the skill and knowledge, could access it yourself. One thing Gullanin didn’t know was how did the gods fit into the picture? Did they create the Ru’Ach, or were they a construct of the Ru’Ach? It was a question that had eluded him his entire long life, and he figured he’d never find the answer.
Janrick, high priest to Gould, moved toward Gullanin with purpose. He was tall and wraith-like, his black robe sparkling with interwoven silver thread.
“Do you have it?” Janrick asked briskly.
Smiling, Gullanin showed his yellow and rotting teeth. He was going to savor this, for it was he who had found the book, not they.
“I do, Janrick,” Gullanin said whispering several words of power. Janrick moved away from the wizard, fearful that he was casting a spell at him. There was not a lot of trust between the minions of the Dark One, and why would there be? Personal gain and power was what the Forsworn stood for, and they were rewarded for being ruthless, greedy, and embodiments of injustice.
After a few seconds Gullanin held out his right hand and a swirling form began to materialize at his fingertips. It was square and lined in purple flames. When the flames disappeared, a small leather bound book lay in his hands. It looked old and insignificant.
“That is it?” asked Kane, high priest to Dykreel, not bothering to mask his disappointed tone. Kane was thick of belly, a direct correlation to his favorite past time…eating. He was a sloth, receiving great pleasure from food as well as torturing anyone who was an adherent to the benevolent gods of Kraawn. He lived to hear them cry in pain for their gods’ help. In the end they died screaming, seemingly abandoned by their gods. Kane’s great pleasure came when the light in their eyes extinguished, the look of despair on their face when their god did not come to save them.
“It is. I hold the book that thousands have been seeking for many lifetimes.” Gullanin noticed the skeptical looks of the priests. “Do not judge the power contained in this book by its appearance. I have been studying the book for weeks and have yet to begin to tap its true power.”
“Be careful, Gullanin, our lord will not be happy if he knows you sought the power for yourself,” replied Cuthare, high priest to Naz-reen. Cuthare was slight of build but Gullanin knew that he held more hatred and malice in that small body than the other two high priests combined. He was ambitious and powerful, and one to watch.
“Cuthare, I had to analyze the book in order to find a way to bring back our lord. That is all I did. Besides, much of the power is beyond even me, and it would take countless years to understand it in order to harness that power. The book will be intact for our lord, that I promise you. It is my gift to him,” Gullanin finished, putting emphasis on the word my.
Gullanin did not miss the looks of hatred they shot his way. Their jealousy was palpable, and Gullanin knew they would likely kill him now if they learned how to use the magic in the book themselves, but the priests needed him…at least for now.
“Let us start,” replied Janrick. “Our lord has waited long enough. Is the vessel ready?”
Gullanin, smiling, whispered another series of words. Instantly more braziers flared to life and a loud noise directed their attention to the ceiling where a strange metal object was being lowered by a thick heavy chain. As it neared the center of the altar it could be seen more clearly. It was a statue of Gould with his arms out wide. The incredible piece was made from some dark polished stone in the shape of a cross, the body of Gould the vertical line, his outstretched arms the horizontal.
Gould was usually pictured simply as a hooded man draped in a black robe, and the statue before them was that exact image, except that it was huge, twice as tall as Gullanin, and strapped to the statue was a naked man. His arms were lashed to the outstretched arms of the statue by thick leather and his legs were tied similarly to the body.
The unconscious man was heavily muscled and covered with many scars, some fresh but most long ago healed. The hair on his head was shaved showing several days of stubble. He was a perfect specimen of a warrior, powerful looking, with