The power contained in Alcazar's tome was frightening. Ramza traced his fingers along the dark red, leathery cover, the smell of brimstone assaulting his senses. It was demon skin. The young Red Wizard eagerly, but carefully, pushed the cover open with his soft, pale fingers, like a thief daring his way through a door at night for the promise of treasure. Each of the delicate pages were crafted from the flayed flesh and skin of countless elves - all more ancient than Ramza could imagine, and their torment so legendary before their demise that the young Red Wizard could feel the echoes of their agony with each turn of the page. The evil of the tome was clear, and its power was magnified by the arcane runes and calligraphy all scribed in the blood of an elder wyrm. This was the power of necromancy.
Ramza pushed the tome away to collect himself. His ebonwood desk was uncharacteristically clean, this tome being his only focus for the past several tendays. The algorithms were beautiful. How simply they expressed the complex nature of capturing, fostering, and utilizing the energy of life itself. Is this the kind of knowledge and power gained from being apprenticed to Szass Tam? Or has the Khazark always been this brilliant?
Even though Ramza was a child prodigy, casting his first spell at the age of two, and even though he had never forgone his diligent studies, the gap that remained between Alcazar and himself was clear. Mizrahi, Graf, James, Thresh - none of the fool wizards of the backwater valley could hold a candle against Ramza's talent and ability; however, Alcazar, a true, Mulan-blooded Red Wizard. . . that is who Ramza faced. A dramatic sigh spilled past Ramza's full lips as he planted his elbow on the desk and massaged his forehead with a pinching motion. The humming of the tanks brought a moment of solace to Ramza's wracked mind, looking over to admire the physique of the captured Dryad.
"My progress cannot be hindered. I must match Alcazar's abilities - surpass them. With this work, I can create the perfect construct - but at a grave cost," Ramza muttered, gazing into the forlorn eyes of the Dryad. He explained to the Dryad, as if it cared, "it is a foul, but necessary, cost that is beneath me, so I have sent another to collect it. However, with this, I can create both a phylactery and a control rod."
Ramza gathered his resolve, pulling the tome back to him.
"With this, I can begin to make the perfect weapon - a weapon that would bring envy to even the ancient empire of Netheril."
Ramza pushed the tome away to collect himself. His ebonwood desk was uncharacteristically clean, this tome being his only focus for the past several tendays. The algorithms were beautiful. How simply they expressed the complex nature of capturing, fostering, and utilizing the energy of life itself. Is this the kind of knowledge and power gained from being apprenticed to Szass Tam? Or has the Khazark always been this brilliant?
Even though Ramza was a child prodigy, casting his first spell at the age of two, and even though he had never forgone his diligent studies, the gap that remained between Alcazar and himself was clear. Mizrahi, Graf, James, Thresh - none of the fool wizards of the backwater valley could hold a candle against Ramza's talent and ability; however, Alcazar, a true, Mulan-blooded Red Wizard. . . that is who Ramza faced. A dramatic sigh spilled past Ramza's full lips as he planted his elbow on the desk and massaged his forehead with a pinching motion. The humming of the tanks brought a moment of solace to Ramza's wracked mind, looking over to admire the physique of the captured Dryad.
"My progress cannot be hindered. I must match Alcazar's abilities - surpass them. With this work, I can create the perfect construct - but at a grave cost," Ramza muttered, gazing into the forlorn eyes of the Dryad. He explained to the Dryad, as if it cared, "it is a foul, but necessary, cost that is beneath me, so I have sent another to collect it. However, with this, I can create both a phylactery and a control rod."
Ramza gathered his resolve, pulling the tome back to him.
"With this, I can begin to make the perfect weapon - a weapon that would bring envy to even the ancient empire of Netheril."
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