quests

The shrine had been a whim of a visit. Volund hadn’t really expected an answer, though he doesn’t quite know why he hadn’t expected one. Perhaps it was because of his own upbringing, of up in the north and their beliefs. 

Certainly they had believed in Fortune and all the others, but it was practically forbidden to consult with them. To fall into temptation and gain what could not normally be obtained. Then again, most of his homeland were magicless, and here he is, with an innate ability that bubbles in his very veins, crawls along his body and offers a taste of intoxicating power. Ah how he misses the taste of power, especially that of Kings.

Corruption, however, is a power that falls in deep, into the lore of his lands.

Corruption stems from those that want too much power, that are greedy, at least that was the story here.

Back home, corruption comes from that which cannot be obtained. A powerful mage had been told in legend; a Lich of extreme power. With every drop of corruption came more power, came abilities that were so powerful that they were nearly godlike. It had been a tale of caution to some, but to Volund? This was a tale that he wanted to obtain. To gain ability and power, ever since he had realized that he even had magic. Yes, corruption comes at a price, but he's fallen too far from everything to care anymore. The beginning of his life had been terribly rough, and he had dragged himself from the bottom and climbed the ladders with bloody teeth and nails.

This is no different.

It comes with a small price, and he will gain more and more power. Corruption is nothing to him; he no longer cares what becomes of him. Perhaps he'll attain the level of the Lich of legend, and go back north and rain flaming hell on everyone that had ever done him wrong, starting with his father and sister.

He snorts, shaking his head a little before he steps through the small village, shoulders rounded and eyes glancing to and fro. 

People scurry like rats, and he curls his lips into a sneer for a moment, coming across a small vending stall. There's gold trinkets, and a very small woman tending them, a smile on her lips as she talks away to someone nearby. He reaches, his fingers curling around several pieces and he takes them, continuing his walk as he does, smoothly pocketing them. It's so easily done that no one really notices; it's a small village, not too many eyes are watching him. Perhaps he'll visit a larger city, and pawn the pieces off for something.

His fingers rub over the smooth edges, and he smirks as he walks on, his mind rolling over a mental image of a red flyer. Ah. The mage's market that was cropping up. 

If anything, there he could easily find someone to pawn it off, or perhaps find someone else to help him with his quest of power.