The Rising Evil

By Delta

      Ryst sighed as she walked through the holy city of Sigil. "What a bore," she thought to herself. "Everything is the same around here." Ryst, a paladin well-known for her fighting abilities and even better known for her healing powers, made her daily check of Sigil, making sure no varmints were in sight. Hearing a commotion near the gates, she wielded her magical staff and lazily jogged to the north.

      "Another bandit raid," Ryst grumbled. "This city is quite a drudge. Why can't the bad guys do something more exciting?" Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Ryst quickened her pace, hoping that Enoch wasn't frowning upon her.

      Little did Ryst know that her wish would soon be granted.


      "Bring him in," the figure in the dark cloak growled.

      A few minutes later, a man clad in white was thrust into the room. Holding what seemed to be a blue glowing staff, the man looked around warily. The dark cloaked figure slipped out of the shadows. The newly arrived man's face filled with terror.

      "So you are one of those fallen inquisitors they talk about," the cloaked figure snickered.

      The other man nodded nervously, his mouth moving but no sound coming forth.

      "You may call me Gemulon."

      The inquisitor, quite pale by now, croaked, "I...I have the information you wanted."

      "Good!" Gemulon boomed, making the very shadows in the room dance in their places. "Go ahead."

      "Well," the inquisitor started, feeling a little more confident, started. "The north gates of Sigil are heavily guarded by inquisitors, and the streets are patrolled at all times..."


      Thwacking a bandit above the head, Ryst turned and chanted a healing spell in the direction of an inquisitor that was being attacked on four sides at once. Ryst spun around just in time to see a knife being thrust at her. Chanting strange words again, a blast of ice appeared out of nowhere and froze the bandit in place. Ryst knocked the ice statue into pieces, and hit another bandit into unconsciousness. Looking around, she noticed that the bandits were starting to flee, and none of the inquisitors had been wounded beyond healing. Smiling, Ryst walked back towards the Crusader's Order to help heal the wounded.

      "Thank you Enoch for helping us to triumph over the evil and impure once again. Through your blessings Sigil will be forever protected." Ryst paused as she finished her prayer. She felt a foreboding sense of evil. Well trained in the faith, Ryst could sense when evil was near. Hurrying off, Ryst decided to go talk to the pope.


      "... and in that room the Pope will sit," the inquisitor finished, seeming all the more sure of himself.

      Gemulon frowned. "They are better fortified than I had expected, but I am sure that will be no problem, thanks to your disclosure of all the secrets."

      The inquisitor nodded. "Now about the other part of the deal..."

      Gemulon laughed evilly as he turned around. "Hah! So you wish to join the ranks of the Aramon? I will have to think about it."

      The inquisitor started, "I will..."

      Gemulon turned again to face the man. "I have made my decision."

      The inquisitor tensed.

      Gemulon said, "I welcome you to the ranks of death knights. May the evil of Aramon help you in your battles."

      The inquisitor breathed a sign of relief. "When may I start my training?"

      Gemulon looked at the man puzzlingly, then let out a tremendous burst of laughter. "YOU! Join the ranks of Aramon? Your deity is a disgrace, and Aramon will not even want to look at the likes of you!"

      The startled man almost fell to his knees in surprise. "But, but..."

      Gemulon loomed menacingly over the fallen holy man. "I have always wondered if the blood of the good is as blue as they say it is."

      As he spoke, Gemulon drew a long, wicked blade from his dark cloaks. The inquisitor's eyes grew wide in horror, and started to plea for mercy. "Silence!" Gemulon snarled as he shoved the blade through the inquisitor's throat. Gemulon watched as the inquisitor, foaming at the mouth, slumped to the floor, his eyes rolling backwards in their sockets. Drawing the blade from the dead man's throat, Gemulon slowly wiped the blood from the edge of the blade.

      "Red," Gemulon roared as he let out a hideous laugh that echoed through the chambers of the death temple. "Bloody red!"