The icy plains of the tundra generated its own weather, but that day was almost warm, blowing winds not carrying the bite of the arctic ice upon them as they whipped across the rolling terrain of moss, lichen, and in some patches, sturdy grass. Caribou and wolves and white-furred foxes skulked about the landscape, as did lemmings and small biting insects, eking out a meager existence in the remote, barren, harsh landscape.
But they had all fled from one particular area, an area now inhabited by man. Many humans, as well as many Goblinoids, all gathered around a strange thing that all the wildlife avoided, a thing that radiated a comforting heat, but also a sense of darkness, of evil , that distressed the wildlife enough to avoid it despite its comforting warmth. It was a pyramid made of black stone, a strange building nearly five hundred spans high and a longspan long at any one side's base. It had been there for thousands of years, a forgotten monument built in a barren tundra that had not known the footstep of man in a thousand years.
But now they had returned, preying on the caribou and scaring the wolves away, forcing the wildlife to flee from the region. They had began to arrive during the harsh winter, a winter that was eight months of the year's ten, bundled in layers of fur to protect against the lethal cold. More and more arrived as the winter thawed into spring, and now as summer had begun to set into the land, the men and Goblinoids had stopped coming. They did nothing, only camped around the pyramid, as if they were waiting for something.
Within the pyramid, there was nothing but darkness. A single corridor led from the north face into its depths, a bleak passage that swallowed the light of the torches lining the walls, making each torch seem as a small star in the endless black sky. At the center of the pyramid was a massive chamber whose dimensions were concealed by the blackness within, with only a dais and several writing tables upon it really easy to make out.
Those, and the statue.
It stood at the center of the platform, which had steps on all four sides leading to the floor some thirty spans down, a statue made of basalt or some other black rock, a statue of a human-like figure in robes, its arms crossed before it and a stern look on its face. It was all inky blackness, except for its eyes. Eyes that glowed with a pulsating white radiance.
They have failed me, a voice emanated from the statue, directed to a tall, thin woman standing before it, a woman with black hair and dark, glittering eyes. But it is of no moment. Only the failure of Shaz'beka disappoints me. I expected more from her.
"She nearly won for you, Master," the woman replied in a very respectful manner. "If not for the Were-cat, she would have broken them."
Always the Were-cat, the voice spat. He is a thorn in my side. A thorn it now falls upon you to remove for me, Lyselle.
"As you command, my Master," the woman said with a bow of her head. "I have a plan."
Explain.
"Yes, my Master. The Were-cat is sui'kun. I researched them, and you must agree that we have nothing that can fight one such as that directly.
I will grant that.
"Thank you, my Master. But despite his power, he does have weaknesses.
You believe to be able to exploit them?
"Yes, my Master. They didn't find all our spies when they found out Amelyn. I have eyes in the Tower, and they tell me much."
She looked up at the statue. "Master, the Were-cat may have the power, but he will not use it against us if it threatens his own."
His ties do run deeply, but his family is as fearsome as he. Do you believe you can get to them where others have failed? The ones sent to eliminate Jula failed miserably.
"I believe we can this time, Master. If things go as I plan, the Were-cat will recover the Firestaff, and then he will hand it over to us, and do it willingly."
Her dark eyes glittered momentarily. "One like that, he would pay anything to get back his children."
Indeed. You may proceed with your plan, Lyselle. Do not fail me.
"I will not, my Master," the woman said, bowing her head once again, and then leaving the statue, going down one of the sets of steps. Leaving the statue to its own, so it could ponder, plan, plot, and dream of a bright future.
A future of dominance.