The Keepers of Chaos: A Vault of Hell

Ryvvik Dlardrageth: XVII

The True Faiths Sword: XVII

"My lord.. There is a commotion at the Cosline warehouse." Ryvvik kneeled, careful to not make a singular move crouched under his master. The burning pires crackled with a satisfying sound.

"At ease Dlardrageth.." Victoro spoke in a calming soothing voice placing a hand on one of Ryvvik's horns, he stood up at once nodding. "Is Nihiloor aware of our enchantment?"

Ryvvik shook his head.

"No.. Gysheer did a fine job, he'll never know." He replied happily, he stood up straight, his figure towering over the lord by a good five inches, his wings danced slightly above the ground feeling the warm air of the temple spread over them.

"Good.. in that case.. We can ignore the commotion.. I am sure it is of no consequence to us." Lord Victoro spoke so cavalierly on the subject as if this potential hiccup to the plan meant nothing. "How are the children? I hardly see them traverse or ground any longer.." There was a mark of true wistfulness in Lord Cassalanter's voice, genuine concern.

"Xhalph is progressing incredibly my lord, he learns to swing 'Vorodirlis' better everyday, I had him reel in his walks in your garden to focus on his studies." Ryvvik fibbed in that second half, he was far too concerned with someone spotting his children and creating a connection between the great Lord Cassalanter and some infernal dealings. His respect for the Grand priest was too high.

"And, Bishtek?"

Ryvvik clenched a fist and snarled.

"Dlardrageth, I know your son is a late bloomer, but you need only patience. Please, let me instruct him. I assure you, a hopeless case he is not." Those words only served to breathe life into the already brewing fires in him. How could Lord Cassalanter host and be willing to train such a failure that was Bishtek? When Xhalph was so ready, so strong!

"No. My Lord, Bishtek needs to be taught by me. I.. Thank you for that most.. Generous offer." He choked out the words, not wishing to be impolite.

"Dlardrageth.. It is ok to ask for aid, I can see the weights eating at you.. If you need aid, please Lillian would have wanted.-" The Lord stopped himself, presumably out of respect. "Dlardrageth.. I have an assignment for you." The Lord said finally, he descended the steps of the temple's upper prayer platform. Those words filled him with excitement where he had previously been consumed with contempt. He did not need to be reminded of his failure son. He had for so long wanted to truly be part of this faith with the lord that had hosted his family.. He turned with Lord Cassalanter to follow him. The underground temple was massive and shaped like a large cross, its head holding a large statue of their lord, the center prayer space was fifty five feet wide with its cross arms. In every corner a small brazier of flames burned, orange, red, green and so many other colors of incense offerings to those beyond. The room was bustled with followers, many on their knees in the center of the room bleeding onto the harsh grey stone.

"Of- of course my Lord.." He replied. Lord Cassalanter was dressed in a long golden robe with red trim and a golden mask hanging over his face.

"We have a visitor, and perhaps a useful asset.. From our.. Sister faith, they requested I meet her, she is a powerful mage which I wish to work under you Dlardrageth, I believe you and her are already acquainted." Lord Cassalanter's voice was reminiscent of an earthquake, a slow tremor in the ground ready to slide. They walked past the group of worshippers Ryvvik was careful to not step on any of them his large size and heavy armor threatened to topple one to dust. Lord Cassalanter turned right into a narrow hallway under the overhang which rimmed the entirety of the statue and the initial wings. "In here.." He instructed Ryvvik to struggle to squeeze through the ironclad doorway running his hands along the grey tiles all marked with runes and scribes. The doorway opened to a common room, some chairs were placed and other tables of the occult kind were placed around the room, inside Ryvvik found a small gathering of people. Some of them he knew. In one corner Nelius the annoyance sat with his arms crossed. In the other corner sat far away from Nelius was Gysheer she was a forty year old woman with brown hair and brown eyes which spelled trouble. Her face was shaped somewhat like a large orange, and long in the middle without being very tall, she had a small nose and small eyes and an even smaller temper.