The party of adventurers had just recently met the Magical arms trader known as Veraccus, but his name was permanently etched into Korel’s mind as a man to know. The short demon seemed to have access to some type of extradimensional space that allowed him the ability to alter time at will. An ability such as this is very powerful, and in the hands of a crafter of magical items, as was Veraccus’ trade, it allowed nearly infinite versatility. For the first time in his ascension in power, Korel wished he had taken the time to learn that aspect of the arcane craft.
Veraccus had spoken to each member in the party in turn. For Hasam, he had taken his enchanted falchion and encrusted it with jewels and carved runes of immense magical properties. The cost of this greater enhancement was high, but Hasam had been blessed with the wealth of kings.
For Gaylen, Veraccus had taken gold and other magical items from our treasure hoard and returned back with a small amulet that made the cleric radiate with power. “Damn,” thought Korel, “now when the time came, he was going to be even more difficult to deal with. But for the days ahead, it could very well save all our lives.”
Veraccus then turned to Demarra, but she was unable to ask for anything of value. Apparently stunned by his ability to manufacture these items at the blink of an eye, she was at a loss of what to ask for. Demarra turned to Korel and asked his advice. The Mage’s first instincts were to find something that might curse her, something that he could use to his advantage, but recently the rogue and the mage had come to an understanding. And after speaking to her about possible enterprises for the future, Korel chose not to betray her trust at this moment. He instead offered her advice about an item he had heard of that would allow the user better manual dexterity. It was possible that such an item may help her utilize her bow more effectively, a weapon that only those with great physical maneuverability are able to master. Veraccus inspected the wares remaining on the table and inquired about an amulet. The amulet that he inquired about had foiled the identification process that had been attempted upon it. That made it an unknown, and sometimes that can be very dangerious.
Hasam chose not to part with it, though it was apparent that Veraccus desired the amulet greatly. In the end, Demarra was presented with a pair of glistening white gloves, which immediately showed their enhancement powers to her.
Then Veraccus turned his attention on Korel. The seasoned mage had not been wasting this time while the others had been dealing with the demon; instead he had been weighing everything in turn to determine just what kind of a value this outsider placed on the things he was being offered. Korel turned to the demon and, not for the first time, wished he had Hasam’s powers of persuasion. Instead, the wealth of Korel’s treasure was going to have to be sufficient.
Before asking for what it was that he wanted, Korel chose to show the Demon the wealth that was being offered to him. Rubies, sapphires, amber, diamond, crystals and stamped gold ingots from all over the world spilled to the table before the Demon, who looked only mildly impressed. Then, the mage began pulling out and naming trinkets that he had been hoarding through the few long years that he had traveled in his lifetime. “Chimes, that when struck will deafen all those around you.” Korel explained as he set down the rune encrusted hollow tubes. “Multiple sets of magical armor, an enchanted longsword, cloaks that will prevent harm to those who wear them, and finally,” said the mage as he looked down at his right ring finger, “one of my most valued possessions.” Slowly he cast a magical interruption spell, being very careful that the spell would only consume the magic he chose to remove. Then, with a violent thrust, a band of skin the size of a ring band sizzled and peeled revealing something encrusted in blood underneath. Lodged to the bone of his right ring finger lay a revealed magical ring. Painfully, Korel removed the ring from its resting spot dragging the hot metal over his blistering ruined flesh. “This, Veraccus, is something that I obtained at nearly the cost of my life from a king long since dead in a tomb buried in water. To add to my treasure you see before you, I include a ring that will protect you from the greater elements: namely lightening; a mage’s most powerful weapon.”
Korel studied Veraccus to see if he could gauge his reaction to this show of sacrifice. To the mage’s infinite pleasure, the demon seemed pleased. “Now, what I ask you for in return for these things you see before you is rare, but can be found easily by someone of your talents. I need two things: a magical scroll of a spell called Hide Life, and my powers of knowledge to be increased by enchanting further my golden circlet.”
Korel knew that the wealth he put before the demon was far more than the cost of the items he desired. But he would have paid double what lay before the demon, gladly, if it meant that he could have what he desired. The demon carefully inspected each item that lay before him, obviously wary that magic could be used to duplicate these relics before him. After every item had been carefully investigated, the demon nodded in acquiescence. Apparently pleased with the deal, the Demon removed the golden circlet from Korel’s head and gathered up the hoard of magical and monetary treasures before him, and entered into his closet as he had done three times before on this day.
Even though the time spent with the closet door was only a matter of moments, it seemed an eternity to the mage who had just offered up every gem and gold piece that he had ever saved, cheated others out of, robbed merchants, and examined fallen foes over. How easy it would be to take his treasure and simply purchase a small keep on the countryside. There was enough there to afford to hire out the current owner of the keep to wipe your boots. Korel swore under his breath as the moments crept along. How long was he going to take behind that door? The insecurity of his possible folly ate away at the mage. So simple to take the money and disappear. The hoard that he had offered before the demon had been nearly double what the others had given, but what Korel asked for in return was nearly double the cost. Another moment passed as the mage waited for treachery to unfold, and finally the door opened. The demon walked up to the mage with his eyes alight in mirth. Held before him was a gold and jewel encrusted circlet, and a heavy vellum scroll.
******
It had been hours since they had left the site of Veraccus’ shop and found a secure Inn to stay the night. Korel looked at the door leading into the room they had purchased for the night. The doorway was limiting, the lock was poorly crafted and the hinges were facing out into the hallway. They could have hung a leather flap on the frame for all the security this door was going to offer them. But it mattered very little. Korel spoke a carefully practiced incantation and the doorway blazoned with white-hot energies that slowly settled and sunk into the wood framework. Through the doorway, was now a semi-transparent doorknob with a ghostly looking knocker. Behind him, his party members waited impatiently. How quickly they forget that only months ago they had been forced to sleep on cold soil, hard rock or worse. How quickly they took for granted the comforts that the arcane order gave them. Clean clothes with no sign of patches, warm comfortable beds to sleep in, and warm delicious food to eat. Even when in the worst of conditions outside, inside this mansion they would be safe.
With a wave of his hand, Korel dismissed the angry thoughts of his party’s insufferable nature to take all things for granted, and entered into the magnificent mansion that awaited him. No trace of the dust covered, ill swept inn room could be seen through the extradimensional space that Korel had created. Instead, looming above them was a massive staircase and a finely decorated foyer. Twelve servants, all wearing traditional styled uniforms greeted them as they entered the mansion. Their echo of willingness to serve was a welcomed sound.
Korel turned towards Gaylen and offered the cleric a rare smile bereft of malevolence. “Tonight was fortunate indeed. The things that I acquired from the demon Veraccus will take me some time to implement, as I have no doubt yours will as well. But if I may ask a small favor, I wish your help in preparing the implements that I will require for my ritual this evening.” Korel turned to his other companions, “I will be indisposed for the remainder of this evening, and all of the day tomorrow. My spell will continue this mirage of luxury long enough for me to complete what I need done. Unfortunately, you will not be permitted to leave during that time. Please feel free to stroll through this place, and make yourselves comfortable. I will rejoin you as soon as I can.” Korel looked to Gaylen and saw that some part of what he had said, or perhaps what he didn’t say, had intrigued the cleric. “Gaylen, will you help me in this?” The cleric nodded and the two disappeared down the hall toward the master bedroom.
*****
It had been hours since Korel first started the ritual. Sweat soaked his brow, and dripped down his sides adding no comfort to what he was preparing to do. The circle had been drawn: crushed gems, sand and bone had been used to create a gritty, but unbroken circle around the various candles and implements surrounding the mage and his work. Legs crossed in front of him, Korel continued chanting the ritual described on the scroll he had purchased from Veraccus. Some concepts he was dealing with were alien to the Mage, but he knew that this spell was above his abilities to cast on his own. There was a risk in trying to wield magic greater than your own, but Korel continued, regardless of the possible repercussions.
Carefully, he grasped the silver blade in his right hand. It had taken Gaylen nearly an hour to melt and mold the silver implement now in the mage’s hand. Korel had thanked Gaylen when the tiny scythe had been completed, and quickly ushered him out the door. Thankfully the priest had not questioned Korel too thoroughly about what he was doing. If Gaylen found out that he had participated in casting one of the most powerful necromantic rituals in the world, there was no telling just what his reaction would have been. Korel was grateful that no questions had been asked. Shortly after Gaylen had left, Korel locked the door and began the ritual in solitude. It had taken hours to grind the materials for the circle, and more time to construct the ornate box, which was to house his soon-to-be most prized possession.
Reverently Korel held the small silver scythe in his hand and began applying pressure to the base of his pinky finger of his left hand. Small droplets of blood dripped into the bowl carefully placed below his hand, and where every drop hit, small flames would erupt raising even higher the unnatural temperature of this room. Feeling feverish, Korel wavered slightly as the first of his blood was spent, but there was no time for that now. He steeled himself against the pain and dizziness to read the activation key of the scroll before him. Slight gusts of wind appeared from nowhere chilling his sweat-covered body and causing the candles to flicker and turn a sickly green color. The smoke caused from his blood, mixing with the herbs and components in the bowl below, began to emanate a thick brown smoke that clung to the inside of his nostrils and caused his vision to blur.
Slowly, with measured care, he applied more pressure to the skin surrounding his finger. Blood spurted from a blood vessel that had been severed causing more fire in the bowl below, and the smoke in the room to burn away from the intense heat being generated. All the while, Korel continued chanting the activation key of the scroll, raising his voice above the wind and fire.
Then it started.
A creeping feeling that numbed his body’s extremities and causing his pinky finger to glow white. He continued to cut away at his finger using the inferior silver scythe to slice through muscles and tendons as blood spurted out from the wound.
The feeling of numbness spread faster throughout his body as if his life force was being drawn to the pinky finger, which had grown nearly as bright as a torch. Korel felt the pain of the experience, but he tried his best to detach himself from the sensation as he continued to labor on the strange wording of the scroll in front of him, sweat dripping from his exertions.
The winds swirling in the room picked up the smoke from the fires and intensified it. In any other circumstances, the candles would have long since been blown out, but they continued to glow with a sickly green that illuminated the entire room. Korel was shouting now, trying to be heard above the ruckus of furniture being overturned, the wind whipping his hair in front of his face making it hard to see.
As Korel continued cutting on his finger, he felt the bone beneath the skin begin to grate against the silver scythe. The numbing feeling spread faster now, sweeping through is body, storing everything except the numbness inside the pinky finger. The pain that Korel had been avoiding lanced up his arm and began to burn his mind. His entire body was numb except for the gruesomely bloody finger that now glowed brighter than the candles surrounding him. For a futile moment, Korel sawed away at the bone of his own finger, trying to cut off the burning sensation, but was unable to use this tiny instrument for such a purpose. The pain was so intense now that Korel was having difficulty breathing through the wind and smoke.
Shouting out the final command key of the ritual, Korel dropped the tiny scythe to the floor, grabbed hold of his left pinky finger in his right hand and twisted it back towards his wrist in one powerfully painful gesture. With a sickening pop, the finger came off at the joint and glowed brightly in the triumphant mage’s open hand. The wind stopped instantly, and the candles blew themselves out. The room became quiet and dark.
Even though the finger was no longer attached, Korel could still feel it, as if it were an extension of himself. The mage smiled, but turned quickly back to the scroll detailing this ritual. There were still many hours ahead of him where he would need to bind the power to his lost finger to keep it from harm, and relearn how to cast his magic while keeping his life force secreted away from his body. No, there would be time to celebrate later.
In the quiet dust filled room, Korel continued the ritual that would bind his life energy to his now severed finger. And as long as the finger remained intact, the mage could not be killed. “I’ve taken my first step toward immortality.” Smiled the mage, “God help you all.”