The 'Wizard's Rage' Project

Chapter 1

Darkness fell over castle Duteir. The cold winter wind howled around the old stone castle as it stood silent in the shadows of a frozen mountain. The wind flowed easily over the ruins of the great wall that once protected the castle from invaders but now lay scattered about, worn down by war and time. The frigid gusts swept through the courtyard and up the wide steps leading to the main keep. Large wooden doors that once kept the wind at bay now lay in broken splinters. Like a raging bull the wind blew into the main hall, swirled about madly for a moment and then shot upward through a gaping hole in the ceiling. It whipped back in through the now shudder-less windows and down the cold stone halls of the empty castle. Like a thief it stole down the stairs to the dungeon and around the remains of a broken door that had been carelessly propped up to keep out the wind.

In the center of the dungeon a man wearing a thick leather cloak and holding a large book walked slowly around a fire and chanted. His hood pulled far over his head to keep out the cold wind that sought to wrap itself around him and steal his precious warmth. The drone of his voice echoed softly off the walls of the empty room. He paused occasionally to read from the large tome or toss small strips of human flesh into the fire.

The scent and smoke of burned hair and flesh filled the dungeon with a thin haze that slowly began to come together in a mix of gray swirls. A formless Shadow consisting of little more than wisps of smoke with glowing red eyes appeared and focused its piercing gaze on the distracted wizard.

Anton didn't notice the evil shadow and continued circling the fire and repeating his chants. The sounds of sizzling flesh and his thick shoes scuffing on the dusty old floor created a constant, rhythmic din.

With a cold hiss the shadow asked, "Why do you seek my master?"

Anton jumped. He was shocked but quickly realized what it was and was insulted, "I'm above speaking to a wraith." He raised his voice, "Tell your master I know his cause and will only speak to him."

A gnarled hand formed in the wisps of the shadow and reached out to Anton. With three feet between them, the wraith closed its claw and the old wizard gasped, grabbed his chest and fell to his knees. The wraith opened and closed its claw to the beat of a heart, "Scoff not wizard," it seethed, "your blood courses by my will."

Anton collapsed and continued clutching his chest as he lay on the ground. The shadow said, I am Bal Rachi. You speak to me and my master hears."

Anton was on the verge of unconsciousness when the shadowy claw vanished. The wraith moved away from the fire to a body lying a few feet away on a low table. A faint blue hue formed over the body as the wraith approached. The evil thing fell over the corpse like a black mist.

Anton slowly got to his feet. He could see a faint shadow cast on the wall by the fire of the wraith as it hovered over the sacrifice. "What are you doing?" he asked as he squinted to see the shadow.

Once the hues were completely absorbed by the wraith it said, "You have taken her life. I have taken her death." The shadow reformed over the fire and said, "Evil wizards are often greedy for power they can never have. What wish you wizard?"

"Nothing more than a rank in your master's kingdom. The master could give me a form like yours."

"Yes," seethed the wraith, "he could, but why grant such a prize and damnation to a simple wizard when he could cast you down and make you an eternal slave in the mines of fire?"

Again the wizard stuck out his chest. "I'm more than a simple wizard. I offer to open a gate for the master so he can set up his throne."

"Two things are required for such a feat, intelligence and power, neither of which were gifted to you. You are simple, as wizards go."