Hogan licked his lips nervously and cast a glance around the glade. His companions had busied themselves with preparations to strike camp and were paying the Acolyte scant attention. The time was now. Hogan slipped between the trees and moved some distance away from the others, heart beating fast. Compose yourself, he thought, this is not the first time. Nor is it the last. Finding a secluded spot he seated himself, and forced his lips to frame the first of the three prayers required by his dark masters.
Hogan, as always, his stomach churned as the powers of darkness responded to his call. Hogan. Our loyal servant calls once again upon us. What do you require, Hogan?
Power, master, Hogan replied, power that I am owed by our pact. Honour our pact and grant me now this power.
Power we will grant you, Hogan. As always, there is a price. How might our loyal servant pay us that grant him power?
I may pay with all that is mine to give, master. Say but the word. Hogan knew the words by rote.
Indeed you shall. We have need Hogan. Need of your BLOOD, need of your STRENGTH, need of your SOUL. How shall you pay for the power that is to be yours?
Hogan's mouth was dry. He knew he could not consider the question too long. I will pay with my blood master. Honour our pact and grant me the power!
~~~~~~~~
A shuddering cry disturbed the glade. The party leaped to defensive postures. There was a moment of silence, then Hogan staggered into view and stood pallid and trembling, leaning heavily on a tree near the edge of the glade.
"Hogan!", exclaimed the Knight, "Are you alright?"
The Acolyte raised his head. His features were haggard and pale and pinched with pain, but his eyes burned brightly from beneath his dark brows as he regarded the others.
"Yes. Yes I am. Let's go"
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