\--==Official Submission==-- FROM: General Debinani Rahl RE: Chapter Nineteen - In a Vampire''s Stead The storm was raging over the island of ice. Two men stood staring at each other across a small clearing, the storm blowing their robes and cloaks about, threatening to tear furs and blow back hoods and reveal their identities. But the wind's labors were unnecessary. The men both knew who the other was. The one who was once Pietr the Fisherman and is now Whisper the Ringwielder grinned at his opponent wickedly. He had been waiting for this moment to come, and come it had. The aging man across the clearing squinted against the storm, endeavoring to get a measure of his target. He had come because he had to, because the repercussions of his ignoring the summons would have been grave indeed. "You have been chosen," shouted Whisper above the howl of the wind. "Go to hell, Strangler," shouted the other man, "Shut up and let's get on with it." The Ringwielder grinned with malicious glee. And then it began. Magical fire erupted from both men, melting the snow and ice and consuming everything that could burn. The signs of their battle lit the skies, some villagers in Moonglow and Minoc claim to have seen the lights in the sky to the North that night. Their conflict went on for hours, thrust and parry, stroke and counter- stroke, matching each other spell for deadly spell. Whisper wielded the wind itself as a weapon while the other man brought forth creatures from the netherlands to do his bidding. The devastation they left in their wake was terrible. Soon though, the storm that wrapped the island waned, the fires and explosions ceased. Two men, burnt and bloodied with only tatters remaining to protect them from the cold, stood arm to arm, the vapor from failed spells of destruction lifting from their fingertips. Whisper smiled, for he knew he would get his power back before the mortal man. The other man smiled as well and then gave the Ringwielder a strong right-hook to the jaw. Whisper went down in a heap and the other man kicked the immortal till he heard ribs shatter under the blows, then fell to his knees in exhaustion. The man swayed with the wind as unconsciousness threatened to take him and rob him of his life in the snowy wastes and then he saw his opponent's eyes snap open. The man instantly formed a spell and sent it on it's way but the Ringwielder was one step ahead. The spell bounced off the battered Strangler and blew the other several yards back against the wall of a nearby cottage. Whisper straightened painfully and walked over to the shuddering man. With one hand, he lifted him up by the neck and pressed him against the wall. With his other hand he fingered an ornate ring with a black stone and roses carved into the band. He looked from the ring to the defiant eyes of his prisoner and a wicked grin crept across the immortal's face. "How wonderfully ironic..." he said with a chuckle.