Chapter IV
"Dark Heart, Darker Ambition"

Sarian stood upon the gates of Thorbodin, his dark robes dwindling around him. A storm was approaching as he glanced at the darkening night sky, his eyes as black as the robes he wore. Sarian stepped toward the gates. A week has past since his failure, a week has past since he lost her, his one love, his beaming soul, and the memory struck him as rocks a canvas and images flushed through his mind madly in turmoil. The recollection of him, that insipid warrior, his Sylvia in his arms, anger stroke within Sarian's soul as he was helpless at the time, prevented by casting with Sylvia in way.

Lightning struck the passes of Thorbodin then, Sarian traveled with cover of shadows, the lightning echoed through the Thorbodin halls, and his glance didn't shift from upon the huge gates. With each step the thundering voices followed from above, Sarian recalled his Trial, bitter, the prosecutor laying his accusations, he recalled the pale shivering body tumble falling at his feet struck by lightning. He recalled the engulfing silence as he stepped out through the halls the crowd clearing; his final punishment banished with shame. But none of it mattered now, he was to leave, and find her, and all will be well, she will be his, and his return shall come glorious.

Sarian curled a tiny smile, and with a quick reach to the depths of his robes he pulled a tiny crystal bared jewel a tiny woman image formed in turmoil, her youthful appearance reflected within innocent eyes.

"Sylvia! My love… all shall soon be well, I will return you to me, I will forgive you for your sin, you will once more be mine!" Sarian whispered halting his step the deep voice cracking as the image within the orb vanished and white clear took its place. The dark cloaked man tucked the tiny orb within the depth of his cloak shroud, and with an easy step took heed toward the locked gates.

Sarian shifted his steps, his focus intent, he noticed two approaching guards, one a Thorbodin dwarf, once proud and powerful of the dwarven races, now a low and casted race from the depths of the hidden mountain.  Beside the dwarf came a human warrior, seemingly an assassin and head of guard by his scars and crone looks. Sarian hissed with disgust as the two images neared him. He noticed the two archers taking hide in the mountain pass folding, and the lining of guards still at the entrance tower.

"They knew I was coming!" Sarian hissed his mind still in drive, as the two head guards came to block his way.

"Out of my way Zarkgrak!" The Thorbodin dwarf shivered hearing his name hissed with threat by the cloaked man, but he took a blocking step and with a powered ax supported by a lance shift he came upon Sarian his eyes daring.

"We can't do that dark mage, a storm is raging and orders say…"

"Orders say you let me pass now or you will wish the storm struck right into that helmet!" Sarian snapped at the dwarf mumbling stumbled back his brow drawing a sweat and dire respect sparkled within his eyes as his voice came to fail him. Sarian prepared to take another step foreword but his step was met by halt as a blade rose blocking his neck.

"Orders say you aren't going anywhere mage! And I don't care if slitting your throat will come to resign that thought, but you aren't moving on my post in aye years!" That was the human talking, the accent resembled the striking people of Phantalas, suburb places in most. The man was scared deeply across the face, a cutting slice scar driving to the once sight-ful eye, and the forehead carved with burns as well as the neck and shoulder mark.

Sarian turned his glance repellent by the sight, at with a calm gesture turned to face the human with glance movement removing one of his components from a compartment in his sleeve.

"I'd pull that blade off soldier, or you'll carve that thing in ice." Sarian whispered easy his step tilting back slowly.

"Ice now? What about I carve it into your throat instead!"The warrior smirked an ugly grin and Sarian his eyes dead serious threw another step back the warrior maintaining his blade hold. Sarian brought the spell to memory, his hand clutching the valuable spell component, and with a last step and a spell in mind he blinked easily and stared once more at the twisted face.

"You are pathetic, soldier! You don't have the strength within you to even strike me within your timing, and now, grievous as it is, you will die!" The scared faced man released a laugh but then was struck by surprise as he heard the snake hissing words spat by the mage, and suddenly with the shift of thin air the dark mage leaped back with a step completing his spell.

The soldier tried to return strike as he leaped foreword to end the Mage's life within his spell but he was struck by so much more. Sarian finishing his spell in wind charge was shifted back and a cloud of frost rose taking his form. The human soldier was struck by pain as his weapon drove the frost into his hand through steel and the warrior released the weapon with a shriek as he tumbled to the ground. The Soldiers face grew darker still as his fall came to a strike as within the foggy mist the Dark mage leaped foreword a light sword in charge. The sword pierced as hot needles through butter and the warrior pale grasped his side, as the sword pulled out, and he fell at Sarian's feet. Sarian settled a light one-handed sword at hand, the handle twisted around his griping hand in shape of a Tiger's claw.  He heard the snapping of the bowstring and with a quick turn his focus turned he glanced up beyond the mountainside his sword in sheath just as quick as he pulled it. The arrows from the mountain curves flew with a whistle, and Sarian with easy focus felt the power of the storm engulf him. He dodged the dwarven crooked swing turning with a leap his robes tilting, and landing strong on his feet he gestured circling with his arms two arrows landing behind him.

The next strike of arrows came upon the mage, just as Sarian completed his spell. Wind formed within his gripping hands and with a turning gesture agile and quick he as if caught the arrow in mid air with a wind entrapment without touch, and redirected them at the charging dwarf behind him. The Thorbodin Dwarf fell, 5 arrows driven his chest and skull enforced by the wind power his weapon lying in the mud. Sarian managed to recover from his spell with an easy landing foot, but the arrows came flying in pairs, and one of them struck him right on the thigh piercing through his flesh.

The mage hissed in pain driving the arrow out with a cry, and with a turn he reached once more to his components the arrows still whistling by his ear, and with a fury touch he launched the blood stained arrow enforced by the still commanding wind. The arrow driven through the wind, and in mid air with the dark Mage completing his spell the arrow engulfed in flame, and with upon striking the mountain walls, gave explosion shattering the rocks below, the air cleared from arrows. Sarian tried then tired to balance up on his good foot eyeing the reinforcements following through he mountain pass. He cursed another spell coming to mind, he struck one foots man with a lightning bolt, sizzling his throat with electrifying power, he prepared to strike another summoning his forces, but then a disturbance struck him, and Sarian's focus for once shifted uncomforted.

Another presence struck his mind, stronger in mind, the words vanished with force, and the power in his fingertips vanished as well. Sarian managed to pull his sword hilt and strike aside a clumsily swung war hammer, striking the guard off his feet, but then his force and unbalanced strike brought his fall. He felt the grasping charging arms drag him against the wall his spine released a crack, and then, there was silence.

A dark skinned man entered with a heavy step, bodyguards beside him. He was tall, his muscles wide and tanned, his shoulders in width of match to a Minotaur's, hinting of superior strength. His chest was bare and fur ran across hi shoulders connecting with the man's cape which was a wolf's jaw casting a shadow upon the dark face only revealing two deep praying eyes within. The halls were silent with his passing, and the two bodyguards beside the tall brute took halt battle axes in and, their gaze fixed upon the dark cloaked man.

"Phirox Firebane?" Sarian mumbled astonished his breath hard.

"Well! It seems you remember me for the least, since you seemed to have forgotten your place," The tall fur covered man snapped his words hissing as he watched Sarian his back pinned against the wall, arms spread. Sarian fell his arms stretched hard to his sides, his lungs aching for air. He closed his eyes as he felt the rain of pain striking him with the legs and fists busting his lungs, he bit his lip hard not to scream, and the taste of blood soon filled his cheeks as the fists kept hammering at him.

"Enough!" Phirox stepped heavily upon the beat body the two mused gladiators drawing aside. Sarian gave a weak glance up as the heavy shadow was cast mixing with his dark robes, blood washed freely from his mouth. The dark clouds above gathered closer sheltering the sun's touch, and Phirox his step still laying slow, drew a large crude dagger in his grasp with the skull hilt and the grip of a snake's skin.

"Sarian! My boy, I had such fate for you, you fought for me, advised me, even bled for me, and I gave you my daughter's hand in return for your vow! And how you repay me? You lose her to a human renegade, and if not enough, you now try to escape me?!?" Sarian released a horrifying scream as he suddenly found the powerful dagger stricken in his palm well aimed by Phirox, striking through flesh and bone, pinning Sarian's hand to the wooden planks behind him. Phirox curled a smile at Sarian's painful shriek, and drew a sword, the blade flashed as the lightning striking above the mountaintop. He passed the sword low under the frail mage's chin to face him and teasing threateningly passed the huge sword tautly across his chest the blade flickering, and with each movement causing Sarian to try releasing his arm the cut slashed wider across the pierced hand. Phirox then with a quick pull jerked the skull blade free, returning it blood stained to his belt. Sarian fell his hand in grasp; he eyed the wound, scared forever.

"A mistake obviously!" Phirox released a taunting whisper. Blood streamed freely from Sarian's wound, the bone penetrating the flesh. Sarian then again felt the shadow cast upon him, he wanted to scream, fight back, but his magic was weak, his hatred derived his forces leaving him exhausted, and wounded to the core.

"Oh dear Sarian, such disgrace, you disgraced your vow to your loved one, disgraced yourself, and if not worse enough, you disgrace me! But no worry, I'm known to be quite merciful." Laughter rose kinely with those remarks quickly silenced with Phirox's glaring stare.

"Well, maybe not, but I will give you a chance to prove yourself once more, and return my daughter." Sarian stared up gasping, his words tumbling with his thoughts he managed to release nothing more than a whisper.

"I will not fail you my liege!" Sarian managed to gasp hardly blood staining his lips running streaming to his darkened robes.

"No, you will not fail me Mage! You will return my daughter for I have my own plans to attend too, and remember this…" Phirox kneeled beside the mage his words whispering he took hold of the man's neck hissing words as venom.

"Remember my boy, every moment you waste, another man caresses your loved one, hearing her voice, feeling her breath, touching her skin, kissing her lips." Sarian released an cry, furious charging forth, but he fell the breath sucked away from his lungs as Phirox quite accurate struck him down with a low knee. Sarian toppled down hard, gasping for air, but only tasted blood and he coughed hard as Phirox released his grip tossing the crushed mage to the ground.

"Remember Sarian, no one fails me twice!" and with that, the tall shadow cast away and Phirox with a last glance releasing a last taunting laugh, he vanished around the dark corridors leaving the struggling mage to himself. Sarian laid moments still; he crawled his lungs bursting reaching for the depths of his robes. He pulled a small orb, glowing reflections within the glass figure, and an image formed within the glass. A woman, her face as moon silk, no worries washed upon her, untouched by the darkness within his own soul, Sarian grasped the image with tears as it faded dusky.

"Sylvia!" the mage whispered his eyes watering, the pain was gone for a moment, but with the vanishing image returned the anger and darkening pain.

"You will be mine Sylvia Nightshade, Mine! And those in my way shall die, the renegade first!" Sarian whispered mad fitted and glared across the darkness.

"And you Phirox Firebane!" Sarian switched his glance to the empty halls where the brute vanished.

"When I return! I will have your head on a plank!" The mage released a caugh, blood gauging bursting within his lungs. He stared down at his wounded hand, the wound was part of him now, he angled the bloody wound still bleeding furiously, and with a snatch his closed his hand, the crackling bones cutting into his flesh. Blood washed violently and splashed to the ground below, washing at the mage's knees. He released a scream the pain engulfing him, he hoped to faint with the pain, let the darkness engulf him, but the pain didn't leave, and instead he felt the energy coarse through him with the pain. Sarian derived his focus, and with a whisper, he faded, and finally vanished, the shadows engulfing him with the darkness of his cloth. 

Amongst the trail in darkness of night with the approaching storm, Phirox Firebane stepped heavily between the rocks. He eyed the bodies stricken by Sarian's spells; he spat with disgust and with a passing hand eyed his two guards.

"Well you fools! Clear this up!" The two guards offered nothing but turning carrying the stricken bodies as Phirox turned upon the trail once more. Phirox's mind was wandering; he drew the powered dagger and eyed the blood still washed upon it. He spat and with a passing on his boot he cleaned the stained dagger and leaned forth placing the skull blade back in his boot hill. Another shadow was cast in the corridor then, Phirox glanced aside and gave notice to the armor-clad figure approaching with a tuned step, and he gave a nod as he turned.

"Lenard Thornblade, my general!" The figure emerged from the shadows. The ancient symbols bared his armor, the skull and lily, a knight of Takhisis, his step was proud and certain darkness followed within him. To his hilt was a powerful two handed sword carved with the dark rose, two daggers accompanied to his sides, and the breastplate revealed the high position amongst his knight order. His face was grave, blank and serious, revealing nothing, bound within honor and self-righteousness; he stood before Phirox his long hair weaving.

"Sire, you summoned me?" The knight's voice was deep and direct; he didn't shudder as most people did addressing the powered brute.

"Indeed I have! Knight, how is the training coming along?"

"As well as to be expected sire, the troops shall be ready for march within short weeks." Lenard answered directly standing strong.

"Very well, you've done well knight, nothing shall interfere with my plans, we will soon come to notice upon Krynn!" The knight nodded easily his attention fastened.

"Now speaking of interruptions. What can you tell me of this? Renegade, who escaped with my daughter?" Phirox hissed the words his anger boiling through his bones as a blazing flame staring at the knight before him.

"This man you search for, his name is Jatson Shadowglade, we served together when I left the knighthood." Lenard lowered his gaze to avoid Phirox's penetrating gaze and he eyed the old symbols upon his breastplate and he rose his gaze staring forth.

"A partner?" Phirox wandered his anger subsiding.

"A comrade, Yes!" Lenard replied directly. Phirox wandered at the thought, he studied the knight once more his mind in turmoil.

"Very interesting knight, is this, mercenary, is he a threat to me?" Phirox pressed a question.

"He is no direct threat sire, he is a mercenary though, you might have the trouble of tracking him down." Lenard replied carefully shifting his balance from leg to leg.

"Will that be all, sire?" Lenard asked maintaining a firm voice.

"No, not quite, I have a new assignment for you Lenard. You will join a pursuit to find my daughter."

"But what of the troops sire…?"

"Do not matter the troops, I shall take care of them and soon engage them in field, you will find my daughter, and bring me Jatson's head on a spike!" Lenard rose a brow, he passed a quick hand brushing his hair back still focused.

"What of the Mage?"

"Sarian? He is powerful, but unexpected, therefore dangerous, if you come upon him. Kill him!" Phirox gathered his cloak as he spat his last orders, tracing forth he drew his massive body past the knight who stood still his stance still proud.

"Last thing sire. What of the fallen ones, the ones stricken by the mage, I believe a proper burial shall take place to honor their fall"

"Honor their fall? They died Knight, nothing to honor in that, they failed themselves, not a second will be wasted on such matters! we will burn the bodies with sunrise, the vultures give them fate." Lenard gulped with unease with these words and took a short step in front of Phirox, the brute carrying almost a head above him.

"Sir, I still believe they have fallen in honor of service and that…"

"Lenard, I told you once, and will tell you again, no such nonsense such as honor standards shall step my camp. I keep you for your strength, if I come to believe to believe you have weakened, I shall kill you. Now not another word of this, you have a mission to attend, do not fail me!"

"Yes… Sire… I shall not fail you!" Lenard mumbled his eyes darkening avoiding Phirox's penetrating gaze.

"Very well knight, you are dismissed, and remember…. No one will stand in my way Lenard, no one, Ansalon will soon know of my plans, and these renegades will be set example of, and you my general, shall teach them that lesson, again.. DO NOT FAIL ME!" Phirox turned to leave his cloak gathering the first drops of rain began to drop and the man vanished within the heart of the mountain.

Lenard stood in the midst of the raging storm rain washed upon his figure. He stared to the horizon and with a step he drew past the gates and upon the path his step heavy, and he found himself whispering himself through the night with every step.

"I will not fail, I will return your daughter, and Jatson Shadowglade will be bestowed final honors." The knight rose his sword the rain washing his hair back, he gave a tiny salute to the darkness behind him and with sheathing his sword stepping toward the closed gates, and he vanished within the stormy night.

there we wrap up Chapter IV in continuation to the Silvermoon Journyes, please express your thoughts in the Silvermoon Guest Book, and hope you enojoyed it and have yet to continue to Chapter V, Fizban's Curse, where the twist of events is enwrapped into mystery webs.  Thanks for reading and ENJOY!!!

Advance the to Index Page: