Shro the Elder waved his servants away as they set the gilded and inlaid chair down at the bottom of the stairs. They had served their purpose in carrying him down the long set of stone steps and now were inconsequential to him. The ancient noble reached one trembling hand into his robe and withdrew a heavy brass key from an inner pocket, leaned forward and pushed the key into the lock on the door. The effort tired the old man, so he leaned back into the chair's upholstery for a moment to catch his breath and let his heartbeat slow down. He ground non-existent teeth in frustration at how age had robbed him of his youth and vitality and now, not satisfied with feeding tick-like on his body, age was starting to try to cloud his mind. He had noticed, over the last few months, that he kept mistaking his latest wife for his sixth wife, even though they had different color hair. His sixth wife would be in her forties, while his current wife was only sixteen, being the daughter of a merchant who had refused Shro the Elder's offers to buy his business and had lost everything, even his life, to his own stubbornness.

Having regained his strength from the warm feeling brought on by the memory of discovering that the shopkeeper had gotten out his old sword from his mercenary days and fallen on it, Shro reached out, turned the key and pushed on the door with his foot. The door swung open silently and Shro stood up, his legs trembling hard enough to cause his long white beard to sway back and forth before he shakily entered the room beyond. His faltering footsteps carried him to a large cushioned chair, which he sank into gratefully as he looked around the specially prepared room.

Once he realized that the God of Death cared not for his power and wealth and that, like most men, his time was running out, Shro the Elder had spent much of his remaining months researching the ancient and powerful heroes, villains and immortals who still waged their titanic struggle against one another across the world. The powers of undeath fueled many; immortality gained through obscure, unknown or obviously impossible means kept others going. Some used ancient magics and rituals to keep their youth, vitality and power intact, while still others somehow acquired a spark of divinity through unknown means.

A black stone bier rested in the middle of the room, its top engraved with runes of power that had been filled with gold, silver, copper and glittering deep violet astralite. Four concentric rings surrounded the stone slab, engraved into the floor and inlaid with precious metals and gems. They were designed to channel and enhance arcane power. The walls of the room were also carved with swirling patterns that drew the eye from the room over to the chair where Shro the Elder was sitting. Around the chair, which was just as rich and decorative as the rest of the room, a sixth circle of runes and patterns throbbed with restrained power.

Shro had already assisted the dark wizard in sacrificing virgins and infants within the room to empower its sigils and runes, had watched as maidens were defiled and then murdered. The height of all of it had come when Shro had assisted the dark wizard in strangling an elfin maiden with her own hair and ever since then the runes and glyphs and sigils had glowed with an inner light. These circles were designed to capture Fraker's essence, channel it through the sigils and patterns into Shro the Elder himself.

While the necromancer had assured him that any immortal would do, Shro the Elder, upon hearing that Fraker the Axe was approaching the city, had made his decision quickly. Fraker the Axe was the last remaining member of his nomadic tribe and Shro had found out that Fraker's people had worshiped a minor deity that seemed as if she had just vanished. The Goddess had been a fertility goddess, worshiped by the entire tribe, and had been wedded to a ferocious war god who was only worshiped by the men, both of whom had also vanished into the mists of time.

Through his research Shro the Elder had become convinced that somehow Fraker had gained a modicum of power from his tribe's ancient deities. His voracious appetite for love-sweat slick flesh was legendary and the fact that Shro's research had discovered that whatever path Fraker wandered was littered with pregnant women had only further convinced him that the legendary hero had been touched by his Goddess directly.

The Circle of Equals had no idea how much of the trade town's wealth Shro had spent discovering ancient and powerful rituals and hiring a wizard who would be able to utilize those rituals to transfer Fraker's essence into Shro the Elder. The wizard he had hired was an outlaw, a vile caster of forbidden and obscene ritual magics of blood and pain; a worshiper of IV herself, who believed that his worship of the dark entity that had once ruled the world was his ticket to life eternal, a man to whom nothing was forbidden, providing it gained him power or wealth or satisfied his dark desires. Shro had promised the cadaverous man all he wished, and the dark wizard's pale eyes had glowed brightly as Shro the Elder had made his promises.

The wizard had designed the room that Shro had built in secret and now sat within. When the workers had completed building the room to the wizard's exacting specifications, the wizard had used the worker's blood and life force to seal the room and prepare it for the task of removing Fraker's life essence and transferring it into Shro the Elder. Shro cared not for the supposed rewards offered by others that could be gained by slaying Fraker the Axe. He wanted Fraker's essence for himself.

The room was finally ready, Fraker the Axe had returned from destroying the bandits and was at Lomdus' manor enjoying his reward, and he knew that by sunrise the man would be dead. Shro the Elder would be immortal soon after. And Shro knew all it would take was a simple vial of poison.

* * * * *

Lomdus stared at the giant as he ducked through the front door of Lomdus' estate, smiling broadly. Lomdus realized that he had never noticed that Fraker's teeth were different than other men. Rather than the normal incisors, Fraker's front teeth were nothing more than meat tearing canines, sharp and interlocked like those of a wolf or a demon. Lomdus wondered why he had never noted that fact before.

"Afternoon, Honorable Lomdus." The huge warrior stopped in the foyer and smiled down at the bent and old man in front of him.

"Good afternoon, Legendary Fraker," Lomdus said, feeling nervous. The small vial of venom, purchased at great price, felt heavy in his pocket. "Is there news of the bandits that have been plaguing the Northern Trade Road?"

"Beyond the fact I killed them all? Not really." Fraker shrugged. He looked around at the house, taking note of the delicate crystal, finely wrought porcelain and intricate inlay set into precious woods. It was a nice enough house, Fraker supposed, but it was a little too delicate for him. Fraker could see that the house was nearly impossible to defend, there were too many windows for foes to use to enter the house and it was entirely too vulnerable to fire and magic.

Lomdus watched the hero look around and wondered exactly what the other man was thinking about. When Fraker's eyes reached the balcony, his face lit up. Lomdus knew then exactly what the hero was seeing, and thus, thinking about.

"Are all those for me?" Fraker asked, staring at the balcony.

"As many as you can take, in the agreed upon time-span," Lomdus replied and flinched back slightly as Fraker smiled even wider and exposed those inhuman teeth.

"You are indeed a man of your word, Lomdus," Fraker said, his eyes raking the exposed flesh of the men and women posturing on the balcony. He quickly stripped out of his shirt and handed it absently to Lomdus, undoing his belt as he moved toward the stairs while kicking his feet to get loose of his boots.

Lomdus watched with an awareness of the vial in his pocket and apprehension tinged with amusement as Fraker rushed up the stairs. A few of the women tittered at the sight of the massive hero approaching them and one woman gave a wickedly sensual laugh that caressed even Lomdus' senses as she stepped forward and lifted her bare breasts up for the hero to see.

"Ensure that Honorable Fraker has access to hard spirits and food while he selects his companions from those of the men and women he is ... ummm ... interviewing right now." Laughter and a shriek of delight came from the balcony and Lomdus' face flushed, as did the serving man's face whom Lomdus was talking to. A corset, torn down the front, sailed out from the balcony and landed in the crystal chandelier.

"Yes, milord," the serving man said, glancing upward at the balcony and then quickly back to Lomdus' face.

"Remember, plenty of spirits, plenty of food and you should be safe as long as you are fully clothed," Lomdus reassured the servant. "I will be speaking to the rest of the Council and plan on being back by nightfall."

"Yes, milord," the serving man said as he ducked underneath a large boot adorned with an iron spur that had sailed across the room.

"Try to make sure that my manor has not burned to the ground."

* * * * *

Lomdus cringed as the sound of breaking crystal was followed by bellowing laughter. The Circle of Equals seemed satisfied now that guards had spoken with the former prisoners. A chest of silver the weight of one elvish maiden would be brought to Lomdus' manor in the morning; if Fraker still survived. The silver itself would be coated with contact venom strong enough to kill a horse. The Council was still smugly convinced that their plans would do in the legendary hero, yet Lomdus himself wasn't so sure.

The vial trembled slightly as Lomdus carefully shook four drops of the clear, odorless venom into the large stein of whiskey mixed with mead. They plinked into the foul concoction with barely a ripple but Lomdus felt his heart rate accelerating with each deadly drop. Sweat covering his pate, Lomdus left the kitchen, pocketing the rest of the vial of venom as he had already used three times the normal amount required to kill an ox.

He headed toward the large dining room where a servant, blushing furiously, pulled open the door to reveal a heaving, surging mass of naked flesh in the middle of the carpet. The table had been flung against the far wall and the chairs tossed around it. A statue was half covered by a mixture of male and female clothing. One of Lomdus' ancestors looked slightly mournful beneath the brassiere that was draped over his stony brow.

The movement of the mass of flesh stopped at the sound of the doors opening and Fraker pushed himself out of the middle of the pile, sitting up to lean back against the bare buttocks of a burly young man. The hero grinned at Lomdus and cupped one hand around a woman's breast, lifting it up.

"You know why the Gods don't give men breasts like this?" the hero asked, jiggling the contents of his massive paw for punctuation.

"I don't know, Honored Hero," Lomdus said, approaching the now still pile of men and women. Bright, hungry and lustful eyes watched him move and he tried to ignore the rather obvious male and female charms on display. He carefully picked his way through the bodies and held out the stein toward Fraker.

"Because all we'd do is dance in front of the mirror all day!" Fraker laughed, let go of the woman's breast and reached out to take the stein from Lomdus. Lomdus felt sweat running down his back freely as Fraker took a long pull of the stein. When Fraker stopped and looked at Lomdus suddenly, the elder statesman had to quash the urge to run away screaming.

"You did some research on me, didn't you, Lomdus? Talked to sages and priests and the like?" Fraker growled, then, to Lomdus' surprise, took another long pull off the stein.

"Yes, Honorable Hero, I did," Lomdus admitted, pushing down the urge to start screaming as Fraker looked into the mug again.

"That's how you know this is my favorite!" Fraker blurted out, his homely face breaking into a smile that was only slightly marred by the thick scar across his nose. He took another deep pull of the stein, not stopping until he was done with every last drop, going so far as to upend the stein and shake it.

"Ovistark, by the Gods! Rare and expensive as hell but it tastes great in whiskey!" Fraker held out the mug to Lomdus. "Be a good man and refill that, add an extra drop or two if you'd be so kind."

As Lomdus stumbled away from Fraker, a lump of ice in his belly, he heard Fraker address the men and women surrounding him. "Looks like I'm going to be able to get nice and drunk after all!"

"If you see an elf out there, one with yellow hair and extra pointy ears, bring him in here. I've been looking for him for a while!" Fraker called out just before the doors slammed shut. Lomdus sagged against the wall, terror filling him. The Circle of Equals had indeed been just as foolish as he had feared and Lomdus, himself, had almost paid the price.

Lomdus began to shake as he realized just how insignificant the plans of the Council were.

* * * * *

Fraker stood at the top of the stairs, blearily trying to make out the first step. He knew he had a good drunk going on as he felt sore and tired in all the right places but the selection of men and women that councilman or whatever he was had provided had tired out long before he was sated.

Now, if he could just figure out how to get down the stairs, he could go see if any maids or serving-men were up for some recreation. Fraker shook his head and smiled to himself crookedly. That one maid, the one with the wide hips, she'd whispered naughty things into his ear after dinner and she was built just like he liked them: thick and padded for riding the distance.

Fraker looked down at the steps, noticing that there seemed to be an awful lot of them and that they were canting back and forth slightly. Still, it was just a flight of stairs. It should pose no problems for someone who had climbed a glacier with only his bare hands.

Taking a deep breath to try to push back the alcohol fumes, Fraker took a single step forward onto the stairwell. He misjudged badly, overstepping the first step by at least two feet. Overbalanced, Fraker wind-milled his arms to no avail as he slowly tipped forward.

With a resounding crash, Fraker hit the stairs which, in their defense, were only made of wood and had been laid down more than a century before. The massive man slammed into the wood and crashed through it; splinters and shattered wood shot up from the hole as Fraker plunged from sight.

Fraker felt the stairs crumble and managed to grab a hold on a chunk of wood but it snapped away from the wall and Fraker stared at it dumbly for a long moment, trying to figure out why he was holding three pieces of broken wood that wavered like the weeds of a stream. He was unaware that the piece of wood had held long enough so that, rather than plunge face first into the darkness, Fraker was now face up.

He was still trying to figure out exactly what was going on when his back hit a heavy beam, the beam holding for a moment before breaking in half with a loud crack. Fraker got a quizzical look on his face as pain flared in his back and his legs went from warm and tingly to feeling nothing at all. For some reason, it reminded him of being struck in the back with a battleaxe at the City of Lanterns.

Fraker hit the floor of the basement in a shower of broken wood and a puff of dust. Fraker grunted from the impact and stared up at the hole he had left. He could see a large broken beam, two broken ceilings, two broken floors, the hole in the steps and what looked like part of his shirt caught on a broken spur of wood.

The house shuddered visibly and groaned like a creature in pain. Voices were being raised in alarm and the house shuddered again. Fraker could see the ceiling of the room where he had fallen through the steps start to sag slowly and the edges of the hole he had left in his fall into the basement began leaning inward as well.

"Oooh, that's not good," Fraker whispered as the house groaned again and plaster shattered off of the sagging ceiling as the sides of the hole leaned in even further. With a roar, the guest wing of the manor of Lomdus the Lame began to collapse.

"Aw, ox biscuits."