Gilles flew backwards through the portal, and suddenly he was falling through cold air. A landscape of lifeless dark brown came in and out of view as he tumbled. Even from this desperate and frantic perspective Gilles could easily tell he was no longer in Rakashi. A simple Fly spell would save him, but his lungs burned for air that refused to come. The kick had caused his diaphragm to spasm, knocking the wind out of him. He hadn’t felt a blow like that since leaving the Radiant Empire... Panic gripped him suddenly.
If this was an agent of the empire, then a fate far worse than death had finally caught up with him. No. There was no need to panic yet. He was strong now, had stepped into the realm of magic that few mortals could even comprehend. He finally oriented himself and activated a spell sequence artifact he wore around his neck. Six simultaneous protection spells shielded him from physical and elemental damage and boosted his physical strength to that of a mountain giant.
The ground was closing in, and he began the opening syllables of a Fly spell. His body felt lighter, but suddenly another blood red portal appeared just inches below his feet. He fell through it before he could stop himself. The ground suddenly loomed just a hundred feet below. Except it was no longer a canopy of dead trees rising up to greet him. The words of his spell slipped from his mind as he saw where he was falling. It was a titanic skull made of black and red obsidian. At the center of said skull sat a ruby eye the size of a small castle, still glaring with all consuming wrath. He was falling toward the open, jagged mouth. He couldn’t help but let his gaze take in the entire blasted body of the fallen colossus. The hundred meter tall tower of sorcery in the empire wouldn’t have approached the waist of this thing when it stood. Some great cataclysm had blasted the god like thing’s chest cavity wide open, leaving black splintered ribs jutting into the sky like reaching fingers.
He remembered his peril and frantically focused on his Fly spell. Another portal appeared just as he was going to pass into the great broken maw of the skull. He fell through it, and landed on a luxurious white rug, in an immaculate room. The subtle scent of lavender, and perfect room temperature confused and soothed him. His eyes drifted upward past the rug, taking in the polished hardwood floor and the wide glass window that took up an entire wall. The room was in a very high floor of whatever this place was. He could see a distant lake, and snowy mountains beyond that.
“It’s a million gold view, ain’t it?” Sweat beaded on Gilles’ brow as the familiar voice sounded from behind him. Unlike in the tavern, the man’s aura was now fully expressed. It was suffocating.
He turned to see the man relaxing easily in an exquisite white leather armchair. He held a tiny porcelain cup in one hand and an equally tiny saucer in the other. Gilles could smell the drink clearly. It was a bitter, yet strangely enticing aroma. No armor or weapons adorned his frame, and no grim faced guards stood at the ready. He appeared relaxed, vulnerable, but Gilles held no illusions. This man had sent him to view that titanic corpse for a very specific reason. “He wants me to know that he did it.”
“I gotta cut back on these espressos.” The man said, and took another unhurried sip. He might have said more but a light knock on the door beyond him made him turn. “It’s open!” He called genially.
A woman entered then, and Gilles gulped hard. Dark Alfar. They were common enough in the empire but practically non existent here. Few doubts remained about why he had been captured, and why he felt so utterly helpless now. Her attire was confusing and didn’t fit the style of the empire or anywhere else Gilles had been. She wore a sharp white suit with onyx buttons that accentuated her lithe frame. It contrasted magically with her dark skin and accented her lustrous mane of platinum hair. Gilles couldn’t help but forget his peril for just a second in the face of her beauty.
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“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Kitha.” The man addressed the dark skinned beauty gratefully.
“I consider it a privilege, lord Gray.” The woman beamed back.
“Listen, I-” Gilles began to launch into an explanation to save his own skin, ready to lie and bluff his way to escape. The words died on his lips, as the angelic voice of the woman spoke a word.
“Silence.” She raised a finger, and Gilles was compelled to obey by a magic power that far exceeded his own.
“It was a long road from the northern villages to Tarishan.” The one called lord Gray said. “I did alot of talking, even more listening, and I kept hearing the same story.” He took a breath and licked his lips, clearly suppressing anger.
“A man of the Golden Legion passes through a village. Exactly two days later several children contract a fatal illness. The victims are always boys between nine and twelve years old, typically with dark hair and of the wolf variety of beast kin. Soon after the same man returns, and offers gold, food, and water in exchange for the sick child. The parents are given a choice: watch their child die, or let the Golden Legion take him in and be used for the greater good of his homeland? He will be pampered. His last days will be spent in a luxury few beast kin will ever experience. He will die a hero, and be blessed with a blissful afterlife. Everyone cheers. Long live the Golden Legion. But I have a few concerns.” He stopped and stared coldly into Gilles’ eyes. “Why is a disease picky like a hot girl in a small town? Why does it only show up with you? For every one ‘miracle’, there are ten missing boys. The math ain’t mathing, so I’ve invited you here to help me figure it out. Kitha is going to ask you a few questions now.”
“You are permitted to say yes or no.” Kitha informed Gilles as she pulled a chair over and sat directly in front of him. “Are you responsible for the malady known as White Cough? Answer.”
“Of course not! This is absurd! Release me!” Gilles was certain that he said all of that, and yet the only sound that could be heard in that room was his own voice mechanically saying “Yes”.
“Are you targeting young boys for any specific reason? Answer.”
“Yes.” Gilles felt his mind being intimately violated, as another confession was ripped from him by force.
“Are the excess children you have taken still alive? Answer.”
No response. Gilles did not know what happened to the boys after they were delivered. He never wanted to know.
“You are now permitted to respond freely but only with the truth to the best of your knowledge.” Kitha’s eyes were exceptionally cold as she spoke. “Do you understand? Answer.”
“I understand.” More words yanked from him as his mind railed against her magic.
“Where were the children not selected as sacrifices taken? Answer.” Kitha’s voice was growing colder with every response.
“To the House of Dreams, my brother’s compound east of Tarishan.” The one secret that Gilles would have gladly taken to his grave slid from his lips so very casually. Terror clenched his stomach at what he had just done. His heart rate climbed and he felt Kitha’s magic waver.
“Who is your brother!? ANSWER!” She hammered her power down on him with redoubled fury, nearly breaking his mind.
“YUTHER!” Gilles wailed and with that word he collapsed into blackness.
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I watched the sweaty, gold robed creep collapse. A lump of disgust and rage had been slowly growing like a ball of twine in my belly over the past three weeks spent traveling from village to village. A picture was slowly coming into focus that I didn’t want to believe. The people of Rakashi were paying a very vile price for their new found prosperity.
“What will you do, lord Gray?” Kitha broke the silence after a moment, dabbing the sweat from her brow with a beautiful dwarf made kerchief.
“What I do best.” I said back, though I could muster little enthusiasm. I dreaded what I might find before reaching the bottom of this shit pile. “Tabula.”
“Lord Gray.” The woman appeared instantly as though she expected the call.
“We’ll need to prepare accommodations for some new guests.” I glared down at the unconscious mage at my feet. “On the Numberless Floor.”