Cladriah floated among the clouds. His body moved through the sky as if he was riding a gentle stream to some unknown location. In truth, there was no sky, no clouds, but calm serenity. Felweaver was not even there, in fact, he was in his undiscovered sanctum His protective wards would keep any wandering person from ever finding it. Only his closest allies knew of the location. All were sworn to secrecy, they took the Blood oaths that prevented them from revealing his secrets.He thought back on how he survived near mortal wounds.
Cladriah was unconscious. His wounds from Silverpine were severe. He lost a large portion of his blood, was hemorrhaging as he lost over forty percent. Yet, he evaded death 's embrace again. He would of been dead before help could of reached him. His health potion
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He began to drain the contents of his soulstone. Feeling a strength grow within him. He looks below as several of his wounds began to close. Taking out the soulshards, he placed them on the floor. Holding out his palms he began to drain the souls within. A small stream of white energy rushed from the soulshards. Their energies going into Cladriah’s as he consumed them. He could see brief memories of his victims. He was used to them, they were only fuel for the fel. He felt majority of his wounds close as the souls gave him the strength to survive.
Cladriah stood as an acolyte came to collect his items. The other two to moved him though a fel portal that they opened. Felweaver had merely delayed the inevitable, if he did not seek the Mystic. A healer who offered his family healing services in return for favors. He was brought to the mystic who immediately began the healing process. Bringing him to a state of lucidity, he was neither awake or asleep. His body would be healed, and his blood replenished. He would be vulnerable, unable to defend himself in this state. Any assassin would be able to kill him if not for his defenses and sworn