The Hall of Doors

Reise shrugged as if the Verdish merchant's behavior wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He had been expecting some sort of reaction after Severos had thoughtlessly displayed his powers in front of a whole tavern full of people. Had the lad's fancy magical college not taught its students anything about discretion? He noticed Severos was visibly trembling from the incident and Orla had hunched her small, slender shoulders, feeling the electricity of the man's passionate hate. To her empathic senses it was almost like a physically violent thing.

Reise frowned uneasily at his two vulnerable companions, knowing a bigoted hot head was nothing compared to what terrible fiends they would surely encounter in the Dalen Remnant. There they would be in constant danger from roving bands of petty warlords, not to mention all the demonic beasts that had come to inhabit the place. Not for the first time he weighed the thought of letting Severos try to fix his own stupid mistake, but Orla would never hear of it. Truth be told, he couldn't turn his back on Severos either.

Besides, if Kelmoran got loose there would be no safe place for them in all this world. The mad lich was frighteningly powerful and seemed to bear a grudge against Orla's people who he had accused of abandoning and using him for their cause. Knowing Avara, Maelwin, and the others as well as he did, Reise had no doubt they had done just that. They had ruthlessly used and manipulated everyone. They in fact had been bred to do just that for the Being and if not for the grief it caused Orla, he would be glad of her whole damned race being now extinct. There was enough pain and misery in Aeran that it didn't need anyone actively stoking chaos. This was a world already teetering on the brink of a dark age with the Iron Queen on the march and the High Church of Sarnia ever expanding its power and influence over the land. All told, Kelmoran returning was the last thing anyone needed.

As if sharing his thoughts, Severos breathed a shaky sigh before saying, “We should be going.”

Reise finished his ale and set down his mug before giving his response. “Folkstan's Keep is a rough place, but compared to the rest of the Remnant it's an oasis of civilisation. I think I can...” He paused as he noticed the same man from before, pushing his way quickly through the crowd coming in their direction. “Oh great. Not him again.”

“Draken resides in the Dalen ruins!” the man shouted hysterically, charging up to their table. “Draken resides in the Dalen ruins!”

“What the hell?!” Reise said, taken off guard by the man's deranged manner.

“What do you know of Draken?” Severos asked, standing up shakily.

“Draken resides in the Dalen ruins,” the man answered, repeating himself.

“Oh my!” Orla gasped, seeing the man's forehead and the magical brand that had been freshly burned into it.

Severos guessed that she was looking at something they could not with her highly perceptive faerie sight. He cast a quick detect magic spell and in a few moments he too saw the mark of the Betrayed.

“That is demonic magic,” the young mage observed.

“I have been marked by a demon?” the merchant asked, horrified.

“Yes, and the brand is feeding on your soul,” Severos told him.

“Oh no, nooo!” he wailed, tears falling from his eyes as stunned silence descended over the tavern.

“Gods, is this the same thing as with Joseph?” Reise asked.

“No, 'tis not so powerful a curse,” Orla said, feeling sorry for the poor man and knowing there was nothing she could do to help him.

“Who did this to you? Was it Draken?” Severos screamed, suddenly flying into yet another rage. He seized the merchant by the collar, but just then the city watch returned and grabbed a hold of the man, taking him back into custody.

Reise laid a friendly hand on Severos's arm and drew him away from the guards before the mage did something they might all regret. It was well he did for in that moment the young mage thought nothing of killing the two guards with a spell. Severos was pulled back just in time. He regained his senses once more and felt horrified at his thought process.

"Come, let us go," he said, breathless. "I must collect my things, before we are to travel." Severos laid his coin on the table, overpaying in his hurry. He set off immediately for the door, wanting to be away from the Golden Oak where he had been made a fool of by a disguised Shade. His eyes scanned the shadows for the demon thief to no avail. He cursed silently to himself before making for his hut.

Reise stopped Severos. “Where are you going? We can get back to your place the same way we came from there to here.”

Putting a key into the door lock, he half-dragged Severos through the rear exit of the tavern, which through inexplicable means led directly back into Severos’ hut. Reise and Orla stood there staying out of the way as Severos manically packed. “I hope he knows to travel light,” he whispered to Orla. “I don’t want to help lug around...well luggage.”

When Severos returned with just a single sack slung over his back, much to Reise's relief, the three walked down a long corridor lined with doors of which no two were the same. Orla had been here before but it never got any less strange. She instinctively sensed the place did not exist in any normal sense of the term.

“Eeny, meeny, miny, mo,” Reise said under his breath, looking between the doors.

“Is that an incantation?” Severos asked.

“Huh? Yeah, that’s right,” Reise said, only half listening as he reached out and chose a fancy looking door to open.

Beyond was a grand hall where a tapestry prominently hung. He recognised the Soldor coat of arms. The three walked through and he quietly shut the door behind them, withdrawing the key.

“I don’t know if this is Folkstan's Keep, but it’s definitely Dalen,” Reise said, looking around and sincerely hoping no one was home.