What to do when the reaper calls; Destroyer of Souls, corrup

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Halbarsh, a nice quiet town, full of ordinary people. The last time a tower representative had come calling was over 15 years ago. The main reason being that it is a mile or so in from the sea near a rather large forest but near absolutely no main roads. This suited the residents very well, but it did mean that visits from the Tower were few and far between. In fact the mere appearance of one now had made quite a stir, everyone wanted to see him, the mystery and power intriguing everyone in the village.

Morgan sighed inwardly, just his luck, the whole town had turned out to see him and now as he sat at a large oak desk gently writing as he made a list of firstly people who were possible recruits and a second of things that people wanted done. He had already gotten rid of half the queue telling them that he would not do any magic for their entertainment until tonight. Then they could all turn up at the tavern and watch him perform like some damn circus animal. But he understood this; they wanted to know of what it was like to wield true power. And he was obliged to show them, but it was the same in every village. There were near on 400 people in this village and so far he had seen no talent in the queue and the list en fornt only had one name and that was someone so weak in power that it was barely worth teaching them to hold it as that would e a challenge for them, he hoped the line out the door had some better talent. He had about 70 items on his list of things people wanted done. They all felt they needed to explain what the problem was and why he should help them; the list went from curing a malformed leg to killing off the rats in the village.

It was the same everywhere, Morgan loved the attention and showing people why they supported the Tower, but every now and again when he had no sign of any meaningful talent that he got frustrated. It never showed, he control on his emotions complete, always a warm smile and a nod as someone continued to speak well after he knew exactly, down to the letter, what they wanted. Morgan lifted his monocle and scanned the room again, still nothing. He would be here for a week, this village was rather large and there would be plenty of visitors from nearby to see him. After all, this was only the first day and thus only really those that lived in the village, it would be the days to come that would have all those from outside the village arriving once the news spread. He looked at the list, already there were upwards of 10 things that would drain him badly just to do. Mainly that of healing, never a strong point to him. But he would endeavor to help as he could, and thus while he was here he would get the best room and the best food, free of charge. The major of the village always trying to insure that he still held favor with those at the tower, which Morgan nodded and muttered reassuring words. He decided it best not to tell the little man that they probably barely knew he existed. He found it fascinating that while this man was over twice Morgan's own age, he still acted like Morgan was the senior. He also seemed to worry that Morgan was so popular he might take his job. While if he wanted to Morgan already would have, it was a laughable concept, Morgan did not wish to settle down and stay in one place for a good long while yet.

His interest was wavering as a woman continued to tell him about how lovely her son was and how great it would be if he could take him to the Tower for training in something. He apologized to the woman, "I'm sorry, unless your son has some talent in magic I cannot take him on such a journey. Feel free to bring him to me and I shall have a look, but if I cannot take him I would suggest apprenticing him to either someone in the village or perhaps to the large town to the north." This seemed to stop her, she nodded slightly. "I shall bring him to you, sir." and then she rushed away. The next was a 30 year old man, he seemed convinced that he had a gift and even went so far as trying to demonstrate it. But Morgan gently shook his head and clasped the man’s hand. "Sir, I'm sorry, you don't have magical power. But what you do have is a keen skill. I would advise you to hone this skill, it will help you in more ways than you can guess." the man looked very disappointed, but by the looks of it Morgan’s guess was right. Blacksmith. The calloused hands, built like a golem. He was probably a very good blacksmith as well.

Morgan continued, running through the same process each time, scanning the queue that could fit inside, quelling any arguments about someone pushing in line, writing down what people wanted done, he made sure it was clear that only one thing could be asked for by each person, but this could not be the resurrection of a loved one. It just was not possible. And thus the day wandered tediously slowly along. Morgan glanced at the window, the sun was setting, he was about to tell people that this was enough for one day, and to come back tomorrow; He needed to prepare for some magic tonight. But something at the back of his mind stopped him; he could wait an hour or so more. He gathered his patience and kept up the smile.

“Hurry up we don’t have all day.” Joseph DeCaron’s low voice barked out in Chris’s general direction. The pair was traveling by the long winding game trail out of the woods towards the town of Halbarsh. Christian DeCaron and his uncle were hunters/trappers. They lived in the forest hunting and selling the pelts in town. Joseph did most of it, he rarely let Chris tag along or do anything besides cleaning the carcasses. Chris reveled in the trips to the village; they offered opportunity to mess around for a couple of days. He and his uncle stayed for two or three days selling their goods and catching up with friends and listening to the news. Chris hurried up and they soon reached the village.

“Hey Chris guess what!” one of the village youths shouted as he ran over.

Chris looked at his uncle before tossing his half of the pelts at his uncle. Chris still had his pack and bow with him but it was much lighter without the large bundle of pelts. He said goodbye to his uncle then turned towards friends, “What?”

“There’s a Channeler in the Inn!” exclaimed Jace who tended to do all the talking.

“Ooohh,” his voice dripping with sarcasm, Chris’ parents and Uncle did not really like Channelers, “Big deal.”

“C’mon, you have to at least look at him.” Said Matt cutting off Jace before he had a chance to speak, “You don’t get see one very often.”

“I will go to the Inn, not to see this Channeler guy, but because that’s where I wait for Joseph.” Chris and his friends headed off towards the Inn, Chris’ uncle heading towards the tanner’s house. As they approached the Inn they saw a line of people sticking out well into the street. Jace pointed excitedly and got in line. Matt shook his head and followed Chris into the Inn. Matt and Chris went over to the Innkeeper got some food and water and sat down near the fireplace. Accidentally getting an eyeful of the Channeler,

“He’s not that special.” Muttered Chris, “I bet he’s one of the scholars or something, can’t do much magic.”

Matt smirked. “If he heard you say that you’d probably loose some important body parts.”

Chris thumped Matt on the head with his empty plate before turning his chair to avoid glaring at the Channeler.

Authiel scanned the town called Halbarsh, they were still a distance from it but she wanted to be sure there would be no harm to her kin should they arrive. The elves were currently parked beneath the shade of a large tree, Authiel standing far enoughaway to be able to see into the town, but close enough to defend them lest anything or anyone was stupid enough to attack them, her keen eyes could pick up nothing to indicate a hostile response to their arrival. She kept her polearm in her grip, yet trying to look as though she was not going to attack the first person that laid eyes on her but sending the message not to mess with her or the others she protected.

"It looks to be safe, there should be no sort of hostility toward any of you, there is however quite a queue heading into the Inn where I believe the Tower representative is likely to be." Authiel announced to her charges as they stood, brushing their robes down and nodding to her. "If we head there now, the queue should not be too long and we should see them before nightfall."

The elder of the elves nodded, and took the lead. Authiel was at the back of the group, this way she had a view of each elves, anything that would come from the front or the side and if something attacked from behind, then they would have to target her first and anybody who dared attack them would find themselves greeting the ground rather personally. The small group made their way into the town, Authiel watching everybody closely ready to defend and defeat those who would make a move. Some seemed surprised to see them, others simply shrugged it off as though it were nothing out of the ordinary. The group joined the queue leading into the Inn, Authiel standing with her polearm, eyes darting around and staying close to the elves, studying every shadow that moved as they slowly made their way into the Inn.

It was so close to him leaving it for another day but then he saw a group of youths enter the inn. He lifted his Monocle and glanced at them casually. It confirmed it for him, here was some talent at last. But he sighed to himself, typical, it was the ungrateful jackass that seemed to hate channelers despite the years of service the Tower has provided and the mass of magic the Tower had wasted keeping this planet alive. Morgan could envision the words of one of the elders with infuriating calm telling him it was not his job to change people. That was their problem, all he could do was continue to protect and serve in the background.

He smiled to the person in front of him telling him about farming for the local root crop. he smiled and nodded like he had not heard this about twice already today and about five times at each of the previous villages he had gone through. He ignored the youths, he could tell by their body language that they were not about to leave so he had plenty of time still to try and figure out the best way to approach the kid. He predicted that this was going to be one of those patience trying games to bring this kid around so he didn't waste his talent which often happened with all those that hated channelers yet were destined to be one. Yet this youth didn't look like he hated channelers, just didn't like them, so there was some hope at least. But if the kid didn't want to join the channelers ever then Morgan couldn't force him. But if this was the case then Morgan would cut him from the source so his untrained mind didn't lash out when it finally started to use the source itself, it would protect those around him and the kid. But it was a decision the youth had to make, Morgan would tell him in good time, it may take him time as it was a permanent decision, there was no going back either way.

His eyes turned quizzically back to the line and he watched a new group slowly make their way in. Elves, he wondered what would bring them so far and yet to come see him. Was it help they required from him? Perhaps it was that they were passing through and curious like the rest of the people here. He was a moment later ignoring both the youths and the elves as the Major moved up the line cutting in with a lady. She held a small screaming child, not more than a few months old. The woman looked haggard, Morgan gestured to them to come straight to him, the woman looked like she was going to do that anyway. Evidently their need revolved around the child and they viewed it as far more important than the others in the line. Only time would tell.

Morgan waited and looked down at the child as the mother lay down a blanket on the desk and then put the child on it. While it was crying earlier as soon as it looked into Morgan's eyes it dropped silent, entranced by Morgans piercing eyes. Babies were remarkably preceptive, and it could feel that he was different from those in the line, he glanced at its aura with his monocle, in later years if this baby lived it would be a candidate for the Tower with reasonable strength. Morgan looked at the couple holding each other hovering over their baby, seeming more worried that it wasn't making any noise rather than relieved that it had stopped.
"What can I do for you?" he queried the two. They looked at each other and then at their baby, before the lady spoke up.
"Its him" She gestured to the baby, "He never sleeps well, and doesn't eat properly." Morgan nodded for a baby this wasn't too notable. The lady spoke again, "I know this sounds strange but I feel that he is in pain and I feel I cannot help him. Could you..." she made an expansive gesture as in do something. Morgan nodded slightly ignoring the fascination by the line of people. All trying to get a look at what he was doing.

He gently rested a hand on the child's head then grabbed to source his mind filled with its power, and his mind battled the flow of power out of habit it was now second nature to him. The power surged through him, heightened his senses, it filled him with a gentle euphoria, he could see why some people never wanted to stop channeling but it was part of the risks of using it. As exhaustion would kill you if you held it for as long as you could so part of the training was the discipline to drop the source when it was not needed. He wasted no time and started weaved silently; this weave was not to target anything but more to find any problems. He suddenly became aware of the child as the weave fell into place. His mind examined what he saw, to his amazement he found the lady was actually correct not simply worrying over nothing. He looked again, it looked like someone had dropped the baby and this had compressed one of the child's lungs while twisting its leg sharply. Morgan felt sorry for it already and then started weaving, gently correction the leg ignoring the woman very loud gasp as the child's leg popped without anything but a hand on his head. Then Morgan gently inflated the lung and finally put the child into a sleep. He opened his eyes and looked at the two and spoke. "I have done what I can. He will be fine, just try not to drop him again." the Major/Husband looked very guilty and the wife gave him a piercing look. Morgan didn't want to be that man tonight; he would never hear the end of this. It had been nothing major, the baby would have developed fine and the leg would have fixed itself, only the lung would have caused breathing difficulty later in life. Morgan gently released the source now that he was done returning to the now dull looking world, he ignored it again simply because he was used to it.

His eyes held an element on tiredness, because he was weaker at healing and such; he tired from this far faster than any combat magic. He looked up at the elves that to his present surprise were next in the queue. "Greetings Elves. How may I be of service to you?" he looked at them evaluating each one of them, intrigued by the non-magical elf most of all. She was truly a warrior maiden and looked to be their bodyguard too; fascinating.

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The Destroyer's mind spread out, it found the minds he wanted. His two commanders, 'The Dark Heathen' and 'Morrigan'. His voice was like an avalanche of ice, deep and ominous yet a massive power behind it, forcing those that he aimed it at no choice but to listen as though his servants would ever give up the chance to speak to their master. "My two commanders, I have a task for you. But first I will tell you, we are close my children, to the day of my release! We shall soon take this pitiful planet for me. You want that don't you?" The voice paused. "But first, I must have one life! I want him killed so I can resurrect him in my service. So once you kill him prepare the ritual to give his body and soul to me. Do not fail me; he is a potent battle Mage who is out by himself. We strike now. His name is Morgan Tereyal." the voice paused. "This is so important to me, that I offer the one to do this for me the chance to rise above all others. I will grant you Ask'galar, literally 'The sword of the Destroyer' this is my blade and is imbued with my power, power beyond imagining. And the one who gets this will be the High Commander of all our forces, they will be the one to lead us to victory in the upcoming war on the Tower. The tower needs to be destroyed; it is the final obstacle to my return. It is the final seal on my prison, the Tower itself. The Tower must be destroyed, when the tower crumbles I shall rise from its rubble and you shall be rewarded like no other! Kill my loyal servants; I have given you 30 'Shadowsworn' each to complete this task. Remember what is at stake" the destroyer projected the image of the sword, black as death itself, and the picture of a black helm of the High Commander. "The victor will gain these and the other will become all but their slave. Onwards my slaves, my release awaits!" with this he severed his connection to the two. They had their orders, he had told them more than ever before but this was so they knew the need behind it. And why victory was close. He could feel it.

Shadowsworn: Half giants trained in combat. They are above average troops of the Destroyer, the wear completely black armour, never tire and feel a reduced amount of pain. They are alitte slow but normally plenty fast enough. Then have a long knife, heavy crossbow and a two handed Axe and know how to use all of them ruthlessly. They feel no remorse and no pity and do exactly as instructed. Thus they are not too bright.

((Sorry about the length, an also my proofreading is a little iffy, so don't hate me. Hopefully any mistakes you can figure out. If not just ask. I am expecting the two commanders to take a day or so to get to the village. Hope no-one minds me pitting two fellow commanders against each other in a race as such. It is to try and make things more interesting.))