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No one ever came to the tower anymore. Giz couldn't really quite
figure out why… After all, he'd done his very best to ensure
that everything was welcoming to guests in every way, shape and
fashion! Had he not groomed the werebears and put little pink
bows in their hair? The gargoyles had been fed and their teeth
filed down, the green… er, thing, in the moat had been put back
into its home dimension for the night, and even the wailing wisps had
readily received the spell of silence he'd put on them!
The suits of armor by the front door had been instructed to NOT
mercilessly slaughter any living thing that crossed the
threshold… well, that is, that was taller than a goblin,
anyway. Those darn magic caterpillars were getting in from
SOMEWHERE, and darn it all, if it was the front door, then the armor
had BETTER be killing those things, by cracker!
Giz scratched at the white bony plates of his forehead absently as he
peered into the thin vial before him. His latest spell research
was coming to a close, a spell that might just explain why no one
wanted to come say hello in a neighborly fashion anymore. It had
taken him months to retrieve the various spell components, and even
then people were often quite reluctant to sell the ingredients to him.
Heck, in the port town of Briarside, he'd been forced to fight his way
into the town itself and leave hundreds dead in his wake, all for a
single leaf of nightshade. The guards hadn't even tried to listen
to reason. All he'd wanted to do is come into town, go to the
graveyard and pluck the plant off of that nice elf's grave marker and
be on his way.
Matter of fact, he'd known that elf, a long time ago. Giz paused
for a moment as the memory drifted lazily into his
consciousness… it was quite a long time ago, but he could still
taste the blood as the elf carried him away from the ruined city of
Tiar. It had been his home, and those demons…
The demons…
Giz shook his head, chasing the memory back to wherever old memories
were stored. No, dwelling on memories was a fool's errand…
there were more important things to do! Which he'd tried to
explain to the guards, of course.
And they hadn't believed a word he said. Upon recollection, Giz
began to wonder if perhaps the guards couldn't even understand his
words anymore. It had been so very long since he last spoke to
another creature; perhaps he'd simply forgotten the right words?
Do you lose your language skills if you don't use them?
Giz shook his head again as the distractions continued. The vial
shook in his unsteady hands as he carefully crushed the last ingredient
into the vial, the debris from the small stones drifting between his
fingers easily, unimpeded by the boundaries of sinew. Giz cursed
slightly as he dusted some of the material back into the vial, hoping
idly that the concoction could handle the addition of a bit of dust as
well.
The light in his eyes flared to life as he watched the vial bubble
slightly. The recipe he'd discovered in the lava pools of the
wasteland had seemed fairly simple enough; just mix everything
together, and ask a question once the genie appeared. He'd
followed everything to the letter, every step replicated faithfully.
Well, except for that last part. Giz hated his bony hands, and he
wondered idly if he should gain a bit of weight. That might help
keep things from slipping between his fingers all the darn time…
Distracted again, Giz nearly missed the smoke trailing out of the end
of the vial. He spun back around and watched greedily as the
smoke continued to rise, his fingers twisting upon themselves in
anticipation. Finally, an honest-to-god genie appeared in the
smoke, her scantily-clad back to Giz.
She flipped her hair once and turned around. As she turned, she
said, "Ah, welcome to my new master, what may…I…"
Her voice dropped as the sight before her came into full focus, and she
stared at Giz in a mixture of shock and horror.
After an uncomfortable silence, Giz cleared his throat and said, "Ah…"
He never had a chance to say any more than that. The genie
released a shriek of absolute terror, right before she conjured up a
few blasts of fire that sent Giz careening away toward the back of his
chamber. With one final scream of terror, the genie disappeared
again.
It took Giz a few minutes to compose himself enough to where he could
force himself back to his feet again. He shook his head,
muttering, "Damn, and I was so close to the answer too." He
straightened his cloak out absently as he walked past a mirror.
The mirror caught his attention for a moment, and Giz admired the man staring back at him from the reflection.
Ah, what a man, Giz thought. He still was beautiful, even after
all these years. It just didn't make sense that no one wanted to
even converse with him anymore! I mean, come on! That frame
of bone, standing tall without the impediment of flesh and the withered
meat that used to hang on them? Beautiful, absolutely
beautiful. The sockets where his eyes had been? Now
replaced by wonderfully burning plumes of fire, fire that changed color
depending on his mood. He'd been so proud of those when he'd
finally replaced the old, worn-out and decaying grey orbs that had been
there…
Yes, he was beautiful. No more flesh to worry about aging and
withering away, no more bodily functions to embarrass himself in front
of guests, no more stench of just being old, none of that. Giz
the lich adjusted his cloak slightly before nodding once in
satisfaction.
Yes, he was beautiful.
So it had to be something else keeping people away from his tower. Yeah, that was it.
No one EVER came to his tower anymore. And Giz was going to find out why.
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