Honor and Blood

"You are not here to bargain or threaten, Doomwalker," Kravon said. "Your mission remains before you. You have not completed it."

"Jegojah, he does not carry out the impossible, no. Be your maid, Jegojah would, before taking on the Weavespi

"This time, you don't have to worry about his power," Kravon said smoothly. "He has lost his magical powers for a time, and it is imperative you reach him and destroy him before he regains them."

"More to that one, there is, than magic," Jegojah grated. "A fine warrior, he is, a warrior of honor. Jegojah can fight, but the outcome, it is not certain, no."

"You are a Doomwalker," Kravon said coldly. "No mortal can defeat you."

"The Weavespi

"True. I will accede that much to you. That is why, this time, you will have help."

"Help?" Jegojah spat, then he cackled in laughter. "What help could ye grant Jegojah?"

Kravon looked to the door. The silent guard there opened it, and two mailed sentries escorted a third form through the door. It was a form in black, burned armor, carrying a large sword in a withered hand. The head of the figure was withered, decayed, with bone and gray flesh showing through the cracked skin, flesh infested with maggots, deteriorated long past the point of being recognizable. The eyes were long gone, replaced by twin points of red light.

It was another Doomwalker.

Jegojah looked closely at this new Doomwalker, looked very closely. The armor was familiar to it, it was a pattern and design it had seen before. There was a rent in the breastplate, ru

And beneath a wide burgonet helmet, there sprouted stray locks of curly black hair.

"No right!" Jegojah exploded. "No right, ye have, to disturb the rest of the fallen! Return him, ye will, return him to his rest right now!"

"You have no say in this," Kravon said in a dead voice. "Complete your mission, and both of you will be freed to rest for eternity. Refuse to obey me, and you will spend that eternity in the possession of my lovely associate here," he said, motioning towards the six-armed Demon. "I'm sure you know what her kind do with the souls of mortals. Is that fate what you desire?"

If there was anything that the inhuman Wizard could have said to intimidate a Doomwalker, that was it. There were some fates worse than death, worse that utter destruction. "That fate, no, Jegojah does not want it," it said in sudden supplication. "Jegojah will do as ye command. But when this is done, freedom, it will be granted, yes. One way or another."

"Then begone, and carry out your assigned tasks," Kravon said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"As ye command," Jegojah said sullenly. "Come, companion. A long way, we must go, yes. Let us get this overwith."

With that, both undead forms simply sank into the floor, merging into the stone, and were gone.

The whole thing was pleasing to Kravon. Jegojah should be able to carry it out alone, but with the other Doomwalker to aid it, this time victory was guaranteed.

It was worth the effort to find and retrieve that body. Months of searching paid off. When the Were-cat recognized the identity of the Doomwalker, the shock would be enough to give one of them the chance to finish it off.

You interest me, human, the Marilith, who called herself Shaz'beka, remarked. She did not speak, exclusively using the telepathic gifts common to her kind to communicate. You would give me the soul of the Doomwalker if he fails?

"My dear, consider his soul yours, whether he succeeds or not," Kravon said absently. "Given his failures and poor attitude, I feel your tender ministration is suitable punishment for his disobedient nature."

And the other?

"Also yours, to do with what you will," he said, holding out a new soul-trap, a crystal that glowed with a golden radiance. "But I can't give them to you until their mission is accomplished. I do hope you understand."

You are most generous, human. I find my service here to be less tedious.

"Anything for a fellow follower of the Master, my dear," he said magnaminously.

Indeed.

"We are finished here," Kravon a

And with that, the braziers were extinguished, and the room was evacuated. The doors were closed, and the room fell into darkness.

To: Title EoF

Chapter 10

"So. How did it go?"

Tarrin's response to that i

"Well, that's better than I expected," Sarraya chuckled, just before she wisely rose into the air and out of the Were-cat's reach.

The sandstorm that kept them pi

True to his word, he had left Sarraya around sunset and found himself a quiet place to sit and try to regain his power. And it was a disaster. He couldn't concentrate for very long, because every time he did feel himself begi

The outer distractions were one thing, but the single-most overwhelming source of aggravation for him was the Weave itself. It was right there. He could sense it. He could feel it. He could even see it. But no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find it. It was like fog, or smoke, looking solid from a distance but nothing more than ethereal vapors once it was within reach. The power melted away from him time after time, leaving him grasping nothing but empty air. It reminded him of his initial training, when he struggled under Dola