A New world

[Abaddon]

Abaddon walked down the stairway. It was just to the north of the fireplace. The stairs were narrow, and tall, designed for the long angular gait of a Valkyn’vi. Other races could pass, but it would seem alien, unusual. A few turns and the Abaddon reached the floor. A short but cold hallway lead to a set of double doors. At first glance the doors are not that strange. There is a double lock, one above the other. No, it is the bar across the door that is strange. The doors appear to be barred from the outside.

Abaddon lifts the oak log from the door frame, and then takes out a pair of large iron keys. He unlocks both locks, and then pulls the large iron doors open. They swing back on their hinges, revealing a lower ceilinged room.

On the north side is a desk, and on that desk are scrolls. Each one with a detailed drawing of a gate. Complex arcane formula fill the white spaces. The western wall shows a complex flow chart that has the locations of each gate, and it’s gate codec. Even the newest gate shows. It smells of frash paint and cold stone in this room.

Of course it is the circle on the floor that generates most of the interest. It is six feet in diameter, glowing faintly in the shadow. Bolts of blue lightning drift from it to the marble it is etched in. The circle itself is etched into the floor and inlaid with thick rough hewn copper. The copper gleams brightly as sparks drift towards the floor. There is a collection of oddites in the cicle. Gems, muti-colored, and glowing. Seven. One for each chakra on the body. A strange alien skull, with horns and old fanged jaws. A single piece of gold, melted oddly, like a blob. And rich dirt, the kind that lines a grave.

Eye to eye with Abaddon inside the circle was a face. A face of horror and madness. Ethereal tenticles formed it’s body, and it had ovoid eyes. It had not mouth to speak off. You could see through it, as though it were just a figment. But the room smelled of power. The Creatured roared into Abaddon’s skull as he approached. It pierced his mind with it’s telepathic voice.

* RELEASE ME*
“Yazel, as I have told you time and time again. I have bound you by the old pacts. You are trice bound. Perhaps you will be more careful your true name. I have your vessel as my familiar, and Iw ill keep you here until the deal is done.”

* Alien image of torment and pain filled Abaddon’s head.*

“Stop it. You know it’s nt going to work, so why do you bother? You are one of the Shar’en’Myst. The lukers between the walls. I have called you as the old Valkyn’vi did, you must obey me. In this world you are bound. Though I guess you don’t have to like it. Once I have found the way home, I will release you.”

*WHEN YOU DIE I WILL EAT YOUR ESSANCE*

“That is probably true. But I hope it does not come to that.” Abaddon says with a smile. The mask rides low on his face, so you can see the smile of his lips.


*I MUST OBEY THE PACTS.BUT FAIL AND BE DEVOURED.*

“Yes. That is what I thought. And until then, I will do what I can to use your power to protect this place. “ Abaddon said.

He picks up some of the papers, rolls them up and sticks them into his satchel. Then he walks out side, and locks and bars the door once more.

Upstairs and outside he heads over to Ingram’s Tent, and pushes the heavy leather flap open.