was translucent and it spun clockwise, like a whirlpool.
“It is working!” yelled Gullanin. “I have opened up a gate to the Ru’Ach!” Gullanin unconsciously moved backwards until he and the priests were standing against the wall. As they bumped into the stone, a bolt of purple energy shot from the gate hitting the statue of Gould. The man strapped to the statue shook violently as the energy shot through him, his legs and arms convulsing, his back arching involuntarily. The bolt lanced through him for several seconds before it rescinded back into the gate which disappeared before the four men could blink.
It was deathly quiet and pitch black. They silently waited several seconds before Gullanin noticed a pair of red glowing orbs from across the room.
“Do you see those red dots?” whispered Kane. “What are they?”
“They are eyes,” Gullanin quietly replied. As he said that, several more sets of red eyes appeared in five other spots around the room. Then it came to him.
“The black knights; they are awake,” the wizard whispered excitedly.
“They are not the only thing that is awake!” a deep booming voice rang out from the darkness. Simultaneously the braziers came to life, spreading their orange glow over the contents of the room.
Standing before them was a tall muscled man, completely naked. It was the man from the statue, but he looked different. He was taller, a full head taller than a Gould-Irin orc, with a bluish tone to his skin. His face was still hard, but it had changed as well. His features were more pointed and angular, his ears almost elvish. His teeth came to razor sharp tips and his eyes were a translucent white. Short, choppy, jet black hair framed a chiseled, but demonic face. The man, if it was a man anymore, was flexing his arms and hands and looking at himself in wonder. His massive striated muscles grew in size as he flexed them.
Then he laughed. The sound was loud and gravelly and full of power. His laughter reverberated in the circular room like an echo. Instantly the four men fell to their knees and bowed.
Gullanin was the first to speak. “My Lord, welcome back to Kraawn.”
One
The Meeting
Jonas stumbled down the town’s main road, his awkward gait punctuated by the wooden crutch that Gorum the baker made him for his fourteenth birthday, one year ago. His twisted hands could barely hold onto the crutch and the stale loaf of bread that his mother sent him to fetch.
It was a good day for Jonas. The cold winter air and heavy snows kept most people in the warm confines of their homes, which meant there were few people on the street to stare at his crippled and misshapen body as he slowly ambled home.
It was cold, the mountain air freezing him to his bones, his old battered and threadbare clothing doing little to keep him warm. Despite it all, he felt happy. There were no appalling looks from the townspeople, and Jonas’s stomach grumbled as he thought about the bread on their table tonight. It was indeed a good day.
Jonas was born a cripple. His bones never grew straight and he struggled to get his muscles to react to his commands. They always tightened up on him, causing him to spasm, twisting his legs and body into unnatural positions. Even his face would contort at times, making it difficult for him to talk. But his mind was sharp and his personality was uncharacteristically gentle and kind for someone in his position.
Despite his twisted and awkward body, his eyes sparkled with an inner light, and if anyone had bothered to stop long enough to talk to him, they would have noticed the intelligence and warmth hidden there. But few took the time to look past his frail and contorted form. Despite his obvious physical handicaps, Jonas’s face was handsome with bright eyes and wavy dark brown hair.
Cripples were often abandoned and left to die. It was believed that the goddess of the hunt, Shyann, disapproved of the birth and left her mark upon the child. More often than not, crippled children were seen as a bad omen for the town and the family. In a mountain town like Manson, ones very survival teetered back and forth on the whims of winter storms, wild animals, and roaming monsters looking for their next meal. It was important for the townspeople to believe in something that offered strength and to offer disdain to those who brought weakness. Jonas