-------------- Silverwraith

They watched quietly as the procession passed. Emma could not but shudder at the presence in the lead. The envoys themselves gave her reason enough to cringe, but the figure in the black and gold robe was as dark as her mother was the source of light. The pendant hanging around his neck, the skull topped staff, the diabolic prayers written in dragon blood along the golden edging of his robe. Here was a darkness beyond any she had ever met. As one of the envoys in the procession turned its gaze towards the companions gathered at the back of the hall, his eyes flared with deep blue-black magius. The recent burn on her shoulder glowed in response, sending burning pains through her arm. Surely this Lord of Damia would not be so bold as to bring a demon with him. She hoped not.

They watched from the back of the chamber, allowed to be there, but not allowed to speak or be seen other than as window dressing. It was Dove's time to shine here. It was her homeland, her church, her God if one could believe her claims that the Del-Mage was actually the Elven God Labelas himself. Her rank as an Oracle of the Church, the equivalent of a Bishop in the kingdom of Carellon, or a Reverend Mother in the Symballan Empire, had never been significant in their adventures. Now it was. They strained to hear the conversation. The Lord of Damia, Cyrus al'Kassam, the one time apprentice of Shang the Necromancer, was here to petition the Del-Mage to renew the old alliance between Damia and Delsia. The War with the Shadows might not be on Arrallon yet, but its first battles had already been waged across the Grave Plains of Damia. And it had been Dove's visions that had revealed this. It had also been she, and her connection to the Del-Mage that had allowed Cyrus to make the offer of alliance. Now, that historic meeting was to take place.

Mythos watched intently. He could smell it. There were at least two, maybe three of the procession that were shapechanged dragons, leaders of their respective clan's forces no doubt. There were others, normal humans some, other races as well, either powerful in their art or skilled in arms. But there was one figure he could not size up. She was tall, just at six feet, toned and powerful, clad in shiny silver clothes that he suspected to be not actually cloth at all. She bore a Psi-sword, not unlike those wielded by Vestor and Zharnaclol, and had an odd hand gun strapped to her side. Odd that the guardians of Elfkourt would have allowed such weapons in the presence of their ruler, the Del-Mage. At length, she was introduced, as Dove announced the acceptance of a gift from Lord Cyrus, the service of one of his field commanders, Colonel Silverwraith, the daughter of General Kodan, a skilled Shadow hunter, and like her father, a Shade.

-------------- Credits

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