Excerpt, "Crucible"

One of the goblins guarding the elves on the journey stepped over to Hugon. “Sergeant, I mean no disrespect but we were given strict orders not to mistreat the prisoners.” Hugon’s anger returned to him. He drew the soldier’s sword and ran him through with its blade. The goblin fell to the ground in a pool of his murky blood. Hugon turned to the others with the gory weapon in hand and roared, “Does anyone else have a problem with how I run my jail?”

It was at that moment the locked double doors flew open and a hurricane force wind swept into the room, extinguishing all the torches and lanterns. The goblins were knocked to the ground alongside their captives. A bright white light shone in through the doorway. Its radiance was blinding and all shielded their eyes. Through the luminosity the silhouette of an individual grew as it approached. Once the shadow reached Linvin he could finally see who entered the room.

Hovering just off the ground was a diminutive Human man, no bigger than Rander with his arms outstretched to the sides. He was adorned in a white silken robe with gold embroidery at every edge. Handcrafted sandals of the finest quality covered his feet. He lowered his arms and the light and wind dissipated. His face could be discerned.

His skin was white as snow. It was as though he had never been in the sun. A gray beard obscured much of his lower face and dipped down to his chest. As the breeze subsided, his hair fell back around his head. The short salt and pepper locks fell gracefully around his face. Even with that, the most notable feature was only just coming into view.

The man’s eyes were sunken deep into their sockets. There were no pupils or irises in the eyes. They glowed in a combination of red and orange hues. Their appearance in the darkened cavities of the skull was that of smoldering coals in a blacksmith’s forge. They gazed about the room as the man set down on the ground. The goblins shook with fear. Even the obstinate Hugon cowered on the floor.

The man spoke with a voice that was both amplified and at a screeching pitch. “Word has reached me that my prisoners have arrived. You did not inform me as I had ordered. WHY?” The walls shook from his voice.

Hugon crawled forward with his belly impeding his progress. “Great Necromancer, we received no orders telling us to inform you.”

Necromancer grew enraged at the statement. “Do not lie to me, Vile Vermin.” He held out his palm. A wind blew through the room and gathered the ashes from the scroll. Drawing together in a vortex, it deposited the remains in his hand. With the soot in his possession he closed his fingers. The ash changed back into the scroll. Opening the parchment he read it to himself. “I seem to have found the orders,” he said as he dropped them in front of Hugon. The Jailor did not move.

Without notice Necromancer reached out one hand and unleashed a plume of fire the like of which no one but a Lava Giant had ever seen. The flame poured over the quivering bodies on one side of the room. The entire area was enveloped in liquid flame. After a few short moments, he pulled his hand back and the fire withdrew back to his palm. All the goblins on that side of the room were gone. No trace was left to show they’d ever existed. The elves had been in that area as well, but they were unscathed. Their skin had not even risen in temperature.