Date: Thu, 8 Feb 2001 07:40:24 -0500 (EST)
From: Rune Therain <mist_dark@yahoo.ca>
Subject: Powers of the mind: 5

And I've completed another chapter.  Actually, as everyone knows, I've had
this finished for a little while.  But that's not important.  What is
important is that you are now getting a chance to read it.  And hopefully
I'll finish chapter six tonight so that will be out tomorrow, but then
again I might not.  Guess we'll see.

Thanks for all of your e-mails.  I'd like to get more, but I can be happy
with what I've gotten.  Well I'll be content for the moment.  I'm such a
fickle person when it comes to these things.  Anyway, special thanks to
Kenitra, Shade, Aeoros, Apples, Gavalin, Mirage, Dax and Syren.  And of
course there's David, great guy and he certainly has his work cut out for
him with running the archives.  If you want to drop me a line, and I'd love
it if you did, you can reach me at one of two e-mail addresses.
Mist_dark@hotmail.com or Mist_dark@yahoo.ca both work, and will get
responses from me.

As usual here is the disclaimer.  This story in no way is supposed to
reflect the members of Nsync.  I don't know them, and they certainly don't
possess any mystical powers.  At least if they do, they haven't mentioned
it in their interviews.  If you are too young, or it's illegal in you area
to read this, I'd leave or not get caught.  If homosexual themes offend you
then I'd leave as well.  Parts of this story are based off the RPG Rifts.
All trademarks belong to Kevin Siembieda and Palladium books.

I'm going to stop talking now, so enjoy the story.
Until next time,
Rune


		CHAPTER FIVE


Despite the stero-types that surround women, Makyla couldn't cook.  In fact
she laughed out loud when Sandy suggested it to her.  It took her about ten
minutes to be able to explain what she thought was so funny.  She told them
about the last meal that she'd tried to make.

	"It was just before I started my training as a warlock," she
recalled.  "I forget exactly why but my mother wanted me to keep trying to
cook.  She held onto the concept that I would be able to become a real
`woman'.  She didn't think that becoming a warlock was a choice that a
woman should make.  Anyway, she insisted so I dutifully tried to make the
evening meal.  To make a long story short it ended with us eating at a
neighbour's for several days.  I sort of set the house on fire.  Since then
I've decided that it's not a good idea for me to try to cook things."

	Nathaniel whistled, Joey didn't say anything and Sandy just stared
at her in amazement.  "You burned your house down?"  He asked.

	Makyla blushed.  "Yes.  It was an accident," she said defensively.
"The pot got knocked over and a log shot onto a blanket and it just went
from there."

	"You burned your house down?"  He asked again.

	"Yes," Makyla repeated.  "I burned my house down."  She abruptly
started laughing again.  "I still remember trying to explain it to father
when he came home.  Mother was still upset that I was still going to become
a warlock and all father could do was laugh at the fact I managed to burn
the house down.  He wasn't upset at all."

	"Understanding father," Joey said.  "Mine would have flipped.  But
then my mother never really tried to teach me how to cook.  And certainly
never insisted I do."

	"Lucky you," Makyla said.  "But I'm not the domestic type.  I can't
cook, sew, knit or perform most wifely duties."  She looked at Joey.
"Actually I can perform some of the interesting ones, but not the whole
bunch of them."

	Joey blushed and looked away.  "That's something at least," he said
quietly.  Nathaniel noticed his blushing and laughed quietly to himself.
Joey shot the priest a dirty look.  "So why are you here?"  He asked.  "In
the jungle I mean."

	"Originally I was here to find my staff," Makyla said.  "But since
then I've had a slight change of direction.  I'll still be looking for my
staff, but I've got an added task."

	"What task?"  Sandy asked.

	"I don't think that summoner should be unleashing his creatures
like that.  I think I'll have a little chat with him at some point before I
leave.  I didn't bare him any ill will until he had me attacked.  I was
going to enter and leave his domain the moment I found my staff."

	"Why are you looking for your staff?"  Joey asked.  "Was it stolen
or lost?"

	"Neither," the warlock told him.  "It's sort of a rite of passage.
I've reached the highest level of warlockdom that is possible to reach
through teaching.  To learn anything more I have to strike out on my own.
My instructor gave me the task of find the staff.  It'll be my staff once I
find it, but I have to find it first."

	"How long have you been searching?"  Nathaniel asked.  "I know it
too five years for me to be raised to priest."

	"About three years now," she admitted.  "I had to narrow it down
first.  I'm positive that the staff is somewhere in this jungle.  With my
luck the Summoner has it.  But we'll see."

	"What's so special about the staff?"  Sandy asked.  "Does it have
any powers?"

	Makyla laughed again.  "That is an understatement.  It will enhance
any warlock's skill and wields a number of elemental powers itself.  It's a
very useful item to have."

	"Won't the Summoner use it then?"  Sandy asked.  "If you try to
take it away from him what's to stop him from using it?"

	"Oh he can use it, but only as a normal weapon.  Its abilities are
only useable by a warlock.  Which, hopefully, he isn't.  Or doesn't have
one in his service."  She shrugged.  "I guess I'll have to cross that
bridge when I come to it."








	The Summoner furrowed his brow as he scratched a few numbers onto a
piece of parchment.  He added them up quickly and then deducted that from
another number he drew.

	"Only a thousand more," he whispered.  He did a quick calculation
and found that he would be able to achieve the desired number in under a
week.  If he strained himself he could knock it down to five days.  "I've
waited this long, I can wait a little longer."

	Setting the quill down the Summoner turned his attention to the
circle that lay on the floor.  It was drawn in the blood of doves.  The
corpses of ten discarded birds lay in a basin nearby.  Thee live doves
cooed softly in fear in a cage at the center of the circle.  Being careful
not to smear the fresh blood the Summoner stepped inside the quarter of the
circle that would grant him immunity to the creature he was about to
summon.  He pulled a small knife from his belt and took one of the doves
from the cage in a firm grip.

	The words were chanted lowly at first.  He gradually worked up to a
normal speaking voice.  When he spoke them at a normal voice he plunged the
knife into the bird's chest.  As the life fled from the creature he flung
the blood in a circle while absorbing the magic that oozed from the tiny
being.  He repeated the process with each of the remaining birds.  When the
last one had been sacrificed he spoke the words again.  "Xy yin Pein yin
Keron."  He released the magic that had been building the entire time.
Pulling it from himself and channeling it through the symbols he had etched
on the ground in the blood of the doves.  The drawings flared a deep
crimson.

	At first no other change was noticeable in the circle.  The symbols
glowed in the silence.  The figure that the magic summoned was, at first,
indistinguishable from the shadows in the room.  Slowly the solid form
could be seen, though it was still mistaken for a shadow if not for the
glowing yellow eyes.

	Seven feet tall and made from the deepest shadows the world has
ever known, the Archfiend clothed itself in a black robe that seemed to be
made of the same shadow itself was made of.  It raised one clawed hand and
pointed it at the Summoner.

	The battle began.  The Archfiend reached out with its mind and
mentally slapped the Summoner.  It was a typical strategy and the mage was
well prepared for it.  He easily shook off the effects and countered.  He
triggered the symbols that he had drawn for this purpose.  Strands of
silver light flew from the symbols and wrapped themselves around the
Archfiend's arms.  Several more attached themselves to the creature's legs
and pulled it to its knees.

	"Submit," the Summoner demanded.  "Submit and I will return your
dignity."

	"If I submit," the Archfiend spat.  "My dignity will already be
gone."

	The Summoner triggered another of the symbols in the circle.  Waves
of agony shot down the strands into the Archfiend's body.  The demonic
being writhed in pain.  "Submit," he repeated.

	It took five hours to break the Archfiend's will.  Five grueling
hours before it agreed to serve the Summoner.  The moment the mage had
extracted the oath from the Archfiend a silver collar appeared around its
neck.  The collar faded as both minion and master stepped outside the
circle.

	"Why have you summoned me," the Archfiend inquired.  It had become
very respectful to the human that had just enslaved it.  "Why not one of my
lesser brethren?'

	"Your power," the redhead told it.  "I seek a thousand minions by
the end of the week.  A thousand creatures willing to serve and worship me.
You can help me achieve that goal.  Alone I could do it in a year.  You
will see that goal within the week."

	"How?"

	"You know perfectly well how," the man snapped.  "You are among the
nobles of your kind.  And only the nobility can truly command the fiends.
You will summon your lesser brethren and hand the leash of command to me.
They are intelligent enough to give me the worship that I will need."

	"You are a fool human," the Archfiend sneered.  "You seek to
elevate yourself above your rightful station.  And all humanity deserves to
beg for mercy at my masters' feet."

	The Summoner arched an eyebrow.  "I am your master now.  And I do
wish to see humanity and the other races begging for mercy at my feet.  And
I will have it."










	The torches flickered madly in the darkened temple.  Countless
creatures filled the room to its maximum capacity.  Not another living
creature could enter the temple if they had wanted to.  There was an
incredible variety among the creatures that were in the temple.  Several of
them were even mortal enemies, and under different circumstances would have
been trying to rip each other limb from limb.  But they were here for a
different reason and nothing would make them tear themselves away from it.
None of them wanted to be there, but all of them had to be there.

	The priest stepped out and sadly scanned the audience.  He didn't
want to be here any more then any of them did.  And he certainly didn't
want to participate in the sacrilege that he was about to.  But he, like
them, had no choice.  With one final sigh he opened the book on the altar
and began to read.

	The book itself was new.  And in some of the later pages the ink
had barely had time to dry.  It was a holy book, of sorts.  Written by the
hand of a deluded mind.  For over an hour the priest preached the lessons
of the book to the congregation.  For an hour the congregation listened to
him tell them what they knew were lies, but had to accept as truth.  They
knew the words in the book to be lies, but also knew that they would bind
them to their hearts and souls and recite them on their deathbeds.

	When the priest at last closed the book a small moan rippled
through the congregation.  Now came the time where he would lead them in
worship.  Something they had all come to hate.  They would pour out their
hearts to a god that did not love them.  They would worship a being that
had not yet been raised to divinity.  None of them wished to see him
raised, but all would do whatever they could to that end.  And all of them
hated him for it.  But loved him at the same time.

	The priest led them in worship, blessed them in their lord's name
and dismissed them.  Long after the last creature had left the temple the
priest wept.  When he had cried the last tear he stood and stared with pure
hatred at the book that he had been forced to read from.

	"I hate you," he said softly.  "I may have to bow my knee to your
presence.  To bend my very heart and soul to your whim, but I will never
truly love you.  I may profess undying love for you and mean it.  But I do
not love you.  When you achieve you divine status you may kill me.  You may
torture me for eternity, but it will change nothing.  I love you only
because you make me.  You will never have a priest that loves you, and you
will never have a worshiper that truly loves you."









	The Archfiend stood in front of the gateway that it had created to
its native dimension.  The gateway barely stood out from the shadows around
it, and the only thing that distinguished the center was the shifting
darkness.  The Land of Shadows was a realm that few would dare to tread
upon.  The last mortal that had attempted it was horribly slain by the
denizens of the realm.  The occasional god made their way through the
realm, but few were doing more then passing through.  Those that were
native to the Land of Shadows had nothing to fear by simply being there.
Though the creatures that called this place home were often cruel and
vicious.

	The Archfiend looked around the room.  Its baleful yellow eyes
seeing nothing but the room itself.  Nothing was hidden, invisible or
otherwise, from its sight.  As a creature of its immense power it had very
little to fear, but it was always wise to use caution.  For centuries it
had used this philosophy and it had served well.  But now the Archfiend was
being controlled by a mortal.  Granted a mortal that sought divine status,
but still a mortal.  With a deep sigh the shadow figure stepped into the
Land of Shadows.









	Perhaps one of the more interesting realms is the Land of Shadows.
From it comes all manner of shadow creatures.  The most renown one being
the Shadow Beasts.  I've never liked the term `Shadow Beast', but it does
accurately describe these creatures.  They are of low intellect and are
conformed of shadows.  They can be slain with normal weapons on our world,
but are vicious predators that delight in killing.  Of course other
creatures are also spawned by this strange land, but they are generally
less known and far more powerful.  Fiends, and their more powerful brethren
Archfiends, are among the most dangerous of creatures that come from this
realm.  The Fiends will be discussed more in length here then the rest of
the Land of the Shadows.  I will cover that particular topic in a later
essay.

	Fiends are beings comprised of the essence of shadows.  They
appear, physically, as nothing more then humanoid shadows.  They are jet
black and only their eyes have any colour.  The exact colour of the eyes
will reveal a rough measurement of the power of the creature.  Red is the
lowest among the Fiends.  Green is one step up the power ladder, followed
by yellow and then black.  Never underestimate the creature simply because
you are dealing with a red-eyed Fiend.  They are dangerous in all their
colours, but they get more dangerous as the colour change.  The same
colours apply to the Archfiends, but a red-eyed Archfiend is still more
powerful then a black-eyed Fiend.

	All Fiends posses similar abilities.  They can meld completely with
any shadow and they often carry shadows around with them.  Mages have
speculated that the shadows follow a Fiend because the creature is made of
shadows itself.  The shadows are simply attracted to the Fiend as various
vermin are attracted to shining objects.  Whatever the cause of this effect
a Fiend will use these shadows to its advantage.  I have witnessed an
Archfiend darkening an entire province because of this ability.

	Another trait common to all Fiends is telepathy.  They use it
remarkably well, and it appears to be as instinctive to them as breathing
is to us.  They are born (however they are born that is) with this ability.
As a result they are very resistant to any form of mind control, and
virtually immune to any psionic attack leveled at the mind.  Their
telepathic abilities are useable only as a communicative device.  They
often use it to cause confusion, which they love, among mere mortals.
Thankfully the creatures cannot actually read your mind, though they may
make you think they can.

	Fiends are superb unarmed fighters that can tear though a knight's
armour without pause.  More then one fool has been slain by them simply
because he didn't think they were dangerous without a weapon.  Ever Fiend's
hands end in claws that can rip through solid metal.  To make them more
dangerous opponents, every Fiend has a smattering of magic.  An average
Fiend will only be able to cast a few of the relatively simple spells, but
that is usually enough.  A globe of light cast in your face will have the
same effect, even if the caster can only cast on other spell.  Archfiends
have more magic at their command, but do not rank above an initiate mage.

	Archfiends, as mentioned above, are the more dangerous of the
Fiends.  They have the three common abilities already described and a few
others.  The problem with trying to document the abilities of the Archfiend
is that the sources are very unreliable.  No one has ever captured an
Archfiend to interrogate and few have witnessed the creature's power and
lived to tell the tale.  Indeed, most that have lived have been driven to
insanity, or simply refuse to discuss the topic.  However, there is one
ability that has been reliably discovered.  That is the Archfiend's ability
to control the normal Fiend.  At first it would appear that the Fiends
simply defer to an Archfiend when one is near, but if observed more closely
it is apparent that this control is not simple deference.

	During a number of mystic wars the Fiends were brought against the
forces of light.  Each time this happened an Archfiend was commanding the
individual units.  At first the various commanders thought that if they
killed enough of the Fiends then the others would lose morale and flee.
This rarely happened.  And when it did it only happened when there were
large numbers of Fiends under the command of one Archfiend.  In most cases
the Archfiend had to be killed before the demoralization would work.  A
single Archfiend can command an entire legion of Fiends to fight to the
death.  And they will obey its orders.  Nothing will break that line of
control.

	Most writings that you read on the subject of Fiends will vary
widely about what the creatures are capable of, but all will agree on one
concept.  Without a doubt it is best to avoid these creatures, particular
the Archfiends.  It takes very little to rise one of them to anger.  An
angry Fiend can easily stand against a hundred armed men, and the outcome
wouldn't be assured to fall against the Fiend.

	Thankfully the creatures are relatively rare and unless you deal
with evil sorcerers you most likely won't have a problem with them.  If you
are dealing with evil sorcerers you are well aware of the risks that run
with dealing with such beings.

		   The writings of Human scholar Aundrea


TBC

Let me know what you think.  Both the good and the bad.  I do like hearing
from you guys.

Rune