‘You found Ghal Maraz, Thostos,’ said Lord Vandus. ‘A tremendous achievement.’
The skyvault corridors of the palace Sigmaron rang to the footsteps of the two warrior lords as they strode towards their Stormhosts in the celestine vaults.
‘Yet I failed to claim it,’ said Thostos. The warrior’s voice was strangely flat and monotonous. His mask, thought Vandus. It was merely the effect of his mask.
‘With a dozen Stormhosts and an open Realmgate close by, we’ll have it soon enough,’ said Vandus.
‘The sorcerer will not yield it easily.’
‘Then we shall prise it from the claws of his corpse.’
The two Lord-Celestants strode on, the sound of the great muster growing louder in the distance.
‘Lord Thostos,’ ventured Vandus. ‘Forgive me, but I must ask. Your Reforging. Has it… has it changedyou? Are we truly eternal?’
Thostos stopped for a second, and met Vandus’ gaze. Behind the mask, Vandus saw blue fires burning. They were much like will-o’-the-wisps – the soul-stuff of those cursed forever to a twilight existence.
‘Yes,’ said Thostos, turning away to march onward.
- The Quest for Ghal Maraz.