Bloodwalk

"I'm not like you," she whispered, gritting her teeth and boiling with sudden emotion and rage-filled passion. "I will walk my own path, even if it is paved in my own blood!" She strode toward the battle, casting a spell and choosing a victim. The faces of the Sedras were indistinct and unimportant. She had little memory of the tribe, having purged names and events from her past to make room for more important knowledge. Flames flew from her fingertips, carving a smoking path through several warriors. The Weave wound itself about her body, a cloak that she pulled apart one thread at a time. Time ceased and she lost herself in the fight. The battle did not favor the Gargauthans.

Many fled, ru

The words of a spell flew across her tongue with a taste of ozone that left her body tingling. Her hands blazed with blue light and crackled with lightning. She stared down her mother but found only rage mixed with sorrow in Kaeless's eyes. Mere yards separated them. A column of fire exploded nearby as a Gargauthan ended his life on the blade of a thrown spear, casting fiery magic blindly with his last breath. The force knocked Morgy

She shook her head to clear the haze of pain, but the world spun before her eyes. Dimly she saw Kaeless regain her footing and lift the bright mace. Acting on reflex, Morgy

Morgy

The smile did not last long, shadowed by the torment of old dreams.

Her stomach rumbled with much dreaded hunger. She had loathed food for years, only playing at its enjoyment while dining with powerful contacts and would-be suitors. Almost all sustenance tasted like ash and dirt in her mouth, save for strong elf wine and dwarven spirits-drinks she tended to consume in large quantities when available. She turned her head to stare at her pack containing dried meat and fresh water. Bile rose in her throat at the thought of eating, which helped to quell the pangs in her stomach. There would be time enough for eating later, she thought. Waving her hand, the Theskan tome slammed shut and flew to the floor. Lifting another from beneath the divan, she caressed its red leather cover lovingly, carefully setting it upon the footstool in front of her. A haze of power surrounded the book like a web of thickened air, a threatening mirage of wards. "Suth vas bethed," she whispered and ran a finger down its spine, disarming her seal upon its secrets. This was the only book remaining from Goorgian's arcane library. Only half completed when she'd found it, now her own handwriting filled the remainder of its pages. Rumors hinted that several more tomes existed, stolen by looters and brave souls seeking quick profits. She had traced many of them to the possession of the Durthan witches of Erech Forest, just east of Goorgian's fallen stronghold in Narfell, but for now, the one would do. She found the old wizard-priest to be insightful and imaginative, but his ideas were sometimes full of a madness born of his extended contact with creatures from the Lower Planes. Having traveled so long with the Gargauthans, Morgy

Memorized spells merely filled the minds of other wizards, burning themselves in memory. For Morgy