The Dread Wizard Valel Hex was a
woman who’s ambition was to shroud the world in darkness. A powerful spell
caster her will was made manifest, and hundreds of soldiers and adventurers
alike found the last sound before their death to be her malicious cackle. Truly
there was not a greater wickedness than the Dread Wizard Hex, and all who
suffered under her power spoke silent secret prayers to her untimely end.
Luckily for them, she died.
It’s not quite clear what killed Valel,
likely stories tell of two bands, adventurers seemingly, coming together to
unleash their might but doubled. The ring of the clash between them and Valel
was heard across the realm, the story goes, until the two bands drew out the wretched
Wizard’s very soul, leaving her nothing more than a husk. There,
the two bands rested in the Dread Wizards labyrinth, the source of her power,
and were never seen again.
Not that people didn’t try, once a labyrinth
of madness full of dangers and numerous tragic ends for those foolish enough to
venture forth, the once great lair of Valel Hex was now a dusty old ruin,
ravaged by time and adventurers and treasure hunters seeking a fortune in boon
and magical items. It wasn’t much more than a home for a particularly
unagreeable band of Goblins. The once mighty palace to despair and home of
Valel’s sinister machinations… now the stomping ground of some pint sized
ruffians. A century since the woman’s death and few even speak her name
anymore, not with fear anyway, she is a ghost story, a boogeyman for
disobedient children, a lost relic of the ever cruel nature of time.
However, let it not be said that none
of Valel’s power still reside in her lair… Though time may wither at all things
a labyrinth is still a labyrinth, and a Wizard’s labyrinth is something more
still. The traps that protected the halls still have a lethal bite and the
corridors still twist and wind so that there is still stone untouched in a
centuries passed. The Labyrinth of Valel Hex still draws in those seeking
fortune, and Valel’s body count does continue to grow even after her own
demise. What fool would it take to enter this space and risk their life for a
chance to find whatever baubles lay unplundered?
“I am a fool.” The woman said dryly. “And I should not be
here.”
Her name was Madrona, and she had
been stuck in this damned tomb for the better part of two days. It was funny, Tromping
around these stone hallways barely avoiding pressure plates and trip wires and of
course the blasted magic glyphs that activated no matter where you stood or how
silently you moved! Really, it was a laugh riot… She could almost hear his
laughter from the Hells. At this point she didn’t even care about the job she
was on, foolish venture as it was, she just wanted out of this place! Who cared
that some goblins knocked over some ‘Emporium of Mystery’? So they had some
cheap trinkets and the shop keep loses a pittance in revenue…
But what’s a Inferni to do? It’s
hard enough to find a town that didn’t assume Madrona was a Devil on sight,
hard to live in this world with red skin and ridged black horns curving along
your scalp to fine points, assumptions get made quickly for most but for Madrona?
Instant. Hells some of the other Infernal Touched get pink skin, or blue skin, some
have less, how to put it, aggressive looking horns, some don’t have eyes that
glow like dull embers… And some don’t have a spade tail that tails out from
your backside that forces you to buy specialty tailored pants for your entire
life!
Focus.
Yes, some of the Infernal Touched
souls on this plane don’t look so much like a literal Devil, but Madrona did. Sharp
features, chin, eyes, the corners of her lips. Even her gaze was sharp and all
laid upon a svelte figure. Not helping was her normal attire of a black leather
corset over a silken red tunic, straight leg trousers leading to black leather
riding boots, and all wrapped in a black furred cloak, she wasn’t exactly hiding
herself. So she was quite surprised when the town she had wandered into earlier
this week was, modestly at least, welcoming of her. It put her in a pleasant
mood, well, a less dour mood than normal. She still sneered somewhat when the little
Halfling man, the owner of the aforementioned ‘Emporium’ approached her at the café
she was frequenting that afternoon.
‘Scuse me, madam’. He started, and Madrona knew at that
moment he was going to ask for something.
“Yes?” She said dully placing a book she had been reading on
the table, doing her best to stifle an audible sigh. Was it this town’s way to
interrupt a person during their noon tea? Perhaps she should not stick around
after all.
“Yes hello there I’m Gilbert, Gilbert Hofferound, and I
happen to be the proprietor of the Emporeum of Mystery right over yonder.” He
raised a walking stick and gestured down the street. Madronas gaze lifted for a
moment, seeing an extravagant sign over a stop window, a barren window.
“Seems your low on stock, Gil.” She said, glancing back down
at her book.
“Yes well that’s what I wanted to to get in contact with you
about. See, last night these Goblins came around and, well…” He stammered.
“They robbed you, the goblins. Tragedy” Madrona finished,
eyes snapping back to the man as she sipped from her tea. “Not entirely sure
why you’re coming to the new girl in town about that. Seems more a job for the
town guard, maybe the sheriff? Do you have a sheriff here? I wouldn’t know
because I’m new, but you’re not so you should know already.”
“Well yeah but ya see, well, I got this eye for folk.” He
stated. Madrona grimaced. “No really I do!” He then proceeded to reach up and
pull his eye out from the socket.
Madrona was suddenly no longer
interested in her tea. It took a moment to see that it was simply a glass eye
that he had removed.
“It’s magic, ya see, well… You don’t, but I do, I see
magic.” The Halfling leaned in to her, popping the false eye back in. “And I
see a magic in you.” His words came in hushed whispers now. “I can see yer not no
Wizard. Wizard magic is all up in their head, Sorcerer is in the heart, Druids
got their magic in their hands and feet, Bards got it in their tongues, lungs,
or their fingers… No, your magic don’t come from inside you, it’s all mingled
and twisted up in your soul!”
Madrona stared at the man coldly, a
quizzical eyebrow raising to the man, underneath the table her hand clenched
tightly around the hilt of her dagger.
“I’m Inferni, Touched, some Devil from the Three Hells
messed with my family line an age and a half ago and I came out with red skin
and horns. We all Touched have some magic in us, even the Celesti and Elems.
Celestials, Elementals, Devils, get too close to the outer planes and your
child comes out Touched, nothing mysterious.” She stated, leaving her free hand
at the man dismissively.
“Nah. Seen plenty of touched in my day. Even seen a Demos…
They got magic in em, yeah, but its in their skin… Inferni got skin that roils
like fire, Celesti got skin that cracks like dried mud, straining to hold the
radiant light in, Elem’s swirl with their element, and Demos just steam with an
unbridled fury in em. I see your roiling skin, the heat comin off your devil
flesh. I see something else though. I know what you are, and I ain’t planning
on tellin no one, not their business. Won’t even tell them if you said no to my
offer, swear it on my dear departed mother’s eternal spirit. But I want my
product back, and what you is is what I need. You say yes, I’ll put you up in
an empty apartment I happen to own in this town, completely free for as long as
you want it.” He stood there for a long moment, waiting for a response.
“…Free?”
And here she was.
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