Alkadian Entaris Beldier III- Sword and Soul

The halls of Entaris Keep echoed with the ringing of hammers that night. Word of Alkadian's deeds in the recent war had spread quickly, and men had come to pledge their services to him. Their efforts now furnished and developed his Stronghold from an empty stone compound to a flourishing sanctuary for the wars exiles. Some outcasts from the military forces of Jason Steelsmith's army, while others had served the armies of Thesk, and lended their allegiance to the Lord of house Beldier in the name of their black emperor. They now made their home here, filling the many rooms, and bringing with them the weapons and armor of the fallen forces. Spoils of war and tools of battle stacked high. His rise to power was quickening.

For the first time since he was a child, men were once again calling him Lord, and meaning it. His family had a reputation back in the dark kingdom, and many had just assumed they were all killed by a warring household. News that the son of Entaris Beldier II was indeed alive, and tipping the scales of battles in the new untamed realm caused commotions amongst the neighboring towns. A few gold coins ensured that men returning from battle brought with them news of a powerful Mage gaining influence and land beyond mankind's borders. He used this gossip and mystery to fuel the fires of his greatness. Words were very powerful tools. He was again feared.

He sat alone in the audience chamber, studying a map he had made of the Green Wild. Calculating the distances between outposts and looking for regions that promised adventure and wealth. His thirst for power was yet quenched.

He folded up the map after a time and pulled out the rod he had received from Milo's chests before the battle had started. It was ancient. He knew that much. The craftsmanship put any item made by his hand to shame. The power sleeping inside was weak after no doubt decades of dormancy. Patterns along the shaft led him to believe it was part of a set. Somewhere out in the wilderness there may be more like it, possibly crafted by the same hand. This idea exited him. Alkadian loved wands.

Uttering a few magical words, his eyes began to glow with a blue heat. The world before him unfolded into a tapestry of arcane design. Invisible threads of magic that held this plane of existence together became clear to him, and everything around him hummed with dull energy. Looking over the rod again revealed a vast history of powerful markings. The very frame of the device seemed to unfold and reveal its construction, whispering secrets about how and what made it. Just then he sensed an intense increase in magic from the doorway behind him.

Spinning on his nimble feet he turned to face a dark figure hiding amongst the shadows of the far wall. Cold empty eyes peered out at him. The darkness did nothing to hide the man from his arcane vision. Sneering, Alkadian drew power from the rod in his hand and without a sound projected a massive spear of magical energy towards the intruder from the tip of his outstretched finger. The room seemed to go silent as the shadows and air appeared to suck into the tip of the spell before it struck the man, pinning him to the wall through his chest. Even the screams from the pain were swallowed by the imbibing force of the spear.

Wand in each hand, Alkadian stepped forward to confront the unseen trespasser. The thought of it being one of his new men mattered not to him. No one dared to sneak up on Lord Beldier. Thoughts of the enemy mages throne room ran shivers down his spine.

"Name yourself." His voice was calm and powerful.

"I... I am...your servant my master..." His voice was full of terror, and as the blood poured from his body the strength seemed to drain from his words. "I have come..to.....serve you.... Lord."

Alkadian recognized the man now. He was the white haired fellow Jason Steelsmith had introduced after the death of SamDread. He could sense power in this man. He was strong, and arcane energies coursed through him. The spell would have killed any lesser man, yet here he stood, wounded and pledging his life to Alkadian. Caution got the better of him.

"And why do you wish to serve me? Why would you throw away a life of freedom to live under the service of one like myself?" Alkadian questioned, wands at the ready (should his answer displease).

"You...are destined....for power." He urked out under the pressure of the still humming magical spear. "I look upon you and...see the dark shadows of strength...like rays on the sun....And I must..keep my oath..."

He lowered his wands. Suddenly he sensed a connection he had not felt before. Some distant and cold voice seemed to whisper to him. A gift. A blessing. Embrace my strength child. Your day will come. He is here to guide you. He looked down to the humming energy of the black sword strapped to the mans side. Uttering the words under his breath, Alkadian summoned forth another spell. Their eyes locked, and like an orange Alkadian peeled back the layers of the man's mind. He saw a long and deadly road that lead from a grave, across the countryside, and to Alkadians new home. He sensed terrible fear, and great dark power hidden all around him. A strange yet familiar name met his lips...Vharkus....

"You swear to serve my will? You swear by your life that in service to me you shall spread the words of my greatness, and live only to aid me to my seat of power?" He asked with razor sharp seriousness.

"My master...I am yours. Let me......serve...my.........master..." Tears were pouring down the man's long face. He was shaking with terror and confusion, but his words were sincere. The man fell to the ground as the spear of energy vanished. He landed on his knees, and simply lowered his head in surrender and pain.

A new wand protruded from Alkadians sleeve, and with a small flash of light the mans wounds began to heal. Placing his hand under the injured stranger's chin he lifted his head to look him dead in the eyes.

"Your life is now mine, and through me you shall sit in the seat of greatness. You will be my chosen. Pledge your sword to me, and you shall be my left hand." Slowly Alkadian unsheathed the elven blade he wore at all times. A blade that never saw the face of battle, but marked his rank as high lord of the Beldier family. He then proceeded to place the blade on the man's left shoulder, followed by his right, as only a lord could. "Now arise and serve me, Sir Vharkus Grey of House Beldier."

"My sword and my soul are yours to command my Master" He spoke with a new found strength, and the fear seemed to leave his eyes.

**********

In a far off place, where darkness hung thick and commanding, two skeletal hands clasped in a gesture of success. The pieces were beginning to fit together.