each curved to deadly points, and carved into the flat blades were depictions of demons and other denizens of the lower planes. The handle, made from the same light steel, was wrapped with the tough scaled skin of a black dragon.
Malbeck shifted slightly as the large double doors to the throne room opened. Gullanin, Malbeck’s follower and a powerful wizard in his own right, entered the throne room and prostrated himself before his master. The man was old and frail, and he wore a silver skullcap engraved with Gould’s white eye.
Behind him were three high priests to the Forsworn, Janrick, high priest to Gould, Cuthare, high priest to Dykreel, and Kane, high priest to Naz’reen. They, too, bowed before their master.
“What is your report?” asked Malbeck, his low voice deep and resonant.
“My Lord, Tarsis is in ruin and the Tarsinian army is destroyed,” replied Gullanin.
“What of Kromm?” interjected Malbeck.
“He escaped with a small group, but we know he is near, he can’t have gotten far,” Gullanin replied quickly.
“We must find him and kill him.” Malbeck turned his milky white eyes toward the high priests. “Are you ready to serve me in this task?”
Janrick stepped forward and bowed his head. “Of course, my Lord, what would you have us do?”
Malbeck smiled wickedly and stood up from the throne. His form was impressive, strong arms, chest, and shoulders, tapered to a thin waist surrounded by rippling muscle. “Hunt him down and rip his heart out.”
Janrick shifted uneasily and looked sideways at Gullanin who stepped back away from him, as if to distance himself from something diseased.
“How would you like us to do this?” Janrick asked.
“With your own teeth and claws of course,” Malbeck replied, taking one big step toward them.
Cuthare and Kane stepped back from their lord, unsure of what was happening, his words making no sense. Janrick held his ground but looked about nervously.
“My Lord, I’m not sure what you mean,” said Janrick.
“You will serve the Forsworn in the ultimate way, by giving up your life to their service.”
Janrick, Cuthare, and Kane started to back away slowly, their eyes going wide with fear and surprise.
“But my Lord, we brought you back, we have served you well…” stammered Kane.
“You did not bring me back, Gullanin did. And yes, you have served me well, which is why I am giving you this reward. You will become the Hounds of Gould, and serve him in this task.” Malbeck approached the trio slowly as he whispered a few words of power. The priests were backing away from Malbeck when they froze in mid-step, unable to move.
“Gullanin, please cut their throats,” whispered Malbeck as he began another spell. His words whispered around the trio as they struggled to free themselves from the powerful spell. Their eyes widened with fright at the Dark One’s words.
Gullanin unsheathed a razor sharp blade and approached Janrick from behind. He did not hesitate as he brought the sharp edge across the immobilized priest’s throat. Janrick’s blood squirted from the deep cut and splattered onto the stone floor. Malbeck’s spell held Janrick’s body upright as his blood continued to pool at his feet. Cuthare and Kane suffered the same fate and then Gullanin stepped back from the dying trio.
Malbeck continued to chant.
The words were not familiar to Gullanin, probably ancient words from the Shan Cemar. He tried to concentrate on the words, tried to remember them, but they seemed to waft around the room and then disappear from his mind.
Malbeck’s staff was glowing brightly as he came to the end of his spell, his voice a crescendo of power. Suddenly the tip of the staff flared brightly and three beams of light shot forth to strike the pools of blood that had formed at the feet of the dying priests. Almost immediatly the light disappeared, leaving behind three pools of blood, sizzling and boiling.
All three of the bodies fell to the floor with a dull thud as the blood began to boil and froth even more. Gullanin stepped back and watched the transformation as the three pools expanded and boiled more violently. As he watched, the boiling blood began to take form, growing from the ground, emerging from the crimson pools. The three forms pulsed with life, growing slowly into a writhing rust colored mass that grew to the size of a small horse. Four clawed legs began to push from the flesh, as a head that resembled a dog strained forward, stretching the translucent skin.