Atlas watched with cruel satisfaction as the alchemist, leader of the Merchant convoy from Cathay, switched between angry indignation and reluctant acceptance. He had little choice but to comply with the Vampire's demands as his escorts were severely reduced from a series of battles on their way home.
"Forging a sword for… I can do however…" Before Yin-Tuan could finish Atlas interrupted.
"Not just any sword. It needs to be enchanted. Strong, sharp, dangerous."
"Yes of course. I can even let you examine the magical objects in my possession however secrets of my profession are not to be shared."
Atlas felt his lip pull back over his fangs at the refusal. He needed a new sword and Cathay was renowned for their enchanted weapons and if he could examine a range of their magical items, he could further populate the AI's databanks with more runic structures. It was a shame that his desire to learn the secrets of Cathay magic was being denied.
"Is there any room for negotiation?" Atlas's voice was velvet and enticing, he would even consider gifting him immortality through vampirism if that was the price for such knowledge.
"I am sorry. Oaths sworn are not to treat lightly." Atlas stared into the human's eyes, looking for any weakness or sign of greed he could exploit but all he saw was loyalty to his state. He wouldn't get anything more out of him.
"And who among your order could share such with me?"
"Our House of Secrets serves the Zhao Ming – The Iron Dragon of Cathay. You would have to earn his favour to learn our ways."
Take a moment to digest this information, Atlas only knew some about the mysterious Cathay, however what he knew was that despite sending merchant convoys around the known world, the leader rarely, if ever left their territory. The whole kingdom of Cathay was under constant threat from Dark Elves raiding the coast, Greenskins and Chaos Dwarfs from the Darklands and hordes of the Chaos Gods themselves that continually assaulted the Great Bastion.
"If…" Atlas paused, trying to phase his wish in a way that maintained his authority. "If I were to travel to Cathay, would a vampire such as myself be welcomed or treated ill?"
The shock of the question was displayed clearly on Yin-Tuan's face and even exclamations of surprise sounded from some of the merchants who had moved close enough to eavesdrop on the conversation that could seal their fate or be their salvation.
"Grand Cathay has no enmity with your kin however such darkness would not be welcomed. You would need a guarantee, someone to vouch for you."
"Good. Write it up." The command in his voice returned with a smile. It seemed once all was settled, he needed to plan a trip to Cathay.
"Umm…" The alchemist stumbled over his words, he had a position of influence in the City of Shang-Yang where the Iron Dragon ruled, he wouldn't have been chosen to lead the convoy if he didn't. However, to vouch for the conduct of the vampire, to tie his reputation to such a vicious creature that he witnessed tearing goblins and spiders apart with his bare hands for some reason didn't seem logical.
"I don't think I ca…"
"Your escorts are pitifully few. The ones that remain are injured and exhausted. You will never make it through the Dark Lands and back to your home without my aid. Aid I will offer you for this favour."
Pride was crushed by survival. "If you aid us in our journey, you will have my note."
The next few hours seemed to fly by. Atlas bound 100 of the spider riders and their riders to a talisman, giving it to his new ally so that he could command them. Such a swift escort would allow them speedy travel through the dangerous regions, acting as a deterrent for any wondering tribes looking to raid the valuable.
As the merchants set off on a different path the Atlas's followers, a new sword swung by Atlas's side that shone with golden light. Furthermore, the AI chip was silently analysing the runic patterns of the host of items the Cathay group used while safely tucked against his chest was the note of recommendation for Atlas, a key to access the unknown kingdom of humanity.
With them over the horizon, Atlas turned to the sarcophagus, now was time for the Dwarf lich to awaken.
Atlas stood before the sarcophagus, his undead minions gathered around in a silent vigil. The air crackled with arcane energy as the final threads of magic wove their intricate patterns, preparing to awaken the Dwarf Lich from its ageless slumber.
The sound of bones creaking and shifting filled the chamber, echoing off the stone walls with an eerie resonance. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the massive lid of the sarcophagus began to move, inching its way aside with a ponderous, grinding motion.
Bone fingers emerged from the darkness within, gnarled and ancient, reaching out as if testing the air for the first time in centuries. With a solemn reverence, the undead gathered around, their hollow sockets fixed on the emerging form with an anticipation born of magical servitude.
As the lid slid fully aside, revealing the figure within, a hush fell over the chamber. The Dwarf Lich rose from its ancient resting place, its form wrapped in tattered robes of faded grandeur. Its eyes, glowing with an inner fire, surveyed the assembled undead with a cold, calculating gaze.
With a voice like the rumble of distant thunder, the Dwarf Lich spoke, its words echoing through the chamber with a weighty finality. "I am awakened," it intoned, its voice filled with the weight of ages. "What is thy bidding, master?" Despite the skeletal nature, the lich still retained the Dwarfish accent as it spoke, a good sign it had retained some of the skill of its body.
As the Dwarf Lich stepped out from the confines of the sarcophagus, Atlas beheld its form with a mixture of awe and trepidation. Standing at the height of a typical dwarf, its stocky frame was clad in tattered robes that once bore the insignia of a noble house, now faded with age and neglect.
Its bones, thick and sturdy like the mountain stones themselves, carried an air of ancient power and resilience. The skull, adorned with the remnants of a once magnificent beard now reduced to a few straggling strands of matted hair, held the remnants of its former glory. But what caught Atlas's attention were the small red orbs of magic that glowed within the empty eye sockets, illuminating the darkness with an otherworldly brilliance.
These orbs, swirling with arcane energy, spoke volumes of the intelligence and command that dwelled within the Dwarf Lich. Unlike the mindless drones that populated his undead horde, this creature possessed a semblance of consciousness, a spark of sentience that set it apart from its lesser brethren.
As Atlas observed the Dwarf Lich, he could feel the raw magic radiating from its form, a potent aura of death and decay that pulsed with a sinister energy. It was clear that this was no ordinary undead, but a higher being, imbued with the power to learn, grow, and command.
Yet, despite its formidable presence, Atlas knew that his creation was not without its flaws. The spell that had brought the Dwarf Lich to unlife was limited in scope, granting it only the ability to raise the dead. Whether it would be able to learn more spells as it grew remained uncertain, a question that lingered in the back of Atlas's mind as he regarded his creation with a mixture of pride and apprehension.
"Konak," Atlas declared, his voice ringing with triumph, "that shall be your name – the Dwarven word for Blood Gold, fitting for one risen from such rich veins of treasure."
Turning to the newly awakened Dwarf Lich, he explained the daunting challenges that awaited them. "There will be enemies to vanquish and countless dead to raise in service to our cause."
With a determination evident in his glowing red orbs, Konak pledged his loyalty. "I vow my allegiance to you, Master Atlas," he declared, his voice resonating with unwavering resolve.
With their pact sealed, a change occurred in Atlas, as if his body reacted to gaining the allegiance of a new undead – one unique and powerful as a lich. The barrier that held him back in his cultivation was gone.
With a but a single thought, he sent strands of blood energy around his body in complex patterns, derived from the many techniques he had merged. A sudden tensing and then relaxing. Then a burst of power.
Atlas ascended to Marques, a rare breed among the vampires commanding greater physical and magical might. Lost in the feeling of energy coursing through his body, he didn't notice that two days had passed, however his undead stood still as statues waiting for their master's command.
Exploring how his insides had changed, refined into glistening channels for magic to flow, he looked for the next obstacle for him to overcome in his cultivation. However despite searching, he found nothing.
The energy that gave him such a boost in power floated inside him, concentrated down to a single droplet of magic. That droplet however was alone in the vast void of his body, like a single tear attempting to revive a dried lake. It simply wasn't enough.
Not letting the scale of his next stage of cultivation get him down, Atlas, Konak and Strickler mounted the now-risen Giant Arachnid to lead their forces out of the mountains and into the dark expanse of the Dark Lands, where the scent of ash hung heavy on the wind; a harbinger of the trials that awaited them.