Mannan’s head jerked up in disbelief. The spell book he was reading fell from numb hands to the table with a thud. The fields of magic that bound him to this place flared with power. Power that he’d not felt for a very, very long time.
The High Draiolc, the Dark’s own sorcerer, stood in shock and consternation. His anger began to grow. As it did, his face and body transformed from one visage and physique to another. For a moment, he was thin and old, with wispy hair and wrinkled face. Next, he was a handsome, robust young man. He shifted through four seemings as he struggled for mental balance.
He turned from the table and strode to the three-legged wooden stand that dominated the north side of his workspace. He whipped the silk covering off of a giant crystal ball the size of a dinner plate. The covering drifted to the floor as he settled his fingertips on either side of the crystal. He closed his eyes and waited for his will to activate the energy within it.
Slowly the crystal warmed. He opened his eyes and stared into the crystal. He pictured his minion whom he had corrupted in the town outside of Red Dragon’s Keep. With a snap of his mind like a whip, he sent his thoughts toward the man. He felt the connection grab and the man recoil in fear. He surrounded the man’s thoughts and took over his body. He looked out at the dimly lit tavern filled with villagers taking their mid-meal.
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