Inspired by the popular game, the adventure continues as the mighty force of change rages across the Atlantean Empire-and exiles mount a sinister campaign of their own. . . .MAGE KNIGHT: DARK DEBTS
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December 31, 2002
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Excerpt from Mage Knight 2: Dark Debts by Doranna Durgin
The dank odor of damp stone and old straw filled the room, familiar and stinging. Like all of Necropolis, this room held the stink of untold years of death magic, of power bought by the suffering of innocent and tortured souls, of blood spilled, life debased, and foul treachery revered and rewarded.
Kerraii stared impassively at the sorry collection of Elves and humans before her; they stared back with no apparent understanding of her control over their fates.
This lower room was one of many carved out of the rocky island that held Necropolis. It resided in Sarnen's tower, a building identical to the eleven others ringing the more impressive Prophet's tower. Twelve towers for the Deathspeaker Orders and another for the Dark Prophet, the bone avatar that contained the essence of the Grand Magus Tezla, father of them all. Thirteen towers, connected by complex tunnels--some of them public and some of them most decidedly not. Above ground, sky bridges connected the twelve Order buildings to one another and to the other major buildings of Necropolis; the rest of the city was a vast maze of edifices, streets, and secretive, walled courtyards that stank of blood and corruption. But here in the lower levels of Sarnen's Order, Kerraii faced this tightly packed chamber of used up slaves and contemplated their fate.
It was a fate already decided. These slaves were old, or simply too weak to be of any further use. From child to elder, they no longer served her Lord Sarnen as they should. And they offended her nose with their rank fear and unwashed bodies.
Not for much longer.
Those still showing a spark of intelligence and life regarded her with wary understanding. They knew what she was--a Nightblade, blooded and trained and battle proven, bearing blade and specialized strap harness, her sleek black hair pulled back into a tight, stern ponytail that merely served to emphasize her stunning, refined Elvish features. Nightblades. Assassins. The ultimate in cold death and beauty combined. If the Nightblade style also provided a subtle visual reminder of the stern and unquestioning loyalty expected of her and her sister Nightblades, such thoughts remained unspoken among those who served Sarnen.
As Kerraii served him. Kerraii, Deathspeaker Sarnen's own. His mistress, his most trusted Nightblade, an ex-Wylden Elf who'd moved on to new ways.