Jean Rabe - Red Magic

"Watch me!" she hissed, motioning for one of the soldiers to step forward. The disconcerted target complied quickly, and she began to circle him, rising and falling on her snake body, making him feel ill at ease.

"Defend yourself, clown!"

The naga waited for the gnoll to draw his weapon, then smiled when she noted that it wavered in his trembling hand. She circled him as more sweat gathered on his face, then moved closer and nodded for him to assume the defensive stance he had been practicing. His brothers backed away to give the pair room, and she lunged out at him, striking like a cobra and swinging her sword so it clanged loudly against his. The gnoll fought to retain hold of the weapon and bent his knees for a better defensive position. He seemed afraid to return her swing, a fatal mistake in Asp's eyes.

"Good," she said as she ran her finger along the edge of her blade. "You've mastered the right defensive stance. Now, everyone observe this, and we'll see just how well your fellow can preserve his mottled hide."

Asp continued to slash at the gnoll, and each time he brought his sword up to parry hers. She was toying with him, having picked a soldier less competent than most for her morbid demonstration. She made three more swings, each stopped by the soldier. Then the naga tired of the game and changed her rhythm, catching the gnoll off guard and slicing through his shaggy hide and into his rib cage. The gnoll howled in pain, dropped his sword, and held his hands over the wound in an attempt to keep the blood from spilling out. He backed away from Asp, thinking the demonstration over, but the naga pressed her attack, swinging at his right arm.

Two swings and the gnoll's arm fell to the ground, blood spurting from his shoulder and jetting onto the naga. The creature fell to his knees, pleading for his life but receiving no support from the others, who remained at attention as they watched the scene in horror.

"Vary your sword thrusts as I have shown you. Keep your opponent guessing. Keep your eyes locked onto his, and show no mercy," Asp instructed coldly. "Above all, show no mercy!" With that, the naga placed both hands on the hilt of her sword and brought the weapon down with all her strength, cleaving the gnoll's head in two. He crumpled, and she presented the bloodied sword to the soldier from whom she had borrowed it.

"I hope this demonstration has been of some help," Asp stated without emotion as once again she began to slither back and forth in front of the gnolls. "Soon you will be joined by two other forces, both larger than yours, and you will march on a mission of great importance, a mission in the name of Zulkir Maligor. You must be at your best. Anything less will bring quick death upon you and disgrace to the zulkir."

Asp wiped an index finger across her arm to collect her victim's blood, then licked it off with her thin tongue while the gnolls watched.

"Your sergeants will work with you the rest of the day. See to it that you pay attention. For Maligor!"

"For Maligor!" they chanted.

Szass Tam stared at Asp's exquisite face and wondered idly how a creature of such beauty could be so malicious. For a moment, he almost envied Maligor. Then the lich muddled over the gnoll force.

The Zulkir of Necromancy had held his position for nearly two centuries, and during that time, he had watched wizards and other zulkirs build forces, march against each other, or march against the armies at the borders of Aglarond and Mulhorand. Few of the attacks had been successful, as the wizards never worked together. When they fought each other, they simply managed to perpetuate mistrust and suspicion between the wizards; this led to political treachery and double crosses.

The lich doubted that whatever Maligor was planning would work either, but nevertheless it gnawed at him.

Szass Tam knew that Zulkir Maligor, in charge of Thay's School of Alteration Magic, had contented himself the past few decades to false dealings with lesser wizards and power plays that netted him shares of wealthy merchants' profits and goods. Maligor didn't strike the lich as the type of wizard who favored physical assaults or large-scale battles, and because of that, the lich had not viewed Maligor as a threat. He thought Maligor had been keeping the gnolls as more of a deterrent to other Red Wizards than as an offensive force.

Szass Tam, on the other hand, frequently went on the offensive. Typical of all liches, he desired nothing more than to enhance his own power at any cost. And Szass Tam's idea of power was nothing less than complete control of Thay. However, unlike the other zulkirs, Szass Tam had centuries in which to work his evil plan. Szass Tam was not of this world anymore, having progressed beyond mere human existence to an undead state. Like his undead army, he no longer required sleep or food, which allowed him all the time he needed to lavish over magical tomes and build his supernatural might. Furthermore, he possessed an unearthly patience that would let him wait a dozen decades or more before he moved against all of Thay to swallow his fellow zulkirs and proclaim himself king of the evil land. During that waiting time, he would research spells the other wizards only dreamed of and increase his army of undead.

And also during that time, he would continue to work with the Council of Zulkirs, watching each zulkir closely and keeping abreast of all their schemes and dealings. Szass Tam would continue to note their weaknesses and strengths in order to decide how best to overcome them when the time was right to strike. That time would come far in the future, when some of the current zulkirs would be rotting in their graves, waiting for the lich to enlist them into his army. For now, the lich enjoyed toying with the other wizards; he would not move against them until he was certain he could crush all of them-and preferably all at once. He would not work with them individually in the meantime. He did not trust any of the other Red Wizards, and he regarded joining forces with them as a show of his own weakness.

Gazing at the crystal ball, Szass Tam saw the naga instructing a smaller group of gnolls who wore leather breastplates and were more heavily armed. Perhaps these are Maligor's generals, the lich mused. Asp was demanding better performance. The clang of swords covered up most of the conversation; the gnolls were working hard to improve.

Tiring of the display, the lich ran his hand over the crystal, and the colors reappeared, obscuring the scene. The glow from the ball faded, and Szass Tam pushed himself away from his desk, taking up the scarlet robe he had laid across the back of his chair and putting it on over his simple, long linen tunic. The robe hung loosely on the lich's cadaverous form. The folds draped to the floor and made the costly garment appear several sizes too large.

Szass Tam did nothing to mask his appearance when he was alone or with his undead minions. Only in public did he put on a truly human face-one of a tall, scholarly man with jet-black eyes and fleshy cheeks. To walk around looking like an undead creature would unnerve too many important Thayvians. He also knew that appearances were frequently deceiving in his country and that other zulkirs and their underlings also masked their true likenesses.

His frail-looking arms were nearly lost in the sleeves of the silken robe. The edges of the garment and the trim around the hood were embroidered with gold thread seeded with garnets. The lich enjoyed the fineries of human manufacture, like his expensive clothes and jewels. Others of his foul kind preferred to remain in the clothes they died in, looking like ill-preserved mummies and smelling like the grave. Szass Tam believed clothes presented an image, and thus he always decorated himself in the latest and most costly fashions.