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Before you stands a magnificent warrior, tall and broad-shouldered, clad in purple satin and shiny steel mail. He holds you with his jade-green eyes and says: ‘I am the Slavemaster. Remove your mask, Drakkar, and reveal your true self.’
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Your Kai senses tell you that he speaks the truth: he is the Slavemaster of Aarnak, and he has recognized the words that identify you as a fellow-agent of the Elder Magi. But the many years he has spent as a servant of the Darklords has taught him to be wary of their subterfuge, and not until you remove your battle-mask and he looks upon your unmistakably Sommlending features does he accept you as genuine. ‘Long have I waited for this moment,’ he says, quietly. ‘I know why you have come and I will help you all I can.’
‘But why?’ you reply, now suspicious of his true motives. ‘Why do you desire to betray your masters? Have they not given you the power you crave?’
‘Aye! That they have, but at a grievous price. Since the war began, they have demanded that the foundries and ore pits of Aarnak produce ever-increasing supplies of black steel. The quotas are impossible and I fear that the day is close when I will be of no more use to them. Ultimately, the Darklords destroy everything over which they have control—cities, land, races, even their own kind. The Elder Magi have promised me sanctuary in return for my help, and help I shall, for my life is dependent on your success.’ He smiles, amused by the irony of his situation, and then he bids you follow him to an adjoining chamber. ‘Come, you must prepare for your journey to the Black City.’
