DND CATS - Heroes of Faerun

Post 13 - Twisted Summoner: Dark Rites

A black raven brought another parcel and began to rest on a table behind a man that has completed his casting. He hunches over, examining the results, realizing soon enough that he is unsatisfied with them. “Damn, another failure!?” he exclaims pounding the table that the raven was perched on til then. The flapping of small wings draws the man’s attention. In a fit of anger, he snatches the enclosed later from the raven, and yells at it to return before placing the letter onto the table. He shifts his lanky, and somewhat clumsy body once more, focusing again on his latest manifestation. With piercing green snakelike eyes, he judges his work once more. With brows furrowing, he finally decides to give an order. “Unfit abomination! Go southwest and attack any living thing you meet!” he says in a high-pitched voice, decidedly disgusted with his work. The creature, roaring in anguish, walks in the direction the man pointed in complete obedience. A twisted smile appears on the man’s pale face, as he rests himself on one of the stools situated at the same table he left the letter. Sighing deeply, he unbinds the letter’s strap.

‘The group I mentioned recently has destroyed the beast you sent to Phandalin. One of their comrades was missing as well. I find the quality of your work rather reproachable. I’m not confident you’re fit to continue development of the portal, if spawn of this level is all you can produce. Perhaps you’ve forgotten your debt to me? See to it that your spellcraft is honed, or I will make sure your deeds are brought to light.’

The man grits his teeth after seeing the signature, crushing the paper in his hands before throwing it further inside what he could only call his lair. Bound, much like the demons he created, he sits, fuming with rage at his predicament. Years had passed since the incident, and he must work tirelessly to secure his future. Secure it though he must, he would not let his brother seize power from him. His attention shifts to the parts he works on while resting from conjuration. A grin settles upon his face as he realizes that he may soon have the tool he needs to win his freedom back.

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Zaergo

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