Many a wandering wizard was a fake, gaining his living from the credulous. Everyone knew there were real wizards and witches, people who could shrivel the marrow in your bones.In the series of confusing chambers and apartments in the private portion of the rambling old villa appropriated by Alloran, the Chuliks stood guard. Their small round eyes surveyed what went on dispassionately; when they fought and killed they did so with extreme efficiency. Even renowned fighting men like Chuliks, though, looked askance when a sorcerer walked past.The figure swathed all in a dark green cloak with the devices of Kaldi upon its breast had a golden chain girdled around its waist from which swung sword and dagger. The figure’s arms were folded upon its breast, hands thrust deeply into capacious sleeves. The enveloping hood allowed no glimpse of the face and only a fugitive gleam of an eye told that a mortal head existed within the hood.The Chulik sentries, sweating of oily yellow skin, martial and chunky in harness of armor, smothered in weapons, breathed easier when the ominous figure in the green robe had passed by.
