Naktos' Tale Snicker entered the main lobby of Academy Arcanus. He felt a need for adventure, and hoped Marcus would have some task for him to complete. He had not been idle since the town of Leinster had felt the full force of Duach’s wrath, but most of the time had been spent helping to rebuild. Snicker didn’t mind hard work, but wanted to exchange a hammer for a long sword once more, to do the "work" he’d been trained for. Marcus shook his head when he saw Snicker enter. "If you’re looking for work, I’m afraid you’re out of luck. Maybe next week some of the grand masters might have something for you to do." Snicker hid his disappointment. "Very well. I shall return next week then." Turning to leave, Snicker noticed an old man sitting at one of the reading tables within the lobby. Large bookshelves lined the walls, each full of books on the arcane arts. The old man smiled at the short warrior and motioned for him to join him at the table. Having nothing better to do, he did as he was bidden. "So it’s adventure you’re after is it, lad?" The old man’s voice was strong and firm. "I’m looking for work, is all. Do you know of any who have need of a warrior?" "Work? Ha! It’s the adventure you’re interested in, I can see it in your eyes, and the way you swagger about with that over sized sticker you call a long sword. Well, maybe I have just the thing for you. It involves danger, but I can see that isn’t a problem for the likes of you." Snicker was intrigued despite the insulting tone in the man’s words. "Go on then, old man. Tell me of this adventure you speak of." The old man cackled softly to himself, before pointing to one of several scrolls which were pinned to a nearby wall. "Take a look at that list of graduates, lad. Tell me what you see." Snicker stood up and examined the list of names. A few of them he was familiar with, but none of them stood out...except for one name. It was hard to read because it had been crossed out. "Who is this Naktos?" The old man cackled again. "It’s not a name that is held in high regard around here. Marcus there has no love for the name certainly." Marcus looked over at them briefly, a scowl on his face, but offered no comment. "Hehe...it was Marcus who recommended Naktos be admitted into the academy. Showed real promise too. Could have been a fine wizard if he wasn’t so darn morbid." Snicker was interested, despite himself. "What happened to him?" "Well, lad, that’s what I’m about to tell you, if you’ll stop interrupting." Snicker blushed slightly, and waited silently for the old man to continue . "Now Naktos as I said, was a very promising student. Magic seemed to be a part of his being from the day he was born. Mastered most of the things taught to him in half the time it would take the average student. But it was to the dark arts that he was really drawn. Necromancy it’s called. Most wizards know enough to get by, but Naktos was interested in more than just learning acid sphere or poison bolt. He turned his mind to the summoning of creatures from beyond the grave. Not very palatable, but it had its uses. In fact his discoveries in this field have advanced the art of necromancy a long way. The brightest minds at the academy have taken his research further than he would have ever imagined, and it’s actively taught here now." "I take it his activities were frowned upon," Snicker said. "In a way lad. You see it was never the magic itself that was the problem. It was the man’s attitude. He had no morals, and no scruples. Even evil magic can be useful if used sparingly, and with some conscience. But to Naktos all that mattered was learning all that he could about death, and how he could breathe life into that which had none of it’s own. Many times he’d be reprimanded severely for summoning within the grounds of the academy itself. But he barely noticed the reprimands. He was too focused on the results of his work. This continued for some time, until one day he went too far. Somehow, and I doubt even he knew how he did it, he managed to summon a daemon itself within these walls. Well, this daemon was the spawn of Duach itself, and it took all of our efforts to defeat the creature. When it had finally been beaten, three of our order were dead." Snicker listened horrified to the old man’s tale, and silently offered a prayer to Enid. "As you can imagine, he was no longer welcome in the Academy. Many thought he should be put to death for his actions, but many believed, including myself, that he had no real evil in him. So instead he was thrown out of our order, and his name was stricken from all the lists. Except for that scroll, there is no more mention of him." "Where did he go then, after being thrown out?" The old man gave Snicker a stern glance, causing him to blush again. He remained silent a moment before continuing. "Where he went exactly, I do not know. Wandered all around the realm I’d imagine, practising his arts. He was never concerned about anything but his research, and leaving the academy was a minor inconvenience. Where he ended up though is what’s important. It seems he’d been spending his time in the Wild Beyond. Practising his arts against the imps that inhabited the area. One day he took on more than he could handle it seems, and a group of Imp Thaumaturgists almost killed him. The battle was a long and painful one, but in the end he managed to summon enough undead helpers to defeat them all. But he was sorely wounded. He’d spent so much time on the dark arts, he’d forgotten much of the healing magics that would have served him well at that time. Wounded, and barely conscious, he was attacked by a plague ratling. He dispatched the creature easily, but not before it had bitten him, and injected a lethal poison into him." "So he died then? Killed by a ratling?" "Yes and no lad. He managed to stay conscious for a short while. Long enough to stumble upon a temple hidden within the woods of the Wild Beyond. Within that temple he found a statue and fell to the ground before it. I doubt he really knew where he was, or whose temple it was. But he could sense the presence of a god within it. So he did what everyone in need does at a temple. He prayed. Prayed with his last breath he did." "So he DID die then!" "Yes. But his prayers had not gone unanswered. The temple he’d stumbled across was in fact one dedicated to Duach himself! Oh, the irony of that amuses me still. He was never an evil person as I said, but he created more evil with his research than any other wizard to study the black arts. It was fitting then, that it was to Duach that he prayed with his dying breath. And Duach heard his pleas." The old wizard laughed softly to himself. "Sometimes you have to be careful what you wish for, lad. That’s something you’d do well to remember. All Naktos wanted was to live so that he could continue his work. And Duach granted him that life. When Naktos awoke he found himself whole and well. Or so he thought. It wasn’t long before he noticed that he no longer needed to draw breath. It seemed Duach had played the cruelest, and yet most fitting joke on him. By granting his wish, he’d made Naktos one of the very creatures he studied!" Snicker almost shared the old man’s amusement, but was too entranced by the tale to interrupt again. "At first he didn’t seem to mind his undead condition. He no longer needed to eat or drink. Lack of sleep no longer affected his thinking. He could continue his research unhindered now. But before long he found his body deteriorating, and his interest in the black arts began to wane. It seemed he had finally realised just how horrific his situation was, and he longed to become once more that which he once was. For many days he prayed at Duach’s temple for the god to undo what he had done. But it seemed his prayers fell on deaf ears." Snicker shook his head sadly. "He deserves his fate, I’d say." The old man chuckled. "I dare say he did, but he at least didn’t think so. So he turned once more to his research. But this time he no longer did it solely for the purposes of learning. Instead he spent his time trying to uncover the secrets of life itself, so that he might live once more. Needing some stability for his work, he claimed a small network of caves as his own, and spent all of his time down there. Any foolish enough to enter the caves were usually captured or killed by Naktos and his undead minions. Those who managed to escape his clutches have named it the "Morgue", and tell tales of horrible experiments they’ve witnessed down there. It seems he’s so obsessed with his quest to learn the secrets of life itself, he doesn’t care how many lives he takes in the process." Sensing that the old man was almost finished his tale, Snicker interrupted. "That was a compelling tale, old man, but what does this have to do with me and the adventure you spoke of?" The old man cackled and shook a finger at him. "That IS the adventure I spoke of, lad. If you leave Leinster through the gate to the south and head into South Havenwood, you will find the entrance to the Morgue. If it’s adventure you want, there’s plenty to be found down there. If you’re not afraid of the living dead..." Page 1 of 1   Thank you for reading Naktos' Tale. If you enjoyed this story, or even if you didn't, please feel free to send me your comments.   Return to Index   This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page