The story below first began at the R.I.T. campus in 1992. At that time there was part of their intranet a space for putting up stories. I didn't start it. It was started September 12th 1992 and ran on and off (as far as I know) until December 12th 1993 there. Many people contributed to the story but I don't know there names. But in the spirit of giving credit where credit is due I do have their id's from the intranet. They are RGV9488, MRM2399, WET2006, DAG7571, ZEM6539, GKB3790, TES5716, CJW3890 and of course me. I left R.I.T. in'93 so I don't know if anybody picked up the story but by the time I left I was the only one working on it. So the first half was written by the forementioned the other half was written by me.
This is the first part of the story called Book I. It is long and I recommend downloading the whole story by clicking on the file you want to download.
So on with the story....
(Throat-clearing noise)
It was an incident of some pondering toward the end of the Age that created the book in his hand. The elderly man cautiously opened the pages, careful not to rip the ancient paper. He took in a deep breath upon reading the first words in the ancient cryptic language.
He closed it quickly, his lips quivering with the difficult syllables. What a fool he had been. Letting out a rasping cough, Greytan returned the weathered book to the shelf, hoping courage would allow him to try again someday.
Grunting against the pain in his arthritic joints, he laboriously climbed down the step ladder. He gazed at the numerous books neatly lined against the wall. He had read them all several times, except for the one he just returned to the shelf. Some undefinable evil kept him from the runes in the ancient book of darkness. Shuddering once more, he slowly hobbled back to the front of the store.
Greytan eased his way into the chair before the large mahogany desk. He took a quill pen and wrote in his journal, the fine script belied his gnarled, old hands. A moment before he finished, the bell to the front of the store rang as someone entered. He looked up and saw her smiling back at him. . .
"May I help you?" he asked.
"Yes, I am looking for a special book."
"And what book may that be?" he replied.
She stared and smiled at him, much like a dragon smiles at its lunch, "The book is titled 'The Black Tome of Arischonn', and you will give it to me."
"I am sorry, I cannot." he said in a regretful tone, "That book was entrusted to me, and I cannot allow it to be loosed upon the world again!"
"Old man, you don't seem to realize..." She spoke, as her eyes began to glow with a demonic sheen "... you have no choice in the matter."
Greytan stood up, his age seeming to melt away in his anger.
"Bah, you think I was entrusted with the book for no reason? Begone now, or I will see you out myself!" so saying, he reached into his garb, and drew forth a shiny silver-tipped wand.
Pointing it at the woman, he began to chant in a low voice and the woman began to wail in a high pitched soprano voice. She wailed higher and higher until the walls and ceilings began to tremble and shake. And then, a pretty impressive and unexpected thing happened. A small calico cat leapt up from the stool next to the door at the woman's neck only to meet up with the cold steel of her chain necklace. The cat fell off, disgruntled, and sat there hissing up at the woman. The woman picked the cat up . Unfortunately forgetting about the old fellow with the wand, who just finished the incantation for its use. The effects were stunning. Unfortunately, at least for Greytan, the woman was not affected at all.
She rose up, and with a large, circular wave of her arm, fired a volley of magical arrows at the poor old man and with speed, surprising considering his appearances, he dived through the doorway back to the other room, chanting the words to activate the warding runes between the two rooms. The magical bursts struck a nearby bookshelf, sending pages of manuscripts flying through the air. The few aimed at the doorway, however, bounced harmlessly off of Greytan's protective runes.
The woman took one look at the shimmering blue aura of the doorway, then a smile crept across her face.
"The back door..." she mumbled, spinning on her heel and booted the cat out of the way in her rush for the door.
The street was more or less deserted, most of the day's shoppers having already left. The woman darted into the nearby alley and dashed toward the rear of the store, skirting the piles of refuse that dotted the ground. She reached the rear door just in time to see the edge of Greytan's cloak disappear over the lip of a building's roof close by.
"You can run old man," she cried out, "but I will find you!"
Tellar was talking with Scourge in low tones at the bar. They were rather close to the back door.
"Scourge, you know the idea is crazy, even if we got in and made it to the room, we'd never make it out!"
"Tellar, you just need more faith in luck, if we make it past..."
At this point the back door flew open, and Greytan charged in,
holding a book at his side and breathing hard. He quickly moved to the table with Scourge and Tellar, and tried not to notice all of the odd looks he was getting.
"Scourge, they've found me, and I can't think of anyone else that can help...."
"Greytan, old friend. Calm down," Scourge said in soothing tones, "Now, who found you?"
"The Jakaar," he said, nervously peering over his shoulder into the far corners of the bar.
"Nonsense," Scourge said, leaning back in his chair and taking another sip of his drink. ""The Jakaar haven't been seen around this city for years, rumor has it they packed up and headed for the Southlands."
"She wore their crest," Greytan said, his voice grew faster. "On the medallion around her neck, the crossed spears and the red eye! I saw it, I tell you. She was one of them!"
"Uh-oh Boss, trouble." Tellar motioned toward the door of the bar with a twitch of his head. As the door opened a sharp blast of cold air blew in, followed by a woman and a huge man.
"God help us, it's her!" Greytan hissed as he leaned back into the darkness.
"Calm down," Scourge said, eyeing the pair who were already
scanning the faces at the tables. "We don't have much time." He
grabbed the wrist of a passing barmaid, pulling her close and whispering into her ear. She looked behind her, then nodded glumly as Scourge pressed something into her hand.
"Get ready," he said as she disappeared into the kitchen.
Moments later she headed back out, carrying a tray heavily laden with plates of food and mugs of ale. She headed straight for the couple at the door, then stumbled.
"Meet me at the inn, now GO!" Scourge hissed, shoving Greytan
toward the back door.
The timing was perfect. Greytan slipped out the back at the precise moment the tray of food collided with the pair. They had seen nothing.
"Now we make our exit," Scourge said, dropping a silver piece on the worn oaken tabletop. They walked straight out, pausing momentarily to stare at the woman who was reprimanding the poor barmaid who was trying to clean them off with her apron. For a moment their eyes locked, and Scourge shivered.
In her eyes he say only death.
"Come on, boss! Let's go," Tellar cried urgently, "Boss? What's wrong?"
After a moment Scourge, finally snapping out of his trance, replied, "By the gods! Did you see her eyes? She had me paralyzed with that stare. It was horrible. I've never seen such evil ... never ..."
He trailed off as Tellar virtually dragged him out the door.
Greytan sat at one of the tables deep in thought. "The Jakaar
returned! Why? They want the book obviously. Something big is going to happen and it appears that I will be in the thick of it," he thought.
Tellar and Scourge walked into the inn and looked around.
"Over there," said Tellar, nodding at the table where Greytan was sitting.
"So old friend it looks as if you've gotten yourself into trouble," said Scourge.
"I am not the only one in trouble old friend. This time the world is in for trouble," replied Greytan.
"You mean the Jakaar? What would they want with you or this book?" asked Scourge picking up the book.
"This book," taking it back from Scourge, "is one of the most
powerful and evil books the world has ever known. Inside these pages are spells and incantations from the Darkimage."
"Wasn't the wizard Darkimage just a legend?" asked Tellar.
"The 'legend' you are talking about was as real as you and I are. But it was not the wizard that was the problem; it was the Darkimage itself that threatened to destroy mankind. You see the Darkimage is a force. A force so powerful and evil that none may withstand it. It was that force that took over the mind of the wizard who became known as 'the wizard Darkimage'," said Greytan.
"So what does that have to do with us and what are we supposed to do about it?" asked Scourge.
"Directly, it has nothing to do with you, however, if you do not help, and this book falls into the wrong hands, the very fabric of reality may be torn asunder."
"That bad, huh," said Scourge.
"Yes. That bad," replied Greytan.
"Well I guess we'll have to do something to make sure that it doesn't fall into the wrong hands. Won't we boss," said Tellar.
"Sure kid," Scourge said, "the question is how."
"First we separate," replies Greytan.
"What?" asked Scourge looking at the wizard. There was a gleam in his eyes and a hint of steel in his voice.
"I'm going to take the book away. You two are going to distract the Jakaar." Greytan stood up and left.
"Let's go," said Scourge. A cloaked figure watched the three leave the inn. Although it was night, the full moon added an eerie luminescence to the cobbled town streets. Quietly he watched the old man and two thieves part company.
"Delightful," he thought, "They left the old man alone... and vulnerable".
Unaware, Greytan walked on alone through the narrow, twisting
alleyways. All was silent except for the shuffle of his aged steps across the stones. Suddenly, the piercing cry of a frightened animal cut through the air like a hot knife. Startled, Greytan whirled around only to see a small scrawny cat dart past.
"Gads, I am jumping at shadows," he muttered and smiled in relief.
Calm once again, Greytan checked to see that the book was still safe, when he feels a gentle tug at his sleeve. It's a young girl, not quite adolescent, looking as if on the brink of tears.
"Excuse me, sir," she said, "but have you seen my cat? He ran out of the house a few minutes ago... I tried to chase him but... but..."
The sight of the young girl with her face buried in her hands,
hair tousled, sobbing uncontrollably, was more than Greytan's old heart could bear. Jaded though he was, he remembered what it was like to loose a pet.
"There, there, dearie... don't be upset. Why, I just saw him disappear into that alley. Come, let's have a look."
Hand in hand, the old man and the child walked over to the alley where they found, sitting atop a pile of half-rotten straw, the same animal that scared Greytan out of his wits not five minutes before. Seeing the child's face brighten Greytan smiled, knowing that he has helped her; more than he may ever realize. She rushed over to the feline and scooped it up in her arms with the love only a child can give, the girl trotted off, content.
Safely alone once again, Greytan checked his satchel only to find...
THE BOOK WAS GONE!
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