shaking man on the floor, causing him to scream in terror. A black orb shot from the man and into Azaleh, who turn back into his human form, only this time he was more broad and looked healthier. More applause was given and the next man stood up.

He was the Dragonborn and introduced himself as Tien. He was a descendent of Heskan, who had control over venomous creatures. To prove this, he made a poisonous snake bite the human after which he made the snake slither up to him and curl around his arm. 

The next was a nervous looking elf by the name of Edahs, who had a habit of running his hands through his ebony hair and scratching at his scalp. He was a master of poisonous potions and was a distant relative of Carric. He created a potion that he fed to the already poisoned man. The liquid killed the man instantly.

After Edahs was a dark-skinned Drow with white hair that matched his eyes, Mebsuta, descendent of Adinimys and could control the dead. The dead man suddenly twitched and got up. Much to the amusement of everyone else, the dead human started dancing in a jerky fashion. Satisfied with his work, Mebsuta simply let the man fall with a loud thump.

The next male to speak was a was descendent of Garret and able control a sleeping being, a dwaf named Benetnasch. He asked Edahs to create a sleeping draught and then for someone to drink it. Azaleh volunteered and drunk the potion and falls asleep instantly. After a few moments of rubbing his own chin which was covered in ginger stubble, Benetnasch made the sleeping man climb up the wall and back down again. After releasing Azaleh, who woke up, both men sat down. Then it was Dene's turn.

She stood up, nervously removing her hood. She was expecting someone to stand up and reveal her identity but was thankful when no-one did. She cleared her throat before speaking in a low voice she had been perfecting for years.

"My name is Leonis. My ancestor is Therren, master of the shadows." She told them. Raising her hand, Dene closed her eyes and concentrated. She beckoned the shadows to come forward and do her bidding. She opened her eyes and smirked when she saw several dark figures rising from the shadows in the room. Sirah nodded in approval and the shadow people disappeared as Dene sat down.

The last man to stand was the mousy haired Halfling, Carrim, who was related to Gennal. His ability was to divide himself. Within moments, there were three short, lanky men instead of one. As quickly as they had appeared, the copies vanished and Carrim sat back down.

"Excellent. Now, on to business," Sirah said, sitting down. "Regdar, Mikal, Heskan, Carric, Adinimys, Garret, Therren and Gennal. These eight were the Crimson Brotherhood and students of the great Balasar, powerful warlock and creator of an army more powerful than those of any ruler of Arlos. But, alas, Balasar was defeated. Our ancestors attempted to resurrect Balasar using a ritual written upon the Scroll of Life but died whilst attempting to do so. We, my brothers, have assembled to finish what the original Brotherhood set out to do as one of our group had found the Scroll." Sirah turned to Carrim, glaring at the shorter man. "Unfortunately, it has been stolen by a half-elf. The daughter of a human by the name of Pieter Urthadar. The girl will be found and killed. The Scroll will be returned and we, the New Brotherhood, will bring back Balasar and stand by his side as he claims this world as his."

Author's Note

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