Fear No Evil

Ye Shall Reap What Ye Sow

In Castle Serowik, within a parlor filled with strange effigies and other oddities, a black, smoky rift opened and Xadof Haws, King Iroma's High Mage stepped through. He enjoyed visiting the realms of possibility and abusing their power structure. It made him feel invincible.

Later he would scry through his crystal ball and discover Flyz's final fate. He felt an extreme disappointment in his dark apprentice, Grimgland. Terrible! he thought. Defeated by a band of inexperienced adventurers. Flyz was reborn to sow disorder in Vradenburg so that he, Xadof, could manipulate King Iroma into his web of deceit and corruption. There was nothing he could do at this point. To chase down and kill the Cleric and her compatriots would be folly in his current condition. Crossing into another plane of existence and expending his sorcery there drained most of his occult energies. Not to mention if he were to succeed in their murders he was bound to leave some evidence of his presence behind. After all, how many other powerful wizards were there in Credomia?

Now, regrettably, he needed to coordinate and meet with the Church of Renold and possibly, the Granma Uranos Gang-- the local Thieve's Guild, for when the general public learns that those four heroines decimated Flyz's Army and killed the Mad Necromancer, there would be no end to their popularity within Vradenburg's walls. Was it really all for naught? No, he would find another scourge to create and control, forcing the King to accept his counsel and follow his specious advice. He would have to learn the resurrection spell again, lure another loyal subject into his confidence, and he would have to stoop to absconding with another valuable gem from the King's vault.

He was thinking long-dead Sir Lurid would make a good Death Knight. He would have to visit his tomb when the time was right, when Olamark, Threadim's moon, eclipsed the sun, Everbeid. Only then could he enact his master plan to turn Vradenburg into a city of despair and damnation, ruled by himself, with an easily controlled King Iroma to follow his commands.

Speaking of moons... Many moons ago back at Castle Zungal he conversed with Flyz, "There is no arrogance like a king's arrogance. Your urn was placed in his trophy room by his grandfather and forgotten. Give your regards to King Iroma if you get the chance, for without his remarkable vanity you would not be here."

Flyz's body shook with rage. "When I get the chance I will tear the head from his shoulders!"

"As you wish," he said and smiled wanly.

As long as he was in the elite social circles of the aristocracy he would be a hand-wringing menace to the kingdom at large and he would continue to influence an unsuspecting public and work his machinations behind the scenes. And why cause all this chaos? Why?! Because he learned early in his youth that if you couldn't lie and take advantage of people and situations then the world would leave you behind. So he became greedy and hungry for power and when he impressed the King with his sorcery and wicked intelligence he began to set his ulterior goals into motion. He told no one that for the twenty-one years that he taught at the schools of magic, his students had not so secretly called him Xadof the Weasel!

Unfortunately for him, he wasn't the only one holding a secret. Soon after Flyz's "rebirth," he figured out who his mysterious benefactor was, and through some circuitous manipulations of his own left a magical surprise for King Iroma. Thus, upon Grimgland's death, a creepy porcelain doll was sent to the King and when he opened the package a spellbound message spoke through the doll revealing all about Xadof's political motives and sinister betrayals.

Unbeknownst to the King and Serowik's more influential residents, the Demonologist had his clone well hidden from curious prying eyes in Flyz's underground laboratory within the castle tower. After locking it in the coffin, he had told Flyz that it was a vessel for the Necromancer's soul in the untimely case that he should die before he could exact his revenge upon Vradenburg. But, alas, he lied. It wasn't Flyz's clone-- it was his! If that fat, arrogant pig failed him then he deserved whatever fate dealt him. Xadof "the Weasel" Haws did not reward failure. So, ultimately his own wicked philosophy was his undoing.