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"Didn't Logranth say he only wanted the craftsmen?" he said, frowning slightly, trying to reason with his aging companion. The newly inducted Pyromancer knew well what happened to those who tried to fool Logranth. "Don't you remember when I tried? And that village woman had a lot of resemblance to Valesta, much more than these soldiers have to any craftsman.
"Shut up, Samuel." The words came easily through his barely parted, bloodstained lips. For a moment, his eyes, shimmering with a reddish glow, rested upon the bodies laid before him.
Samuel nodded, stepping back a foot, his own eyes taking in the carnage. Dwarven soliders lay amidst their fellow dwarves, miners and smiths still grasping the tools of their respective trades. On the outskirts lay a pile of brigands, their foolish schemes to waylay the duo having taken a horrible turn. Their bodies showed the consequences of their miscalculations - some were still bleeding, others had burnt clothing. A few minutes went by in silence, as Samuel watched the older man. "I'm telling you, it won't work."
Finally looking fully at the boy, Abaddon smirked. "I thought I said...to shut up, Samuel." His focus seemed to linger upon the boy's eyes a moment, the next, Samuel began to fumble around.
"I can't see....I'm blind!" His eyes had taken on a cloudy look. He began to feel around, looking for something. After a minute or two, he found what he had been searching for and uncorked a glass bottle, lifting it to his lips and taking a quick sip. His eyes returned to their natural, auburn brown shade. Samuel muttered under his breath, wondering why he had suddenly gone blind.
"Be glad I have more patience then most, Samuel." The words were as clear as the sky on a weatherless day, but Samuel noticed the Forsaken was more than a few feet away, his attention now focused solely on gathering up some of the dwarves. He began to wonder if he was just imagining things, but pushed the thought from his mind. He was not going insane, he knew that much.
Walking behind Abaddon, they made their way to Logranth, who was busy telling one of the nearby guards about how he'd gotten his current position. The guard paid him little attention, though, gazing at the two men now walking towards his post.
"Some craftsmen for you, Logranth." Abaddon said quietly.
Logranth looked the bodies of the dwarves up and down, giving each a once over. He nodded twice, and a minion hurried forward obediently from his place behind the guard. The minion gathered the dwarven bodies, being careful not to miss any, lest he incur the wrath of Logranth. Logranth threw a few coins in Abaddon's direction.
"You're short, Logranth." Abaddon said.
"Am I?" The sneer in his voice was certainly audible. "Here’s some advice for you that your little friend here already heard: Next time, do a better job of disguising the soldiers as craftsmen."
A few of the guards snickered, and Samuel joined them, all of them realizing their mistake moments too late. The guards who had begun snickering suddenly stopped, the only noise now coming from them being that of a man choking, their hands grasping at their throat. They fell with loud THUD sounds, their bodies having fallen haphazardly as their last ounces of strength gave way. Some lay on the ground, still clutching their throats, even in death.
Samuel staggered backwards, as if he had lost control of his own body. He started dancing, his legs repeating the same movements to a jig he knew, to some music that he couldn't even hear. Samuel tried with all of his might, but nothing he did could stop his dancing. Maybe he really was going crazy after all.
After ten minutes or so, he finally stopped, his legs feeling more numb than tired.The guards were laughing quite loudly at how stupid the young one looked, and even Logranth let out a few chuckles near the end. Samuel looked at Abaddon, trying to find an answer, but all his elder offered was a slight smirk, accompanied by a shrug.
He had had enough crazy things happen to him for one day. He bowed before Abaddon and Logranth, and ventured to his guild tower. He had wanted to learn, but found that Zarkharnos was busy scolding another Pyromancer about the misuse of his teachings. Having nothing else to do, he made his way back to the Eternal Flame, hoping to find comfort in it’s ever flickering fires.
The shadows flickered. He moved closer to the Eternal Flame, uncertain about what was about to happen.
"Shut up, Samuel." The words came easily through his barely parted, bloodstained lips. For a moment, his eyes, shimmering with a reddish glow, rested upon the bodies laid before him.
Samuel nodded, stepping back a foot, his own eyes taking in the carnage. Dwarven soliders lay amidst their fellow dwarves, miners and smiths still grasping the tools of their respective trades. On the outskirts lay a pile of brigands, their foolish schemes to waylay the duo having taken a horrible turn. Their bodies showed the consequences of their miscalculations - some were still bleeding, others had burnt clothing. A few minutes went by in silence, as Samuel watched the older man. "I'm telling you, it won't work."
Finally looking fully at the boy, Abaddon smirked. "I thought I said...to shut up, Samuel." His focus seemed to linger upon the boy's eyes a moment, the next, Samuel began to fumble around.
"I can't see....I'm blind!" His eyes had taken on a cloudy look. He began to feel around, looking for something. After a minute or two, he found what he had been searching for and uncorked a glass bottle, lifting it to his lips and taking a quick sip. His eyes returned to their natural, auburn brown shade. Samuel muttered under his breath, wondering why he had suddenly gone blind.
"Be glad I have more patience then most, Samuel." The words were as clear as the sky on a weatherless day, but Samuel noticed the Forsaken was more than a few feet away, his attention now focused solely on gathering up some of the dwarves. He began to wonder if he was just imagining things, but pushed the thought from his mind. He was not going insane, he knew that much.
Walking behind Abaddon, they made their way to Logranth, who was busy telling one of the nearby guards about how he'd gotten his current position. The guard paid him little attention, though, gazing at the two men now walking towards his post.
"Some craftsmen for you, Logranth." Abaddon said quietly.
Logranth looked the bodies of the dwarves up and down, giving each a once over. He nodded twice, and a minion hurried forward obediently from his place behind the guard. The minion gathered the dwarven bodies, being careful not to miss any, lest he incur the wrath of Logranth. Logranth threw a few coins in Abaddon's direction.
"You're short, Logranth." Abaddon said.
"Am I?" The sneer in his voice was certainly audible. "Here’s some advice for you that your little friend here already heard: Next time, do a better job of disguising the soldiers as craftsmen."
A few of the guards snickered, and Samuel joined them, all of them realizing their mistake moments too late. The guards who had begun snickering suddenly stopped, the only noise now coming from them being that of a man choking, their hands grasping at their throat. They fell with loud THUD sounds, their bodies having fallen haphazardly as their last ounces of strength gave way. Some lay on the ground, still clutching their throats, even in death.
Samuel staggered backwards, as if he had lost control of his own body. He started dancing, his legs repeating the same movements to a jig he knew, to some music that he couldn't even hear. Samuel tried with all of his might, but nothing he did could stop his dancing. Maybe he really was going crazy after all.
After ten minutes or so, he finally stopped, his legs feeling more numb than tired.The guards were laughing quite loudly at how stupid the young one looked, and even Logranth let out a few chuckles near the end. Samuel looked at Abaddon, trying to find an answer, but all his elder offered was a slight smirk, accompanied by a shrug.
He had had enough crazy things happen to him for one day. He bowed before Abaddon and Logranth, and ventured to his guild tower. He had wanted to learn, but found that Zarkharnos was busy scolding another Pyromancer about the misuse of his teachings. Having nothing else to do, he made his way back to the Eternal Flame, hoping to find comfort in it’s ever flickering fires.
The shadows flickered. He moved closer to the Eternal Flame, uncertain about what was about to happen.