Legend
EXP: 45,220, Level: 9
Level completed: 13%,
EXP required for next Level: 8,780
The next day...
As Nosdyn had suspected...that fierce intelligence shined in his son. Two proud people's bloodlines coursed through his body. Nosdyn quickly noticed the boy had a vast understanding of the arcane arts. The N'Jal symbols he taught him...he somehow knew what they all meant, instinctively, without hesitation. It was a pleasure watching the boy.
There was one lesson he had to teach the boy though...he had approval from N'Jal herself. It was a rite of passage for his race. Tharak would have to make his own weapon...to become a man of his people. Nosdyn taught the boy the process carefully...the rest he would have to figure out on his own. It was an art unique to demons. A lost art...an almost form of relicry. And even that...Tharak fiercely consumed the knowledge his father gave him. Somehow, almost as if on impulse or instinct, the boy understood what Nosdyn was teaching him. As an inherited memory almost. When that day's lessons were over, Nosdyn looked at his boy. "You understand well so far. The weapon I was telling you about you must make for yourself. As I have, as my father before me had. As all other demons who followed that tradition have. You must complete this rite of passage." Nosdyn said calmly, there was on pressure or anything like that in his voice, in his teachings. He was instructing the boy in the same way he'd taught Llukai Lancaster so many years ago.
"It will be done father, I swear it." Tharak said. He'd been given his first true mission as a servant of N'Jal.
Nosdyn ran his hand through his boy's hair at that point. "It is good to see you again my son. I've longed for this moment. Longed for being able to teach you the ways of my father."
Tharak looked at his father at that point...he saw the shadow that haunted his father's eyes. He was beginning to understand how deeply Xyllea, his mother had betrayed them all. "There is something else father. It is about the weapon mother has been using on us."
Nosdyn listened at that point. "Go on ."
Tharak, displaying his fierce knowledge of how such things worked...somehow understood the nature of the weapon. "It's not Ettermire in origin. dark elves themselves do not manufacture it directly...it's from somewhere else. I have no knowledge of where yet though. Father...it's getting delivered to them from someplace. I think it's part of a cult or something like that."
Nosdyn just then realized what he'd suspected since the day he'd undergone rite of purification, with that bitch goddess' Lloth and her people. The thought occurred to him once more...I've been set up...Xyllea set us up. Knowing Lloth would never accept us, something is adding up. He knew right then he was on the verge of unraveling a piece of the larger puzzle, but he stopped it right then...it was not the time to try to solve the mystery of who Xyllea was really working for at that point. But someday...the matter would be solved. "Tharak." Nosdyn began to say softly. "We will discuss these matters another time. For now...let's take the rest of the night off."
Tharak nodded, he would need time to make the weapon of his people anyway...to become a man of his people and take his place by his father's side.
Last edited by Nosdyn; 11-24-2019 at 06:26 PM.