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Author: Vorean
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Chapter 1
Vorean walked down the hallway of the inn in Longshadow Alley, down the stairs and past the diners at common room. He heard the whispers, he ignored the chuckles. The patrons here knew him. Some were afraid of him, many thought he was destined to one day relent to Lucan and Freeport. It was the only way things could be. Who was he to think that things could be different? Vorean ignored them. He had long ago stopped talking to them and to most people in the Freeport villages. He knew where he was going, that was all that mattered.
As he walked the streets to Big Bend, the village of the Ogres and Trolls, he contemplated where he had laid his allegiance. For now that allegiance lay with Urschrei, The Matron Mother and leader of the small band known as Sacrifice.
Once in Big Bend, the whispers and chuckles struck up again. Vorean ignored them and continued his thoughts. He remembered the stories and unlike almost all in Freeport was going to do something about them.
The stories had been repeated for ages. Stories of Vorean of the Past, the last of the family to live in their beloved Neriak. The last of the necromancers that knew the true power of the dark elves of their family. So long had the stories been told that even the true family name of Vorean of the Past had forever been lost. It was said that Vorean of the Past, had a troll slave. Now Vorean of the shattered lands was said to be slave to Urschrei, the Matron Mother.
In truth the deal was simple enough. Vorean was the Mothers Hand, the man who used his arts in her service. He would return to Neriak, the land he had never seen. The land that had been passed to him only by word of mouth and hazy pictures in an old woman’s water bowl. No one living had ever seen his beloved homeland.
So for now he bided the time. He was the Mothers Hand; all who dealt with The Matron Mother feared him. He was the power behind the power, where Urschrei would kill her enemies swiftly and brutally, he would hear them scream, tell secrets they didn’t know they knew and eventually they would be his slaves. For in their death he held the greatest power over them. He was, after all a Necromancer.
In truth at this time they were nothing in the overall scheme of things in Freeport. Neither was truly all that powerful in their chosen road, but they had one thing few in Freeport had, a dream. They new their limits and consistently worked to improve their skills. In truth they had nothing to loose. Urschrei wanted the ogres to rule the world, to fulfill their ancient destiny, Vorean wanted to see Neriak. Together they had started this ragged band. Sacrifice was their life, their destiny and their dream. They would one day see their dream.
His contemplations were interrupted as a Ratonga slipped from nowhere to walk in step beside Vorean. “Is it done?” he asked.
“Yes, Hand, it is done” replied the Ratonga.
“And the Book?” Vorean asked.
“I have it” the Ratonga said as he smiled slyly up to the Dark Elf.
The Ratonga was Fogg, the Mothers Night. He was a scout of the highest quality. He too thought differently then most in Freeport. However, even the Mothers Hand had no real idea of what it was he was after, he even doubted that the Matron Mother herself new. His loyalty though to Sacrifice and the Mother was unquestioned.
Together they strode in silence to the room Urschrei had at the Inn in Big Bend, each entwined in their own thoughts.
Urschei’s room was a mixture of throne room and cave dwelling. Huge furs covered the floor and most of the walls. A dark cloth hung at one end of the room hiding the bed and personal belongings of the Matron Mother. The rest of the room consisted of a huge wooden throne set on a wooden platform, behind which hung an incredibly beautiful tapestry of Ancient Grobb. A large wooden table that could seat six ogres comfortably, weapons and armor rack filled the rest of the room.
As they entered the room, they found Urschrei at the table with papers spread out before her. Two candles burned on the table and a platter with a half eaten haunch of a pig sat of to the side of the table. She looked up from the papers and grinned at the two visitors.
“What news this day Hand and Fogg?” She asked in her booming voice.
Vorean bowed his head slightly and replied. “It seems all went well last night. Fogg tells me that the book I sought has been recovered.” He held out his hand in front of the Ratonga and the rat-man placed the rather large book in his hands. Where he had it hidden no one could say.
“What are you pouring over Mother” asked Fogg.
“These seem to be rather accurate maps of the passages under the city of Freeport. If I am reading these correctly we should be able to let Fogg here move in and out of the city without ever being seen.” Replied the Matron Mother.
“I am never seen when I don’t want to be.” Replied the rat-man as he hopped first to a chair and then onto the table where he proceeded to get down on all fours and study the maps for himself.
Urschrei stretched and groaned at the Ratonga, then looked again at Vorean. “What is that book?” she asked.
“I am about to discover that, Mother.” Replied Vorean, as he crossed to the opposite end of the table, laid the book down and pulled up a chair in front of it.
“Where did it come from?” The Matron Mother asked.
“As it happens I was in the harbor yesterday when a shipment of books arrived for a wealthy gnome. As I understand it they are ancient tomes that might shed light on the some of the problems the creators in Temple Street are encountering. Anyway, as he was inspecting the books I noticed one with Teir’Dal writing on the cover. I politely asked to purchase it from him since he could neither read it nor would there be solutions to their problems in it. “
“And as it happens he refused. Now he is in no condition to refuse and we should have the cooperation of his resources should we ever need them, correct Fogg?” He looked inquiringly at the Ratonga on the table.
“That right Hand, they be very cooperative from now on.” The rat-man grinned an evil looking grin that made them all smile and chuckle.
Fogg turned to the Matron Mother and said “There is much here I cannot verify off hand, but the parts here” he pointed at the corner of the map he was hanging over “is exactly the way I remember the tunnels under Temple Street. This should make my jobs much easier in the future and maybe we can even send others to do some things for us now that we might be able to trust them to not be seen.” He scratched his chin as he always did when his mind was scheming to create the wealth they needed to further their plans.
Vorean touched the book gently, wondering how old it really was. He could read very little of the ancient Teir’Dal writings. But the picture on the cover made, at least, some of the significance of the books come to his mind. It was the symbol of the Necromancer’s art. He opened the cover carefully and saw what he had been both afraid of and hoping for. The whole text was in Teir’Dal. He could do little with this today. He would have to find a way to learn this ancient writing and find what the book truly had to teach him.
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