When Norman returned to the throne room, he paused in surprise. It had been transformed from the stark room it usually was into one that spoke of wealth and power. At least it looked that way to Norman.
New paintings lined the walls to replace what had existed before the Brotherhood attack. One depicted a scenic view of rolling hills with Ashvale and the castle in the background. The other massive painting depicted an army of black-suited knights storming a city while under siege, while a singular man in white armor stood on a distant hill throwing magic to intercept the enemy's attacks. Norman could only shake his head at the depiction of the battle.
But that wasn’t all. In the time Norman had left to get changed, someone had laid out a literal red carpet. Where the hell they had gotten it, Norman couldn’t say.
“Ahem,” Norman heard a polite cough and turned his head to see Stewart and Jacob flanking the throne. “I hope this was ok, Lord Norman. We were going to save the paintings and new rug as a gift for your coronation party but decided it would have more impact if we unveiled them early for your guest.”
“It’s amazing. Thank you…” Wait. Did he say coronation party?
Before Norman had a chance to ask, a Death Knight appeared in the hallway leading to the throne room. He tapped his spear twice on the ground before speaking. “Presenting, Donovan, Chairman of the Board of the Wizard Council of California.”
Norman hurried to sit on the throne before the Death Knight moved out of the hallway. He was followed by one more knight. Both took up positions on either side of the entry.
A middle-aged man wearing a suit and tie with greying hair at his temples appeared from the hallway next.
The man didn’t look like much, but Norman could see the calculating gaze in his eyes as he scanned the room. He continued down the carpet and paused halfway into the room to give Norman a shallow bow.
“Greetings, Lord Norman. I assume your people have told you why I have come?”
Norman was surprised he didn’t detect any hostility in the man’s words. There wasn’t even so much as a slip of his facial features to indicate the man was annoyed, upset, or even happy to be here. Just a blank emotionless face. It kind of gave Norman the creeps.
“They did. You wish to discuss your son's return. Along with some other things?”
“I did. I am also aware my son is currently dead. But with you being a necromancer, that shouldn’t be an issue. This may take some time to iron out. Do you have a place where we can discuss this?”
Before Norman could answer, two knights came in through the side door carrying a small round table and two chairs. A third knight entered with a stack of papers, quill, and ink. Eugene really was taking this meeting seriously if he was only allowing Death Knights into the room.
The man didn’t seem to care about the armed presence. Norman couldn’t quite get a read on the man. But he was curious as to what the guy was willing to offer. He gestured toward the table and stood up from the throne, taking the seat pulled out for him by Stewart. Donovan took the seat Jacob had pulled out for him. Not that there were any other options.
Donovan didn’t acknowledge or seem to recognize either of Norman’s assistants, which seemed weird. According to Stewart, they had met Donovan and worked with him on multiple occasions under Vincent’s direction.
“Thank you, Stewart, Jacob. That will be all for now. Please bring the food and refreshments when they are ready.”
They both bowed and replied in sync, “Yes, Lord Norman,” before leaving for the kitchen.
Norman turned back to Donovan. “I suppose we might as well get started.”
The man named Donovan nodded slightly. “I am prepared to offer reparations for my son’s return. While he was acting on what he thought was a threat, his actions were based on too many assumptions. Those actions were not condoned by the Council.”
“Let’s say I agree to your terms. What’s to stop him from trying it again?”
“The Council would censure him for his actions.”
“And what does this censure entail?” This question was the first that seemed to elicit any reaction from the man, and it looked like it made him uncomfortable.
“I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information.”
Norman shook his head, “Then I cannot resurrect your son and release him into your custody. Not without some assurance that he would no longer be a threat to me and my people.”
The man looked like he was about to make a counteroffer when Norman held his hand up. “How about this? I will hear out your reparations offer and if I find it acceptable, I will revive your son but only if he is under a blood oath.”
Donovan didn’t even hesitate. “That is an acceptable compromise.”
Norman didn’t care for how fast the man agreed to bind his son with a blood oath. Either he didn’t know what a blood oath was, which Norman found hard to believe, or they had a way to remove them. If it was the same way Norman figured out, they were in for a rude awakening.
From there Donovan went over what they were willing to offer. Which essentially boiled down to manufactured goods. It seems the man had a good idea of what Ashvale was lacking.
After a bit of back and forth, where Norman was able to acquire certain items Grobert had needed for his teleporters, he accepted the offer. Truth be told, he would have accepted pretty much any offer. Ever since he first captured Vincent, he knew it would be an issue. Keeping a soul trapped was not an easy process and the magical items were rough and untested for extended storage. There was also the issue of when Vincent’s father would show up, which happened much faster than Norman predicted. So he decided to eliminate two problems at the same time. It didn’t mean he was going to take this stone-faced man at his word though.
“Now that that bit is out of the way, you said you had other things to discuss?”
“I did. The Council would like to invite you to become a member.”
It took Norman a moment to process what the man had just said. “… You're joking right?”
“Not at all. With my son’s censure, his seat will be available. You obviously have enough necromantic knowledge to defeat someone as strong as Vincent. You are also… how do I put this, amenable to negotiations.”
“You mean I’m not a raging lunatic?”
Donovan gave a thin smile but otherwise didn’t reply.
The offer was interesting. But Norman had to decline. “I’m going to have to say no. While I respect what you are trying to do, I want to remain neutral. Also having to travel to California would take me away from my people for too long.”
“I see,” was all that Donovan said. “Well, that was all I had to discuss then.”
That was it? The man hadn’t even touched the drink or food that had been provided.
“Ok… I suppose I will go and resurrect your son.”
Donovan started to rise to join him, but Norman held out his hand. “I’m going to have to ask you to wait here.”
The man returned to his seat without complaint. Norman wanted to shake his head at the odd behavior but managed to stop himself. “If you need anything while I am gone, please ask one of the knights.”
He left Donovan at the table as he made his way to the safe. He retrieved the Soul Trap and a few other items to perform the ritual. After resecuring the safe, he tasked Jacob to fetch him a grazer.
Both of the assistants had tagged along as soon as Norman left the main room. But they were not allowed to enter the testing chamber so Stewart waited outside the thick stone door.
Norman quickly got busy drawing the spell circles. He added not one, not two, but three separate blood oaths to the spell. The first one would prevent Vincent from using any necromantic spell he hadn’t personally created. Norman didn’t want to take the man’s magic away, but he didn’t deserve to use spells that had been stolen from him.
The next blood oath prevented Vincent from taking any direct or indirect action against Normenia that would cause it problems. That covered retaliation for the most part.
And the last blood oath prevented Vincent from setting foot in his borders ever again once he left. It was the best Norman could do to ensure Vincent would remain a non-issue for as long as possible. He didn’t doubt that a group of powerful wizards would eventually figure out a way to remove the oaths. Hopefully, the two groups had a rapport by then and they would ensure Vincent didn’t cause any future problems.
There was a knock on the door and Eugene entered with an upset grazer. The animal kept trying to tug out of its leather restraints but wasn’t able to.
“I brought these as well,” Eugene stated, setting a pile of rough spun clothes on a nearby bench.
Norman chuckled at seeing the prisoner's garb. “A bit petty don’t you think?”
Eugene just shrugged. “It’s more than he deserves.”
“Fair enough.” Norman gestured toward one side of the spell. “Can you knock out the grazer and stick it inside the circle?”
Soon the room went quiet and Eugene hefted the easily thousand-pound beast into the circle with little effort.
Eugene stepped out of the spell and stood off to the side, seemingly ready for anything. Norman didn’t comment on his actions, thankful that the man took his job seriously. Norman powered the soul containment side and stuck his hands holding the soul trap inside. With a twist, the object cracked in two like an egg and a diaphanous vapor poured out. Norman pulled his hands back out along with the broken soul trap.
Soon a confused-looking specter appeared. The man looked at Norman and sneered.
“Congratulations, Vincent. Your father cared about you enough to negotiate your release.”
If anything, this news only made the man’s ghost frown. But he didn’t say anything and Norman finished powering the spell. There was an aborted scream as the man’s soul was sucked through the spell and into the central circle. The beast’s body was quickly disassembled by the spell as well and Norman watched as all the components came together to form a human body in the center.
He never got tired of seeing the magic in action.
As the spell was completed, Vincent stumbled to the floor. “There are clothes on the table over there. Once you are dressed, Eugene here will guide you to the throne room and your father. I suggest you not dally too long inside my borders or the blood oath may start to cause you some pain.”
With that, Norman left the room and went back to the throne room. Less than twenty minutes later, Eugene and a group of guards escorted the pair out of the city. All he had to show that Donovan would uphold his agreement was a signed sheet of paper, but that was fine. Even if they reneged on this deal, he got what he wanted. And it would let him know just what kind of people he was dealing with.
“Stewart?”
“Yes, Lord Norman?”
“Did you notice anything odd about our guest?”
The man paused to think about it. “I guess he seemed a bit unconcerned with the whole affair.”
“Thanks.” Well, at least it wasn’t just Norman that thought something was off about the man named Donovan.
***
Vincent and Donovan exited the front gates of the city alone. Vincent wanted to turn around and lay waste to this upstart, but even the thought of doing that brought him pain and he could feel a pressure pushing him to keep moving.
“How could you let him put a blood oath on me?” he demanded of his father once they were far enough away from the walls that nobody could overhear them.
His father remained quiet and kept walking. The man seemed even more emotionless and distant than usual. Knowing he would likely not get a response, Vincent kept quiet and scratched at the rough clothing he had been given. That along with being forced back into a living flesh and blood body made him feel out of sorts.
The two continued to walk in silence for a few more hours before his father came to an abrupt stop. “This should be outside the range of any spells.”
“What?” Vincent asked in confusion.
Donovan turned to him and shoved a knife into his heart. As Vincent gaped in surprise, the man that held the face of his father, morphed into one Vincent recognized. “Ixitil, you bastard. Why?”
“This will free you from the blood oaths, and your father will be waiting back home to summon you.” With those words, Ixitil pulled the blade free and was covered in a spray of blood. The man just stood there, uncaring as Vincent bled out.
Once Vincent had passed away, Ixitil took on the form of a predator and devoured the remains of the corpse. When his work was complete, he transformed into his raven form and flew away back to California and his master.
When Norman returned to the throne room, he paused in surprise. It had been transformed from the stark room it usually was into one that spoke of wealth and power. At least it looked that way to Norman.
New paintings lined the walls to replace what had existed before the Brotherhood attack. One depicted a scenic view of rolling hills with Ashvale and the castle in the background. The other massive painting depicted an army of black-suited knights storming a city while under siege, while a singular man in white armor stood on a distant hill throwing magic to intercept the enemy's attacks. Norman could only shake his head at the depiction of the battle.
But that wasn’t all. In the time Norman had left to get changed, someone had laid out a literal red carpet. Where the hell they had gotten it, Norman couldn’t say.
“Ahem,” Norman heard a polite cough and turned his head to see Stewart and Jacob flanking the throne. “I hope this was ok, Lord Norman. We were going to save the paintings and new rug as a gift for your coronation party but decided it would have more impact if we unveiled them early for your guest.”
“It’s amazing. Thank you…” Wait. Did he say coronation party?
Before Norman had a chance to ask, a Death Knight appeared in the hallway leading to the throne room. He tapped his spear twice on the ground before speaking. “Presenting, Donovan, Chairman of the Board of the Wizard Council of California.”
Norman hurried to sit on the throne before the Death Knight moved out of the hallway. He was followed by one more knight. Both took up positions on either side of the entry.
A middle-aged man wearing a suit and tie with greying hair at his temples appeared from the hallway next.
The man didn’t look like much, but Norman could see the calculating gaze in his eyes as he scanned the room. He continued down the carpet and paused halfway into the room to give Norman a shallow bow.
“Greetings, Lord Norman. I assume your people have told you why I have come?”
Norman was surprised he didn’t detect any hostility in the man’s words. There wasn’t even so much as a slip of his facial features to indicate the man was annoyed, upset, or even happy to be here. Just a blank emotionless face. It kind of gave Norman the creeps.
“They did. You wish to discuss your son's return. Along with some other things?”
“I did. I am also aware my son is currently dead. But with you being a necromancer, that shouldn’t be an issue. This may take some time to iron out. Do you have a place where we can discuss this?”
Before Norman could answer, two knights came in through the side door carrying a small round table and two chairs. A third knight entered with a stack of papers, quill, and ink. Eugene really was taking this meeting seriously if he was only allowing Death Knights into the room.
The man didn’t seem to care about the armed presence. Norman couldn’t quite get a read on the man. But he was curious as to what the guy was willing to offer. He gestured toward the table and stood up from the throne, taking the seat pulled out for him by Stewart. Donovan took the seat Jacob had pulled out for him. Not that there were any other options.
Donovan didn’t acknowledge or seem to recognize either of Norman’s assistants, which seemed weird. According to Stewart, they had met Donovan and worked with him on multiple occasions under Vincent’s direction.
“Thank you, Stewart, Jacob. That will be all for now. Please bring the food and refreshments when they are ready.”
They both bowed and replied in sync, “Yes, Lord Norman,” before leaving for the kitchen.
Norman turned back to Donovan. “I suppose we might as well get started.”
The man named Donovan nodded slightly. “I am prepared to offer reparations for my son’s return. While he was acting on what he thought was a threat, his actions were based on too many assumptions. Those actions were not condoned by the Council.”
“Let’s say I agree to your terms. What’s to stop him from trying it again?”
“The Council would censure him for his actions.”
“And what does this censure entail?” This question was the first that seemed to elicit any reaction from the man, and it looked like it made him uncomfortable.
“I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information.”
Norman shook his head, “Then I cannot resurrect your son and release him into your custody. Not without some assurance that he would no longer be a threat to me and my people.”
The man looked like he was about to make a counteroffer when Norman held his hand up. “How about this? I will hear out your reparations offer and if I find it acceptable, I will revive your son but only if he is under a blood oath.”
Donovan didn’t even hesitate. “That is an acceptable compromise.”
Norman didn’t care for how fast the man agreed to bind his son with a blood oath. Either he didn’t know what a blood oath was, which Norman found hard to believe, or they had a way to remove them. If it was the same way Norman figured out, they were in for a rude awakening.
From there Donovan went over what they were willing to offer. Which essentially boiled down to manufactured goods. It seems the man had a good idea of what Ashvale was lacking.
After a bit of back and forth, where Norman was able to acquire certain items Grobert had needed for his teleporters, he accepted the offer. Truth be told, he would have accepted pretty much any offer. Ever since he first captured Vincent, he knew it would be an issue. Keeping a soul trapped was not an easy process and the magical items were rough and untested for extended storage. There was also the issue of when Vincent’s father would show up, which happened much faster than Norman predicted. So he decided to eliminate two problems at the same time. It didn’t mean he was going to take this stone-faced man at his word though.
“Now that that bit is out of the way, you said you had other things to discuss?”
“I did. The Council would like to invite you to become a member.”
It took Norman a moment to process what the man had just said. “… You're joking right?”
“Not at all. With my son’s censure, his seat will be available. You obviously have enough necromantic knowledge to defeat someone as strong as Vincent. You are also… how do I put this, amenable to negotiations.”
“You mean I’m not a raging lunatic?”
Donovan gave a thin smile but otherwise didn’t reply.
The offer was interesting. But Norman had to decline. “I’m going to have to say no. While I respect what you are trying to do, I want to remain neutral. Also having to travel to California would take me away from my people for too long.”
“I see,” was all that Donovan said. “Well, that was all I had to discuss then.”
That was it? The man hadn’t even touched the drink or food that had been provided.
“Ok… I suppose I will go and resurrect your son.”
Donovan started to rise to join him, but Norman held out his hand. “I’m going to have to ask you to wait here.”
The man returned to his seat without complaint. Norman wanted to shake his head at the odd behavior but managed to stop himself. “If you need anything while I am gone, please ask one of the knights.”
He left Donovan at the table as he made his way to the safe. He retrieved the Soul Trap and a few other items to perform the ritual. After resecuring the safe, he tasked Jacob to fetch him a grazer.
Both of the assistants had tagged along as soon as Norman left the main room. But they were not allowed to enter the testing chamber so Stewart waited outside the thick stone door.
Norman quickly got busy drawing the spell circles. He added not one, not two, but three separate blood oaths to the spell. The first one would prevent Vincent from using any necromantic spell he hadn’t personally created. Norman didn’t want to take the man’s magic away, but he didn’t deserve to use spells that had been stolen from him.
The next blood oath prevented Vincent from taking any direct or indirect action against Normenia that would cause it problems. That covered retaliation for the most part.
And the last blood oath prevented Vincent from setting foot in his borders ever again once he left. It was the best Norman could do to ensure Vincent would remain a non-issue for as long as possible. He didn’t doubt that a group of powerful wizards would eventually figure out a way to remove the oaths. Hopefully, the two groups had a rapport by then and they would ensure Vincent didn’t cause any future problems.
There was a knock on the door and Eugene entered with an upset grazer. The animal kept trying to tug out of its leather restraints but wasn’t able to.
“I brought these as well,” Eugene stated, setting a pile of rough spun clothes on a nearby bench.
Norman chuckled at seeing the prisoner's garb. “A bit petty don’t you think?”
Eugene just shrugged. “It’s more than he deserves.”
“Fair enough.” Norman gestured toward one side of the spell. “Can you knock out the grazer and stick it inside the circle?”
Soon the room went quiet and Eugene hefted the easily thousand-pound beast into the circle with little effort.
Eugene stepped out of the spell and stood off to the side, seemingly ready for anything. Norman didn’t comment on his actions, thankful that the man took his job seriously. Norman powered the soul containment side and stuck his hands holding the soul trap inside. With a twist, the object cracked in two like an egg and a diaphanous vapor poured out. Norman pulled his hands back out along with the broken soul trap.
Soon a confused-looking specter appeared. The man looked at Norman and sneered.
“Congratulations, Vincent. Your father cared about you enough to negotiate your release.”
If anything, this news only made the man’s ghost frown. But he didn’t say anything and Norman finished powering the spell. There was an aborted scream as the man’s soul was sucked through the spell and into the central circle. The beast’s body was quickly disassembled by the spell as well and Norman watched as all the components came together to form a human body in the center.
He never got tired of seeing the magic in action.
As the spell was completed, Vincent stumbled to the floor. “There are clothes on the table over there. Once you are dressed, Eugene here will guide you to the throne room and your father. I suggest you not dally too long inside my borders or the blood oath may start to cause you some pain.”
With that, Norman left the room and went back to the throne room. Less than twenty minutes later, Eugene and a group of guards escorted the pair out of the city. All he had to show that Donovan would uphold his agreement was a signed sheet of paper, but that was fine. Even if they reneged on this deal, he got what he wanted. And it would let him know just what kind of people he was dealing with.
“Stewart?”
“Yes, Lord Norman?”
“Did you notice anything odd about our guest?”
The man paused to think about it. “I guess he seemed a bit unconcerned with the whole affair.”
“Thanks.” Well, at least it wasn’t just Norman that thought something was off about the man named Donovan.
***
Vincent and Donovan exited the front gates of the city alone. Vincent wanted to turn around and lay waste to this upstart, but even the thought of doing that brought him pain and he could feel a pressure pushing him to keep moving.
“How could you let him put a blood oath on me?” he demanded of his father once they were far enough away from the walls that nobody could overhear them.
His father remained quiet and kept walking. The man seemed even more emotionless and distant than usual. Knowing he would likely not get a response, Vincent kept quiet and scratched at the rough clothing he had been given. That along with being forced back into a living flesh and blood body made him feel out of sorts.
The two continued to walk in silence for a few more hours before his father came to an abrupt stop. “This should be outside the range of any spells.”
“What?” Vincent asked in confusion.
Donovan turned to him and shoved a knife into his heart. As Vincent gaped in surprise, the man that held the face of his father, morphed into one Vincent recognized. “Ixitil, you bastard. Why?”
“This will free you from the blood oaths, and your father will be waiting back home to summon you.” With those words, Ixitil pulled the blade free and was covered in a spray of blood. The man just stood there, uncaring as Vincent bled out.
Once Vincent had passed away, Ixitil took on the form of a predator and devoured the remains of the corpse. When his work was complete, he transformed into his raven form and flew away back to California and his master.
