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[Isk]

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In his chambers aboard his ship the Legacy, Isk nodded sleepily. His eyes nearly closed as his feathered pen stumbled across the thin paper. He cursed as the writing was ruined and pushed the message he had been drafting aside, tucking it into a small brazier. The Magnate sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. He had been doing a lot of plotting as of late, holding meetings and reading the progress reports his spies sent in. It amused him of how simple it was for his people to bypass even the most strict recruitment procedures and infiltrate rival alliances. But paperwork was always draining and in his moment of mental weakness he heard a familiar voice ring out in his head.

[Why do you waste your time with these foolish pursuits?]

Isk glanced across the chamber at the Helm of Evil. It was mounted to the wall like some sort of trophy. The Helm of Evil was an artifact with many brothers lost throughout the land, a part of a suit which had never been brought together. The shadow iron grin of the helm enlarged as the voice continued to pester him.

[There are more pressing things than Vaen and the Island Alliance]

“Silence yourself” Isk waved his hand passively and reached for a fresh piece of paper to write on. He set his pen upon it and paused as the voice continued.

[Avoiding me will not help you gain power. We were close once, before you became Magnate... before your marriage. People used to fear you and through me they can fear you again]

Isk narrowed his eyes as he contemplated on those words. His porcelain mask reflected the rising sun through the window of his chamber as his ship sailed closer to the Magincian dock. Drawing out a moment of silence Isk was not aware that the ink from his pen had already cut a hole in the fresh paper and stained his mahogany desk. The Magnate’s tired mind was spinning and his eyes were on the dark helm again. The voice in Isk’s mind rang louder.

[Ignore me, then. Seek power on your own terms, without me]

A sad smile crossed Isk’s face hidden behind the emotionless porcelain mask he always wore. “Quite a trick that would be, for a man to ignore ambition”

[So you have found the answer at last]



Isk remained quiet.

[I have always been a part of you, ever since you saved me from eternal boredom in the dungeon of Ice. You were so naive then, thinking you could amplify the visions I have granted you with drugs. Now you are an addict and your power has slipped away. I am the only piece of the Hand of Evil set which you possess. Smogg can not admit he does not know what to do with the Gauntlets of Evil, Molly only places the Leggings of Evil on display like you have done to me... and much of me remains lost in the rubble of Beleth’s tower.]


“So you say”

[Think upon this, Isk. Does the fact that you embrace your ambition give you a measure of destiny none of the others who claim me possess?]

Isk formed a thin smile beneath his mask. “I am destined for great things.”

The Magnate sat back in his chair, the rising sun from the outside glared against his eyes but he did not move. The words that the helm spoke to him seemed to be coming from the rays of light like the command of a god.

[Make the Hand of Evil whole]

“And what will happen when the pieces are brought together?” Isk asked inquisitively, a yawn nearly escaping him.

[You will meet your Philosophe]

* * * * * * *

Blinking his eyes Isk awakened from his sleep thanks to the bright stream of light which filtered through his cabin’s window. Lifting his masked face from his writing desk he accidentally knocked something down from the table with his elbow. The Helm of Evil made an arch along the floor as it rolled to touch his booted foot.

“So you have infected my dreams” Isk stated. The helm peered lifelessly at him from the wooden floor.

The moment was broken by a quiet knock on the cabin door. “Come in” Isk reached down to pick up the armor and set it on his lap as his visitor entered. A black armor clad figure paced in front of Isk’s desk and handed the Magnate a scroll. “You are Cyrus Crownguard’s messenger?” Isk asked in a casual voice as he unrolled the scroll and began to read it.

“Yes, I serve Lord Crownguard. My lord wishes to speak with you concerning the city of Magincia.”

“Yes. I was informed he had a messenger in Magincia and I have read his letters.” Isk set the scroll down and subconsciously began to stroke the top of the Helm of Evil. “I think we have a few things in common, Cyrus and I. We both seek artifacts that belong to us. You can tell your lord that I will meet with him at his earliest convenience, no doubt there are things we can do to help each other.”

The messenger bowed. “I will inform my lord”

Isk waved his hand to the side dismissing the messenger and lifted the Helm of Evil from his lap to face level. He stared at the black metallic artifact from behind his porcelain mask. “We have a deal.”

[Good]


* * * * *

Chapter 2

This had been his enemy’s home.

Isk looked at the surrounding ruins with a hungry expression beneath his porcelain mask. In all honesty he had not dwelled much upon the fate of the daemon lord, the thing was dead or gone. Only the daemon’s piece of the Hand of Evil mattered and it lay somewhere under the rubble of Beleth’s fallen tower. The stinging wind of Ice Island cut through Isk’s layered uniform and bit against his hidden skin. At times Isk held tight to the Helm of Evil as if the cold iron object could give him comfort or warmth. In truth he was afraid to lose it.
“This will take a lot of time... excavating this mess” Isk said as he turned to take in the extensivenesses of the rubble. He allowed the Helm of Evil which Isk held under his left arm a clear view of the task at hand.

[Curious, it is not here]

Isk shifted the helm, holding it with both hands and stared down at it. His cold breath poured out of his chilled porcelain lips as he spoke to the helm with an agitated voice. “You told me it would be here!”

[It was, but now it is gone. The chest piece has been moved... perhaps years ago]

“How could you not have known this before now! This has been a waste of time”

[Are you so quick to fold? With that attitude I wonder why your wife chooses to remain with you]

The helm dropped from Isk’s hands and fell into the thick snow, its sinister grin hidden in a veil of white. The Magnate had dropped it on purpose to show the Helm of Evil who was in charge. Clenching and opening his fists Isk stared at the black helm as snow fell down upon it. Like a statue Isk remained still locked in a childish contest of who blinks first. It did not take long.

[You would return me to a prison of Ice?]

“Make no further reference to my wife or family” Isk said protectively “Now, where is the chest piece?”

[Someone has taken it. We should get the other pieces and forget about the chest piece for now.]

Isk kneeled and lifted the Helm of Evil from the snow, Kindly brushing the snow from it. “Smogg or Molly then.” Isk stated “I can make a deal with Smogg but Molly will require extra attention.” Though he did not say it Isk felt a sense of fear. Dealing with Smogg was risky business as the lord of necromancy had a way of taking more than he gave. Though Smogg’s magics had revived Angelique from near certain death they had taken her father instead. A life for a life. Isk could not help but wonder what price would have to be payed for Smogg’s part of the Hand of Evil. Isk’s envy green eyes looked dull in the approaching darkness as Isk glanced back at the ruins of Beleth’s tower.
“Perhaps I can find something here to trade him for.” Isk’s breath seemed like it would turn to ice.

[You need to find shelter. The night is almost upon us]

Isk only nodded as his eyes continued to scan the debris.

* * * * * *

They found shelter within some rubble accessible through a shallow crevice. Crawling into it was a humbling experience as Isk was not used to being on his knees. The Magnate set his bedroll over a cold marble slab, something that may once have been Beleth’s sacrificial altar and layed on it. His brief search through the rubble wielded no results. Someone had definitely looted the tower when it fell and did a thorough job of it. The scene itself was quiet. In the lonely silence Isk thought of his wife, her hair, the way she smelled. He closed his eyes to stop from looking at the helm which rested on broken glass a meter away from him. He was glad that there were no voices. The Helm of Evil remained quiet, perhaps it was asleep.

* * * * * *

Nightmare

The Magnate found himself in a barren wasteland. Lightning cracked in the background illuminating a single dead tree some distance away. Isk approached it. A thunderous boom to his left demanded Isk’s sudden attention. A tornado of red twisted towards him from that side. There was someone within it, a malevolent presence.
“Just a dream” Isk reminded himself as the tornado swirled closer. Isk soon discovered that it was a column of blood. The figure emerged from it unmarked by the red liquid.



The stranger wore arcane clothing perhaps oriental in design. It’s greyish black robes blended into the darkness and were visible only when lightning struck to illuminate the greenish sky of this nightmare dream scape. The stranger had a graceful step as he walked towards Isk. He wore a white mask modified by horns and stained by a crimson spot on the forehead. It looked like a daemon’s skull. His arms were outstretched, hands creating intricate magical patterns to his sides. As Isk’s eyes ran down the figure Isk noticed a porcelain mask not unlike his own hanging from the stranger’s neck by a thick wool string. There was a bloodied sword in his obi. The being spoke as Isk took a step backwards. The column of swirling blood continued to spiral against the green sky in the background. The chilling voice of the dream stranger echoed from the skeletal lips of his mask “Welcome.”

Isk remained silent and began watching the dead dull green eyes of the stranger. The stranger dashed around Isk with amazing speed causing the Magnate to turn sluggishly. It set its hands on Isk’s shoulder having made its way behind him quicker than Isk could turn. “No reason to fear me, Isk.” The same chilling voice though it was more familiar this time. It set its masked face to Isk’s ear, their white hair mixing as the being whispered to the Magnate. “I have been waiting for this day, Isk. The two of us face to face at last.”

Isk did not move though everything told him to shove the stranger’s hand away. The daemon masked stranger’s breath was uncharacteristically sweet, much like honey. “Who are you?” Isk questioned, a slight quiver in his voice as the sweet scent lingered.

“My name has been lost to history, though you know me as the Hand of Evil” the stranger turned Isk around, both men now facing each other with their masks hiding their facial expressions. “Am unfortunate name heaped upon me by those who bound my spirit.”

Isk narrowed his eyes. “This is just a dream. Why did you reveal your true appearance to me now?” his mind flooded with questions.

The stranger dashed backwards closer to the column of blood. His white mask shimmering as it reflected lightning. “I am real, Isk. The land you are sleeping on is charged with magical energy from the city that once stood strong around us. It allows me to exercise greater power over a defenceless mind. Welcome to my realm, my mind.” The stranger opened his arms as if ready to make an embrace. “We are much alike. My mind is as chaotic as yours. Our ambitions are of equal magnitude.”

Isk did not respond. Instead he raised his head up to look at the blackened sky. The clumn of blood was penetrating the black clouds. It took a moment for the masked Magnate to speak. “You said your spirit was bound. Collecting all the pieces of the Hand of Evil will release you?”

“Yes”

“What is your name? The one that was taken from you” Isk asked.

“My name, as my face, are my secret. But you can call me Kaigetsu, it is what my master called me.” the stranger stated and added with disconcern “I can not hold you here much longer Isk. You are awakening.”

Isk’s voice became frantic, the porcelain masked warrior had to learn more. “You said you would reveal to me the Philosophe, who is it?!” When will I meet him?”

Kaigetsu only chuckled. “Gather my armor and we will speak again, face to face. I wish you were not such a light sleeper.” The being that called itself Kaigetsu rejoined the tornado of blood, leaving Isk alone to absorb what he had just learned for the brief moments he had left of this dream.

* * * * * *

Chapter 3

Isk held tight to the Helm of Evil as he entered the master necromancer’s dwelling. The stone structure presented a perfect example of architectural achievement making Isk wonder if Smogg had hired a crew of builders or if he had lifted the stones into place with his magics alone. “Follow me Isk” Smogg Azalin spoke as he made the doors before him open. Isk followed a safe distance behind as the necromancer shepherded Isk into a narrow room. Smogg noticed the Helm of Evil and did not require for the porcelain masked Magnate to explain its presence. Waiting he watched Isk set the helm on a nearby table. Isk turned it so that the helm would have a clear view of the conversation. “The Helm of Evil has spoken to me after a long period of silence between us. I have been given a mission, one that I must see through to the end.”

Smogg only nodded, his wide wizard’s hat bobbed slightly. “I know that the connection between you and he helm is strong. I can feel it, but what is the mission you have been given?”

Isk lightly spread his feet apart to gain a firmer footing as he found himself on the defensive without being threatened. He glanced at the Helm of Evil and spoke to Smogg. “I must bring the parts together. Destiny is involved in this, I know that only I can complete this task.”

A small grin formed on Smogg’s face. The necromancer remained silent for a time before he spoke. “Wait here.” Smogg left the room and Isk reached for the helm wondering if he had displeased the powerful mage. It did not take long for Smogg to return. In his hands the necromancer held a pair of gauntlets. Isk watched as the items were placed on the table, leaning forward he felt his body shake in anticipation of acquiring the artifact.

“The Gauntlets of Evil. Do you recognize them Isk?” Smogg said testily. Isk approached the gauntlets and kneeled before them as he felt his knees give out. Unknowingly he lifted his arms to allow the helm he held a clear view of the gauntlets.

“T-Those are the Gauntlets of Evil” Isk said in wonder, his eyes were so transfixed that he fell back in a start when Smogg’s mighty hand landed on the table.

“ISK!” The necromancer lord bellowed as his fist struck wood. Blinking his eyes Isk shuffled to get back on his feet. “These are not the true Gauntlets of Evil! You must be more careful.. The craftsmanship of the true artifacts reflects the age in which they were made... these are a forgery. My smiths made these.”



Realizing his tragic mistake Isk bowed feeling quite humbled. He stuttered with his words before expressing his thoughts more clearly “I will not forget this lesson.”

“Good... now come with me” Smogg led Isk upstairs into another room. He gestured for Isk to sit and exited into an adjacent hall. Stuck alone with the helm and his thoughts Isk cringed knowing that he had failed a major test. “Perhaps I am not the one..” he gave words to his doubts as the Helm of Evil turned to face where Smogg had gone as if attracted to something there.

As time stretched on Smogg entered the room and took a seat across from Isk. Without an expression on his worn face the greatest necromancer in the realm set a pair of metallic arms down before Isk. At once the porcelain masked fanatic recognized the arms to be the genuine thing. The way the darkness of the armor consumed the light expressed the power that it must hold.

“I was not aware that you had the Arms of Evil” Isk stated having put his excitement under control.

“They are yours now... provided that you agree to my conditions.” Smogg did not modulate his tone. The necromancer’s voice was all business.

“Of course, anything you wish I can do. I have much wealth and many contacts” Isk extended his right hand and placed it on the shadow arms as he spoke “Perhaps I can interest you in a stone ankh, it was taken from the...”

Smogg waved his hand to dismiss Isk’s suggestions before they were even completed. The necromancer knew what he wanted. “I will give you access to the Arms of Evil as well as the Gauntlets of Evil, but you will put the armor on here. In the home of the Cult of Infernal Necromancy.”

Isk nodded though he did not speak. His eyes and hand remained on the arms of evil until he felt safe enough to take the armor. Placing the dark artifacts into a grey bag the Magnate grinned behind his porcelain mask. His envy green eyes flashed for a moment as if just now realizing all that Smogg had said. “I did not know that you had two of the artifacts. Have you the gauntlets as well?”

Smogg nodded and lifted his right hand, as if obeying a command Isk rose from his seat and followed Smogg to the corner of the room from where the roof of the adjacent building could be seen by means of an opening. Settled in the middle of a pentagram were the true Gauntlets of Evil. At this time the mistress of darkness, Smogg’s wife Reminiscence, had joined the pair. She stood quietly beside her husband as the head cultist spoke “That is where you will put on the armor, Isk. That is where the Hand of Evil will be made whole for the first time in history.”

* * * * * * *

Isk left the land of the necromancers with two pieces of the set. His helm and the Arms of Evil. Knowing that the gauntlets were as good as his he concentrated on Molly. “She has the leggings, but who has the chest piece and the gorget?”

His quest was half way over but about to become more complicated. He had to speak to the Hand of Evil, he needed Kaigetsu’s advice.

* * * * * *

Chapter 4

The two artifacts rested on crimson pillows within Isk’s ship. Each of the two parts flanked the porcelain masked Magnate as he drank a concoction of mixed Utopia and opium. He weakened his mind and slouched forward hearing the voices in his head lulling him to sleep. It was time for communion. Time to meet Kaigetsu, the Hand of Evil.

* * * * * * *

The nightmare dream scape looked calmer than the last time Isk was there. The continuous sounds of lightning striking against a pale green sky failed to bother Isk. The dreamer turned fully around and searched for familiar landmarks on this desolate land. Oddly enough the earth seemed to shift in the distance, hills forming and clouds appearing. An arm’s reach away a column of blood rose from the brown earth bringing with it the reason Isk visited this landscape, the being that called itself Kaigetsu. The personification of the Hand of Evil was seated on a grey throne, the top of which was damaged as if the throne had been a casualty of some long ago struggle. Isk could feel Kaigetsu smile behind its four horned mask.

“You are succeeding, Isk.” Kaigetsu stated with some hint of jubilation on his honeyed breath. “Though you are only half way to the end.”

Isk gave Kaigetsu a firm nod. The Magnate paced towards the throne and stood directly to the side of it. “The easy part has been taken care of but I have been forced to compromise for the Gauntlets of Evil as you well know.”

“It does not matter where the armor is brought together so long as it is made whole.” the Hand of Evil stated as he slid his hands along the arm rests of his throne allowing them to dangle lazily where the arm rests ended. As if adding sugar to his words Kaigetsu continued “... and only you can bring all the parts together”

Trapped by the indulgent words of the dream scape’s master Isk nodded to Kaigetsu. He had always felt that he was destined for great things, his climb through the ranks of the Moonglow Town Council, his self motivated proliferation of the Humanis philosophy as well as his recent position in the Island League were all steps towards his final destiny. No one had ever achieved the task of putting the set of armor together. No one had even come close.

“Tell me of Molly” Kaigetsu stated. “I know very little of her”

“She is the leader of Luna, a city of light in Malas though recently she has done some questionable things, Kaigetsu” Isk continued “There are rumours that she employs assassins but I could find no true evidence of this.”

Kaigetsu’s dull green eyes did not betray any emotion. “So she is not resistant to corruption. Of course, how could she be... she holds one of the dark artifacts. Even the strongest mind can not help but fall.”

Isk frowned beneath his emotionless porcelain mask. “Are you a corruptive force?” The question was asked with some restraint.

“No Isk, I am enlightenment. I am the path you walk to reach your Philosophe.” Kaigetsu lifted his daemon masked face and stared at the Magnate having said this. The lord of the dream scape placed his right hand over the porcelain mask he himself wore dangling from his neck by a wool thread. “You are close to me Isk, sometimes like a father and sometimes like a son.”

Isk smirked and waved a hand dismissively. “You have a high view of yourself” He paused “But all self indulgent flattery aside, I need a way to get the Leggings of Evil”

“Kill her.” Kaigetsu suggested, “Kill Molly and take the artifact”

Isk considered the words but declined “One can’t just kill someone like that. She is well protected and influential. Attacking her would cause a pointless war.”

Kaigetsu remained silent, still watching Isk through cloudy green eyes from behind a four horned mask. The red sun on its forehead was like another eye making Kaigetsu’s stare all the more intense.



“Then you must extort the item from her.” Kaigetsu pointed his left index finger to the ground and Isk unwittingly obeyed the gesture by going to his knees. The Magnate set a hand on Kaigetsu’s shoulder and listened closely to his words “Damage her reputation, isolate her from her friends. She will fold and present you with the leggings when she is sufficiently desperate and wants it all to end. Torture her soul.” Isk nodded as Kaigetsu continued. “A desperate person does desperate things, Isk. If Molly proves to be resistant to your diplomacy you will have to become desperate as well.”

“Very well” Isk stated picking up on the hint of using violence. Steering the conversation towards a new direction Isk asked “You said you were enlightenment, but what are you really? I want to know about your past.”

Kaigetsu leaned forward slightly before responding “My past is irrelevant to your quest, Isk. But I will give you something to take to the real world with you. I was both an emperor and a subject to emperors. Both a master and the mastered” Isk frowned behind his emotionless mask as he felt the personification of the Helm of Evil would continue to speak in riddles. To his surprise Kaigetsu began to present intriguing information. “...but of both my lords only I remain. My first master killed by my own hand and my second killed by a stranger from another realm.” Kaigetsu’s eyes flashed momentarily in malevolence as the tidbits of information continued to flow. Kaigetsu was deliberately issuing a summery, no doubt the full story would come another time. “My soul survived even as my body was destroyed on Britania’s day of liberation secure as you know in the suit of armor you must bring together. My lord’s apprentice abandoned the artifacts to be found by the rebel armies and when they failed to destroy the suit they scattered it.”

“You are tied to Mondain.” Isk spoke in a whisper having thought he put the clues together correctly. Kaigetsu did not respond, instead the dream lord summoned forth the same column of blood and disappeared just as he appeared minutes ago leaving Isk covered in blood.