–==Official Submission==–
FROM: General Debinani Rahl
RE: Chapter Nineteen – In a Vampire”s Stead

The storm was raging over the island of ice. Two men stood
staring at each other across a small clearing, the storm
blowing their robes and cloaks about, threatening to tear
furs and blow back hoods and reveal their identities. But
the wind’s labors were unnecessary. The men both knew who
the other was.

The one who was once Pietr the Fisherman and is now Whisper
the Ringwielder grinned at his opponent wickedly. He had
been waiting for this moment to come, and come it had. The
aging man across the clearing squinted against the storm,
endeavoring to get a measure of his target. He had come
because he had to, because the repercussions of his
ignoring the summons would have been grave indeed.

“You have been chosen,” shouted Whisper above the howl of
the wind.

“Go to hell, Strangler,” shouted the other man, “Shut up
and let’s get on with it.”

The Ringwielder grinned with malicious glee.

And then it began. Magical fire erupted from both men,
melting the snow and ice and consuming everything that
could burn. The signs of their battle lit the skies, some
villagers in Moonglow and Minoc claim to have seen the
lights in the sky to the North that night. Their conflict
went on for hours, thrust and parry, stroke and counter-
stroke, matching each other spell for deadly spell. Whisper
wielded the wind itself as a weapon while the other man
brought forth creatures from the netherlands to do his
bidding. The devastation they left in their wake was
terrible. Soon though, the storm that wrapped the island
waned, the fires and explosions ceased.

Two men, burnt and bloodied with only tatters remaining to
protect them from the cold, stood arm to arm, the vapor
from failed spells of destruction lifting from their
fingertips. Whisper smiled, for he knew he would get his
power back before the mortal man. The other man smiled as
well and then gave the Ringwielder a strong right-hook to
the jaw.

Whisper went down in a heap and the other man kicked the
immortal till he heard ribs shatter under the blows, then
fell to his knees in exhaustion. The man swayed with the
wind as unconsciousness threatened to take him and rob him
of his life in the snowy wastes and then he saw his
opponent’s eyes snap open. The man instantly formed a spell
and sent it on it’s way but the Ringwielder was one step
ahead. The spell bounced off the battered Strangler and
blew the other several yards back against the wall of a
nearby cottage.

Whisper straightened painfully and walked over to the
shuddering man. With one hand, he lifted him up by the neck
and pressed him against the wall. With his other hand he
fingered an ornate ring with a black stone and roses carved
into the band. He looked from the ring to the defiant eyes
of his prisoner and a wicked grin crept across the
immortal’s face.

“How wonderfully ironic…” he said with a chuckle.