Dread Mage

The man sat in the cell.

After another day of unsuccessful experiments on him, he was ushered back into what had been his home for the past few months.

There was no hope until he saw the twinkle of red in the darkness.

He saw the same twinkle shine now as the same two red orbs revealed themselves from the darkness, though never fully stepping out of the shadows.

"What is your name, Hireling?"

"I am Vellichor, also known as the Dread Mage."

"It is strange to see a non-irath so deep in their heartland, and even stranger to see one stand before me while being kept in something I can only think of as one of their cloesly guarded secrets. How did you come to be here?" He asked.

"It is a long story, and now is not the right time," Vell said. "Instead, tell me in turn who you are."

The man rose, standing at full height, over a head taller than Vell, and he looked at the mage through the bars of the cell.

"I am Bachram of Simeria. And I have promised to share my knowledge with you, Vellichor."

"There are only a few things I want to know, Bachram. Why don't you tell me how you came to be here?" Vell asked. "What does the Irath want from you?"

"The same thing they want from everyone here. To learn the art of fleshcrafting. They take people from all over the world, warp them into beasts, and then leave them to die when they outlive their use." Backram said as he cluched the iron bars.

Vell put a hand to his chin and said, "You seem like a prime subject. How come they haven't deformed you yet?"

"My people and I are hardy. Unlike many creatures in this world, mana cannot enter our being. So we have none, and it cannot be forced inside. I cannot be manipulated for the needs of the irath."

"What for? What's the use of all of this suffering for the irath?"

"To make them stronger, of course. Their main weakness is their weak bodies. Being a master of wizardry can only get you so far against the edge of cold steel. Only through luck did they manage to capture me. If they had stayed on the battlefield for a moment longer, then my tribe would have overcome the emotionless wizards and saved me. What about you, Vellichor? Have you come to rescue me?"

"It depends. Can you tell me if there has recently been an influx of humans for the... 'needs' of the mages here?"

The simerian didn't have to think long about it. "Yes, just last month. And the irath has been busy since. I cannot imagine that there are many left."

"Are they cells close by?"

"I do not know. This dungeon is a labyrinth, and I have seen little of it."

Vell was in deep thought, and one of those thoughts was that he had to return here with Sonder. She would be the one to decide if the humans here would be from her village or her family.

They could have already been dead or be one of the twisted creatures that he had seen not long ago.

"I have a plan," the Dread Mage finally said. "I shall return this night and free you. Do you think you are able to kill all the irathy here?"