Zak took a deep breath of fresh air as he stood at the entrance of the cave, looking off at the empty dunes stretching out before him. He had hoped to catch sight of the culprits that had taken the Obsidian Mirror, but there was no sign of them. Frustrated, his hand touched the pouch hanging across his chest. In the blink of an eye, Gray appeared beside him, returning from the pocket dimension the wolf often called home when not with Zak. Zak petted the large wolf’s head, hoping the touch might help lessen the frustration and anger that still sizzled across his skin. The Obsidian Mirror had been right in their hands, and someone quite powerful had forced their slumber and ripped the ancient artifact away. Rage threatened to overtake Zak at the thought, but he tamped it down.

Zak took another cleansing breath and glanced at Bellighul and Kamille, who looked as exhausted and bedraggled as he --as if a Dark Lord and Fire Archmage could ever look lesser. It had taken the trio hours to traverse back through the ruins, pursuing the thieves. Footprints and other evidence of the miscreants’ recent presence preceded them as they went. Zak had found a muddy thawb and satchel along the way that might have been dropped by one of the thieves.

Reminded of the satchel, Zak brushed the mud off the bag and uncovered a strange symbol etched on the flap. “Hey, look at this,” he said to the others, holding out the satchel. “Have either of you seen a symbol like this?”

Kamille's thoughts were still a bit cloudy, and she must have hit her head when she fell, because there was a small cut in her temple. Even Mischief had fell to the sleep spell, and she still craddled him in her arms while the raven fully recovered its senses. Kamille was often slow to anger, but her frustration was starting to grow, specially when she looked at her raven and the state of the two mages with her.

"Do you think you're good to fly, Mischief? You could really help us right now..."

But Mischief hid his face in the nook of her arm, as if avoiding duty and sunlight, as they stepped out of the cave. She tried to steady herself using just one arm, as the other nested the bird. Taking a deep breath as they reached the outside world, she turned to see the other two, both as beaten and frustrated as she was, apparently. Though if they were to judge his outburst inside the cave, Bellighul was certainly furious on another level entirely. This whole excursion seemed to be taking a greater toll on the Necromancer than he anticipated. To see his homeland devastated shouldn't be easy on anyone, really.

She approached Zak as he held out the satchel.

"It doesn't ring any bells, no......"

The sun was punishing and severe, the air itself warped on the ground as a mirage in the distance betrayed the senses. The sun, something Bellighul was not particularlly fond of, was high and oppressive. This was Zeinav after all. Land of dunes and ancient temples. His black robes allowed the sweat to circulate better however, known for millenia, the thicker black fabric of nomads absorbed the heat rather than the body. He was perhaps better insulated than the other mages; yet he despised the sun and the god mainfested in it. 

He looked to Zak and Kamille, who eyed a strange symbol found half buried in the sand. He moved ever closer, boots trampling in anger. He was fueled by it now. Defilers had taken their prize but more so, something he claimed as part of the long heritage of the ruins. In the hands of thieves, it was degraded. 

He looked keenly at the symbol and instantly recognized it. 

"The Brotherhood of Vipers" he spoke softly. He pressed his fingers against the satchel, flexing the leather in his grasp as dark shadows danced from his palm. He cared little what his companions thought currently. The once void like eyes of his mask now dotted with twin scarlet stars. 

"These are cut throats and vagabonds...how they managed into Ahriman is peculiar...little matter. They won't be a match for us in the slightest. Doom befalls them by sun rise." His words were harsh, his baritone voice carrying across the sands and he glanced outward into the desert. 

"I know of their locale, it is a trek across the white sands but not far. They will make camp in the shelter of the limestone caves, it is there we will find the Obsidian Mirror."

Thus they made their way, Bellighul in front, he knew these shifting sands well as major monuments persisted throughout time. Yet, navigating a desert, which may change in terrain within weeks, is no easy task. His water bottle in hand, he said little as they began their march. 

Holding out the satchel, Zak studied his companions while they examined the symbol. Exhausted and frustrated as they all were, Zak was especially concerned about Kamille. Her demeanor was more downcast than usual, and her normally sparkling dark blue eyes appeared dull and lacking their usual vitality. Even Mischief was quiet and subdued, hiding in Kamille’s arms.

Bellighul was another story. His anger was palpable, his red eyes sparkling with fury. Zak had never been completely comfortable with Bellighul, and after their excursion in the cave, Zak had even more trepidation as to the intentions of the Dark Lord.

Zak glanced at Kamille. Was she as discomforted as he was about the man? How well did she know him? Zak sighed, realizing that it still wasn’t the time or place for such concerns. All Zak knew for certain at the moment was that they had a common enemy right now, and he would proceed with that in the forefront of his mind. No matter Bellighul’s magical practices, the three of them were committed to their endeavor, and Zak was in it for the long haul.

“The Brotherhood of Vipers?” Zak repeated under his breath. An ominous name to be sure. From what Bellighul had told them of the Obsidian Mirror, no band of miscreants should ever be allowed to gain possession of its secrets. It was now up to them to retrieve it and bring it to the Mage’s Guild, seemingly the safest place for an artifact of its power to reside. Zak could only hope that the Dark Lord didn’t have other plans for it.

Zak wrapped his shemagh around his head, prepared to brave the unrelenting white dunes again. He and Gray moved to walk beside Kamille as Bellighul led them out into the desert sands. “Kamille,” Zak said softly, “Are you all right?” He grimaced sheepishly. “I know. I know. A silly question. Of course you aren’t okay. But… Is there anything I can do?” Gray nudged the back of Kamille’s hand, giving her his version of comfort. Zak smiled, wishing he had the right, or courage, to make a similar gesture.

Unlike Zak, Kamille didn’t seem to bat an eye at Bellighul's display of darkness and anger, and that made her thoughtful for a moment. It was a demeanor that wasn't alien to her - nor did his magic seem to strike a nerve. She couldn’t just pinpoint why she was so comfortable with it, so nonchalant, as if she grew up around it.....

Which may as well be the answer.

The Pyromancer pushed such thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. The mage, often so chatty and open seemed to close off for the time being - not exactly sulking, but also not being overly sharing, letting her thoughts simmer in silence.

Of course, she promptly offered Gray a sweet smile, for a beasts had a special place in her heart. She scratched his chin in a tender way, before turning to Zak to answer.

"I'm okay, really. It's just the sleep spell got me harder than I thought, I'm still feeling the aftertaste of it. I just need some time."

She offered him a reassuring smile. Mischief stirred in her arms, and she looked a bit better when she saw him take flight once again. For the better part of the remaining of the walk, Mischief flew above and in front of them, used to scouting already. Some moments later, he dove again and perched up Kamille's shoulder.

"CAWWW! DANGER! One, two, three, four, five! One, two, three, four, five!"

"I'm still uncertain if he just knows how to count to five, so.... I wouldn’t trust this count." 

The raven flew on the desert wind, uplifting and diving in the sweltering invisible current. To have Mischief survey the terrain was a necessity, as a powerful sandstorm rolled across the horizon, to overtake the area in a matter of hours. Bellighul pressing onward, found himself standing on the tallest dune nearby, the tracks of a sidewinder still fresh near his feet. A small brush area was bellow, a fennec fox twitched it's small ears as it listened, Bellighul watching it closely. Like the fox, he was aware of a presence nearby and perhaps the fox knew of the incoming storm. 

He motioned to his comrades to join him, he stared off without speaking and merely pointed to a large limestone formation, dotted with caves. 

Mischief flew in that direction via Kamille's command and returned a few moments, speaking a series of numbers.

"The vipers' den..." He spoke softly, gazing to Zak first and Kamille second. He was used to mouthing tales of of Zeinav; of its flying rugs and djinn who lurked in mirages. There was none this time. He was focused and furious. He began to descent down the dune, careful not to fall down it's face. The fennec leaped back into it's burrow, a scorpion hanging by its tail from its mouth. 

Sometime later, under the rays of a high sun, they found the shadow of the formation and the serenity of it's shade. As it stretched a hundred feet, giving them mild relief from the heat. 

Yet, unsuspectingly, a well of water formed at Bellighul's feet, swirling beneath him as it shot upwards in all directions and formed an orb around his person. This Water Prison now swirled within, a strong vortex that suspended the Lord of Ghouls and thrashed him inside wildly, unable to gain his footing. He held his breath, but force slammed his chest force air out in bubbles from the crevices of his mask. 

From somewhere, Mages of the Brotherhood of Vipers began their assault, hidden in the rocks. 

Zak frowned as he listened to Kamille, not buying her reassuring smile one bit. Deciding not to intrude further, Zak kept his own counsel for the moment. It was evident that all three of them had been deeply affected by the events of the previous few hours, and only time would tell what the ramifications would be.

Zak glanced at Bellighul who had been silent for most of the trek across the dunes. He could only imagine the depth of what Bellighul was feeling as they traversed the ruins of his people’s homeland. Zak could still sense the dark energy surrounding the man, but strangely it now felt less ominous than Zak expected. It seemed that vanquishing the dark entity they had just encountered had created a bond between the three of them as fighting for one’s life together often did. For now, Zak would give Bellighul the benefit of the doubt, knowing that the man deserved his trust and respect after the ordeal they had just experienced.

Even now, they were dependent on Bellighul to help them navigate. He led without words, until Mischief cawed and indicated danger. The trio continued to move forward, alert that they were close to what Bellighul called ‘the vipers’ den.

Suddenly, Bellighul was engulfed in a watery sphere, and began to struggle. They were under attack. Unfortunately, Zak had no magick that could help Bellighul get free from the watery prison he found himself in. Hopefully, Kamille had some way to counter the magick afflicting Bellighul.

Looking around anxiously, Zak looked for any sign of their enemies. Rock formations flanked the trio, and Zak assumed that the vipers were hidden among them. As his gaze scanned the rocks, Zak noticed a mere shadow of movement, enough to give him a target. Without another thought, Zak sent out a bolt of intense earth energy toward the pile of rocks where he had noticed the movement. The top of the rock formation blew off, and a scream could be heard, echoing across the landscape. One down, how many more to go? Zak wondered, as his hand rose, prepared to strike again as soon as another foe showed themself.

Kamille felt the magic flowing, that static running through the air, before the spell was even cast. And yet, she failed to warn them in time: a water bubble was cast, and Bellighul held trapped inside it. Luckly, Zak had already started to attack their attackers to keep them at bay, while she turned to the water bubble and whispered a few words of power.

A Counterspell dissipated the energy held up to keep the bubble, making the water simply lose its shape and fall to the ground. Before tending to their guide, she reached out inside her pocket, taking what looked like two pieces of chess: Two rooks. Extending her hands and giving the arcane command, the two pieces came to life, wriggling themselves out of the stupor. And then, when they flew out of her hands, they hit the ground with the weight of stone giants. Two giant, stone gargoyles woke from their slumber before their eyes, each of them standing at least six feet tall, heavy, fanged and winged. Their eyes were vacant, but they clearly were able to understand commands, as Kamille quickly barked at them:

"Get these cowards out of their hideouts! Mis Fortune, to the left! Sir Prize, right!"

Without wasting any time, the gargoyles started trotting forward, one of them to the left of the rock formation, and the other taking the right side. Each step they took, the ground shook.

Kamille quickly went to help Bellighul up, making haste to brace herself for the incoming attack of the vipers that were about to leave their positions, least be ran over by the giant stone gargoyles.

Amidst the sands, Bellighul now crouched, coughing severely as a trail of water escaped from his mouth and out from the mask. Surrounded by water, which slowly sank into the depths of the desert, he rose with aid from his compatriot. Bracing himself with her arm, his robes heavier from saturation, the Lord of Ghouls grew even more angry than he was once was. The spell was powerful, yet easily dismissed by the Exalted Pyromancer, he knew Counterspell would be worthy of adding to his diabolical arsenal. 

"Thank you, Raven Caller." He said as he witnessed the large gargoyles barrel towards their attackers. The sound of the rock face that Zak had arcaned still resonating, the screaming dying off but not the shifting of stones. 

Yet, from his flank, leaping from behind a large protrusion, a veiled bandit rushed towards him. His allies looking away, Bellighul witnessed the silver of a dagger reflecting the sun; dulled by the large shadow they found themselves in. He was quick, faster than the Lord of Ghouls and breached attacking distance before Bellighul could ready himself. A swift motion of the hand was all that was seen. A steel gleam cloaked in beads of crimson in the air. Perhaps if he was calm, he would have been more aware.

Yet, his ebon robes displayed the pallid skin upon his a section of his chest, a thin red line across his left pectoral muscle. The water had saved his neck, as it sunk the lead foot of the bandit and caused a well timed mishap. Blood trickled down from the wound slowly, the Ebon Enigma wasted little time as he tore off his black glove and tumbled out of the way in a single motion.

A crackle of white electricity danced from his palm, arcing randomly and dangerously as he was still covered in wet clothing. Yet, he loosed the Chromatic Blast and streak of lightning escaped outwards in a vicious ray. The water logged sand causing the bandit to be held in place, sinking half way to his shins as he struggled. Only a terrible scream filled the air as they were electrocuted, slamming into the chest above the heart. 

He did not stop, as his pale flesh was now painted with a deep wound, not fatal yet painful. 

He gestured to the ground, hands formed like an eagle's talons as the sand began to stir. Swirling in a strange wind that revealed a number of sigils and runes emerging as if drawn. "I promise you, Vipers...I promise you pain...agony...thieves all, the mirror belongs to me. Master of the Black Obelisk, caller of horrors. Your blood is mine." He said within earshot of his fellow adventurers, eyes alight in scarlet and menacing. Beneath him, shadowy hands seemed to form, raking outwards from his form in a display that chilled the bones of the living.

No sooner had Zak sent out a blast of thunder energy, wounding or possibly killing one of the vipers, two more bandits came rushing towards him out from behind the rock outcroppings. Attacks coming at him from both sides, Zak had no time to react to what was happening with his companions. With a flick of his wrist, Zak shot out a beam of energy at the sword pointing directly at him by one of his attackers⁽¹⁾. Quickly the sword began to rust, sending flakes and bits twirling to the ground. In a matter of seconds, the sword had broken into pieces, useless. Now disarmed, the bandit turned back to retreat behind the rocks.

Zak raised his arm to attack the retreating bandit, but was interrupted before he could strike when the viper advancing on his right moved in close. Zak grimaced as their dagger sliced into his side. He pivoted and pushed his attacker away, Zak’s touch sending crackling energy into the viper’s leg⁽²⁾. The bandit moaned, the flesh on their leg turning stiff and hard. They stumbled as their leg solidified into stone and became exceedingly heavy and unwieldy.

Holding his side to staunch the blood, Zak moved away and was finally able to review their situation. Kamille had unleashed gargoyles on the bandits, and the gods only knew what Bellighul was conjuring. The Dark Lord’s words continued to concern Zak. Was Bellighul going to fight Kamille and him over possession of the Obsidian Mirror? Would an ally become their foe after all?

His musings were interrupted when Zak noticed another figure rise up from behind the rocks. Large and imposing, water sluiced off of them and pooled at their feet as they advanced, arms outstretched. Without a thought, Zak gathered his mana and struck. A white beam of lightning flashed from his hand, striking the cryomancer in the chest⁽³⁾. They howled as bright sparkles flitted across their torso, but kept advancing. Zak raised his hand, prepared to strike again.

---

(1) Age Item
(2) Lithify
(3) Chromatic Blast

There was too much happening, and little time to react to it all. She heard Bellighul, and the concern rose in the back of her mind, just to be pushed aside for the moment, for there were more urgent matters that needed to be dealt with now.

The two gargoyles happily barreled towards the Vipers, scattering a few of them. One of them, too slow to react, was promptly ran over Miss Fortune - and never stood up again. Another one tried to attack Sir Prize, but was hit by an enourmous stony arm, that threw him across the sands some good couple yards ahead.

Bellighul and Zak were being hurt - she needed to do something. Quickly. She caught some movement with the side of eye, and as she turned, one of the vipers ran towards her. It was too quick for her to cast anything more complicated, so she Blinked out of reach, her image disappearing where she stood and reapearing a bit ahead.

"Miss Fortune! Take care of him!"

As the gargoyle ran past her without hesitation, she turned and was faced with the Cryomancer, now much closer. Kamille seemed to have felt his intention, because she reacted barely in time: the cryomancer took a deep breath, and then from his mouth he shot what appeared to be projectiles made of water. One of them hit her in the shoulder, before she rose her hands and golden sands swirled before her, forming some sort of twisting, living wall that shielded her from the remaining of his attacks. The rest of the shots were lost into the sands.

The sands spiralled out in the air, but the gold still flickered as the flames once more enveloped her hands. Kamille hurled another one of her Fireballs at the Cryomancer, only to be met with a wall of ice that instantly shattered by the force of the spell - but was still efficient in keeping the caster safe.

The two mages faced each other. Once again, fire took the place of the blue in her eyes.

"Give us the mirror."

Bellighul's words stirred different responses from his comrades, though he knew this he was sincere. The Mirror was paramount to him, a key not only to entering the Mage's Guild but recovering a treasure from his former life. His mentality was questionable, his fury absolute but betrayal was not of his person. Yet, he was indeed one for plots and schemes. His vile machinations were always changing and evolving, the Vipers but another obstacle in his great plans. He willed himself to be the Necromancer supreme, the most powerful Dark Mana wielder in all of Charon. It was his faith, it was his purpose. 

He knew no other. 

Thus, the sands ruptured like a great geyser as he summoned his Undead Hulk from the dark circle. The ghastly roar of the abomination rumbled the stones and souls of all who heard it's call. The large axe dragged zombie-like through the sand behind the enormous undead, causing a trench to follow it as it stomped towards the rock formation. It's free hand glew with a violet energy, as it passed the bandit who sliced open it's Master's chest. The being casted Raise Dead, the electrofied body of the assassin writhed on the ground, rising up from the damp sand in snapping bones and contortions, wielding a blood covered dagger. It's tongue grossly long as it flailed outwards, eyes of deepest yellow. 

"Your companions..." Bellighul whispered, a Necromancer's command, staring at the newly risen ghoul. "Kill those who live, feast on your former friends." 

The Hulk on the other hand, stormed forward, flanking the Cryomancer which Kamille had begun to battle in a duel of mages. It's great axe swung down, halted by a Salt Air spell, causing the rusted blade to deteriorate as it meant to cleave the Crymancer in two. Yet, it provided an opening for Kamille and Zak to take the offensive. 

Meanwhile, the ghoul launched itself into the air, on the opposite side of the Cyromancer, it's body weak and only capable of minor wounds, it no less caught the Cryomancer off balance, an sliced across their back. 

In the midst of the chaos, Zak stayed focused and moved toward the cryomancer while he gathered his mana for another barrage. Kamille’s protective magick shielded her from the water mage’s onslaught, but then the mage countered by blocking Kamille’s first attack on him. Kamille continued to advance, magick crackling around her. Her eyes flashed red as she challenged the cryomancer.

"Give us the mirror."

No longer surprised by Bellighul’s dark power, Zak didn’t even flinch when the conjured Undead Hulk emerged and stalked toward the cryomancer, dragging an ax along the ground behind him. Even when the ghoul raised the slain bandit from the dead, and Bellighul took command, Zak accepted it without a thought, recognizing their need for extreme measures. Whatever would get them out of this situation was all that mattered right now.

The Hulk charged towards the cryomancer, but when he tried to strike the mage his ax crumbled into dust. First the cryomancer had countered Kamille’s attack, and now he destroyed a massive ax with a flick of his wrist. They would need to tap into all of their magick, both Dark and Light, to defeat this formidable foe.

Zak’s body hummed with elemental energy, his body radiating a greenish aura. As Zak raised his arm to fire, the undead bandit struck the cryomancer from behind. Zak took advantage of the mage’s momentary distraction, and sent forth a bolt of Light energy from his fingertips. As the Light magick struck, an amber mist spread across the cryomancer’s chest, eating away at his life force. Wounded and weakened, the mage staggered a bit, but stood his ground. Zak repeated Kamille’s demand.

"Give us the mirror."

The Vipers were done with. The two gargoyles still ran around finishing up with some of them. Sir Prize had already lost a wing when he was hit by a desperate man that avoided his charge. The gargoyle crumbled before him, but his relief was shortlived: Mis Fortune came in revenge to her partner, and promptly squashed the remaining viper to the ground. Soon after that, her magic also faded, and she returned to her original form: that of a rook, alongside her Sir Prize, on the ground.

All the vipers dead or dying, the criomancer saw himself alone and surrounded by all sorts of murderous intentions. The Undead Hulk flanked him, one of the man drained his energy and the woman in front of him seemed to be the most merciful of them: instead of blasting a hole into his head, she raised her hands in claws and the grouns shook: at her command, the earth moved and swallowed him in a stone prison. The stone cocoon was tight and felt unbreakable, while barely allowing him to breath.

"I yield! I yield! If you let me die, the mirror will be lost forever!"

It was his last chance at surviving, his last oportunity. Weakened, without any external help, and caught between three powerful mages. Luckly for him, it was the pyromancer that heard his pleas. She looked around, seeing as the situation was already taken care of, mostly. After a moment of deliberation, he let out a relieved sigh as Kamille's eyes turned back to its natural cobalt hue. He understood what that meant. It waa such a shame he has taken the role of the enemy: he had beautiful blue eyes.

"If you give us the mirror, I can guarantee we'll not harm you further... for now. I will not vouch for your safety in our next encounter, if it so happens. What is your name?"

He wasn't in much of a place to refuse anything, but still shot her a dirty look from his stone cage.

"Norrix."

"Norrix, I don't need to tell you, you shouldn't try to pull any prank on us right now. I compromise in letting you go after you give us the mirror, but if you do anything else, we'll have to act. Do you agree?"

Another dirty look from him, and this time he shot a glance to the others too. He didn't have much of a choice, did he?

"...............Yes."

With that, Kamille released the criomancer from his confinement.

Bellighul listened well to Kamille's bargain, although he deeply wished that the cryomancer had been more defiant. He was far too honorable to cut down the rogue mage after yielding. Yet, Norrix agreed to take them within the outcrop and it was wholly true that attempting to find the Mirror within the thieves den may prove impossible without his aid. As his dark summons turned to ash in the sweltering desert heat, dissipating in the wind to return to nothingness, Bellighul spoke in his native language. 

("Know this...it would have been better to die. Now, I will hunt you as a jackal does a hare. Flee, flee to the farthest reaches of this continent. I will turn you into a ghoul to serve me eternally next we meet.") He declared and vowed in a harsh tone as Norrix rose from the earthen grasp. Bellighul turned to the others, his mask hiding a slight smile as he clutched his bloody chest. 

"Best we move quickly, our guide may prove treacherous...if so..." He stared now at the Cryomancer. "I would delight in watching Kamille incinerate you or this one's wolf tear your limb from limb. To the Mirror, immediately."

_________________
___________

The system of wind carved caves was treacherous, sharp inclines and loose rocks easily marking an adventurer's end as they climbed in shadows. It was no mere chance the Brotherhood of Vipers chose such a locale to guard the Obsidian Mirror within. Several vulture picked skeletons lay at the bottom of a chasm and a skull served as a marker for a thin natural bridge across it. The stone was a iron red, chipping easily and only the most dauntless travelers would dare further. Yet, the shadows of the cave they now found themselves in was resprise from the hot sun, aside from the Pyromancer. 

"Here" Norrix pointed into the dark, a number of torches seemed to lead further. "I won't look at it knowing it's no longer in my hands." However, Bellighul clutched him by the back of the robes, twirling it tight in his gloved hand. Looming behind him he spoke in his ear, loudly.

"You will carry it out personally." The Tomb King sneered, shoving the Cyromancer forward into the shadow, the Lord of Ghouls just behind him. 

Several meters away, the torch light danced against a polished mirror, blacker than the shadows themselves. It was built into a temporary timber frame, not fixed to the ground. It stood sentinel, tall as the average human. Bellighul pushed the Cryomancer out of the way, his other hand, bare and pallid, slid down the obsidian smoother than the finest glass. 

Yet, as his hand maintained contact with the face of it, he moved around to the rear. 

Numerous names in the old Zeinavian tongue etched and then gilded. He took a deep breath and was overcome with glee. 

"Nergalsharusur...Sargon....Mardonicles...Verathep..." He read outloud, as if drunk on history. 

"We have found it, comrades...the Mage's Gu..." He stopped, as his eyes scanned more of the list of previous owners. He released his hand on the Mirror and backed away, staring at the etching as if he himself was horrified. Yet, his expression was hid by his skeletal mask. Sitting on the ground, slamming his back into the rock, he grew silent. Though, in such moments he was prone to infernal outbursts and dancing shadows, it was lacking. 

From his posture, lurching and in despair he announced. "We should leave, Norrix will drag the mirror to the Oasis and we can arrange transport. A Scholar of the Mythical Archive is waiting for us and our prize is membership. Let us make haste."