The Warlock's Chair.
A place of magic and adventure.
Long ago when the world was young the Faerie races ruled far and wide across the lands of the Earth.
Then with the coming of Man, they disappeared into myth and legend. But they had survived. Hidd...
ETRAN DARKIRON LOOKED DOWN AT GEORGE. 'Are you responsible for this boy?' he rasped, motioning to the bodies scattered around the dais.
'N...no,' stammered George.
How could this be possible?
Darkiron had been dead for hundreds of years.
But even as he watched, Darkiron's decaying body seemed to grow in stature. In the flickering torchlight, George saw Darkiron's muscles bunch beneath his shrivelled skin, a skin that had started to take on a healthier glow. In the ominous silence of the cellar, George imagined he could even hear the Baron's heart beating once more, pumping blood through veins and arteries, feeding the organs and muscles below.
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No, not dead, sleeping, and now that sleep had been disturbed. The magic of the Starheart was reviving him once more.
The Baron raised his sword, 'You lie, I slept but for a moment, and when I awake all around me are treacherously slain.'
The sword flashed downwards. George rolled sideways and the blade clanged against the dais where he had been lying, showering him with sparks.
'You've all been dead for hundreds of years,' George yelled, trying to scramble away from the advancing figure. 'Look at yourself, at the others, they've been lifeless for ages.'
Darkiron paused as if remembering, he looked around the room.
His jaw moved, he coughed dustily. 'I seem to recall an attack on my castle...all destroyed...hiding...but...'
'Step away from my brother, fossil face,' George heard Danielle shouting.
One of Danielle's wind arrows struck Darkiron in the chest, flinging him backwards. Before he could recover a second arrow hit him, knocking him back onto the throne.
'Quickly,' Danielle called out. 'Let's get out of here.'
George jumped to his feet. 'Not without the stone. That's what we came for. We need to get it somehow.'
'It must be what's keeping him alive,' whispered Danielle.
Etran Darkiron climbed shakily to his feet and strode towards them. 'What manner of sorcery is this,' he croaked, glancing down at his chest. Another of Danielle's arrows caught him, but this time, he was prepared and braced himself against it. Even so, the arrow slowed him momentarily.
He glanced at Danielle and Jessica, 'Witches,' he cursed. Then at the stone enclosed in his fist. 'I have sorcery of my own.'
A treacherous grin crossed his grim features. Bringing up the stone, he thrust it towards the sisters. The Starheart grew even brighter, throwing back the shadows of the cellar. Darkiron's form seemed to flicker, and a pulse of ruby red energy shot from the stone.
