Free The Sorcerer's Ascension by Brock Deskins Page B

to consider the unconscious man in the room that was now well on fire, wondering if he should do something. Did the evil man deserve any help?
    Not from him, Azerick decided and ran for the stairs. His only effort at helping the innkeeper and anyone else unfortunate enough to live in the inn was his shouting “fire!” at the top of his lungs. He raced down the stairs, lifted the simple bar that held the front door closed after hours, and raced back into the night. He paused long enough to scoop the clothes he left next to the door back into his bag before darting around the corner.
    Azerick peered around the edge of a distant building and looked back to the inn he had just fled, the roof now nearly engulfed in flames. He spied the cook, a barmaid, and the woman who had told him of his mother’s death now standing outside in their night shifts looking on at the burning building along with a few citizens who lived nearby and had come out to see what the commotion was.
    Of the innkeeper, he saw nothing and was far beyond caring at this point. The accidental arsonist ran off into the darkness of the early morning and pondered his next move.

CHAPTER 5

    “Why do they always hide treasure in the foulest places they can find?” Borik Deepstone complained bitterly for what seemed to be the hundredth time in as many minutes.
    Borik Deepstone was, at first appearance, your typically squat, dour, strong-armed, hardheaded dwarf. He kept his long, reddish brown beard tucked into his broad belt from which hung a large assortment of weapons and smaller tools. He had only two facial expressions that even his closest companions ever saw: thoughtful and contemplative or perturbed and grumpy. Right now, as washis favorite, he was perturbed and grumpy.
    “Where would you hide priceless family heirlooms that you wanted to bury with your dearly departed loved ones, in your beard?” Malek replied.
    Malek Barthalis was a cleric of Solarian, god of morning, bringer of light, destroyer of shadows. His shoulder-length blond hair, fair skin, and deep blue eyes had been the primary factor in the nearly sixty percent increase in attendance of services by female parishioners while he attended seminary. As much as the elder priests appreciated the renewed interest in their churchgoers during the religious services, they did not appreciate the increased attendance of private services the young novitiate gave in the evenings and often throughout the day as well.
    This led to his elder brethren to send him on sabbatical upon completion of his seminary schooling with the primary assignment of ridding Valeria’s alleged plague of undead and the secondary job of bringing the word of Solarian to the masses. And bring word to the masses he did, particularly the female masses.
    “I’m just saying that burying your most prized possessions under tons of stone filled with dust and the rotting remains of some uncle or such ain’t the best way to invest your assets,” Borik shot back as his axe cleaved through the skull of the skeleton that was trying to rip his innards out with its sharp finger bones.
    “I didn’t know that you were so frightened of our life-challenged company, Borik. I thought your kind were fearless in the face of all enemies,” the handsome cleric taunted.
    He bashed the skull of another skeleton to dust with his war hammer, glowing with the feint aura of the blessing he had cast on it for just this purpose. The god of morning hated undead and demanded that his priests share in his loathing of the unnatural creatures.
    The dwarf shouted indignantly as his axe split the spine of another skeleton. “I’m not afraid of no stinking walking corpses!”
    Malek grinned at the surly dwarf, knowing just how to get Borik’s goat. “So is it the thought of the tons of carved stone blocks over our heads, precariously perched just above, waiting for the slightest tremor to come crashing down to squeeze our inside out of our bodily openings like