Knaak, Richard A. - Diablo 06 - Legacy of Blood by Knaak Richard A

Author:Knaak, Richard A. [Knaak, Richard A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sf_fantasy
ISBN: 0-7434-2312-7| 978-0-7434-2312-0
Publisher: POCKET BOOKS
Published: 2002-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

"My name is Drognan," the cloaked mage remarked as he swept into the chamber. "Please be seated, Norrec Vizharan."

As he gazed around the Vizjerei's sanctum, the sense of unease that had crept over Norrec earlier returned a thousand times stronger. Not only had this elderly but certainly formidable figure drawn the veteran to him with ease, but Drognan understood well exactly what had happened to Norrec-including the quest by the cursed armor.

"I always knew that the curse of Bartuc could not be contained forever," he informed Norrec as the soldier seated himself in an old, weathered chair. "Always knew that."

They had come to this dim chamber after a short trek into even less savory areas of the otherwise rich, energetic kingdom. The doorway through which the pair had entered had seemed to have led into an abandoned, ratinfested building, but once through, the interior had shifted… transforming into an ancient but still stately edifice which Drognan informed him had once been rumored to be the home of Horazon, the bloody warlord's brother.

It had been abandoned at some point long after the disappearance of Bartuc's brother, but the spells protecting it from curious eyes had continued to serve their designated purpose-until Drognan had outwitted them while searching for the tomb of the very one who had cast them. Deciding that no one had a more appropriate right to lay claim to the magical abode than himself, the Vizjerei had moved in, then continued his research.

Through an empty hall whose floor had been coveredin a rich tapestry of mosaic patterns that included animals, warriors, and even legendary structures, they had finally reached this particular room, the one that the old mage most called his home. Shelf upon shelf bordered the walls and on each of those shelves had been arranged more books and scrolls than a simple soldier such as Norrec could have ever dreamed existed in all the world. He could read, but few of the titles had been written in the common tongue.

Other than the books, though, only a few other items decorated the shelves, among the most interesting being a single polished skull and a few jars of a dark colored liquid. As for the room itself, its decor consisted chiefly of a well-crafted wooden table and two old but stately chairs. It had all the look of a chamberlain's office such as might have been found in the sultan's palace. Hardly what Norrec would have expected from a Vizjerei or any other sorcerer for that matter. Like most common folk, he had expected to see all sorts of horrifying and grisly objects, the so-called tools of Drognan's trade.

"I am a… researcher," the wrinkled figure added suddenly, as if he needed to explain his surroundings.

A researcher who had been the reason why no guards had stopped Norrec on the dock. A researcher who, with but a simple use of his power, had seized the minds of a half dozen soldiers and directed them to bring the foreigner to him.

A

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